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  1. Riley, an eleven-year old girl, is going to fall in love with baby diapers. Disclaimer: this story was written in a different language than English. It was translated with the help of an online translator. If you find something wrong, please feel free to comment it and I'll fix it. Enjoy! — Chapter one: Monotony Riley lived a monotonous life. Like any other eleven-year-old girl, she would wake up early in the morning, eat breakfast with a bowl of milk and cereal, brush her teeth and become an athlete to catch the bus that would take her to school, spend five hours listening to her teachers' endless speeches, and write down everything important on her notepad. Friends she had none. Not that she minded the company of others, let's be clear; she preferred to stay in the background and be on her own. In group work she would participate enthusiastically and do her part; when it was over she would go back to being the shy, reserved little girl she was. From time to time she imagined what her life would have been like if she had had friends. Probably, it would have been less boring and static and more eventful. Once, she posed the question to her parents, whose answers did not enlighten her much. Her father Greg told her that having friends fills the days with great excitement, while her mother Helen told her that time passes more quickly and cheerfully if one is in the company of a friend. She was still pondering this on her way home from school. She passed Vito's restaurant, then Mary-Ann's china store, then stopped at the supermarket entrance. She looked at it undecided about her next move. It was quite a long way, at least a 30-minute walk. She had finished her water bottle in the story hour; she would be thirsty even before she entered the residential area. She tapped the left pocket of her jacket, she had her wallet with her, therefore money as well. She was sure of it, she had not used it before this moment. Thus, she passed through the entrance and headed for the bottle counter. She took a fresh water bottle and set off in search of the crates, which in a single moment turned into a full-fledged treasure hunt. She found herself in the meat department, continued to the right, all the way to the back, and arrived at the area dedicated to bread. Puffing, she went back four wards and turned left. She was surprised to see the shelf of baby products on one side and the toy shelf on the other. Motionless as a statue, she admired the baby products side, especially the diapers and wet wipes in their colorful and flashy packaging. She came out of her trance-like moment by shaking her head. She reached over and grabbed a package of Pampers Baby-Dry. Fluffy, she thought. I wonder how they will fit me? Suddenly, Riley was struck with a sense of disgust and placed it back on the shelf. Why had she thought that? Why had she stopped there and held a package of baby diapers in her hands? What was happening to her? She took steps back. Her gaze shifted to a young woman with brown hair and delicate face. She, too, was looking at that section with interest. She stopped at the exact spot where Riley had been perched and picked up the diaper package and placed it in her cart. In that instant, their eyes met. Caught in the act, Riley looked away; her mother had taught her that looking at strangers was rude. She blushed. In complete silence, the lady smiled at her and continued on her way. The little girl took one last look at the shelves filled with diapers and other baby products. She would have liked to buy them and use them. However, there was one detail that hammered in her head: she was an eleven-year-old girl and able to listen to her body, not a baby. She went back to find the speakers, putting this strange episode behind her and hoping it would not happen again. I am a big girl, she told herself. And big girls don't wear diapers. — The next day, Riley was there again looking at those shelves full of light blue packages of Pampers Baby-dry diapers stacked one on top of the other and one behind the other forming an impregnable wall. The real reason she was there was still a mystery, but she didn't care at that moment. She was itching to buy a pack of diapers and a package of wet wipes. She reassured herself by saying, "I'll take them now. I'm going to get them now. I'll take them now." As soon as she took the first step, she would immediately retract it. Then, the air grew tenser and tenser, and Riley tried harder and harder not to panic. She did this seven times in a row. "You still here too?" asked a soft voice. The little girl turned her head to her left; it was the woman she had seen twenty-four hours earlier, dressed in a slightly wrinkled dark blue overcoat and brand-new light blue pants. Her first thought was: What a strange coincidence. "Uh-huh," Riley replied, nodding. His heart began to beat faster. "I'm glad to know I'm not the only person in this lane," replied the adult in a friendly, cordial tone. "I forgot to take the wipes yesterday." The woman fetched them and then returned to Riley. "You seem nervous, are you all right little girl?" Riley nodded hastily, as well as giving an unbelievable smile. The woman looked behind her, then turned her focus back to the little girl with a questioning face. "Why are you here?" she asked as she lowered herself to her height, eyes as clear green as an expanse of grass on a sunny day. Quickly, she added, "If you don't mind me asking." Riley remained silent. Why was this woman asking her that question? Was she a woman who had ulterior motives? Where were the adults at that moment? She began to breathe nervously. The woman realized she was being impetuous toward her, so she repeated the question in a lighter, less inquisitive voice, "What brought you here, honey?" "I... I-I don't know," Riley stammered, taking a few steps back. "Maybe..." "You're interested in these things," replied the woman thoughtfully. "It's nothing wrong, you know." Her eyes lit up. The woman continued. "It's a curiosity that a lot of kids have, so there's nothing wrong with... going back to being a little baby and using baby things. " "Really?" "Yes," she replied, smiling, "you're not crazy, you're a normal kid. You're unique." Riley's eyes became glazed over and she rubbed them with the sleeve of her jacket. "I want to make you a proposition, so you are free to refuse," the woman began. "I'll buy you everything you need and drive you home. What do you say?" Without thinking, the little girl shook her head. Such a proposal could not be refused. And Riley already had a counter-proposal in mind to make to the mystery woman. She took courage and proposed to her, "I have the money and I want to take it... but the only thing I need... is... to know how it fits." The woman smiled. "Would you like me to put it on before we part?" Riley blushed embarrassed and looked away from her. No. No! This was going too far; her private parts remained private! The woman chuckled amusedly, "Just kidding, silly! Just lie on top of it, lift it up until you feel it over your belly, and attach the tapes. If you're having difficulty, watch a YouTube video." Riley nodded and in a low voice thanked the woman, before leaving her field of vision she ruffled her hair playfully and wished her good luck with everything. Would she see her again someday? She took a package of diapers, one of wet wipes and a lotion of moisturizer and walked to the cashier to pay. The cashier who had served her, a woman in her 60s, complimented her on being a diligent and responsible girl. She could not blush upon hearing those sweet words; she wished they had been true! Once outside the supermarket, she felt over the moon, and the smile on her face was proof of that. Now, it remained for her to go home and turn back the clock; the day had taken a decidedly more exciting direction than the usual monotony.
  2. 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
  3. The Suit I just started grammar school; surprisingly passing the exams, which neither of my two older brothers did, so was regarded by my family as a bit of an oddity, but a good one. This was something special, for the first time ever, one of the family going to grammar school. Mum and dad said they were so proud of me. Had I peaked at eleven years old? We didn’t have much money but mum was so thrilled she couldn’t wait to take me to get my new school uniform. I already had grey shorts and socks but needed a new school blazer with the badge that meant so much, together with the correct school tie and cap. It came to a small fortune but mum and dad scraped the bottom of whatever barrels we had in order to pay for this fine achievement. Getting ready for my first day I was so nervous but mum said, as she passed me a freshly ironed shirt, she couldn’t believe her ‘little sweetheart’ was going to such a prestigious academy. She seemed more excited than I was as she added both her and dad couldn’t have been more delighted about my success because of what the future now held. They both firmly believed that this type of education was a guarantee of future accomplishment. # The housing estate we lived on was very working class and although there were bound to be others my age who had passed their exam, I didn’t know anyone. My brothers, and all their friends, went to the local secondary school so I was a bit of an anomaly. Most of the families were just about getting by, some a lot worse than we were, so I knew mum and dad were probably sacrificing quite a lot to let me go to this particular ‘elite’ place of education. # My first day at ‘big school’ was quite daunting. Most of my class were, like me, wearing shorts but a few eleven year olds had made the leap into long trousers. I was surprised as I thought we would all be wearing the same uniform. Mum had said that for the first couple of years, the rule was that ‘junior’ boys should wear shorts. Obviously this wasn’t true, and though it didn’t click in my mind at the time, the reason I stayed in shorts was simply because I was still growing and we hadn’t enough money to buy such ‘extras’. My older brothers at their school were wearing long trousers but, as they grew out of them, first Joe who then handed them down to Geoff, they were really in no fit state as hand-me-downs for me. However, like a lot of the kids on the estate, it’s how I ended up with most of my clothes. In fact, my new blazer, tie and cap were about the only new thing that I possessed that were mine alone. Their trousers with worn out knees through general wear and tear made them almost useless for anything other than cutting down and converting to ‘playing out’ shorts. Mum had gotten to be a dab hand at sewing and patching stuff up but even she couldn’t make a silk purse from a sow’s ear, and certainly not for her boy in grammar school. Although only three and two years (respectively) older than me, my rough and tumble brothers, Joseph and Geoffrey, were big boys for their age, whereas I’d maintained a small stature like mum, they had gained dad’s genes and had grown a lot quicker than me. As a result, I had an abundance of shorts, which not surprising for my size always fit. I wasn’t going into long trousers for some time yet… not with money being at a premium and two brothers who also needed clothes for school as well as everything else. Whilst I was wearing shorts at least I looked as smart as any other new boy in class. Patched up long trousers just wouldn’t do. As there were others in the same boat as me, I wasn’t that bothered about wearing shorts. Because, when I’d arrive back home from school I always changed out of my uniform and into something more scruffy and relaxed, which generally meant a different pair of shorts and jumper. I was still the youngest (and smallest) of the family so got all my clothes from my older brothers. I was used to wearing hand-me-downs so it didn’t worry me. The thing was they were still growing teenagers whereas I seemed to have slowed down with my growth spurt so all new clothing was aimed at them. # However, on a different subject, with grammar school came homework, and proper homework, not like you’d get at junior school. I didn’t like it and found it difficult to sustain any interest in doing work away from class. Even when my older brothers tried to help me… I was hopeless. The teachers at the academy were a fierce bunch of old men in gowns who terrified me and my real ability became apparent, I lacked any great talent for learning. At my earlier schools the teachers had been friends and very supportive, but now, well it was down to me to work, and work hard, to produce results. Not that the teachers were bad, in fact, they were very good, it was just that you were left to prove, improve and motivate yourself. It just wasn’t me. I’m sure the teachers were encouraging in their own way but I suppose I just wasn’t ready for such a dramatic change in what was now expected of me. I guess I was just a bit lazy and had no idea how I came to pass the exam in the first place. There were around a hundred of us inducted that year and we were divided into Forms 1a, 1b and 1c, I wasn’t by any means the worst but I was left in the lower half of the class… and I was in the bottom section for my age. # About six months into term I woke up one Monday morning and I was wet through. I’d had a homework assignment over the weekend that I just couldn’t seem to get a handle on and I’d been dreaming about how my teachers would react to such a “stupid boy”. My night time worries had become very apparent as I gingerly got up and had to tell mum what had happened. When she saw me standing in the kitchen in soaked pyjamas and a very worried look on my face she seemed sympathetic but also a little saddened. She had hoped that I’d bloom at this school, which was very well regarded, but I really was in fear of the strict teachers even though, as yet, I’d not fallen foul of any of them. It was just the shear dread of what might happen rather than any actual experience. Although mum had to dash off to work she stripped my bed, turned the mattress and opened the windows to air things out. She said that she’d sort everything else out by the time I got home from school but in the meantime, just to do the best I could. She also insisted that I had a really good wash as she didn’t want me to go to school smelling of pee. # Mum worked part-time at Boots the Chemist, whilst dad worked as a warehouse stockman for one of the big supermarket chains. Neither were extravagantly paid jobs but they both worked hard to give us kids whatever they could. I may have dressed in old clothes but we never went hungry or shoeless… and I didn’t have parents who drank their way through any problems. # I pulled on my uniform, checked that my shoes were shiny; the school masters were very insistent that shoes should always gleam. We had regular inspections to make sure we kept up to a certain level of cleanliness, hairstyle, hygiene and our uniforms should be well maintained. If you faltered in any of these areas a terse and awkward letter from the headmaster would be sent to your parents – standards had to be upheld at all times - this included any time your wore the uniform whether in school time or not. All this ‘pressure’ was weighing heavily on my shoulders. Other kids at school seemed to revel in this new responsibility and not being treated as thoughtless adolescents, whilst it simply scared me. Meanwhile, after what appeared to have been only a few weeks, I was one of the few boys in my class still wearing shorts, which of course only added to the fact that I didn’t feel grown-up compared to those who were in long trousers. Out of the three classes, there were still less than twenty of us in our grey school shorts, the rest having ‘graduated’ into long trousers. We who were still wearing shorts felt under duress to conform but not all families (like mine) had the wherewithal to make that financial leap. Occasionally some of the older boys, and those in my class with self-confidence, commented on the fact that, being on the short side, I looked like I still belonged in junior school and hadn’t quite made the grade to senior level. With short grey school shorts revealing my hairless bare legs, slim diminutive figure, floppy dark brown hair and still quite babyish soft features, I probably did look exactly as they described. # At night, as I slept, whatever the reason, all this was getting to me in some way and I woke up soaked every morning. Thankfully, after that first wet night, mum had put a plastic sheet on my bed to protect the mattress. After my third wet night she’d managed to get a discount on nappies from her work place and after that, I spent every night tightly pinned into them as I slept. There were tears and I tried my best to reject the inevitable but both my parents said it was for the best, so that was me… sunk. This helped with the wet bed (though not soaked nappies) but did nothing for my self-esteem and my brothers, being brothers (Geoffrey 14, Joseph 15), took great delight in making sure that their ‘clever’ little brother knew he was nothing more than a dumb, pissy little baby. If they’d ever shown resentment at mum’s pride in my getting to grammar school that soon disappeared as they saw I was unable to cope and had become almost incontinent. They appeared almost gleeful in my decent into becoming a bed wetter. Mum had a catalogue from which she bought most of our clothes in instalments and they would often leave it open at the infants page, circling prams, onesies and baby’s plastic pants. As it was, thanks to her work at the chemist, mum had brought home a pack of twelve adolescent fabric nappies and a few pairs of very strong rubber pants that she’d been assured by the company were leak-proof and odour-free. These were to become the defence that kept my bed dry and the damp contained as I slept. They were smooth and glossy to the touch but gripped my waist and legs like a vice. They didn’t hurt, the thick rubber saw to that, but they were heavy and together with a well-padded nappy, were a force to be reckoned with. However, they did work very well and my small bedroom (my brothers shared a much larger bedroom) didn’t smell of pee. My nappies, plastic pants and various creams were kept away from their prying eyes, whilst mum and dad made sure I was well shielded every night in my heavy protection. As you can tell, things were getting worse and try as I might, my body was behaving badly and there seemed very little I could do to control it. # However, mum did tell me that soon I’d be getting my first suit. Not a hand-me-down, one that Auntie Annie, mum’s auntie, was getting made especially for me. She knew I was growing up and wanted to get something that was just for me… something to celebrate securing a place at grammar school. I was so excited I badgered mum to give me details. All she said was that I’d have it before my twelfth birthday and that auntie mentioned it was blue. So, despite having to wear nappies at night, I was finally going to be treated as a grown-up and have my own clothes. # Auntie Annie is my mother’s auntie who, together with her husband Bill, had taken in mum when she was a girl after her mother had died. Her father was a hopeless drunk and couldn’t cope with his young daughter’s grief along with his own, so Annie, his sister, had stepped in to help. Aunt Annie and Uncle Bill had all but adopted mum and she lived with them until she married and left home. I never knew Uncle Bill, he’d died long before I was born. However, Auntie Annie was my favourite relative and since being a little baby, I’d always spent time with her. Even as I got older and more independent, I would still visit her as often as I could… and sometimes stay over to keep her company. # Unfortunately, before the suit arrived I had an enormous set-back at school; I accidently wet my pants in the middle of a science lesson. Sorry to say, I drifted off as the teacher spoke about chemical symbols, and in that few moments of total relaxation my bladder gave way and a river of stored pee exited and covered the front of my shorts. Barry Turner, who I was sitting next to, couldn’t believe his eyes as the dark grey stain spread across my shorts and a trickle of pee ran down my leg. He was quick to notify everyone in class and the teacher, realising he had one very damp eleven year old, gave me permission to go and see the school matron. Now I’m not sure if this was something that regularly happened at the academy but judging by the verdict from my classmates, it was both a funny and diabolical thing to have happen. I slouched, undignified from the chemistry lab, down several flights of stairs to matron’s room. On the way I tried to conceal my obvious stain but it was too large for my tiny hand to completely hide. Two older boys I passed on the stairs smiled before I heard a huge guffaw once there were a couple of floors separating us. I couldn’t have been more embarrassed, well I thought not, until I knocked on matron’s door. # She looked aghast, shook her head and told me to take off my shorts. I was reluctant to do anything but too afraid of any form of authority in this place, and she was definitely scary, so I did what I always did when authority spoke, just as I was told. I stood there holding my wet grey school shorts and offered them to her. My sodden underpants sagged a little and she looked perplexed. “And those,” she said pointing to the droopy white cotton. She passed me a thin cotton towel and told me to dry myself, whilst she busied herself sorting stuff in a cupboard. I checked to make sure I hadn’t wet my shirt, although one of my socks was also soaked with pee, but I didn’t want to draw attention to that fact. Once relatively dry I stood waiting for whatever it was matron had decided I needed. She’d pulled out a few items, which I couldn’t quite make out what they were, and then went over to the phone on her desk and dialled a number. It was the contact number for mum and after a few intermediaries she eventually answered. Matron told her what had happened and asked if she could come and collect me. There was more of a conversation and I saw matron listening intently occasionally murmuring a “Yes “or an “I see” ending with a “Yes, please bring those”. # It felt strange standing all but naked in the middle of the office but after a couple of minutes (which seemed like an eternity) eventually she finished and confirmed that mum would pick me up shortly (45 minutes) and that in the meantime I’d have to wait with her. Matron checked I’d dried myself properly and then, much to my surprise, fluffed out a large disposable and told me to sit on her table so she could put me in it. My half-hearted protest was dismissed as she took complete charge and had efficiently taped me up in a matter of moments. “I can’t have you sitting around with no clothes on, and, as I don’t know if you might wet again, this is my solution.” She wasn’t being unkind but I was a little tearful that a boy my age (at grammar school no less), had been reduced to wearing a thick nappy. The fact that I was already regarded as a ‘little kid’ by some of my fellow students made my situation worse. Word would be all around the school about my wet incident and I could feel my standing in the school yard, although not great, would be taking a dive. She checked that the disposable fitted correctly and then pulled my shirt down as best she could to hide the bulky mass. She slipped my wet clothes into a plastic bag and handed them back. “Sorry about this, I know you’ll be feeling a little anxious but I don’t have…” She appeared to have an idea and went off to check on something else. The padding was pleasant and in all honesty I was quite grateful to be out of sopping pants, but, as I sat waiting for her return I was too embarrassed to admit to matron that I’d recently begun to wear a nappy at night… although in retrospect, perhaps mum had mentioned that fact in her brief conversation. She came back triumphantly holding a pair of white nylon gym shorts. “I thought there might be something in the lost property box… here… put these on.” I squeezed myself into them but it was difficult. They would probably fit had I not had such a cushion around my groin but with such thick padding I struggled. Matron looked on somewhat pleased with herself being able to find something to spare my blushes. However, she told me that under normal circumstances I’d be sent straight back to class but as this was an ‘exceptional’ event, I should sit in her outer office, read and wait for mum to arrive. # It wasn’t like a doctor’s waiting room with games for kids and out of date magazines for older folk, this one had two plastic chairs, wasn’t particularly warm and had glass windows where anyone walking down the corridor could look in. I sat slightly demoralised holding onto my plastic bag and wishing mum would hurry up. Matron must have taken sympathy on me as she came out of her office and handed me a very old copy of the Beano comic. For a couple of minutes it held my attention until the end of lesson bell rang and the entire school moved around to their next class. Several people walked or hurried down the corridor and past matron’s window. For those who had eyes to see, there I was, sat in the briefest of shorts, a disposable clearly jutting down the leg-holes and with me reading a particularly childish comic. Of course it only occurred to me how stupid I looked after everyone had gone to their respective classrooms and I took stock. I hadn’t quite realised how much of the nappy was visible as I’d been engrossed in the cartoon capers and shuffled around getting comfy on the plastic chair, my tight little shorts had become very revealing. A huge sigh escaped my lips as I wondered if anything worse could happen. # tbc #
  4. Marta

    A wash day 4.jpg

    From the album: Wash and Dry

    © Marta

  5. Marta

    A days wash.jpg

    From the album: Wash and Dry

    © Marta

  6. Meet Alice. An 19 years old college girl who, recently has been having some troubles with a slightly leaky bladder. Regular bathroom trips have frustratingly become the norm for her in recent times, as well as frequent sudden urges to go. Which when you're often stuck in a 90 minute class can be a problem.... The last thing she ever expected at her age was to be worried about peeing herself in class, it's the sort of thing she would of happily teased someone other unfortunate student for, but the reality is that the cute college chick now finds herself terrified that with her seemingly misbehaving bladder, she might end up doing what in her mind, would probably totally destroy her all so-important social life. Yesterday was the final straw. She had struggled with every fibre in her body to hold it until the end of class, trying desperately hard not to make her predicament obvious to the rest of her class, as she fought against her throbbing weak bladder. The only way she held it was to constantly remind herself of just how much it would ruin her life if she peed herself in front of everyone. Alice hated History any way, she didn't even know why she picked it. That stupid teacher Mr Slater would never let her leave from the moment the class started. Perhaps because of his perceived perception of her as being one of the more rebellious students in his class, which to be fair to him was probably justified. It was seemingly his way of trying to teach her some much needed discipline... The second her class was dismissed Alice literally ran down the hallway, barging past people. There were a few chuckles as some students noticed the pretty girl clutching between her legs. Eventually she made it into the girls toilets where she charged into one of the cubicles, however before she could even lock the door, or pull down her panties, her baby-like bladder decided to let go...... She stood frozen on the spot only a mere few inches away from the toilet , as if to add insult to injury, as she helplessly let out a huge gasp which was followed by a torrent of uncontrollable pee which gushed out from beneath her pleated skirt, quickly forming a large puddle which spread outside of the cubicle She felt like an embarrassed, un-potty trained child as the reality of what she had done set in, causing her make-up covered cheeks to instantly burn red. The puddle was huge, and there would be no mistaking what it was if someone came in and saw her stood there.. "No no no this can't be fucking happening" shouted the distraught girl as she looked at what she'd done, completely oblivious that she wasn't alone.... She soon heard some giggles from the stall next to her.....her heart instantly skipped a beat as a feeling of dread rushed through her....... In her desperate rush she couldn't believe she hadn't noticed there was someone in the next stall..... Whoever was in there obviously knew about Alice's accident. To be fair no one could of missed the sound of her pee hitting the floor though. It had been like someone putting a tap on full power and left it running for about 20 seconds... Looking down Alice almost died when she saw her accident had crept under the partition wall and into the cubicle the other girl was in...... Knowing now that the girl could potentially ruin her if she knew who she was, Alice, in a complete panic thought hard about what to do. Then she heard a voice.... "Oh dear looks like someone needs some pampers, did Mommy not put one on you this morning little one?" came the condescending voice of the laughing girl Alice fought hard to hold back the tears in her eyes.... Judging by the horrible rough voice the cruel words had been spoken in, Alice thought she recognised the voice as a girl called Lisa Phillips. This was bad news. She was a rather large girl known not to be backward in coming forward. Probably something to do with her own shortcomings, she wasn't afraid to try and bring other people down if she had a chance. If she found out it was Alice, she knew news of her accident would be common knowledge by tomorrow morning.... She decided that she now had two options.. 1. Wait it out until Lisa leaves and hope to god she doesn't wait for her outside or go and get her friends..... which knowing her would probably be extremely wishful thinking... Or 2. Just grab her bag and get the hell out of there before Lisa has a chance to come out of the cubicle and see her..... A concerned Alice examined her skirt realising to her surprise it was pretty much dry, and her shoes had also avoided being soaked. Visually she felt relieved there were actually no signs of her having just peed herself. She knew her expensive blue Victoria's Secret panties were obviously completely soaked, but no one need ever to know about that. She would just stick them straight in the washing machine when she got home. Suddenly, panic set in...........as she heard a click from the stall next to her. Meaning the cubicle door had been unlocked......... Without any time to think, Alice knew she had to act quickly. She grabbed her bag, swung the cubicle door open and ran, with her hands on her head to cover her face.... She bolted for the exit door trying to catch Lisa by surprise, who hadn't expected her to quickly run away. She managed to catch a glimpse of the running Alice from the side and back as she saw her dash for the door, with the girls hands trying to cover her face and her dark brunette coloured hair flying all over the place.... Alice quickly made herself disappear into the crowds, as the toilets were fortunately situated right by the college main entrance, and thankfully it was now home time, meaning what looked like half the college were either stood waiting for friends or headed home for the day.... Lisa charged out of the toilets hoping to get a better look at who the panty pisser was but felt disappointed to be met with nothing but crowds of students walking about.... The question is, did she, or did she not get a good enough look to know which college girl had just had a little pee pee accident?
  7. Marta

    colored day.jpg

    From the album: Wash and Dry

    © Marta

  8. Marta

    white day.jpg

    From the album: Wash and Dry

    © Marta

  9. 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. ####
  10. 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#
  11. Chapter One: The Drive Dad drove down the highway with meholding my hand between my legs. I had to pee and being stuck in a car definitely didn't help. A sign up ahead said that a rest area was only ten kilometres up ahead and I could certainly hold it. I could ask for my father to stop yet there was somethig else. “Something wrong?" Dad suddenly asked without looking at me. “Weird,” I replied. “ Dam weird you know.” He certainly did know why I felt weird. This was his plan. “I'm wearing an adult nappy,” I groaned. “You better be, Vicky,” Dad replied. “You don't want to be found out as a faker and lose this scholarship.” “Yeah,” I said. “That's the problem; I'm not really incontinent. They are going to find out.” “No, they won't. Just act natural. Show the letter I faked again.” I rubbed the padded material between my legs .“This is certainly not natural," I protested. “Well, get used to wetting yourself often,” he said. “You probably should show up in a really wet nappy. That way you won't look like a faker to the other girls who are used to wetting their nappies.” “Why did I let you talk me into this?” I whined. “You got a scholarship. The bank lost most my money, remember? This is your last chance to go to university,” he answered. I sighed. I don't understand how things got so weird. My father put away enough into my university fund to pay for all years of school. HMRC investigated my father recently and caught him for insider trading and fined him heavily and he eventually used up my university fund to pay for the fine. It was the summer before the start of uni and I had no money. So I search for scholarships. None fit me but after intesive search there was also a scholarship for only urinary incontinent girls who were studying any subject at my chosen university. Unlike the others, it was not listed on the university's website but on a discreet form for disabled students. It was the only scholarship and it was generous. It paid for everything including a monthly allowance. I remember distinctively getting the phone call. “Is Victoria Stevens there?” the woman asked. “Yes, this is she,” I gripped my mobile tightly. “This is Elizabeth Jones from the Urinary Incontinent Girls scholarship programme. You have been chosen.” My mouth was opened in shock. I had though my university dreams were over. “The last girl didn't meet our requirements. She was clearly bluffing her urinary incontinence just to get the scholarship while your doctor's letter appears genuine. I made this scholarship so incontinent girls can have the full university experience, including living in the halls. To do that we want to make sure that we pair you with another girl in the hall that is also incontinent for moral support. You will still have your own room Will this be a problem for you?” “No problem,” I replied, elated. “Good. We are having a summer camp to get to know the other girls. Attendance is mandatory.” I didn't tell the rest of my wider family. Dad thought it was perfect and had been a big help in getting me loads of adult nappies. They do sell nappies in stores like Boots, but the tape-o kind that real incontinent people wear is only found online and he helped me order Tena Slip Maxis online. Back to the present, the road sign indicated we wear near the camp. Dad said an incontinent girl would show up in a very wet nappy. I relaxed in my seat and pretended I was sitting on the toilet. As I started to pee in my nappy, it was so warm as the wetness spread around my crotch and under my bottom. I was shocked at how good it actually felt. Chapter Two: Fitting in with the Group Dad pulled into the lot and right away I spotted the group. After giving me a kiss, I head to group which consisted of five teenaged girls and a young lady stood around the van. “Are you Vicky?” the lady who was clearly Liz Jones, asked me. She wore torn jeans and a T-shirt. There was a bulge around her butt area, most definitely indicated she was wearing a nappy definitely wet. I said yes and opened the back door of my car and got my bags when she stopped me. "May I see your doctor's letter again?" I unzipped one part of my main bag and handed it over. Hoping the forgery work, she quickly smiled and nodded. "Can you remove your skirt? I want to see if you're wearing and adult nappy and have used it." I slowly unclipped my skirt; I tried many jeans but the bulge of the nappy always showed as well as the top. I can't remember how much I peed in the nappy earlier but Liz came closer, walked around and was satisfied. “Good. You're the last girl to arrive, so let's get going. You can put your stuff in the back of the van.” The wet nappy I had on now felt thick and I felt that I could use a change now. “Do I have time to run to the look real quick?” I leaned closer to her. “I'm quite wet.” Was there a loo nearby? “Uh no, do you think we can hold yourself?” I nodded though not sure if the nappy could. “Good. Then we got to go.” She led me in through the sliding door of the van and I took a seat beside a bored-looking girl with a sarcastic nerd phrase on her shirt. She wore black cargo jeans with all kinds of metal hanging from them. She whispered, “So, what's your story?” Before I could answer, Liz hopped into the driver’s seat and started the van. “Girls,” she called out through a speaker. “My name, as you all came into contact with, is Elizabeth Jones but you can call me Liz. I am the scholarship coordinator and founder of the Scholarship for Incontinent Girls. When I studied physics, I was embarrassed about having to explain to my hallmates, coursemates and friends that I had an incontinence problem. I realized that another incontinent girl would make a good hallmate and thus this scholarship came about. This camp is for several reasons. Mainly so you can get to know each other and find out who you to be paired with for moral support. The other reason is, unfortunately, to screen out people who are liars. I had to replace one girl earlier on who was not incontinent.” Minutes later, Liz continued. “So, get to know each other during this week. How about introducing yourself to each other now as I drive to the camp.” “My name is Kerri Kensington," the girl next to me began. "I am long tired of being teased about my incontinence. Having a mother who is not so discrete about it means everyone at school and my neighbour knew about it. This scholarship sunds great. I worried so much about uni and having to hide my nappies from others but I feel think group will give me support. I am excited about studying electrical engineering.” The girl who sat beside Kerri also wearing jeans spoke up. “My name is Michelle.” Her voice was softer and didn't give her surname. “I don't really have friends due to incontinence and will be studying Art History.” In the rear seat, a girl spoke up. “I'm Vera Horton. I'm just as normal as anyone else, or I was until the car accident where some drunk ran into me. The drunk doesn't have to wear nappies and it's not fair. Instead, he only got thirty days in jail. I instead have to spend the rest of my life in nappies.” She pounded her fists on the seat beside her. “Because of this, my boyfriend took someone else to my Year 11 and Year 13 prom. Will be reading Chemistry.” “My name is Bethany,” said her neighbour who had just looked up from a book. She wore all black with tight leggings. Even her nail polish and lipstick were black. “People already though I was weird with my love for black, so knowing about my nappies really made things worse. Will take modern history." The fifth girl introduced herself as Cath never Catherine. She worn a shorter skirt than myself. "I'll study my favourite subject biology and don't nappies to destroy my uni life.” I cleared my throat. “I'm Vicky Stevens. Am urinary incontinent birth since and my promised uni fund went away, so I thought I couldn't go to uni. Will be taking mechanical engineering." I hope that worked. The silence told me they accepted it. Chapter Three: The Meal About noon, Liz stopped at a local pub. I really wanted a fresh nappy. “Okay. Here is the plan. Cath, Vicky, and Michelle will go into the bathroom and change. Vera Bethany, and Kerri and myself will order our food. When you three return we will go change while you order your food. Then we will eat together.” In the toilet stall, I removed my skirt and looked down at my wet nappy. It was really wet - I did wet it a second time. I peeled off the tapes, rolled up the soggy nappy, then wiped myself off with baby wipes. Once finished, I put on a new Tena Slip like I had practiced many times by leaning against the wall of the stall. Back at the counter, I ordered a medium coke and a burger.
  12. Marta

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    From the album: Wash and Dry

    © Marta

  13. Marta

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    From the album: Wash and Dry

    © Marta

  14. Marta

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    From the album: Wash and Dry

    © Marta

  15. Marta

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    From the album: Wash and Dry

    © Marta

  16. Hi there staying in Hilton Metropole in Brighton from 7-14 July. Really would love to meet fellow nappy lovers for mutual changes and fun
  17. Unfortunately I’ve creatively run out of ideas for my last story (Transatlantic Troubles) so I’ve abandoned that for now. However I really wanted to start something new but because I don’t have time to write a story with multiple chapters I’m instead going to write a series of mini-stories using the same characters. This series will revolve around 20 year old Charlie, who lives at home with his mum Sally. He’s been an ABDL for as long as he can remember and after a number of occasions where his mum has caught him in the act, he’s admitted his desires to Sally. Each story will be based around situations and events in Charlie’s ABDL journey. The Charlie Chronicles: Aunty’s House “Charlie has really been struggling at the moment. Dropping out of University seems to have made him even more anxious and reclusive as normal and it’s making me really sad to see him so down” Sally explained to her sister Emma over the phone. “I’ve tried to encourage him to meet up with his friends but he comes up with an excuse not to every time. He seems content with just sitting in his room playing on his Xbox all day”. “Aww that’s really sad, a 20 year old boy should be out making the most of the best years of his life instead of moping around in his room all day. You don’t think it’s got anything to do with your little chat you had with him a few weeks ago do you?” Emma responded, referring to the revelation that Charlie had some ‘strange’ fantasies. “Well I mean it’s a good chance it is. Gosh I really don’t know what to do with him”. Sally sighed. “I’ve actually been thinking about what you told me quite a bit. Have you ever thought about giving Charlie what he wants?” Emma asked. “What do you have in mind?” Sally inquisitively asked her sister… One week later Charlie had just finished a game of Fortnite, which he inevitably lost, and was making his way out of his bedroom and down to the kitchen, where his mum was sat on the dining room table working away on her laptop. “You alright honey?” Sally said looking at her son, who was making his way to the fridge. “Yep” Charlie half-heartedly responded. Charlie opened the fridge door looking for something to have for lunch, opting for a slice of leftover pizza. He had a long afternoon of video games and needed to stock up before starting. “You aren’t going to be playing on that Xbox all afternoon again are you?” Sally asked. “Well there’s nothing else to do is there?” Charlie said before making his way out of the room. “Charlie stop there, it’s nice outside why don’t you ask John or Chris if they want a kick-about or something?” Sally said as she grabbed Charlie’s arm to stop him leaving. “They’re busy”, that’s the best excuse Charlie could come up with on the spot. “Wow those two must be the busiest people in this town! Well if you aren’t going to make plans for yourself then I’ll do it for you. I was speaking to your aunty Emma last week and she really needs someone to clear out her spare bedroom and I’ve volunteered you to go to hers tomorrow and help” Sally explained to Charlie. “And I’m not going to take no for an answer, it’ll be good for you to get out of the house”. “But mum!” Charlie protested. “No arguing, I’ve told her you’ll be at hers at 9am tomorrow morning. And take a spare change of clothes because it could be all dirty and dusty moving the old furniture” Sally ordered. Charlie simply huffed and then went back up to his room, realising that he couldn’t really get out of the visit. The most of the afternoon and evening was spent playing Fornite and FIFA. After dinner he went back up to his room and stuck on Netflix in the background while browsing the latest stories of Daily Diapers, and after finding the right story he inevitably finished the evening by masturbating, imagining himself in the story. Since he outed himself to his mum about being an ABDL after being caught with a package of cheap incontinence pants for the third time, he tried to be as private as possible about continuing his fantasies but the idea of his mum knowing about it made him feel extremely embarrassed. The day of his visit to his Aunty’s had arrived and Charlie was woken up by Sally, who brought him a cup of tea. She told him she was going to work and reminded him of the arrangements for the day. After half an hour or so of scrolling TikToks, he finished his tea and headed to the shower. After drying himself he headed back into his bedroom and got dressed, first picking out a pair of light blue briefs. The reason he wore briefs over boxers was that they were more comfortable to wear when wearing sports, or at least that was the reason he gave to his mum. In reality he wore briefs because it made him feel more childish. After picking out a light grey Hype tracksuit and some spare Nike joggers and jumper, he got himself ready and headed out the door. His Aunty’s house was only a 20 minute walk from his house and the weather was pretty mild so there was no need to get the bus. As he walked down the street on the outskirts of the town centre he looked across the road to see a younger mother pushing a buggy with a toddler riding inside. He noticed that the toddler wasn’t wearing any shorts of trousers and a pampers nappy was fully exposed, and this instantly made Charlie extremely jealous. ‘If only that was me’ he daydreamed. It wasn’t long before Charlie was at the door of the small semi-detached house in a quiet urban street. As he knocked the door he was his Aunty walk towards him through the semi-transparent glass to the right of the door. The door swung open. “Hey Charlie it’s so nice to see you!” Emma squeaked as she pulled Charlie into a warm embrace. “Hi Aunty Emma” Charlie said as she squeezed him to the point of suffocation. “You look great how are things” Emma asked as she pushed him away from her and ruffled his curly mop. “Let’s go inside and have a catch up”. Emma led Charlie through the doorway and straight into the living room. Emma was divorced and lived alone, although she often had guests and therefore the living room was decorated in a very neutral theme. She told him to take a seat on the big beige leather sofa. “You make yourself comfortable and I’ll make us a cup of tea” Emma said as she left him and headed to the kitchen. Charlie simply sat there politely looking around the room. He noticed a plastic storage box in the corner which seemed out of place but didn’t think anything more of it. “Here you go” Emma said as she handed him a mug of tea. “Thanks” Charlie responded. “So how are things? How is the job search going?” Emma enquired. “Yeah I’m fine thank you, no luck as of yet but I’m still looking!” Charlie said rather unenthusiastically. The search of a job had completely come to a halt truth be told. “I’m sure you’ll find one sooner or later. Your mum told me you’ve felt a bit down recently are you sure everything is alright?” Emma asked. Charlie begun to think this was a bit of interrogation. “Umm not really I’m fine, don’t know why she’s say that” he responded defensively. Emma got up off the armchair and sat right next to Charlie, placing her hand his. “You know Charlie, don’t be scared but your mum told me about your little confession. About wanting to be a baby again?” she said rather apprehensively. Charlie froze in his spot, feeling betrayed at his mum breaking her vow not to tell anyone about his ABDL tendencies. “Www… what?” he said as tears began to form in his eyes. “Oh no no no Charlie don’t be scared it’s okay. I’m not judging you, in fact I want to help” Emma explained as she rubbed his hand. “To tell you the truth I don’t actually need my spare bedroom clearing out, me and your mum think you need some time to do what you want” she said, alluding to his secret desires. “What I’m trying to get at is we’d both like you to explore your fantasies a bit more. We’ve even got you all the supplies and they are ready upstairs”. “I, I don’t understand” Charlie quietly said, hardly being able to say anything in shock. “Charlie I’m going to help you live out your fantasy, you’re free to act like a baby all day and I’m going to look after you. I did used to work in a nursery after all?” Emma said as she smiled at him. A million thoughts went through his mind. Charlie was shocked that his mother had gone behind his back and told someone else about his confession, but also felt like this was too good an opportunity to turn down. He had always been pretty close to his Aunty and she was the type of person who is willing to give anything a go. He really had to think about his response. “Ummm I’m not really sure I’m comfortable with this? I’ve never done anything with anyone before” Charlie said sheepishly as he sipped his tea. “Don’t be scared, I’ll guide you through all of it and I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do” Emma reassured him. “What do you say, do you want to be my baby for the day?”. Charlie hesitated a few seconds before answering. His heart was beating so fast he could hardly breath. Was this really happening? He was on the cusp of fulfilling his deepest fantasy, how could he turn this down. “Okay, but please promise me you won’t tell anyone” Charlie insisted. “Of course sweety, it’ll be our secret. Come here” Sally said as she opened up her arms for a hug. Charlie obliged and they embraced again. He felt a warm feeling as she stroked the back of his head lovingly. “Come on let’s go upstairs and get started” Emma said as she stood up and held his hand, leading him out of the living room. As they both climbed the stairs Charlie couldn’t help but stare at his aunty’s plump behind. The skin tight blue jeans she was wearing only intensified her incredible figure. Eventually they entered the spare bedroom and Charlie’s eyes locked onto the objects laid out on the bed. He saw a small Thomas the tank engine changing mat on the single bed, with a bottle of talcum powder, a package of baby wipes and a stack of 3 Tena Slip Maxi nappies. His face went bright red. “Now Charlie I want you to lie down on the changing mat and I’ll get you sorted” Emma turned and smiled at her nephew. “I could probably do this part myself” Charlie pushed back. “No no I insist. If you’re going to be a baby for a day we’re going to do it properly. Just relax I know you want to do this” Emma assured him. Charlie smiled and after a slight hesitation he sat on the bed and shuffled over so he was lying on the end of the bed with his legs hanging off the end. Emma then stood above him at the end of the bed and smiled. “Let’s get these big boy trousers off” Emma said as she pushed up his hoodie and grabbed the waistband of the joggers and begun pulling them down his legs. Once they were off his hairless legs and blue briefs were exposed. “Your pants are cute Charlie I like them!” Emma teased as she let out a little giggle, which only made Charlie more embarrassed. She then proceeded to pull them down his legs, “oh dear looks like you need some protection more than you think” she added as she held up the briefs to reveal a small wet spot on the front. He always dribbled the last drop of wee into his pants. “Aunty!” Charlie said as he dropped his hands down onto the bed forcefully. “I’m only teasing you sweety, now let’s get you into a nappy” Emma announced. The mere mention of the word got Charlie excited and he now needed to compose himself so he didn’t make the experience even more awkward than it already was. Charlie watched as Emma picked up the nappy and stretched it out. She then patted him on the thigh instructing him to left up his bottom. He complied as he lifted his legs and bottom up as he felt his Aunty slip the nappy underneath, and as he sat back down on the soft padding. He was in dreamland as his Aunty sprinkled a generous amount of powder on his crotch, shocked that he had managed to avoid an erection. “Nearly done” Emma teased as she lifted the front of the nappy over his genitals and strapped each side carefully. As he was fastened into the nappy the only feeling he had was pure elation. “All done Charlie! Stand up and let me have a look” Emma said as she grabbed both of his hands and lifted him up onto his feet. As he stood up straight he looked down and saw the nappy encapsulate his lower waist and crotch. He could feel it’s presence between his legs, and by no means was it a bad feeling. His aunty then proceeded to feel his bottom and adjust the waistband slightly until she was satisfied. “Wow you look so cute, does it make you feel little?” she asked him. “Yeah it does, it’s a bit big” Charlie responded as he then felt with his own hands. It protruded from all angles and it looked as authentic as a real babies nappy. “Well it is a nappy silly!” Emma laughed. “Now, do you want to wear what you are wearing now or would you like something a bit more, let’s say, fitting?”. Charlie knew this meant some sort of childish clothing but thought better of it, deciding to opt for baby steps in this experience. “Umm I’ll just stick with what I’m wearing now if that’s okay?” he said. “Okay if you want, but let’s leaving the joggers off for now. I don’t think they’ll actually fit over the nappy!” Emma compromised as she picked his joggers off the floor and folded them before placing them on the bed. “Let’s go downstairs”. She held her hand out to her now nappied nephew. Charlie took her hand and walked towards the door. Before they got to the doorway he looked to his right and saw his side profile in the full length mirror. He saw himself, wearing a grey hoodie, white sports socks and in between a large nappy. “Like what you see? Come on” Emma teased as she swatted him on the bum signalling him to move on. Charlie’s cheeked heated up and quickly carried on until he reached the stairs. They went back into the living room and both sat on the sofa. “Good boy” Emma remarked as he sat down. “Now Charlie, you can dictate how far into your baby fantasy you dive. That big box over there is full of toys from the nursery I used to work at so if you want to play with them go ahead. I’ll put some cartoons on the TV as well in case you want to just relax and watch them” Emma explained. That explained why that big out-of-place box was there. “Remember you are wearing a nappy so you have permission to wee or poo yourself if you want. I don’t mind changing you it was once my job to clean dirty bottoms!” she joked. This again made Charlie blush for the one thousandth time. “I’m going to do some washing up in the kitchen, I’ll be back in a few hours with a surprise” Emma said. “Oh and I’ll just leave this here” she added as she took something out of her pocket and placed in on the coffee table. Just like a rapper dropping the mic, she left the room swiftly. As Charlie looked down at the table he saw a solitary purple dummy. Charlie’s attention turned to the TV, which was now showing a cartoon called Bluey. He was sure he’d seen it somewhere before and eventually remembered that he’d briefly seen a few clips on TikTok. He sat for a few minutes transfixed on the TV and actually found himself enjoying the show. Periodically he’d look down and gaze at his nappy, poking and prodding it now and again to remind himself of what he was wearing. After a few episodes he became a bit bored of Bluey. It wasn’t that he wasn’t enjoying it, but he felt as though he was wasting time as he could pretty comfortably do that at home. He instead got up off the sofa and and walked towards the toy box. He took off the lid and then peered in seeing a vast array of toys. He saw teddies, action figures, puzzles and even some rattles. After rustling through his curious it was peaked by some wooden train tracks and trains. It suddenly unlocked a childhood memory and remembered it was in fact Brio. Charlie collected as much track as possible and began building his train network. As he connected the track together he perched on his elbows and knees with his bum stuck up in the air. To any onlooker he must’ve looked so babyish with his nappy exposed for all to see. Once the track was complete he began pushing the trains around the track, being taken over by an overwhelming feeling of nostalgia. As he stood up and went over to retreat some more trains from the toy box he felt a twinge in his bladder but chose to ignore it. It’s not like he’d never wet a nappy before, in fact he’d wet and even messed nappies as recently as a few months before today, but hadn’t quite prepared to do it in the open and in the presence of anyone else especially his aunty. While playing with the Brio, Emma walked into the room, stopping for a few seconds to see her nephew laying on his stomach with his legs kicking the air while playing with the train set. She couldn’t help but smile. “Having fun Charlie” she said. Charlie jumped in shock and immediately twisted around to sit in his bum and look up at his aunty. “Ummm just reminiscing with this Brio set I found” he replied. “I remember you playing with that when you were younger, you’ve always loved your trains haven’t you! After all of that playing you must be thirsty?” Emma asked, keeping her hands behind her back. “Well I’ve got a little treat for you”. She then revealed what she was holding. Charlie saw her holding a large babies bottle full of milk. She was clearly ramping up the baby experience for him. “Come over here” Emma ordered as she sat down on the sofa. Charlie got up and walked towards her before she placed her hand in his chest signalling for him to stop. He stood confused in front of his aunty. Her hand moved down to Charlie’s crotch, cupping the bottom of the nappy and then running her fingers along the edge of the nappy. “All dry! Remember if you need a wee just let it go, that’s what the nappy is for” his aunty told him. She then patted on the sofa as he sat down next to her. “Why don’t you get comfy and lay down, put your head on my legs here” she put her hand on Charlie’s back and he did as he was told, remaining silent throughout. Within seconds he was lying on his back with his head on his aunty’s lap, looking up at her. “Good boy, here you go” she cooed as she lowered the bottle into his mouth as he received the plastic nipple. He began sucking and the warm milk flowed into his mouth. The intense joy of the drink made him shut his eyes, aided by his aunty stroking his fringe. They sat for a fair amount of time just relaxing as he finished off the bottle of milk. “All gone! Wow you must’ve been thirsty” Emma announced as she lifted the bottle back out of his mouth. “Did you enjoy that?”. “That was really nice thank you” Charlie said as he sat back up. His bladder was now beginning to ache as he realised it wouldn’t be long until he needed to release. “Right I’ll leave you to carry on playing. I’ll put Finding Nemo on the TV for you in case you want to watch that instead and have a snooze” Emma said as she grabbed the remote and navigated to the films section. Once she pressed play she got up and went back towards the kitchen. “Thank you Aunty Emma” Charlie said with a smile on his face. “Aww my pleasure sweety. Just shout if you’d like anything to eat” Emma said. She suddenly turned back around and picked up the dummy off the table and in one swoop pushed it into Charlie’s mouth. She then bent down and kissed is forehead, before finally leaving. Charlie just let it happen, he’d fully loosened up to the baby experience at this point. Speaking of loosening up, Charlie realised he pretty desperately needed to pee and couldn’t wait much longer. He glanced again at the doorway and listened out just to make sure his aunty wasn’t coming back in. Once he gave himself the green light he slumped off the sofa into a squat position with his back up against the sofa, then adjusting the nappy in between his legs. He looked up and began watching Finding Nemo, trying to relax so he could comfortably release his bladder. After quite a few seconds he could feel the first few drops of wee come out, and after only a small push he felt a tidal wave explode into the front of his nappy. Due to his position, it washed over his balls like a tidal wave before being soaked up by the lower part of the Tena. He let out an audible sigh through the dummy as the warmth encapsulated his crotch. After moments of pure elation he could feel his wee come to a close, but to his surprise, as he pushed for the final time to make sure his bladder was fully empty, he received another call from his body. “Uh oh” he whispered as he came to the realisation that his bowels were asking for release. Looking back he hadn’t had is regular bowel movement this morning before leaving so it was due, but unfortunately it had come at the wrong time. He did briefly consider finding his aunty and asking to go to the toilet, but he remembered what she’d said earlier and he;d already wet himself, he may as well go all the way and make the most of the nappy. He switched position, seamlessly transitioning from a squat to being on all fours. As he stared at the TV, he began actively sucking the dummy as he concentrated on pushing. After a few hard pushes, he felt some movement. “Eughhhhh” he groaned as a large log squeezed out of his cheeks and crashed into the resistance of the back of his nappy. He kept up momentum as the poo broke and fell into the nappy, followed by some softer poo that smeared across him bum and the nappy. A couple of smaller pushes were to no avail, everything was out, and his nappy had gone from completely clean to pretty much full in a matter of minutes. Charlie stood up and assessed the damage. As he stood up straight the softer poo smudged in between his cheeks and he felt the soggy material push against his skin. He looked down to see the nappy sagging between his legs, and began exploring with his hand as he felt in between his legs and on his bottom. He could feel the lump protruding behind as he felt his penis stiffen and sniffed the air, which was now twinged with an aroma of a dirty nappy. Suddenly his attention turned to his surroundings. He decided the best thing to do would be to sit down and cling onto the faint hope that his aunty wouldn’t notice his wet and messy nappy. He backed up to the sofa before lowering down onto the cold leather, before committing and shifting his weight onto his bottom. The mess smeared all over his cheeks and even felt a small bit of poo travel up his bum crack, which caused a shiver to be sent up his spine. He carried on watching Finding Nemo and sucking on his dummy, awaiting his fate. About half an hour later, Charlie heard some footsteps get louder and louder with every step. By this time his nappy had cooled and the poo had almost hardened like cement. He’d hardly moved in the time since he sat down. ‘Here we go’ he thought to himself. “Hey Charlie, are you enjoying the film?” His aunty asked as she walked in with a duster in hand, waving it around the book cabinet next to the door. “Yep it’s one of my favourites” Charlie said as calm as he could. “Oh that’s good, I’m just going doing a bit of cleaning don’t mind m” Emma was cut off by something. She stood and looked around the room, before audibly sniffing the air three or four times. She stood facing Charlie on the other side of the room and put her hands on her hips. “Charlie is there something you want to tell me?” she asked him. Charlie sat silently. “Hmmm, something in here smells and I think you might know what it is?” She asked him again. “And don’t think I haven’t noticed that blue line on the front of your nappy”, Emma peered down at Charlie’s crotch. Emma slowly walked over to him and then sniffed again. “Up” she said promptly. Charlie slowly got up off the sofa and as soon as he was upright she grabbed his shoulders and turned him around. He then felt the back waistband of his nappy open before being pinged back into position. “Just as I thought, Charlie has pooed himself! And it’s a smelly one too phewy!” Emma teased as Charlie turned around just in time to see her pinch her nose. Charlie’s eyes began to water. “Is there something you want to ask me Charlie?” his aunty asked. “Ummm, can you change me please?” Charlie said quietly, with his hands hiding his crotch. “And why do you need changing Charlie?” she added, trying to make him feel as small as possible. “Well… because, I, umm, I’ve done a wee and a poo” Charlie said in a more babyish tone, his desires beginning to take over. “Of course you can honey. Are you able to walk or would you rather I carried you?” she asked him. Charlie simp,y held up his arms up signalling he’d rather be carried. Without saying anything, she grabbed under his armpits and lifted him up in the air before moving her arms so she was holding him by his thighs, with his bum and messy nappy hanging between. He wrapped his arms around her neck and buried his head into her shoulder. “Oh this stinky boy is heavy! Let’s get upstairs before I drop you” she said as she quickly headed to the stairs. Her tone of voice suggested she was really using all her strength to carry him. After just a few seconds they were upstairs and he was lowered onto the changing mat. “Let’s take your hoodie off just in case” she said as she helped him take the hoodie off, leaving him in just a grey t-shirt, a soggy nappy and a pair of white socks. Charlie remained silent as his aunty got to work on wiping his bottom and cleaning any area that the nappy had made contact with. He had his eyes shut the whole time, not being able to bear the site of his aunty wiping poo off his bum. “There we go all clean, bet that feels better Charlie?” Emma asked as she wrapped up the dirty nappy and placed it on the floor. “Yeah it does thanks” he responded, not quite as embarrassed now the deed was done. “Now Charlie you have a choice. I can either put you back in your pants and you can head home, or I can get you into a clean nappy and I’ll call your mum telling her you’d like to stay for tea. What’ll it be?” Emma enquired as Charlie looked straight at her, with his light blue briefs in one hand and a folded Tena Slip Maxi in the other. He looked at both items. If he chose the pants, he’d potentially be waving away the chance to indulge further in his greatest fantasy. If he chose the nappy, he would be indicating to his aunty and mum that he was a baby at heart but would be harder to deal with when he inevitably went home and back to reality. It was a real dilemma. “Would it be okay to stay for tea?” Charlie answered. Safe to say his aunty wasn’t at all surprised by his answer. “Okay baby, I’ll call your mummy” Emma said as she smiled at her nephew.
  18. Awakenings: Day 1: Part 1. The sun's rays began to illuminate the dorm room through a gap in the curtains as it began to rise over the city. In the corner underneath by the wardrobe is a small sides workstation pink in colour scattered with figures, notes, pens and letters. In the middle of it is a laptop. The sunlight reflecting off of the screen. In bed opposite the desk lay Rachel a 19 year old girl, she has dark brown hair which looks like it has seen better days after a rough night's sleep. Her blankets are all messed up from her tossing and turning in the night. Revealing her purple pyjama top. Rachel starts to stir from her sleep moaning as she gets up. She walks into the ensuite and turns on the shower before looking at herself in the mirror. "Girl why do you always look like you have gone ten rounds with crocodile when you wake up?" Rachel grabs the bottom of her pyjama top and pulls it up over her head. Revealing her smallish size breasts. She looks down at her full nappy from the night and begins to pull the tapes off before then throwing it in the bin. Rachel steps into the spray and mist of the hot water raining down from the shower tilting her neck back as the water bounces off her leaving beads just running down her skin. She grabs a sponge and showergel and starts getting to work on her upper body massaging the gel into her skin with the sponge. As she is doing this a stream of urine starts flowing out of her vagina and down her smooth legs and splashing on the floor of the shower. Rachel continues to wash her body moving onto her arms fully aware of the sensation below, knowing she is peeing herself in a shower and completely unable to stop herself even if she wanted to after the choice she made. As she finishes peeing she moves down to her legs and lower body with the sponge. Once she washed her hair Rachel exits the shower and turns it off. She grabs a towel to dry off body once she is done she wraps it around her head she grabs a second towel and ties it around her waist to act as a temporary nappy while she dries her hair. Rachel walks out of the ensuite and grabs her brush and dryer before sitting on the bed. She throws the towel off and starts brushing her long damp mop of hair. While brushing her hair mind wanders off towards thoughts of some of the meetings she will be having over the course of the next few days as she gets ready to start her first year at university studying art. Rachel is equal parts nervous and excited for what the year will hold the opportunities presented through the course, meeting new friends. Once Rachel finished drying her hair she got up walking over to her wardrobe and opened it. Inside were all her clothes and all of her nappies. She throws a top and a short skirt over onto her bed before rummaging through her nappies looking for today's selection. She pulled out a couple of her rearz nappies a pink one with princesses and ponies on it and a white and blue one with monsters on it. She also picked out a standard medical looking one she bought the other day, ready for a meeting she was gonna have and one my diaper colour a white nappy with pink and blue colours just in case she needed a spare. She put the rearz Princess on the bed ready to be put on and the others aside to go into her nappy bag. Rachel grabs the bottle of baby powder from the floor and unfolds her nappy. She places herself on it and removes her makeshift one. She the. Powders her nappy area before taking her time to pull the nappy through her legs and taping it in place. Now secure in a nappy she grabs her clothes and throws them on making sure the nappy is hidden underneath. Rachel proceeds to grab all her things and shove them into the relevant part of her bag university stuff and phone and money in the front nappies and changing supplies in the back of the bag. Once her bag is zipped up she grabs it and her keys and heads out for the first day at university. end of part one: yes it's short that's down to my issues with dyslexia and dyspraxia. This is the first part of an arch that will last 5-6 parts all about Rachel's first day at university.
  19. Mahmoud – the shaver He arrived exactly at the time specified and I opened the door to find a rather good looking, dark skinned, 24 year-old on my doorstep carrying a holdall. As he entered he smiled a dazzling smile that immediately put me at ease and we shook hands. He told me his name was Mahmoud and that’s what I should call him if I felt the need to speak. However, he wanted to get straight down to what he’d come for and told me to go and shower. I told him I’d had one earlier but he insisted that I go again - As the hot water would soften the bristles as he shaved my hairy bollocks. He told me to turn off any mobile, music etc. as he didn’t want any distractions and sent me off to the bathroom. Meanwhile, he would prepare the area and get himself ready. This was a first for me. I’d seen his advert on a specialist site online for ‘Pubic Shaving’ and it appealed. The thought of someone else doing something so intimate had got my thoughts going mad and the excitement at the prospect had made sure I booked my new visitor at the earliest opportunity. The fact he took charge was a bonus and, even though I was a good ten years older and had six inches in height, it was good for me to know my place. # I spent about ten minutes making sure every part of my body got a good hot soaking and when I returned to the living room Mahmoud had laid out a huge thick white towel, as well as his shaving items and massage oils. He was also naked except for a shiny thick metal cock ring that was held in place by three leather straps; a thick one around his waist and thinner ones around the top of each thigh. His cock was pushed out by the ring but in truth didn’t appear to be that large or threatening. However, with his slim toned body the overall look was absolutely stunning and I settled down naked on the towel to let him get to work. Firstly he trimmed my thick pubic bush with a pair of scissors and when that was down to a manageable length he foamed up a rich lather spreading it all over my cock and balls. The feeling was of the most exquisite sensuality and of course my cock began to grow. I don’t have a particular large cock but it was firming up nicely as he ministered the foam and applied his razor. He was slow, methodical and intense, whilst replying in a soft whisper to all the questions I wanted to ask. Despite him saying he didn’t want any distractions he was far too polite to tell me to shut up. Manners and good looks – what could be better? “What country are you from originally?” “Iran.” “What are you doing in England?” “At the University studying agriculture, bio chemistry and English.” “What made you start doing this shaving… um… thing?” I struggled to find the correct description for what was happening. “My father taught me. We do this in the village where I come from. It is a tradition that the older men keep their genitals free of hair. The reason for this is steeped in folklore and is a bit too confusing for Westerners to understand.” I could tell he didn’t want to take the explanation any further and in all honesty my conversation was coming to a close as with each stroke of the razor my cock throbbed with delight. # He took over an hour stripping each and every hair from my cock and balls and made a neat leveled-off pattern around the top of my thighs. With every small or long stroke from his cut throat razor his finger, finger nail, palm or the edge of his instrument would gently rub and stimulate my hard-on even more. My mind was doing loops of desire and excitement as the thrill-factor seemed to increase but no offer for release was presented. I happily throbbed, pulsed and sweated manfully as he cleared my pubes to produce a stunningly smooth and utterly hairless surface. I don’t think I’ve ever been so naked apart from when I was a baby and the soft white area made my cock look even bigger, more proud and an absolute stonking organ anyone would have been proud to own. As he rubbed some sweet smelling liquid into the newly shaved area he just told me that this would take away any possible razor burns my skin might react to and would make it so the area remains silky soft and smooth for quite some time. I loved what he’d done and was all set to offer my thanks and let him be on his way… except he told me the job wasn’t over yet and that I should turn over. He told me that all my hair should come off and that included the great hairy tufts that surrounded my arse. I wasn’t going to complain. I looked at his cock and it had grown to a cute size itself, about four inches, and jerked up and down as he set about lathering up my bum. For all the sensuality that he had given my cock and balls I wasn’t quite ready for the thrilling feelings that my bum soon enjoyed. The foamy brush tickled and teased my very being as he lathered up my puckered and tight hole. Again he took ages and was concentrating even more on dispensing with the hair but making sure not to cut into the vulnerable skin. Under me my cock was as stiff as ever and I desperately wanted to shoot my load all over the thick white towel… and then some more… but another hour was spent keeping me on the very sexual edge as he slowly sliced away at the tight hairs that seemed to take an age to get rid of. I closed my eyes and gave way to all those exquisite calm feelings flowing over me and I drifted sleepily in between consciousness and unconsciousness. I came out of a fantastic relaxing dream and felt him soothing more oils into my naked bum and massaging my bum cheeks; his small brown fingers occasionally slipping and tickling my hole. First one digit, then a tickle followed by a slightly deeper probe and another graze from an errant finger nail, my God, this feeling was utterly amazing. In all my life I had never been fucked but this attention to my hole was such an unbelievable turn on I began to think about the possibilities. His hands came together as if in prayer and he formed a thicker digit by pressing two fingers together and pushing into my arse. I opened up to receive whatever it was and I felt the thickness increase as he spent a few minutes oily massaging my sphincter muscle. Again he did this most methodically and I was aware that my hole was opening up under this gentle but insistent attack and wishing he had a cock to match the horny lustful thoughts that were spinning around in my brain. # He ordered me to get up on my hands and knees and I did so without thinking as I hoped he would now let me relieve my bubbling, cum-filled balls. The fingers that he’d just spent time massaging my hole were now wrapped over my eyes in a sort of pretend blindfold and he moved them down to my mouth and tenderly offered them each to be licked. Although he was not being pushy I felt I had no alternative but to suck on each one and when I did Mahmoud let out a small gasp of pleasure and satisfaction. Once licked and cleaned his hands moved down my body and stroked my hips, which had started to buck slightly as if I was fucking some invisible hole. My cock was hard and desperate for release and my bum hole was now on fire, whatever that lotion was had produced an incredible sensation that needed to be satiated. As he played with my hips I could feel his cock nudge at my hole and was pleased that he wanted to fuck me. I thought that it was the least I could do after the things he’d done for me and hoped that he would get some satisfaction out of it. The nudge at the entrance to my burning hole just held itself for a few seconds and I was desperate to ease myself back onto him. He gripped my hips and started to pull me back guiding his cute cock up past my hot ring. As I pushed back I suddenly felt my hole being stretched wide and, judging by the size of it I’d seen earlier, I guessed that I’d be backed up to his pelvic bone by now but the length just kept going. With each inch I was stretched even wider and Mahmoud encouraged me to take the whole thing as he said I was ready for it. He pulled me back some more and my love muscle gaped in wonder as this thick object pushed me even wider. I began to get nervous but Mahmoud encouraged me more and insisted that I didn’t touch my own cock but just make sure I stayed upright and on all fours. Like everything else so far from my Iranian friend, everything had been slow, definite and gentle but now, with this huge cock embedded deep in my gut he let out some Iranian words and began to fuck me hard and passionately. I screamed in surprise but the foreign words just kept tumbling from his mouth. At times it was like he was saying some kind of prayer and at others that he was calling on all his ancestors to join him in this marathon fuck. He may have been calling me names, swearing at me or just happy to be screwing a newly shaved arse I don’t know but what I did know was that I had to work really hard to stay on all fours as this slim-hipped young man powered away into me. # My cock exploded a torrent of cum all over the towel and I’d never seen so much gush out of my knob - spurt after spurt seemed to make a huge lake and still he fucked deep yelling at the top of his voice. My arms buckled and give way but my legs stayed where they were so he was fucking my butt as my chest lay in my own pool of warm milky juice. I begged him to stop but he obviously wasn’t anywhere near ready to unload so I just gritted my teeth and relaxed my hole as much as I could. For another 30 minutes he fucked (and I came twice more) eventually shouting, in Iranian, that he had arrived. My hole was stinging, hot, used, wide and hairless as he withdrew and although, at that moment I felt used, I was unbelievably satisfied. I’d never had, nor dreamt of having, a session of such intensity and I was immensely grateful… if more than a bit shagged out. After a couple of recovering minutes I turned to thank him and he was busy unscrewing a long, thick pink prosthetic cock from his cock ring. His own cock fit nicely inside it and I could see that he had eventually cum himself as the stuff was dripping from the object as he held it up for inspection He patted my bum. “Very nice Mister… thank you,” he said with that slight accent. “I have enjoyed myself immensely.” Naked, newly shaved and with a sore arse that was sore but glowing… I was really a bit stunned and just had this stupid, uncomprehending smile on my face. He quickly packed his stuff away, cleared up and put everything back into the backpack he arrived with. As he got dressed I noticed that he slipped into a pristine white disposable, which he taped into place without a thought. He pulled up his trousers and then grabbed his backpack, pulled out another neatly folded disposable and shook it out. I knew it was meant for me and recoiled at the very idea. “No?” he questioned as I shook my head telling him I wasn’t going to wear a nappy. “This is impregnated with exceptional botanicals and especially formulated talc from my village.” He fluffed it out and a small cloud of powder rose up. “This will keep you comfortable, whilst the soothing nature of all those ingredients will add to the pleasure your newly shaved areas will appreciate.” My half-hearted protests were ignored as he told me to lift and I did. Before fastening me in he squeezed some oily gel into the palm of his hand and slavered it all over the now nude areas. “This is to be used at every change.” I didn’t quite grasp what he meant. “It will keep hair growth down and moisturize the area and will add more sensitivity.” He smiled, “And you will love the sensations this little piece of padded bliss will offer.” With that he taped me in and handed over the small jar of the cream he’d just used. “Remember, apply it sparingly but at every change and the effect is better if you wear…” and he pointed to the fresh nappy. “I recommend that you keep that one on for at least twenty-four hours if you can. Use it for its purpose if necessary but the benefit will be greater the longer you leave it on… give everything time to take effect. I can guarantee you’ll love the benefits.” I tried to tell him I wouldn’t be replacing the damn thing but he just smiled, shushed me and told me to close my eyes, relax and let my body, not my mind, do the thinking. Perhaps strangely I was still under his spell and as he let himself out, having taken the money I’d left as payment on the side table, I let myself feel the soft padded comfort of the disposable gently envelop my mind as well as my groin. He was correct, the padding was comforting and the newly shaved areas seemed to be aglow with sensitivity. I didn’t have to touch anything yet could feel the soothing unguents doing their job, seeping into my skin to make me shiver in delight. Whatever was in that stuff was quite powerful and soon my entire body was aflame and euphoric? I stood up and walked to the mirror in the bathroom. I assumed the reflection would endorse what I thought about wearing a nappy but no, I was wrong. The tight fitting piece of layered material hugged and comforted me and bizarrely looked and felt like it was needed. I had to do some appraising and realized that I wanted all of this to happen. I wanted someone to take charge and treat me in the way Mahmoud had done. I loved the reflection and the fact that the nappy was hugging me tightly so why would I want anything else? So, despite my initial reaction to wearing padding I now saw it as a positive that went with having a shaved groin. The fabric caressed my shaved cock, balls and arse and it was electric. It was only different underwear to what I was used to and who’s to say, this style was any worse. I ran my hand over the soft padding and it felt really nice and soft but in my head I could think of nothing except this was the correct item to wear for a recently shaved, baby soft guy like me. Mahmoud was correct the nappy was all part of the process and I didn’t want to lose that feeling. I was hooked so the nappy stayed. ********
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