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Ethan’s Worries “It’s up to you, but that’s the option being offered.” Jessica Lynd was trying to be understanding but firm with her son. “But it’s not fair.” “I think it is. You’re being given the choice of acting like an eleven year-old and making your own decisions or being treated as a little boy who needs others to make the decisions for him. So, what’s it going to be?” He was standing in front of mother in his bedroom and the moment had arrived when his world was about to change. It was a hard decision for Ethan to make because no matter what he picked, he’d end up wearing a nappy to bed. # Although there were a couple of weeks left before the new academic year, where he moved up to seventh grade, he was nervous about this huge leap to Big School. The night before he’d had an awful, unsettling dream, which ended with a soaked bed and the last time that had happened was when he was a four year-old. He’d woken up full of guilt, embarrassment and shame but his mother had merely told him that she would sort everything out and for him not to worry. He’d had a relatively carefree day playing out with his friends as usual, enjoying the last days of freedom before school started. He hadn’t mentioned to any of his mates that he was so scared of starting the new term he’d wet the bed and it didn’t occur to him that any of them might be having similar concerns. Bedwetting wasn’t something eleven year-olds discussed. Anyway, it was 10pm and time for bed. He knew this late bedtime would change soon because his mum had told him he needed to get used to a school, rather than a holiday schedule and that meant in bed by 9pm at the latest. Meanwhile, she followed him upstairs and, after he’d washed his face and brushed his teeth, she was waiting for him. Spread out on his bed was a thick white square of material, pins, a length of something pre-folded and a pair of slinky white plastic pants. In her hand was a bottle of lotion. “Ethan, you need to know that your father and I have discussed what happened last night and have made provisions for such an event.” “But mum...” Jessica held up her hand to prevent further discussion. “Listen first and then you can have your say.” She looked sternly at her son for any further interruptions. Pleased that he seemed to comply she continued. “We realise that the next few days, possibly weeks, are going to see a huge change for you. I can guess that you’re quite apprehensive about starting at the new school with older boys and girls, different teachers, but you shouldn’t... everything will be fine.” She ruffled his hair in motherly reassurance. “However, we think last night’s wetting was a sign that you’re possibly a bit agitated about this and we’re worried it might happen again.” He didn’t know how his mother could have known that but supposed parents have some sort of sense when it comes to their kids. Ethan was about to voice a denial but again she gave him a look that implied she hadn’t finished and should wait. He did. “So, tonight you will wear a nappy and these plastic pants. However, should you wake up dry over the next few days leading up to school we’ll say no more about it.” She saw him shiver at the thought as he stood silently. “This is not a request... this is what’s going to happen. If you create a problem or defy either your father or me... well... don’t... this is for your own good.” Again he wanted to speak but thought better of it. “We know this may seem an embarrassing thing to do to someone your age and, under normal circumstances we’d agree. However...” she said stressing the word, “a boy your age doesn’t normally wet the bed for no reason... so, to prevent your PJs, bedding and the mattress all getting ruined, this is the simplest solution to your problem.” Again she stressed a word, this time ‘your’, to make sure he was aware it was his problem. “If you refuse to wear the nappy, which I suspect is what you’re thinking... think again. Your father and I are adamant that this is merely as a precaution. However, should you think of wearing it and then taking it off without our say so, we won’t be pleased and you’ll be made to wear a nappy all the time.” She looked in his face to see an expression of complete horror... it seemed a terrible punishment for an ‘accident’. “Mum, this isn’t fair. It was an accident and I shouldn’t be made into a baby...” There was an inner seething but, if pushed, he’d have to admit that he’d hated waking up to a soaked bed and knew his parents weren’t doing this as a punishment. However, that didn’t make the prospect, at eleven years old and wearing a nappy, any better. As if reading his thoughts she added. “You are not being made into anything except a young man who happened to wet the bed, and who’s taking sensible precautions to make sure it doesn’t happen again. What could be more grown up than that?” She shrugged her shoulders, “Look, I’m asking you to make the decision rather than we make it for you...” Ethan interrupted thinking of a different reason not to wear the protection that surrounded him. “But it’s not fair, what’s Cindy going to say? She’ll tell everyone at school.” “Well, your sister isn’t going to be at the same school as you is she?” “But she’ll tell all her friends and they’ll tell their friends and soon everyone will know.” Ethan was hyperventilating. “No she won’t because if she does... she’ll be wearing a nappy as well.” This bit of information wasn’t expected but seemed to calm her son down a little. “Look, it’s only at night and, as I say, if you can go the next week or so without wetting again then everything will revert to normal. But, we are NOT taking that chance right now. So,” she pointed to the waiting material on his bed, “let’s get you sorted shall we?” # Although Ethan was loathed to admit to his growing apprehension, it had been something his parents suspected might happen. Their son had always been a bit of a worrier and because of the wet bed they’d read up on some of the ‘fears’ kids can have when they move school or go into a new class. On this occasion, Ethan was looking to do both and although he’d have friends who’d also be making the move, they could see the anxiety in their boy’s demeanour. They were prepared and thought if they played it down and acted as if this was quite a natural occurrence then he’d be over it quickly. The first objective, getting him into a night time nappy was being achieved, but now they’d started, they’d have to wait and see if their approach was successful. If their boy was suffering from acute anxiety, this was a simple and easy fix if he was soon past it. The downside to this was... it may cause him further anxiety. “So what’s it going to be... do you voluntarily want to wear a nappy to sleep in... or...?” Ethan reluctantly nodded his acquiescence. “Good lad,” beamed his mother, “the correct choice.” # Ethan grudgingly let his mother rub in the lotion she’d been holding since the beginning. “This... should you wet again... and this is only an insurance... is to prevent any pee-induced rash.” She smiled reassuringly as she rubbed it in. “But mum... a nappy rash.... it’s what babies get.” “Look,” she stroked his bare arm in encouragement, “we want you to be as safe as possible and, we’re trying to anticipate any... problems... before they occur. This is for your own good and I don’t want you thinking that it is demeaning or anything else for that matter. You will not change,” she beamed her approval. “You’re still our rambunctious little monkey and we’re only adding suitable protection to the mix.” She was trying to downplay it and also be encouraging but Ethan looked unconvinced. ‘Rambunctious little monkey!’ Mum, I’m eleven not three he wanted to say in exasperation but stayed quiet after all, he was being slipped into a nappy. He gathered that any discussion was over and the more fuss he made the worse it would be for him. He wasn’t stupid enough to test those boundaries as he knew where they’d been set. The only problem his parents hadn’t seemed to grasp was – this treatment made him even more edgy. “Now let me get this nappy in position and you can get into bed and read for a little while but I want you to get used to earlier bedtimes over the next few days. You won’t be going to bed this late on a school night.” Of course it was at that precise moment his young sister, who was supposed to be fast asleep by now, decided to poke her head around his bedroom door. “Mum... I was... is Ethan wearing a nappy?” She giggled hardly believing her eyes. A huge sigh was his only reaction because his legs were in the air as his mother shook some baby powder over his naked bottom before threading the thick nappy, complete with a the enclosed pre-folded soaker pad, up between his thighs. “Mummm.” He tried to suppress his shame and annoyance at the same time. His mother just carried on as if the interruption was of no significance. “Stop worrying she’s bound to find out eventually... so you might as well get it over with.” Cindy stood in the doorway watching as he was pinned in and leak-proof glossy plastic pants pulled up to cover the pristine, though highly visible, white fabric. Ethan was red with embarrassment but there was simply no place to hide... and besides, she’d seen him now. “I like your baby pants.” She giggled. “I can’t wait to tell...” Then in a sing-song fashion began “Ethan’s my baby brother, Ethan’s my baby brother.” Jessica gave her a look that was supposed to convey a warning. Ethan was stung by the chant and both angry and tearful at the same time. His lower half felt heavy with the huge new addition to his sleeping arrangements fastened tightly in place. The anxiety that had been only partially hidden broke to the surface and he thought about ripping it off in protest but then he’d be left looking like a naked little boy throwing a tantrum, which would have given his sister even more reason to make fun. “Mummm, she’s, she’s...” He tried to conceal his plastic pants behind his hands but they were just too voluminous to hide. “Ethan’s my baby brother, Ethan’s my baby brother...” she continued to sing to herself. Jessica helped pull up his pyjama bottoms and cover the thick padding. “That’s enough Cindy. There will be no telling anyone about this... do you understand?” She waited for her daughter to reply but she just stood in her nightie, swaying from side to side, confident of her power over her older brother and with a huge smirk on her face. “Let me tell you young lady... if word gets back that you’ve been spreading gossip... it won’t be just your brother who’ll be wearing a nappy... you’ll be wearing them to school.” Cindy’s face turned from a happy smile to a worried and disbelieving look of horror. “That’s not fair.” She commented with a stamp of her bare foot. “Well, you and your brother have something in common because he said exactly the same thing.” “But mummy, that’s not...” she was almost in tears. “Those are the rules. You spread any gossip and you’ll be wearing a nappy to school as well as for bed. Do you understand?” She looked from one to the other and saw their spirits dip. “Now, at the moment this isn’t a punishment it’s a precaution BUT if your father or I have any reason to suspect either of you two being anything but supportive of each other, then it will be nappies 24/7.” She emphasised those numbers so there would be no doubt. Ethan already had this speech and knew he couldn’t argue. Once in bed, and he’d squirmed around trying to get used to the thick barrier he was now wearing, his mind fixed on his sister Cindy. He knew she wouldn’t be able to contain her gossip about him wearing a nappy and hoped that their parents would keep to their word should she break that trust. For Ethan this was the start of nightly nappies. He didn’t want it but, as the following morning he woke up sodden, he saw the wisdom of his parent’s argument. Two nights in a row but this time only his nappy was soaked. # Cindy watched as her brother’s thick padding had been hidden behind his PJs, which was a shame as she wanted to look a lot longer as it did make him look like a naughty little boy. In her eyes at least, he was now her little baby brother who had to wear a nappy and that meant she was the grown up... well... in comparison. She hadn’t liked the threat her mother made and was determined that it would be only her brother who wore such a babyish item but, this was such a great opportunity to ridicule him and she didn’t like that she couldn’t. She had to find a way of doing so without inviting her parent’s wrath. Several scenarios filled her young calculating head. Inviting her friends over but as he was only going to be wearing at night, she could hardly invite them then. Her bedtime was before his so... she had to be cleverer than that – a sleepover perhaps? However, there was a chance that after a week, if he’d not wet his nappy and woke up every morning dry, he wouldn’t be wearing one again anyway. Perhaps that’s where his humiliation should be aimed – making sure he had to wear his ‘baby stuff’ every night. Now... how could she make that happen? #tbc#

Part 1 ‘London St. Pancras to Disneyland Paris Departing 11:04am - Check-In now open’ Cameron read as he glanced up at the information board while walking through the automatic doors. He was looking forward to going on his first holiday with his girlfriend Ellie after 3 tough years at University. As this was his first time abroad without any family with him, it made him feel like he was finally growing up and beginning a ‘normal’ life. What everyone else didn’t know was that this holiday would be anything but normal. It had been just over 2 years since Cameron confessed to his girlfriend that he was ABDL. He’d known since he was a kid and had never been able to fully understand and accept what he was, but after meeting Ellie in his first year at Uni he couldn’t hide it any longer. After the initial shock Ellie grew to accept his fetish and in the last year she’s allowed him to indulge in the ABDL lifestyle and he has been wearing nappies on and off in private ever since, and she’s even began to enjoy her new role in their relationship. Cameron had worn nappies in public only a few times but once they had both finished University Ellie wanted to have a holiday where Cameron would be in nappies 24/7, as it meant they’d not bump into anyone they knew. “Come on Cam get your bags up” she instructed as she lifted their large suitcase containing both of their clothes onto the conveyor belt. He took off his backpack and lifted the other smaller suitcase up, this one containing all of Cameron’s supplies for the 4 day trip, including a selection of Nappies and supplies. Cameron was nervous that the metal detector he had to walk though would go off and the station security would have to pat him down, giving away the fact he was wearing a Cuddlz Adult Nappy under his grey jogging bottoms. Luckily he got away with it and they both got through security without any problems. They entered the main departure lounge Cameron was thankful that it wasn’t too busy, it was around half full with mostly families and small children; they were going to Disneyland after all. “Right Cam you go and sit over there and I’ll get us some breakfast, are you hungry?” Ellie asked him. “Starving, could I have a cinammon bun and a hot chocolate please?” Cameron replied, he is usually a very healthy eater but as he was on holiday he thought he’d treat himself. “Hmmm okay baby just this once though. Can you handle the bags?” she asked him moving her suitcase next to his. He nodded and she pecked him on the cheek before walking over to the cafe on the other side of the lounge. Cameron pushed the two suitcases over to a sofa away from the other families and sat down, making sure to pull his Mickey Mouse hoodie down so the nappy poking out of his joggers wasn’t exposed. Ellie decided to choose what he wore on the holiday and chose clothes as childish as possible, giving the reason that most people at Disneyland would be dressed the same, although he had his doubts. after few minutes Ellie came back with some drinks and breakfast for both of them as well as a carrier bag with some sweets for the train journey. “There you go baby, please try not to spill it on your lovely new jumper or I’ll have to buy a bib for you! How’s your nappy doing?” She asked. Cameron’s face went bright red and urgently looked around to see if anyone had heard her. ”Ellie please keep your voice down, I don’t want anyone to hear” he pleaded. “Oh come on Cam you know the rules for the next few days” she said as she sat down next to him. “I’m in charge on this trip and you’re my baby, and although I won’t go over the top when we’re in public I still want you to stay in the right headspace”. Ellie proceeded to lean over and feel around his crotch, and he quickly pushed his legs together and pushed her hands away, “Ellie stop someone will see!” She sat back and grabbed her coffee off the table, “still dry I think, and if you don’t stop with the attitude I’ll have to get your dummy out” she warned. This certainly put Cameron in his place and he soon went back on his phone and ate his breakfast in relative silence. Half an hour later an announcement that the train had began boarding was played and they both moved over to the escalators to the platform. Cameron looked around at all of the kids excited to be going to Disneyland and wondered how many of them were wearing nappies just like him. Admittedly he was excited about the next few days, being able to fully indulge in his fantasy without having to be too worried about being seen by anyone he knew. Plus he absolutely loved Disneyland. Due to the train being relatively quiet it wasn’t long until they were in their seats ready for the journey ahead. Cameron could only see a handful of families and a few couples in the carriage so he felt like he could relax. “Right Cam we’ll be on the train for a few hours so shall we get the iPad out and watch a film? I’m thinking to get us in the mood we watch a Disney film what do you say?” Ellie asked him. “Yes please! Can we watch The Lion King?” he replied. It was his favourite and he’d seen it hundreds of times and it always helped him get into his ABDL space. “Sure, put one of these in your ear and snuggle down” she said as she passed him one of the earphones. He leaned back in his seat and rested his head on Ellie’s shoulder. About two thirds of the way into the film he felt the need to go to the toilet, and although he was slightly apprehensive he let began to let a stream of wee into his nappy. It was such a relief and he knew Ellie wouldn’t let him use the toilet so he thought he may as well make the most of the situation. Once he was done he looked down and saw that his crotch was considerably puffier than it was before, and the grey jogging bottoms didn’t exactly help. The film soon finished and as he looked out the window and could tell he was in France. They were so engrossed in the film they hardly noticed the time and it wouldn’t be long until they reached Disneyland, and nearly on queue they heard an announcement that they’d soon be arriving. Cameron’s attention quickly turned to the state of his nappy and as he readjusted himself in his seat he could tell it was pretty wet. “Ellie” he said looking over at his girlfriend who was packing up the iPad and putting back in his backpack, “yes sweetie what is it?” She asked. ”Umm, I’ve...” before he could finish his sentence Ellie interrupted him. “Have you done a wee wee?” she enquired. Cameron saw her look down at his crotch, “oh dear certainly looks like it. We’ll be getting off soon so just hang in there and I’ll change you when we get to the hotel okay?” she said as she stroked his hair. Cameron thought about protesting but it was probably for the best, both of them trying to change his nappy in the cramped train toilets wouldn’t be the most comfortable experience. As Cameron stared out the window he could see the top of the sleeping beauty castle and space mountain appear above the tree line. “We’ll wait until everyone else has got off so we can avoid the rush” Ellie said as the train pulled into the station. Cameron watched as the excited children piled off the train, and admittedly it did begin to hype him up a bit for the holiday. ”Right can you get the smaller suitcase and I’ll grab the big one” Ellie asked as she gestured under the seat where they’d placed the bag. As Cameron stood up he could see his puffed out backside in the reflection of the window, his wee on the journey had made his nappy considerably bigger and he began to get paranoid that people could tell he was wearing a nappy. Cameron began walking towards the vestibule as Ellie reached for the bigger suitcase in the above seat storage. As she did her handbag slipped from her shoulder slightly and was completely unaware that Cameron’s dummy, that she’d threatened him with at the station, had fallen onto the floor. As they both walked towards the doors, she felt a tap on the shoulder and as she turned around, she saw a two women stood behind her holding Cameron’s baby blue dummy. “Excuse me, I think you dropped this” the woman said.

Pink and co It was pitch-black and I could feel there was danger lurking. I heard a soft, distant groan and immediately stopped to listen. I wasn’t sure what I was doing because although I could see nothing I sensed there was some kind of peril close by, which I desperately needed to avoid. My heart was pounding and the painful drumming in my head made it feel like I was carrying a heavy weight - like someone had just tied an anvil to it and told me to lift. This feeling of disorientation was making me anxious. Despite the dark surroundings I knew that an even darker area waited just beyond what I couldn’t see... I sensed it. There was an unbelievable feeling of foreboding as a louder groan reached my over-worked hearing. I wasn’t moving except for my head slowly turning this way and that to see if I could pick up any further sounds or at least get an idea from where the sound was emanating. My senses were working but at different levels. Unfortunately the dread was only aggravating the throbbing in my head. I worried that something evil was waiting – something I couldn’t see, something vicious... something... There was a further, even louder groan and a shiver of fear ripped through my body. I could feel my bladder already giving way and my arse muscle wanted to do the same. I clamped shut but another even louder sound took away my concentration and for that brief lack of anal attention, all hell broke loose from my rear. # Disorientated I woke up from deep under my covers panting for air and desperately striving to find the fresh variety. It was still dark. My mind couldn’t focus... I reached out and tried to make contact with my mobile, eventually my fingers slipped over the slim metal surface and I pressed the button – 00:14. Christ, I’d only been in bed two hours and I’d done... this. I heard another groan; it was my stomach complaining about something inside. So now I had at least identified the disturbing scary sound. Unfortunately, just a few moments later, and without ceremony, and this time with my full knowledge, a second deluge exited my body. This time the toxic fumes engulfed the room but it mattered little as I was feeling very ill. I hesitantly threw back the sheet and searched for the bedside lamp to switch on; the darkness disappeared and left me with the familiarity of my bedroom. It still felt a little bit unreal as my mind tried to focus. Meanwhile, my favourite manic looking rock god was looking down with an arrogant grimace, as if finding joy in my shitty situation. I’m sure he would, but I didn’t, I just felt dirty but lacked the initial impetus to get up and change... the heavy ‘anvil’ made rising very difficult. Holding my throbbing head didn’t help at all. # The expulsion of such a foul mass had left me fearful, ashamed, anxious and drained of any sense of being anything more than a helpless child. This was no way to start a Sunday morning even if it was only just into Sunday. Thankfully, the bedding would remain untainted because for the past few weeks mum had made me sleep in protection because of a sudden bout of wetting. Then I did a quick check... oh no... last night I didn’t wear anything. I lay there thinking that she’d be over-the-moon at my current situation and be all ‘I told you so” in my face. For the past fortnight I’d tried to talk my way out of having to wear any form of padding, thinking that my occasional wet morning was simply a passing accident that needed no remedy as it was only passing... but mum had insisted. She wasn’t to know that I’d slipped out of her protection on more than one occasion but barely managed to get to the toilet in time. A few times my pyjamas were soaked but I managed to hide that fact. I heard movement. Mum must have heard me or seen the light on under the door and I could hear her feet padding on the carpet heading my way. There was no way I could hide what had happened, the growing smelly atmosphere of my shitty deposit leaving no excuse. Without a knock the door swung open and mum and my sister stood there only a brief second before they barged in to take charge. “Are you ok?” Mum glowered as the smell hit her. “Well young man, it seems we were right and you were wrong.” My older sister had her hands on her hips as she added contemptuously. “For Christ’s sake Pink... all that screaming... get control... you big baby.” I lay there feeling useless as the two women in my life took charge. I hadn’t realised it but I must have let out a scream for them both to have come to my aid. Now however, they just looked on in disgust. Penny, my 16 year-old sister, regarded me as if to say “Well you’ve done it this time”, whilst mum made the practical move of opening all the windows. She said, “We’ll get you cleaned up but,” then added with more than a hint of threat, “if you think you aren’t wearing a nappy for the next few days you’re sadly out of touch with reality.” Being guided to the bathroom was like being led to my execution; my head was throbbing and my legs could have been in chains the way I uneasily shuffled the few feet from one room to the other. ## It was me who came up with calling my brother ‘Pink’ because when I was first introduced to him at the hospital he was only a few hours old. Mum said “Here’s your new baby brother” and I said “He’s all Pink”, which he was. Later, when I saw him again he had a pale pink Babygro on but dark pink mittens, bootees and bonnet... and again I called him ‘Pink’ every time I saw him. I think they thought it was ‘cute’ but the name caught on and soon everyone was using it. I’d started kindergarten when he and mummy arrived home but daddy had got all my old baby clothes out for him. Perhaps not surprisingly, and as the family weren’t as well off as we are now, my old babywear was simply recycled to service my new little brother despite there being a lot of girly colours in the range. Over the next few months he wore my old stuff, much of which was in several shades of ‘baby girl’ pink, although the nappies were made of a white terry cotton fabric. As a baby I had several little smocks, which made access to change my nappy easier. They were a lovely shade of pale red, cherry and crimson, which probably didn’t help much either. So, even though his real name is Thomas David Greenwood, the moniker Pink seemed to stick. Hi, I‘m his sister Penelope (Penny) Felicity Greenwood by the way. # For no reason we could ascertain a month or so ago Pink started waking up wet. Not too often to begin with but he’s been getting worse more recently. It was a surprise as he’s eleven and hadn’t wet the bed for eight years. However, it was getting worse so I complained to mum that Pink’s room was getting very smelly and that the odour of stale urine was reaching my room and suggested (what I thought was a reasonable suggestion) for her to put my brother in some protection to help contain the problem. Despite her almost daily having to strip his bed and do laundry, she hated the idea of asking him to wear a nappy at night. She thought it would be just too embarrassing for a boy his age to have to wear such a thing. I disagreed and thought it awful that a boy his age should be wetting the bed with no consequences but mum said she was happy to simply put up with it until his ‘problem’ was over. However, after a few mornings of the stench of pee I was livid. I thought he was not only pissing the bed but taking the piss as well, whilst taking full advantage of mum’s generous nature. Something else I noticed, although mum said she was happy to go along with daily laundry I could tell she was more than a bit fed up but wasn’t sure of a solution seeing as how she’d let it ride some time. A couple of weeks ago I got so frustrated I stormed into his room as he was getting up, the smell of his warm morning pee assaulting my nose, and accused him of being a selfish little brat. # Now, I don’t want you thinking that sister and brother were in a perpetual duel to see who could insult or humiliate the best, because on the whole we got on fine. Unfortunately, I was so wound up I was shouting and hurling curses in my fury. He looked shocked and stood there, his smelly wet boxers hanging from his hips and looking somewhat intimidated by my sudden angry verbal attack. I let him have both barrels as the ‘meek Penny’ decided enough was enough and I didn’t see why me, or the rest of the family, should suffer his childish bedwetting antics. Although I’m five years his senior (and of course had named him Pink) I don’t think I’d ever angrily let rip so viciously. Mum and dad heard the commotion and came up to placate the situation but I was in no mood. I accused them of letting him get away with being irresponsible and that his lack of any type of thought for anyone else was disgusting. I said I thought the least he could do if he was going to piss the bed was take some precautions to limit the damage. I went on in this vein for quite some time. It appeared I had a lot to get off my chest. I don’t think our parents had even thought about how Pink’s (yes even my parents called him that and so do all his friends, he doesn’t seem to mind the name he’s grown up with), bedwetting was affecting me. It had all been about how they didn’t want to make HIM feel bad about something he couldn’t help. Well now they knew exactly how I felt and I was persuasive enough for them to take my side in the argument, especially as he stood there looking ashamed and soaked. For a moment I did feel sorry for him as I’d never seen him look so broken by my verbal assault. Mum stripped the soaked bed, told him to remove his wet boxers and go get a shower but then said: “Your sister’s correct... from now on there will be changes”. That night mum had bought some disposables and plastic pants in his size and insisted that when he went to bed he should put them on. Of course he said he was eleven years old and had no intention of wearing them until dad had a quiet ‘man-to-man’ word with him. He reluctantly wore them and not surprisingly woke up soaked but his bedding was dry... and to my utter relief I noticed the morning smelly haze had been kept to a minimum. It had worked so, no matter how much he didn’t like the situation, both mum and dad understood now what was needed so made sure in future he was suitably attired for bed. ## Mum was washing down her eleven year-old son, me, who’d just crapped his pants whilst sleeping. I was so ashamed. She asked if I’d eaten or drank anything strange and it was then, through my aching head, that it hit what the probable cause was. Earlier, me and the lads had been having bit of an unsanctioned party in the woods. We’d all stolen something alcoholic from our homes and Pat had raided the freezer at his place and found packs of burgers and sausages at the bottom. He suggested that we make the ‘party’ more of a barbecue, so, between the four of us we had; eight cans of cider, four cans of lager, a couple of non-specific half empty bottles of spirits and something called Amaretto, which had been sitting untouched in the back of our kitchen cupboard for years. We’d set a campfire going and as Jimmy and Paggs were in the scouts, they devised a piece of netting to go over the flames on which to cook our frozen bounty. I think by the time we got around to eating, we were more than a little drunk on all the other stuff. However, that didn’t stop us enjoying the woozy moments as sausages and burgers looked ‘well done’ and probably okay for eating. They tasted burnt, but we were too far gone to really tell... it was all just high-spirited fun. Four eleven year olds; me, Pat, Paggs and Jimmy being so ‘grown-up’ downed our booze, urging each other on to take a sip of spirit or liqueur between slurps from the cans. None of us were going to refuse the challenge... even if it was the most awful combination going. Although feeling pretty tipsy, when I got home I think I hid what we’d been up to quite well and excused myself and went to bed around ten. I stripped and although a nappy was laid out ready, I was simply too sloshed to care so didn’t bother. I wasn’t feeling that well and the idea of actually doing something other than sleep was not going to happen. With indigestion, a swirling room and a feeling of sickness I slipped under my welcoming covers and immediately fell asleep. In the two hours from getting into bed and shitting myself I remember dreaming of the room spinning and being pulled into a dark black abyss. I felt sick but unable to move because all around I could hear the hungry groaning noises of wild animals... or so I thought. With what had just taken place, I would have been extremely glad for a nappy and tight plastic pants which would have prevented such embarrassment. Now, standing in the bathroom with both mum and Penny looking on, I felt like a stupid little kid who had no control. It was then that, with final massive groan, I leaned over the toilet and threw up whatever was left. # “I don’t know what you’ve been eating young man but it hasn’t agreed with you.” Mum was stating the obvious as she waited to see if there was anything else I needed to deposit in the toilet. Thankfully she didn’t press me but once I’d stopped retching, the full horror of what I’d deposited in my undies and toilet was revealed. Mum wasn’t squeamish like Penny and helped me out of the stinking messy bundle of soiled material and led me to the shower. Although I’m eleven and quite capable of washing myself mum decided I needed to be supported in the task as she took charge. I think my slurred speech and apologies didn’t help my case. Once that was complete I was guided back naked to my room and, without any dissent on my part, let her wrap me up in a thick nappy and watched through sleepy eyes as she pulled up a huge pair of opaque plastic pants. “There now... you should be okay for the night... but we’ll talk in the morning.” Mum turned off the light and I heard her mention to Penny that she could smell alcohol on my breath so I was in ‘BIG trouble’. ## Pink’s not a bad boy but I suspect, like a lot of eleven year olds, and boys in particular, he’s daft. I don’t think he knows he’s being stupid, or that there are consequences for his actions. However, mum was definitely not happy with this new development in her son’s behaviour, or the state of the bed, or having to clean up his shitty arse and him smelling like a vagrant. By Sunday morning proper she’d noticed the missing bottle of Amaretto and our neighbour Mrs Armitage had told her that Jimmy, her son, had arrived home heavily intoxicated and threw up all over the kitchen. According to her shamed and apologetic boy they’d been having a bit of a drinks party and barbecue... and he ended up not feeling at all well. His mother had consigned him to bed for the rest of the day and grounded for the rest of the week plus the following weekend. She was livid with him because she knew what a terror he’d become but “...things were going to change” she’d said with some determined authority. Bedtime was to be 8 o’clock every night and he wasn’t allowed any after-school projects. Now she knew what had happened mum was planning on something similar as punishment for Pink. She’d looked in on him at 9am and he was still asleep, she’d checked his nappy but he was dry. I checked in on him at 10.30 and he was just struggling to get up whilst complaining about his woozy head. He’d thrown back the duvet and I could see, even if he was yet unaware, it was another wet morning. I went down and told mum about him moaning about a headache and she said it was what he deserved having had a drunken night with his equally intoxicated eleven year-old mates. She wanted him to suffer, as a lesson, but knew she needed to make sure he knew why he was suffering and that his head was just the beginning of his worries. She quickly went upstairs to his room and told him to get himself down to the kitchen “NOW”. At the same time, she took away his phone - that was one privilege he was going to lose immediately. “I’ll be down in a minute... I need to organise my...” He tried to reason. “I said NOW... so don’t make it worse for yourself.” Mum had added a degree off command to her voice that Pink wasn’t used to. “You can walk by yourself or I can drag you... you decide which...” “Can’t I put some pants...?” “Now means now... so I suggest you stop stalling and move...” He got out of bed, his nappy wet and saggy in its plastic enclosure and made a move towards the door. He looked around for his phone but couldn’t remember if he’d had it with him. He’d be able to think once his head stopped hammering... he hoped. “Can’t I just...?” “Down to the kitchen... you’ve got a lot of explaining to do.” # The guilt of his drunken night, his stealing, his shitty bed and now soggy nappy, all added to his shame as he slowly waddled downstairs. There, sat at the table was his father and sister who were soon to be joined by his mother who’d gone to retrieve something else. He stood in the doorway shaking in nervous anticipation and wishing his head would stop throbbing... he wasn’t prepared for whatever was about to happen. ## Mum had already prepared dad and me as to what she was thinking. She’d had conversations with a couple of the parents of his mates he’d been out partying with and found out that all had arrived home in a terrible state. They hadn’t gone into too much detail but between them it was thought boys of their age shouldn’t be getting drunk when they knew it was wrong so... a serious penalty was the order of the day. Grounding was going to be the main punishment and an early bed time. Each parent was also going to add their own penance and mum had discussed what she had in mind and got both dad and me to agree. I didn’t think that Pink was going to enjoy the next part of the conversation but knew after last night that he’d have very little option if he wanted some kind of social life. ## I knew from mum’s tone of voice I was in some trouble and detected it wasn’t just because I’d crapped the bed last night. I didn’t know what she knew about me being drunk or what me and the lads had got up to but I suspected that I was about to find out. I stood at the kitchen doorway, soaked nappy sagging and dad and Penny looking at me half in humour and half in disgust. “Wait there until you mum gets here.” Dad said sternly. So I knew I was in trouble as I can normally rely on him to take my side in an argument. “You look pathetic,” Penny added with an evil grin. I knew then and there that if whatever happens was up to her I’d be in deep do-dos by now. Mum swished past me carrying a pile of stuff. “Right Pink you are in serious trouble. Here’s what we know because I don’t want to give you the opportunity to lie and make things worse. However, should you lie to me at any point over the period of your punishment, that punishment will re-set and you’ll start all over again. Do you understand?” My saggy, soggy nappy was beginning to itch and feel most uncomfortable but I dare not touch or scratch the area. I looked at the assembled judges, my family, and decided I’d simply better not react badly to whatever was going to go down. I nodded. “For stealing alcohol – grounded for a week.” I thought I’d got off pretty leniently. “For having a drinking session in the woods and arriving home drunk... when you are only eleven years old – grounded for an extra two weeks.” “But mum haven’t I suffered...” “Shut up Pink... you’re in too deep to raise any objections and I’d advise you to stay quiet... for your own good.” Mum was threatening me in a typical mum way. She was calm and measured but I’d better take notice or as she said it would be a lot worse. “Not wearing your protection when that would have saved the bedding last night... grounded for a month.” My intake of breath meant that was huge blow and crippling for future plans. The injustice of it all, and, for the first time in many years, I wanted to cry but knew I’d brought this on myself. Even as we were in the woods and doing what we were doing I knew it was wrong and they’d be some sort of repercussions but I didn’t want to lose face with my mates. “For being totally irresponsible and acting like a baby... your bedtime protection has from this moment been advanced... to you wearing protection 24/7.” “But mum that’s stupid, I can’t wear a nappy to school and....” I pleaded. “What you can’t do Pink is have a say in this. You’ve made your own messy circumstances so now you get to enjoy the fruits of your own stupidity.” I saw Penny’s face light up and dad just looked serious. Mum I knew was serious and I had no idea how to go about changing her mind. “Please mum, dad, erm, I’m sorry... I swear I won’t do it again... it was just a bit of fun...” “I see, so messing your bed, ruining sheets and... everything... was all ‘a bit of fun’...?” Mum can be sarcastic when she wants. “Mum, Dad I’m sorry please don’t make me wear a nappy...” “You already wear one for sleeping in so, as a reminder of what you’ve done, and I’m sure your friends will be getting their own punishment because, no one is happy with any of you... so... this is the end of such behaviour.” “But mum...” She was carrying a bunch of stuff in her arms and I now realised it was for me. “Right, upstairs to the bathroom now, have a shower and then I’ll get you sorted for the day.” I was just about to turn and reluctantly do as mum said when Penny interrupted. “Mum, don’t you think he should have breakfast first?” “I suppose it makes more sense changing him after he’s eaten.” “Just in case he craps some more,” Penny added maliciously. “That’s enough of that young lady...” Mum gently admonished. “I’m not hungry.” I angrily interrupted. “No one is asking the baby of the family... you’ll do as you’re told when you’re told... understand.” “Baby?” What was mum talking about? Mum was in my face and it was that tone again that said... don’t you dare mess... I got it and sat down at the table. Mum poured cereal and splashed on some milk, filled a glass with orange juice and topped-up their coffee. I sat in my squishy nappy but that wasn’t the only thing that was uncomfortable... I could feel everyone’s disapproving eyes on me as I ate. I was desperate to make my case but decided, rather than feel mum’s wrath I’d wait for an opportunity to speak to dad separately. I was sure I could get him to be more reasonable. My body temperature seemed to rise and I could feel the heat making me go red with embarrassment. It was an awkward few minutes as I ate in silence whilst normal life went on. I was more than a bit worried about being grounded for so long but even more worried that mum meant her threat and I’d have to wear a nappy all day long from now on. I wondered if any of the other guys were facing such a horrible prospect. I was also hoping to find my phone so I could speak and find out what was happening to them. Unfortunately, I had no idea where I’d put it. # The throbbing in my head had subsided a little but was still making me wish I’d not drunk anything last night. My mouth, despite the cereal, felt like something awful had crawled in and deposited something nasty there. I really wasn’t functioning very well at all. I was debating with myself whether to apologise loudly and constantly in the hope of mum relenting her sentence, or keeping quiet and hoping my sadness and obvious hangover might work in my favour and garner some sympathy. I didn’t know what to do so I suffered in silence. When I’d finished my meal I got up to go but mum said that as I was the baby of the family I had to wait for an adult to give permission before I did anything... and that included leaving the table. There she’d said it again baby... what was that about? “Muummm please be reasonable.” I begged through tears that suddenly appeared without warning. The pounding head returned with my sudden plea. “Let me make it perfectly clear if I haven’t already Pink... from now on you will be treated like a small child as if you don’t know right from wrong. You’ve put us through enough recently and this last act of stupidity is the final straw. You will follow any and all instruction that we three give you.” She pointed to herself, dad and Penny. “But why Penny I argued.” “You’re arguing again and I’ve just told you not to so... your punishment is being increased by a further week.” Oh god... two months of... I didn’t really want to think about it. I realised I was in a terrible situation and the tears that had been hanging waiting suddenly enveloped me. “Muummm.” I begged one last time but knew that there was no further discussion on the subject. My confidence slumped and any thoughts of being my age disappeared when mum made her next announcement. “I’ll tell you one more time, any argument with anyone and your punishment is increased by a week and your bedtime comes forward by half an hour.” “Muuuummm this is so unfair.” I sniffed quietly but knew the debate was over. She looked at me as if to say, that’s your final say, and it was. My tears fell like they did when I was a kid and had hurt myself, which in some ways I suppose I had. # I sat in a soaked nappy, crying and trying not to appear a big baby but it simply wasn’t working. I was totally distraught and had no idea what I could do to relieve the situation. I knew I’d been stupid and I couldn’t claim that I didn’t know what I was doing. When I thought about it – what was I thinking - that mum would never know or that the bottle of Amaretto wouldn’t be discovered missing? Now the tears fell because I was feeling sorry for myself but knew I had no response to what mum decided. Now she saw that I understood the gravity of the situation and that there’d be no backing out of it her fierce expression dropped to one of concern and motherliness. “Okay sweetie, we can all see you need a change so off you go to the bathroom and one of us will be up in a minute to help... there’s a good boy... off you go.” She tapped my sodden protection as I ambled dejectedly upstairs. I didn’t want to go. I was determined not to be treated this way. She was speaking to me like I was a toddler. I wasn’t going to put up with these rules... except... I was and I did. Unfair as I saw it I realised I had no option. Whatever my parents said or decided I was in no position to rile against. I’d made a complete mess of stuff and if my friends were also being punished I’d nowhere to go for any sympathy. I wish I had my phone to find out. I reluctantly traipsed upstairs and into my bedroom. Mum and dad had cleaned it up and even that awful smell from earlier had almost been got rid of. I was grateful for this and very glad I hadn’t been made to clean the place up myself. That’s when I realised I’d had my phone when I first woke up but someone had taken it. It slowly dawned on me that mum must have it and the chances of getting it back were slim to nil. By now I was really fed up of having to wear a soaked nappy and because mum didn’t say I shouldn’t I got rid of it as soon as I could, wrapped a towel around my waist and headed for the shower. I was quite angry with myself and, as I stood under the spray, kept telling myself off for being so reckless and thoughtless. I’m eleven years old... what was I thinking? I suspected, after all this, that I wouldn’t be able to get dad onside. I’d literally made my life a complete mess and had no one to blame but myself... well and Pat, Paggs and Jimmy... though I doubted they would be any help. ## When Pink returned from the shower I was waiting. I’d said to mum and dad that I would make sure he wore a nappy. Mum said it should be her but dad was on my side. “You’re the one who brought this to a head so perhaps you should be the one to do it... just so he knows his place...” “But darling, don’t you think he’ll be too embarrassed his sister taking control?” Mum seemed genuinely concerned but I was hoping dad wouldn’t relent. He didn’t. “He may be embarrassed but let’s face it... he has a great deal to be embarrassed about. No, we need to let him know that if he’d going to act like a silly little kid, that’s how he’ll be treated and his BIG sister will be there to help him through it.” “Well, if you’re sure dear.” I think after being so strict with him, she was glad that someone else was taking the lead. # When he came back I had all his stuff laid out and waiting. We don’t bother with church or anything like that on Sunday but, the weather was nice and we had plans. “Okay little bro... let’s get you ready for the rest of the day...” “Mummmm, why is Penny in my room?” He shouted angrily. There was no reply. “Daaadddd, why is...?” “You can stop that noise right away mister. Your sister is there to supervise you getting dressed because we don’t know that you can manage such a task on your own.” Dad was being unusually sarcastic. “You’ve acted like you don’t know the meaning of responsibility... well good for you because now you don’t have any. Perhaps, once she’s shown you how to wear a nappy properly we might let you try it yourself. Until then, your changes and choice of clothes will be supervised by any one of us... do you understand?” Dad didn’t say it threateningly but I think he made his point as I saw Pink physically shrink back into his towel. He nodded. “Good. Okay Penny, can you sort your little brother out and be ready in fifteen minutes please?” I have no idea what was going through my brother’s mind at that point but I bet he’d wished he hadn’t done what he did. # I slowly pulled away his wet towel and told him to lie on another dry towel I’d spread out on his bed. A waterproof mattress protector had been added to his bed after his first wet night, which made a rustling noise as he climbed on it. Mum had told me to make sure the anti-rash cream was laid on thick and then the powder. Of course I’d changed him before when he was an actual baby, and I’d done a fair bit of babysitting, so knew what was expected, although not for one as large as my brother. Still, he was now my baby brother so I was happy to get on with it. Well, happy might not be the right word but, as I started all of this I thought I’d better stay involved. Mum wanted to make sure he was in no doubt he was being punished for what he’d done but she didn’t want him to suffer because of a lack of care on our part. The expression on his face told me he was very unhappy about the situation but spoke not a word throughout the operation. He was very uncomfortable as I rubbed in the cream, especially around his bits and pieces and his bottom. He didn’t giggle as I sprayed loads of powder onto his crotch, which I hoped might relieve some of the tension. He just looked daggers as I flapped out a terry nappy and included a soaker pad before fitting it and pinning him tightly in. Mum had insisted he wear plastic pants and a nice new pair of sleek white ones waited to be shimmied up his legs. Once I’d done that I got him to stand and for the first time he could see what he looked like in the mirror. Although he’d had to wear a nappy at night this was the first time he’d had to wear one during the day and I knew it would be a bit daunting for him, so tried to relieve the tension yet again. “Looking good baby bro.” I whispered cheekily. He let out a huge irate sigh. I saw him look over to his jeans on the chair but mum had said he wasn’t going to be allowed anything that made him feel like a teenager. In fact, although he didn’t know it yet, mum’s plan was that when at home he was only to wear his nappy and plastic pants. She’d also indicated that if he acted up, he’d lose his shorts and he’d be wearing just protection even when he was out. She wasn’t going to put up with any argument from him and at the moment, that punishment looked like it would last two months. Meanwhile, I’d sorted a pair of loose-fitting fleecy shorts for him to wear, which I was sure would cover the offending article, but not completely hide it, a large pale blue t-shirt, a matching sweatshirt and helped him into them. I could see the resentment growing so stopped being the ‘nice’ sister and told him to behave as I could do without any attitude from a stupid baby. I could see he was desperate to retaliate in some way but dad called up to see if we were ready and it took the moment away. ## The instant I saw Penny waiting by my bed I knew things were going to be even worse than I expected. Dad having a go didn’t help and made me feel I was a complete and utter failure for behaving the way I had. Although I didn’t want my sister’s attention at least she didn’t appear to have it in for me and it was only later, when she whispered something about being a ‘baby’ that I lost it a little. I didn’t say anything but it was brewing. The nappy fitting was unbearable... I didn’t know where to look or how to react. When mum had done it the night before I was too pissed to be that bothered but now? Penny seemed to be enjoying her power and I knew it was her that had started this whole thing rolling. However, I just wanted for this to finish and then I could put my jeans on and hide the offending padding. “Why is mum doing this?” I sulkily asked hoping for perhaps a little sympathy. “Well Pink, you’ve been rather stupid and last night’s messy bed seemed to have pushed mum’s buttons because... I’ve never seen her so angry.” “But why nappies?” I whispered afraid at being overheard by mum. “I assume it’s because you didn’t wear one last night... AND... don’t forget... you’ve been wetting at night for a while now and it shows no sign of stopping.” “But that’s not my fault...” “Maybe not but you have been an absolute pain with mum rushing around cleaning up after you and not so much as a please or thank you... perhaps she thinks you take too much for granted.” She pressed the plastic pants to expel the air and made sure the fabric was tucked behind. “There. I think they suit you.” She was all smiles but I hated her at that second because she was being superior and up herself. However, when I saw that she’d already got clothes organized it suddenly struck me that I wasn’t going to get a choice and perhaps shorts were the best I could expect if mum regarded me as a silly little kid. The way Penny helped me into everything also sapped at my self-confidence... I was being treated as a helpless little kid. Anyway, I looked in the mirror and while I knew the thick cushion was there it didn’t show too much and I’d worn this outfit myself on several occasions so that was ok. Dad shouted for us to get a move on and although I was dressed and ready, I didn’t have a clue what for or where we were going. For the past couple of weeks wearing a nappy to sleep in, or to walk from bedroom to bathroom, hadn’t been too much of a problem but now I had to wear one for travelling more than a few yards, it did feel pretty strange. I was very aware of the extra padding, the slight rustle as I moved and the crinkle of the plastic pants with each step. This was going to be horrendous and desperately hoped mum and dad would have a re-think about this weird punishment. #### ...to be continued

Hi everyone, My name's Kimberley. So decided to join the forum after a long while lurking..lol. I'm a long time Tgurl and as with many of us evolved. In recent years I've become more leaning to my sissy side, still trying to understand, but I love the feeling it gives me. Along with this has come my desire for wearing nappies , though thats been something I have dreamed about for most of my adult life. It is in recent months I took the plunge and purchased my first nappies. I bought a whole 10 pack. The thrill of opening the parcel! to finally get to wear them..It has been bliss. Hope to share experiences and make friends here with our common interest. Hugs Kimberley..x

The Face Another early morning and already James is feeling angry and resentful. Ever since the unknown virus had entered his body and more or less disabled him he’s been getting angrier and angrier by the minute… even when he was asleep his dreams were all about him angrily doing something. The doctor’s regular visits over the past eight weeks had also angered him. The man was an absolute buffoon. What the hell did it mean - he didn’t know what the problem was? How could they not find something out from the seemingly never ending supply of blood that was taken from his veins? Was everyone at the damned testing lab incompetent? James had woken up eight weeks ago and found he could hardly move. His legs and arms were paralysed even though the rest of his body was working as normal. This had become a constant source of frustration for him. At twenty eight years old he had the normal urges a young man in his prime would have and as blood flowed to his penis he was thwarted in any attempt to relieve himself. The catheter they attached to take away his strangely greenish piss had done little to interfere with what became almost constant hard-ons. This wasn’t the cause of his angry frustrations but it certainly didn’t help. Then, because of a rather nasty infection the catheter was removed and he had to entertain the idea, as a twenty something, of wearing a nappy. He hated that piece of material. The nurses manhandling, the embarrassment of a stiff cock and not being able to do a thing about it, but worst of all was lying around in a wet and messed in nappy... just waiting. The nurse had obviously been in while he was still asleep and left a cup of tea on the bed side table… but of course he couldn’t reach it and knew he’d have to wait for her return so he could have the cup cradled to his lips as he sipped the lukewarm beverage. He’d tried to talk the old nurse into giving him a wank but she had retreated embarrassed and threatened to leave seven weeks ago. So now she only spent time with him when meals were to be taken, the doctor arrived, some medical exam or her sanitary obligations had to be performed. She had taken badly against James and saw her job of bringing relief to the suffering of those patients in her charge to be only medical and not recreational. Although performed with efficiency she completed each and every change with as little eye contact as possible. Once he’d returned from the hospital where the array of talented doctors had to admit to being baffled by this mysterious complaint James had spent the last eight weeks lying in his bed unable to move. Unbeknown to him, a few were of the opinion that it was something that was mental and his ‘virus’ was the product of his own imaginings. He had told them that on the night when this strange condition had taken hold of his body he had dreamed of a great wasp-like thing stinging him at the base of his spine and he’d woken sweating uncontrollably, in fear, a soaked bed and crying but unable to move. He had managed to scream for help but living alone it had taken a couple of days for anyone to hear his cries for assistance. So he’d had to live in his own piss and excrement for all that time, it was a situation he wouldn’t have wished on anyone. Now each night, and completely frustrated at having to rely on anybody else, the man who was a champion squash player… well in his works league at least… and on the front row of the local amateur rugby club… he wore the shirt with pride… fell asleep and his head spun with the weird dreams that occupied his nocturnal thoughts. It’s strange but… well… never had his dreams seemed more real. Never had such a strange and disparate selection of extraordinary, connived and utterly stupid electrons fused together in his brain to produce a panorama of madness and mayhem. Each dream seemed to outdo the last. He both feared and looked forward to his eyes closing and the dream merchants bringing on unbidden the bizarre and exotic… with the occasional erotic thrown in to seemingly mock him for what he was now unable to do. * He shouted for the nurse. The cup of tea was cooling quickly and he hated drinking cold tea. He’d learned that his requests to his nurse for anything normally fell on deaf ears until it suited her… she had her own routine and she wasn’t going to let the fact that he was paying to be cared for interfere with that. Even his nappy was only changed when it suited her. James hated the bitch but had come to rely on her. He gazed out of the window. It faced north so never actually got much sun coming full into his room but this particular early spring morning was glorious. He could see out into the fields and the morning sun lit them up and was bringing out the new green buds on the trees awakening from their winter’s hibernation. If he wasn’t in his usual bad mood he may have quite enjoyed the view… even the pale blue sky seemed to go on for ever without so much as a single cloud to spoil the view. Actually, as he stared out of the window he could see a small black ‘something’ on the far blue horizon. Perhaps it was a small flock of birds but he couldn’t quite make out what it was. He called for the nurse again, he really didn’t want to suffer cold tea again, and a very full nappy but she wasn’t in any rush to come to his assistance. He needed her to put the TV or radio on as well as he couldn’t control the controls. Annoyed and frustrated he returned to looking out over the peaceful sunny morning view… everything the same except that the black smudge on the horizon seemed to be getting bigger and he wondered if there was perhaps a fire burning off in the distance. He couldn’t make it out but shouted loudly again for the nurse to come to him. A voice called back that she was on the phone to the doctor and that she would be up in a minute. That calmed him down a little but he knew that cup of tea would be undrinkable now and that his nemesis would not think of brewing him another cup. It wasn’t like it was rocket science for God’s sake he’d think to himself, as he wondered if anyone of his team-mates would visit him today. He knew they wouldn’t… over the past eight weeks a total of… zero… zilch… bugger all… not one of those bloody self-centred bastards had taken the trouble to come and visit or call to see how he was. It was as if no one even missed the fact that he wasn’t around anymore. “Bastards every fucking one of them” he thought… he couldn’t wait for the chance to ignore them once he was in full health. He looked out of the window again. Hell that black cloud was getting larger by the moment. It put him in mind of a sight he’d seen on a television nature programme where a plague of locusts had swooped in on some poor foreign country and eaten the area’s entire crops leaving the locals starving. It wasn’t a nice image but he’d been enthralled by what nature could do if it wanted and there was bugger all Man could do to stop it. * As he thought these thoughts… the black cloud seemed to separate and peel away in different directions. “How amazing” James thought and was even more amazed as after a few minutes the two separate clouds changed direction again and came as two parallel lines towards his home. He still couldn’t make out what it was but saw that it wasn’t two solid black entities but a multitude of separate moving parts. It was a swarm but, he wondered, a swarm of what? Again his mind went back to the locusts and he thought he was witnessing one of natures little quirks manifest itself in his back field. Suddenly for some reason James felt uncomfortable. Sweat had begun to form on his forehead and his body was clammy under the sheets. His bladder gave way as the green brackish liquid filled his already pretty soaked nappy and his bowel tightened as he tried to keep from messing in his thick protection. Pain stabbed at his insides as he failed to hold himself in check and a brown liquid steam oozed from his backside as he gave way to the excruciating agony that gripped his belly. He mournfully cried out through clamped shut eyes as if for some reason he knew… he just knew… that something terrible was about to happen. He was scared to open even one eye as he tried to block out what was waiting for him should he dare to even blink his eyes open for a split second. His misery got worse and he could feel his eyes, by some strange and malevolent entity, being prised open. He fought as hard as he could… crying out “No No No” to no one in particular… but suddenly his eyes were open wide. He blankly gazed out of his window… but the field had gone, the blue sky had gone, his newly budding trees were gone but there, hovering were a mass of shapes moving around… themselves seemingly caught up in some terrifying current of air. Images of bodies being tossed around at random… darting skyward and then plummeting earthward filled the view from his window. James was scared and transfixed as this myriad of changing, dark, yet animated, images appeared to clamour at his window. The buzz clattered against the window pane and he could make out that they were giant wasps. Terror tightly gripped his chest as he made the connection between his waking dream and his illness. There, beyond the window, was the cause of his situation but now they’d returned in their millions. Then it happened. * The cacophonous sound in his head surprised him. His blood ran cold as he tried desperately to heave himself from the bed and hide. The noise seemed to be calling to him, this time louder and more demanding. He hoped it would be the nurse at the doorway telling him off for being such a complaining baby but there was no one around. His body temperature was dropping quickly and his breathing got more and more laboured. His cold breath creating a small cloud as he breathed out but his face was drawn once again toward the window. All those millions of wasp-like images had become a solid mass of ghostly figures, which then became one. A face. A face that was beckoning James. “Come” The word came again this time demanding and commanding him for the final time. * The nurse arrived in the bedroom to find her charge cold and dead. His eyes were wide open in terror and his mouth locked in an unheard scream. She couldn’t understand what had happened and rushed to telephone the doctor who only minutes earlier had told her that he thought he’d found a solution to their patient’s problem. She didn’t see the black smudge retreating back over the blue horizon. She didn’t hear the return of birdsong that had been silenced for the last few minutes and she never saw the final tear trickle down the face of her charge. James was indeed dead but his torment was just beginning. ***** *****

The Holiday that changed me So it is time for me to share with everyone a little story, about when I was lucky enough to meet someone who would soon become very dear to me, a wonderful person that I spent many happy times with. It happened while I was away on holiday visiting some family, just me and my wife visiting her mother in beautiful part of the country by the sea. Seeing as they both got little time to see each other, I was given time to head off and do what I wished. I love to go sea fishing and this was one of the best places to be so I indulged myself. I should mention that while I have a few hobbies, including fishing, one of the things I have developed is a great passion for nappies, plastic pants and many other things from the adult baby world. For many years I have loved nothing more than to come home and fasten myself into a nappy, usually covered in frilly panties or plastic ones. I am lucky enough to have a very understanding wife who lets me indulge in my wearing, but she does not have a part in it, but it is a arrangement that we are both happy with. That being said, she knows it means a lot to me so I am allowed to have my friends in the AB world, the ones that I already have and any new ones that I am fortunate enough to find. So on the second day of the holiday I woke and wondered what to do for the rest of the day, I was free to drive off to anywhere on the island and do what I want. I decided to go fishing again but made sure that I picked up some supplies on the way, namely some disposable nappies and plastic pants. I did not bring any with me but these are available in a few different shops where I stayed. I thought that that was about as exciting as it would get for the day but I was going to be proven wrong in a big way. Having bought everything I needed somewhere to go and change, but there were no toilets or anything to be found anywhere. I carried on to where I was going to be fishing, which was a quite deserted beach with only a few private beach huts at the end. Having had a quick look around it became apparent that there was no-one to be seen. With me having a very large 4 x 4 I thought that I could just jump straight into the back and change there before putting my pants and fishing waders on. So I set about changing myself when I heard a voice calling out a name, then the same name a few seconds later. Next thing I know there is a dog sitting at the back of my jeep looking up at me, not moving off, not even when I told it to go away. Suddenly a woman comes around the corner to collect the dog, as I am sitting there in my underwear with a bag of nappies and plastic pants next to me. I try to cover everything up but she says not to worry as my secret was safe with her. She then explained that a friend of hers has a liking for the same things and if I would like, she owns one of the cabins at the end of the beach and I can use it to change. I kindly accept her offer, she hands me a key for the padlock and says just to lock up and push the key under the door when finished. With this she fastens the dog on his lead and starts to walk off, she then turned her head and says if you want to keep the key you can have a change hear whenever you need one. I thanked her once again as she walked off, still quite shocked at the kind generosity of this lady. So off I headed to the beach hut she had told me to use. Outside the door I looked at it to find it well kept with what looked like a new coat of paint, so with still a slight doubt in my mind I opened the padlock and then opened the door. Walking inside it was a pleasant little place, a small table with cups and saucers on, a small stove for boiling water, two folding chairs and sun loungers, then to my surprise a folding camp bed. This was perfect for my needs so after undressing I lay down on the bed and fastened myself into the first nappy of my holidays. The smell of the baby powder gave me that special feeling inside once again. All nappied up I left the hut but decided to keep the key for now, headed back to my car and put my waders on, now slightly more snug in the bum. Then it was off fishing with many things going through my mind. The next day I went back to my now favourite fishing spot (for obvious reasons), to see if the mysterious lady was at her beach hut. There was no sign of her but I opened the hut with my key anyway. To my surprise there was a note on the small table inside, reading as follows. "Hello there my little one, this is a little note from your new aunty to say she was hoping that you would be back sometime. I will be out for my daily walk with my dog later on and if you are still here would love to meet again". At first I did not know what to do, but when I turned around and saw what was lying on the small bed at the back I nearly feinted. There, lying in the open was a diaper, some pink plastic pants and a babies bottle. I decided that this was too good an opportunity to turn down. So I left the hut, locking the door behind me and went about my fishing, wondering just how long it would be before she appeared. I had been fishing for about two hours when out of the corner of my eye I spotted someone walking towards me down the beach, no sign of any dog though. I carried on and slowly the person got closer until I realised it was her, my heart now starting to pound faster and faster. When she got up to me she said how nice it was to see me again and asked if I had been in her beach hut yet, I told her that I had, I'd read the note and liked everything I saw. She asked me if I wanted to join her for a drink so I said yes and started to pack my things away, while she went ahead to her beach hut. I packed my car and tentatively walked towards where she was, she greeted me at the door and told me to come in. She then asked me if I was already wearing a nappy, to which I answered no. She then said would I like to and hesitating slightly I told her yes please Aunty, she then said "aren't you just the cutest one ever, now go and lay down on the bed", she then took my shoes off and started to unzip and pull down my jeans, I resisted slightly but was told that aunty would be gentle and take care of everything. So there I am lying down naked from the waist down, with a nappy under my botty. Baby powder is then added and the nappy is pulled up between my legs and then tapes fastened on either side. All this time I am just concentrating on controlling my little clitty, as you can imagine, it is getting very excited at this point. With the diaper in place, the pink plastic panties are pulled into place and then she replaces my jeans and shoes. She then tells me she forgot to get some milk for a drink, so we will have to go to the cafe down the beach, to which I am very surprised as I will be out in public with a woman I know very little about. But it would seem I have no choice. Once inside I am told to get a seat while aunty gets the drinks, after about five minutes aunty comes over with 2 hot chocolates and some cookies. Chapter 2 So there I was sitting in the cafe having a drink, enjoying a little chat about me and my nappy wearing and getting on so well. After about a hour we had our second cup of hot chocolate. By this time I was starting to feel the need to go and relieve my little clitty, but Aunty could see me starting to fidget about and had other ideas. She leaned across the table and whispered to me that she wanted me to do something for her. Firstly she got up and came to sit on the chair next to me, then she put her hand on the front of my jeans and started to rub me very gently. She said that I was going nowhere until I wet my nappy for her, as that was why she put me in it in the first place. I became very nervous about this as although I have wet before when in public, it was that she wanted me to wet for her. But as she continued to rub, she was whispering to me, "go on, wet for aunty, let it all out, be a good baby and aunty will change you again". It was after this that I felt myself giving in and just let go. There I was sitting in a cafe with a relative stranger, with a wet nappy on, with pink plastic pants on top. She then got up, took my hand and asked me to come with her. When we went outside I was expecting to go back to the hut but we turned in the opposite direction and started to walk down the beach the other way. To my surprise we went up to the next house along the beach and stood at the gate. She then turned to me and said something that shocked me, "you can either have your diaper changed at the hut or in my house" pointing to the big house in front of us. I was so unsure what to do and Aunty could tell that I was nervous, so she said I won't pressure you so come back to the hut, let me change you, and if you would like to visit me tomorrow, I will meet you when you are fishing again but please set up in front of my house. I agreed to this and that was the way we went. Back to the hut, a clean-up and a fresh diaper. While I was dressing she left saying please lock up and maybe tomorrow. The next day I got up as usual and when none of my family was around, I put the nappy back on that Aunty had changed me into the day before. I left as usual for my days fishing with butterflies in my stomach due to wondering what was going to happen that day. I left and went to the beach and started fishing as normal, quietly hoping inside that Aunty would come out of her lovely big house behind me. After about an hour, I was greeted at my side by a familiar looking dog and then walking down the beach came Aunty. She came across to me, looking as friendly as ever and asked if I was ready to spend the day with her, so I nervously said yes. With that she put her hand into her pocket and pulled out a pink dummy, she pushed it into my mouth and said that it was to remain there until she told me otherwise. So there I was packing away my things standing in the middle of a beach with a pink dummy in my mouth. Once I had packed my things away, she told me to put my car in the driveway around the side, it was then that someone walked passed me and saw me driving with the dummy in my mouth. I was greeted at the back door by Aunty and taken inside. Once inside I was asked whether or not I had my nappy on, to which I told her I was wearing the one she changed me into the day before. She said that I was very good, asked me to take my shoes off and follow her to the living room. It was then that she started to tell me that I was not the first adult baby she had looked after; her late husband had been one also before she lost him. This started me thinking as to how far she wanted to take this, and I could feel the pressure building on my clitty, but nothing would prepare me for what would happen for the rest of the day. I was asked to follow her to her special room, so up we got and I followed her upstairs and down the hallway to the end. She opened the door and in front of me was a large room with huge cot, changing table, highchair and buggy / stroller. I just stood there in silence and looked out in amazement, but my silence was broken by my over excited clitty giving up and flooding my nappy. Aunty heard this and told me not to worry, she would take care of everything if I wanted to be her little sissy for the day. This was something I just could not refuse and said to Aunty "me be your sissy pweeze". She said it would be her pleasure and asked me to take my clothes off and climb onto her changing table. This I did, and that is where my day of days began, me lying in a nursery on a changing table in nothing but a wet nappy with a woman who wanted me to be her little sissy for the day. Aunty changed my diaper and put some fresh plastic lined, pink satin pants on me, which left me in no doubt as to what my other clothes would be like. Sure enough a white satin petticoat with a net skirt was next to be added, followed by some over the knee stockings, but the dress she wanted me to wear was something quite special. Aunty said that it had been made some time ago but never worn. It was pink satin and lace trim around the neck, hem and sleeves, with a huge big bow attached. The sleeves where all puffy and frilly, but everything seemed to fit perfect. The petticoat made the dress stick out at the bottom just enough so that my panties where on display. Finally Aunty said that she wanted to put a set of baby reins on me to keep me close to her. When she fitted these, I was struggling to keep my little clitty under control but fortunately Aunty had not noticed. She then asked me to follow her back downstairs to her kitchen, this I did but very carefully so that I didn't slip over in my stocking feet. When we got there, the first thing I noticed was the highchair, I didn't get chance to notice anything else as Aunty picked me up and put me straight in the chair, and proceeded to attach my reins to the clips on the seat. A tray was put in place and Aunty brought over a bottle and some cookies for me. She fed me the cookies and then gave me the bottle to drink, closely followed by another one when it was empty. After the second bottle, I was starting to feel the need to go for a pee pee again. Aunty sensed this and just told me it was ok to let it all out sitting where I was. This I did and it brought a smile from Aunty. I was taken back to the nursery, put on the changing table and asked to hold up my dress and petticoat in order for Aunty to change me. She took of my wet diaper and cleaned me off but while she was applying the some cream, my clitty started to grow again, only this time there was no place to hide it. She said that judging by the reaction my clitty was showing, I must enjoy being a sissy and wearing my nappies. I just nodded my head in agreement, but before I could do anything else I started making creamies everywhere, Aunty just giggled and cleaned me up. I was put into a fresh cloth diaper this time with clear panties with little hearts all over them. Aunty then lifted me off the table and took me over to the large pushchair, she picked me up and lowered me in, pulled the straps over my shoulders and then up between my legs and put a dummy in my mouth. She then wheeled me out of the room and down the hallway into what must have been her bedroom. At the far side of it was a large bay window where the sun was shining in, Aunty then pulled up the sunshade on my stroller and told me it was my nap time and she would be back later to check on me. She switched on a hi-fi with some soft music playing and before I knew it, I was fast asleep.

This is the first story I’ve ever written so please excuse any spelling mistakes or grammatical errors. ——————————————— Chapter 1 *Beep Beep Beep* Theo was rudely awoken by the alarm next to his bed. After a brief panic thinking he’d have to get up soon to go to college he soon remembered that it was the summer holidays and it was in fact much later than first thought, and was safe to assume he’d slept through the first few chirps of the alarm. The sun burst through the gaps in his curtains and he heard footsteps from outside his door, by the looks of things it was going to be another glorious British summers day. “Morning sweety!” His Mum Kelly said as she opened his bedroom door and brought him a warm cup of tea. “Mornin’” he said rather groggily as he hadn’t quite woken up yet. “You better get up and shower soon, don’t forget we’re going to the shopping centre this morning to get you some new trainers. I’m just going to change Izzy and get her ready for nursery and after that we’ll head off!” Theo nodded in response to his Mum with a loud yawn. Theo lived with his Mum Kelly and baby Sister Izzy in a modest suburban house just on the outskirts of a typical British town. His Dad worked abroad so didn’t see him much, and has only really ever known living with his Mum and more recently, Izzy. She was of an age where she was preparing for potty training so his mum had been recently busy rushing around getting all of the necessities like potties, progress charts and pullups. However as it was the holidays she’d promised that her and Theo would spend the day together. He didn’t have many friends and had spent most of the holiday playing on his games console, so he was looking forward to going out and getting some fresh air. Truth be told Theo had been extremely jealous of Izzy since the day she was born. All the attention went her way and Theo was desperate for a bit of love from his mum. He’d give anything to go back to the days where he had no responsibilities and his mum would take care of him 24/7. For as long as he can remember he had a fascination for nappies and other baby items, often fantasising about being a baby again. These feelings were only accelerated when his sister was born and he very occasionally found the courage to sneak out some nappies from his sisters room and feel them in his hands, although they were way too small to actually wear much to his frustration. “Theo get a move on we’ll be leaving in a minute, I don’t want Izzy to be late for nursery!” He put down his phone and quickly hopped in the shower, cleaned his teeth and threw on some grey cotton shorts and a plain blue t-shirt. He decided against his hoodie as he knew it was going to be a warm day. He flew down the stairs and ran through the dining room towards the front door picking up a slice of toast for his breakfast in the process. “Why don’t you just get up a bit earlier instead of rushing around like a headless chicken every morning?” Kelly said as she was putting Izzy’s shoes on. “Was just having a lie in, and I don’t see what’s wrong with the way I get ready!” He said with a slight grin. Kelly was wearing a plain black pair of leggings and a pink cardigan. Theo was abnormally short for his age but his mum would tower over most of his friends, and he was constantly being teased about his mum being a ‘milf’. He looked down at his sister who was wearing her typically babyish pink clothes, and as she bent over he caught a glimpse at a pink pull-up riding over the top of her skirt. At that moment he imagined himself in that position, but it was simply a passing thought as they all bundled out the door into their modest hatchback. “Izzy sweetie remember what we talked about earlier, as soon as you need to go wee wee or poo poo today tell one of the nurses and they’ll take you to the potty!” Kelly said slowly as we pulled out of the drive and drove down the road. “Yes mumma” Izzy muffled as she put her thumb in her mouth. Theo rolled his eyes. He couldn’t wait to have a day alone with his mum away from his little brat of a sister, so he could finally be the centre of attention for once. As he glared out the window watching the world go by, he begun to feel a strange sensation from his stomach, suddenly remembering he had completely forgotten to go to the toilet in the rush to leave this morning. He wasn’t worried though it wouldn’t be too long until they’d be at the shopping centre, and he was pretty confident of his ability to hold it. Within a few minutes the car parked up outside Lily’s nursery. “I’ll be back in a minute Theo” Kelly exclaimed as she let Izzy out of her car seat. “Don’t take too long mum I want to be the first in the shops to beat the queues!” Theo exclaimed rather urgently, knowing full well his ulterior motive of needing to relieve himself. Theo watched as his mum and sister entered the nursery along with numerous other little kids and their parents. He began to fantasise about his mum leading him into the nursery fully padded ready for a day of playing around with toys without a care in the world. “Oh through good old days” he thought to himself, trying to recall any early memories he had of any similar events. He was suddenly jolted back to reality by the growing feeling in his bowels. He was very regular and usually did his business as soon as he got up to avoid using public toilets, something he’d always had a paranormal fear of. Doing your business near someone you’d never met before made him anxious and he’d spent his whole life avoiding it at all costs. Kelly soon returned to the car. “Right let’s get going, you thought about what trainers you’d like?” Theo’s mum enquired as she turned the key and set off from the nursery. “Not really” he snapped back. “How long will it take to get there? I kind of need the loo...” “We only left the house 15 minutes ago did you not go before we left?” His mum said, with a slightly frustrated tone. “Well I didn’t need to then!” This was of course a white lie, but it’s the standard response for this kind of situation. “I’m sure you can hold on you’re a big boy, it won’t be long until we get there”. Theo chose not to respond as he thought his mum was teasing him, instead choosing to focus on the road ahead of him. However unlucky for him the car was soon stationary due to the standard rush hour traffic. “Bloody typical” he thought to himself. Panic started to set in. He began to experience some pretty intense cramps and needed to keep changing positions in his seat in order to have some slight, albeit temporary, relief. The fact that he was facing the prospect of using a public toilet wasn’t helping but he was beginning to doubt his ability to hold on. Kelly looked over to her to her son who was now squirming non stop. “You don’t need a poo do you?” She said with a look of slight concern. Theo’s face went bright red with embarrassment, that’s the kind of question she would ask his baby sister not him. “Ummm yeah pretty bad” he responded. In reality, he was on the brink of exploding as his desperation accelerated. “Just hold on for a bit longer, the car park is just past those lights we won’t be long.” Said his mum trying to give him some words of support. One massive cramp hit Theo’s stomach, signalling he’d run out of time. His hands grabbed onto either side of his seat and he lifted his bum as he tried to let out a small fart in order to relieve some pressure. Terrible decision. “Uh oh” Theo squeaked quietly as he felt a huge soft lump escape his bum accompanied by a muffled wet fart. The sudden hot feeling on his bum was a strange and alien sensation as the poo met the resistance of his pants, mushrooming and spreading across his bum. Theo went into complete shock as he was unable to stop what was unfolding. At the same time a steady stream of pee completely drenched the front of his shorts and subsequently the car seat. Theo had completely and utterly messed himself, something he hadn’t done since he was a toddler. His mother looked over and audibly gasped, met with the sight of a big wet spot forming on the front of her son’s shorts. “Oh my god Theo what are you doing?” She sniffed the air and caught a whiff of a smell she had become so used to since having a baby. “Please don’t tell me you’ve...” she said as she stared disappointingly at Theo. All he could do was hang his head as tears began to form...

I am now using cloth 24/7 as I am working from home.

Hi All, I'm not sure whether or not this is the right place to do this, but I just wanted to check in with everyone to see how you're all doing during the lockdown? I hope you're all keeping safe and well. Would any UK adult babies be interested in arranging a web chat one evening? It might be a good way to people to connect during this difficult time. I hope you're all OK. Take care, Baby Richie

Hey guys, my first attempt at writing fiction for this secret of ours. I wanted to focus on discovery, different adventures, and mental health, which is a huge important part of my life. I would love to hear constructive criticism. This story will not feature any sexual acts for underage people, but may evolve into such acts for people over the age of 18. Chapter 1: Spokesperson: “The youth of today are experiencing unprecedented levels of stress and anxiety, depression and abuse. With all the pressures that young people are reporting, we wanted to take one of those pressures off their shoulders.” Reporter: “But...really? Nappies?” Spokesperson: “Yes. Now look, I understand, it sounds strange. As babies we are taught that we should grow out of them as soon as possible. However, recent reports show that the stress a toddler experiences going through toilet training is the same intensity as our students as they undergo high school. With the pressures that our teenagers are facing participating in sports, study and other extracurricular activities, as well as the trauma that is puberty and socialising in the internet age, it's no wonder mental health is the number one issue in our country!” Reporter: “But the social stigma of being a bedwetter, or wearing nappies, wouldn’t that make the high school experience worse? Kids who bedwet are one of the top targets for bullies?” Spokesperson: “That’s what this campaign is about. Reducing the stigma. Get it all out there! We have studies that show that children who bedwet, experience significantly less stress when they awake to a soiled protective garment rather than wet sheets. Mostly, instead of stress, they report feeling shame, due to the stigma. What we have concluded is that having basic needs and protection for our youth, and reducing the stigma of needing these things, can help lift the burden for our children.” Reporter: “So this is about bedwetters then? Another bedwetting garment for the market.” Spokesperson (Laughing): “Yes and no. Our products are for everyone. Because we want everyone to be safe and secure at SecureCo. If we can offer security and happiness through these products, then our mission is successful.” ***************************************************************************** Bailey Brrrrrrrrrrnnnnnnnnnnngggggggggg The school bell echoed throughout the schoolyard, signalling the end of the learning day. While most of the classrooms followed this sound with exclamations of relief, Mr. Bransons 10th grade English class put down their pens and let out sighs of relief and stress. Bailey, a brown hair, green eyed girl near the front of the classroom, exhaled heavily, feeling the anxiety leave her body, unaware that she had been holding her breath. Like most of her cohort, her pen was taken by gravity with defeat, and the air of the classroom reeked of stress. “That is all for today, young people. I look forward to grading your practise exams.” Said the balding man, rising from his desk at the front of the classroom. “For those of you who did not study, make sure you do so for the end of term exam. And please, do not forget, your assignments are due in two weeks!” A grumble moves throughout the classroom, as pens and other studious accoutrement are packed in cases and bags, chairs scraping against the cheap laminate floor. As the heads of statistically too many teenagers began to rise into the classroom air, preparing for departure, Mr. Branson continued. “Please read two more chapters of Death of a Salesman this weekend.” He shouted, over the rising murmur. “We are woefully behind where we should be! I will see you all bright and early monday morning! Have a good weekend.” Bailey joined the horde of people moving towards the single exit from the classroom, and began the routine of dodging and weaving throughout the crowd, making her way towards the parking lot. Holly Hartford, her sister, tall and brown hair, lighter than Baileys chocolate colour, stood in front of her Mazda, nice but clearly preowned. The sisters school allowed its female students to wear shorts or a skirt with their shirt for the uniform, but Holly was one of the few students who ever wore a skirt with her button up shirt. “Hey! Wanna go to the store before we go home?” Holly asked, smiling, as Bailey approached. “Yeah! Got so much reading to do, I’m going to need an energy drink.” Bailey said she threw her backpack on the back seat of the sedan, and dropped into the passenger seat. “You shouldn’t drink that stuff, sis. It's disgusting and so bad for you.” Holly admonished, as she pulled out of the parking lot and into the flow of traffic. “It’s the only way to get through the homework!” Bailey looked to her older sister. “You’re graduating next semester, you would have so much more work than I do, but you’re never as stressed. Always so free with your boho crap!” Her eyes narrowed, suspiciously. “Why is that?” Holly laughed, but never looked at her sister. After a few minutes, the Hartford sisters pulled into the parking lot of their local store, and made their way inside. Holly split off from Bailey, claiming to need some basic groceries for the house before getting some snacks for the weekend. The younger sister began wandering down the main midway, mindlessly heading for the junk aisle. She grabbed a basket and filled it with various unhealthy snacks and energy drinks, before making her way towards the health and cosmetics aisle for some more foundation. As she was moving towards her destination, Bailey stopped at one of the midway ends, a display that was currently set up. A large banner read SecureCo Huggers: Protecting Our Teens and many plastic packages were stacked beneath it. As Bailey looked closer, she realised what they were. “Hello, Miss. Can I help you?” A voice came from behind Bailey. Turning around, the teen saw a young girl, a little older than her sister, wearing a polo shirt bearing the logo of the store. The girl was red-headed, with blue eyes, and a kind face. She seemed startled for a second, but her smile got wilder as she recognised the teen in front of her. “Bailey, right? You’re Paige’s friend?” The storeperson asked. “Yeah. Hey! Sorry you startled me.” Bailey responded, as she too recognised the worker in front of her. Paige had talked about her coworkers before, and had a great working relationship with the girl in front of her. Bailey looked at the girls name tag. Shannon. That was her name. “Sorry, I am good at that.” Shannon laughed. “Didn’t mean to, though, I swear. I just saw you checking out the display, and came over to help. I am the ambassador for the new SecureCo products in the store.” “They need an ambassador for some nappies?” Bailey asked, looking back at the pyramid of packages. “They’re not just any nappies. They are made for teens, and a little older. Hell, I would be able to fit into them!” Shannon claimed, bending down and picking one of the packages up and showing it to Bailey. The package read SecureCo Huggers, Size Medium, Protective Garment. “Nappies for teens? Like bedwetters? Drynites?” Bailey asked. “No, like nappies. Real nappies. And yes, for teens. Although, they never state the word ‘nappy’ on the package.” Shannon responded, flipping it over and showing the diagram on the other side. “Why do they make nappies for teens? Ew.” Bailey laughed. “I don’t know to be honest. But they are popular!” Shannon agreed, laughing as well. “I’m surprised you haven’t seen the ads, they are everywhere.” “I don’t watch much tv, mostly just Netflix.” “Oh! Ah well.” The older girl replied. “Anyway, the company makes them because apparently they are comfortable and invoke peace and safety. Hence the name Huggers. How they got away with that name I will never know.” “Wait, so these are for, like, just normal teens? Not just for bed and pant wetters?” Bailey was incredulous. “Nope! They are designed to be more for comfort!” Shannon said smoothly, slipping into her customer service role. “Although, they can absorb quite a bit of, uh, liquid anyway. More so than any other protective garment we offer for teens.” “Wow.” Was all Bailey could respond. “If you were curious, I think you would be a size small. That is these ones.” Shannon said, handing over a package. “Oh. No thank you!” Bailey said, shocked. She dropped the package and took a few steps back. “I don’t need nappies. Anyway, bye.” And the younger girl fled. Shannon looked as Bailey quickly walked towards the registers, and a small smile came over her face. Meanwhile, Bailey paid and was heading back towards the car when someone walked up beside her, quickly, and grabbed the bag from her hands. “Here, I’ll grab these and take them to the car. Why don’t you get us some juice from the stall over there! It’s perfect for a day like today.” Holly said, startling Bailey. Before the younger sister could answer, Holly grabbed Bailey's bag, pressed some money into her now empty hands and headed back in the direction she came. “Okay! Weirdo!” Bailey called after her sister, before heading towards the juice stand. She ordered a Mango and Banana for her sister, and a Berry Blast for herself, before exiting the shopping centre and stepping out onto the crosswalk. She could see her sisters car off in the distance, the boot up, although that was quickly closed by Holly. Bailey arrived at the Mazda just as Holly finished throwing the bags onto the back seat and slammed the door closed. “Thanks, sis!” Holly smiled, grabbing the juice out of her hands. “What did you put in the boot?” Bailey asked, sensing something off about Holly’s demeanor. “You put the bags on the back seat.” “Nothing! Was just checking if my spare was still in there.” Holly replied, smoothly. “So, no Paige this weekend?” Bailey sighed, sipping on her juice. “No. She has to work early in the morning and I need to get some work done. Although, I’m sure she will come around tomorrow night after work.” Paige was a common, and welcome sight, around the Hartford household. The rest of the trip was made in silence. As the Mazda pulled into the two-storey Hartford home, the girls exited the vehicle and grabbed their bags off the backseat. As Holly moved to put her key in the front door, Bailey looked back at the car confused. The confusion was immediately put out of her mind as she entered their home and headed upstairs to get her homework started. Kicking her shoes off, Bailey was halfway up the stairs in her socks when the tv flicked on and an ad filled the air. “Here at SecureCo, we want your teen to be happy and safe, to have an outlet for their stress and anxiety. That’s why we made the SecureCo Huggers, an undergarment that makes you feel secure and…” *****************************************************************************

Being stuck at home and self-isolating in these crazy coronavirus times, I decided that I would for the first time in my life have a go at writing! This story is partly inspired by the feeling of being trapped indoors, and whilst I'm sure not to everyone's taste, I hope nonetheless enjoyable for some and a cathartic experience for me. - - - - - - PART 1 I had no idea what the time was, but it was definitely the afternoon. The sun managed to just about break through the cracks in the blind dimly illuminating the nursery and in turn filtering its way through the bars of my adult-sized cot. Babyish smells of lotion and powder filled the room and looking through the bars of my cot, and now prison, I could see both my oversized highchair, where I’d taken every meal for the last four weeks, and changing table replete with supplies of thick baby-print adult nappies. I could only raise my head slightly, as the locking medical grade restraints binding my neck, wrists and ankles to the crib mattress didn’t exactly allow for much movement and held me pretty firmly. Looking down towards my feet caused me to blush, perhaps more so than when starring up at the baby mobile dangling above my head, as I was wearing a light blue footed sleeper with the clear and visible outline of a bulging, damp and messy nappy that crinkled loudly with even the slightest of movement. This had without doubt gone way too far, but there was certainly nobody to blame other than myself for this ridiculous mess I’d gotten myself into. If only I could have controlled my adult baby urges and desires and not succumbed. Now, in my current position, it looks as there is no escape, no way out, at least nothing that I can think of. --- When I saw her profile on Fetlife, I was instantly mesmerised, firstly by the profile photo and then by the list of interests that seemed to match mine so perfectly that I felt it had been put together especially for me; almost too good to be true. I was naturally drawn to her website with picture after picture of sheer and astounding beauty, each one with the voluptuous curves belonging to a professional dominatrix the likes I’d never seen before. I flicked back to the Fetlife profile and my excitement grew as not only did she live around half an hour away from me, but it appeared as though this Mistress wasn’t looking for clients, but rather a boyfriend. To think that this could have been me was in retrospect laughable. What would a gorgeous, successful and powerful woman like this want with me? Needless to say, my good looks, albeit on a fairly small frame belied the tiny-dicked loser, who at the grand age of thirty-six was still a virgin and riddled with insecurities that went all the way back to my childhood, where as a bedwetter I was made to wear nappies at night right into my early teens. My night-time treatment plagued me by day, ebbing away at my self-confidence, and making matters worse, this eventually manifested itself as a fetish for nappies that made real relationships with women even harder that they should have been for someone like me. Still, what was there to lose by trying? After all, my desperation to be with someone who loved me ‘for me’ was almost as palpable as my desire to finally have sex.

I have been told not to go into the London office but instead work from my house. Who else is taking the opportunity to wear and wet whilst working from home?

Me and Mum Me and mum were sat out on the small balcony we were fortunate enough to have in our two bedroom maisonette on the outskirts of town. The living-room opened up onto it and when the weather was nice, like it had been all day, it was like a little bit of luxury, if you didn’t quite understand what luxury was. It was a place we felt lucky to have because the view over the city in the distance was quite spectacular. Mum was sitting with a glass of chilled white wine, a treat she quite liked, and I had a glass of cold milk. It had been a particularly hot summer’s day and we’d been to the christening of my Aunty Jade and Uncle David’s second child – Florence Delilah Armstrong. Their first child was almost two years old and called Alan David Armstrong, and was getting to be quite a handful. He’d run riot in the church, much to my amusement, and I saw many grown-ups trying desperately not to laugh as he shouted out inappropriate words during the sermon and various blessings, much to his mum and dad’s obvious embarrassment as they stood at the font. Florence seemed to take her lead from him and cried throughout the entire proceedings and I’d never seen my aunt and uncle look as uncomfortable as they passed their daughter over to the weary looking cleric. Had it not been for Alan, the entire thing would have been very boring and I’m glad that eventually mum sent me to play with him to try and calm him down. Oddly enough he was dressed in a smaller version suit as I wore. I wondered if mum and aunty had discussed what we’d be wearing and that the pale blue suits were no accident. We did look smart. However, because I’m older (nearly nine) my shorts looked even shorter on me than his did on him, although his nappy was visible as it had ridden up as he’d charged around all the guests. At one point I got him to calm down as he sat on my knee and we played a silly game of I-Spy. There were a couple of other kids at the service who were obviously trying to ignore me and Alan who, apart from Florence, were the youngest present. Looking across the gathering I remember thinking how pretty mum looked in her dark blue dress. She always looked good but in that company of well-dressed people I thought she stood out. Mum is five feet, eight and a half inches tall, has a slim body and nice bosoms and has long, gently curling golden hair. She looks a lot younger than her thirty-four years. I am her only son; I’m eight years old, four feet six inches tall, have thick golden hair like mum... and have green eyes. I thought we looked really stylish together in church and she thought so too. I know because she kept telling me how smart I looked and how Alan could be my little brother because we appeared so much alike. Anyway, back home sitting out on our small balcony Smooth FM was playing softly in the background, mum was at one side of the small table and I sat on the other drinking milk. Mum always said that since I could pour it myself, milk straight from the fridge was my preference to any other drink... including Coca-Cola, which is my second favourite. We were laughing as we went over the events of the day. However, as it was early evening by the time we got back home, I’d changed from my suit into my Spider-Man jammies, whilst mum was in a t-shirt and jogging bottoms. I was telling her about how grateful my aunt and uncle had been when I engaged Alan in something other than complete disruption. She laughed as she remembered one of the things he’d called out when the priest had poured a little Holy Water over his baby sister’s head. “Don’t wet her anymore,” he’d shouted, “she can wet herself.” The place erupted in laughter. I think what he meant was obvious. However, I could tell when the little guy sat on my lap that he himself was quite wet but decided to wait until after the ceremony to tell his mum. Despite him being well-padded he did manage to leak onto my shorts so in the end, and much to my embarrassment, there were two of us in wet pants. The other kids who’d been avoiding us insisted that I’d wet my pants as well and no amount of denial from me seemed to make any difference. “A couple of babies.” Was their opinion of me and Alan and I’m not sure the rest of the congregation didn’t believe them. I’d had my own fair share of accidents in the past but not one during the day for a year or so but those ‘friends’ and ‘relations’ had long memories and simply thought it possible I still wet myself. Anyway, the strange thing was, when Aunty Jade got round to changing her baby daughter and a soggy Alan, she asked if I needed changing too. I was angry and annoyed at the insinuation but mum just said I was fine and didn’t defend me, well I thought not, and that upset me a bit. Unfortunately, it all meant that while Alan and his sister wore nice clean and dry clothes, the wet stain on my shorts was obvious throughout the ‘christening lunch’ we all attended back at auntie’s house. I got some pitying looks (and so did mum) and more than one person asked if I needed help with a fresh nappy. I don’t know if they were supposed to be joking but I seethed a bit because mum had always taught me to not be disrespectful to grown-ups. So all I could do was turn on my heels and walk away - surely they knew I didn’t wear a nappy? On the way home I was in a bit of a mood and asked why she hadn’t put them right and protected me but she simply said she wasn’t sure I hadn’t wet myself and didn’t want to embarrass me more by making a fuss. She thought I’d handled it very well... showed I was growing up... and was proud of me. So, by the time we got home I was really quite pleased with myself and happy with mum’s explanation... she was proud of me. # As we sat on our little balcony, watching the lights of the distant town coming on, mum was totally relaxed and, after the slight annoyance of the ‘wet pants’ incident, I was also happy and relaxed, glad to be home, out of my suit and into something far more comfortable. I was retelling mum about some of little Alan’s comments and the silly things he’d said during our game of I-spy. “I-spy with my little eye, something beginning with N” I invited. He’d looked around and finally answered “Nappy”. That wasn’t the answer and couldn’t see any so asked where he saw N for nappies? He pointed to my shorts and then his own “Nappies” he cheerfully shouted. I could see his but felt guilty that he thought I also must wear them, possibly because we were wearing the same style suit. We were both laughing. Mum thought it was funny whereas I just pretended I wasn’t alarmed by a two year-old’s comment. She then mentioned Florence Delilah’s lung capacity... she hadn’t stopped crying all the way through the service. We both grinned at her parent’s obvious embarrassment and that the vicar looked relieved when it was over, and then added that she thought Alan was a little treasure. “He has a really fun attitude for one so young.” She commented. “There’s a real personality there that I’m sure will serve him well as he grows up. You two looked wonderful together... you were the life and soul of the proceedings... thanks.” She smiled. It seemed a strange thing to say about one so young so I took the opportunity and said that she didn’t have to cope with a leaky nappy like I had, to which she guffawed. “No David I suppose not.” “He’s a nice lad but the reaction of everyone else made it look like I was as guilty as he was... a wet toddler...” I moaned in my defence. “Look love... you mustn’t worry about what others think or don’t think.” She thought for a moment. “Even if you had wet your pant...” And then she got all weepy reminiscing about how things used to be and how she never minded changing my nappies because it brought us closer together. Mum had said earlier that it had been quite an emotional day. I’d seen her eyes fill with tears as she’d held little Florence (mum was to be a God-parent) at the font and even seemed reluctant to hand her back to the vicar. There were times when I’d watched mum cope with her grief over the loss of my dad and although he’d been gone for over six years, she still wept for him and hugged me tightly. It had been quite a day. It had been fun but also stressful and long. I was glad to be home. I saw she was getting a bit teary so lent over and gave her a hug. She wanted more, and invited me to sit on her lap. I’d finished my milk and she must have been on her second or third glass of wine but I saw she needed to show how much she loved me. I sat on her lap and she just clung to me and I heard a little sob come from deep down as she patted my leg through the thin cotton of my jammies. “Oh Davey, Davey, Davey...” She said as she held me even more tightly. “I hope you never get too big for me to give you a hug sweetie... mummy needs her loving boy more than ever.” As she hugged and stroked my back she was apologising for being emotional and a “silly mummy”. Mum is very loving, but I’d noticed recently she was having more frequent need for cuddles and hugs. I didn’t know why... maybe because I was getting older... but I’d never let her down. If mum wanted a hug it was the very least I could do. However, the next thing she did really surprised me. After a few minutes I was released and could see the tears she’d shed and I felt guilty but I didn’t know why. I knew I hadn’t caused them but still... “Come with me love.” She reached out her hand and I took it as she led me off the balcony and into her bedroom. She asked me to lie out on her bed whilst she went through a couple of draws and began to gather a few things together. I didn’t see what it was until she arrived next to the bed and said she was going to put a nappy on me. I lay there stunned. I mean, I hadn’t wet myself at the christening... nor had I worn one for a couple of years but more over... why? “Why mum... why do you...” “I’m sorry love it’s just... well... Oh love...” She seemed to be having trouble getting her thoughts together. Eventually, seeing me looking confused she answered. “I miss having my little boy. You’re growing up and becoming quite the independent young man... and soon you’ll be gone.” I was stunned by this. I never thought of myself as an independent young man but here she was telling me that’s just what I was. Had I known better I suppose I’d have put it down to too much to drink... she’d had a few at the do after the christening I was sure. However, I don’t like to see mum upset and have tried, whenever those moments do break through, to make things better for her. “But mum... why a nappy?” She cried. “Oh love I’m sorry... I’m just being silly and... a little drunk...” she confided. “I got so envious of your Aunty Jade.... having two babies to look after and who depend on her. I know... silly... but I couldn’t help it. For just a few moments I want my little boy back to when he was reliant on me... and who I can smoother in kisses and hugs.” “Mum, I am reliant on you... I’m eight.” “I know love...” I could see her thinking and looking a bit lost if I’m truthful. I’d never seen her quite so ‘sorrowful’ and wasn’t sure what I could do to help. I didn’t like to see her in that state and after a few silent moments ventured a possible answer. “Mum, are you sure putting me in a nappy would help?” She sighed and shrugged but I didn’t get the reply I was after. I thought a bit more and then said that if it would make a difference then I’d wear a nappy but only for a little while... and she wasn’t to tell anyone. She beamed a wonderful smile in my direction. “You are a lovely, understanding boy... I’m grateful every day to have someone like you in my life.” # I was surprised at just how much stuff mum had. I suspected it was things left over from when I was a toddler but even so... why had she kept all of it? At the time it never occurred to me that she was expecting that her and dad would have had more than just me, which of course got me thinking of dad and that made me well up. I was two when dad died and although my thoughts of him are patchy, mum never stopped telling me what a lovely, loving daddy he was. I missed him and I think that’s why mum and I are so close... she misses him too. It was very emotional as she looked at me and I looked back and at that moment we seemed to need something. I was thinking of daddy when she pulled off my pyjama bottoms. Part of me was thinking she wasn’t going to go through with it but another part hoped that if she did, it would make her happy. I was torn. Mum produced some wipes and started cleaning the area up even though I was sure it didn’t need it, after all I hadn’t wet myself earlier. “Just making it all nice and clean for you sweetie,” she said as if reading my mind. She then picked up some pink cream and slathered it all over my bottom and pee-pee. I really was confused by what was happening but mum was doing it with such a loving intensity I tried to smile but I think it came out as a grimace. “Oh sweetie, am I hurting you?” She looked horrified and took her hands away as if suffering an electric shock. “No, no mum... it’s fine... erm...” The words ‘it’s fine’ seemed the permission needed to carry on and under a large sprinkling of powder I saw that look of love return to her face. I still wasn’t overly happy about all this but, as she fluffed out a large terry square, I knew we were past the turning back point. She folded it into the correct shape and inched it under my bottom. Then pinned it on tightly making sure it gripped my hips. “There sweetheart, all done... and don’t you look like my special little baby boy?” I didn’t like the reference to being her baby boy but after all that she’d witnessed today I could see why that thought was in her head. By now it was getting late and was way past my bedtime so mum pulled back the covers on her bed and got me to climb in. “You’ll sleep with me tonight... if that’s okay... I need your company...” She said a little wistfully as she went to the bathroom to get herself ready for bed. I lay there, wearing my Spider-man pyjama top and a thick nappy between my legs. I wasn’t very comfortable and hoped I wouldn’t have to stay wearing it for very long. Mum returned shortly afterwards and got into bed and immediately gently pulled me into her stomach and bosoms and wrapped me in her loving arms. “Thank you sweetie... thank you.” To be honest, I hadn’t slept with mum for over a year and despite the annoying nappy, it was quite nice to be cuddled to sleep. Surprisingly, I dropped off almost immediately. # I woke up a little confused. Mum was shaking my shoulder and telling me to get up. “Oh sweetie... you’ve wet the bed.” It didn’t quite register what she was telling me but when it did, I reached down to my nappy and it was soaked. I was still disorientated from waking up from a very deep and peaceful sleep but not remembering I was in mum’s bed. “Sweetie, I’m afraid you’ve leaked a little bit but don’t worry...” I was still groggy as she unpinned the nappy and started to clean me up. I tried to protest but she just asked me to let her take care of it, so I did. She had a towel in her hand and started to wipe me down before applying a few wet wipes, to clean the area up. I hoped that was it and I’d be able to return to my bed but mum had other precautions she wanted to take. “Okay sweetie,” she said pleasantly, “perhaps you’ve just had too much liquid today so...” She fluffed out a new nappy. “Mum, I don’t want to wear another nap...” “Ssshhhh sweetie, don’t worry... it’s just in case...” I tried to argue but she just pulled me up from where I was and showed me the wet area. She didn’t need to say more. I wasn’t in any position to argue as she pinned me in and then, as if from nowhere, opened up a pair of shiny white plastic pants and inched them up and over the bulky fabric. “Mummm, I, I, no, ermmm...” but she wasn’t listening. “There sweetie... now you can wet as much as you like.” I wasn’t happy because I’d just wet the bed and felt ashamed so asked if I could return to my own. Mum patted my padded bottom and said that was fine so I grabbed my discarded pyjama bottoms and ambled to my room, well aware of the thickness that now accompanied me. I pulled my PJ bottoms up with difficulty but they stretched enough for me to hide the shiny pants underneath. I climbed into bed wondering why and how I’d managed to wet mum’s bed and I could hear her stripping and changing it. As I rolled over there was a definite crinkle sound and my legs felt they were pulled apart but I wriggled under the duvet and hoped I’d get to sleep. This had been a very strange night but I was very tired so dropped off immediately. However, come the morning I woke up to find that I’d soaked my protection - I was horrified, indignant and guilt-ridden. I hoped I could hide what I’d done from mum but she came in all happy and sparkling asking if I’d slept any better. I had no idea why I’d wet again and burst into tears. “Ohh sweetheart what’s the matter?” She sat on my bed and hugged me. Thinking I was still anxious about wetting her bed she tried to calm me. “Don’t worry about last night love... it wasn’t a problem and soon fixed... so...” I couldn’t bring myself to tell her I was soaked but she’d find out for herself soon enough. I couldn’t let her see... “Don’t cry love. You have nothing to be worried about. I think we both might have had too much to drink last night.” She smiled as if we were sharing some great secret together. “Silly mummy let her emotions get the better of her. Sorry.” I couldn’t pretend any longer. “I’m wet.” I sobbed as more tears of shame ran down my cheeks. The way mum looked she wasn’t sure if I was joking or not. Reluctantly she pulled away the duvet and slipped her hand under the waistband of my jammies. Hesitantly she pushed at the plastic pants and felt the fabric underneath. “Ohhh.” Tears fell... I was devastated. “Sorry sweetheart, this wasn’t supposed to happen was it?” I just wanted to stay in bed and hide from the world for the rest of my life. I wet myself... twice... I was so ashamed. I pulled the duvet back over my head and tried to make myself invisible but mum said I needed to get out of the wet and into something dry. “But mum...” “Now come on sweetie... it’s only a wet nappy, not the end of the world and besides, the sooner we have you out of it and all cleaned up... the sooner you can forget all about it.” She was already pulling at my reluctant arm helping me get out of bed then ushering me towards the bathroom. Off came my pyjamas leaving me standing in just the plastic pants and soaked nappy. I looked in the mirror and I could see the slight sag behind the robust plastic pants. “Look love, don’t worry. As it is,” she said patting the slippery white glossy surface, “these prevented anything from leaking onto your bed. So better than my bed eh?” I didn’t like this reminder that I’d wet twice but I couldn’t deny what the night had witnessed and I was so sorry and embarrassed I wasn’t sure what to do. “Look love, let’s get you cleaned up and then we’ll decide what we’re going to do today.” I nodded, but not enthusiastically, and stepped under the shower. I stood under the spray and worried that I’d be put into nappies now for the rest of my life. Once out I towelled myself dry and wandered back to my bedroom. I half expected to see mum there but she’d made my bed up and put out some clothes. “Let’s go to the park and maybe have lunch out... if you fancy that?” I was feeling a bit better. The shower had eased my mood and the fact mum hadn’t left any baby stuff out brightened me up a little bit more. I slipped on my Spider-Man briefs and grey polo shirt and she’d left out a pair of green shorts, which she knew were my favourite. By the time I was dressed and had my white K-Swiss sneakers on I was feeling a lot more confident. # The park, on a sunny Sunday, is an ideal place to be. It’s quite large, has a nicely laid out garden area (as we don’t have a garden I’m sure this is why mum loves the place) there’s a large kids play area, a small museum and a lake all within its grounds. It’s a popular place for picnics but mum decided that we’d have a nice pub meal for lunch. I had a great time with mum as she smelled just about every blossoming plant in the place and then left me to scamper around on the slides and stuff in the kid’s playground. The park is a fantastic space and although we don’t visit that often (it’s two bus rides away) when we do we can never get over the fact we have such a wonderful space in our town. Time seemed to shoot by and what felt like just minutes turned out to be a couple of hours I’d been playing with a bunch of other kids. Mum called me over and asked if I was hungry and I didn’t realise how starved I was. Mum knew the pub, The Inn on the Green, would be busy but it was on the edge of the park and had a large beer garden where we could sit out. Thankfully, even with it being a glorious day, we arrived before the crowds and though it was fairly busy, found a couple of seats at a small table and then mum ordered food. A pint of cola and ice came before the meal and I was so thirsty I almost downed the lot in just a couple of gulps. That was in spite of mum telling me to take it slow. When the meal arrived mum ordered another cola for me and another wine for her and we ate a very pleasant Ploughman’s lunch, with an order of chips. I knew they were more for me than mum and covered in ketchup I couldn’t get enough, although mum insisted I ate the salad that went with the cheesy dish. After we’d finished the meal the sun was still shining brightly and whilst a relaxed mum had another glass of wine, I went off to play with some other kids whose parents were also having a drink and a meal. I’m not sure how long we played before mum was calling me over and saying it was time we got going. I said my goodbyes and we walked to the bus stop. We waited for the bus that seemed to be taking for ages and I was bursting for a wee. I was just about to excuse myself and go behind some bushes when it arrived. It was the slowest bus I’d ever been on stopping at every stop. When we got off to change to the one back to our house I was hoping I might be able to pop into the public toilet at the bus station but our bus was in so mum just climbed on board. I hadn’t mentioned my need for a wee and I thought I’d be able to last until we got home. Alas, two pints of ice cold cola, sloshing around was pressing hard on my bladder and unfortunately, before we got off the bus the front of my shorts were soaked. Mum didn’t even know I’d wet my pants until we stood up to get off and then she saw the state of my clothes and the puddle of pee under the seat. I think she was too embarrassed to say anything to the driver and we got off the bus pretty quickly. As the bus disappeared mum looked at me with a sort of strange appraising stare. “Ohh Davey, Davey, Davey... what are we going to do with you?” I was incredibly self-conscious because not only had I soaked my undies and shorts at the front but it had pooled around my bottom on the bus’s plastic seat and I had the wettest of wet bums. At that moment there was nothing mum could do about it and with our home not too far away I had to suffer the stares and unspoken condemnation as we walked that short (although it felt like miles) distance. Once inside mum was quick to help me off with my clothes. She didn’t wait for me to do it myself and I was stripped in the kitchen within seconds of us getting through the front door. My stuff was immediately thrown into the washing machine and, after dumping in some washing powder, she set it going. She then turned her attention to me. I was naked and looking down at the ground embarrassed on two levels. “Why didn’t you tell me you needed the loo?” “I’m sorry mum... I thought I could make it but...” “Somebody has to sit on the seat...” I think she realised she was complicit in keeping quiet on that front. “I’m really sorry mum.” I was standing with my head bowed, my hands trying to hide my pee-pee and still totally naked. “Pleeeaaasssseee... don’t be angry.... I am sorry.” Mum was staring at me and I wasn’t sure what was going through her mind. “Look love. I’m not angry... just... just surprised that’s all.” I was glad she wasn’t angry but she was taking a long time in allowing me to get dressed. “I’m sorry.” I wasn’t sure how many times I’d have to say it before I could put some pants on. Eventually she seemed to make a decision. “Okay, let’s get you cleaned up and into something... nice and dry... ehhh?” #tbc#

Dreamer I stretched, yawned and wriggled myself awake. I reached for my phone to check the time - 7.28 - fantastic, the best continuous night’s sleep I’d had for quite some time. Well, apart from a visit to the bathroom for a piss but otherwise, over ten hours. I was quite pleased with myself. I laid in my warm cocoon knowing that any minute I had to get up for school but so pleased with myself for catching up on what had been a few awful restless nights, I wanted to make the most of my bed’s welcoming comfort. I slipped my hand further under the blanket and rubbed up against the thick plastic pants, the huge expanded bulk underneath told me I hadn’t had the wonderful damp-free night I thought I’d had. How come I can dream of going to the toilet and executing a wonderful, no-hassle pee, yet in reality I can never rouse myself from the sleep I’m having? Even when I’m having a terrible night’s sleep, with constant wakeful interruptions, it’s when I doze, even for a few seconds that my bladder tends to operate under its own terms. In my dreams I can simply get up and go. Mind you, I tend not to be wearing thick padding in my dreams so can easily access my straining cock. I suppose that’s another thing; how come I dream so much of taking a piss? There’s never any huge build up to it, I just go and feel the relief afterwards as if I’d naturally gone to the loo. I can often hear my pee hitting the water or bouncing off the porcelain so that makes me think that my dream is real and I’m doing it for real. Except I’ve slept through the entire event and flooded my nappy, though I have to admit that is a lot better than a waterlogged bed. I hope one day someone can explain just how that works because so far doctors, relations and even Google have been unable to come to any agreement on the matter. I’ll grant that they all have good ideas but the actual reason appears to be one hell of a mystery. I mean, how can it be that for the most part of my life, well since I was three to just a few months ago I slept happily dry but not so now? As far as I can remember there’s been no trauma or accident or anything that could have caused me to suddenly lack the ability to get up in the night for a pee. It’s simply ridiculous. How can I dream the action but not action the action? # My bedroom door opens and in walks mum. A few weeks ago she used to knock first but now I’m in nappies she seems to think she can come in when she likes. I’ve tried to explain this to her, that I need some privacy, but she just ignores my request and simply refuses to see my argument. She says that now I’m wetting secrecy is a thing of the past. Apparently she’s there to make sure I’m awake and remind me I have school (as if I wasn’t aware) and to make sure that these unfortunate incidents haven’t had an adverse effect on me. She doesn't want me hiding myself away and worrying about it. “Just making sure you’re okay and slept well... and both your father and I want you to know... this will pass before long.” Actually, what I think she’s doing is checking her plan of putting me back in night time nappies and plastic protection is working and that her precious bedding is safe. I first wet the bed almost three months ago and mum was quick to suggest I wore a nappy. Of course I resented the very idea but she said that her brother, my Uncle Tom (who now lives in Australia), had a similar problem when he was my age and their mother’s quick decision to make him wear protection had saved everyone a load of heartache. Like me he disagreed with her solution to the problem, and also like me found he had no option. It was simple, cheap and completely effective in what it had to do, whilst a consensus of family opinion meant that a nappy was the answer so, as a shy teenager like me, he didn’t get a say in that particular outcome. My gran (a strong-willed woman to say the least) had been definite that the bed, bedding, jammies and the self-esteem of not swirling around in a sea of urine made it so no one but her son was affected by his burst of incontinence. Apparently he wore that bedtime protection for another twelve months or so before he seemed to “Grow out of it”. Mum applied the same logic to me and despite my teenage tantrum, denials and pleading, I was put back into nappies and made to wear vinyl pants to avoid any chance of leakage. The speed that mum had everything at her disposal was frightening, as if she’d expected me to have this problem at some point in my school life. She alleged that after that first morning of finding me in a wet bed she remembered Tom’s problem and immediately went into overdrive, locating everything she thought I’d need online and spent the day collecting it. She said she wouldn’t allow me to have a second night wallowing around in a pee-soaked bed, especially when there was such a simple preventative system she intended putting into practice. I came home from school to find my dresser just a pile of fabric nappies and a couple of packets containing ‘baby’ pants. There was a small bowl with baby pins (pink, green and blue) and an array of powders and creams, I was stunned mum had garnered together this arsenal of products to take care of my one night of bed-wetting. It was a huge surprise for a fourteen year old schoolboy. I found these ranks of supplies for an accidental, once in a lifetime, wet bed a bit over the top and quite wounded by just how convinced she was that I’d need it all. Waking up to such a mishap was an ordeal (and awful shock) in itself and although I wasn’t expecting too much sympathy I did think she’d see it as just a freak event. It wasn’t like I’d been secretly drinking or got myself into a state... it was simply misfortune. As I lay on my bed and looked at the stuff I wondered why, if she thought I needed it, she hadn’t just bought a pack of Pampers disposables and then seen how things progressed from there. That pile suggested she was getting ready for a long campaign, whilst I thought it was just a one off, a misfortune and nothing to go to such extremes over. As far as I was concerned this wasn’t a calamity - just an unlucky accident. I tried to argue that point but she wouldn’t heed my objection and said it was best to be on the safe side. She was of the firm opinion that making sure my bed and bedding was defended from ‘further urinary damage’ should I pee again, was a worthy principle; laundry would be less and I’d be the only one affected. She couldn’t see a downside to her argument and I failed to defend my case with any hope of success. She promised that if I didn’t wet for a ‘few’ (unspecified) nights then she’d re-think the nappies. I looked at the supplies piled up on the dresser and knew she was expecting the worst. # Actually, when I think about it, this wasn’t the first time I’d wet the bed. When I’d just turned twelve I was having trouble sleeping, I didn’t know why I just was having such terrible interrupted nights. My brain would fixate on one subject (usually of no relevance to anything I could recall) and would lie in bed tossing and turning as if trying to shake the thing from my brain. At the time mum was also having trouble sleeping and was using a programme of ‘natural sounds and delta waves’ to enable a peaceful night’s slumber. It appeared to have worked, as she was far more relaxed and offered the IPad to see if it would do the same for me. Mum herself was against using pills and ‘medicine’ at the best of times and preferred either to let nature take its course (as with colds and flu) or try something natural, like sounds and meditation. She wasn't a homeopathic nutter but thought quite a lot of things would sort themselves out in due course. As the sounds had some effect on her, suggested I give it a try. I scrolled down the ‘relaxing sounds’ section and found one I thought would work for me – Rain Forest. I was expecting the night calls and general wind-in-trees type of thing but in fact it was just as it said; rain... in the rain forest. I don’t know how or why it happened but I woke up in quite a large puddle of my own pee. I was shocked and worried what mum would say but she just laughed (yes laughed) and said she found it funny that the rain forest had made me soak my PJs. However, she also explained that was why all our mattresses in the house had protectors over them... because you never knew when a nocturnal mishap might occur. Anyway, despite her good humour on that occasion, as she stripped the bed and sent me to get a shower she did say that if it happened again, for whatever reason, I’d be wearing nappies to sleep in from then on. I think she was just firing a warning shot because I didn’t pee the bed again until, well, I’ve just told you. However, the speed she got all the stuff together made me think that maybe she had some items already. Meanwhile, I dumped those little night rhythms and sounds and slept without any help from the Amazonian Rain Forest or any other supposedly relaxing therapy. # I can tell you that at fourteen years old I dreaded any of my friends finding out but in our small community, and mum being a very chatty person with all the neighbours, my secret couldn’t last long. However, she did say that I wasn’t the only one with such a ‘problem’ but wouldn’t tell me who the other person(s) were. I spent quite a bit of time scrutinising the washing lines between my home and school for some indication. I thought if my nappies were blowing in the wind, which they seemed to be on a daily basis, and then there was a good chance theirs would be too. I did see the occasional pair of plastic pants and nappies drying on the line but thought they were too small to belong to anyone but a baby. Knowing there were others, but finding no evidence to back mum’s declaration, I began to feel alone and a bit stupid. I mean, staring at folks washing was definitely a bit pervy. However, the main problem was... why should I start pissing the bed? Suddenly I was waking up to a soaked nappy (as mum had predicted). It just didn’t make any sense unless I was regressing back to my childhood. However, like I told you when I was twelve, any last thought at night began to occupy my nocturnal deliberations and sleep was difficult. When I did drop off I dreamt of babies (of which I was one) and when awake that notion just kept turning over in my mind. It was uncomfortable on so many levels, none of which I was happy with... I just wanted to sleep at night and wake up dry. Don’t ask me why that particular ‘being a baby’ theory should have taken over my mind but it did. (I suppose the nightly nappy and plastic pants made a bigger impression on my psyche than I’d given it credit for.) I convinced myself that’s just what I was and daily got more and more depressed as I thought about it. I slipped from being a reasonably outgoing lad, to a self-pitying toddler. Each night, as I fitted my nightly cushion of protection, I felt myself slipping further and further back to my childhood. I’d get upset if I couldn’t get the pins in right, or pricked myself, or I’d not fastened the nappy on tight enough. I was a mess and, if no one else was around, I’d even shed a few miserable, frustrated tears. Pulling up the plastic pants (which mum insisted I always wore with a nappy) more or less proved I was a baby. So that act and thought would stick with me and the entire dream scenario would kick off again. It was like that particular theme was on constant replay. # Equally, if I managed to avoid that specific dream the other one, the one where I knew I was peeing into a toilet, took centre stage. I’d confidently spray the white ceramic bowl, listening to the splash that indicated my aim was true, often zipping up and moving on to continue to do whatever it was I was doing before my toilet break. It was two very exacting dreams; one where I was a baby, the other where I was myself, but both ended with a wake-up call of soggy misery. However, they weren’t the only two because later I dreamt I was in church, singing along with the rest of the congregation when suddenly I felt the spirit of the Lord enter me... except it wasn’t the spirit of the Lord. That nice warming glow that was wonderful and uplifting was a tepid sodden nappy when I woke up. The reason this was strange was that as a family, we didn’t go to church. Mum and dad weren’t interested and the only times I remember going was for a wedding and a couple of Christenings, other than that my experience of church was limited. However, I do watch a lot of television and it is more than likely that I was influenced by something I saw... but I don’t know what. What was even worse was that it wasn’t every morning that I woke up soaked. For instance, last Monday and Tuesday I was dry. I was jubilant for twenty four hours but Wednesday night I wet, Thursday was dry but this morning... incredibly soaked. Of course, the few weeks prior I’d wet almost every night so even when I did wake up dry the feelings of euphoria only lasted a short while. Mum had gone out of her way to make sure that the rubber pants she bought were the most sturdy she could find, so the things I had to wear at night gripped me tightly so there was no danger at all of fluid escape. I even went back to wearing jammies over them in the hope of disguising the bulk a little bit but in the end I was so hot I could hardly bear wearing anything to sleep in other than what I had to. # Although nappies were the first recourse for mum she did, after visits to the doctor and a child psychologist (which she was dead against but dad insisted I give it a go), suggested I try yoga. Having had all the other attempts at curbing my nightly flood fail: From drinking less, to getting woken up in the middle of the night - those relaxing tapes, to various homeopathic potions, it seemed an option I should at least attempt. I just couldn’t take seriously all these po-faced, loose-limbed women (only one guy) stretching and being some kind of ‘downward dog’ or some such, it left me mentally mocking the entire group. I’m sure if they knew I was a fourteen year-old still wetting the bed, they might have been ridiculing me. Anyway, I left them and tried visualisation. The trouble with this was, as soon as I found my vision, it would be usurped by my baby or toilet ‘situation’ and then that was all that occupied my head. Someone suggested to mum that I try hypnosis but she was even more sceptical about that and told her friend that she’d keep that suggestion on the back-burner for a while to see if I improved naturally. I didn’t. The doctor did eventually prescribe some pills, much to mum's resistance, but they had no effect either. So, a dry nappy with thick and durable see-thru plastic pants became the last thing I saw at night and a wet bulky one the first thing I saw in the morning. To feel the morning tightness of an expanded pair of slippery looking plastic pants let me know, in a totally unsubtle manner, that I’d wet again. I could have done without that particular wake-up call. Having said that, despite that firm grip being annoying in the beginning, it didn’t take me too long to come to terms with that particular sensation. Mum had said that I should think of them like a knight relies on his armour for protection and he wouldn’t be daft enough to wonder into a battle zone wearing just his vest and pants (we both giggled at this bizarre comparison). Although my parents were resolute in their actions they just took it as read that these things happen. Punishment or angry voices were never part of their dealing with what was going on. I suppose with Uncle Tom to point to as proof of this philosophy, I didn’t get any negativity at home. However, before they retired for the night mum or dad would come and check to make sure I wasn’t already wet because mum said I should try and prevent laying around in a damp nappy for too long. I don’t think they ever changed me whilst I slept because I’m sure I would have woken up if they’d tried. However, I wasn’t certain if I thought it weird or comforting that they checked. # As I say, mum had bought in all new stuff to cope with my situation. Mrs Pradesh, our neighbour, whose own family had grown up and moved away, offered some of the stuff they’d worn as kids should I need it but mum declined. Apparently, they’d been late in toilet training and she had quite a collection of preventative clothing. Just how late they were in coming to terms with the potty she never revealed but, judging by the size of their colourful nappies, they were at least as old as me. I’d got around a dozen white terry fabric nappies and half a dozen different pairs of vinyl pants, some of which seemed a little more robust than others. Waking up saggy and soggy, whilst these stout pants made sure I was leak-proof, was an interesting way to start the day. I say interesting, what I mean is...not very ego boosting. My self-esteem dipped and the need for that night time force-field was all I could think about... and be indebted to. The paraphernalia of making sure the required area was clean, dry and (mum insisted) smooth, together with the thick preventative creams, lotions and powders I had to administer each night made bed time a complete humiliation. Mum had talked me through the nappy operation at the beginning but then said she trusted me to do it properly myself. Then, having had one or two leaking problems because I hadn’t been thorough enough, threatened to come up and do it herself, which would mean an early bedtime of 7.30. At fourteen I didn’t want to be called in for bed that early as it would have been total humiliation for my mates to know about it. So, I knuckled down and made sure I did as good a job as mum in getting my nappy and protection up to speck. She also threatened there’d be sporadic, unannounced checks and, should it not be in place correctly, it would be a 6pm bedtime and she would supervise every aspect of getting me ready “Like I did when you were a baby”. She smiled as she said this but I’m convinced she meant it. As you might imagine this focused my attention on every detail mum had advocated. # I tried to get dad on side but he was in complete agreement with mum and, in an effort to stop my constant grumbling promised that I’d be wearing a nappy all day as well as all night if I didn’t do as they said... and ‘stop whining’. Dad saying that, and mum threatening a 6pm bed time, made me take my wetting a bit more seriously. I had been thinking that I shouldn’t be punished for something I had no control over but they said I wasn’t being punished for that... my wet nights were being contained. What I would be punished for was my constant complaining and miserable face, which they said they shouldn’t be punished having to look at when my wetting wasn’t their fault. Why do parents have the clever come backs? I have to admit since I’d started wetting I was constantly in a mood. I couldn’t see any upside to my problem and I dreaded my friends catching on... although one or two might have known, no one said anything... to my face anyway. Either side my immediate neighbours didn’t have kids my age. The Wilson's at Number 14 had twins almost two years ago, whilst the Pradesh’s at Number 18 had grown up kids who’d left and had families of their own. What this meant was that the washing line wasn’t over-looked by any of my school friends so my daily laundry was hidden from any possible prying eyes. However, both sides offered mum their support and empathy having a teenager still in need of protection. So, as I mentioned, last night I dreamt I’d gone to the toilet with no problem, yet woke up as normal sopping wet. After three months it was all getting too much and I was severely depressed not wanting to do much or go anywhere. Then it happened, the one thing I was positive would never happen, Saturday morning I fell asleep in front of the TV and, wearing only a pair of cotton briefs under my P.E. shorts, peed myself and soaked the sofa. ~ tbc ~

Diving for Love Darren and Paul were not only best friends they were also one of Britain's best hopes in the up-coming European Synchronised Diving Championships. They had been best mates since they were ten and now, at 18, they had formed a tremendous chemistry that made each know and do whatever the other was thinking. As divers, that had to be split-second perfect, not only to complete the precise entry, but to do it as one, it had taken real effort and determination to succeed on both their parts. Standing at the top of the high board together, looking identical in their pale blue, bum hugging, crotch enhancing Speedos, their mental fusion was total. As they bounced on their toes, making calf and thigh muscles strain, arms held high, each smooth chest taut under the forceful push-off into the air, the perfect spin, the graceful twirls and the sleek slip into the water, only they knew how they had perfected that union of souls - eight years earlier… with a kiss. No matter what psychiatrists, specialists or people who think they know say… even at the age of ten these two friends knew they wanted to be together. Through school, through sport and through their young lives they had always been there for each other; helping, encouraging and loving. People who knew them couldn’t help but notice the synchronicity of their minds and bodies. In class they raised their hands together to answer questions, in tests they got the same marks and in sport they matched each other perfectly in whatever game they undertook. Some teachers tried to split them up, put them on opposing teams, but that would usually end in disaster because apart - they just didn’t function correctly. What their teachers didn’t know was when the boys were ten they had committed themselves to one and other. Where this idea of commitment at such a tender age had come from, no-one but the lads themselves knew and it remains a mystery to the public to this day. Only Darren and Paul knew why, at the age of ten they had kissed, or why from that day to this, they always kissed when together. What people didn’t know was that also at ten they realized they had something else in common… they both wore nappies to bed. It was when Darren was having a sleepover at Paul’s that they’d embarrassingly discovered their mutual secret. As it turned out, it was the thing that drew them together, the thing that made them special and also what made them inseparable. They knew, even at that early age, if they were to survive peer pressure and bullying, they needed each other for comfort and strength. They built up a formidable partnership. They indulged in their passion for diving and swimming whilst enjoying the thing that set them apart… their love for thick and copious protection. Each secure in the comfort of their partner’s love. Other kids called them names and tried to shun them but the truth was… it was Darren and Paul who shunned all the others. No one could get close to them without both boys wanting that to happen. Hell, even their diving coach was kept at arms length by the two as they explored and honed their developing aerial gymnastic skills. Jealousy and envy followed the two friends as they ignored the rest of the world and only listened to each other. That commitment was now paying off as with each synchronized dive they got nearer to perfection. They knew this wasn’t a ‘big time’ sport but medals bred interest and now the cameras were on them for the final dive of the competition. As they waited to be called, and in front of a European television audience of millions, they kissed each other passionately before climbing up to their starting points. A gasp could be heard from the crowd watching at the pool, no doubt echoed in the homes of the viewers, but they didn’t know that this specific act of love and friendship was the thing that made these supreme athletes the winners they were about to become. A deafening hush descended on the pool as the two boys gathered at the 10-meter board edge. Separated by just a few centimetres, concentrating but not looking at each other, they took their cue purely on instinct. Legs bent to launch themselves high into the air in perfect formation, the elevated twist, the super sleek multiple spins, the final tumble and the perfect entry into the water took just a couple of seconds but they emerged to see the scores; the highest scores ever recorded… and it was unanimous. The crowd went mental. A perfect score was never easy to attain but the boys had pulled it off. The viewers at home might have caught the brief underwater shot of our two champions embracing briefly just before they surfaced, in unison, to the side of the pool. But what no one could have foreseen was the way these two best friends would be catapulted to superstardom on the back of that televised aquatic kiss. The world wanted to know them, sponsors wanted to endorse them and the media wanted to expose them to a bigger audience. They celebrated their gold medals at home in their favourite thick terry nappies but now wore sleek, glass-like golden plastic pants to commemorate that victory. Again, the boys were in perfect sync as they climbed into bed and indulged in their favourite celebration. ####

Hi, I'm a diaper lover who can get really dirty. Give me an email I would love to exchange videos and chat about my naughtiness. Hope to make some diaper friends that I can open up too about everything.

Jonny Nine months ago a sleepy and very tired Jonny had been woken up by a noise he couldn’t place. There were grunts and screams, rattles and bangs coming from his mother’s bedroom all of which scared him. Although he was afraid he knew he had to protect his mother so cautiously tiptoed to her closed bedroom door and listened. The noise was even worse and the screams became more intense. Hoping to save his mummy from an attacker he rushed in to find her naked, on her knees and being assaulted from behind by an equally naked man. “Stop hurting my mummy.” He screamed and launched his slim, four foot frame at the assailant. The naked couple looked shocked at the sudden arrival of this fierce little boy who, with a high-pitched cry and arms waving in an attempt to rid his mummy of her naked partner, pushed the surprised man off his mother. The place reeked of sweat and something else young Jonny couldn’t quite recognise but knew it was something evil and it was only when his mother grabbed him and hugged him close did he stop his attack. At this point his shamefaced mother was embarrassed at the level to which her excitement had built and that Thomas, her partner, had equally got lost in the moment. “There, there, sweetheart...” she shushed and held her struggling son tightly, “nothing to upset yourself about... erm... mummy and her friend were just having a bit of fun.” “But, but, you were crying out, you were being hurt... you were...” His mother held him close to her sweaty naked breast, partly in shame and partly because she didn’t want to hear from her son about the noise they’d been making. “No sweetheart, I can honestly say that mummy and her friend were having a really nice time...” “But you were crying out and moaning...” “Look love, I’ll explain everything in the morning but for now. This is my friend Mr Wilkinson from work and he and I are getting to know each other a little better.” “Hi,” a sheepish looking naked man spoke to Jonny. “I’m Tom, erm, your mum’s boy... errrrr... a friend, a workmate, a...” But the poor boy was in floods of tears now he could see what the naked, well-built man was forcing into his mother. She knew this would probably be making no sense to her apprehensive and naive eight year-old son but felt proud that the little mite had burst in trying to save her. Tom tried to ruffle his hair in a friendly gesture but Jonny would have none of it and gave him daggers. # After about half an hour of placating words she eventually got him to return to his own room. However, the sights, sounds and smells lingered in his head as he tried to get back to sleep. It took some time. Every time he closed his eyes all he could see was his naked mother, blonde hair dishevelled, sweating, naked and a muscled man hammering away at her. The following morning was the first time he woke up to find his bed saturated. When for the next week each morning produced the same results, it was then his mother eventually talked him into wearing a nappy at night as protection. The plastic pants followed about two days later after a particular soggy, leaky night meant everything was wet once again. After that, robust protection surrounded her little boy every night from then on. He wasn’t happy about his mother’s action but knew there was little alternative. Jonny discerned that when he dreamed, he dreamed of that moment and everything about that terrible experience; the stink, the heaving, sweating, moaning and his own terror coupled with the horrifying sight of seeing his mother mounted like she had been reduced him to a terrified, bed-wetting kid. He couldn’t explain the trauma the scene had caused, nor could he escape what happened when he closed his eyes and the entire act repeated in his head. All he knew, and all anyone else knew, was that the morning would produce a soaked nappy. For the first two weeks after that event he wet every single night, after that it began to lessen in intensity but still produced a soaked nappy at least once a week, though often more. Theresa, his mummy, guessed what the problem might be but was unable to think of a way to rectify what her son had witnessed. She hoped time would heal the wounds. # Over the coming weeks it became apparent that Jonny was about to get a new daddy. Tom was a regular visitor and although the boy was unsure, because his mother was happy, he made an effort when they met. Jonathan, or Jonny as everyone called him, was just over four feet tall, thick brown hair, brown eyes and an open face that made the girls in his class at school go all ‘gooey’. He was a popular boy, good humoured, definitely not a bully and teachers liked his lively attitude. However, although his teachers didn’t know the reason, since that ‘night time discovery’ he had become a bit more reserved. Later, he was introduced to Tom’s family. He himself had been previously married but lost his wife to cancer a few years earlier after the birth of their second child, Paul. Paul was now four and had a sister Gemma was around the same age as Jonny. That first ‘family’ meeting was a tense affair, mainly because of Jonny’s reluctance to embrace the fact that his mother and Tom were planning to get hitched. All he could see was that huge brute of a man doing awful things to his mummy... and he didn’t like it. The image was burnt into his brain and was a constant reminder of that appalling night-time experience. He couldn’t un-see what he’d seen. However, Theresa sweet-talked him into accepting the situation so the two families began to spend more time in each other’s company. # In many ways Tom was like Jonny’s mother, kind and gentle and made a fuss of Jonny and treated him like he did his own kids. They went to the movies and theme parks, on picnics and to the fun fair where they always had a terrific time. He could see his mother was madly in love, and, despite her best efforts, Jonny was still reluctant to be completely involved. However, a date for the wedding was set and Tom’s mother, Gwen, who had more or less helped bring up his two children after their mother died, was given the job of organising the event. She was very pleased to help and often babysat the kids when the two love-birds needed time on their own. The registry office was booked and Gwen planned the outfits for them all to wear. The six foot, broad outline of Tom looked good in a finely tailored blue suit. Theresa wore a cream coloured flowing dress that had a blue, lacy covering, which made it look very special indeed. Gemma, wore a similar outfit except in reverse, a blue dress with a white lacy covering which had the sweet girl beaming with pleasure. The two boys wore matching outfits; white thigh length shorts with white knee-high stockings and blue sandals, white shirts, blue tie and matching blue blazers. Gwen herself having a very stylish but slightly more matriarchal blue dress with an intense lacy design more suited to a woman of her age. Everyone looked fantastic except one disgruntled boy who was less than happy with wearing the same as a four year old. Despite his mother saying how nice and smart he appeared, in each photo he looked more and more depressed, ruining any photograph he was in. None of those attending the wedding could get even a slight smile from him. He was not happy being treated in such a way and sullenly sat at the kid’s table with his new brother and sister and various cousins. Gwen was getting tired of his attitude and, when mummy and his new daddy were having their first dance at the reception took the youngster aside and told him off. She pointed out that he was ruining his mother’s ‘special’ day and he was being impolite to the rest of the family. Jonny seethed with indignation as he looked across at Paul, who was happy and whirling around like a four year old in the middle of the dancefloor with people spurring him on. Why was he dressed like a toddler it just wasn’t fair. His resentment was curtailed when Gwen (or Nan as he’d been told to call her) pointed out that although Paul was only four, he didn’t wet the bed like a two year old and Jonny should be grateful that her son had agreed to take on the responsibility of such a spoilt bed-wetter who was thinking only of himself. Nan didn’t mean to be so harsh but was desperate to make the now nine year old see sense, as it was, he ran off to cry in the toilet. # She confessed what she’d said to her new daughter-in-law and apologised, she hadn’t meant it to sound so severe but Tom said to leave it to him and wandered off to the washrooms to find his new stepson. A tear-streaked Jonny was huddled in one of the cubicles but Tom was determined that today of all days he wanted to make sure Jonny didn’t feel all alone. “Jonathan... erm... Jonny.” Tom could hear the boy in the third cubicle sniffling. “Come out and come out now... we need to talk.” He spoke calmly but with authority, he didn’t want to scare the upset boy but thought he should take command and try to console the poor kid. “I don’t want to talk... she’s already said I‘m nothing but a burden and a little baby...” Tom swallowed, he knew his mother wasn’t normally nasty and this was completely out of character for her but, no matter how disastrously, she was only trying to help. However, knowing how the situation could escalate and become much worse he put on his most consoling voice to cajole the boy from his hiding place. “Look, Nan didn’t mean anything by that... she was just trying to make you think of your mum and me... it is our wedding after all...” There was silence from inside the cubicle. “I thought you’d be happy that your mummy was happy and I know both Paul and Gemma are thrilled to have a new brother.” It was true; both of Tom’s kids had made a fuss of Jonny from the very first time they met. Paul especially liked the idea of having an older brother because in looks at least, they were very similar. Whilst feisty, yet funny, Gemma thought her new step-brother was “kinda cute”. Even though she was just six weeks older than Jonny, they seemed to be a huge age difference, probably because since her mum died she’d been helping her dad and Nan bring up her little brother. Both of Tom’s kids also adored Theresa. She was kind, loving and it had to be said, they’d never seen their dad look happier than when in her company. In this happy family Jonny was in the minority of one when it came to dis-satisfaction. He’d tried to be understanding, as understanding as a nine year old can be but the fact was, all he ever saw when anywhere near Tom was that awful scene in his mother’s bedroom. Even though his mother had explained the situation, that image had burned into his brain, and he had trouble dealing with it. His random wet nights were proof of that. Tom continued. “Come and join us for some final photographs... I’m sure your mummy would love to have at least a couple with her son smiling on them.” “But, but, I look like a toddler.” “Actually Jonny, everyone thinks you look fantastic, smart, a credit to your mother... and she thinks the world of you...” He heard the cubicle door unlatch. It was then that Tom realised that wasn’t what Jonny was referring to... the front of his white shorts had a visible wet stain down the front. “I got scared when... er... Nan... told me off... and I, I...” For a brief second Tom thought he did look like a toddler; the shame and anxiety etched into his young face but smiled and told him not to worry it was hardly noticeable and easily fixed. Although in truth he wasn’t sure how he just wanted to get his new stepson out of the toilet and for them to re-join the rest of the guests. # Nervously, the soaked lad joined the rest of the crowd. Nobody noticed and no one said anything. Nan did eventually shuffle up and apologised for upsetting him. It was only the second time any adult had said ‘sorry’ to him and he was taken slightly aback. The first had been his mother the day after that ‘incident’. “Look,” Gwen said, “I know I made things worse and I didn’t mean to... I just tried to jig you out of being miserable on your mum’s special day and I’m sorry because I did it all wrong.” She sounded sincere and Jonny didn’t know where to put himself because it was his fault, he had been acting petulantly for no reason. Especially, as the shorts and blazer he and Paul wore to compliment what everyone else was wearing had been admired, including by the official photographer. He felt guilty now for not smiling and said sorry back to Nan. “That’s all right dear but let’s get some pics now eh?” “Erm, I’d rather not because, um,” he faltered, and showed Nan what the problem was. “Oh I see, look,” she said brightly, “I have brought something you can change into... a nice disposable... just in case Paul got over excited. Would you like me to change you and then at least you don’t have to suffer wet undies?” She could see him wavering. “I doubt if anyone can tell from your shorts... but you must be feeling very squishy and uncomfortable in your cold damp undies so let’s at least sort that little problem out.” Nan was both soothing and persuasive and it wasn’t like she’d not seen his nappy before when she’d babysat and got him ready for bed. The family knew he wore padding under his pyjamas so wearing a disposable would hardly be a first. She was right about the clammy, itchiness and he saw the benefit of getting a change though wished it didn’t have to be a nappy. They may be okay to wear in bed and under his jammies but worried that some of the wedding guests might notice. However, after a few more words of encouragement he followed Nan to a private room where she was able to change him. He was very grateful to get out of his wet briefs and did feel a lot more comfortable. Nan had in her bag some wet-wipes and a little tub of talc, and had helpfully packed a pair of plastic pants. However, the disposable was quite thick, which left him feeling very conscious of what he was wearing especially when eventually he danced with his mother. It was also amazing how, once he’d been changed, his attitude changed, and in each of the following photographs saw a very happy, smiling boy. # tbc #

Chapter 1 Billy could sense the light before he even opened his eyes. He couldn’t remember anything; the last thing he could remember was pain. He opened his eyes; he was lying in what appeared to be a hospital bed, bit by bit he started to piece together the events that led him here. Billy’s life had been hell since the death of his grandmother 6 years ago. His Mum, who had only been 17 when she had him, had been mostly absent during the first 9 years of his life, while his grandmother raised him. When her mother died, she moved into her house with Gary, her boyfriend, who eventually became her husband. When his Mum died, Billy was left at the mercy of his sadistic stepfather. Gary would get very angry and lash out, mostly on the parts of the body that didn’t show, so no one ever noticed at school. They never noticed anything at school, not the fact that Billy’s uniform was threadbare and two sizes too small, or that his shoes had holes, or that he was dangerously skinny. Gary would only let him eat more than one slice of bread if he thought he deserved it. He would often go days with only a slice of bread a day to survive on. If he dared ask for more food he would be beaten. If only someone had noticed something was wrong he might have been saved. Billy remembered coming home from school at the usual time. He headed upstairs to hide away in his bedroom as usual, only this day Gary stood at the top of the stairs, blocking his path. “Do you think I’m stupid?!” he roared, taking out his wallet, “Did you think I wouldn’t notice the money missing?!” “I didn’t –" began Billy “LIAR!” Gary slapped him in the face. “You probably gave it all to your dealer,” mumbled Billy. “What was that?!” roared Gary, “Who do you think you are?! You live under my roof and you will show some respect you little shit!” “It’s not YOUR roof it’s my Gran’s roof!” Billy could hardly recall what happened next, he remembered he fell; Gary must have pushed him, or hit him too hard. He landed at the bottom of the stairs on his back, after his head came into contact with the bottom of the banister. He remembered the terrible pain he felt, before he lost consciousness. Gary, thinking he had killed him, tried to do a runner. Their next door neighbour had heard the noise and called the police. The police caught up to Gary a few days later. He ended up spending months in a hospital bed, with a broken back and brain damage. He had to have operations on his spine; the doctors said he was very lucky to not be paralysed. Billy didn’t feel very lucky, he often felt confused and disoriented, he used to be very good in school, and now his brain functioned much slower, making him feel dumb. His bladder and bowels had been damaged to the point where he no longer had control over either, he now had to wear nappies, possibly for the rest of his life. The only good thing to come out of this was that Gary was now behind bars. Slowly, Billy’s injuries started to heal. He had a visit from a woman named Claire, who called herself a social worker. She told him that he would be leaving the hospital that day and going to live with his new foster parents. A nurse came and changed his nappy, then helped him get dressed in a white and blue striped t shirt, grey sweatpants (nice and baggy, they did a good job of hiding his disposable nappy), a black zip hoodie and a pair of black plimsolls. He gathered these must have been charitable donations, they weren’t his and they looked worn. Billy sat nervously in the back seat of Claire’s car. He had been in foster care before, right after his Nan died…when Mum finally decided to turn up (months after the funeral) social services released him to her. He was in foster care again when he was a little older, this time it was just after his Mum died; Gary fought to get custody (for the child benefits) so social services released him to his stepfather, leaving the poor boy at his mercy. When Gary gets out of prison would they make him go back to him?! The car pulled up in front of a respectable looking bungalow, Billy realised they were in the middle class part of town. There was a wheelchair ramp leading to the front door. “Mr and Mrs Summers have taken care of lots of disabled children,” Claire explained as she led him up the ramp and rang the doorbell. The door opened a few moments later to reveal a mature woman, who looked to be in her fifties. “Oh, you must be Billy,” she said warmly, taking his hand and leading him indoors. “Nice to meet you Mrs Summers,” Billy responded, politely and shyly. “None of that formal nonsense,” she replied, “you can call me Auntie May.” “I’ve got to get on,” said Claire, “I’ll come back in a couple of weeks to check that Billy’s settling in OK.” “You can’t stop for a cup of tea?” asked Auntie May. “I wish I could,” replied Claire, turning to walk back towards her car “But I’ve got so much to do today. Bye bye Billy!” Auntie May waved her goodbye before shutting the door. “Right then! First things first, how’s that nappy of yours looking?” she asked, but did not wait for an answer and slid down his sweatpants anyway and felt his crotch. “Soaking wet,” she declared, “and you look like you could do with a good scrub, so we’ll pop you in the bath before we get you into a nice clean nappy, OK?” “I had a shower this morning,” mumbled Billy. “Well they’re very busy in those hospitals, I’m sure they didn’t have enough time to give you decent showers while you were there,” said Auntie May, “I’ll run you a nice bath, and you can have some bubbles too! Doesn’t that sound lovely?” Billy did have to admit, it was a nice bubble bath. He couldn’t remember that last time he’s had such a relaxing bath. Auntie May gave him a good scrub down and washed his hair. She then removed his pubic hair with some removal cream. “It’s very unhygienic to have hair down there when you wear nappies,” she said, “I can’t believe they didn’t do this at the hospital!” She also removed the hair from his legs and under his armpits, declaring him to be “all nice and clean and smooth”. She left him in the bath to have a nice soak while she went and put lunch in the oven. She returned with a pile of towels and some other supplies. The plug was pulled from the bath and she took Billy’s hand to help him get out. Billy felt horribly bare and cold now that all of his body hair was gone. Auntie May helped him dry off with a large towel, she then draped it around his shoulders to keep him warm before sitting him on the toilet. She picked up a pair of scissors and went for his blonde hair, Billy squirmed. “Stay still,” she said firmly, “you hair currently looks more like a birds nest than anything else!” When she was finished Billy was left with a neat, fluffy bowl cut that made him look about 6. “Much better,” said Auntie, “now we’d better get a nappy on you before you have an accident!” She unfolded a large plastic changing pad, which had a cutesy pattern of jungle animals, and gesture for him to lie down on it. Billy did as he was told, and found himself being liberally coated with baby lotion, followed by a generous sprinkling of baby powder, which made him smell like a baby. She picked up the three remaining towels, they were thick white and fluffy, and started to fold them. Billy quickly realised that these were nappies, the old fashioned kind that babies wore decades ago. Auntie folded two of them together, with the third one folded as a booster pad. The end result was a very thick mass of padding wrapped around his bottom and forcing his legs apart, blue capped nappy pins held it all snugly in place. Finally, a pair of blue plastic pants patterned with farm animals went over his bulky underwear, Auntie made sure every bit of terry towelling was tucked in. “Now, I don’t have any clothes to fit over your nappy yet,” she said, “I’m going to take your measurements later and make you some clothes myself. It’s a nightmare trying to find clothes in the shops that fit comfortably over your nappy. In the meantime, you can just wear a t shirt with your nappy, or…I might have something else that fits, that will cover your nappy. Would you prefer that?” Billy nodded. Auntie left the room and returned a few moments later with what appeared to be a t shirt; it was made of yellow towelling. “This was worn by one of the little boys I used to look after,” she said, pulling the garment over his head and guiding his arms through the sleeves, “he was in nappies too and was about your size.” Auntie knelt down, fumbling with the bottom of the t shirt. Billy felt the material brush against his thigh…this seemed very long to be a t shirt. Billy looked down in time to see that the “t shirt” also had legs attached to it, with fastenings in the crotch; the legs went only an inch past the crotch of his nappy. He was wearing a baby’s romper! The bottom half fitted tautly over his thick underwear, although the garment covered his nappy it did not hide the fact that he was wearing one; his whole bottom half bulged. He noticed there was an adorable looking lamb appliqued on the front. He did have to admit it was comfortable, the towelling material felt nice and soft and it kept his nappy firmly in place and stopped it slipping down. Finally, Auntie slipped a pair of fuzzy yellow socks on his feet and folded them down. “There we go then,” she said, “let’s go have some lunch!” He was served fish fingers, potato waffles and beans for his lunch, Auntie cut up his food for him. “Oops a daisy,” said Auntie, wiping away some bean sauce that missed his mouth before it dribbled onto his clothes, “you don’t want to get your nice clean clothes dirty! Perhaps you need a bib!” Billy though she was joking for a moment…until she opened a drawer and pulled out a large plastic bib, it had a pattern of little lambs matching his romper and a pocket to catch bits of food. Auntie tied the bib around his neck, Billy felt a wave of humiliation of being put into yet another babyish garment and a stream of pee escaped into his thirsty nappies. He ate the rest of his food as carefully as possible, in an effort to prove he didn’t really need the bib. Sadly his co-ordination had taken a blow since the accident and his bib was covered in bean sauce and blackcurrant squash by the time he’d finished eating. Perhaps Billy needed it after all. After lunch Auntie took his measurements so she could get started on his new clothes right away. She was a skilled seamstress, and made children’s clothes to sell online. “You must be feeling a little tired now,” said Auntie, refastening him into his romper, “I think you should take a little nap.” “I’m not tired,” mumbled Billy. “Well, you look it to me,” she replied, taking his hand, “come on then” She walked him down the hall and ushered him into a very colourfully decorated bedroom. The walls were yellow with a wallpaper border featuring the characters from The Tweenies. A large built in closet took up most of one wall and a single bed occupied the opposite wall, the bed had Tweenies bedding to match the wallpaper and a child’s safety rail attached. A long shelf ran across another wall holding various cute cuddly toys and a three large storage tubs were stacked in one corner, each one filled to the brim with toys. Auntie led him by the hand over to the bed and lifted him onto it; Billy led down while Auntie secured the safety rail into place and covered him with a Mickey Mouse patterned fleece blanket. “Sweet dreams Billy,” she said softly, pausing to draw the curtains on her way out of the room. Billy awoke about two hours later to a saturated nappy. He debated getting up and asking Auntie to change him, but wondered if she would be angry at him for getting out of bed during nap time. Auntie didn’t seem the quick to anger type like some of his previous foster parents; she was firm, yet very kind and caring. Nevertheless, Billy decided to play it safe and wait for her to come back. He shifted about trying to get comfortable, which was very difficult in such a thick and soaking nappy. Auntie came in around fifteen minutes later; in that time Billy had done a number two in his nappy. He was disgusted with himself for not being able to control his poos and hated the warm sticky sensation. He was used to being stuck in pooey nappies; the nurses couldn’t always change him right away on the busy ward, where there were half a dozen other boys in nappies. Auntie could smell it as soon as she entered the room. “Phooey,” she exclaimed opening a window, “I think we’d better get you cleaned up hadn’t we?” She had him lying on the changing pad once again while she undid his romper. “Oh dear,” she said, noticing that a little bit of his poo had leaked onto the romper. She slid the romper over his head, careful not to get any of the poo on him as she did so, followed by his socks and the poo stained plastic pants. The inside of his nappy was a mess; it took ages to clean him up, with poor Billy getting more and more mortified by the minute. He was relieved when she had finished and began applying the lotion and powder. Finally Billy was pinned into fresh, thick nappies. Auntie went over to the dresser and pulled out some fresh plastic pants and a clean romper. The plastic pants were yellow with a pattern of bunny rabbits and the romper was made of pastel blue towelling and had a white bunny rabbit appliqued on the front. After she had dressed him she replaced his fluffy yellow socks. Auntie let him do what he wanted after that, Billy decided to take a little look at what was in the toy boxes. There was a mixed selection, with everything from baby toys, to Legos, to superhero action figures to baby dolls. “It looks like Uncle Dave will be working late tonight,” said Auntie when she brought in some squash for him, “you’ll meet him in the morning if you’re up before he leaves for work.” Billy took the cup; it was a toddler’s beaker cup with a lid. Billy went to unscrew the top but was immediately stopped by Auntie. “If you want a big boy cup you have to sit at the table,” she said, “I don’t want any spillages around the house.” Billy sucked the juice out of the toddler cup obediently, he immediately started peeing as soon as he finished. Great, he was now like one of those wetting baby dolls! Billy found a Bart Simpson puzzle and busied himself with that. It was only a 100-piece puzzle, something he would have found easy pre-accident, now he struggled quite a bit with it and hadn’t completed it when Auntie came in and told him it was bed time. The clock on the wall said it was only 6:30 and the sun was still up. “You’ve had a big day and you need your sleep,” said Auntie firmly when he protested, “You can leave your puzzle out and finish it tomorrow.” She ignored any further pleadings, Billy realised his complaints were futile. Auntie took out some fresh terry towelling nappies and plastic pants and Billy once again lay down on the changing pad. His night time nappies were quite a bit thicker than the ones he’d been wearing and Auntie used four layers for the ultimate protection. Walking was a near impossible feat for him now. Auntie removed his romper and replaced it with a plain white baby vest, the kind that stretches over the crotch and has poppers. Auntie had to turn him onto his tummy to fasten him in, as they were located at the back, totally out of reach of naughty fingers. It would be impossible for Billy to remove it himself. His bedtime attire was completed with a pair of peach coloured fleecy booties. After brushing his teeth Auntie tucked him into bed and drew the curtains. “I’ll be back in a moment,” she said leaving the room, “I’m going to make you some nice warm milk to help you sleep.” She returned minutes later with a clean bib and a baby’s bottle full of milk. The bib, which sported a picture of Peter Rabbit, was fastened around his neck. Auntie went to slide the teat of the bottle into his mouth, but Billy tried to refuse it. “Come on now,” she said firmly, “drink up your night-night milk like a good boy!” She kept pressing the teat against his firmly sealed lips until he finally gave in. She held the bottle in his mouth until every last drop was gone. She tucked him in and ruffled his hair before leaving the room, forgetting to remove his bib. Billy slowly drifted off, despite the daylight still shining through the crack in the curtains and the sounds of children still out playing.

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.

Circumcised I was ten when mum decided I should be circumcised. I’d become increasingly lazy when carrying out my visits to the bathroom. She was fed up with me missing the toilet bowl and I often departed unaware that I’d left a puddle of pee where I stood. This was because I had a very loose foreskin that, if I didn’t retract right back, often covered my pee-hole and sent trickles in different directions. Some pee hit the water so I assumed it all had but I didn’t check and a small (occasionally large) pool could often be left festering in front of the bowl and not in it. Also, as I was getting older, a lot of ‘stuff’ was beginning to gather under it, which in turn caused me some mild irritation. Mum would often say. “Terry, you’re at that age where these things matter, you must take much more care.” However, her constant nagging only made me care less and I became careless... I was ten and beginning to get insolent, not doing as I was told and thinking I knew best. I became a bit of a show off, not through any kind of theatrical talent but showing my contempt at authority to impress my school mates. As far as mum was concerned the final straw came when we had my Aunt Jen, Uncle Mark and their three children visiting. Of course, I’d used the loo last and uncaringly I’d left a rather large pee-slick on the tiled bathroom floor. My four year old cousin Tammy went and slipped in the puddle and banged herself pretty badly on the bowl. Of course her mum and dad thought she’d left the mess and although sympathetic to her injury blamed her for being negligent. Mum let it go, not saying it was my fault but letting me know by her looks that I should volunteer my culpability. I know mum was losing her patience but she never shouted, nor did she ever punish me, so I thought I was on relatively safe ground. However, it took a few of her fiercest stares for me to get the message and though reluctant I confessed my sins (I might have been becoming rebellious but not that rebellious). I saw the relief on mum’s face when I confessed (not a complete lost cause) and a strange feeling ran through my body. For the first time in quite some time, I’d made her proud of me... or so I hoped... and I liked the feeling. I was ten years old, I wanted to rebel and show I was growing up but that approval, that smile, made me briefly reassess the way I was acting. Alas, my aunt and uncle were furious that they’d blamed their sweet daughter, whilst mum, sensing an atmosphere, sent me to my room and was not allowed to continue to play with their two older boys Phil and Kevin. I’d been bragging to them that I could do anything before mum’s scary stare had made me lose a little face with my confession. However, they were equally fascinated and wanted to know why my foreskin caused so much havoc and sought to have a peek (apparently theirs not giving a moment’s worry). It didn’t happen because the next time they saw me I was minus that particular accessory. # As I left the room I could hear, in her anger, my aunt (who is mum’s older sister) lash out at what had happened and told mum in no uncertain terms that I should be in nappies if I peed indiscriminately, leaving puddles everywhere. Mum didn’t react badly (she never lost her temper) but quietly said that she already had plans to sort that particular problem out. She’d read that circumcision was healthier for a young man and that girls preferred a cut penis, whether any of this was true, that’s how it was sold to me. I wasn’t taken to hospital instead a Jewish medical friend of mum’s, who said he’d done hundreds of such procedures, volunteered his services. I hated the idea of hospital and any kind of operation, so, it’d be done in private and mum even swore that it would be “...but a minor inconvenience”. Oh, and yes, it wasn’t a painful procedure because “...babies had it done and they turned out okay”. Mum lied - There was a lot of blood, I was very sore and my poor little penis looked butchered. # With my penis cut and bandaged I found going to the toilet a harrowing experience. What was worse, at night, after keeping my bladder full because of the pain when I did pee, on several occasions I involuntarily wet the bed as I slept. Mum decided that until my penis healed, I should wear a nappy and argued that the soft fabric would be less irritating against my skin and I’d probably heal quicker. I wasn’t happy about this idea believing it was only because my aunt made such a song and dance about my peeing on the floor. However, my wounded penis was quite painful and I disliked waking up to a soaked bed so it seemed a temporary way round my soggy problem. Also, whether it was because of the nappy reference from her sister or not, mum had probably decided what would happen so really I had little choice. This time mum didn’t lie because the fabric was nice and soft against my skin; the padding keeping me snug so my injured thingy didn’t bounce about. Also, the antiseptic creams and various fragrant lotions that area was subjected to were very soothing. In fact, I was quite grateful for the cushion of relief it all offered. Because my penis was really sore, it was too painful to wear jeans or trousers, and although I didn’t feel comfortable about it, for those first few days I wondered around the house wearing very little below the waist apart from the ease of my padding. When I first thought about having to wear a nappy I assumed it was mum punishing me for my behaviour and to possibly placate her sister, as Aunt Jen had been quite caustic about what she thought of a ten year old still peeing on the floor. However, any seething resentment that I perhaps should have aimed at mum just didn’t happen because the nappy was a great help. Mum became very protective, perhaps, overly protective of me and went out of her way to keep me happy; my wellbeing of the upmost importance. Before the operation I would have shirked off any attempt from mum to coddle me. I was ten and growing up and didn’t need constant attention. However, after the messy business I felt wounded so quite pleased mum was lavishing all her attention on me. She soothed my soreness with oily creams and in truth I liked not fighting with her over everything and nothing. I don’t think I was that aware of it but things had changed as a result of my lost skin. Waking up in a soaked nappy was strangely a comfort because despite everything, my sore willy felt less sore lying in a damp fabric cradle. Whichever way mum had attached that night’s padding felt like it was doing its job because the experience was different. Together with a pair of plastic pants, come the morning my attention was centred on a piece of soggy material not a piece of my missing willy. She often said that despite everything I looked happy in a nappy. It was a catchphrase that kept on repeating in my head time after time and at the most inopportune moments. It was an ear worm that once started never seemed to stop and I’d find it gnawing away as I tried to get to sleep. However, no matter how annoying that was, I was always grateful come the morning when my night time awkward insulation had done its duty and saved me from a repeatedly soaked bed. # Despite the initial painkillers I was taking ‘it’ remained tender and swollen and became a bit of a problem when I returned to school as I certainly didn’t intend on wearing a nappy to class. Mum saw that I was struggling to keep my underpants dry so came up with some extra padding sewn into them for me to wear. Strangely, as I was under no pressure to pee because of being stood in front of a toilet, I could let it out in small, relatively painless spurts when and where I felt the need. Often just letting it trickle into the folds of the extra fabric where it was quickly swallowed up. So I wore wet pants regularly whilst I recuperated, and, despite my reluctance on wearing them, mum’s insistence on slick white vinyl pants were the key in preventing any visible leakage. Nevertheless, the problem continued at night, even after my newly circumcised penis had all but healed, because I was still waking up wringing wet... so to combat the nightly deluge the wearing of night time stuffing continued. # I was a little traumatised by the operation to say the least. I was taking an age to mentally recover and thought my recently pared-back boy part looked strange and inflamed and worried it would always be that way. With the constant reminder every time I looked at my red willy I felt responsible for its current state and, although it was the case I no longer left puddles in front of the toilet bowl when I did make use of the facilities, if only I’d taken more care I wouldn’t have been in this position. Meanwhile, I think mum seemed to connect the reason I was wetting to the pain and subsequent agony I’d been subjected to. I don’t know whether this was the case or not, but despite her ten year old boy needing nappies at night, she didn’t get angry about their prolonged use. In fact, she noticed that with the loss of my foreskin I also lost a lot of the insolence I had been beginning to accrue. The real reason - I felt damaged and wanted my mummy to look after me. I wondered why mum didn’t take me to hospital to have it checked out but I think she was disappointed/embarrassed/guilty about what the ‘doctor’ had done. I had nothing and no one to compare my situation to. I had no idea if this was how it went when a boy was circumcised and that I was just one of many. However, what I did know... her ‘friend’ disappeared from our radar completely. I don’t know if mum had words or what but I never saw him again. Good. # The comfort of wearing a soft thick nappy at night weirdly seemed to be the only relief I could count on. So, despite not wearing a nappy since I was three, the thought that I had to wear one to prevent any apparent complications, and soaked bed, seemed exasperating but inevitable. Although my logic wasn’t following any sensible path I became obsessed with keeping that area clean, covered and worried constantly that it just ‘didn’t look right’. Although I thought, and mum fostered that notion, I needed to wear a nappy to fight off any infections, what I really intended was to keep it hidden. I was ashamed of it always looking scarlet and deformed. It was ugly and I hated it and I’d brought it on myself because I peed all over the floor and in doing so had brought about the injury of a little girl. Guilt is a strange thing - how many other people might I have injured by my inconsiderate toilet habits? I needed that extra thick material to prevent anyone seeing it and also to avoid harming the rest of mankind. # At the start of all this I didn’t have much of a conversation about wearing nappies with mum. She just never let me out of them at night and often joked it was advisable to be better protected during the day if we went anywhere ‘special’. Although to begin with I wasn’t all that keen on going outside wearing a thicker nappy, mum made it seem that it was me who was making a big deal about it and no one else would even notice. She asked me if I’d been in the least bit bothered by wearing a nappy at night. As my foreskinless penis was healing I had to admit that it had been of benefit - so, no, it hadn’t been a problem. “And” she asked, “wearing one now... is that a problem?” She was quite intense and I found my days of lying under such scrutiny were becoming a thing of the past. I was wearing one at that moment, having just woken up after another soggy night, and in truth it had been soft and gentle with the plastic pants holding me in some degree of cosiness. “No, not really it’s just...” I shrugged. “Well then, what’s the problem? If there isn’t a problem, stop making difficulties when there aren’t any.” After all the jokiness mum seemed a bit annoyed that I was questioning her but I also detected she was a bit worried (although she never said anything to me about it) that it was taking so long to repair. However, she was correct about the padding; it was keeping me from any excess dribbles and made things nice and comfy down there. Perhaps weirdly I wasn’t unhappy about having to wear a nappy and it was at this point I psychologically began to associate these two words together - ‘Happy’ and ‘Nappy’. One morning I came down stairs to the kitchen, mum was just finishing pegging out the washing and my soaked nappy and plastic pants hung low between my thighs. It looked a lovely day and as I opened the door for mum because she was coming back carrying the laundry basket, a cool breeze took me by surprise and there in front of her I felt a sudden spurt into my already saturated nappy. The only thing was I couldn’t stop and mum watched as my nappy expand whilst it soaked up even more of my involuntary pee. “It’s a good job you’re wearing that,” she said pointing to my glistening plastic pants, “otherwise had you been wearing your school uniform yet... it would’ve been soaked.” I’d been rooted to the spot but incredibly embarrassed at peeing so publicly and it being witnessed by mum. I couldn’t think of an excuse or even what to say so I simply felt ashamed. Mum pointed upstairs. “Okay, take them off and I’ll get them in the next load... let’s get you ready for school.” Meanwhile, she’d bought a set of different coloured and loose-fitting shorts she thought wouldn’t put pressure around my injury like my school trousers and jeans had been doing. Since the operation I found such items very annoying to wear, tight and at times uncomfortably rubbing against my thicker underpants, so these baggy shorts came as something of a welcome relief. ##tbc##