[Market Research 1-4]

Market Research

 

I’d been doing the occasional bit of Market Research for the past few years. It helped supplement my pension and the lady who owned the company was very nice keeping me in mind for several major studies and investigations. Hillary Crown Partnership was the name of her company and the lady herself was a nice middle-aged woman who looked after her clients very well.

 

I’d been involved in some wonderful campaigns and had occasionally seen the result of those campaigns appear on TV advertising a few months or years later on. Of course it wasn’t all just reviewing brands for Supermarkets, or looking at what advert appeals to which section of the public, no, I’d been involved in political focus groups and assorted things I’d had to sign an NDA (None Disclosure Agreement) to even be considered for participation.

Yes it was always very special when I got a call from Hillary and she might hint at the assignment, which was always tempting for me as I had precious little else going on in my life.

My partner Sam died nine years ago and I had no family and very few friends, we’d lived a pretty cellular life that perhaps a hermit would have been proud of. Anyway, after his death and the opportunity to be involved in this Market Research business came along, I jumped at the chance to give me something, even just occasionally, to cling on to.

*

This one I’m about to undertake is another of those ‘secret’ campaigns where a NDA was required before I could even be considered. Hillary had said that it was aimed at the ‘over 65s’ and she thought I’d be an ideal contributor. Now, I’m actually 71 but I flatter myself I can get away with being in my late 50s, but I could just be fooling myself. However, one or two people have commented on the fact I don’t look my age and appear younger so if nothing else it’s boosted my ego. I put it down to never having children but who’s to say? Having said that, I do have an occasional heart flutter, the rheumatoid arthritis makes my knees ache on a wet day, my fingers lack too much manipulation so I now can only write in a spidery scrawl, I’m slightly incontinent (especially at night) and I’m on the verge of Type 2 diabetes, so, nothing to write home about. Oh, except, I still have a full head of hair.

I had to fill in a questionnaire before the meeting but Hillary had insisted it was most important that our answers were as truthful as possible. It was mainly a sort of a walk down memory lane. Our favourite music, movie, holiday and various other memory related questions. They also asked us to make a short video of ‘a typical day’. I sent a very short one of me in my pyjamas getting up, making a pot of tea and telling whoever would be viewing it to rewind and play three more times and then I went back to bed. I thought it was fun (though unfortunately truer than I meant it to be) and hoped they’d get the gag. They did and I was accepted onto the research programme, although for what wasn’t disclosed except it was for the benefit of the elderly. Which I thought was a good planning strategy as that was an ever increasing number of the population.

*

There were twenty of us that congregated in Meeting Room 1 (the largest) at a hotel in town. Surprisingly, the people who greeted us were all quite young and had that well-groomed look that we of a certain age and disposition quite liked. Their attitude was both welcoming and friendly and there was tea, coffee and biscuits available throughout what was supposed to be a one hour ‘introductory event’. For our participation we’d receive a ‘thank you’ of £60 (about the going rate) but as the programme progressed, if you were still involved then more would be on offer. Just what the final amount might be was kept under wraps.

I was amazed at the cross-section of us old age pensioners (OAP) that they’d gathered. Of course I didn’t know anyone but a few were already chatting to each other as if they’d known each other all their lives, whilst I sat quietly on the outskirts just watching the interaction.

Ben, or so it said on his badge, which incidentally we were all wearing to identify ourselves, sidled up and asked if I was okay.

“Fine, fine, just not used to so many old people all in one place.” I shrugged.

“Not one for bingo then,” he joked.

I gave him one of my wry and knowing grimaces and hoped he’d understand.

Now this may sound silly, and maybe it is, but in my head I don’t feel like a seventy-one year old. Yes, even with all the accompanying aches and pains I just don’t see myself the age I am. Since Sam died I’ve let my mind wander and many times I’ve enjoyed being childish, watching kids TV programmes and I even bought myself a LEGO set, which I actually enjoy building up. Another, possibly sad fact is, since Sam died, I sleep with a three foot tall teddy bear which I call Sammy. I also wear protection because, as I’ve implied, I can be slightly incontinent. But enough about my proclivities, as soon as I’m with other oldies, and they’re talking about families and grand-kids, I feel weird because I’m not part of that ‘team’, I’m on the loners team and then that’s what makes me feel old. I can’t quite explain it but suddenly a gloom and inevitability of impending death surrounds me and I... well... it’s just a peculiar feeling.

“Not one for social groups then?” Ben enquired with his practised professional gentle interrogation.

“Not really, hate small talk and general jibber-jabber... sorry.”

“No, no, we know this isn’t for everyone and to be honest, that’s the kind of feedback we’re after.”

I looked at him suspiciously because I know from past research groups I’ve been involved with, that is just what they want – loads and loads of opinions and feedback. If you don’t talk or have an opinion you’re generally no use to them and you don’t get asked back.

“Oh well, I’ll try and be forthcoming in my assessment of whatever it is your company is offering.” I smiled my usual non-committal smile and he just patted my shoulder and disappeared. Meanwhile, I went over, got myself a cup of tea and a couple of custard creams and wondered back to find a seat for the start of the meeting.

*

Ben, Sabrina, Asim, Angela and Cordulla where the five young people who were our leaders as, after we all introduced ourselves, we were broken up into groups of four with one of them keeping the research questions on track.

Ben was in charge of my little group of two males and two females. I didn’t mind but wondered if, as I’m gay and there were quite a few ‘related’ questions, if I’d be inhibited from answering ‘honestly’. The questionnaire was the basis so we started easily enough - what sort of feelings did our favourite music, movie or memory evoke.

We had a wide selection of tastes in music so wasn’t sure the research group would get much from that but the two ladies, Joan and Greta’s favourite movies were RomComs (I can’t remember the titles), the other chap’s was Ben Hur and mine was Home Alone. We all then looked to see the reaction of Ben (not Hur). He had that practised and understanding smile on his face, he wasn’t giving anything away.

Anyway, that part was informal but then we went onto what were our feelings about getting old. The two old ladies said they didn’t mind as they had between them a family of ten children, ten grandchildren and two great grandchildren and it was they that kept them ‘young at heart’.

The other guy, Douglas, who was seventy six, was a bit like me, less forth-coming but was also alone, although he’d been married to Hilda for over forty-four years and had three grown-up kids he rarely saw... them having moved to different parts of the country. He said in a less than candid moment he was just waiting for death as he hated being alone in his big house.

When Ben asked if he’d ever thought about selling up and moving into sheltered housing he looked glum and said no - it was where his memories were. I heard the two ladies sigh at this revelation and, from the comments made; I could see they were determined to get a little group together to help support him.

For me, I said that, as we lived a less than conventional life, Sam and I were used to being alone so, being alone now didn’t worry me. I’m not sure if they knew I was lying but there were nods and sighs from our little quintet.

To be honest there’s many a night when I can let myself get so depressed the last thing I want is to wake up in the morning. Of course I do and, after changing if I’ve got a wet nappy to deal with, try and think of things to occupy myself, which often is little more than watching TV or listening to my collection of albums. Sometimes the music of my youth can get me quite excited at memories of past concerts and festivals I attended with mates or with Sam, but then I just wish he was still with me and I get all maudlin.

Even as the others were talking I slipped back to memories I had of the two of us together. It wasn’t easy being a gay couple at the beginning of our relationship but thankfully it did get easier. Although we were not in the forefront of Gay Rights, we both contributed what we could.

*

We were in our mid-twenties when we met, Sam was older by a couple of years. I’d lived abroad for a few years and it was whilst there I realised how gay I was. There were quite a few ‘experimentations’ – some loving, some painful and some downright kinky (or so I thought in my naiveté) although now they just seem like a sort of ‘rites of passage’.

After working for a couple of years straight from school, and being bored out of my mind, I went to join my brother who was a volunteer teacher in Africa. My idea was to spend a couple of weeks over Christmas with him and then hitch from where he was based down to Cape Town and possibly get a job on ship or yacht to take me to my next (unknown) destination. I wanted adventure and decided if I didn’t do it now, then I’d never do it. So resigned my job, checked my bank account and said farewell to mum and hoped for the best. I don’t suppose it’s something many people do these days, the world has got a lot more dangerous, but back then, it wasn’t so bad.

As I said, I met quite a few people on my journey and fairly early on, in the back of a bar in Bulawayo, my naïve young cock was sucked by a forty-odd year-old farmer called Wilf who invited me back to stay overnight. Despite my doubt (and terror) about the prospect he was so insistent that after a few beers I accepted his offer. That night I lost my virginity... more than once if that’s possible. We were in the middle of nowhere, his house was nothing but a shack, so my screams as I was introduced to the ‘pleasures’ of anal went unheard... except possibly by some local wild animals, which if I remember correctly were also howling loudly as they had sex.

Of course, the first time is rarely forgotten even if you’ve tried to bury it as deep as possible, it will still bounce back to haunt you. However, as I remembered that night yet another occasion came flooding back when I was in a different town and somehow I’d become the object of a local celebrity’s attention. That wasn’t as special as it sounds because the populous was so small, and where everyone knew everyone else (and their business) a new face was bound to attract attention. Now, although he was much older (mid to late fifties) I was flattered and as he was nice, polite and promised nothing untoward would happen (and I’d been hitch-hiking and living in a small pup-tent for a few weeks so was desperate for a hot bath) I took up his offer.

Okay, so, despite having had a couple of ‘experiences’ on my hitch-hiking journey up to that point, I wouldn’t say I was an expert and still unbelievably unsophisticated. After a wonderful hot shower in his luxurious bathroom I returned to find he’d set out on the bed some fresh items of clothing for me to wear. He sat there beaming as he invited me over to join him and I was convinced he wanted my bum because of the eager smile I received as I arrived wearing only a towel. At that time in my life there were no love handles or anything but soft to firm young muscles but even softer skin. As a naïve, five foot eight and ‘cute’ twenty year old, with flowing curly blond hair and ‘lovely green eyes’ (said to me by a girl who was desperate to get into this then eighteen year old’s pants) there was an innocence to me that others found very attractive. However, he patted the bed next to him and invited me to lie out on a soft foam pad that was there. It had cute little characters and was plainly something for a baby or toddler and had some white cotton material draped over it.

The thing is, and I’m sorry if you think I lacked any gumption at all, but I felt I owed him something for offering me a place to stay for a couple of days (which is what he suggested) so thought “Why not”?

Astonishingly, he flipped the towel away and poured oil onto my crotch and gently rubbed it in. Then shook baby powder all over the same area and put me in pre-prepared folds of material, which he pulled up between my legs and fastened into place. Now I was stunned because I had reacted, well my dick had, to his gentle caress but was struck dumb and wasn’t sure what to do as he rubbed my hardening cock through the fabric... though only for a few seconds.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying this.” He smiled as he gently made sure the material fitted around me perfectly.

I wasn’t but my cock didn’t know that and I just didn’t know what to do. I was wearing a thick white terry fabric nappy and he was cooing at me as if I was a little baby. I lay there mortified... that is until he blew a huge raspberry on my powdered tummy and that set me off giggling. After that he had me parading around his home wearing just the nappy, which he said brought back happy memories for him. He never explained what those memories were.

Now, the outcome of this encounter was that I ended up staying with him for a week and the only stipulation was that I wore a nappy the entire time. As it was hot most of the time I wore shorts, which he liked as they were quite short (as was the fashion at the time), so I wasn’t fooling anyone if I’d try to deny anything... the bulge and the obvious fabric occasionally on show below my shorts leg giving the game away. Thankfully, no one made much in the way of nasty comments and I did get quite a number of similar offers from gentlemen of a certain age. I suppose I looked cute, perhaps even stunning and for some unknown reason didn’t actually mind the attention.

His house was fantastic, he treated me with kindness and understanding and when we were alone and not meeting his very influential friends, who all seemed to know the deal; even if I pretended I didn’t, he never once suggested or instigated having sex. Kenneth was his name and although there was no sex there were plenty of hugs. He just loved patting the thick padding and hugging me tightly and say stuff like “Oh Gordy, sweetness, you don’t know just what you’re doing for me.” He just wanted a ‘boy’ he could look after and I quickly found, curling up in his arms on a night, watching TV and sucking juice or milk from a bottle quite a lovely experience.

He liked me to wet my padding though wasn’t keen on any messing, although at one point did say that if I wanted to he wouldn’t mind. The thought of walking around anywhere with a full nappy I thought was quite disgusting so avoided that as much as possible. Except, one morning (the night before we’d had a very hot curry and I hadn’t taken to it) I didn’t get to the toilet in time and between the bedroom and the bathroom, my bowel decided it needed urgent emptying. I was very embarrassed though he took it in his stride and had me cleaned up and in another nappy with what seemed like practised ease.

As a child you don’t necessarily remember the times mummy or daddy or someone changes your messy nappy but at twenty it certainly left an impression.

At the time I kept telling myself how wrong this was but back then I was a ‘people pleaser’ and often put other’s needs before my own. I thought he was a strange and pervy bastard when I recounted this story to anyone else, but in truth, he was as gentle and as loving as anyone I’d ever known. Certainly compared to that painful first night in Bulawayo... I was still feeling sore a good week after I hitch-hiked out of that town.

Anyway, when I returned back to the UK, I nervously called in at the town’s only gay pub and saw Sam in the middle of a group of guys and they were laughing and joking...

*

With that memory I welled-up but tried to hide it from the others in our small focus group. That image of my young and handsome boyfriend, later, many years later, to become my Civil Partner, holding the entire group in hilarious rapture as he told one of his many, many amusing anecdotes to me he was like a beacon. I may have had some experience of reacting to people but I’d never felt such a rush of emotion as I watched him time and time again reduce his audience into fits of laughter.

He saw me sitting alone and came over and dragged me protesting into that group. Up until then it was the best night of my life. After a few weeks of seeing him in the pub I eventually dared ask him out to a party that one of the lads was holding. He agreed and when we arrived at the student’s hall of residence where it was being held, and at the specified time, we were the first ones there. Under a fairly inactive glitter-ball we stole our first nervous kiss and, after another fifteen minutes when still no one else arrived he suggested we go back to his place and have a party of our own.

That night was the next best night ever. He taught me not to rush things, I taught him...

“And what about you Gordon?” I came out of my reflections to see Ben and the other’s looking at me and waiting on my reply. I had no idea what the question had been.

“Sorry, sorry, just, erm... you know...uuummm...”

“That’s alright Gordon we know that we’re dragging up memories and sometimes they are more important than what we’re talking about.” He nodded as if he understood so I nodded back and gave my full attention.

*

Later, when the hour was up and Ben was thanking everyone for their attendance, just as I was about to shuffle out he asked me to stay behind for a moment as there was something he wanted to ask about on my questionnaire. The two ladies had taken to Doug and as they exited looked back at me with warm smiles and said they hoped they’d answered all the questions correctly and added to the research. Ben was full of praise for their contributions.

“Okay, Gordon, I’m sure this isn’t what you might have imagined.” He looked a bit nervous as he spoke, “But we’d like you to go on to the next round of interviews... if you’d like to of course.”

“Well, to be honest, I’m not sure what you gleaned from what you’ve just heard. I mean there were no products discussed, no advertising campaign, no....”

“You’re correct of course,” he interrupted, “but we are planning something which we hope will be for the benefit of some members of the elderly... but we need people like you to help.” He touched my arm as if he was imploring me to continue. “Of course, there is an extra bonus if you do continue AND, if you complete the course, you will be one of the first to benefit from our programme.

“What’s the programme?”

“Ah, that’s just the trouble... I can’t tell you just yet but I can promise you this... it is revolutionary.”

“When would you want me to start?”

“Well, if you’re doing nothing at the moment then we can start immediately.” He seemed excited to offer this option.

It was true I had nothing else on and could quite happily sink another tea and a few biscuits but thought for a few moments longer before I agreed.

“Oh, that’s fantastic Gordon, you won’t regret this.” Ben seemed relieved.

He pointed to another room further down the hall and there were just one other person sat at the table with a menu.”

“What’s all this?” I enquired.

“Well, I thought we might all get to know you and Elsie here a little better over lunch. What do you say?”

“Are there no others joining us?”

“Let’s just say, at the moment, you two are the only ones who made it to take part in the next phase.”

I suppose they wanted us to feel we were special and I saw Elsie straighten her back and wiggled demurely as if to prove that they were correct in their assumption. Yes indeed, Elsie knew she was special.

So eighteen down and it was just us two but we still had no idea what on Earth we were selected for. The only thing they kept insisting is that it was for the benefit of the elderly and that we’d proved, by our open answers so far, to be the type of people they would need for this to progress any further.

So, although it appeared to make little sense I was happy to get a free lunch anytime so happily sat down and perused the proffered menu.

I thought I might struggle with the steak so settled on Salmon – lime and coriander coated crumbs in a light soy sauce - or some such thing.

I thought I was going to enjoy the next stage if they were going to feed us so royally.

The five of them, and the two of us sat around the table and they seemed happy to let us reminisce as much as we liked “After all,” they reminded us, “this was what the programme was all about.”

However, we still had no idea what that was... though lunch was superb.

**

 

tbc

[The Train Journey]

Hi Maly

Glad you enjoyed this brief trip... and yes I do have a couple of other stories in the pipeline.

Stay tuned.

Hugs

[The Train Journey]

The Train Journey

 

The young man boarded the train; it was only to journey to the next town, which would, with occasional station stops, take a little less than half an hour. All the seats were taken apart from one opposite a much older man but, as it was also a window seat, he took it before his chance to sit for the entire trip was taken by another passenger. He smoothly glided into his seat and caught the eye of his fellow passenger who nodded politely with the trace of a smile. They sat for a while until they both heard the whistle blow and the train slowly begin to leave the station.

 

The older man smiled and nodded in acknowledgement to his follow traveller as it stuttered to a start and then slowly began to roll away from the platform. He’d noticed as the lad (for in his aged eyes that’s really what the young man looked like), the slight rustling sound as he sat down and the smooth bulky shape to his bum and crotch. The older man knew immediately that the nice young person opposite was wearing padding.

The young man had brought nothing with him, not even ear-buds, to while away the time so interested himself in the view as the outside passed by. This gave the older man a little more time to scrutinise his much younger tripper.

He noticed that the young man (boy in his book) looked, at a push, to be in his early twenties. His facial hair was bitty and not very consequential and spoiled an otherwise cute, blemish-free face. His hair was an untidy mop but suited him and had small hands with well-manicured fingers. He didn’t look particularly sporty, but that could have been because of the loose green fleece he was wearing, though his pale brown chinos tightened as he sat in place and displayed the sweet bulge at his padded crotch.

A smile danced in the older man’s head as he began to think of starting a conversation with his journeyman (boy). He thought he’d be direct and hope for the best.

“Excuse me young man,” the older man tried to get the lad’s attention. It took a couple of whispered starts before acknowledging he was being spoken to.

His mother hadn’t brought him up to be an ignoramus or blank the older generation but he really just wanted his own thoughts for the journey. He was already out of his comfort zone wearing what he was wearing and although he was enjoying the feeling and his own bravery of being out and about in public, he was still a little apprehensive about the entire trip. This was his first time dressed as he was and it had taken a great deal of soul-searching and several attempts before he’d been brave enough to slip into something he’d wanted to do for ages.

A new store was having its grand opening in the next town over and was offering a ‘special edition’ t-shirt to the first one hundred customers. It wasn’t that he was obsessed with t-shirts but had used the excuse to exit the house so his parents didn’t see what he was wearing, just in case they noticed something different.

His nerves had been jangling from the moment he’d got up and decided that this was going to be the day. The pack of disposables he’d purchased online had arrived over a month ago but had still been too scared to wear them but... today was that day.

Taping himself into the plasticky padding and feeling the warm hug as they’d tightened the material around him had been both wonderful but terrifying in case of discovery. He was lucky, no one saw, and to make sure no one did he wanted to exit the house as quickly as possible, sure that once he was away from his parents surveillance no one else would be aware.

Anyway he was wearing what he was wearing now and was safely on his way to another town where no one knew him. He’d loved the feeling as he’d walked to the station and had enjoyed the sweet rustling sound that accompanied each stride. The full feeling between his legs had comforted him but still, anxiety was in his head and he hoped not to have to speak with anyone. But he was here now and wriggled a little uneasily as the man spoke.

“Yes, hello, but tell me... do you wear a nappy for medical reasons or for fun?” The older man had spoken low but he hadn’t misheard him and blood rushed to his face.

“I, errr, ummm...”

Oh God, Oh God, Oh God - the young man thought but dare not speak. This was a mistake, he knew it would be and...

The older man could see the lad had flushed bright crimson under his ‘innocent’ question. He also noticed him look around, maybe to try and find a way of escape or was he merely making sure no one else had heard the question.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to embarrass you... well... not much, “ the older man whispered his tease, “but I certainly wouldn’t want my little boy to be out on his own, he’d be under constant supervision from mummy or daddy.”

The young man felt trapped. Caught like a deer in headlights he just couldn’t move. The older man had cut straight to the bone and knew... but how?

“Don’t worry, the people around us aren’t listening or I would suspect be that bothered... surprisingly, people aren’t usually bothered but some little boys do get a little bit agitated when their secret is uncovered. I wouldn’t let that happen to my little boy that’s for sure.”

The redness in the boy’s cheeks was beginning to fade although his breathing was a bit tight.

“I just want to say I think it’s wonderful for a boy your age to venture out in your lovely padding.” He saw the boy swallow hard but still didn’t speak. “What is your favoured brand of nappy - fabric or disposable?”

The boy wriggled uneasily.

“I love to see any little one in lovely thick and colourful disposables like REARZ or CUDDLZ... you know the ones with all the little characters charging around; makes them look both cute and juvenile, which of course is exactly how it should be.” The older man seemed really at ease talking of such things.

Despite this not only being a one way and awkward conversation the boy wondered how the man knew he was wearing a thick disposable with little baby bears wearing nappies frolicking around it. However, the man had more to say.

“Do you wear plastic pants over them? I mean, personally I think it’s a very sensible precaution to take as you never know when the little one needs that little bit of extra help with leaks.” The older man chuckled slightly, “Yes slipping daddy’s, or mummy’s, little baby into his fresh morning nappy and pulling a nice bright and shiny slippery pair of vinyl pants over for added security would be a must.”

By now the young man was caught up in what the older man was saying and although full of anxiety he was being held spellbound by what was being said.

“I think a baby should be loved and looked after and that’s a twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week job. Their sweet little body should be kept smooth and hair-free and a nice big paci should always be available for when the little one frets or needs calming. Like now, with you.” He smiled a knowing smile. “Yes, it would be a privilege to keep the little one all clean and tidy, happily engaged in play and... well... let’s take this journey for instance.”

He saw the boy opposite shimmy in his seat a little as if he was relaxing... even if only slightly.

“Now a little boy of mine would have a big colouring book and some crayons to help pass the time as we travel to our destination. Seeing him sucking on his paci as he concentrated on making sure his crayons kept inside the guidelines... that would be a wonderful sight.”

The boy was really quite stunned by the way this unexpected conversation was going and oddly enough he felt his boyhood begin to grow in the folds of his colourful disposable. He tried to inconspicuously wriggle to release it owing to being trapped and sticking down as it tried to rise up. However, there was no doubt about it, the old man seemed to know exactly what he’d dreamed of for some time now.

“Of course,” a wrinkled smile caused his eyes to twinkle, “night time and any little baby should be wrapped in the comforting hug of a lovely thick and fleecy fabric nappy; one that soaks up and holds any and all of the little cuties night time accidents. However, that should all follow a lovely warm and comforting bubble bath where the little one could play with his toys and let mummy or daddy bathe and sponge him all nice and clean.”

The boy opposite felt a throb behind his nappy.

“Once all lovingly rubbed down in a lovely thick towel they’d be smothered in lotion and have their special baby parts all nicely powdered before being dressed for nice long sleepy-byes. Everything would be kept in place by a colourful onesie that fastens between their legs to hold the nappy firmly up and snugly against the sweet little thing.”

About this time, as the train pulled into one of the local urban stations, the boy wished he had a paci. It was true he’d thought about getting one but was scared that his parents might find it and... well... he had the same fear about buying the disposable he was now wearing and that step had taken both a great deal of time and worry. But the man was still talking as folk got off and on the train, which then carried on to its next destination.

“So then... plastic pants?” The man asked whilst nodding in the direction of the boy’s crotch.

The young man sorrowfully shook his head “no” as if he felt guilty by such neglect. He still couldn’t speak but nor could he run away because this conversation had stirred up so many thoughts in his head... and crotch. He needed to relieve the pressure, and pain, his growing but scrunched-up penis was causing. He knew he was leaking and as such was grateful to his decision to wear padding but it was now getting awkward and uncomfortable in that area.

“You seem a little uncomfortable...” it was as if the old man could read his mind, “please don’t be afraid of getting things rearranged... no boy should be uncomfortable when wearing his favourite nappy.”

The boy looked around to see if there was anyone staring in their direction, thankfully, the coast was clear and was able to do a quick manipulation. What a relief - but now the curvy front bulge under his brown chinos was even more pronounced by the released stiff penis.

“That’s what a lovely cosy nappy will do to a boy if he’s not under constant supervision.” He leant in closer to confide in the lad. “Sometimes, a boy needs to be protected from himself and a nice thick and tightly wrapped nappy, encased in thick rubber pants and wearing a sweet pair of restrictive mittens will keep him from being too grown up when all that self-touching is so unnecessary.”

With the release of his bunched up penis he hadn’t realised his bladder was also calling for relief and he shot a stream of warm pee straight into the folds of his disposable. He tried to keep the look from his face but was unable to stop the flow, which of course the man opposite noticed.

“Now, that should be under a daddy or mummy’s control. A little baby needs their protection, love and control to make sure they stay the sweet little thing they want to be. Maybe, what some boys and girls need is restricted access and firm control... maybe a bottom needs a spanking first to achieve this.” The older man looked him straight in the eye as if challenging the boy whose features unfortunately gave the game away.

He saw the boy physically shake and knew that he’d just spurted a milky load into the front of his newly soaked nappy.

The older man sat back and let the boy recuperate as the train began to slow down on its approach to yet another small urban station.

“Well thank you young man for a most enjoyable chat. You’ve made this regular but boring journey special.” He got up and smiled his thanks then departed the scene. His seat was quickly taken by someone else, a lady in her fifties.

Meanwhile, the boy still had another stop to go before he completed his journey, although in many ways, he already had.

####

[Love being loved 1-4]

Sammy was going to add more but Andrew just wants him to be his little baby boy who enjoys picture books, cartoons and his nappies.

So sadly... that's all folks (as his favourite cartoon says).

 

[It's My Job 1-5 (end)]

Sorry for taking so long to reply but a huge THANKS for finding one of my old stories and taking the time to comment... it is greatly appreciated.

So you get another big THANKS😉

[Love being loved 1-4]

22 hours ago, CDfm said:

I loved the sweet story.  I am a bit curious though.  What motivates Andrew?  I get they he loves babies and taking care of them but what is it that makes him love a permanent baby?  I love children and loved raising my kids.  I did all that was necessary to care for them.  I bathed them, changed them, played with them. I fed them and loved them.  As they were growing,  I participated in all of their activities.  I coached teams they were on.  I was a scout leader for them.  I attended all of the concerts and games and plays they were in. The ultimate objective was to raise them to be good people who had a better life than I had.  I wanted them happy and healthy and raising their own families. So I am not sure what Andrew wanted to get out of the relationship. Changing diapers was something that needed to be done it wasn’t necessarily something I enjoyed.  It definitely wasn’t anything sexual or gratifying in anything other than having a clean sweet smelling child. My intention here isn’t to criticize but rather to gain an understanding of what would drive a person like Andrew to do what he does. 

Hiya

Good question, but I don't think Andrew knows himself. He knows that this desire is 'weird' and a strange 'fetish' but it's what drives him to keep Sammy that way.

He's always loved seeing a baby, a child, youths and young men in nappies and associates wearing such an item with childishness behaviour... which he's keen for them to pursue.

Of course, as with previous relationships, eventually Sammy might want to change the status quo but form the moment... being the centre of Andrew's life, wearing nappies and acting like a baby suits him to keep things as they are.

For most of his life Sammy has been deprived of love and now he'll do whatever it takes to keep the love he has... Meanwhile, Andrew loves his baby boy... and needs nothing else.

15 hours ago, maly said:

This is a lovely feel good story makes me feel all mushy.

Thanks so much Les Lea.

Maly.

Glad it's had that effect Maly... lovely to have such a response.

Thanks😊

[Love being loved 1-4]

Part 4

 

Andrew couldn’t explain it. He’d thought about having kids of his own but didn’t want that kind of family life. He’d noticed that as William got older, the fact he was still wearing a nappy, and seemed to enjoy all the childish items and love his brother bestowed on him, the cuter he looked.

An older boy wearing protection was certainly what he thought to be an ideal situation. A youth who still wanted to cling to his childhood and enjoy the benefits of someone older and loving who would happily take great care of them. It was a search he wasn’t sure would produce results.

He was in no doubt that this was a weird desire, fetish even, but it was one that spurred him on to find that special someone. Surprisingly, even with these considerations, or maybe because of them, his newly acquired business continued to be a success. After all, there wasn’t too much ‘hands on’ effort needed on his part and what there was could be done online or via his legal office. He had time enough for his main project.

As it was, there had been a couple of trials, one of them lasting almost a year but the commitment just wasn’t there; that was until Baby Sam entered his life. He’d never thought an advert online might just reveal the very person he was searching for and, after that first meeting at the town’s Burger King, couldn’t quite believe that sweet natured (though totally chaotic) boy would be the one.

He hadn’t liked the fact Sam’s own family abused him, even if it wasn’t physical, it was still abuse. No child should suffer that and was determined, if Sam came to join him, he’d never be abused physically, mentally or sexually. He would be treated as a baby and looked after with the love and devotion that should go without saying in the care for a child.

After all, the main thing that made Andrew’s life special was seeing any boy or young man wearing a nappy. It had been a pleasure since his baby brother was on the scene and even after all these years, a brief sighting of such an event could still brighten up his day. His ambition was to have a nappy-wearing boy of his own and Sam not only looked the part but took to it with equal enthusiasm.

#

For the last two years I’ve been Daddy’s baby boy. He said it was important that we start at the beginning and that meant right back to childhood. Although I was sceptical about the entire thing I was desperate to change my life. I’d gotten myself into all manner of stupid situations and the family had taken against me with a united front. I was a HUGE disappointment to them all and apparently was badly letting each one of them down. There’d already been talk about me finding a place of my own (‘and the quicker the better’ dad snarled at me) so when I met Andrew I was already frantic about my future.

I’d met him online. I was trolling some sites and came across one about ABDL and Regression. I remember thinking “I wish I could do that. Just go back and start again... with a new family.” The idea appealed though I had no idea how it would work. On impulse I got in touch with Andrew who’d posted some photos of what he thought was an ideal situation - young guys wearing nappies, sucking on dummies, playing with stuffed toys and looking extremely happy and content. I thought I wanted that, a chance to forget and a chance to have no worries. To be honest, I was so naïve, it didn’t occur to me that those images were what he really wanted... I thought they were for ‘illustrative’ purposes.

Now I know it seems an act of complete desperation, and I cannot deny that perhaps at first it was, but there was something about Andrew and what he was offering that hit home. He wasn’t demanding he didn’t talk down to me; he regarded me as an equal who, as he so confidently told me, just wanted to get into a nappy and look after.

Not once, as we spoke, did I feel I’d be a victim, or a joke was being played, everything about him said he was genuine and honest. He told me what he wanted and what to expect and in return he offered something I’d never received before – LOVE.

#

Within the space of two days I’d told mum and dad I was moving out. I didn’t tell them about anything I was going to do or explain my sudden departure. I just left them thinking I’d found work elsewhere so I needed to move to a different city. They seemed relieved (‘good riddance’ was the overpowering atmosphere) and didn’t ask any questions so I simply packed a case, emptied my almost negligible bank account and moved in with Andrew... and it was amazing what he’d organised by the time I arrived with case in hand.

“Welcome Baby Sammy to your new home,” he beamed such a solid and enthusiastic welcome and invited me in. “Let’s get you sorted.”

He told me to leave my case at the door as from that moment on everything I’d be wearing would be decided by him. He ran a bath, and although I told him I’d had one before I arrived, he wanted me to take another and, “no more arguments”. There was no threat to what he said, just a gentle reminder that from that moment on I would be treated as a baby and therefore all decision would be made by Daddy. He asked me once again if I was sure I wanted that to happen. To be honest, I was scared and thrilled at the prospect but couldn’t wait to get started, even though I had no idea what I was really letting myself in for – it was a desperate adventure?

That bath was the clinching moment when I just committed to letting Andrew become Daddy. Laying in the warmth he gently bathed me, though it was extremely personal and intimate, I wondered if he intended having sex. Of course, I was a teenager with those desires and my body reacted to such gentle ministrations.

Sex! Would he demand it and would I want to give it to him?

I was a virgin. I’d masturbated regularly, and got caught up in many handheld fantasies but the actual fucking or being fucked had not taken place. I realised we’d be two males together, so if sex was on the cards I assumed that I’d be the one getting fucked, which worried me more than a little... simply because, though I knew about people being gay, it had never entered my head that I might be. However, now that I think about it, how stupid I must have been not to talk about this more before I committed myself to living with Andrew. Also, even if I wasn’t aware of them why would I agree to become another man’s baby boy if I didn’t already have such feelings?  Maybe I was in denial about a lot of things?

Because I moaned as he washed my dick and he saw it was growing and obviously I desired a ‘happy ending’ he asked if I wanted that to happen.

I replied I didn’t mind if that’s what he wanted but he just said, whilst dripping water over my shampooed head, that I was a baby so any thoughts of sex would remain just that, thoughts. He would happily just watch me being a happy little boy in a bulky nappy... and that’s all he wanted.

When he helped me out of the tub and into a lovely thick towel he rubbed me dry and I was still hard.

“Sweetheart,” he said slowly rubbing me dry, “this is our first time together and I don’t want to do anything that either of us later regrets so, for the time being at least, I think I’ll keep Little Sammy here,” and gently flicked my hardened penis to one side, “hidden behind a few nice layers of padding... okay?”

I nodded and that’s just what he did.

“But just so you know, what you do in your nappy is okay by me. When ready I’ll change you as necessary but you should have no fear about being a little boy and using your nappy.” He looked down on me and smiled. “Your happiness is now my prime concern and as long as it’s not something that will hurt you... I’m happy for you to be happy... no judgement in that area okay?”

I got the implication.

#

Daddy cuddles me loads and loves stroking my bulging nappy and slippery plastic pants. He adores dressing me up in childish garb and never stops praising me for finishing a painting or crayoning a nice picture. I have toys that I never had as a kid and love now being able to play with them without worrying about mum or dad or any of my family shouting at me to clear stuff away or stop making a noise. Daddy encouraged me to be as joyful, energetic and happy as I want to be... this was such a release and yet another thing I hadn’t know I wanted... maybe needed?

Now you may think that as a teenager I’d resent being returned to a toddler in all but size. After all, I was subject to all the desires any other teenager goes through. I was way past puberty and although my body wasn’t hard and firm like many of my peers, I couldn’t be mistaken for a child - except, when you’re treated as a child, which came with a huge dollop of love, it was a relief to slip into a life where anxiety and fear had been replaced by comfort and tenderness.

It was the same at meal times. Although my diet was controlled, he was full of praise for finishing each meal and very attentive to any drips that landed on my bib. Daddy made me take most of my drink from a bottle, although sometimes, depending on what we were eating, I could use a sippy cup. Also, pinned to my top was a binkie that he said I should get used to as I’d be sucking on it for most of the time when we were together.

I was amazed at how quickly I took to wearing nappies and using them. I said I didn’t like to mess them but I didn’t mind wetting them. So, he agreed for me to use the potty once out of my soaked night time nappy (I always had a large warm milk before bedtime so that made me pee in the night) and before he got me ready for the day ahead. Sometimes I didn’t make it and messed but he just got on with being the perfect Daddy and cleaned me up as soon as possible. After that I didn’t mind messing in my nappy because Daddy said that’s what it’s there for. Anyhow, I just loved the attention and enjoyed even more wearing anything Daddy put me in. I felt happy, safe and loved... and I loved being Daddy’s little baby boy and the focus of all his attention. A mucky nappy didn’t worry him so why on Earth should it worry me, so now, it doesn’t.

#

“OK Sweetie,” Daddy had put me in a lovely thick fleecy nappy that kept my legs bowed there was so much extra padding in it. “For the moment I want my Baby Sammy to feel just how good it can be to wear a nappy that simply engulfs him. I want my special boy to experience what he’ll miss if he wears Big Boy underwear instead of what little boys should always feel safe wearing.”

He was smiling and encouraging all the way through the operation, gently making sure everything fitted well and that I returned to my comfortable little world. I had toys and stuffed animals to play with, Daddy was always happy to play games and came up with some super-duper ones. In fact, I had loads of things to keep me occupied but nothing adult, even TV was restricted.

Wrapped up as I was I couldn’t walk and think that was the idea as he wanted me to shuffle around on my hands and knees. Moving that way means the fabric rubs in a different manner to when you’re standing so it became another way of appreciating just how nice wearing a nappy can be.

#

In an earlier relationship Andrew had been asked about wearing nappies and whether he’d ever worn them.

“Yes,” he answered truthfully, “when my brother used to come round to my bedsit I’d occasionally wrap myself in a pair as an incentive for him not to feel strange about wearing them. I quite enjoyed the fullness of having my privates swathed snuggly but I much preferred to be the one looking after my sweet brother in his. After a while it didn’t seem important to pretend any more, and as William was happy to be my little baby, I stopped.”

Although no one knew about their relationship being anything other than brotherly Andrew didn’t make William wear outside of the bedsit. It was only later when he had his first relationship, his first baby partner who wasn’t his brother that he wanted to see his new cutie out and about looking snug, if a little shy, wearing in public.

Andrew had been thrilled when that first person had called him “Daddy” it was what he wanted but it also meant he had responsibilities. He wanted his sweet baby to look his best and have the best and never stopped buying as many childish things as he could that would keep his padded little baby happy. That was before he came into his inheritance so money then was at a premium but that didn’t stop him lavishing what he had on his sweet little boy.

Now he had no such money worries, Baby Sammy was short of nothing and Daddy loved making sure he had all the latest styles and the most comfortable, thick nappies that money could buy. He loved seeing his little one crawl or happily totter around all nicely bound and looking so at ease.

Unfortunately, Andrew no longer sees his family. Having moved away, and not wishing to flaunt his desires in his mother’s face, Baby Sammy never got to meet her or his Uncle William, which if he was being honest, Andrew regretted. Still, William had his own inheritance when he recently reached the age of twenty-five but is still deciding what to do with it. However, he has been in touch with Andrew to suggest that perhaps they should go into partnership, both parties are thinking of just what that would be... and whether they should. William seemed quite eager and that got Andrew wondering if he still had feelings for the way things used to be when a schoolboy?

#

At home I mainly wore a nappy, or a nappy with plastic pants and little else down below. I had a huge array of colourful and juvenile onesies Daddy occasionally let me chose one that he would happily fasten between my legs to help hold up the fabric cushion I was becoming dependent on. When we went out I wore shorts, the length of which depended on where we were going. They often barely covered the copious protection so there was never an occasion to hide what I was wearing or if they did, the short’s material was so loose it just flopped around the mass. Daddy always emphasised I should be proud of my padding as it not only offered protection but gave an opportunity to do what babies had always done – pee and poo without worry.

Daddy loved taking me to kiddie-themed restaurants and although we occasionally got a few stares, Daddy was always so encouraging that after a while none of that bothered me.

Daddy was insistent that letting go of any grown up thoughts and actions would be beneficial to our relationship. He knew it would take time, and that there would be things I just wouldn’t want to do but, he said in the most loving of ways, I must do what Daddy says.

He was correct. In my head was speech but he only wanted me to talk like a toddler. To begin with this was more difficult than I thought. I mean I had the thoughts of a growing teenager, and, although I might not have been the sharpest knife in the drawer, I wasn’t completely dumb.

My life was a cross between being a defenceless little baby or an excitable toddler and I loved both equally.

He quickly taught me to use sucking on my binkie to stop from talking all the time. We only watched children’s shows and cartoons together. He only spoke to me like he’d chat to a toddler and eventually I got used to responding in a similar way. He loved it when I got into the infantile part, my inhibitions down and my mental capacity equally low. When we’d go out together I had to hold his hand until I was allowed to go off to play.

#

Strange looks from parents of children meant I couldn’t play with other toddlers so spent an awful lot of time playing on my own. Eventually he introduced me to a couple of his friends who also had boys like me in tow. I was shocked that there were others, teenaged nappy wearers nearby. It had never occurred to me that there would be a community of little boys and girls, all wearing padding and all suitably regressed in one way or another. It was bizarre but I really loved playing with ‘kids’ like me. However, I noticed that some were enjoying their role more than others. So, even though Daddy might have looked like he was distracted talking to someone else, I knew his eyes were on me the entire time making sure I came to no harm and not influenced by anyone else.

Also when we were out in public Daddy never made me wear just toddler clothes all the time but I came to appreciate them more and more as I got less anxious about what others thought. Thankfully, he did insist on being well protected so padding and plastic pants were always under my shorts. He never insisted I use the binkie but it was always in easy reach. He maintained that sucking on my binkie would reduce any feelings of stress so should have it with me at all times. He was correct; I came to rely on my binkie more than I thought possible and it did all the things Daddy promised.

He wanted me to point, babble or do a little ‘potty dance’ for the things I needed and between us we’d work out just what it was. That way we’d develop reliance on each other. He made it sound like I’d be contributing but in fact my contribution was to forget as much as possible, fill my nappy, let Daddy change me, be as cute and as childish as possible and in exchange I would be cherished above all else.

Like the first time we went to a toy store. I mean, I know at my real age I shouldn’t have been as excited as I was. Yet, despite wearing such an immature outfit and a very obvious nappy in public, I loved getting to play with and choose some pieces for myself. We both sat in the middle of an aisle, me crinkling and my plastic pants visible down my shorts leg, whilst playing with loads of different items like little kids. It was terrific.

Now there’s never a moment when, once I’d let go of all things ‘adult’, I didn’t think Daddy was, and is, there for me. He loves seeing me in my childish clothes and wearing a thick nappy. He adores changing and patting the padding whilst telling me what a ‘good boy’ I am. He never stops hugging and praising me, reading stories or making sure I have a bottle and binkie always within reach.

#

After the brief but disastrous attempt at being a ‘big boy’ after the holiday I realise I have everything I want as things are. I never thought that wearing a nappy would be so good and comforting or that I would actually still desire, after all this time, the childishness of such things as toys and stuffed animals.

Daddy seems as happy as I am with the way things are and I don’t want anything to change (except my messy nappies ha-ha).

I have my own room with a bed but it has rails that get pulled up if Daddy thinks I’ve been restless or a little grumpy for some reason (I do occasionally get into a mood usually out of frustration). It looks like a kid’s nursery and has plenty of toys and stuffed animals around to keep me company. Daddy only lets me sleep with him if he thinks I need looking after because of a nightmare or some other thing that might have upset me in some way. I love it when we sleep together and often I’ll creep into his room and climb in just to be hugged by my big, strong Daddy. He never refuses to let me snuggle and although always well-padded I love it when Daddy runs his hands gently over my plastic pants and nappy and tells me what a good boy I’ve been for filling them.

You may wonder about the future because after two years things you might think would have changed. Well, Daddy has simply said that whilst I wear my nappies and enjoy being looked after I’m still a baby and have no need to worry about the future because he’ll be there to be Daddy.

I play with toy trains and cars and LEGO and have castles and dragons and dinosaurs and farms and... everything.

It is a life I never thought I’d want but realise it’s a life I needed and appreciate.

Daddy has bought a new range of nappies and plastic pants which he can’t wait for me to try. He says nothing is too good for his sweet little cherub - the person he loves above all else.

I love being loved... wouldn’t you?

# # # # # #

[Love being loved 1-4]

My pleasure Maly... only one more chapter to go.

Hope you like it🙂

[Love being loved 1-4]

Part 3

Our two weeks abroad had been to celebrate our two years together and had been wonderful. Daddy had booked an apartment that was in such a wonderful location with views out across the Atlantic Ocean and long sandy beaches. We spent nearly all day out and about, sometimes laying out enjoying the sun, whilst I played in the sand or at the sea’s edge (as a kid trips away with mum and dad were few and far between so this was quite the most wonderful of experiences). Some days we’d drive off into the countryside or into the mountains to explore the area, eating in local restaurants or visiting places of interest. Unless we were on the beach, where Daddy let me just wear my pale green nylon Speedos - being near or in the sea, drips didn’t register - the rest of the time I wore a disposables and plastic pants under my shorts just so I felt safe. It also meant Daddy was happy to know his baby was well protected from any worries about possible accidental trickles.

Usually, Daddy is fairly strict about what I see and do and always keeps an eye on what I wear. Although I’m twenty, 5’6” and 110 pounds, he’s never allowed me to smoke, alcohol is frowned upon, drugs are a definite no-no and late nights, just for the sake of having a late night, is regarded as a silly thing to do when a baby should be getting a full night’s rest. All this may sound quite restrictive but Daddy said my health was of the utmost importance and didn’t think it clever to give me a life time habit, which could so easily be avoided.

On holiday I experienced new food and drink, some of which didn’t quite agree with me so I was glad he insisted on my wearing a thick nappy most of the time. It had caught a few accidental ‘spills’ which he was quick to change so I never had to wander around too long in a messy nappy.

Since the first time I met him Daddy has always cared. As I’ve said, at the very beginning he asked me if I wanted a new start and if I’d be willing to let him make all decision about my life. As I was in a pretty awful place at the time, what with family problems and financial worries, I simply thought things couldn’t get any worse. Every decision I’d made up to that point had not turned out that great and I was, mentally at least, seriously floating in dangerous waters. Daddy said I could have a fresh start but he needed me to want it more than anything else.

#

At that original meeting in Burger King I was doubtful of even approaching him. He looked so hunky and wonderful and thought he was too good to be true and I’d be hurt. Actually, he looked so manly I was more than a little scared. However, he noticed this shy, waif-like lad looking nervously in his direction and approached me. I admitted to who I was and his smile immediately put me at my ease (even though my heart rate was through the roof).

We sat talking and it was great to be able to tell him things that I’d had bottled up for ages. There were no family members I could talk to as they all hated me. At eighteen I had few friends and certainly none I’d trust with such intimate information about my worries. Those uncertainties were simple enough, after my family life, I just wanted to be loved. However, Andrew let me talk and encouraged me to get things off my chest. It was so liberating.

We chatted for over two hours and to be honest I didn’t want it to end, it was like I’d found my first ever real proper friend. He wrote his phone number on my hand and said that he had to go but, if I still wanted what I said I wanted in a week’s time, to give him a call. I didn’t know if he was giving me a gentle brush off or if he meant it but I thought I’d find out in a week’s time. I committed that phone number to memory.

Over the next seven days the only thing my mind could cope with was calling that number, telling Andrew “Yes”, I still wanted what he was offering and hoped he did too? So, when I nervously called the number and his voice seemed genuinely glad to hear mine, I was so eager. However, he didn’t immediately jump to any conclusion but made me say that I was ready.

“I love that you want things to change for you Sammy” Even him calling me Sammy was wonderful because instead of the usual annoyance used by my family, there was a touch of nice, familiarity that was very appealing. “But I need you to be sure and for you to want it so... please say in your own words what you want.”

I knew he was giving me the opportunity to think again.

During that initial discussion and before he said he had to go, he implied that he would want me to wear nappies all of the time. It was the one thing he was definite about as he didn’t want me to be under any illusion about what he expected from me. At the time I thought it was a bit weird but he did say he wanted me to ‘start again’ so...

“Andrew, please let me be your loving son... I’m sure we will be good together and... I promise I'll wear anything you want me to.” I smiled and could discern the relief on his voice.

“OK, I hoped you’d call and I’ve made some plans. Do you want to come and live with me?” He hummed a little bit and for the first time their seemed to be a little doubt to his voice. “I’m not pressuring you, I’m sure we can do this from a distance to begin with if you prefer...”

“No, no, no. Please, I’d love to be... you know... your baby boy.” There was both anxiety and excitement in my voice.

“OK then, let’s make that happen but from now on... you call me Daddy, OK?”

“Yes Daddy.”

“Good boy... Good Baby Boy.”

#

As I finished the call with “Yes Daddy” I once again mentally reviewed that initial meeting. It had been the first time I’d ever felt I had something in common, some kind of connection, with another person. The fact he was big (a good nine inches taller than me), strong and looked like he could look after himself really appealed. I’m not a brave boy. Foolish, some might say owing to the number of unnecessary scrapes I used to get myself in when growing up. Because I was scrawny and not tall for my age I’d get picked on quite a bit. I’d like to say it was just at school but my high achieving family – mum, dad, older brother and sister, all brilliant in their own ways, all seemed to get a kick out of putting me down.

I’m not like them as my achievements are more ‘low’ than ‘high’ and, what with the way I looked and acted they regarded me as an unnecessary negative to their positive family image. The ‘runt’ is how I’d often been described by my own family, and, well, it hurt. It's not like they involved me in any of their projects or discussions, I’d be left out or worse still, told to go to my room and stay there out of the way. So, when Daddy came along and offered me not only a way out but a chance to reinvent – yes, that’s what he called it – a reinvention of myself - I thought I should at least give it a go.

When he told me what he planned I was unsure. A slight regression and ‘back to basics’ but, and he stressed this point, nothing I wouldn’t grow to love and the reason for that would be because I would be loved.

His constantly encouraging attitude was something I’d not encountered before. He made me feel like I was as much in charge of my future as anyone else. He didn’t see problems because there would never be conflict between us and all I had to do was say ‘Yes’.

#

That first week wearing a nappy, and told to use it, was a bit awkward but, as he said, he loved seeing me dressed that way, I got used to the thick padding and began to love the fact that this gorgeous, hunk of a man wanted to take care of me.

From the start there was loads of gentle pats to my padded bum, hugs in my fleecy tops and tickles when I needed them. It wasn’t that I was miserable, far from it, I was still feeling my way but Daddy was true to his word... I’d never felt more loved.

On the first occasion, as I lay naked and vulnerable in front of him, he couldn’t have been more caring or considerate. He explained what he was going to do and why. He wanted me to understand and experience what being taken care of felt like and, as this was the most fundamental early point of trust, wanted me to know that he would never abuse that trust. Naked as I was, I was also respected as a baby and a baby needs loads and loads of love and care. Awkward as it could have been, and I certainly wasn’t too sure, his calming and encouraging words drifted into my head and I felt at ease.

He was correct, I did love being his baby boy and wanted to do anything to please him and repay his thoughtful, loving ways as much as possible. I wasn’t particularly hairy but he said he wanted me to be as smooth as a baby and set about the task.

I was quite nervous because I didn’t know what to expect but he tenderly slathered my entire body (except my head) with some cream. An act I’d never experienced anything like before, and then, after a few minutes gently wiped all the stuff off. My few hairs went with the cream and my body felt silky smooth. It was nice to know I was pleasing him and that by doing so he treated me with such love and consideration, something my family never showed me. As he folded that first nappy and pinned me in I knew he was the person I could trust and depend upon.

Although I had relatively long hair he wanted his boy to look boyish so took me to the barber who seemed to know him very well, and I got my first proper haircut. He liked for me to keep it short and on that first occasion showed me exactly how he thought a baby boy (a cute baby boy is what he called me), should look like. The clippers made short work of my mop of blondish hair and left me with cut that felt more like velvet.

“All the better to snuffle my baby’s sweet head,” was how daddy described it and that comment sent shivers of expectation down through my body and into my toes.

Once he saw how much I loved what he was doing he made sure that was the way it would be and acting the child has since come so easy and I’m grateful for the opportunity Daddy offered two years ago.

In fact, I very quickly grew to appreciate wearing a nappy. I wouldn’t have thought that I would but it offered such cosy comfort and a gentle hug all the time, I could see why Daddy loved me to wear one. It was simply an extension of his love.

#tbc#

[Love being loved 1-4]

Hi Maly

Thanks for your encouragement though not sure if this type of story goes down well with readers?

However, I perceiver and hope for the best... it isn't a long story.

Hugs to each and all (sorry but I can't see a emoji for hugs)

Les

[Love being loved 1-4]

Part 2

Andrew Sullivan always enjoyed the sight of a young guy wearing a nappy. It had become an obsession since he was a teenager and had only grown as he’d gotten older. It started when his middle-aged mother quite unexpectedly fell pregnant and produced a baby brother for fourteen year-old Andrew. What was also totally unexpected was the way this teenager took to his new baby brother William and how much, as the boy grew up, he loved being with him. He loved his toddler clothes and when he eventually got to be potty trained, it was with some regret that Andrew saw that his use and need for nappies diminished.

Seeing his little brother potter about the house wearing only his protection or under his clothes (but with that tell-tale bulge), gave Andrew immense pleasure. So, he made sure that his little brother would wear a nappy for as long as possible.

He cajoled William, in the nicest possible way, to enjoy being a boy in a nappy for as long as he could get away with it. His mother was worried that her youngest was taking too long to potty train but Andrew made it so his brother was confined to them well into his early school days.

Eventually, his mother discovered what her eldest had been doing – wetting the boy’s protection and encouraging him to stay in his childish padding. As Andrew was nearing being twenty it didn’t go down well and she more or less kicked him out of the family home and said she’d ever forgive him.

However, Andrew was very resourceful and found work and a little bedsit of his own but what mother didn’t know was that William used to visit Andrew on the sly and the two continued with their need for nappies; one to wear them, the other to take loving care of the wearer.

This, some might say, odd continued co-dependency was something their mother never knew about, both were getting a great deal of enjoyment from their situation and William loved the care and attention his doting older brother gave him.

It was when William was eleven and moved up to senior school that he stopped wanting to wear a nappy. Actually, he just thought that now he was with other, older boys, his liking for such security wouldn’t go down well with his mates should they find out so, much to Andrew’s sadness, he stopped his regular visits.

So Andrew had to find another outlet for his desire to love and comfort a boy in nappies.

At the same fortuitous time, on his twenty-fifth birthday, he unexpectedly found that he became the recipient of his grandfather’s benevolence. As the solicitor explained, he was now the owner of several properties (which were bringing in a considerable income) and received a rather ‘independence giving’ inheritance of just over one million pounds.

#

Despite my attempt at being a big boy I woke up in Daddy’s bed and to a sodden nappy. I think, over all, I’d only gone three nights without waking up wet and that was for the last couple of nights whilst we were away on vacation and again the night before last.

We’d had a wonderful two weeks in an apartment that overlooked the sea but wasn’t itself overlooked. Daddy started me off with, as usual, thick disposables, just for travelling but less thick ones once we’d arrived. Throughout our stay I was getting more and more confident and, on the last couple of days I woke up to a dry nappy and begged Daddy to let me wear big boy pants like him from then on.

Daddy very rarely denied me anything unless he thought it was dangerous for a baby to undertake, or, would result in me being upset in the end.  However, he must have known it was important to me so said if I thought I was ready (to try and be a big boy), why not.

As it was on our vacation I wore my usual onesie and nappy to bed but with having those dry nights Daddy let me experiment wearing his grown up boxers... a pair of the boxer shorts he slept in. They were large but because they were Daddy’s I loved wearing them. They made me feel close to him when he wasn’t in bed with me.

To me Daddy was all man all the time but when wearing his bed time boxers he seemed to radiate something more. I suppose it was because I’d never really had a positive male model. My family, well, I’d prefer not to go into that but they weren’t nice but Daddy, yes, well he wanted nothing more than to let me be his sweet little boy but knew from experience that sometimes a boy needed to grow up.

I could see he had doubts but didn’t want to spoil my exploration to new (or renewed) areas of experience. So for the last two nights of the holiday he let me wear his boxers without protection at night. Well, I did wear pull-ups under them like I wore during the day, but not the thick fabric nappies I usually slept in. All went well and I woke up to dry pull-ups. So, when we arrived home he let me continue.

I was excited about wearing Daddy’s boxers but he said as I’m still only a little boy but once we were sure he’d buy me whatever style of jammies I wanted, instead of the onesies and footed sleepers I usually wore to bed. I’d seen some blue and white striped ones that I thought looked nice and had mentioned them to Daddy before we went on holiday.

That first night back I woke up dry but last night, things just didn’t seem right and my head was as jumbled as the bed, whilst it squirmed with thoughts and problems I didn’t know I had. After two years of being a little boy with no responsibilities it must have dawned on me that by growing up would mean I now did... being grown up was no fun.

I had felt grown up. Wearing Daddy’s boxers and going to bed well past my usual bedtime had that effect. I love Daddy but hoped, now I wasn’t waking up soaked, I could be more like him. He had said that if I wanted to try he didn’t want to stop me... Daddy is like that... very understanding.

However, Daddy didn’t say that he expected me to be responsible; I just assumed that went with being a big boy. However, last night, once he’d put me back in a nappy and soothed my worries I was happy to return to things as they were, expecting that thick padding would return to being worn 24/7.

Once I realised I didn’t have to be a big boy for him, and that things could easily resume as they were, I was glad to cuddle and thank him for being my wonderful Daddy. We snuggled and he patted my padding and told me I would always be his little baby and mustn’t worry about anything else because that was all that mattered.

I hadn’t known that daddy had bought those striped pyjamas anyway and let me wear them over my thick fleecy nappy. They were made of very soft cotton and had elasticated cuffs and waistband, which dipped at the front under my nappy bulge. Daddy said I looked so cute he wished he’d bought me PJs earlier.

He stroked my head and whispered just how ‘perfect’ he thought I was. It was hard not to think he was the most wonderful man in the world.

#tbc#

[Love being loved 1-4]

Love being loved

 

I’d been tossing and turning since I’d come to bed. I don’t know why I couldn’t relax or get comfortable maybe because the bedding just seemed so heavy and bulky. No matter which way I turned, or pushed my bedding off, it just didn’t seem right.

 

I’d come to bed just after 11pm, put on my tartan flannel boxer shorts, even tuned my bedside gizmo to play some tranquil sounds and slipped quickly into a peaceful sleep. However, I woke up with a start just after midnight. I had no idea what caused it but was wide awake, which was strange as I’d been yawning all day and desperate for a good night’s sleep.

Once my brain starts to connect onto a thought I find it very difficult to shake off. The problem was I was thinking ‘I’m tired so why can’t I get to sleep?’ and that conundrum kept me awake.

The gizmo was still pumping out ethereal music but the fidgeting and squirming continued for over an hour as my brain just wouldn’t let go of some inconsequential thought.

Lettuce! Yes, lettuce. I don’t even like the stuff but yet this green salad was keeping me awake with thoughts of how much water it contained. WHAT THE HELL?

Eventually, I slipped into a troubled sleep but again, it didn’t feel like sleep. It was as if I was drowsing when I should have been awake and what was worse I started to burp and fart every time I moved position.

Surely thinking about lettuce can’t produce symptoms can it?

My stomach felt bloated like it was holding in a giant uncomfortable balloon and was letting little gasps of air out trying to relieve the situation.

Fart, burp – burp, fartttt... the farts got longer but still my stomach remained full of air however, there was no smell so assumed it was all just trapped wind.

I slipped into another fitful sleep but awoke with a start. A cucumber had entered my dream-world and that had started to enter me. With my mouth wide open in surprise I could feel a sense of amazement that began as a slight irritated tickle as a prelude to a sneeze. I couldn’t stifle it down and let out a loud sudden “Aasshhooo”. At the same moment I knew the fart I’d just let rip in conjunction with it had been more than the passing of air and my bladder also got in on the act.

I lay there for a second or two trying to take in the momentousness of this triple action but it was too late. I could feel the lump in my boxers and I couldn’t stop piss soaking into the flimsy cotton. Eventually I had to do something and tried to spur myself into action and sidle out from my bed. I had one hand clutching my bum, hoping to hold the contents in, and the other trying desperately to extricate myself from being tangled in the bedding. One-handedly, it was taking quite a bit of time and effort... and panic wasn’t helping the situation.

The clock flashed 02:46 as I finally found my feet and made my way to the bathroom. I slid down those messy boxers and threw them into the bath and immediately sat on the toilet and made sure I emptied myself. The noise and smell was not conducive to sleep though my stomach felt relief whilst filling the bowl.

After a few minutes I felt I was done. I flushed then looked to the debris which were my boxers and gave them a temporary wash through. Standing naked at the sink I could feel eyes on me.

#

“Oh baby,” It was Daddy. “I don’t think you were quite ready for big boy responsibilities were you?”

The independence I thought was so close to what I wanted had disappeared in the mess I’d made and the grown up thoughts I imagined taking their place faded as I stood naked and shaking under Daddy’s watchful eye.

The feeling of guilt and stupidity engulfed me and I could do nothing but sadly shake my head “No Daddy... ermmm... sowwy”. My shame caught in my apology and I felt a tear slip from the corner of my eye.

“Not to worry sweetheart, take a nice long shower... and your bums covered in poo so pay specific attention to that area... and I’ll sort stuff out.”

I nodded that I would. I still had my back turned to him because of the tears and didn’t want him to see how upset the event had made me. It was bad enough that I’d made such a mess and dreaded to think what he’d discover when entering my room. However, at that moment I was just too overcome to give that much thought as I needed to do as Daddy said, and take a shower to clean myself up.

I stood under the warm jets and let the water take some of the guilt away. I saw messy brown blobs slip down the plug hole and wondered if I should have wiped myself better. God, I can’t do anything right. I’m just a silly little baby who needs his Daddy.

#

When I’d finished I grabbed a towel and made my way back to the bedroom. All the bedding had been removed and my little bed just had the clear plastic cover it had had since the mattress had been bought. It was a safety barrier I was glad had never been removed.

Needless to say other than the bedding my room hadn’t changed. The rails around the bed, which for some time now I hadn’t needed raising as I felt safe enough without them, I knew would be back in force next bed time. The posters of Disney characters and kids TV shows I had on the walls, and that I hoped with my new found independence (being a big boy) were going to be changed for something more ‘adult’, were still welcoming. My open closet revealed the clothes daddy preferred me to wear; shorts, onesies, dungarees and other joyfully colourful items beckoned and I knew that my days of being a big boy were over much before they started.

I’d made a mess in Daddy’s boxer shorts; I was just a silly little kid who didn’t know what was best for him. Luckily I had a Daddy who did.

As I patted myself dry Daddy entered the room carrying a bundle of stuff. He looked, as he always did like a man in charge. Hunky, broad, muscular, tall and wearing similar boxers to the ones I’d been wearing (after all they had been a pair of his). His hairy chest and short hair making him appear like someone who should be on TV advertising shampoo or fixing a bit of machinery... well, some such item. Daddy was all man.

“OK baby, let’s get you organised shall we?” It wasn’t really a question as he spread out the stuff on my changing table and indicated to lie out.

“Sowwy Daddy,” I said sheepishly.

He just shushed me with a smile as if to say don’t worry, everything is OK.

First he took a small towel and wiped the area making sure that every crevice was dry and then rubbed in some cream.

I looked up at Daddy to see if he was angry but he just continued to smile and gently shushed me again as I tried to say something.

“All in good time sweetie, first let’s get you ready, eh?”

Next came a shower of talc, I just loved the lavender smell as he smoothed that in.

He unfurled a terry-cotton square, folded it into a triangle, added a thick extra soaker pad and nappy liner “Upsies” he said and slipped it under my bum.

He was very adept at this and swiftly followed through with some pins to fasten it all together... I hardly had time to draw breath.

“Upsies again sweetie,” he smiled and slid a pair of pink plastic pants up and over the bulky nappy. “Nearly there baby.” He then shook out a pink onesie and pulled it over my head. It shimmied down my body so was able to fasten the little studs between my legs. “One last thing,” he pinned a binkie to it and then slipped the silicon bulb between my lips. “There we go all ready for a proper night’s bo-bos now.”

He guided me into his room and drew back the covers. “In you go sweetheart, Daddy thinks it’s best if you’re with him for the rest of the night.”

I crawled into bed, the onesie hugging the nappy close and the binkie soothing my anxieties.

He slipped in behind and nuzzled the short hair on the back of my head.

“Daddy loves his sweet baby so don’t be upset... you’ve done nothing wrong and Daddy’s proud of his sweet little dumpling.” His strong arms encircled me and pulled me in close. It was what I needed. I was hugged and happy so drifted off almost immediately but not before Daddy gave me ‘butterfly kisses’ on the back of my neck and repeated how much he loved me.

I loved it so wriggled and crinkled in contentment “I wuv o oo babby,” was all I could muffle out from behind the binkie.

“OK sweetheart, straight to sleep now. Daddy’s here to protect you from any nasty dreams so you just relax and...”

The soothing sucking action made sure I was asleep before he finished.

#tbc#

[How I became an Executive Toy Parts 1-9 (end)]

Hi Keith

 

Glad you found one of my old stories.

Unfortunately, I have no plans to continue a 'what happened next' sequel.

I know there are quite a few of mine (and others) stories towards the back pages of the 'completed' section and hope you find some extra good stuff there.

All the best and thanks for your comment.😊

Les

[Meanwhile...]

Glad you enjoyed the story... I think we all like the idea of a fairy godfather helping us out.

Who knows, there may be one just waiting in the wings to grant your wish.

Hugs to be going on with

Les😉

[Meanwhile...]

Thanks guys and HUGS to you both😊

[Meanwhile...]

As we get on with our day to day activities, me doing what I do and you doing what you do, there are others that have other things going on...

Meanwhile...

I woke up feeling a chill in the air. It was still dark outside but the street lighting was illuminating my room. Now that was strange because I know I pulled the blinds closed last night so something was up. I scanned the window and saw that it was wide open and that was definitely not the way I’d left it last night... no wonder there was a chill but more importantly I wondered if there was someone in the house.

At that thought a different chill ran through my body, one of nervous apprehension as I deliberated whether to get up and investigate. The trouble was, under the bit of duvet that still covered me I was lovely and warm, it was Sunday (well it would be soon enough), so did I really need to see who had invaded my home?

There was no denying it, as comfy as I was I didn’t like the idea of anyone uninvited in my home, so, pulled back the cover and barefoot, crept towards my bedroom door. That chill in the air was still with me and felt a little spurt of ‘anxiety’ enter my underwear. I was only wearing a pair of briefs but stupidly didn’t wonder if that was the best attire in which to meet a burglar.

Still, I could hear movement downstairs, so that spurred me on, all the time thinking what kind of weapon I might need, and as stealthily as I could, tiptoed to the top of the landing. I wish I had a baseball bat like they always seem to have in movies but alas I only had me to frighten off any intruder. At 5’6” and just nudging 120 pounds I don’t suppose I’m much of a threat but I just hoped they didn’t know just how big I was.

I made a coughing noise in the hope that they would hear me coming and that alone would scare them away. I had faith that they’d be dashing for the door and I wouldn’t need to confront anyone but as I descended there was a mechanical noise I couldn’t place.

I stood listening for a few seconds before I moved into the kitchen where the sound was coming from. Had I somehow left something on?

“Erm, who are you?” I asked with more of a query in my voice than the hard aggressive homeowner I’d hoped to convey.

Sitting at my small kitchen table was a middle-aged man, looking fairly dapper but not in the least bit concerned about my sudden appearance.  He smiled.

“Ah, Martin, glad to see you’re up...” He knew my name but...

“Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my HOUSE.” Oh yes, that was more aggressive and showed I meant business. However, I still hadn’t made a move towards him in case he was armed.

I looked around, something had changed but at that moment I couldn’t quite... oh yes, the place was tidy. The table normally littered with pizza boxes, sauce bottles and empty cans had all been cleared. The sink full of mucky plates and stuff was also empty and as far as I could see all put away. I couldn’t understand what had happened but I nipped across the hallway and into my small living room, which was often even worse and that was also spick and span. What the HELL?

I stormed back into the kitchen. “Just who the hell are you and who sent you and disturbing my Sunday lie in?” I demanded.

“My name is unimportant and for the time being so is who sent me.” He smiled and paused but I was expecting more. However, the silence that followed un-nerved me so I had to say something.

“I don’t think mum would have sent you, well, not at this time of night, errr, day, um, what time is it?” I said to myself out loud.

Then a thought hit me; Am I dead?

“Am I dead?” I asked the smiling man in front of me. “Have I died and gone to... where do you go if you’re not a believer?” I said it out loud but was really only thinking it to myself.

“Oh, so you’re not a believer in God? I don’t suppose you believe in demons and angels, vampires and werewolves... fairies and...”

“No of course not,” I interrupted his flow. “I’m a grown up so don’t believe in Superman, Batman or the Avengers either... although I enjoy the films. I shrugged; I can’t be dead as I’m sure the first thing I’d notice is not an uncluttered kitchen.

“A grown up,” he seemed to find the opinion of myself amusing and tittered quietly to himself.

I looked out of the window and could see the start of dawn... and it looked like it might be a nice day; the horizon, or what little I could see of it behind trees and other houses, looked bright and cloudless.

However, I returned my attention to the burglar.

“So, you crept in through my bedroom window and...”

“I didn’t creep anywhere young man... I do have my dignity...” He said with an attitude he shouldn’t really have, being a burglar and all, but again there was a lengthy pause in the conversation which I felt needed filling.

“My bedroom window is wide open so I think it’s safe to assume that’s how you gained access...”

“No, no, no you silly boy,” I didn’t like being called a silly boy, it’s what mum always called me when... no matter. But despite my look of annoyance he continued, “The window is wide open because your room stinks. You young men have no idea just how much pong your body exudes and as a result of your constant wank... erm, nocturnal pastimes, it sticks around like the mess in your pants... you could cut the atmosphere with a knife.”

“Look,” I said quite awkwardly, “I don’t need you to lecture me on anything about how I live in MY house so, what are you doing here?”

Why was I suddenly feeling guilty in my own home and...?

“Well Martin, lucky for you, I’m here to help.” He smiled and there was a definite twinkle in his eye.

“I’m not sure I need an old man with a cleaning fetish to help me with anything...”

“Old man, OLD MAN,” he seemed annoyed as he blustered, “I’ll have you know that in some circles I’m regarded as quite a young and vibrant catch.”

“Really,” I was enjoying seeing him at a disadvantage, “maybe in the knitting circle at the old folk’s home.” I scoffed.

He stood up and I could see he was quite elegant in the way he dressed but was still indignant and harrumphed as he thought about what he was going to say next.

“Be that as it may... but yes... I am here to help,” and looked me up and down. “For starters, I’m sure Mr Klein doesn’t want his designer briefs to get into such a state.”

I looked down to see what he was referring to and of course he was correct, I’d been wearing my white cotton underpants for a couple of days now (perhaps more) and they had seen several days wear... and, erm, mmmm, nights when I come to think of it... AND I’d just done a nervous spurt of pee in them so they did look a little on the gross side. However, he shouldn’t blame me for wearing them nonstop as dear Calvin does make exceedingly comfy cotton pants, so, he’s the one to take the fall for this particular situation.

However, embarrassed, I quickly covered the manky evidence with the palm of my hand.

“When was the last time you took a shower?” He grimaced as I stood there looking like a little kid who’d just peed their pants, which of course I had.

“I have one every day.” Now it was my turn to be indignant. However, I was lying; I hadn’t had a proper shower for almost a week because I kept getting up late for work so everything was a rush in the morning. When I got home at night I was just too tired to be bothered. Nonetheless, I didn’t need this lunatic having a go thank you very much.

At twenty-three I had my own home and mortgage (well, no I didn’t but paid rent though he didn’t need to know that), had a job as a brickie on a building site and one of the few companies that seemed to have tons of work all the time. It was hard physical work but the boss took a chance on my scrawny body, gave me an apprenticeship at sixteen, and proved I could keep up and do the job.

There was no doubt that the other guys on the site all took advantage of my small stature (in comparison) and I was the ‘baby’ of the team but, as I say, I could do the job and that was all they really cared about. With overtime I was managing to get by OK the only thing lacking was a social life, which to be honest I wasn’t all that bothered about. I liked my own company with my own special thoughts.

He looked around the kitchen and his eyes landed on the washing machine. Surprisingly, I just twigged it was going.

“I suspect, as I couldn’t find any washing powder, that,” he said nodding in its direction, “hasn’t been used for some time.”

The little window on the front showed a soapy swirl of clothes though I couldn’t make out just what he was washing... and why would he use my machine?

“What the hell are you washing...?”

He harrumphed, shook his head in what I suspect was disdain and pointed upstairs. “I think it’s time you took a shower.”

“Don’t tell me what to do mate,” I said mate with aggression rather than, well, you know what... he wasn’t a mate and I think he got the message. Except he did something that made me move, he sniffed the air around me and pulled a face of disgust. I took the hint.

I’m not sure why this was the spur I needed but I turned and started up the stairs to the bathroom, he began to follow.

“Erm, just where do you think you’re going? I said as I turned to face him halfway up the staircase.

“To check you’re doing it correctly.”

“I don’t think so... mate... I don’t need your cleanliness fetish anywhere near my bathroom thank you very much,” I added with a hint of sarcasm.

He shook his head from side to side as if he didn’t believe me and flittered his fingers dismissing my argument and indicating I should get a move on. Again I’m not sure why but I carried on and arrived at the bathroom.

Now, this room is just a place to do my toilet and have the occasional shower but it’s not a space I look after so was a bit nervous about this prim and proper gent seeing what an absolute pig I was. What I became was flabbergasted; on entering the small room it had become a spotless palace, everything gleamed and the toilet, well I could have drunk from the super-clean bowl that was for sure... if I’d needed to that is.

“This was awful Martin, you really do need to step up... and then keep up to your chores.” He faffed around arranging an already well-arranged stack of towels (that I didn’t know I had) and tutted to himself.

He spoke like I was a little kid under instruction and could feel my entire body blush in shame at being caught out like that. I should have said something to this intruder but was a little bit shamed by his comments. I had let things slide, I just couldn’t be arsed.

“Yes, well,” I wanted, no needed, to say something in my defence. ”Yer well, we can’t all have maids and cleaners looking after us can we?” I mumbled but he’d reached in and set the shower going and indicated I should enter the cubicle.

Reluctantly I stepped in but just as the first warm jets hit my body he pointed to my messy briefs. “I’d take them off if I were you.”

“What so you can look at my todger, I don’t think so...”

“Good grief man, do I look like I’m interested in your todg... erm, penis?”

I looked him up and down and shrugged. However, his next comment struck a chord.

“If I were you I’d pay extra attention to the area they cover,” and he pulled a face that left me in no doubt that he thought that my crotch was rank. Well, that’s what I took from his sneer.

I wriggled my now soaked pants down my legs and kicked them off and into the room narrowly missing him.

“Uuurrrgghhhh,” it made me chuckle knowing how they disgusted him.

However, I made sure my back was turned as I didn’t want him looking at my cock... although why I thought him seeing my arse was OK I just don’t know.

I eventually looked around and he’d gone, and so had my underpants. I vaguely wondered if he was some kind of undies pervert but then remembered the washing machine so settled that he was a hygiene perv instead.

I took my time. It really was very nice under the hot shower, I didn’t remember it ever being this temperature in the past but put that down to the fact that the washing machine was running at the same time. Why that would make a difference I had no idea but that’s where my mind went.

I also didn’t remember having so many bottles of shampoo or, I checked the label, Exfoliating Body Wash, Moisturising Creamy Balm, in various exotic aromas. On the other hand I was quite enjoying the soapy embrace of a couple of purple looking liquids that soothed my body and helped me relax a little. For a moment I completely forgot about my visitor.

The novelty of having such a hot spray for a shower made me just stand there and let the soothing jets radiate around my body. Eventually I had to get a grip so applied loads of stuff and as the lather built up I noticed a loofah I didn’t know I had and began to exfoliate as the instructions advised. It all felt so gloriously invigorating I was enjoying the slick process. Oddly I felt quite rejuvenated by the time I turned the water off and reached for one of the fluffiest towels I’d ever encountered, Surely this couldn’t be mine as well?

I mainly dried off in the bathroom and then ambled towards my bedroom still rubbing the remains of the lovely shower from my hair. As I entered the room of course he was there but the bed had been stripped, clothes hung up (I supposed) and all that remained to be seen was the mattress with the ever present waterproof cover that had always been there... at mum’s insistence when I moved in.

One of the reasons I left home was because mum was always on at me for the occasional accidents I had whilst I slept. She wasn't awful about it, in fact she said she understood and wanted me to wear protection at night but, although there was obvious sense to that, I didn’t want to be ‘that guy who needed nappies’.

She wouldn’t let up so when I got the opportunity to leave I did so... even though in some ways I regret doing so. Her tender understanding made me feel guilty so to avoid that I left, but, as they say, I made my bed and now had to lie in it. I really should be thanking this man for changing the bedding because I hadn’t done so for months... I guess that was already in the machine.

Anyway, he was standing and surveying my hair.

“That’s all a bit unruly but someone else will see to that no doubt.” He was more talking to himself than me but he indicated a pile of stuff that I hadn’t noticed on the dresser. “OK, let’s get you ready, you have a full day ahead of you.”

“WHAT?” I was perplexed. I had no plans for the day, it was Sunday and all I expected to be doing at the most, was trip to the pub at lunchtime, have a couple of pints and return happy and gorge myself on a frozen pizza which lay unappetisingly in the fridge.

“Look Martin I’m here to help and you have to trust me.”

“Why? I have no idea who you are, why you’re here and more importantly... you weren’t invited.”

He’d wandered over to the pile of stuff on the dresser.

“Chuck us over a pair of pants whilst you’re there.” I called.

“No pants today... something I think you’ll find a lot better.” I don’t know how he did it but there was a little shimmy as he reached for the first object. “Now then, why don’t you just lie out on your bed and I’ll begin.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” He was approaching with what looked like a disposable nappy.

“You’ve got a very exciting day ahead of you so I’m here to make sure you are completely ready for it.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” But I just strode past him and opened the top drawer of the dresser where I store my pants. It was empty, so was the other drawer. “Where are my pants?”

He put his finger to his ear as if to tell me to listen. All I could hear was the washing machine... oh... he’d put everything in the laundry.

“Oh very clever,” I derided.

“They were all pretty scruffy and, well, I think it will take more than one cycle to clean those things... the bin might have been a better preference.” Her shrugged and fluffed the disposable out in front of me. “Right, please lie out and I can get started.”

“Listen mate... you aren’t going to start anything because I don’t wear a fucking nappy.” I hoped my anger would scare him off.

“Maybe, but you want to.” His comment startled me. He saw that I looked shocked. “Oh c’mon Martin, everyone knows what you think about, what you dream about, what action you take to get excited when your need to fall asleep... and that isn’t fast cars and loose women now is it?”

I had been feeling all nice, warm and relaxed but a sudden shiver ran throughout my body and I could hardly speak.

“Wha, whattt, erm, ummmm, what do you mean?”

“I know what your secret, and not so secret, desires are Martin and as I said, I’m here to help so let’s not play the ‘innocent’ because I know it’s not true. Now come on and let’s get you into this nappy to start with and then we can...”

“Don’t be stupid. I don’t want...” I crossed my arms like a toddler would refusing to eat anything but ice cream.

“I said stop with the denials and the temper tantrums I know, as your mother knew, that what you really need is a nice ‘special friend’ to take care of you.”

“I don’t need a ‘special friend’ for...”

My towel fell to the floor and I was standing naked in front of this stranger. Not only that but I noticed that all my hair had disappeared... I was pubeless.

“You need a friend to look after you... some sort of father figure... like you dream about.”

I shrugged and looked at the floor... I didn’t want to admit anything but came out with “Daddy left us when I was three so....”

“I know that Martin and I’m sure you’ve felt guilty about your, shall we say, strange feelings that over the past few years have taken control off your more ‘nocturnal activities’.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” But I did. The number of times I’ve erupted into my CKs just wishing... but this guy shocked me because I knew he knew and that worried me.

“Look Martin it’s as easy as pie. Let me give you a nice dusting of powder, a quick flip of the disposable and you’ll be in it in a trice and more comfy than you’ve ever felt in a pair of Mr Klein’s undies.”

“But, but, I can’t, it’s stupid, I’m not a baby, I’m a....”

“Man?”

I nodded but he knew that wasn’t exactly what I wanted. I wanted, like in every night time visualization and desperate longing to have a strong man to...

But he dragged me back to the here and now.

“Now, just let me check that you’re completely dry.” He took the towel and as I stood there naked wiped over every part of my body again paying special attention to between my legs.

The depilation had done a remarkable job because I was so smooth I fair gleamed and my body felt soft and a pleasure to be inside.

He nodded his approval, “Smooth like a little boy should be,” he murmured to himself.

However, I was still battling in my head what he’s said, what he was inferring and whether I should comply with his demands. The disposable did look nice and thick and I had craved such a piece of underwear though never admitted it to anyone so no one but me had any... except... did mum know?

“Did mum send you?” I nervously asked.

“That’s not important at this moment little boy...”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, I don’t think it’s any surprise that this is what you’ve been dreaming about for ages and now...”

“Look, whether it is or it isn’t... I make my own decisions and...”

“Now stop that at once. We have a lot to do and I don’t need any un-necessary arguments about it.”

“Don’t tell me what to DO.” I hoped I was more forceful with my displeasure but he just looked infinitely more severe.

“You know sweet boy,” I knew he was holding a threat in those two words, “you’re not too old to be put over my knee for a sound spanking...”

“Yes I am. I’m a grown man...” I pouted.

“No you’re not,” he laughed in derision, “You’re just a little boy who needs some help...”

“NO, NO, NO, NO” I screamed.

“Right, any more of that and it is straight over my knee.”

“No it’s not.” I countered aware of my rights.

He stood stock still whilst holding onto my arm. “Do you really want to test me?” His grip was steely and looked far too serious to be challenged so meekly I shook my head no.

In that instant he was correct, I was no longer a man with a job and responsibilities, I was a little hairless boy who needed a grown up for guidance.

“OK then” He smiled and told me to lie out and let him tape me into the nice thick, fluffy nappy he said had my name on it.

Like an idiot I looked to see if I could see my name but realised it was just a turn of phrase.

Without so much as asking or with any kind of preliminary warning, he started massaging in some lovely smelling lotion. The shower of powder smelled equally as nice and felt wonderful being rubbed into my nappy area. The fact it was being applied by a complete stranger appeared to have slipped my mind. Although I think it was the threat of going over his knee that was the real reason.

Strangely, what popped into my head was... this was a man looking after me, he wasn’t the man of my dreams, but it just felt agreeable. The thick velvety material pulled up between my legs and gently fastened into place was done with such care I wondered if I could simply go back to bed and sleep the sleep of the contented. It was like all my hopes and dreams had suddenly been fulfilled by this flexible and unbelievably comfortable piece of underwear. The impression of belonging, being a big kid and being looked after all bubbled up in my head... it was ecstasy.

How could I have denied myself such a simple pleasure and what’s more – how did this intruder know?

Meanwhile... elsewhere

I was woken up by a firm knock at the door. I got up and looked out the bedroom window to see a delivery man with a large box who was obviously waiting for me to go down and sign something. The trouble was... I wasn’t expecting anything.

He knocked again, this time a bit more forcefully, so I couldn’t ignore him even though I knew he must have the wrong address.

When I eventually opened the door the young man smiled but I could tell he was in a hurry and offered me the pad to sign.

“I’m not expecting anything... you must have the wrong address.” I shook my head and started to close the door.

He looked at his pad. “David Evans,” he said reading the name on the box, and then read out my address.

“Oh, erm, yes, that’s me.”

“Well then,” he offered me the pad to sign again. “It looks like someone’s sent you something... maybe it’s something you want but didn’t know you wanted?” He smiled the cutest smile, which actually won me over and although I was still a bit perplexed as to why, I grabbed the box and hefted it into my hallway.

“Pyjamas perhaps... enjoy,” he chuckled over his shoulder as he made his way back to the Amazon van.

I closed the door and stood pondering who could have sent me a package. It wasn’t my birthday, we had quite a number of months to go before Christmas was upon us and yet I had this surprise gift.

Oh bloody hell. I just realised that my dressing gown was open and my silk boxers, my pyjamas, were clearly in view and I was ‘sporting morning wood’... as the porn mags of my youth used to say.

That puts the deliveryman’s comment into perspective. No wonder that grumpy face turned to a smile when he must have noticed... mind you, he wasn’t embarrassed by my cock’s appearance so... had it interested him? He was quite cute but I suppose the moment has now passed and I have this unknown parcel to open and find out who sent it and why.

To my disbelief and confusion the box was full of disposable nappies, plus an assortment of bottles and containers of cream, powder and ointment (and who knew what else?). There must have been twenty packs of different styles and colours but I didn’t order any of this stuff and there was no accompanying letter or invoice from which company sent them.

This was weird because, although I looked at quite a lot of ABDL stuff online, and loved the idea of looking after some little cutie (come back Amazon delivery guy) I’d never really thought about nappies for myself. I just liked to see them on others and even that was on specific people - boyish looking teens who needed a daddy figure being the preference.

Still, as there was no return address it looked like I was stuck with them and their presence did make me reappraise my situation.

It’s true that I had thought I’d found a partner on a couple of occasions but unfortunately they never quite worked out. A change of desires, the need to grow up, to exert their own independence - I wasn’t against any of this but those relationships ended with them finding that outlet elsewhere.

I wanted to look after them, to be their daddy but most of all to keep them in nappies. It had been a desire I’d had for as long as I could remember. I wasn’t bothered about wearing such a lovely padded item but I just loved to see others in them. That fetish grew to such an extent it was what I needed to make any such rapport work, alas, lovely thick padding not for everyone.

Despite at 42 being comfortable finance wise (I run my own company), fairly healthy (I followed quite a strict daily dietary and exercise programme), around 200 pounds and had loads of love to give to the right person, I was alone. My preferences for a mate had yet to be matched and I’d all but given up searching. However, this surprise package had quickly re-established that yearning but what to do with it... or about it?

Of course doubt suddenly swept through my mind – had I inadvertently ordered something and couldn’t remember doing so. I quickly grabbed my home laptop (I have a home and a work laptop and the two are never used for the same thing), and checked the history.

Nothing.

I examined my phone to see if I’d had a message from Amazon about a delivery time.

Nothing.

And then thoroughly checked the box because other stuff I bought online was well signposted and had all manner of labels and barcodes.

Nothing.

In fact, I began to wonder if it was an actual Amazon driver who had delivered this box. I mean he was dressed like an Amazon driver, the van, ah, the van, I might have assumed was Amazon because of its colour but of course it might not have been I hadn’t paid it that much attention. Still, even if that was the case, who the hell had sent me this stuff... and why?

Anyway, all this worry would have to wait because now I was up I had things to do. The early morning weather was OK and Sundays often saw a few of us fitness freaks out running, jogging and checking our Fitbits were working correctly. So, as was usual I got ready for my daily ten mile run.  Once that was decided I hoped the fresh air would clear my brain and I could think about what now took up space in my hallway. I slipped on a pair of Adidas shiny Neuclassics shorts, pulled on my bright reflective vest, found my Nike running shoes and was ready in next to no time.

I checked in the mirror that everything fitted tightly and thought I looked pretty good. Not that I’m narcissistic but I’ve  tried to keep myself in good shape so there’s no fat, and at six foot two, I like to think I carry my hairy body quite well. Not that I speak to anyone when I’m on a run, the occasional nod is as about as far as I go for social interaction.

I set my Fitbit, shoved in my ear buds and anticipated that I’d be back in less than 90 minutes. My cat stretched out, looked at me with utter disdain, curled up, settled back down in her chair and returned to whatever is the cat equivalent to the Land of Nod.

#

Meanwhile... back to the beginning

I was overjoyed at wearing a thick disposable even though, at that moment, my padded backside was getting a firm pat from this strange intruder. The thing is it was nice; in fact, the softness of the padded material had been a surprise. I may have thought about wearing a nappy for some time but I never really imagined it would feel as wonderful as this. My Calvin Klein’s had enough smoothness, or so I thought, but this was way, way better.

“I knew that’s what was needed,” said the smiling burglar. He seemed so pleased with himself to have got me dressed and giggling (I don’t know why) at my reflection in the mirror. The very thing I’d dreamt about and desired but had never acted upon I was now wearing.  I did a little jig and examined myself from all angles, smoothing down the slinky padding and running my hands over the supple vinyl pants. I could enjoy doing that all day.

“Erm, we haven’t finished yet,” The dapper little man explained, “We have a few more things that need attending to... raise your arms.”

He pulled a pale green onesie over my head and fastened the poppers under my crotch, which sort of lifted the bulk and held it firmly in place... it felt terrific.

“Mmmm,” the stranger looked at me from side to side weighing up options, “I think I know what will go best with this,” and as if by magic produced a pair of green short dungarees, which he had me step into. He wriggled them up my thighs and over the bulky nappy bulge and slipped my arms through the braces. “Mmmm,” he murmured approvingly, “you look very sweet.”

The reflection said I looked like a toddler but I loved what I saw and all I needed was a stuffed toy animal and a dummy and it would be me, as far as family photos were concerned, when I was about two. The entire image had me wriggling excitedly like a two year old as well but it felt right though I wasn’t sure why.

Conversely, though I was quite enjoying the moment, I was also wondering what the hell was going on. I mean, I’d let a complete stranger dress me as a toddler with barely a word of complaint but now, other than he seemed to know my desires, it just seemed unbelievable. Yet here I was looking as cute as a very cute button.

“OK, OK,” he was still admiring how I was dressed and straightening my straps, which crossed behind my back, “what the hell is going on and who sent you?” I asked a little more petulantly than I’d hoped.

He stood back, “A little boy should be seen and not heard, especially when he comes out with naughty words... so, I think we’ll have this,” and he produced a dummy, “in there,” and shoved it in my mouth, “and you need to be at your sweetest as you’re going to meet your new daddy.”

“FWWWHHAAA?” I tried to say “What?” but the dummy interfered. I was about to take it out but he just shook his head and I immediately did as he instructed.

“That’s better. Now,” he slipped a pair of reins over my shoulders and fastened them in place, “I need you to be on your best behaviour when we go for a lovely morning walk.”

“Burr, burrrttt, erm....” My dummy was soaked in spit so I had to suck harder to stop from dribbling onto my onesie.

“No buts, we have to set off now so let’s not be silly or drag your feet. It’s time to go....”

The door opened and before I knew it I was walking down my garden path and out onto the public pavement dressed as a toddler and being guided by this strange little man who instructed where I should be heading.

Those people, who were out and about looked, smiled and waved. Did everyone see this as ‘normal’? Although the outfit was incredibly comfortable, I wasn’t that comfortable with anyone being able to see me this way. I didn’t know what to do. Making a run back into the house wasn’t an option, I was tethered by reins, and stupidly thought I’d only draw attention to myself if I began to create, so the best thing was... to go along with it all.

I was surprised at the friendliness of my neighbours, some I had never spoken to before but who had a cheery wave and a smile.

#

Meanwhile... erm... a realisation

I’d just jogged to the end of the cul-de-sac where I live and joined the main road when the wind seemed to pick up. Thankfully, the sun was still shining and the breeze was on my back so adjusted my pace accordingly and...

The Fitbit suddenly stopped working and the music I liked to run to abruptly finished. There wasn’t anything on the small wrist screen so thought about turning back and sorting it out. However, it wouldn’t be the first time I’d exercised without music, although these days it is a bit of a trial to do so. Mind made up - I’d carry on without my personal musical score.

A low-loader lorry hurtled past and the noise from the engine wasn’t helped by the sound of a loose piece of thin plastic wrapping flapping loudly as it sped along. It should have been secure and I hated to think about it coming free, landing on a speeding car and the possible ensuing accident.

Up ahead I could see another runner, well, I thought it might be a runner. He was small in stature but was wearing green shorts but looking over the fields and pointing something out. I assumed he must be on the phone and talking to someone but then of course what I dreaded happening, happened.

The loose piece of plastic flew off the back of the lorry and I could see it was quite a considerable size as it billowed in the air before plummeting down onto that unsuspecting person up ahead. I saw it wrap itself around him and watched as tightly bound he tumbled down into a ditch. Meanwhile, the lorry continued on its way seemingly unaware of the incident it had caused.

As I appeared to be the only other person around I rushed up to help and found someone thrashing ineffectively about trying to extricate themselves from what appeared to be a cellophane prison. I mean under other circumstances it could have been quite funny but I didn’t know if the victim was injured or not. I eased myself down the embankment and found a young lad caught up in a cling-filmy trap.

“Are you OK?” I queried as I began to try and unwrap the poor bewildered chap.

He was struggling and I wasn’t sure he was totally aware of just what had happened.

“This,” I said holding up a piece of the wayward material, “blew off a lorry and wrapped itself around you... are you injured at all?”

Eventually, after a few more seconds of fight he paused and I could make out there were tears in his eyes and he was crying.

“ARE YOU INJURED?” I’m not sure why I thought by shouting would make him understand better but his tears told me something was hurting. “Don’t cry little fellow, I’ll soon have you out... don’t panic... you’ll be OK.”

I was trying to calm him but he looked really shook-up and I reckon he was only a kid and possibly in some kind of shock. In fact, as I pulled some of the clingy material away I could see he was dressed as a toddler and obviously had a thick nappy on under his cute little shorts... which actually looked like a pair of kiddie dungarees... though he wasn’t as young as his outfit.

I don’t know how it had done it but the clingy stuff had almost mummified him it was wrapped so tight. He didn’t say anything as he still looked pretty stunned at his predicament but it was like he’d been gift-wrapped for me. 

“Are you hurt?” I continued to pull apart the cellophane, which was a lot more difficult once I thought of him as a gift I was unwrapping because although I was trying to look serious, I had a smile on my face. He looked so sweet, confused and... just my type.

Eventually I was able to free his head and he was able to speak. “It’s not funny.” He seemed pretty shaken.

“No indeed not but are you hurt?”

“Well I banged my leg and my ankle hurts but I won’t know until I’m completely free.”

“No, yes, of course not,” I began to add a bit more effort into releasing him from his see-through shroud.

I’d managed to shred it enough for him to move but all the time I kept looking at him and saw just what a cute lad he was... maybe he was a present.

“What were the chances of that happening?” I helped him to his feet and saw him grimace a little when he put weight on his right ankle.

“Oww!”

“Oh be careful. Look do you live near...”

“About a mile away I was with...erm... where the hell... um... just...” He looked confused. “Did you see the guy I was with?”

“I didn’t see you with anyone... did you get a bang on the head?”

He looked around some more and then down at what he was wearing as if for the first time he was aware of where he was.

“Erm,” he looked embarrassed because the loose reins came into view as he turned adding another level of cuteness to this ‘present’.

I jumped in. “If you think you can make it I live just down the road there,” and nodded towards the cul-de-sac, “let me take a look at your ankle and see if there’s anything else you might have... injured.”

The thing was I could smell urine and wondered if he might have wet himself under duress and of course, the reason for the morning delivery came into focus. They’re meant for you, I thought, not me... and I put my arm around his shoulder and let him rest his weight on mine as he hopped the short distance back to my house.

“Well this,” I said by way of conversation, “takes the biscuit. It’s been a strange morning already and...”

I heard him mumble “Tell me about it” under his breath but I thought it might be best to leave the chat until he was safely home and I could check him out in case he needed any treatment. There’s a Minor Injuries Unit hospital not far away so I could drive him there if he needed anything strapping or sewn up.

Of course, the first thing he saw on entering my house was the large open box in the hallway, and the packages of disposables I’d checked before leaving.

He looked at me and still a little unsure said in a very small voice... “Umm Daddy?”

Now I’m not stupid and was quick to connect all the dots so far today and I reckoned that someone somewhere had decided that I needed somebody in my life. I’m not sure if it was a reward for being a Good Samaritan or if I’d had a wish, perhaps had unknowingly met a Genie (ha-ha) and hadn’t known about it but this boy, this lad, this Gift, was certainly worth acknowledging.

I patted his inflated padding “Certainly looks like it son.” He needed my help and protection... he needed looking after “Let me see what damage has been done... and then I’ll change your wet nappy, OK?”

He looked both stunned and stunning but there was no doubt that somewhere along his journey the experience had made him wet himself.

“OK” although his voice was low he smiled a wonderful innocent smile and looked relieved. “Did you know I was coming?” Again his question was loaded with uncertainty.

“I didn’t... but someone did” I mused “However, for now, let daddy check that ankle.”

“OK, thank you,” and with that he relaxed onto my sofa.

Like my cat, who was still sleeping on her chair, he looked like he belonged. I don’t know how or why it’s happened but thank god it has.

Yes, I thought, he’s just about perfect... my little boy is home.

Meanwhile... erm... belief in a Fairy Godfather?

There’s a gorgeous hunk of a man checking I’m not injured and he’s doing it with such care.

My stranger/ burglar was nowhere to be seen and as this Knight in Shining Armour hadn’t noticed me with anyone... where the hell had he disappeared to?

Anyway, this guy has a stack of nappies so it can’t be a coincidence. That burglar who’d invaded my home said I was meeting a...

Bloody hell, is this the man... the man to be... umm daddy? The words slipped out before I knew it and did he just say he’s going to change my nappy?

What was it the burglar said, something like “You don’t believe in demons and angels, vampires or werewolves... fairies and...”?

‘Had he been my Fairy Godfather?’ I asked myself incredulously.

I mean, look at me, the way I’m dressed? I wouldn’t have worn this on purpose, um, would I? Not that I don’t like it, it was all the rage when I was a toddler but now I just feel... well... to be honest... it feels just about the most comfortable thing I’ve ever worn.

I wiggled my butt and the padding felt pretty soaked... then I had another thought.

Oh hell, I’ve just been delivered to my daddy, perhaps not in an orthodox way but still, here I am and, from the box of disposables, it looks like he was expecting me.

He’s strong, he all but carried me back, he’s tall and hairy and has sensitive eyes... and the way his soft gentle fingers are inspecting my foot for damage... mmmmmm I could get used to this.

Yes? I thought, he’s just about perfect... I hope he likes me.

“Erm I’m Martin.” It was strange that only now I’d decided to tell him my name.

“Oh hello Marty, I’m David... but from now on... you can call me...”

Marty? Yes I thought I like that... and certainly liked what he wanted me to call him.

####### The End #######

[what happen to story]

Hi jen1234

The story was - The Trouble With Confession by none other then... me.

It was one of my stories that I hoped might take off but there appeared to be very little reaction to it and so I found other stories that I thought might appeal more.

I hate leaving unfinished stories up so simply deleted it on here but have every intention of completing it at some later date.

I'm encouraged that you should remember it and so I'll take another look and, well, I can't promise anything.

[TYME is on your side 1-7]

A HUGE thanks to you all for your wonderful and supportive comments I really appreciate them as they make me incredibly happy 😊 . Sorry but they do.

I always like the idea of a young guy suddenly realising that a diaper can be his best friend - some thing there to give him a cuddle when there's no one else around and something to offer protection and security for those moments when the pressure can just get too much.

We've all found our own way to enjoy their padded comfort but for some it just takes a little nudge in the right direction... I wonder if his mom already knew?

Hugs and thanks

Les

 

[TYME is on your side 1-7]

Part 7

 

The drive to the beach wasn’t far but the car was alive with the screech of excitement from Josh. He asked if he could go in the sea, eat ice-cream, play in the sand and with each affirmation from mom he squealed his happiness again. Despite the fact that I was still wearing my E4 uniform and thick diaper, his enthusiasm began to rub off and I was equally excited at what would happen once we got there. After all, I’d just been playing with kids his age all day so it was easy to get caught up in his childish anticipation.

 

The beach was busy with happy noisy families, couples and groups relaxing and playing games but not too packed that there wasn’t space to enjoy the setting. Dad was easy to find because, out of the sea of white, yellow and blue sun umbrellas, ours was the only pink one. I had no idea where it came from but dad had also set out a huge pink beach blanket on the soft golden sand with an assortment of colourful cool-bags which promised a fantastic picnic.

When we got there mom kissed dad, who was wearing a dandy looking pair of red shorts with a pale pink and blue striped open-necked shirt, and whispered in his ear whilst looking in my direction. I guess she was giving him a quick synopsis of my doctor’s appointment. He smiled and called me over.

“I’m proud of you son,” and hugged me tightly, “but suspect you’d be a lot happier to be out of your school clothes, eh?”

I’d never seen dad dressed this way, looking happy and relaxed and a good deal younger than he looked at our old place. There, he always looked tired and drab but I suppose that was down to the awful work he had to do and the little time he had for us as he was working so hard. So, where had all the lines and furrowed brow gone?

Bizarrely, I’d all but forgotten about what I was wearing being caught up in just how many people were out enjoying the seashore. However, dad’s words suddenly made me think and became conscious of my thick diaper and onesie.

I nodded and from behind his back he waved my favourite orange swim shorts.

“Well why not put these on and then we can all feel a little more relaxed.”

My eyes grew at the sight and the thought of wearing shorts again and even happier that dad had decided to bring something for me to change into.

Mom was already stripping Josh out of his blue and white school uniform and had his favourite little nylon trunks with fish all over them ready to climb into. He’d already spotted some mates and was eager to be off and play with them. So, after a few quick words of caution he ran off to join them down by the water's edge. I wondered how I was going to do this. Did I just pull off all my clothes out in the open like Josh and step into my shorts or try and hide the fact I was wearing a diaper.

Dad had already decided.

“OK Jamie, just lie out and I’ll get you ready.”

“Dad, I can do it myself.” I tried to sound mature.

“I have no doubt son but, if you just lie out, no one will be able to see you and I’m sure we can get you out of those,” he pointed to my diaper, “and into these,” he held up my brightly coloured shorts, “without drawing attention to...”

“Dad, I think that’s unlikely. We’re the only ones with pink all around and these orange shorts are like a flag.” We both scanned our neighbours. Without doubt we were attracting some attention because of our colourful surroundings.

“Well, I suppose you’re right but it’s up to you...”

So I simply let dad help me off with the onesie, he pulled down the yellow plastic pants and helped undo the large (and still dry) yellow diaper, whilst I quickly skipped my naked butt into my large baggie shorts. I was incredibly pleased to not have padding but oddly, in not doing so, it felt peculiar. However, not wearing was a first for some time and made me feel oddly nervous of this sudden freedom. I was the only one sporting such a vivid colour and I was surprised to see so many people looking. In fact, I caught the eye of a group of kids around my age kicking a ball around and they called me over.

“Can I go dad?” All the other kids were in shorts. In fact I noticed that even away from the beach kids stuck to the school rule of ‘no long trousers until teenage years’, and even then a few older teens didn’t seem that bothered.

“There’s nothing to stop you doing whatever you want... if you can, just keep an eye on your brother and come back when you’re hungry. We have plenty of goodies and plan on being here until about eight so... off you go.”

The late afternoon sun still had plenty of heat in it and the clear blue sky showed no signs of that changing. The idea there was still hours of fun left of the day made me smile. In the past I’d been less than enthusiastic about showing any pleasure at being on the beach but now, I suppose because I’d got used to play in E4, I was just as keen as all the others to have fun.

I looked over at mom who was shooing me away and I saw her sit next to dad and slip on sunglasses.

“Have fun,” she shouted as I made my way apprehensively over to the group of lads who, all smiles, were waiting to see if I’d join them.

#

Most of the other guys wore white, blue, yellow or a combination of TYME’s colours as trunks or shorts so I suppose I created a splash of the unusual to the proceedings. More than one asked where I got them from and I just mentioned I’d brought them with me when we moved here.

There was a quick round of introductions and “Hi’s” and I recognised one or two and supposed it must have been from school but, as I’d never really taken much notice of anyone it was like meeting people for the first time.

One or two shook their heads as they pointed to the pinkness that surrounded mom and dad. “Your family must be rebels” and cheekily grinned as we launched into our game.

This wasn’t quite what I expected as once again no one mentioned the fact that they had just seen me step out of a onesie and diaper. Perhaps it wasn’t so strange an event as I thought or maybe there were a lot of us about and I just didn’t know it? However, I couldn’t help but check all the other boy’s shorts to see if there were any hidden bulges but it appeared I would have been alone.

However, before long I was engrossed in a game of five-a-side footie and didn’t realise just how much I’d missed such communal games. At my old place this type of thing, or shoot some hoops, were a daily occurrence and I’d missed it but avoided such diversions once we arrived here. However, now I was playing and having a really good kick about, like in the E4 classroom; I forgot to think and simply enjoyed the game.

Occasionally, I’d look over to mom and dad and they’d be chatting to some people who I suspect were work colleagues but, as I’d avoided as much contact as possible with their friends, I might be wrong. However, the pink umbrella was certainly attracting attention and both my parents seemed happy with whatever comments were being made. It’s weird  that I’d never thought of my parents as ‘rebels’ yet here they were, flaunting convention, and apparently enjoying it. There seemed to be a lot of laughter and jokiness going on, which for the first time in ages made me proud of my parents.

After about twenty minutes of charging around I noticed that Josh and a couple of his mates had returned to the blanket and were tucking into some food so, realising I was quite hungry, excused myself and headed in that direction. The teams seemed to take this opportunity to do the same and return to their families.

When I got there mom said that if I wanted to invite any of my friends over that was OK as we had hampers full of stuff. I thought it might be too soon but mom waved a couple over who were there together but looked on ravenously. So then, before I knew it, there was quite a bunch of us tucking into chicken wings, subs and pastries. There were loads of cartons of juice and cans of cola and how dad had kept them all so chilled I do not know but, after such a sweaty run about in the late afternoon sun, I think we all appreciated his efforts.

It was strange how mom and dad appeared to know the kid’s names and who their parents were. I was the only one who had no idea that the two lads who’d come to join us lived just down the road from us. Even Josh seemed to know who they were and they knew him; they were all chatting away like old friends, whilst I was occasionally drawn into conversation about people I had no idea about. There was a lot of laughter, from them, and the food went down very well with... I suppose... my new friends?

#

Eventually, and quite unintentionally, I seemed to get absorbed into the group and we were talking about the music we liked. Dad was having a go at current trends, whilst I and my new friends, Ken and Terry, had to defend just how great our choices were. Dad had to admit that he hated sounding like grandad because he’d hated the music dad liked. We derided him for being an old fogey... he’s thirty-four.

Meanwhile, Joshy and his mates had grabbed mom and were making sandcastles.

“Old Fogey am I?” Dad suddenly got up off the blanket, “OK race you to the sea and last one in is the old...”

It wasn’t fair because he was on his way before we all knew what the challenge was but even Josh and his mates were up and following dad in a race to the sea. He won of course, but we all plunged in and were refreshed by the warm waves as they lapped around us.

Josh and his friends were nervous about coming in too deep because they couldn’t swim so dad began to teach the youngsters and we all got involved in that. Hence, from nowhere he’d got us all to cooperate, involving us teens in the needs of toddlers. It was only later when we got home that I realised what a great picnic and evening out it had been. I also realised that I hadn’t laughed as much since I’d arrived here.

When it was bed time, and after I’d watched a very tired Joshy being put into his night time diaper, dad indicated for me to follow him upstairs. I was still wearing just my orange shorts and a t-shirt. He was going to get me ready for bed and as we entered my room the stuff was prepared so knew it was back to diapers for me. I’d enjoyed my freedom in my swimwear but they were taking no chances yet so my nightly protection stayed, for the time being at least.

Regardless of the fact that I still wanted to rebel and not enjoy living in TYME, today had proved the best day by far and dad promised if I let go of my hang ups, it would only get better. The fact that mom and dad had been seen as rebels by some because of the ‘pink’ interlude had also added to my general opinion, not of TYME but of them. Perhaps they weren’t quite such ‘selfish bastards’ as I thought. On top of that I’d received several invites from my new mates to join them in future outings... it was very tempting.

#

The reason I was having doubts was simply because I thought I was abandoning my friends back home, my old home, and I thought that was some kind of betrayal. Dad seemed to get that because as he finished pinning me in the thick yellow and blue fabric and slipping up the blue plastic pants, he said.

“We’re proud of you son. Today you’ve made a real effort and I think that’s not only a good thing for us as a family, it’s good for you to know that you can have friends wherever you are.”

“But dad, I don’t want to forget my mates back home.” I said quietly.

Dad looked down and sighed. “Son, nobody is asking you to but it’s called change. You’ve moved on and they will have as well. They know you’ve moved away and probably miss you but, they have each other and you need to find new friends because being alone is not good for anyone.” He stroked my brow and I wriggled under his loving touch. “Your mates back home, as they get older, might well decide to move to pastures new themselves. It’s what people do to try and find a better place for the next part of their lives. When that opportunity arrives you must grab it with both hands.”  

Dad was being serious but not laying down the law, a bit like Doctor Susan, and I appreciated his gentle and understanding manner.  

“We never once got to the seaside before we moved.” Dad was in a sombre mood. “We never had the chance for picnics simply because we were too busy holding down two crappy jobs each just to get by. Son, this is paradise compared with where we were and we want you to love it, and the opportunities on offer, as much as we have embraced...”

“But dad," I interrupted his flow, "why do they have to know everything... isn’t that a bit weird and frightening?”

“James,” he was using my grown-up name and not the usual Jamie, “If we thought it was too intrusive and not for our benefit we wouldn’t have come. I know we sound like converts to a cult but believe me when you get a little older you’ll be glad of a system that looks out for you... and be thankful of that degree of intrusion.”

He was patting my arm and I could feel just how sincere he was about what he’d just said.

“I’m not sure you understand yet son but they are trying things here that are new and exciting, especially to people of my generation. We’ve seen big government fail us, we’ve seen social inclusion fail us... in fact the only success has been the rich getting richer and the poor, well, nothing ever gets better for them. To us James, this is Utopia and we need to try it. If that means a little bit of intrusion... or social accountability... so be it.”

I was impressed with dad’s passion and although I’m sure he’d said all this before, or at least a version of it, I’d only just opened my ears to listen to what was being said.

“OK dad, thanks... but dad... there’s something else?”

He paused at the door and I could feel the comfort of my diaper dragging me towards sleep.

“Yes, what is it?”

“PINK... what were you thinking?”

He swaggered a little. “You’re not the only one who can buck the system.”

I fell asleep thinking of my parents as starting a revolution in TYME but come the morning and some things hadn’t changed...  I woke up soaking wet.

#

As I’d been wearing a diaper to bed now for quite some time, and I’d normally be standing at the window or lying waiting for one of my parents to come and change me, I was feeling a little grateful to the fact that my diaper, even wet, was very comfy. How the diaper cleaning company managed to get them not only perfectly clean but so soft, I’ll never know. However, after not having to wear one at the beach I had hoped I might not have to wear one to school.

The thing was that, well, OK, as much as I hated to admit it, I’d really enjoyed myself at the beach. Because of that one experience, where I let go of all my hang ups, I was coming round to mom and dad’s argument about this place and hoping that I wouldn’t have to return to E4. Alas, when mom came in, she was carrying a fresh diaper, white shiny pants and the obvious yellow and blue onesie.

“Mom, can’t I just go to my normal class?”

“Well love, as great as that sounds, you haven’t yet showed the school itself that you are ready to advance.” She paused to let that bit of bad news filter into my head, but didn’t make any comment on the simple fact I was sopping wet - so what did I expect? “Just remember that you were rude, you swore and have been generally unpleasant to everyone, so you were spanked. That means your civic file has you down as boy who has yet to grow up.”

“My civic file, what am I supposed to do to change that?” I was annoyed that I even had such a thing.

“This is the problem you have Jamie, you get upset or annoyed at everything when there is no need. We all have a civic file because this place has robust civic values. Flout them at your peril because they are there for the good of everyone and not just you.”

I grumbled to myself but for the first time I was torn. Had mom got a point - am I just reacting for the sake of it when there’s no need, or am I a campaigner for my rights?

“What can I do then to change this file?”

Mom helped me out of my soaked padding and ushered me towards the bathroom.

“I’m not sure... but think that might be something you’ll just have to work out for yourself. Loads of people have given you chances and you’ve just thrown them in their faces. Yesterday was the first time I think YOU actually made an effort... and look what happened.... you enjoyed it and made friends.”

I closed the bathroom door and stepped under the shower. She was right I was still buzzing from having friends to have fun with, the only time since I’d been here at TYME. Actually, that’s not quite true. I’d had fun all day playing with the rest of my little E4 buddies and although I was a good deal older than any of them, it didn’t seem to matter. There had been times when I’d completely forgotten about being dressed as a toddler and weirdly just let myself go and be part of a group of kids that had no hang ups. The thick diaper seemed more of a comfort than something to stop me leaving a trail of pee around the school and I wondered if it was the same for the rest of the E4ers?

How come Doctor Susan treated me differently? I mean I was wearing the ‘nursery’ outfit but I didn’t feel like a little kid with her and she hadn’t treated me as such either. And then, after last night’s chat with dad, things seemed different again... and I wanted more of it. So, it made sense to abandon my thoughts of freedom with a return to my old stomping ground and accept what is on offer here.

As I soaped my privates, determined to make sure any remnants of pee were flushed down the plughole, I began to think about ways to get back to my original class. Although in some ways I was enjoying playing the silly little kid with the rest in the nursery, it was time to take responsibility for getting into this situation in the first place.

#

As I arrived back at my bedroom still drying my hair I noticed everything laid out and ready for another day in E4. The diaper was mainly blue with yellow edging and blue diaper-grips to hold it in place. The plastic pants appeared a bit thicker than the usual vinyl ones and looked glossier with a blue waistband and yellow leg cuffs. I had to hand it to whoever was in charge of the purchasing department at TYME Diaper Services was doing a fantastic job.  Mom wasn’t there but I could hear her getting Josh ready in his room so wondered if she expected me to start by myself.

“Mom, mom, do you want me to get myself ready?” I called.

She appeared round the door with my little brother looking as smart and happy as usual in his little blue and yellow uniform.

“You don’t have to shout love I was just down the hall.”

“No, sorry.” Josh came over and looked at all my babyish stuff laid out and touched the plastic pants.

“Mommy, do I ‘ave some wike wese?” He looked up at her eagerly.

“Sweetheart, you have plenty of lovely plastic covers.”

“But wese are nice...”

“Well, perhaps the next delivery will bring some for you... we can always ask can’t we?”

“Yeaaaaa,” he squealed and ran off to get breakfast.

“Well there’s a fan of your latest uniform.” She smiled and indicated for me to lie out as she removed the towel I was clutching and reached for the anti-rash cream.

“You know, they had these specially made for you... you being a bit larger than the usual E4 intake.” Mom was admiring the pristine look and shiny newness of the pants. “Yes, these are very nice...  so soft and... well... I hope you appreciate them.”

Once I was all kitted out and the onesie had been fastened under my crotch I had to agree that, although this was all very juvenile, it did feel particularly comfy to wear.  And I had to agree with Josh, the plastic pants were tight and held me in such a way as to feel like I was in a permanent hug.

#

Once at the nursery I apologised to all the staff for my bad behaviour and who I’d been rude to. Despite never wanting to see him again I sought out the Prefect and apologised for swearing. He seemed surprised to see me but offered his hand to shake, which surprised me.

He ruffled my hair, which in the past would have angrily set me off, but this time he smiled and said that it takes a big man to admit when he’s wrong. It was nice because as I walked away it seemed like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders and felt really positive about myself.

Later in the afternoon, when I got home from the nursery I asked Mimi what I could do to let everyone know I was sorry.

She asked me what I was ‘Sorry’ for.

So I listed all the things I could remember since I got here that were not very nice.

At the end of it she simply said “Thank you James, your apology has been recorded.”

I was pleased to note that some of Mimi’s parental controls were also lifted and could slowly begin to access certain things like TV programmes and games I’d been restricted from before.

#

However, for the next ten days, when it was a school day, the onesie became my daily uniform. The nursery was my place of education and though I resented it at times I had to acknowledge that they were teaching me a lesson. Not only that but I had to admit that I grew to like my uniform simply because it was so comfortable. I had absolutely nothing to do except enjoy myself with all the other toddlers... so I did. The fasteners on my onesie made for easy access when it came time for a change and I learned very quickly that being coy or trying to resist a change when I was wet was  stupid. The girls where very efficient and thorough so, despite my age was treated no differently than any of the other little soakers. 

At home and on the weekend I was allowed out of the onesie and back into shorts, which wasn’t a problem as I said most kids my age were also wearing them. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately), my diaper stayed with me because I was still wetting fairly regularly. I couldn’t work out if it was just that I was comfortable doing so or, still had this emotional block about being here. As it was, those who knew about it (most people) said nothing and I was accepting it as something to put up with until my mental barrier lifted.

Mom and dad were encouraging and neither made a point about the wet diapers. I suppose because I was actually more amenable these days and Josh and I had settled into a pretty good relationship. With all that my little brother has had to put up with from me since we’ve been here, he never stopped being positive. Also he never commented on me having to wear a diaper, I suppose it never occurred to him that at my age I should have been past all that. He loved to hug and our mutual padding made that an even nicer experience... or was that just what I thought?

I was allowed to call Boogy my best friend who was in the next apartment to us back where we used to live but he wasn’t there. His mother said he was out with the girl who moved into our old apartment and didn’t see much of the other lads these days. At fourteen, he was the oldest of our little group so I suppose...

Actually, the idea of someone else in our old apartment hit me for six. I mean, I don’t know why but it never occurred to me that someone else would move in AND my best mate would team up with someone who usurped my position.

Apparently, Boogy’s mom didn’t think much of the new neighbours; she thought the girl was a bit ‘loose’ for her age, and the father was a noisy drunk. Anyway, she brought me up to speed on what was happening there though it sounded like I wasn’t missing much and life continued its normal drudge. Strange how I thought I’d be missed but life went on quite well without me.

#

So it’s another Monday morning and I’m looking out of my bedroom window in my usual soaked diaper, plastic pants slightly sagging under the weight but knew mom or dad would be in to check soon. Although the view is the same as when we arrived, it is something I can now appreciate rather than resent. What is also something I can appreciate is that this seaside town has its own micro-climate so we can enjoy both the coast and countryside most of the time. After school I’m socialising a lot more but have yet to experience a change in season though my new friends say winters are very mild.

Unfortunately for me, since we arrived in TYME I’d developed this wetting problem and though we all hoped it would disappear it hasn’t. However, my attitude to the town has changed and so the family tension is no longer there, which I’m told is a relief to everyone.

“Morning love, sleep well?” Mom always starts the day with this simple question and although I’m wearing a droopy night time diaper can’t complain because these days I sleep very well indeed.

“Let’s get you out of that and you into the shower shall we... and Jamie... don’t dawdle we’re running a little late.”

So, once she’d released me from my nightly ‘baggage’ I nip to the bathroom and take a quick shower. As always, on my return the old diaper has vanished but she’s waiting. However, there’s a change, for the first time in a while, I can see that I’m being restored to the uniform of an A5 student. I’d never been so happy to see that I’d be wearing shorts and not the babyish (though very comforting) onesie.

“Yes love, it’s back to proper school from now on. The Academy has decided that your improvement warrants giving you a second chance and hopes that they are proved correct in this verdict. I have every confidence in you James...” she left the rest unsaid but I got the inference... ‘don’t mess up.’

It was very unlikely because since that day at the beach I’d made friends so after school had a group of lads my age I could pal around with. They all knew about my wetting because mom said I should be open about it and if I wasn’t embarrassed by it then no one could say anything. The other reason for telling everyone was because the bulge under my shorts had become more permanent and was pretty obvious so would have been pretty stupid to try and deny its existence. Even though it was a little embarrassing I took mom’s words and did just that and was surprised to find to be offered friendship and support from a group of kids who back home would have bullied me mercilessly.

TYME really was different from anywhere else.  

#

I’m going through a bit of a crisis at the moment. Josh is all but potty trained and doesn’t wear diapers except at night. Even then, he appears to have learnt to control his little bladder and has woken up more often than not to a dry diaper; I on the other hand have not.

It appears that Doctor Susan was wrong about me losing the need for them once I accepted that TYME was an okay place to be. I can’t say I was getting any worse because I’m already peeing without knowing and filling my much needed padding regularly. Thankfully, they didn’t regard this as an indication I should return to E4.

Another trip to the doctor’s and another set of tests but the diagnosis - I was 100% healthy physically but there was still obviously some kind of psychosomatic block. I kept telling everyone who asked that I was now happy and content living in TYME and didn’t know why I was still wetting so much. What I didn’t tell them, because I wasn’t sure how it would be interpreted, I liked wearing the special thick and comforting diapers.

You’d think after these last few months of having to wear them I’d have been more than keen to be rid, instead I was worried about losing their padded cuddle. Since mom put me in them when we first arrived, and although I didn’t want them, the fact that I had to wear them and they helped in not waking up to a soaked bed, I came to rely on their cushiony presence.

Perhaps perversely, having to wear a diaper since arriving here had more effect on me than I knew. I don’t know if it was a subconscious thing but had the thick diaper become the only thing I found comfort in? Had my diaper become a substitute for Boogy, Sam, Tess, Adele, Smiffy, Amin and the others without knowing it? I was really attached to its continuing comforting company.

Because this didn’t make sense I didn’t tell anyone about this particular emotion so my diapers stay because I do still unintentionally wet my padding. I suppose the rest of the family just regard me as incontinent, which may, in time (if you’ll pardon the pun) pass.

Something else that crossed my mind was, if I’d been a toddler and brought up wearing these particularly comfy, soft and thick diapers, would I have ever wanted to be potty trained? I’m not sure I would but Josh is keen to be a big boy so I suppose they haven’t affected him like they have me.

I’ve even got to appreciate the town’s colour scheme and the yellow, or blue, or white thick diapers that cuddle my groin are simply an absolute pleasure to wear, although, you’re not going to find ‘pink’ anywhere in their colour palate.  I’m not sure if there are any other kids that have learned to love them as I do but who knows, I might meet others who share that interests.

I know I’m almost twelve so tell mom and dad as seriously as possible that I’ll be glad when I don’t need them any longer. Nevertheless, as you can surmise... I hope I’m not made to give them up any time soon.

Thankfully, Mimi, nor anyone else for that matter, has pushed for that so, I suppose – TYME really is on my side.

#### The End ####

[TYME is on your side 1-7]

Hi Guys

Well the final part is just about ready so, I'll check it a couple more times and it should be here midweek at the latest. 😬

[TYME is on your side 1-7]

Part 6

It had been a terrible day and as I lay in bed I just couldn’t get to sleep because my mind was turning over every aspect of it. Mom, the school and even I had quite a lot to say and I needed to digest all of it.

As I was mulling things over I felt my diaper warming and wondered why, when wide awake, I’d just peed myself. This was fast becoming even more of a problem I couldn’t fathom but knew I hated the fact I was in soaked padding.

I looked at the clock and it was 22:05 and thought I’d try and do something I hadn’t yet tried and that was get to the bathroom and change myself. I got there as quietly as I could, stripped down and chucked the soaked material in the bin and was just about to clean up when dad came in.

“Ah, Jamie, thought I heard movement...”

I guiltily looked at him but wasn’t sure of my next move so grabbed a towel and tried to hide my privates.

“Another wet diaper?” He queried but seeing the evidence hanging precariously on the edge of the bin there was no point in denying it.

I nodded.

“Your mom thinks you’re doing it on purpose... are you?”

“NO,” I said with more force than I expected.

Dad just put up his palm as if to say he understood so need not get upset about the suggestion.

“Look son,” his voice was calm and measured, “your mother’s hard on you because you haven’t given this place a chance.”

I looked down at my feet and wriggled my toes because it was true I hadn’t because I didn’t want to.

He lifted my chin to look directly into his eyes.

“I, no, we both understand it’s been quite a wrench for you... and we understand your resentment,” he tipped his head to one side... it was an odd way of showing he was being both a friend and a dad, “to an extent.” He then frowned but continued.

“However, you are eleven years old and as such we, your parents, make all the decision on your behalf.” He paused a moment, “We know the trauma of leaving a place you’ve known all your life can be a scary experience and that was one of the reasons we were so pleased to move here. The crime rate is low, the education system is high, the job prospects for both mom and me were completely out of our reach back home... this was to be our new start. A place where we’d be able to bring up you and Josh and give you the benefits you wouldn’t have had had we stayed where we were.”

He saw that I was shaking because I was on the verge of tears again.

“Jamie,” he pulled me in for a hug and my towel fell away, he patted my bare bum as he tried to comfort my distress. I wriggled thinking about the way I’d been spanked and he must have caught that movement. “Oh yes, the spanking.”

Now my tears did fall as I wondered, with my bare bum being available if I was about to receive the same thing again.

“That did not go as planned,” he confessed. “We forgot that we had already given permission for that to happen but hoped that the threat alone would keep you in check. Alas, you pushed too many wrong buttons and the Prefect responded to that consent.” He looked up at me with sorrowful eyes. “Sorry, but that wasn’t supposed to actually happen... and it’s to your mom and my shame that it did. It won’t happen again.”

He grabbed a fresh diaper from off the shelf and fluffed it out (they were very soft even if they were in company colours), fed it between my legs and fastened me tightly in then guided me back to bed.

This was a little strange because he didn’t make me wear any plastic pants and I was just too astonished about what he’d said to comment but, like everyone does after every change, he patted my bottom in a very caring way.

“Jamie, you have to know that we love you and everything we’ve done is for the benefit of us all.  There was nothing left for us back at the old place, the work was about to dry up and your mates and you were heading in the wrong direction. TYME offered us a new start and if we hadn’t grabbed it we would’ve been doing you and Josh a great dis-service.”

He tucked me in and kissed my forehead... it was nice. The fact that I’d been battling with dad had taken its toll because I really missed things as they used to be between us. Even the soft fluffy diaper felt weirdly nice. I was totally relaxed... oh hell I was enjoying this attention.

“Jamie, your school is in charge of what happens there and for the moment I think they are giving you a lesson in accountability; act a certain way, and you’ll be treated in that way. It’s up to you how you change that judgement.”

I think I understood what he was saying and felt a lot better, despite what he’d said about the spanking, that I’d be in E4 until they saw improvement in my attitude. They all knew I wasn’t a little kid but, if I was going to act like one, then they thought it only fair on me, to treat me as one. Well, at least that’s what I got from our conversation. The spanking – well no toddler would have been put through that but I’d chipped away at the bounds just a little too much.

However, the other thing I got was that there would be no more spanking, although I did wonder if that could be repealed at any time, it was good to know. At that moment I wriggled happily in the delicate comfort of my diaper.

#

The chat with dad was nice. I mean, for the first time since we arrived here it was like being back home. Dad rarely raised his voice and the stroking of my hair and tucking me in was really... well... I hate to say it but as it used to be. It was like being back in our old apartment and I liked that... could it be the same here?

I still wasn’t sure about mom but at least slept pretty well for the rest of the night and surprise-surprise, woke up dry. Mom came in carrying a few items just as I’d planted my feet on the floor.  I looked up at her and noticed that the hard features I’d been subjected to last night had softened somewhat.

“Morning love,” yes definitely softened, “how did you sleep, OK, hmmm?”

“Fine thanks... and I’m dry.” I said rubbing the front of my still soft diaper. Now this was something a little strange because, the mornings I’ve woken up wet the plastic pants held the fabric but it was still pretty icky. Now, it suddenly occurred to me that since I’d been put into one by mom, I may well have resented it but I’d never really kicked up a rumpus about having to wear it. Weird or what?

“Well that’s wonderful love, why not get washed and I’ll be in to get you ready for school.”

I resigned myself to still having to wear an E4 diaper but also added something that dad and I talked about last night.

“I don’t wet on purpose... I don’t know why it’s happening but it is getting worse... but honestly mom, I’m not doing it on purpose.” I thought I’d better make sure mom knew I wasn’t doing it intentionally by making sure she knew of that fact. I wondered if I should repeat myself again.

“OK, OK,” she held up her hands as if in surrender. “I believe you and I have to say Mimi was worried and wanted me to take you to the doctors for a check-up. We’ll be going after school today.”

“What do you mean Mimi was worried?” I didn’t understand.

“Well, we feed all our daily data into Mimi’s computer banks and it’s collated, put through various personal algorithms and, well, erm, and it came back, and has done a couple of times now, that this can’t be right for an otherwise healthy eleven year old boy.”

I looked at her wondering what else she’d fed into the computer but mom was looking guilty.

“Yes, well, I kept telling Mimi that I was sure it was down to the trauma of leaving, hormones... or... you were doing it on purpose to make a point.” She confessed.

“What!”

“I kept saying you’d be over it soon when you saw that peeing the bed made no difference to us leaving here. Nonetheless, Mimi thought, despite my insisting on the latter being the case, I should take you to a doctor.” She shrugged guiltily.

“MOM!”

She looked a little flustered.

“You can’t tell me I got all that wrong. You have been acting up in the hope we might change our minds and as we got more and more entrenched, I thought you were doing the same by... turning up the waterworks and using your padding.”

“MOM!”

“Sorry love, but that’s the way it seemed to me but, after your chat with dad last night we’ve talked about it and our conclusion is... to see if Mimi is correct and I should give you the benefit of the doubt.” She took a deep breath. “Look, you’ve been a little sod, erm, so excuse me if I got it wrong.” She fluffed out a fresh TYME compliant yellow diaper, checked the new pale yellow cartoon plastic pants and unfolded the school yellow onesie. “However, you still have school first so... off you go, get cleaned up and then I’ll get you ready for nursery.”

I pointed at the onesie. “Mom, can’t we change that?”

“Not today but a lot will depend on what the doctor says... but for now...” and she waggled the fresh diaper in the air, “Mimi has decided E4 is the place for you.”

#

Mom and dad, the deputies, the teachers, Miss Sylvia and now Mimi (an inanimate blue box) have all made it perfectly clear that it is my inflexibility, rudeness and foul mouth that has led me to be sentenced to E4... the nursery. Personally, I didn’t understand how being angry and foul-mouthed is regarded as being childish, to me  it is the complete opposite but I suppose the wet diaper might have some baring on that decision. However, TYME, or Mimi or whatever algorithm is in charge means my school uniform is whatever the kids in E4 are wearing because that’s where I’ll be spending my days for now.

As I stood under the shower I recapped on what mom and dad had said. Everything is fed into Mimi so if I wanted things to change, I’d have to make sure what was fed into it/her/it (or whatever) next had to be something in my favour. After the success with being a monkey and entertaining not only Josh with my fun antics, would I be able to use that to my advantage? Perhaps I’d been going at this all wrong, and although it was against my better judgement, maybe I should be the sweetest ‘toddler’ in E4?

I could try it at least. However there were other things going on in my head like – where were all the others like me who had a problem with this kind of authority? I was the only boy my age in E4, surely they must be others? Despite the shower’s warmth a sudden cold shiver ran up my spine and I had a very definite image in my head of an operating room where row after row of young people were undergoing surgery and getting implants in their brain to ‘change their ways’.

This sudden vision shocked me so much that I let loose a stream of pee. Thankfully I was in the right place for it not to matter but I was quite jolted by such a thought. Surely E10 wouldn’t be that blatant?

So, when I returned to the bedroom and mom was there waiting to get me sorted with all the oils, powder and a thick fleecy diaper, I didn’t create I simply said “Thanks Mom” and let her get on with organising my uniform for the day. E4 was a better option than E10 that was for sure. With diapers - mine, Josh’s and everyone else who still wore one – being washed and replaced by TYME Diaper Services I had to admit they did a great job in making sure they were ultra-soft to wear. Maybe that’s why I hadn’t argued too much about having to wear one because, apart from the bulk, they felt OK.

I might have looked stupid for an eleven year old still in diapers but I had a plan so everyone else could SUCK IT.

The only thing that pulled me up was the sight of my little brother Josh in his blue school shorts. How I wished I had a pair to cover the obvious bulge that the onesie did a poor job of concealing.

“Mom, could I not wear shorts until we get to school?”

She looked at me as if to say... ‘Now you’re asking to wear shorts?’ but instead said that the supervisor on the bus would be scanning my badge and what I wore and where I should be was already in the system, so, sorry but no change. 

That was the next thing to pull me up. It never occurred to me that I’d have to travel on the school bus dressed as I was. This was all too much but I had to stay strong to make sure my plan worked.

“OK, never mind.” I can’t believe those ‘understanding’ words came out of my mouth, and to be honest, ‘the plan’ hadn’t exactly jumped into my head yet.

#

I was beginning to think that TYME had its own climate because since we’d been here there hadn’t been one grotty day. As Josh and I clambered aboard the bus a new, different younger bus Deputy/Prefect (or whatever their title was) scanned us both and we made our way to a couple of empty seats. I was expecting a roar of offensive comments from the rest of the passengers about what I was wearing but the bus seemed to respect I was dressed this way for a reason and no one said a thing or even sniggered at my appearance. Some looked and smiled but it wasn’t a mocking smile just one of acknowledgement. They were all deep in their own conversations and interests and I appeared not to be one of them. I couldn’t believe it, at my old school the ridicule would have lasted a lifetime. Mmmm!

Although, we sat and chatted together, Joshy had a friend on the bus he kept turning round to talk to. The little lad asked if I liked to wear a onesie but said it in such a way that despite my initial worry about this whole ‘kids uniform thing’ I didn’t get mad because he said he wished he could wear one to school. He was dressed just like Josh so that meant blue shorts over his diaper, if in fact he was wearing one, which I suspected he was.

Another thought struck me – was the reason no one said anything down to manners or just that I was so well-known to the townsfolk that they all knew my history and why exactly I was wearing this juvenile outfit? Those little tags on our shirts certainly contained all our info so it wasn’t a silly notion. However, by the time the bus arrived at the Academy I was able to shrug off my suspicions because there was absolutely nothing I could do whatever the reason.

Once we’d all disembarked and I’d been shuffled over to my E4 line I was greeted by Miss Tracy who together with all the other ‘teachers’ welcomed our noisy little group with big hugs and huge smiles.

“We’re really happy to see our little monkey again today,” she beamed as once again my badge was scanned, “we’ve got some lovely games for our wonderful E4ers to enjoy... yeahhhh.”

I joined in “Yeahhhhhhhhh” I could play along.

She patted my padded bum and I’m sure it was to check whether I needed a change yet but thankfully the bus journey had turned out to be totally un-traumatic, so I was OK.

#

The day passed off just like the bus journey, un-traumatically. I was the life and soul of our little group and kept everyone entertained even receiving a gold star, which Miss Tracy stuck on to the front of my onesie. I didn’t make a fuss when I was led to the changing area and my diaper was changed because once again, I’d wet it without realising. Still it was all praise from the girl (I think it was Miss Helen) as she wiped me down and affixed a different, yet thicker blue and yellow diaper in place before slipping up a fresh pair of plastic pants and refastening the onesie.

I know I should have been mortified being changed by a girl not that much older than me but realised that's what they wanted me to feel. If I wanted to get out of E4 then had to play the game. So, I thanked her and rushed off to join the others. Strangely, because I was playing a part I could actually enjoy myself. I’d had plenty of practice playing silly games with a little brother so was able to adapt to my fellow E4ers and the time simply flew by. It was a bit of a surprise how quickly time past and parents came to pick up their little ones but this time I didn’t care or try to hide myself away. I carried on ‘chatting’ with my new found ‘playmates’ even when their mom or dad was around. I got plenty of hugs and bye-bye waves from the kids as they left and a huge cuddle from Josh when he came to join me.

Mom arrived shortly after, and once she’d received a report from Miss Sylvia smiled her encouragement for us both to accompany her... I’d forgotten we had to visit the doctor.

 “A gold star eh?” Mom looked proudly at my badge.

“Oh yer, I organised a little game everyone enjoyed.” I reached to pull it off my onesie.

“Oh Jamie, don’t just pull it off, it’s a good thing to wear with pride... I bet your brother’s impressed?” She looked at Josh who was tracing his finger across its golden points. “Yes, a very good sign.” Mom mumbled under her breath as we began to meander from the building.

I felt good but wasn’t sure if it was because I was proud or that I was fooling everyone.

“OK sweethearts,” she hugged both of us, “a trip to the doctors for a quick check-up and then we’re meeting dad down on the beach for a bit of a treat.”

#

The doctor’s office was nothing like our old one, there it was all cramped and you had to wait ages but this, your name was on the board as you arrived, as was the doctor and room you’d be seen in, so no long queues or groups of sick people sitting around coughing.

My doctor was Dr Sandra Sulliman and we had precisely two minutes to wait. Meanwhile, a brief scan of the place showed it was clean, efficient and well run. Even the nurses looked professional in their pale blue scrubs and smiling faces. It was a very welcoming place and whereas Josh had been scared of going to see our old doctor, here he seemed at ease, especially when one of the nurses asked if he wanted to play with some toys in the kid’s room. She looked at me and smiled, “You can go too if you like... I think that gold star gives you a VIP pass.”

I wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or a subtle put down but at that moment Dr Sulliman’s door opened and we were greeted with an encouraging smile and invited in. Josh had disappeared off with the nurse to the play area so I guess it was just me having the check-up.

She introduced herself as Doctor Susan and obviously knew all about me but after the initial ‘Hello’s’ spoke to me and not mom about my problem. This wasn’t what I expected, I thought, because of the way I was dressed that she’d treat me as a little kid but it wasn’t the case. Even mom seemed taken aback by the way the conversation was going but she took her cue from the doctor and let me speak.

“Well James, it seems that since you’ve arrived here at TYME you’ve been having trouble with your waterworks... is that how you see it?”

“Erm, um, eeerrrrrmmm,” This was not my finest hour.

Mom piped up that was the case but the doctor asked if she’d let James speak... she used my name and not Jamie, which I was quite impressed by. Mom raised her hands as if she was only trying to help and the doctor thanked her but she was conducting this examination and it would be done her way. I sort of liked my new doctor.

#

Throughout our conversation she never once talked down to me. She even apologised for asking me to strip down to my diaper so she could examine my body but said that she’d be as quick as possible to avoid too much embarrassment. She was as good as her word.

The exam was mainly done by moving pads around my body which she said were taking readings as they scanned for any ‘peculiarities’, all of which were then being fed into the main frame diagnostic computer and we’d have the read outs almost immediately. I wasn’t asked to give a urine sample as somehow she already had that information stacked in my file. I wondered if they used my discarded wet diapers to check, which strangely made sense.

“And finally James, we need to take a small sample of your blood... so, if you could follow Nurse Jelly, she’ll draw that whilst I have a quick word with your mom and then we should be done.”

I stood up to follow the nurse and suddenly felt myself filling my diaper. “Oh mom...” I cried in frustration and embarrassment.

Doctor Susan tried to placate my total humiliation. “Don’t worry James that can often happen when visiting a doctor... for some it can be a very nerve wracking experience. The nurse will see to that as well and I’ll speak to you in a little while OK... nothing to worry about.”

With legs apart I waddled after the nurse to another room where she sat me down, suggested she took the blood first and then change my diaper. I was far too embarrassed to argue and just let her do her job. She was sweet and encouraging and didn’t once say that it was ridiculous an eleven year old boy should still be in diapers and using them. I was grateful for the care she took in drawing blood because I hardly noticed. After the sweet way she cleaned me up, powdered me down and fitted a fresh clean (though quite thick) diaper, fresh pair of plastic pants and helped me back into my onesie, I was more grateful than embarrassed... and the dry fresh diaper felt great hugging my not so very private privates.

Thankfully, I didn’t receive a second gold star as that would have been just too much.

#

Despite the fact that I was back wearing a diaper this was the first time I felt I’d been treated fairly. There was no talking down or ordering me to do something, I was simply asked and I did it voluntarily. I was led back to the doctor’s office where they were looking at some results on screen.

“Ah there you are James, all done?” She looked me up and down and smiled that encouraging smile again. “Now then,” she called me over to see the screen better, “these are the results of today’s examination as well as your health and civic reports since you arrived in town.”

“Civic?” I queried.

“Yes James, firstly, you’re very healthy and I can see no cause for alarm.” She paused for that to sink in and then continued, “Here in TYME we continually check on our entire population’s health. By using the finest medical, psychological and social data we can build a proper insight into each and every person who lives here. We see how each of us is different but that in some ways we’re all the same and by being able to assess such a diverse range of personalities, can make better decision for everyone.”

She was saying it as if I should be impressed. I could see mom was and had that look of someone who approved of it all. I didn’t I thought it was invasive.

“So you know everything?” I felt an argument coming on which I just knew mom wouldn’t want to hear. She was about to admonish me for daring to say such a thing but the doctor intervened before she could.

“I see what you’re getting at James. You think this is too intrusive and is invading your privacy and possibly your personality and trying to make you something you’re not?”

She got it in one. I nodded, much to mom’s annoyance.

#

“Well James, I see your point, and I’m sure there have been many people here who have wondered about the same thing.” I could see she was thinking and then that smile again, “However, it’s not normally eleven year olds that have such thoughts.”

Was she having a go or actually surprised at my reasoning?

“Are they sent to E10?” I ventured and still seeing in my minds-eye that huge and busy surgery.

She looked at me and then across at mom. “Mmmm, I’ll let you into a little secret.” She lent closer into me. “There’s no such place as E10.”

“WHAT?”

“No, it’s just a ruse to hopefully get people to comply.”

“Comply, that sounds...”

“Yes, it does sound a bit authoritarian doesn’t it? Let me explain it this way. TYME was, and is, set up as an experimental town. The motto - TYME is on your side – isn’t meant as just a cute phrase (I’d heard this before) it really does try to make things better for everyone... and the reason there is no E10 is because everyone is of the same opinion – and that is, TYME is right for them.”

No E10, what? Are they trying to backtrack? Is this place just playing mind games?

I saw mom shuffle nervously in her seat. “I’ve tried to explain this to him doctor but he just isn’t interested.”

She looked at mom, “No he doesn’t want to fit in because he feels he’s been betrayed by you and your husband.”

I wasn’t expecting this attack on mom but she’d hit the nail on the head.

Mom also wasn’t expecting this either. “We wanted what’s best for the family...” she was almost in tears and I knew it was because my attitude continued to pain her.

Doctor Susan reached out and touched mom’s arm, “And you found the ideal place but we still have one very unhappy guy here. James still sees this move as cruel and undeserved. Is that correct James?”

I was overawed by the way this doctor’s appointment was going. Not only that but I was impressed that she was taking time out to see things my way.

Meanwhile, mom added her bit to the conversation. “But he’s eleven; we have to make choices for all the family’s benefit not just his.”

“Indeed you do AND that brings me back to you James.” She looked me in the eye and asked outright if I enjoyed wetting my diapers.

“No, no, NOOO.” I couldn’t emphasise this enough. However, at the same time my palm automatically stroked the bulge in the front of my onesie and it felt more of a comfort than an intrusion.

#

She pointed to a red graph on the monitor we’d been looking at.

“This tells me that you have a psychosomatic block...”

“You mean I’m stupid?”

“No one thinks you’re stupid and although you’re wearing the E4 nursery outfit it’s not because anyone thinks that’s the case. That is to make a visual point about the way you behave... that you’re being treated no differently than any toddler because you act like one.”

Ouch! I wanted to point out I wasn’t a toddler but it seemed a stupid thing to say. She said there was no E10 but I could still see the place in my head and that was pretty scary.

“No, it’s an emotional block,” she continued, “one that only you can deal with. We are here if you need help but all we can do is point out the benefits of the town and hope you can see them for yourself.”

“I’ve told him all this.” Mom was trying to make sure that she hadn’t been kidding me or missing out on my ‘TYME education’. “He just doesn’t want to be part of all this...as wonderful as it is.”

The doctor looked at me. “It’s difficult, but you need to know something. You are very unlikely to get over wetting your diapers unless you can get over not wanting to be here.”

I shrugged because somehow I’d had that thought already. Again I found my hand unconsciously reaching down to stroke the padding for reassurance.

“Look James you started to wet yourself when you first arrived here. Your mom put you into diapers on a night to help you over this initial problem but instead of relieving you of the panic or frustration, you’ve been getting worse. So much so that not only do you wet at night but also during the day. You’ve driven yourself to this point and there’s a mental block that equates with you wetting and hating this place. You have to let that hate go.”

I felt guilty, annoyed and wanted to blame mom, dad, TYME for this undeniable truth but all I could do was glow red and feel stupid.

Doctor Susan continued.

“TYME is for you and your family’s good. Your parents have done a great job in seeing this opportunity and seizing it to make all your lives better. You need to start believing in what your parents have been trying to tell you and...”

“But I hate all of this...” I pulled at my onesie, “the uniforms, the badges that tell anyone and everyone about me and...”

“But TYME is built on that style of social inclusion. It keeps track on everyone but it’s for the good of everyone. Because of all the data Mimi collects it means that we can be ahead of the game should a virus be about to sweep into town. We can plan for shortages and medical supplies. We can predict and prevent any problems before they happen and deal with them better if they do. TYME is...”

“I know – on my side?” I said glibly.

“Yes it is, but, you’re not convinced that you can still be... well, you.”

“And my friends aren’t here.”

“Mmmm,” the doctor noted, “we can do nothing about your friends but you have had loads of opportunities to make new ones.”

“But I don’t want to.”

“Well, that’s not strictly true is it?”

“What do you mean?” I wondered if I was being tricked.

“Well, I don’t want to bring too much attention to it but that,” she pointed to my gold star stuck on my onesie, “means more than you think.”

“In what way?”

“It means that’s just what you have done... you’ve made friends and what’s more appeared to enjoy doing so.”

“But that was just a bunch of toddlers.”

“It’s a start James. For perhaps the first time since you’ve been here, today, in E4, you really didn’t think of anything but having fun. In so doing... you made plenty of friends which means, even if you don’t think you like them, they like you.” She smiled a hopeful smile - she had a lot of them to give away. “I think James, if you give it a chance you might find that not only do you make friends easily but that you’ll be out of wearing a diaper pretty soon after as well.”

That jolted my thoughts of escape and screwed up my plan to hitch-hike out of this place because I had to think ‘where would I go’ and realised for the first time I didn’t have any options.

#

Doctor Susan accompanied mom and me to the play area to collect Joshy who was deep in a game with a couple of other toddlers. She spent a bit of time chatting to him and at the same time doing an inconspicuous examination as he played.

Eventually, we said our goodbyes and left the surgery. I had a lot to think about but both mom and Josh were in a very happy and talkative mood.

“Is it beach now mommy?”

“Yes sweetheart,” she checked her watch, “and daddy should already be there...”

“Mommy, can I paddle and build sand castles?”

“Of course, that’s what we’re going for and daddy will have set up lovely picnic... are you two hungry?”

Joshy excitedly squealed “Yeaahhh.” But I was deep in thought. According to the doctor, all this wetting was down to me and the only way to stop it was to accept my parent’s view of TYME.

The other thing was... I had enjoyed making friends and playing with the toddlers so now I had another worry. Could I only make friends with kids Josh’s age?

# tbc #

[TYME is on your side 1-7]

Thanks for all the comments and I have to warn you E10 is not what you might be expecting. 😬

[TYME is on your side 1-7]

Part 5

 

Just after 3pm the main door opened and I saw parents begin to come and collect their children. One or two looked my way and obviously enquired about my presence. Miss Sylvia chatted to them and I saw them nod as if they now understood. I have no idea what was said but suspect, like everything else in this place, my personal information was shared by everyone.

 

I was trying to hide away as I was still only wearing a t-shirt (as distinctive as it was) and thick childish padding but there were few places to completely disappear. I didn’t dare go up to the carers because they were talking with parents and reporting on their kid’s antics so kept as far away as possible. I also didn’t, on the off chance I was asked, want to engage with any of the parents so tried to look like I was busy.

“MONKEEEE,” I heard being shouted across the room and I saw Joshy charging over to greet me. Strangely I was both surprised and pleased to see him as he rushed into my unexpectedly welcoming arms. “Monkee, monkee, monkee...” he excitedly outlined the shape of the image on my shirt.

OK so he wasn’t calling my name but I suppose, under the circumstances, the fewer people knew who I was the better. It was also embarrassing because I was dressed like an incontinent toddler and he was in his blue and yellow school uniform and had blue shorts covering his diaper.

“Yes Josh and what sound do monkeys make?” I grinned and started pretending we were two monkeys playing together.

After a few minutes the nursery had thinned out and there was only a couple of other kids sat on little chairs giggling waiting for a parent whilst Josh and me were being daft as I’d engaged him with more monkey tales.

“Boys,” I recognised the voice immediately and so did Josh as he got up and ran over. “Mommeee.”

I hadn’t even thought about either of us being picked up I just assumed I’d be sent to get dressed at some point and catch the bus home. So this was a surprise.

“Yes sweetie-pie I’ve come to take you and Jamie home... are you ready and have you got everything?”

He went over and grabbed a piece of paper he’d left with one of the carers and ran back to show mom. She said how impressed she was that he’d done such a wonderful painting.

She looked over to me. “Come on you,” and I saw Miss Tracy hand her a bag.

“Erm, I don’t have my uniform...erm...” I tried to reason.

“No matter... Jamie... I’ve brought the car and I’ll be taking you home.”

“But I can’t go like this, what about some shorts or something...”

“Not for you today sweetie...” this was Miss Sylvia intervening, “only what you’re wearing... for now.”

“But, but...” I was trying again not to lose my temper or create a scene as there were still a couple of parents chatting away.

“Jamie, I hope we won’t have to call the Prefect again,” she whispered but despite mom’s look of alarm I’m sure she already knew about that incident.

I saw I was defeated and the quickest way out of this situation was just to get on with it and go with mom and Josh.

“Good boy,” Miss Sylvia said, “Now be good for mommy and daddy and we’ll all look forward to seeing you tomorrow...” She patted my padded bum. “I hope the cream has worked OK.”

Resentfully, I left the room but had to agree the cream and fresh diaper had certainly eased the pain of the vicious attack... one that my parents had sanctioned... but how was I going to get my own back?

#

I didn’t like the fact I was still dressed as a toddler and mom had not protested about it at all. Mind you, she’d been on my case since our move was first spoken of and I’d started my campaign of non-cooperation. At the same time, she started a campaign not to give in to my demands.

Josh was sat in his car seat in the back and I was just about to get in the passenger side when mom indicated I was to get in the back with him. The inference was obvious... I was just a little kid.

There was so much buzzing around in my head I wanted to give voice to - the anger about how this place was and how that prim and proper woman in the front seat had said it was OK for me to be beaten by the enforcers at this school. I was fuming with hardly disguised disgust and vitriol. However, she said nothing just indicated where I should sit and waited for me to do as I was told. It took a moment as we looked at each other, my eyes full of hate, hers of supreme indifference knowing she was totally in charge of the situation.

“Come on Jamie, jump to it, unless you want more people to see your lovely new outfit... and see just what a little monkey you are.” The last bit was delivered with such condescension but I knew that, as we were still on school property, she could call on the services of the Prefect if I didn’t get in the back seat with Josh.

I did.

“There’s a good boy doing what mommy says... you’re learning... and not before time.”

I slammed the door shut but it was hardly the great comeback I wanted.

#

On the way home I was seething with anger and indignation but of course Josh wanted to keep the monkey game going. I didn’t want to play; I thought mom’s response to my situation was at best indifferent but for the moment I’d have to seethe internally.

The way from school to home was normally through town, past shops and the park but this time she drove to the top of the hill where we looked out across the town and bay and out to sea. In the distance were a few boats coming and going with a couple out on the horizon. The sun was shining brightly and despite myself I had to let my attitude drop as it was quite a beautiful scene.

When we first arrived here in TYME and mom and dad were showing us around getting excited about the prospects of living in this ‘paradise’ I couldn’t, and didn’t, share their enthusiasm. Despite the fact that they tried to encourage and cajole me into surrender and accept what had happened I still maintained, in my head at least, that if I fought hard enough they would have to let me return to my friends. Those days, before school was intended to start, were terrible because of me. I’d be planning and plotting my escape though really had no idea how I’d achieve any of it. Still it didn’t stop me making everyone else’s life as wretched as my own.

However, this vantage point was my parent’s favourite spot. We’d all been up here on a few occasions and it’s where mom and dad would hold hands and look out and sigh a happy contented sigh. Dad would pick Josh up point things out to him and he’d excitedly repeat their names as dad said them. Meanwhile, they’d turn to me and I’d be looking miserable and they’d sigh again but not in the same way and we’d return home. It was at these times when I thought I’d scored a little victory.

Mom was talking to Josh about the boats and promised him that soon, if the weather was fine, that we’d all go out on a pleasure boat trip. He got all excited and grabbed my hand whilst jumping up and down. Despite myself, his enthusiasm was catching and I excitedly jumped up and down with him. Mom looked surprised that at least something had changed in my demeanour. Unexpectedly, even away from school; I was interacting with my little brother. I suddenly caught myself and quickly calmed down not realising that my day of play with all those toddlers had had an effect.

This was stupid. I wanted mom to know how angry I was but daren’t let it all out in case of reprisals and the dreaded move to E10 – I had no idea what that entailed but didn’t want to chance it. Mom seemed content that I was now wearing little more than a diaper and plastic pants and, as I’d been doing so for the best part of the day, I’d somehow got used to it. Well, not used to it but, well you know what I mean...?

Wearing a diaper because I’d pissed or shit myself at various points in the day had been a hit to my confidence. To get me to this compliant stage various little (and not so little) events had been sneakily deployed to sap that self-confidence. I simply hadn’t predicted this was how my actions would end up and now, well, I had no choice. I had somehow steered myself into my current outfit. The fact that I was already wetting my night time diaper had made it so much easier for them to arrange things and get me to comply “... let’s get you all cleaned up and into something dry shall we?”.

All very sneaky.

#

No one at school mentioned it, of course some looked and from some kids there were smiles but oddly, for a school its size, not one jeer or delivered ‘clever’ put down. I didn’t know if it was because everyone knew what had happened and were in complete agreement with what had gone on, or, they were just too polite to comment. To me everything about TYME was weird but the general consensus about the place was of joy and happiness... with everyone apart from me very content with what the town offered.

As we drove home I began to remember thinking how weird that was. I mean there wasn’t a piece of rubbish on the streets, huge areas of white walls were left unblemished (or artistically reinterpreted) by graffiti. Nothing was out of place or rundown and most people seemed to be enjoying their jobs and where they lived. The shops were full and bustling with people, I didn’t see one little bit of dissension anywhere, which I found weird. Where was the teenage rebellion, the loners, the... the... the... well they were either nowhere to be seen (E10?) or simply didn’t exist. 

However bizarre I thought that was, I suddenly realised that the warming at the front of my diaper meant, without warning, I was wetting myself again. This shifted what anger I had towards mom, to trying to keep it a secret so I went very quiet and guilt ridden except for the occasional encouraging word to Josh.

As we got out of the car at home mom asked Josh if he was wet. He nodded and she simply looked at me and said without asking. “OK boys, let’s get you both changed and then I’ll start making us a nice meal for when daddy comes home.”

“Yea,” Josh beamed and ran through the open front door and straight up to his room.

“I think you’d better join him.” Mom’s look was another one of those ‘don’t test me’ challenges so I wandered up after him.

#

When I got to Josh’s bedroom he was already pulling off his shorts and at the same time reaching for one of his cartoon pull-ups.

“I can do it mommy...” he said as he tried to take his full diaper off but was having trouble with the fasteners.

“I’m sure you can sweetheart but let me help with those tricky things first and then...”

“But mommy I’m a big boy I can...” but he was still struggling with it so in the end let her pull it apart for him. Once that was free he tried to step into the pull-up but mom told him to wipe himself first. It was a very cursory dab down so she grabbed the cloth and wiped him down better. He didn’t say anything as she then dried him off with a towel before a sprinkling of powder.

“OK, I’ll leave the rest to you while I get your older brother’s diaper ready.” She said older in such a way there was no doubt about her dismay at the level to which the eldest had sunk. “But he needs...”

“Mom I don’t need anything... and why am I still dressed like this?” There was more bravado in my voice than intensity because I really had no idea in which direction any argument from me would go.

“OK love,” she was watching Josh as he completed putting on his own pull-up and shorts, “what a clever boy you can go down and watch TV now.”

Once he’d gone she turned to me

I was about to find out just the direction of thoughts and deeds... and I didn’t like it.

#

“So,” she said with what I took as quite a long-suffering look, “you think you’re old enough to sort out your own diaper do you?”

I should have known this wasn’t a good move on my part but I’d started and the rebel in me wanted to be heard.

“I don’t need a fucking diaper,” which was really stupid thing to say as I was standing in front of her in a sagging wet diaper held in place by a rather juvenile pair of vinyl pants.

I saw her eyes flare with anger at the swear word and it made me swallow hard even though I had nothing to swallow. Then her eyes flicked to the silky bulge that my freshly engorged diaper now presented to her but still I needed to try and speak...

“I shouldn’t be put in this situation and, AAAAND, it shouldn’t be allowed that one of these ‘so called Prefects’ can beat me up whenever they want.”

She looked into my eyes and I could see her debating whether to say something or let me continue. There was an awful lot going on in her features and it troubled me enough to stop talking right away.

Her stare made me wonder if she was about to take a swing but instead she used her calm but creepy voice to berate me.

“Right, first things first – you wear a diaper because you need one.” I was about to complain but she beat me to it. “You’ve been changed several times today already and just look at you now... an eleven year old and still pissing your pants.”

I’d not heard her use such a swear word before, she was always careful about any bad language around Josh. However, her synopsis of my day was not inaccurate and I was only glad she didn’t...

“And, since you arrived at school this morning I’ve had reports back, which aren’t very encouraging, on any level. You have been disrespectful, foul mouthed and generally been a pain to everyone who has tried to help you.”

I wanted to say all kind of things in denial but... she obviously knew everything that happened.

“That is... until you were sent to E4... and it appears there you eventually found your level.”

“Yes and that’s where I was severely beaten by that fucking lunatic who, on your say so...” but I only thought that I didn’t say it because I knew where this conversation was leading.

All the way through this time in Josh’s bedroom she’d been holding the bag given to her by Miss Sylvia, or Tracy, well someone in E4 and she was emptying it onto the bed.

I saw that it was a school yellow, blue and white t-shirt and thought it was part of my school uniform but mom said.

“This is now going to be your new school uniform. Your teachers, the carers, the entire school authority and your father and I all agree that you need more time in E4. It’s the place where those who, for one reason or another, don’t quite understand...” she shrugged as if resigned to this awful truth, “are encouraged in other ways to play and have fun whilst they learn the basics.”

She held up the t-shirt but it was obvious from the two flaps and row of little metal studs that it was a onesie not unlike the one I’d been wearing earlier in the day.

“I’m not going to school ever again so that,” I said pointing at the offending piece of fabric, “can go back to where it came from.”

“The thing is Jamie...”

“James.” I insisted.

“The thing is Jamie that you no longer have a say in, well, anything. Your attitude will not be tolerated either here at home or in school. And, just so you know it, and to your father’s and my total embarrassment, the Prefect you speak of will be on duty to discipline you for any transgression of the new rules by which you will, for the foreseeable future, live by.”

That took the wind out of my belligerent sails because I was horror-struck by what that meant.

“You probably don’t know it but you’re the only person in the history of TYME that has needed spanking...” She thought that would shame me and I suppose in some ways it had but this had already been explained to me so I just shrugged, which I saw infuriated her more than a little. “You don’t know what shame is do you?”

She then went on, as she changed my wet diaper and replaced it with an ultra-thick new one, just what those rules were. They were intense, non-negotiable and stripped me of any illusion I might have had of being a ‘rebel’.

I was not going back to our home town because that was now TYME...

I wasn’t allowed to call my friends there because those conversations only made me want to return...

I was to stop whining and start appreciating what opportunities this place offered but, most of all, I had to accept that because of my constant childish self-centred attitude (and constant messing my diaper), I would be regarded as just that... a little toddler who needed guidance... so the thick, thick diaper and onesie was that starting point.

“Your Big Boy, Big Attitude days are over because we will just not put up with it any longer... so... you can get on-board or stay in E4... or maybe E10... for the rest of the time here.

Through this barrage of criticism I tried to hide my tears but I wailed at the hopelessness of my situation. If I didn’t do as I was told then my behind was in for regular thrashings and it was made perfectly clear that I’d only get out of E4 when they detected a sincere change in my attitude. If I didn’t... there was always E10 to consider.

I DIDN’T WANT TO THINK WHAT MIGHT HAPPEN THERE.

# tbc #

[TYME is on your side 1-7]

Hello everyone... glad you're enjoying Jamie's adventure.

I'm not sure if I feel sorry for him or think he's being a bit of a pratt... but it does seem that his situation is slowly beginning to sink in.

However, will his family, especially his mother, compromise or will she insist that E4 is the place best suited to his temperament?

Hugs to each and all... as well as a big THANKS

Les

[TYME is on your side 1-7]

Part 4

Despite what the slogan for the town says... TYME certainly wasn’t on MY side.

As I sat in that kiddie circle only half listening to what I was sure was a story aimed at me I couldn’t get over the fact that a complete stranger had the right to spank me. According to him he’d been given permission by my parents but... how could my parents say that was OK?

I could feel myself welling-up at the injustice of it all, whilst the rawness in my diaper was a fierce reminder of what had just taken place, and which I’d had no defence against. The threat of E10 if I didn’t change my ways had me worrying just how awful such a place might be... and who was there already.

I mean, would it be somewhere I’d want to be, with people like me perhaps who resented being in this fuc... erm... dreadful place? The thing is the impression I got from the Prefect was that it was a place to avoid. So, could it be a place where they made you change your ways with mind altering gizmos or drugs? Imagination was getting the better of me and I hardly heard a word Miss Tracy was saying. However, whatever conclusion I’d come to was so overwhelming I found myself bawling like a two year old and Miss Sylvia had to come and remove me from the group as I’d set a few of the other little ones off.

“What’s the matter sweetie?” Her voice was sugary but sympathetic, “Is your first day at nursery a bit much for you, hmmm?”

I didn’t want to answer but that’s exactly what it was; finding myself reduced to the status of a toddler and having a really sore bottom. I could still feel each and every stinging slap and as much as I tried not to... the tears came in floods. I hated this place but wasn’t allowed to escape.

She tried to cuddle me but instinctively I pulled away. “Now, now sweetie, what you need is a hug from the cuddle fairy... she’ll make you feel as right as can be...”

This is ridiculous. I’m almost twelve but her soothing voice and the fact she was stroking my head felt really comforting. I didn’t want to rest my cheek on her shoulder but I didn’t resist when she pulled me in to a lovely deep cuddle.

“There, there sweetheart... let cuddly Miss Sylvia make everything bet-bet.” I moved ever so slightly away but with absolutely no resistance she pulled me back and continued to hum a soft tune as I calmed down.

Eventually, although still in her soft embrace, I found what I wanted to say.

“That Prefect really hurt, it’s not fair, it’s...”

“Oh sweetie of course, your little bum-bum must be red from being disciplined like that but... that’s what happens to naughty boys who swear and don’t do as they’re told. Still,” she paused as she stroked my padding, “I suppose I could put a little bit of soothing cream on that little tushie of yours... what d’ya say?”

Again I didn’t want to join in with this stupid situation but I dare not fight any more, well certainly not today, and my bottom still felt like it was on fire and that process actually sounded good, so nodded my acquiescence.

“There’s a good boy... come with me sweetie and we’ll have you all tickety-boo in a shake of a lamb’s tail.

She held out her hand and despite myself I reached out and she pulled me to my feet and we walked back to the same place where I’d been changed earlier.

“Right Jamie let’s get you up on the changing table and we can rub in some lovely soothing balm.”

I got up and lay out feeling vulnerable but because I’d been wearing a diaper since I’d arrived in this town... this part, although a little strange, wasn’t too bad.

That’s when it hit.

I’d only been wetting myself since I arrived in this dreadful place so it must be something THEY were doing that was making me wet at night. Of course, why had I not realised this ‘fact’ before and why had I let myself be treated like a toddler. However, my thoughts were disrupted as she started to pull down my plastic pants when suddenly I grabbed them back up and shouted “NO”.

#

Miss Sylvia looked at me in surprise. She was about to continue removing my padding but I’d found my voice.

“You’re all in it together,” I snarled accusingly. “You, mom, dad, this town of sadists...” I wasn’t quite sure what one was but I seemed to remember Boggy telling me it was about people who hurt others for no reason.

I was trying to sit up but she just put her hand on my chest and held me down. Strangely I wanted to fight but that inexplicable knowing scowl on her face made me think twice.

“Oh, has baby found a new word,” she mocked as her other hand reached for my plastic pants. “So,” she said tugging them down, “you think that everyone here in TYME has got together to make your life difficult, hmmm?”

With one quick movement she yanked them off.

“You think that everyone here has nothing better to do than gang up on Little Jamie,” she scoffed but looked determined, “who incidentally, and according to his records and the opinion of his parents, ‘has been acting like a little baby since arriving here’... is that what you think?”

Her patience and goodwill seemed to have evaporated as she pulled at the little plastic clasps on the sides of my diaper and yanked them off leaving me completely naked from the waist down.

“Turn over.” She commanded but I was more than a little terrified as to the way this revelation had gone. “Listen to me Jamie,” I’d been a bit slow in doing as she said so, with more strength than I would have given her credit for, she grabbed an arm and leg and flipped me over onto my belly, “you have been the architect of all that has befallen you and why you are here in the nursery.” I can only assume she was staring at my reddened bum because it didn’t feel she was talking to me. “You are the one who swears and abuses our enforcement officers. You are the one who gives your mother and father a hard time. You are even the one who pees and poos themselves... so Jamie... you see you have no one to blame but you.”

“But spanking me is unfair... I... I...”

“Do you know how many people have been spanked in this school?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “None until YOU”

I looked up at her in surprise.

“Yes, only you because everyone else, and I mean everyone else, from our youngest to the oldest, can appreciate what TYME is creating here.”

I was still astounded and a little wary of these ‘facts’ but she continued.

“It’s not TYME that said you could be spanked it was your parents who thought there may well be no other way of getting through to you so... whenever you swear, are disrespectful or generally unpleasant.... that’s what’s waiting for you.”

I was shocked into silence.

“I suppose they were hoping that the threat was enough but no, you just kept on pushing and pushing and didn’t heed the warning signs. You say you’re eleven but you haven’t learned a thing so... just how dumb are you?”

She reached over to a shelf and sorted through an array of bottles and canisters until she found what she wanted. Without saying anything else she opened the top and palmed a huge dollop of some oily white cream, which was then rubbed into my inflamed bottom.

“We try our best here to make everyone’s experience as nice as we can. TYME is on your side isn’t just a cute slogan... it’s a call to all who want to be treated well and with respect. The fact that you can’t appreciate that simple fact is once again a failing on your part not the towns.”

She gently spread the sweet-scented cream all around and with its coolness there was a lessoning in the sting. Her tone softened.

“The Prefect has made your bot-bot very red so this cream should reduce that ache and once we put another diaper on you’ll feel the benefits.” So the lecture was over and now her main concern was my welfare and inflamed bottom.

I did a little wriggle of annoyance at the idea of being returned to wearing yet more protection but couldn’t complain because she was doing as I’d asked and there was an immediate result to her caring massage.

She asked me to turn over and this time I did so without any mumbling or annoyance and she spread more of the cream over my privates. Miss Sylvia then reached under the table and produced a blue fabric diaper, which she flapped out to reveal it had a yellow and white border. She saw I was about to protest but gave me a withering look so I said nothing.

Once the diaper had been folded into shape she also placed an extra soaker pad in it before slipping it under my bum and fastening it on tightly using two little tri-armed plastic gizmo’s that grabbed onto the material and held everything in place.

“Right Jamie you’re good to go... and I don’t want to hear another word of complaint about you or back-talking to any of the lovely people here... do you understand?” I could see she was serious and I had to admit, even with thicker padding, it felt a lot better.

She waited until I nodded in agreement but I asked for some pants, she said that babies didn’t need pants but if I wanted, she’d find me a nice onesie I could wear. I wasn’t that keen so said nothing and was guided back out to join the rest of the toddler group who were just about to have, as Miss Sylvia said, “their din-dins”

#

Some of the kids were in hi-chairs and some sat around in little groups at small tables. It was a noisy affair but the helpers were feeding those who needed such attention, whilst others were happily trying their best with fingers and spoons. Miss Sylvia guided me to a space at one small table which I thought I was too big to sit at but again, she gave me a look that said “Don’t even start.” So I sat and waited for my meal to arrive.

Like everyone else I had cut up frankfurters, herby mashed potatoes and what looked like mashed beans. There was also a baby’s bottle full of milk and when I touched the glass it felt warm. The thing is, after all I’d been through, and although I was full of resentment about being put with this group of toddlers, my hunger overcame any reticence and I ploughed my spoon into the gloopy mass. It tasted fantastic.  

It was a shame my portion was only as big as the little kids but I appreciated what I had. I certainly didn’t want to drink from the bottle but I noticed both Miss Tracy and Miss Sylvia watching me and making notes on their screens, which looked like they were giving me marks. Although I can’t be sure but that was the feeling I got. I assumed I was being marked for not arguing, eating all my food and who knows what else. It dawned on me that perhaps, the best way to get out of here was to play along and try and amass enough points to be sent back to my real age group. It’s amazing where your thoughts take you when you’ve little option.

“Do you need any help Jamie...” one of the girls pointed to the baby’s bottle of milk.

I knew precisely what would happen if I didn’t pick it up and start to nurse from it. So, I didn’t argue, I didn’t have a meltdown, I simply lifted the bottle, stuck the teat between my lips and started sucking like the rest of those who didn’t have sippy cups.

Yes, why hadn’t I been given a sippy cup? Well, I can only think that it was another test and, as I didn't want a return visit from the Prefect I let myself be humiliated as I hoped no one else would ever know what was happening.

After din-dins, erm, I mean lunch, it was nap time and we were all encouraged to find a little mat, a space on the floor and relax. Of course it wasn’t something I wanted to do and the mats were way too small for me but Miss Tracy called me over and led me off to a little side room where a few of the less able kids were being led into cribs. There was one larger bed and I was led over to it and gently encouraged by her tapping on my padded butt to climb in. I knew this was a huge trial and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be part of it but, Miss Tracy was being very nice telling all the other kids to sleep and wake refreshed for more play time later. I thought I might as well take the opportunity to rest and gather my thoughts because there had been, and continued to be, quite a lot to take in.

It was weird because the anger that I had at the beginning of all this had petered out and now I was simply thinking about how to get out of this silly situation. I’m not sure if it was down to the Prefect’s heavy hand, or the little chat that Miss Sylvia gave me but, the feeling I’d been put in my place and everything had been as a result of my obstinacy had hit home. They’d made it very clear that I was there because of my actions so now I had to find a way of playing their own game to see if I could change what was happening.

Eventually we were all settled and the blinds closed, the lights dimmed and a sort of soft ethereal music started up. I could hear a child crying in the other room but my room was thankfully quiet and before I realised it I was being woken up by Miss Tracy and asked if I needed a change.

“How long have I been asleep?” I groggily asked.

“Well Jamie, you went sleepy-byes for nearly an hour...” I looked at her angrily as I didn’t like the fact she was talking to me like I was a two year old.

“Ohhh, that look tells me someone’s wet their diaper and needs a change... c’mon sweetpea let’s get you over to the counter and changed before you get a nasty little rash.”

Of course I wasn’t going to put up with this nonsense much longer but as I moved I felt that she was correct and my diaper was absolutely full. She patted the soggy front and smiled.

“Someone’s been visited by the tinkle fairy... ohh and such a load... we’d better check that’s all there is.” She turned me round and pulled back the rear of my diaper, “Who’s a good boy... no stinkies but we still need to change and wipe your little bits ‘n bobs and get you ready for more play, hmmm?”

Now I was aware of the expanded diaper I definitely wanted out of it so had to put up with being treated like all the others and wait my turn to get fresh padding. The girls were very fast and efficient so my turn, standing in line waiting with a very heavy and drooping diaper, was soon over.

“Oopsy,” the girl said as I climbed onto the warm plastic changing mat that had just been vacated by a giggling two year old, “let’s see what tinkles...” I gave her a look and for a moment she stopped her chat and instead of her smiley and encouraging face I saw a real challenge. I wasn’t ready to take that on so tried to relax and let her get on with what she had to do... and say whatever she thought appropriate.

I admit that it took a great deal of restraint not just to blow her and everybody else off but my bum couldn’t take another visit from the Prefect so I lay there hoping my resentment didn’t show too much.

“Jamie, you’re doing very well,” she cooed as she wiped away any dampness from my privates. “It’s so nice having you with us and Damian and Elsie are keen to play with you once we have you all nicely wrapped up.” She smiled radiantly as she nodded over to two toddlers who were waiting at the door already freshly re-diapered and looking excitedly in my direction.

The diaper and padding were quickly applied, as were the plastic pants inched up my legs. As I was about to get up Miss Sylvia came over with a onesie she said should fit and that was pulled over my head and the metal studs clasped under my crotch. It was all very snug but at least it hid part of the fabric.

“Off you go... and Jamie,” she said with more than a hint of a warning, “play nicely.”

#

I looked around and I was dressed the same as these little babies, some around the same age as Josh, except he was in another, more advanced class and wearing a school uniform not a onesie and diaper. Miss Sylvia’s knowing threat hadn’t gone unnoticed and I reluctantly began to join in the game that Elsie and Damian had cooked up. Of course, it wasn’t too difficult to join in because I had played silly toddler games with Joshy before we moved here. Unexpectedly, guilt set in when I realised that we hadn’t played together for quite some time. No wonder he loved coming to school, he had friends to play with.

Since coming to TYME I’d never once given a thought to mine and Josh’s relationship I was just too resentful about the move. The number of times he’d tried to engage me in the daft stuff we used to play together and I just blanked him or was downright rude... well that wasn’t how it used to be.

I didn’t have to give the game much thought as it involved a lot of running around and screaming with delight (them not me though I did make the appropriate noises when necessary) and I began to wonder if wetting was down to my self-inflicted depression? I didn’t know why or how but despite everything mom putting me back in diapers had been needed.

I mean, I hadn’t wet until I came here so maybe, if I DID make friends with some of the other kids my age, perhaps my morning sogginess would be no more. How Elsie and Damian, and the few other’s that joined in our game had got me thinking about changing my grumpiness and embracing the change... though I wasn’t sure. Maybe because of that simple fact, despite myself, I was actually having fun like Josh and I used to do.

Is this what they meant by re-training?

#

There were moments when I was completely lost in play but then I’d realise I was not supposed to be here and that would lessen my enthusiasm. Of course the carers were keeping an eye on everyone but I felt their displeasure when I occasionally stopped and thought about my situation. I was in conflict. I knew what I should be doing but there was still a resistance that buzzed in my mind to fight this place as much as I could. Weirdly, it was as I was thinking about this ‘fight’ that I could feel my diaper warming and realised I’d just soaked it. The lunchtime milky drink apparently flowing through me very quickly and without any conscious attempt on my part to stop the flood.

“Jamie sweetie, do you need a change?”

I felt stupid and wasn’t sure how Miss Tracy knew but the diaper’s slight discolour gave it away so there was no use denying it.

“OK boys and girls anyone else need a change?” She looked over at the others and two put up their hands. “Jenny, Azim come along with Jamie and we’ll get you all cleaned up and into a nice fresh diapee, yeah?”

So, two little figures and a relatively large one waddled over to the changing room.

“Do you want to go first Jamie?”

This was so embarrassing but what was worse than having to wear a diaper (as I’ve said) was wearing a wet one so I reluctantly nodded.

“There’s a good boy,” encouraged Miss Tracy, “I’ll have you all clean and tickety-boo in moments” and thrust a teddy into my hands as she flipped the snaps holding my onesie together. The flimsy material bounced up onto my chest revealing just what a full and soaked diaper I was wearing.

She pulled down the plastic pants and pulled at the securing gizmos.

“Oh sweetie,” she smiled and cooed at me, “this is very wet... you must have been wearing a damp diaper for ages... we must start checking you more often... it’s not good to leave a wet diaper on for too long. We’re here to help Jamie... so don’t be shy in asking” then she quickly tapped something onto her tablet and smiled.

I was sure I hadn’t wet earlier but I couldn’t be sure. Surely I’d know when my diaper was wet and take the appropriate action... except... I didn’t want anyone to know I wet, which was really stupid because everyone knew I did.

Throughout this little speech of childish encouragement she had removed the soggy mass, wiped me clean and rubbed in some cream - all this whilst I was biting my bottom lip and clutching the teddy tightly. Jenny and Azim looked on standing on their tippy-toes to try and see better.

A flurry of powder followed and made me cough and splutter which strangely got me chuckling and set off my two fellow diaper wetters. Miss Tracy took out another large blue diaper from under the table and fluffed it out; she added another soaker pad and quickly slipped it under my bum and fastened me in. A dry diaper was welcome but it seemed thicker than the last and, when she shuffled up a fresh pair of equally thick vinyl pants, I noticed that there were small cartoon animals all over them. I was about to complain when Azim came over and was obviously intrigued by them.

“Ooohhh, wuvwy,” he enthused.

For some reason his reaction to them took away my complaint and Miss Tracy helped me off the table and lifted Azim on to it.

“Would Little Azim like some wuverly plastic panties like his friend Jamie?” She nodded towards me and he giggled in response. “Ask Miss Sylvia for a larger onesie sweetie,” she called after me, “I’m afraid that one wouldn’t fasten with your new padding.”

I watched for a moment as she tickled Azim who was wriggling and giggling furiously but obviously enjoying the attention. I was just glad that she hadn’t done the same to me as I wasn’t sure how I’d have reacted. Meanwhile, I was on my way back to the rest of the group who were getting milk and cookies.

#

The onesie hung loose and flapped a little as I walked.

“Ooohhh sweetie, that’s a thick diapee and I suppose the onesie doesn’t fit,” I nodded at Miss Sylvia. “Don’t worry sweetie, I have something else you can wear. Just go off and play and I’ll be back in a moment.”

By then two little hands had grabbed mine and were dragging me over to their play area where a mat was set out with toys and dolls having a picnic. I’d played this game before with Josh so knew my part in it. I was the guest of honour.

We’d been playing and pretending to have cakes and drinks when Miss Sylvia arrived back.

“OK sweetie, hands up.” I saw she was carrying something new so did as she asked.

The onesie was slid off with care and a little shiver ran through my body because it was done with such tickly tenderness.

“Keep your arms up sweetie,” and she folded a soft fleecy t-shirt down and over my body. Like the diaper it felt fantastic against my skin and came to a stop just at the top of my padding.

It was in pale blue and had a yellow cartoon monkey on the front which the rest of the assembled kids were excited about. They were all pointing at it and making comments and giggling so, thinking how Josh would have liked this, I pretended to be a monkey and bounced around making monkey noises. Had there been ropes to climb I think I might well have gone ape.

It seemed appropriate to start making monkey type noises and adopting the facial expression I assumed went with being a monkey. The next step was to launch myself up onto a table and beat my chest. I saw the carers looking a little worried but I continued to screech like a happy ape.

The kids loved it and were squealing in delight. I looked over and all the carers were laughing as well. Soon I had the entire nursery in uproar as I bounded from one mat onto a chair, back to another mat then up onto a table. Yes, I was a hit and the kids appreciated my silly antics. I saw both Miss Tracy and Miss Sylvia making notes. I just hoped they were as positive as I felt at that moment.

# tbc #