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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 #

Mum Today had been annoying. Usually, I’m happy at work but today, well, it was all so niggly and bity... things not happening when it should or people not doing what they should when they should. It was that type of day. As manager of the team it is my responsibility to make it all work but I was at the mercy of others incompetence or lack of knowledge. Anyway, I got most of it sorted but it was all very frustrating and hectic. However, Friday night means a nice long weekend where I can relax, compose myself and spend a few hours totally absorbed in ME. Even though it was after 9pm when I eventually got home the moment I walked through the door of my flat I had it planned. Strip, bath and lovely long soak before doing what I was going to do. My new bedding had arrived a couple of days earlier but I’d been so busy I hadn’t had time to sort it out... so actually, that had to be my first job as that would lead nicely into the other bits of my planned weekend. A week or so earlier, in a moment of juvenile and giddy excitement, I’d noticed the Matalan store was selling fleecy duvet covers in their sale. I’d actually seen a review of them and one comment was “... it’s like sleeping with a big teddy bear, all soft and welcoming. 5*s” so I was sold. Anyway, I’d ordered a grey fitted bottom sheet and two matching pillowcases and a bright yellowy/mustardy coloured duvet cover with two matching pillowcases and when I’d fitted them to my bed... man it did indeed look welcoming. I ran my hand over the fleecy softness and whoever wrote the review was spot on... it instantly reminded me of the teddy bear I had as a child. Loads of memories came flooding back and that’s just what I intended. ***** I ran the bath and stripped out of my work clothes, hung up the suit but put everything else in the laundry basket for tomorrow’s big wash. I inspected myself in the full-length mirror seeing if at twenty-four I’d started to deteriorate physically. I mean the job isn’t anything that should wear my body out, it’s fairly sedentary but I was the youngest manager in the company so had a lot of responsibility and the need to keep proving that I was the right person for the job. When I was made manager there were quite a few doubts expressed by the Executive Directors about my ‘youth’. I needed to prove that I could cope, and not only cope, but excel at whatever they threw at me – thankfully, so far so good but that pressure was non-stop. I looked at myself in profile, not bad. I’m five foot nine, short black hair, reasonably good-looking (but who’s to say?). So far, not getting chubby but that was down to the fact that I only ate once a day and more or less lived on protein shakes and vitamin drinks. Skin was tight on my body and in general everywhere was firm without being too muscular. Before I took this job I played five-a-side footy a couple of times a week and squash at the weekends so I had a sporty side. Alas, work now occupied almost all of my time and, if I got a free weekend, I wanted to spend it winding down not getting exhausted. Even though I tried to deny it, I knew I’d got my priorities wrong. However, once on the corporate ladder, and at an early age, climbing down and finding other work that paid so well, would have been all but impossible. The hours were long but I was still proving myself to any doubters. So, to mix metaphors, the greasy pole was there for me to climb and I’d embarked on getting to the top. Anyway, I could hear the water still running so stopped this self-evaluation and made my way to the bathroom. On weekdays I get a morning shower but on Friday night (when possible) I liked to indulge myself in a long hot (very hot) soak with bubbles and assorted scents. It may have smelled like a whore’s boudoir but it helped me relax and dissolve away the week’s complications. ***** I breathlessly slid under the foam as my body tried to get used to the heat. I think even a lobster would have complained and not just about the bubbles. Then I got the giggles thinking how heartless it would be to cook a lobster in a scented bath, trying to get it to relax before dipping its lovely meat in liquefied butter - mmm my mouth watered at the prospect. Stupid head... but at least I wasn’t thinking of work but starting to have fun. I closed my eyes and let the heat permeate every inch of my body. The bubble bath made my skin silky and soft and after a slow but methodical sponge everywhere, I settled back down to let the soothing unguents do their work. I keep my hair short and have a strange dislike for facial hair of any kind. This isn’t a new thing; ever since I started growing hair ‘down there’ I always thought it looked untidy so why on earth would anyone want a face that looked like your pubes? At school I was one of the last to sprout a pubic display but when it kicked in, it seemed to take over. A couple of years ago, as a treat to myself, I had electrolysis and it has more or less left me permanently smooth, which as it turns out, is ideal. I raised my hips from the bath to watch the water part and the soft mound of dick and ball-sack rise through the suds. Not for the first time I thought what a lovely thing to have, the pleasure it can bring and the occasional demands it makes. I was looking forward to giving it something else it craved as soon as I dried myself off. For the moment though I intended to soak for as long as I could before the water became uncomfortably tepid. ***** Once out of the bath I dry myself slowly but thoroughly, getting into every crease and crevice, making sure there is no excess water anywhere. Then I get to the main event; the special soothing lotion that I spread gently but liberally around my groin. It has a warming note, as well as a special blend of sandalwood, highly refined botanical lipids, almond oil and vanilla. It’s a luxury I can afford and is composed especially for me. My groin feels baby soft and luxurious, without hair it doesn’t clump or pool it spreads evenly... even my arsehole benefits from a good mollified fingering. Once I let that soak in I sprinkle a little powder, a light talc because I just love that smell before I venture over to my dresser and take out the special, thick and colourful disposable that’s going to accompany me to bed tonight. Reverently I fluff the cute plastic backed material to give it chance of air to expand that little more. Cheeky cartoon animals are grinning at me and I’m grinning back, I simply cannot wait to have it snugly wrapped around me and taped into place. Now you may be wondering – Friday night, 24, good-looking and he’s taking a bath and putting on a nappy, what the hell is wrong with this guy? Well, let me explain. I don’t care. You do what you like and I’ll do what I like and trying to pick up someone in a noisy bar, drinking with people I wouldn’t want anywhere near me and being social... not my scene at all. I like my own company and more so, like the comfort and fantasy I can indulge in when I wear a nice bit of padding. As a kid mum always made sure that my padding was thick to avert any ‘preventable accidents’, which meant the bulge was substantial but, as that was how I was always wrapped when I wore a nappy, I just got on with it. Perhaps I should also tell you that I had potty issues until I was nearly eight years old. When I eventually managed to get to the toilet on time mum said that just to make sure, I still wore a nappy to bed every night until I was ten. Again, as it was something that she said I needed though I don’t remember wetting often during that time, I suppose it was necessary to have that safety net. Anyway, now I live on my own I was able to indulge in something I’d missed for a while when I lived at home. Mum and dad are both loving parents but once I’d gotten out of wearing protection I never went back. We all seemed happy that part of my childhood was behind me and I moved on happily into my teenage years. However, as I got older and started work I found myself craving the return to nappies and disposables. For a while this was something I tried to ignore. I couldn’t contemplate the reaction from my parents had I indulged myself so, when I eventually got a job and the raise that went with promotion, I found a little flat on the other side of town to my parents and began to slowly feed that need I’d been desperately trying to subdue. Of course, after that first night I opened the bag of disposables and put one on, that was it. I was hooked so, over time, I’ve made it into something special. Something I only indulge in at most, once a week but when I do... YEEESSSSS! ***** The bath had thankfully completely relaxed me and the dreadful day was now suitably in the past and I could spoil myself properly. The soothing oil had soaked in nicely and the sweet scented talc wafted in my bedroom’s air giving the most satisfying of atmospheres. Subdued lighting made it so I could relax but still see what I was doing as now the fluffed out disposable had gained some volume I inserted a couple of bamboo soaker pads to fill it out even more. At last I get to touch the pretty, colourful, childishly-emblazoned, yet erotically charged disposable my brain had been forming in my brain. It isn’t just the touch of course, but the entire sensual nature of the folds of fabric wrapped in a plastic coating and driving the sensuous nature of what I’m about to do. I wait a moment; savouring the luxurious physical way my body is anticipating that instant when expectancy is flooded by reality. I slowly slip myself onto the soft buffer of fabric and ease myself into position. I’ve done this many, many times but the ethereal nature, the building excitement, the absolute pleasure comes when I fasten the two sticky tapes tightly on to the plastic surface and we become one. That shiver, that mind-blowing phenomenal miracle that such a simple item my body and my super-euphoric brain has created immediately sends me into sexual meltdown. It’s no good trying to hold back because this is the start of a night given over to complete and utter pleasure. A pleasure, I contend, is matched by very little... well for me anyway. My body pumps the effect directly into the waiting bamboo; I’ll need the extra padding because my intention is to pump all night until I cannot pump any more. That first release is so damn satisfying and I can feel it trickle around my cock, greasing it up for the next spurt of orgasmic sustenance. I lay exhausted and slowly close my eyes imagining in my head what my next explosion will feature... except... ***** I wake up and it’s daylight. The sun is streaming in through my bedroom window and I’m laid on the top of my bed looking down at the large, but hardly used, bulky disposable I was so intent on demolishing with my... erm, um... what’s this? A cup of coffee, with a gentle spiral of steam coming off it, is on my bedside table. What the f*** # tbc #

A Strange Visit It was the start of the summer holidays and Grandma and Grandpa’s golden wedding anniversary, so the entire family, as well as a bunch of friends and neighbours, were congregating at their large house in the country. It’s quite old and gloomy but has six bedrooms for those who were staying over, which included me and my family, Uncle Ernest and his family, Aunty Pat and her husband, Gordon and Cleo who were friends of Grandpa’s and had flown in from Australia and Stephen Wilkes who’d driven up from the South coast and used to be an old neighbour of theirs. The house even had a name as you turned into the drive, Wood View (1854) and had been the dwelling of the area bishop in years gone by. Grandpa had bought it and was where he brought his new wife and where their children were born. Uncle Ernest was the eldest, then Aunty Pat and then my mother Diana. When she married my father, James, they didn’t have much money so when they found out I was on the way, it was agreed they should live in the family home. When I was born, we stayed with Grandma and Grandpa for a while so we’re all pretty close. In fact, we remained with them until about ten years ago when I was four and we moved about 100 miles to a new house in the city. Dad had got a huge promotion and became manager of the company he worked for. He’s now the CEO and in charge of everything. When we lived at Wood View it always seemed a cold rambling building but from an early age the nursery became my room and as I got older it was nice to have so much space where I could spread out my toys and have a place to play. Even now, when we visit and stay over, I have that room, though Grandpa got rid of the childish bed as it would be too small for me now and I have a much nicer bigger single bed. You need something like a thick duvet because even in summer the place radiates the chills. Not that it’s haunted or anything, despite all the creaks and groans, it’s just that type of draughty place but, it is in the countryside, and that’s wonderful to explore. Anyway, the house doesn’t seem much warmer despite the fact that when they had the builders in to construct a conservatory they added central heating to the entire place. Another improvement was that they had part of their large bedroom converted so there is now a bathroom in there. Up until then there was only one ‘family’ bathroom, which was long and large and felt like you were entering some vast, cold tunnel that had a bath and toilet at the end of it. That room only heated up when you took a bath but you never lingered for long if you used the toilet. Despite Gran’s best attempts, even the potted plant and shelves of fresh towels couldn’t brighten up the place. At night it was a scary and icy place to visit. # There were about eighty people who came to celebrate with us and both my grandparents are healthy and involved in the local community, so lots of locals as well as family turned up. By the time we got there the bedrooms had been allocated and ended up with all us boys in my old bedroom. Unfortunately for me, Brian, Uncle Ernest’s eldest son, had commandeered my bed for himself and there were a couple of inflatable mattresses and sleeping bags for me and my twelve year old cousin Reece who’s Aunty Pat’s son. Brian’s youngest brother, three year old Martin, was lucky as Grandpa had restored my little old bed which fitted him OK. There’s also Reece’s sister April (13) and I forgot to mention Brian’s sister, fourteen year old Fiona. My two female cousins get on really well and they had a room to themselves as they wouldn’t share with anybody. Whilst I get on OK with Reece I’m the complete opposite of Brian who I think is a bit of a bully. At sixteen he’s school captain of both the football and rugby team and derides me every time I join in any game because I’m hopeless. I just hate getting hurt, which I think is a sensible position to take. He thinks I’m a “swotty little twat” and I know this because he’s called me that ever since I passed the entrance exam to get into the exclusive school I now go to. The party was a huge success and I had a great time along with everyone else I think. When it came to bedtime we all had our room, well except for Gordon and Cleo who were going to be in the conservatory on the fold-out couch, whilst Steve Wilkes was going to be on the sofa in the living room. Of course my room was the busiest and Aunty Judy, Uncle Ernest’s wife, took Martin up first and got him settled about 9.30. Then around 10.30 Aunty Pat said it was time Reece made for bed and mum said I should go as well. I know I’m only a year older than him but I wanted to be treated as Brian was, he didn’t seem to be under any restrictions. I even saw him downing a bottle or two of beer, which I was forbidden to even try. Anyway, despite my protest not to leave, and I saw the look on Brian’s face as if to say ‘it’s time all kiddies were in bed’, mum was insistent so had no option if I didn’t want to cause a scene at the party. If I had I would have been in serious trouble so irritably flounced upstairs to join the others. When I got there I saw that Aunty Pat was putting Reece in a disposable and pulling plastic pants over them before he slipped into his PJs. I was a bit shocked but aunty explained that, as there was only one toilet for us all to use and it was a bit chilly late at night to make the journey, to save any embarrassment a nappy was judged a good idea. I saw the logic but just shrugged glad mum hadn’t insisted on the same for me - except, aunty ruffled out another one and looked my way. “I’m not wearing a nappy aunty, I’m too old.” I tried to explain. “I can get to the loo if I need to so...” I was whispering my argument because Martin was asleep in his little bed and we didn’t want to wake him. “Sorry Danny but your mum and dad think it’s for the best so... you will have to wear one.” I was furious but with Reece looking on I didn’t want to lose face though she could tell I was on the verge of a massive tantrum. She wasn’t going to put up with any unwillingness on my part and obviously anxious to get back to the party. “Look, I can get your father if you want but suspect he won’t be happy being dragged away for something that has already been decided.” I felt cornered because I know dad doesn’t like it when I act like a big kid, he thinks I’m sensible and know that things are done for my benefit. I was torn but Reece was in one so it was hard to refuse. Mind you, I had no idea what threat his mother had made before he agreed to wear one. “I’ll count to three and if you don’t let me put you in this straight away...” and she waved the thick disposable in my direction, “I’ll get your dad and let him do it. One, two...” “OK, OK.” I conceded despite the fact that I knew Brian would have a ball if he knew we were wearing nappies. “That’s better now, Reece’s all wrapped up so you’re not alone. Even Martin’s wearing one...” “Yes but he’s only three so I suppose...” “You’ll be grateful when you see you won’t have to negotiate finding the bathroom in the middle of the night. We don’t mind if you use it as that’s what it’s there for so don’t worry if you do.” Use the nappy... was she mad? It wasn’t like I could offer to do it myself because aunty had obviously been given a job and this was now cutting into her party time. She wanted it done and out of the way as quickly as possible. I piled my clothes on the chair and looked longingly across at my bed but knew if I occupied it and Brian came up, he’d punch me in the face. A shiver ran down my spine as I was being taped into the thick (though soft) padding and she’d even opened a pair of clear plastic pants like Reece was wearing for me to slip into. “There that’s better, all nice and safe now.” She watched as I shuffled up my PJs. “There, all done now... night-night boys... I’ll see you in the morning.” There was no denying the room was cool but not cold, however, once the central heating went off I knew it could get quite chilly. I was quite grateful to hug myself in the sleeping bag and the air mattresses were quite bouncy. I was still wide awake so Reece and I whispered to each other for a while. I asked him if his mum had put him in nappies before but he said it was a first. He’d objected like I had but she was taking no backchat so thought it best to go along with it. He confessed that the corridor leading down to the bathroom he always found scary when he visited so wasn’t against this novel idea. We both had to agree that we were pretty snug so getting up would have been a bit of a chore... so maybe, it wasn’t such a bad notion. I reminisced a bit about when I was little and used to live here and how much I loved having the nursery where I had all my toys and what a great place it was to play. I was thinking back but didn’t mention that mum had put a little potty in the corner for me to use when we stayed here. The reason for that was I wasn’t potty trained until we left and I was about to start school at five years old. There were a few of Marty’s toys scattered around but mainly Gran had made a place for him to play downstairs as at the moment this room was quite full. We talked about what was our favourite thing we ate at the party. How much we’d drunk, we both seemed to have downed a litre and half of Coca Cola, and how the girls had treated us as if we were just kids, just because they had worn their best dresses and were obviously pleased with the rest of the guests reaction to them. They got tons and tons of praise, whereas, we boys got a smile and that was about it. Meanwhile, we could hear the noise from the party with the laughter and music but it wasn’t long before we both joined Martin in the Land of Nod. # It was Martin who woke us up. He was calling for his brother, trying to wake him up by telling him he was wet and needed a change. It was strange because I’d just imagined that Brian would be as off hand with his little brother as he was with me, he wasn’t. “OK Marty, just give me a minute and I’ll get you all changed.” He yawned and swung his legs over the side of ‘my’ bed and I noticed he was just wearing a t-shirt and boxers. I felt cheated he wasn’t also consigned to what Reece and I had to wear but suppose, being sixteen, gives you special privileges. I have to say that he looked a great deal older than the rest of us and carried out his brother’s change with barely any comment other than encouragement. Martin hugged his brother when he was finally all cleaned up and wearing a fresh clean fabric nappy. Brian noticed that we were both awake now and looked over at the two of us. “OK, are you wet as well?” It was a question I didn’t want to hear from him because I knew he’d just take the piss. I was also annoyed that he seemed to know we’d been wearing disposables with plastic pants. “OK Reece you first, come here.” Reluctantly, my twelve year old cousin left the warmth of his sleeping bag and toddled over to Brian. “Are you wet?” Brian simply asked to which Reece nodded. “OK then, let’s get you out of that soggy mess... it is only soggy isn’t it?” The question was a little apprehensive. Again Reece nodded whilst Brian exhaled in relief. Brian seemed to know exactly what he was doing as he helped Reece off with his PJs and patted his plastic pants but it was noticeable that he’d soaked his disposable as it had expanded quite considerably. Without asking, just as he’d done with his little brother, he pulled at the tapes and the heavy wet fabric fell to the floor. He grabbed some wipes and cleaned him up, shook some talc all over him and then unfolded another disposable. “Erm, I don’t think...” Reece began nervously. Brian took no notice and slapped his hand away as he tried to prevent him threading the disposable between his legs. “Stop that,” he admonished and Reece was far too scared to put up any further resistance. He did a good job and had him turn full-circle so he could see that his handy work fitted correctly. He then did what aunty had done the night before and opened up the pair of plastic pants for him to step into. Once they were pulled up and patted into place he told him to go put the rest of his clothes on. “OK Danny, your turn.” He smiled. “No, I’m OK thanks, I can sort myself out I don’t need any help from you.” I was offhand. “Well, that may be so cousin but your parents and gran have said that I’m in charge of you boys whilst we’re here and that if you’ve wet, which is all very fine...” he added, as if to say it was expected, “you have to wear a disposable for the rest of the day.” “WHAT?” I exclaimed loudly. “Be quiet you idiot. The rest of the house had a very, erm, heavy night and are still sleeping so... hussssshhhh.” “I’m not wearing a nappy.” I complained. “OK, well you don’t have to but... are you wet?” He questioned and I knew I would have to answer him. I was still in my sleeping bag so no one knew I was as wet as Reece had been but just didn’t want to admit it to anyone. However, whilst both Martin and Reece looked on, Brian marched over, reached into my sleeping bag and pulled me out. My pyjama bottoms had slipped down to reveal my thick and expanded disposable held tightly under the glass-like structure of my stretched plastic pants. “Hmmm, I think we can tell you’re wet so...” he returned to his bed and pulled out another disposable from the pack (which aunty had left under the bed) and fluffed it out. He looked sternly at me. “You can walk over here and let me do my job... or... I can drag you over here put you over my knee and give you a thorough spanking.” “I, errr, um...” was all I could add because despite my pretending otherwise I found him quite intimidating. This was ridiculous. Here I was in my old nursery and just about to be returned to wearing a nappy, something I hadn’t done for nearly ten years. Well apart from last night. “They said you might be difficult but not to put up with any silliness so... what’s it going to be?” I felt another nervous spurt of pee soak into my disposable and knew I had no alternative if I didn’t want a public spanking. He was so much bigger and stronger and knew they’d be no chance if he decided to do as threatened. “C’mon Danny, stop being such a little drama queen, it’s only a nappy.” He nodded toward his little brother. “You don’t see Marty making such a fuss about it now do you?” By this time Reece had put all his clothes on whilst little Martin was playing with his teddy bear but still wearing only a fleecy top but no bottoms. His nappy and cute cartoony plastic pants were on view. I have to say that Martin (Marty) was a lovable little tyke and an absolute joy to be around. Last night he’d kept many of the adults amused with his childish antics and questions - the complete opposite of his big brother. Also, it had been fun playing with him and all the cool new toys he had scattered around the house and bedroom. “No but he’s still a baby and not potty trained.” Is what I wanted to say but thought better of it so timidly walked over where he immediately helped me out of my PJs. It didn’t seem to register that he was only two years older than me and therefore this was most inappropriate. So, although I was embarrassed enough to flush bright red, he just got on as if this was something he did regularly. He wasn’t nearly as rough as I imagined he’d be. In fact, he seemed resigned to his job and anxious to get it over with. “Look, if you think I’m happy with this you must be mad but... it’s what has been ordained,” he nodded in the direction of the other bedrooms. “So, let’s just get it done and have some breakfast.” He pulled down the plastic pants and as he’d done with Reece, ripped at the side tapes and let the sodden fabric fall to the floor with a squishy flop. The quick burst of cool air to my lower half made me shiver and goose pimples replaced the now pinkish flush. The moist wet wipes felt strange especially when it invaded my bum hole, which I suppose is what he did with Marty to make sure his was thoroughly clean. Once he was sure I (and it) was particularly clean he rubbed in some Bepanthen ointment. I noticed that Reece hadn’t had that done but by the time I thought to say anything he was already showering me in talc. Again, like my younger cousin, he pulled the white disposable between my legs and tugged everything together tightly before taping me in. Also like Reece he made me give a twirl to make sure he was satisfied with his work and then passed the plastic pants. The look he gave me when I hesitated made sure I quickly slipped them on. “There... all done, that wasn’t so bad was it? Must be like old times for you Danny... this being your old nursery and all.” He smiled and picked his little brother up and set off to the kitchen. “OK guys c’mon... I’m also in charge of getting you fed.” He watched as I negotiated my jeans up and over the bulkiness but managed it in the end. Reece was wearing a pair of green cargo shorts but Martin still had only his shiny plastic pants for cover. It seemed strange because we had to be quiet, as everyone else was still sleeping and there were various people in different areas of the house. Bottles and plates and some food were still on various surfaces but oddly the kitchen was relatively tidy. Brian warmed some milk for Martin and put bowls out for us two. Reece chose Coco Pops, which I guess gran had got in specially, whilst I choose Frosties as they’re my favourite and she always has them for when we call or stay over. We had orange juice, whilst Brian had toast and coffee but was surprisingly attentive to his brother’s needs. Martin seemed to enjoy drinking his warm milk from a sippy cup and tucking in to cut up pieces of jam on toast. “OK you guys, the idea is for me to take you for a walk in the woods for a bit of fresh air and exercise this morning. I think they really want you out of the way so there’s no noise and they can all sleep a bit longer. So, let me get Martin dressed... it looks a nice morning so you might not need a big coat... and we’ll be down in a minute.” He was taking us out wearing nappies and that worried me a bit but I don’t suppose anyone would notice. I didn’t think it was obvious under my jeans but I knew what I was wearing and there was a slight swish as I walked. Everything ‘down there’ felt tight and crushed I just hoped I’d be out of this ridiculous situation before too long. I thought all this as I finished my cereal and watched Reece slurp down his chocolate coloured milk and smile. It was obviously a part of eating Coco Pops that he loved. I was still a bit concerned about the padding although my cousin didn’t appear that bothered. I hadn’t had chance to speak to him about the fact we were both in nappies. “What do you think?” And I patted the soft padding under my jeans. “I was too scared to say anything... he’s quite frightening.” Reece offered but said no more on the subject. I think he was worried Brian might return and spank him for speaking out. I had to agree Brian was very frightening because he was so big and not like any other person I knew around his age. He certainly towered of us two and was nearly as tall as his dad. Although he was just a couple of years older than me, Brian looked and acted like a grown up. Reece and I had both complied with his demands without too much opposition so I suppose that’s why he’s the captain of sport at school... he gets things done. We grabbed our hoodies and waited at the back kitchen door for him and Marty. I surreptitiously rubbed my bum and could feel the padding underneath my jeans and wondered why the grown-ups would have decided that we should wear these during the day. I mean, it made slight sense last night but today, it made no sense at all. However, no one but Brian was around to ask and he’d already told us this was the way it was going to be. Still... I wondered. After the hectic party the night before the house was very quiet so any conversation was held in whispers. At that time in the morning the atmosphere both indoors and outdoors was still quite eerie. #tbc#

Nappies for one... no, two. About a month ago, my mate Paul told me that he has a fetish for wearing nappies. I didn’t believe him but, there in the pub, he undid the top of his jeans and gave me a glimpse of the ones he was wearing. It was strange because I’ve known Paul nearly all my life and I thought I knew everything about him yet this revelation both repulsed and interested me. I suppose it was the drink that made him confess but all I did was take the piss and mock him for it. Even though I could see my words were hurting, I just couldn’t seem to stop. In the end he said that it was twats like me and my attitude that made him want to wear them in the first place and stormed off. A couple of days later, and after I’d thought about it and realised what he wore was absolutely nothing to do with me, I was intrigued so went round to his place to apologise. He met me at the door wearing a pair of brightly coloured pull-ups like I’d seen kids wear in advertisements for Pampers on TV. Again I was shocked but still went in to do what I’d come to do… apologise. I have to say being small, lithe and softly spoken, Paul looks cute at the best of times, but now, in just his kiddie-style nappy, he looked even cuter. He told me, because I was his best mate, he’d felt able to tell me about the ‘little secret’ he’d kept for years and felt betrayed by my reaction. I apologised and told him that it was because I was in shock and didn’t understand or… he cut me dead. “Do you know what?” he said, “Wearing these make me feel safe. I don’t know why but they provide me with comfort when the world around me goes mad or work gets too much.” I let him continue without interrupting. “You and my nappies are… no, were… the only good things in my life that I could rely on. You’ve spoiled that.” There was more. I just hadn’t appreciated just what stress a small guy, constantly being picked on and ridiculed over something he had no control over (his size) or the punch-bag he’d become as an outlet for others anger and stresses. For some reason he’d found himself the butt of every joke, every derogatory expression, every snide comment and all because he never fought back. He was a nice lad being abused by a world that thought mockery was the height of sophisticated banter. It wasn’t. Now I felt really guilty so again I apologised and we talked some more. “I’m really sorry Paul, you’re right, I should know better and that’s why I’m here. I can’t say I’m not a little bit suspicious, or if I’m truthful a little intrigued, by it all, but I know I reacted badly. I am really sorry.” I think he saw that I meant it and a smile returned to his face. I hoped it was a sign I’d been forgiven. He obviously felt no shame or need to cover up, he was still only wearing a t-shirt and a pair of colourful pull-ups, but I suppose, in his own house, he didn’t need to pretend. The thing was, I was, as I said, intrigued and thought my mate looked the part. I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or a put-down but I meant, well, it seemed right. I think he noticed that my eyes were drawn to the silky bulge, and although I knew I was staring at his crotch, I couldn’t tear my eyes away. The juvenile image had made me smile and I have to admit I was thinking what fun it must be to be able to wear such a thing. I have no idea where that thought came from but I think that may be why he was smiling back at me, he knew I was engrossed in his special secret. “I’ve worn this kind of ‘protection’ since I was a kid,” he confided. “But now I wear it because I feel safe and secure... like I did when mum and dad were around.” He shrugged knowing that would never happen as his parents were no longer with us. “It helps me cope with everything that piles up mentally and physically.” He looked over at me sheepishly but I knew there was a hint of disappointment in that scrutiny. “I trusted you with my secret and you...” he started. “Yes, yes I know, I was a terrible friend but you’ve got to understand. You’ve got used to being you and like this for... I don’t know how long. You just exposed me to it and I didn’t know how to react. I was stunned and I’m sorry. I didn’t need to take the piss or make you feel as some kind of pervert but, well, sorry but I was surprised and...” He shrugged. “OK, I thought you of all people wouldn’t have had a problem with it. You, out of all the people I know were the one I thought I could rely on to understand. You know me better than just about anybody else...” “But I didn’t know about... that.” I said pointing to his colourful crotch. “However, what, I’ve been here about ten minutes and I think I’ve spent about nine of those minutes being enthralled by the cheeky design and how snug they look.... so, yer, I think I do understand.” “They are lovely to wear.” He said sweeping the palm of his hand of the slippery material. “I’m sure they are but... what are they made out of and where on earth can you buy such stuff?” “Well, they do have a nice plasticky texture, and work really well with a pair of vinyl pants but, if you know where to look you can find just about anything.” He smiled as if he was telling me something I should already be aware of. “There’s something for everyone if they care to look.” “Well, they do look snug so I suppose...” I shrugged whilst he reached into a bag at the side of his chair. Before I knew it I was agreeing to wear a nappy “Just to see for myself”, which I did because I didn’t want to lose Paul’s friendship and it seemed important to him. Although strange, it was like I was being inducted into an exclusive club as I pulled off my pants and slipped into my first disposable since I was around three years old. To say I was nervous, and a little guilty, was an understatement. There was also a feeling that this was all so ridiculous and silly and just plain stupid. That was until I’d worn it for a few minutes. Guess what. I see what he means. They are very comforting to wear, although I don’t think I’ll be showing mine off down the pub. I’ll keep that ‘little secret’ between Paul and me. =======

Beaumont Hall Simon was nine years old when he arrived at Beaumont Hall; it was to be his new place of learning. His father had been made the Ambassador to a new fledgling country in Africa, whilst his mother, the now world renowned scientist Doctor April Garvey, was needed on an endless circuit of lectures. Her book, The Noble Nobel Factor, had proved quite provocative in the field of academia. Simon’s loving father didn’t think it appropriate to drag his son away from England to his new posting, the country was still quite volatile so that had to be taken into account. Although he knew of several private schools in South Africa that had his approval and would have made him a little closer, he definitely wanted an education for his son that would reflect the family’s sensibilities. Meanwhile, his doting mother was unable to prevent the avalanche of both praise and condemnation her book provoked. She knew she had to defend all she claimed and having her son, her sweet adoring son, around would cause problems that could easily be solved. His doting parents enrolled him at the one school they were sure he’d feel safe and secure, the one school they knew he’d settle in without any trauma. Beaumont Hall had a select admittance policy and a fantastic reputation. Although an all-boys establishment, it was run on a benevolent, almost Quaker-style, concept of love, freedom, understanding and personal development. Instead of some aged Latin motto etched in crumbling stonework over the impressive facade was the simple missive – Be kind to one another. Beaumont Hall was similar, yet different, to any other boarding school in the UK. The impressive building had the first stone laid towards the end of Elizabeth the First’s reign, and was the centrepiece of the Beaumont-Saxby Estate. The large imposing structure had over the years been added to, repaired, redeveloped and, against all modern trends adapted to its new life as a place of education. Even the driveway up to the building, through an imposing gated entrance that circled along an avenue of high trees before the Hall was reached, had become a feature of historical, engineering and arboretum note. The estate itself was quite impressive, containing working farms of arable and animal, a couple of villages, stables and a thousand acre forest. The commanding and far reaching estate had in the past a number of important titleholders but, when it was acquired by the Rushforth Education Foundation (REF) in the mid-1990s, the entire estate was targeted at learning and the development of the country’s children. Although it might have seemed it was only educating the off-spring of the rich, this was by no means the case as bursaries were given out to many who could ill afford such exclusive tutorage. This was not the case for Simon Garvey, both of his parents had influence and been involved in this educational project to some degree for many years so his acceptance was a foregone conclusion. The only reason he wasn’t already a boarder at this prestigious place was that his parents were based in London and was educated locally. Now their circumstances had changed, and both parents would be out of the country a great deal of the time, proved an opportunity to send Simon to the place they thought he’d thrive best. # At 10am, the Saturday before the start of a new term, Simon, like the rest of the yearly intake, had been left, after many tears, sad farewells and gentle coercion in the capable care of the teachers and staff at the stately home. He was among five new students who were taking up availability in the Year 4 group, although the school also greeted the latest Year 3 intake. This group of eight year olds boys were just starting their climb up the educational ladder. Rooms were allocated, four students per room; with bed, desk, chair, dresser and cupboard for each individual. Common rooms, entertainment and study areas were dotted around the building although the large dining area was for all students, of all ages, to eat together. Older boys were encouraged to eat with younger pupils and a healthy mix of ages could be found in lively chat during meals. There was nothing formal or regimented for any of the meals the school offered - noise, conversation, friendship and geniality were encouraged. The entire concept of the school was based on a secular vision of the world. So people who sent their children to Beaumont Hall shared that ideal. Behind the ancient edifice was a large modern development of several buildings which contained a swimming pool, indoor sports courts and gym. There were also several playing fields and a race track. Aligned close to the ancient architecture were the newer dormitories that led by covered archways into the greatly refurbished and impressive structure. Here the large ex-servant’s quarters had been revamped and renovated as a dormitory for all first year students who were housed together. Also dotted around the place were staff quarters for those who lived in. The school operated on a boarding basis and pupils arrived at the age of eight and stayed until they were sixteen and had taken their exams. If further education was desired then Universities, colleges or apprenticeships were found for those who wanted such positions. There was also a satellite school on the coast where pupils from 16 to 18 were housed if specialist further education was desired. One of the school’s main principles was that students are responsible for those in the year below. A ‘big brother’, but not in the Orwell sense, was promoted as the way a school should operate. With - Be kind to one another - the simple doctrine, no boy needed to feel left out, bullied or at a disadvantage. It was a creed that worked and every student made it his duty to care for and comfort anyone found in any kind of distress. Beaumont Hall was ahead of its time as a place of excellence with a Utopian flare. # After the new class of eight year olds had been given their induction, shown the large dorm they would all share for the first year, beds allocated and timetables announced it was the turn of the new nine year olds. Being only five newbies the Housemaster was quick to inaugurate the boys to their new routine; two new boys in one room with two returning boys and three in another room sharing with one other. The philosophy of Beaumont Hall was simple - there would always be someone around to show any new boy the ropes or answer any queries. For those in their first year at Beaumont Hall there was always nurse to administer any medication and prepare them for bed. Come bedtime, Simon and the rest of the new arrivals were in for a shock. The policy of the school was all newcomers wore a nappy to sleep in for the first few weeks. This was not to humiliate them, nothing could be further from the truth; the school simply didn’t want them worrying about those first few intimidating nights away from home. “But, but, but I don’t need to wear a nappy, I’m, I’m not a baby I can go to the toilet...” Simon wasn’t alone in his stammered protest as nurse asked them to strip for that first night. # Over the years it had been accepted that the strange surroundings, new people, different procedures and the building itself often produced a daunting atmosphere for the newest members of the faculty. Together with not having familiar items or parents around to placate such fears, these new anxieties often transferred to many of the youngster’s becoming bedwetters. So as not to embarrass those who did succumb to such accidents it was thought best to treat all newcomers the same. With ‘everyone in it together’ there was support and solidarity from each other and the older, more established boys were eager to add their reassurance to the newcomers. No one was subjected to anything but encouragement and assistance. No one needed to feel put upon or at a disadvantage because no boy’s need (or not) of a nappy was made an obstacle to personal development. Despite the numerous protests from among the young voices, many boys found the comfort of a thick nappy the ideal way as coping with the change of being away from home and clung on to its reassuring presence for as long as possible. So, when that first bedtime came around the novices were initially sent to the school nurse and her staff to have a nappy affixed for the night. A pair of soft white vinyl pants covered the thick fabric and a pale blue school onesie was then fastened under their crotch to hold everything together. Everyone was dressed the same, so looked the same, so no one could complain or be at an advantage. A few of the new boys objected and complained that they were potty-trained and would have no problem. However, that argument was not entertained for the first month as all the boys were treated the same and absolutely no stigma attached to this process. The system proved correct as many new boys woke up to a soaked nappy but thankfully, a dry bed. There was no criticism for those who used their nappies just positive reinforcement from the nurses that they were good boys and should be proud of themselves. It was to every boy’s credit that after the first couple of days of perhaps resenting such action, they inevitably settled down and accepted this rule. It could be because the ambience in general was of calm and unifying commitment to each other. As the boys bedtime approached, games and TV watching was slowly reduced so that their brains were not still hectic when the lights went out. Soft, relaxing music was played to lull minds and promote sleep. A minimum of ten hours was the required amount for each pupil. Even the older boys found the routine benefited their concentration levels and few flouted their age-related bedtime rule. However, and this was what was perhaps unique about the school, nappies could be worn by anyone at any time. There were no hang-ups or detrimental accusations or comments for anyone who preferred to keep the comfort found by such an item. It was another of those progressive and possibly counter-intuitive factors that the school had discovered over the relatively brief time it had been in operation; there was a wonderful security in wearing a nappy that students of all ages appreciated. This was made abundantly clear because each and every toilet always had a pile of fresh, clean nappies, plastic pants, wipes, creams and powder available for any person who wanted them. A nappy pail was also there to ease disposal of any soiled article. The school had a uniform – navy blue shorts, pale blue shirt, school tie, pale blue socks and black shoes. All boys wore shorts until they became a teenager. At thirteen, on their birthday, they could, had they been supplied by their parents, decide to wear long trousers. It was one of those points when a young lad felt that he was growing up and needed the psychological boost such a piece of clothing might provide. However, even though long trousers were allowed, it was perhaps more interesting that even the eldest students often choose to continue their education wearing shorts. For some it was an act of bravado, for others it was clinging to their youthful spirit and for others it was simply a preference and quite practical - it was common to outgrow long pants before it was a pair of shorts. Whatever the reason, and whether a boy wore shorts or long trousers, no one thought any better or worse because of what you wore or the reasons behind it. It was not unusual to see a thick nappy and plastic protection visible above the waistband of even the eldest student. It also had to be admitted that nappies and shorts were worn by a large minority of students well after their need for them. It was also not uncommon to see groups of every age playing and socialising together. The only area where this was perhaps less obvious were in school sports where it wouldn’t have been physically appropriate to have a seven year-old battling with a sixteen year-old. However, where possible integration was the key word and the school had an excellent reputation for producing athletes and sportsmen up to semi and professional level. One of the reasons for this was the encouragement of all boys to find an outlet for their youthful exuberance. Sport, theatre and music were the main beneficiaries but so were engineering, carpentry, farming and cooking. It had an active and popular environmental group called The Beaumont Boys, a cross between scouting, orienteering and community involvement, where boys were taught how social interaction was a way forward and of benefit to any profession they ended going in to. It wasn’t unknown for groups of shorts-clad boys in their identifiable school colours, leading the clean-up campaign on the sea shore, river banks or public woodland. A village or organisation would smile in relief if they were told that a group of Beaumont Boys were on their way, it meant that things would get done quickly and efficiently. They were always a welcome addition to any activity. # Like the rest of the newcomers Simon thought this all very strange but, as his parents had said how wonderful the place was, he went along with it all. Getting ready for that first night and that first nappy had been quite an occasion. He wasn’t alone in his trepidation but roomy Alex, who’d been there a year, and who still preferred to wear protection, promised that if he just went along with it, he’d soon see the benefits. That first night was weird but as many of the boys had changed into their night time protection before lights out, socialising in their onesies was not uncommon. As all ages were allowed to wear the same... the common rooms were a place where worries, fear and shyness were quickly turned on their heads. There may have been some concern to begin with, in fact, the newbies huddled together for support, but once they saw that everyone was alike it was amazing how quickly they integrated. It helped that there was a cheery word of welcome for all. Some of the younger boys still had their security teddy bears or stuffed animals with them and there was no disgrace to be seen walking around carrying it. In fact, later in the first school term there was an evening ‘teddy-bears’ picnic and everyone was encouraged to bring along their bedtime friend to join in a night of fun, food and games. This wasn’t restricted to the first year... and it was amazing just how many of the boys had kept (and loved) their childhood companions. Many social events; treasure hunts, karaoke contests, sports days, camps out, night sky observations and off course all the usual holiday and festive events were covered. If these took place after the evening meal then all boys were got ready for bed before the communal fun and frolics began. This was so the nursing staff could also take part, which meant that fresh nappies often billowed out from tight onesies. As it was the same for everyone... it didn’t make the slightest difference. Hardly a week went by without something being organised to amuse and engage every student. Each event was always fun and entertaining. # Although nervous to begin with Simon soon settled into the rhythm of school. As it turned out, the implementation of nappy wearing for all newcomers had proved to be a wise directive because half the first graders woke up wet or soiled and three of the five second graders (of whom Simon was one) also woke up experiencing a very sodden nappy. Even those who managed to stay dry that first night were glad that they had some protection as they felt more secure in such strange surroundings. None of the boys were made to feel in anyway disadvantaged by their experience. Indeed, there was a great deal of support from older pupils also getting their soggy morning nappies changed by the experienced nursing staff. Of course, the nappies were aimed mainly for night time security and, once cleaned up, should they want to return to wearing padding no one thought any worse if that was the path taken. It was a regular sight, observing boys walking back to their rooms wearing thick padding and plastic or rubber pants. The school uniform was worn to breakfast after which the boys had fifteen minutes before lessons began. Simon opted for safety in these new, strange surroundings so wore a thick nappy and sparkling white shiny plastic pants under his shorts. He felt comforted and because everyone was so friendly, couldn’t wait to start the term in this innovative and exciting environment. Of course, as a nine year old, he didn’t actually see it in those terms. What he did feel was this place was special and although, on that first weekend he was unsure, the friendliness of the place made it easy to forget any of his preliminary worries. Thoughts of his busy parents fleetingly stayed with him and the regrets of not being with them also short-lived. He soon found his life was full of excitement and surprises, fun and learning, friendship and socialising, he hardly had a minute to himself that didn’t engage him in something of interest or entertainment. When he arrived at his first lesson he was happily surprised to discover he wasn’t the only boy who had chosen to wear protection. About half of the twenty boys he would be studying with had also gone for that option. As the day progressed, and he saw more and more boys out and about, moving from lesson to lesson, or playing out during the breaks he noticed that probably 90% of all the older boys wore shorts and of them, perhaps 50% wore undisguised padding. As he looked around at the noisy but happy group of students he was pleased his parents had decided on this place. He’d never been to such a friendly school before where even the teachers were sociable and joined in with the kid’s conversations and games. No matter how shy or reticent no child was left on their own, or left out of any proceedings. Everyone had a voice and encouraged to make it heard. It was a place where making friends was easy, in fact, it was one of the top commendations to all students. Any competition between various groups was kept to the sports field but then whether winners or losers, all were back together to celebrate. Education was fun, with time to explore and discuss rather than repeat and remember. Creative development was also high on the list of priorities, where even the youngest boys were encouraged to show their fledgling talent. The entire system of Beaumont Hall was to help create, guide and encourage each pupil’s innate personal power; to achieve what was best for them rather than fill the needs of an arbitrary curriculum. Self-motivation was also encouraged but not at the expense of anyone else... the bonding of all the boys to each other and under the care and direction of the school was unique and rarely repeated in any other educational establishment. Night time nappies and morning changes were social rather than embarrassing affairs where everyone was equal. The staff was encouraging, efficient but above all, friendly. No one got special treatment - no one got a different nappy (except if extra protection was called for) but there was a choice of covers if you had a preference or allergic to a certain material. Simon woke up each morning, and whether wet or not, was instantly excited about the day ahead... he knew it would be brilliant. That was the thing about Beaumont Hall the motto said everything - Be kind to one another - and he’d found a place where that was a code everyone lived by. Of course, not everyone wore a nappy. Other than the induction period the boys were allowed to wear what they found comfortable. However, it was true that over the years a preference for thick protection and the wearing of shorts had become a sort of badge of honour. Those who were lucky enough to be educated at Beaumont Hall wore their unique uniform with pride because of what the school and its academic and social awareness generated. Being a pupil at Beaumont Hall did set you apart from any other educational institution and the uniform was part of that. There was little vanity in a teenager wearing shorts when they had the option to wear long trousers. There was little vanity in wearing padding at any age past being a toddler. Yet the ethos of the school meant that despite these possible barriers, the pupils had decided what they thought was best for them and adopted the uniform you now see. No one was made to wear shorts except as part of the under thirteen’s dress uniform... to everyone else it was a choice. It was choice that made the school so important. It was choice that made the students that bit more independent. It was choice that equipped everyone with the knowledge that a boy can achieve anything... even if he does so whilst wearing a nappy. Many ex-pupils who achieved fame and fortune were thankful for what Beaumont Hall offered. It had helped in social interaction with others setting them apart from their peers from some of the more, expensive, privileged and self-aggrandised public schools. It was not unheard of that the love of protection and the security such padding offered was also not something that was jettisoned by many of the school’s students. As Simon would find out over his stay, the feeling such an item instilled was an elusive yet comforting factor throughout his school years. Nappies, though not for everyone and often frowned upon by some were, as far as students who had been educated at Beaumont Hall, an actual positive in their lives and one that they chose not to give up easily... if at all. #####

Re-Start The smell of warm stale urine filled my nostrils, another night and another wet bed... that was the twelfth in a row. Actually, it was the eleventh, I’d had a piss-free night two nights ago but obviously it hadn’t lasted. For too many mornings now I’d woken (and I use that term loosely) up to find that I’d become a bed wetter. When you’re almost twenty this can, and did, come as a bit of a shock. Recently my sleep patterns have been all over the place and I’d say I more often than not merely dozed my way through the night hours. I put it down to the fact I was simply not getting enough sleep. My mind had become the receptacle for rubbish. For instance, I remember on that first night I suddenly got it into my head – How would a three year-old stand for Parliament? Stupid question I know but the thought swamped my mind and I just couldn’t let it go. Even when I tried to distract my thoughts with music, TV or reading (no less disruptive to my sleep patterns), eventually it came back to that same question and my mind would be in turmoil trying to figure out an answer. That was the first morning I woke up to a wet bed and that was just the start of my long troubled nights. I couldn’t get to sleep no matter how hard I tried some kind of nonsense mind-worm (the thinking man’s earworm) was working away and stopping me from getting comfortable in my own bed. ‘How long is a million seconds?’ Yes, that little mind-worm was the next to invade my head as I tried desperately to find sleep. It wasn’t that I wanted to know. I mean, I don’t care and yet, the question wouldn’t let me lie. I tossed and turned, pushed blankets off and pulled them back up when my legs felt cold. I lay on my front, side, back and the other side but could find no position comfortable without that irrelevant question battling in my head. I picked up a bedside book and read hoping that diversion would be enough. After ten minutes and a chapter later I thought it safe to return and try to settle down. I think I managed to drop off before my dream merged with reality and I began to think what I’d do if I wet the bed. I had no idea where this thought came from but suddenly realised that stupid thought had become a reality and I was soaked. Oh shit two nights running... Oh, and by the way in the end I had to look it up. Answer: One million seconds is 11 days, 13 hours 46 minutes and 40 seconds # I knew about ear-worms, when a piece of music lodges in your brain and you simply can’t think of anything else but this was more annoying... but had the same result. The next night my demented pre-sleep thought was – I wonder how long it would take me to count up to a million. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5... No this is stupid, you can’t start... However, the idea has been planted and the brain is saying to give it a go. 1,2,3,4... (why was I trying to count quickly?) What was annoying about this is that because I hadn’t got much sleep the night before I’d gone to bed early. I thought I was tired but that bloody million count was plaguing me and I simply couldn’t shake it. Although, every time I looked at the clock, there had been a passage of time, I’d never quite fallen asleep, merely thought how ridiculous it would be to try and count to a million. It would be the stupidest of things to do to try and count – 1, 2, 3... The alarm was set as usual for seven o’clock so that blast of heavy rock woke me up with a start. So, although I must have fallen asleep at some point I didn’t feel I had slept at all. Then the surprise - not only was I sopping again but I was so tired I felt sleep had eluded me. Another morning with piss soaked into my bed, undies and sheets was a bloody awful way to start the day. Laundry facilities were not easily available as I was living in a bedsit and the nearest laundromat was a bus ride away but thankfully there was one near work. The idea of carrying pee-soaked stuff on the bus made sure I avoided doing so until I had no choice. By then my bedsit smelled a bit and even wrapped in a couple of plastic bin-bags there was no denying what I was carrying. I just had to bluff it out and pretend it wasn’t me. # Now I have to admit that I had slight (very slight) urinary problems before. I mean, I’d like to be able to say this was all new to me but in fact, when I was younger, I’d also occasionally needed a little padding. Not a great deal I must emphasise, however, leaks did happen but my thicker cotton underpants were able to keep embarrassing stains from public disapproval. Since I was little, a toddler in fact, and had grown out of having to wear a nappy, my little briefs still had a job to do. What I mean by that is... I could get to the toilet with no trouble; negotiate getting my willy free of my pants and pointing it in the right direction was OK. The problem I had was, no matter how much time I spent making sure every drop was where it should be, in the toilet, no matter how long I shook my tiddler to make sure no drops remained; as soon as I tucked it away there would be a little extra involuntary spurt, which took me by surprise. I wore slightly damp and stained underpants for years. An under-developed urinary tract had been the diagnosis and, as I got older, had been kept in reasonable check by medication. I stopped taking the medication a year or so ago and found that I didn’t need it because the leakage stopped and all was well... that is up until now. The problem is I have no idea why my brain seems to have changed from ‘no worries’ to worrying about every bloody thing, including how long it takes to count to a million. It makes no sense but my mind is full of this stuff nearly all the time, especially when I try to go to sleep. Here’s another one: How many balloons does it take to lift a human? This little query had my brain working on the principle that in the movie ‘UP’ it took loads of balloons to lift a house so... My head felt like it would explode trying to work out a problem I didn’t WANT to know the answer to. # I’d moved from my family home to this city to be near my girlfriend. She was going to be at university here and I didn’t like the idea of a long distance relationship so got a job with a well-known tyre repair shop not too far away from her campus. It’s a busy place and operates from 8.30am to 6pm six days a week and from 10am to 4pm on Sunday. It does more than just change tyres and so is incredibly demanding. There’s always a line of cars waiting from the moment we open and then it’s non-stop throughout the day... tyres, exhausts, wheel balancing, batteries, MOTs... you get the drift. You don’t get much time for a chat that’s for certain. Anyway, I moved about six months ago and actually really like the job, but a couple of months back the girlfriend called time on us. Without saying the actual words, it basically came down to the fact that she’d met someone in one of her lectures, they had so much more in common, and I was no longer needed... she could (and had) done better. The realisation that I was thick and no longer suitable boyfriend material must have hit me in a way I didn’t understand (naturally). So perhaps that’s why I think these thoughts - thinking them important and what University goers think about... I could be wrong. Anyway, I was here now and I didn’t think our paths would cross that often in a town this size so I thought I’d ‘just get on with it’ – a recommendation I always give myself when faced with a task. “Don’t think about it, just get on with it and get it done.” The thing is I don’t know how to stop the sudden night-time urination. I mean, I don’t even know I’m doing it until I wake up but, and this is the annoying part (as well as the smell and the moist undies) I don’t feel I sleep at all. It makes for incredibly long nights so it’s no wonder I’m always so damned tired. Anyway, the irony was, if indeed it was irony, the tyre firm didn’t put up with me being tired at work and fired me. # Without a job I had no money and was unable to stay where I was living. Jobs seemed few and far between and my boss refused to give me a gleaming reference so for the moment I was stuck. That was until mum said I should return home and she’d look after me. I told her I wasn’t a little kid but she said that didn’t matter what I needed right then and there was someone to care and a mummy (yes she used the word MUMMY, which I knew she was saying just to tease me but still felt a little weird) knew best how to care for her son. As it turned out, the landlord sent me packing after he’d had complaints about the smell of piss drifting into next door’s bedsit. I tried to convince him it was the plumbing but he called my bluff and said it was mine that needed sorting. So, I had little option but accept mum’s offer. Now, despite my best efforts at being a grown-up, I was twenty after all, I arrived home carrying all my belongings and a good proportion of which stunk of piss. Mum took one look (actually just a quick smell) and dumped my sheets and piss-stained clothes straight in the rubbish. The shake of her head as she tutted and looked me up and down made me feel like I did when a toddler and had accidentally wet myself. Oh hell, I think that stain on my pants might be fairly recent. “You young man,” she looked through the rest of my ill-packed cases, “are not equipped to deal with being on your own... and why is everything soaked for heaven’s sake I thought we were past all this?” She already knew that I’d been dumped by my girlfriend because that happened a few weeks ago and I’d told her but hadn’t explained why I’d been sacked. I really had a lot to tell mum but didn’t know how to go about it because it sounded so dumb and juvenile. I mean, not sleeping because you’re thinking of stupid problems... which leads to a wet bed... well, it’s just... childish. However, mum said she’d missed me whilst I’d been away and was happy to have me back. Even though I’d only been gone a few months my room had been changed. Despite my age, I’d left my bedroom like that of a teenager as I’d been too lazy (and too poor) to change the single bed, my football duvet cover or the posters on the wall. Now the walls were bare, my single bed was just a mattress and looked naked and empty, the furniture had been re-jigged a little and a lick of paint had made it seem quite clinical. At least mum hadn’t made it her sewing den as threatened. However, now I was back, and thanked mum profusely for letting me return, I promised that I’d find a job and sort myself out. She just hugged me and said “Welcome home sweetheart but first things first... if you’re staying then there will be some new rules”. ####

Poster Boy Baby Peter’s bedroom was a tribute to what the sweet guy was all about. Above his bed was a large poster of Bizzie TM, the Fairy Baby complete with large fluffy nappy. Around the walls were equally strident posters of adverts for nappies, plastic pants and other assorted paraphernalia from both ancient and modern campaigns for such products. Black and white Staydry plastic pants and Empire Waterproof Baby Pants adverts were lined up against colourful Racing Car Diapers and Pampers ads. Every available space said that this room was for a baby, a bed-wetter and a lover of nappies, Peter Noble was all of these. Peter had been a bed-wetter all his life. Over his twenty-five years his family searched for a solution to his problem but throughout his childhood, teenage years and now into his early twenties, both found nothing to stop the nightly (and often daily) soaked nappy. The thing was, Peter had become infatuated with the advertising and messaging that various companies had used over the years. That obsession turned into an emotional and physical turn-on and that led to totally accepting his need for protection. + Around the age of seven he was found to be autistic, which the doctors at the time said explained his continued bed-wetting. He had other internal social and mental problems that made getting on with people difficult and trusting anyone almost impossible. By the age of ten he’d more or less mentally locked himself away and it was only through his searching the net and finding all these advertisements, slogans and pictures that he began to come out of his shell. Something reverberating in his brain made them not only appealing but a sort of explanation... perhaps one only he understood. The images of babies and baby products sort of struck a chord with his own identification as a little boy who needed a nappy because if he didn’t wear one he’d wet everywhere. A nappy was safety and security so therefore his best friend... closely followed by his blankie, teddy and binkie. As he got older those iconic illustrations from features and commercials on the subject made him identify with all that they offered, so found them both calming and instructive. Now, as a twenty-something, although officially an adult he preferred to replicate those styles depicted in adverts. His nappies were thick, disposables colourful, plastic pants childish and fun, clothes juvenile though ultimately wonderfully comfortable. He loved the life he’d created and surprisingly, could function quite well with that look. To begin with his parents, and even a few doctors, had tried to dissuade him from clinging to that childlike approach. They soon found that denying him access brought out a sullen and very negative Peter. He would cry, throw tantrums and stop breathing, all of which was of no benefit to letting him be himself. It took a while but eventually those who were supposed to look after him realised their mistake and supported his own personality traits. As a result, he was happier and therefore his carers were also less stressed. + He’s now online and explains his autism through photographs and posts about his life. He encourages others who are like him and has become something of a poster boy to many who see themselves and their own autism as no longer a weakness or failing... simply because he doesn’t. He’s wants to remove any shame from autism spectrum disorder (ASD) and hopes that his many followers gain some hope if they are feeling down and pride in who and what they are. He’s an absolute beacon for those who have been placed on a spectrum (that can take in any number of conditions), but are able to see how he functions well by using age regression as a coping mechanism. He answers questions honestly and openly, which of course leaves him vulnerable but, what he does is important so puts that fact above any personal abuse or negativity. His bedroom may have the look of a child’s nursery, and maybe it smells of baby powder and urine but everyone can see it’s where he’s happiest... and after all... isn’t that the point. Our Poster Boy is a champion in nappies. (With thanks to all those who post photographs, blogs and information on autism and beyond)

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#

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...

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.

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.

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

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

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…” *****************************************************************************

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 Winceyette nightshirt Definition of Winceyette: Cloth made of cotton that has a raised surface, used especially for nightclothes. I’m fourteen and have to go and stay at grandma’s house for a while. My parents are going through a tumultuous divorce and the constant shouting is having an effect on my nerves. My grades have deteriorated badly at school. I hardly sleep; continually worrying that the screaming might escalate into something much more violent. I lie in bed shaking and only drop off in a very fitful manner dreading the morning when I know it will start all over again. This in turn has led to one or two night time accidents and I wake up to a wet bed, not really knowing when it could have happened as I’d hardly slept. The atmosphere in the house is terrible and I’m perpetually on guard not wishing anything I do adding to the general dysfunction of my family – so I hide my problem. # Grandma (from my mum’s side, my dad’s parents are both dead), thinks it disgraceful they should behave the way they do when I’m around and appear ignorant their actions have on me. She berated both of them and insisted that they “…got their act together or separate and not involve their highly impressionable child (me) in their ‘theatrics’”. As soon as school finished for the Spring Break she insisted that I get away from the relentless bickering and spend some time with her. Now I love grandma, but spending any time at all with an old lady isn’t my idea of fun but her argument is sound; I need to get away and she is offering a sanctuary that isn’t available from anyone else. ## It was an hour and a half drive to Grandma’s house and they even argued over whose responsibility it was to take me there. Tempers were rising and I simply couldn’t take any more so, I quickly shoved a few clothes in a bag, emptied my piggy bank and took the four hour, three bus changes ride to arrive completely shattered. This was partly due to the fact she lived at the edge of a village in a rather sweet one-bedroom cottage but which is a mile or so walk from the bus stop. Of course I was expected but she also expected that someone would have brought me. She was furious, she also thinks I need protecting from strangers (not sure what she thinks will happen on a bus); she forgets that I’m fourteen and can look after myself. So, she was once again angry with my self-obsessed parents and called them to let them know her disapproval, and of course that I’d arrived safely. I could hear her lay into my mother about how terrible it was to be subjected to hearing a constant stream of invective and anger even if it wasn’t directed at me. Grandma thought I was far too sensitive to have to put up with such antagonism but also listened to mum bleating on with ‘her side of the story’. Grandma’s final words were. “…no thanks to you two self-absorbed, unthinking bastards.” Yep, that’s what she called them down the phone “BASTARDS”. I was both shocked and amused that she should think in such a way about her daughter and son-in-law. Once her duty to inform them was out of the way then all her energy turned to me and the huge cuddle that followed was very welcome. I didn’t expect it but I burst into tears, perhaps she was correct, I was too sensitive. Whether through relief or what I’m not sure, but granny’s sweetly perfumed embrace meant the world to me. I left a huge wet tear stain on her pale yellow woollen cardigan but she didn’t seem concerned, her only thoughts were that I was safe, away from all the aggravation and determined that I should have an untroubled stay. In recognition of my visit she’d been baking and the homemade pies and tarts that appeared to cover every surface of the small but highly functional kitchen bode well. One thing for certain, I wasn’t going to starve whilst at granny’s house. # When I was younger I’d stayed with grandma quite a few times and I’d always shared her bed, which was OK but now I was more grown up I thought I’d be kipping on the couch. However, granny has a routine, and one she’s had as long as I can remember and that was - guests take a bath before bed. It was only about 8pm but I was well tuckered out and she noticed my eyes start to close. The meal she’d cooked, the lovely coal fire and the lack of any screaming certainly had me relaxing for the first time in many months. She smiled and suggested that, as she’d snuck off to run a bath whilst I dozed, I should take full advantage of the bubbles she’d added. I loved the fact that granny, as old as she was, still wanted to take care of me, something both mum and dad had been neglecting for some time. I went to the bathroom and stripped down piling my sweaty clothes on the dresser and slipped gingerly into the hot steamy suds. The smell of lavender filled the space and the bath itself was slippery from the amount of foam she’d added to the water, the entire effect was one of tranquil bliss so I closed my eyes and just soaked in its warm embrace. I fell asleep. # I woke up to granny peering down at me and smiling. “Gosh, you really did need to get away didn’t you?” I smiled back my agreement. “Well I think you’d better get out otherwise you’ll turn into a wrinkled prune.” She held out a fluffy blue towel and encouraged me to get out of the bath. “It’s ok gran I can see to myself.” I said nervous about being fourteen and being dried by my granny. “I’m sure you can but…” and there was a twinkle in her eye, “why should you when I’m here to look after you.” The towel did look very inviting and I nervously raised myself up but although the water had lost a great deal of its heat it was still very slippery and my grip on the side of the bath slipped as my feet slid along the bath floor and I made a huge splash that soaked granny. I was embarrassed but she was laughing and although dripping herself, still held up the towel encouraging me to make more of an effort. My nervousness about the hairs that I’d developed quite recently left me; after all she wouldn’t be seeing anything she hadn’t seen before. I was still a little ashamed at splashing her but thought I couldn’t delay the inevitable any longer. As she encircled me in the towel it brought back happy memories of when, as a child, she’d do this to me after a bath and the thorough rubbing would be followed, if tradition was being upheld, by a nice mug of milky cocoa before bed. Once she was sure I was dry she led me to her bedroom and I noticed some items piled on top of the blankets. I still assumed that somehow, or somewhere, in that small house there would be another bed, or sofa, that I would be sleeping on but apparently I was wrong. # I looked, somewhat bewildered, at the stuff granny had prepared. In my haste to get to her place I’d not packed any pyjamas and the few items I had in my backpack were just a couple of shirts, t-shirts and undies, I wasn’t well equipped at all. “I’m sorry about this sweetheart,” Granny looked serious and apologetic, “but you mother mentioned you’ve been having night time accidents at home.” This information came as a bit of a shock, I didn’t know that mum knew… she’d never said anything. However, coming home from school I suppose the fact that there was washing still in the machine and perhaps my room had a tell-tale odour, she’d managed to put the pieces together. Maybe she wasn’t as self-absorbed as I’d thought. I was uncomfortable that granny now knew and also ashamed. I felt humiliated and tried to hide my suddenly tearful gaze. “Don’t worry sweetheart, with what you’ve been through I can’t say I’m surprised.” She put her arm around my shoulder and gave me a tender hug. “However, we will be sharing a bed so I need to know that you are both comfortable and safe.” I tried to be grown up and said that I’d brought a t-shirt and underwear for bed but she just gently shook her head. “No.” She pointed to a bundle of items that were there ready for me. Although I’d noticed them I hadn’t paid that much attention as to what exactly was in the pile but suddenly realised that the white cloth item on top was in fact a thick terry nappy. “But granny, I’m too old for that…” “Sweetheart, you’re never too old to take precautions.” “But, but, er, I, er, mmm…” # My argument was slipping away as easily as the comforting towel she gently eased from my shoulders leaving me naked on the bed. She unfolded the huge terry square and refolded it into the shape of a nappy and slid it under my bare bottom. She sprinkled powder and reminded me that as a kid I used to enjoy that part the best. I was mesmerised with what was happening. I couldn’t lash out at granny but I certainly didn’t want to wear a nappy. However, I remembered that I had left my own bed at home in a soaked state so perhaps this thick protection might not be such a bad idea. Anyhow, I just couldn’t see myself arguing with granny and by the time I’d got my thoughts in order I was powdered and pinned in and she was shuffling a large pair of white plastic pants up my legs. She patted them into place and I just knew I’d never get my boxers over them as I looked around for them and my t-shirt. Granny was way ahead of me as she unfolded what looked like a pair of fleecy-style brown plaid pyjamas. She pulled what I thought was the top over my head and gently slid it down over my body. It kept going so she got me to stand up as it came down well below my knees. “Granny, er, I can’t wear this, it’s, it’s, er…” “Don’t be silly, it’s a nightshirt, a lovely Winceyette nightshirt.” She smoothed it down and over my bulging nappy. “This should keep you nice and snug while you’re here.” She patted my padded bottom and suggested we go down stairs for cocoa. I was reluctant to go anywhere, especially with the thickness surrounding my crotch but I figured that granny was probably wise enough to know when ‘protection’ was needed and it would certainly save me some embarrassment should I wet myself in the night, especially as we’d be sharing her bed. I felt strange. In fact, the whole process had seemed totally, how can I put it, er, out of body? It felt like it was happening to somebody else, well, perhaps it was a younger version of me but it certainly wasn’t me now. However, the fabric did feel nice against my skin. The cotton was soft and yet felt unlike anything I’d ever worn before. If I was to compare it to anything I would say it had the texture and smoothness of a fluffy kitten. There was an immediate sense of comfort as I waddled down stairs and settled myself in front of the fire whilst granny went to the kitchen to get our hot drinks organised. # The cottage was detached, had a fairly large garden, which gran loved to potter around in, but was quite small; a kitchen and living room on the ground floor and a bedroom and bathroom upstairs. A few years ago she’d had a small conservatory built onto the back, which was fitted out with wicker furniture; the place really caught the sun when it shined. It was a lovely place to relax in summer. Her living room was just as you’d expect for a country cottage; old but comfortable, well-stuffed chintzy style furniture, wooden dresser and display cabinets. There were photos of the family displayed around the room; me as a seven year-old, mum, dad and me when I was a baby and several shots of mum’s sister Jane and her family. Aunty Jane and Uncle Tom I think were happily married and, whereas I’m an only child, I have four cousins; Thomas is the eldest and the same age as me, Julie is twelve, Toby is eleven and they have a new baby, Benjamin. There were photographs of them all amongst the ones of us, as well as a lovely image of Grandpa when he was younger and in uniform. Three walls had flowery green and brown wallpaper and one wall was painted a dark brown but the overall effect was one of cosiness. The brown wall held a fabulous painting of a sunrise over the village that a local artist had done many years earlier. I loved the cottage; it was homely and always made me feel welcome. The fire crackled in the grate and a small ancient TV sitting in the corner fit nicely with the surroundings but I wondered how gran could put up with such a small screen. When she returned baring a couple of steaming mugs of cocoa and some biscuits I asked her, but she replied that she didn’t, as it hadn’t worked for over two years and not missed it one bit. I sipped my drink and felt the sweet taste and warming glow in my tummy filter throughout my entire body. I had a fleeting thought that this stay was going to be a long one if there was no TV but I had brought my IPad so it should be OK. # Granny was telling me all about the last visit from Aunty Jane’s family and that their eldest son Thomas had stayed with her when aunty was in hospital having little Benjamin. He also had a slight wetting problem and that’s how come she was prepared for my ‘needs’. She smiled as she said how quickly you can get things organised as a result of a wet bed. I swallowed hard hoping that my shame was not that obvious. Again I was embarrassed that she’d brought the subject up but I understood she was just trying to let me know I wasn’t alone and that it wasn’t a huge problem so I shouldn’t worry. That was perhaps easier said than done. However, the cocoa was very soothing and sitting in front of her roaring fire, I soon forgot all my problems and dozed resting my head against grandma’s shoulder. # Time didn’t seem to matter as she guided me upstairs to her comfy bedroom and pulled back the covers for me to get in. The weight and bulkiness between my legs had given me a crinkly little gait but there was no doubt about it, the entire outfit left me feeling both comfortable and, strangely, loved. The nightshirt hung on me with no bunching and the material next to my skin was soothing, just like my old teddy bear. I ran my hand over it all and for some reason it made me smile, it was if it was giving me back a pleasant memory. I wriggled contentedly and was asleep before granny came to bed. For the first time in many months I slept soundly throughout the night. # I woke up and stretched and for a moment the unfamiliar surroundings left me confused. Thankfully, I recognised where I was and turned to see if granny was still sleeping. I’d dropped off before she came to bed and I slept so heavily I didn’t experience her near me at any time during the night. However, I could see the vacant dent and slightly askew sheet and blankets that proved where she’d been. I yawned and stretched further and could vaguely hear her down in the kitchen and if I wasn’t mistaken, she was cooking breakfast. The smell of frying bacon had wafted up the stairs and I was surprisingly hungry. I pulled back the blankets and lifted my legs to get up when I saw that the nightshirt had bundled up past my hips and left my glossy protection on view. I’d forgotten all about that but now its presence was evident I suddenly realised that I was WET. # I was filled with panic as I brushed my hand over the sheets I’d only moments before been fast asleep on. Thank God they were dry. I examined the nightshirt and that was also dry so it was only the nappy that was wet – I was both thankful and appalled. How could I have wet in my granny’s bed and with her in it? I heard her coming up the stairs and quickly climbed back under the bedclothes hoping that I wouldn’t have to admit to anything but granny being granny, she gently set a cup of tea on the bedside table and assumed I was awake. “Morning sweetheart, sleep well.” “Mmmm,” I commented under a mock yawn. “Well I’m making breakfast and it will be ready in about five minutes, meanwhile here’s a nice cuppa to rouse you…” She then added off the cuff as if it was the most normal thing to say. “… don’t worry about your wet nappy now; we can get you cleaned up after breakfast.” She wasn’t asking, she was telling me as if she knew or at least expected it. My face went beet-red as I hid behind a quick slurp of tea. “Would you like fried eggs or scrambled?” She said in the doorway as an afterthought. “Erm, er, scrambled please.” “OK sweetheart, don’t be too long I don’t want it to get cold.” I was sitting up in bed, hugging my tea and thinking what a baby I was wetting myself for no reason. I couldn’t blame my parents arguing as I’d had the best night’s sleep for ages and yet here I was sitting in a soaked nappy. After a few more sips I decided to get up. I pulled the ruffled up nightshirt back to where it should be, covering my damp shame, and even more gingerly waddled down to the kitchen. # I arrived just as granny piled the eggs on the plate with several rashers of bacon, beans and mushrooms. I took my seat and was very aware of the squishiness in my nappy; thankfully there was only a slight crinkle to announce my arrival. For a woman her age granny was incredibly nimble and I could tell that not only had she made breakfast, I could hear the washing machine going, probably the second load as I could see out the window there were already some items hanging out on the line. She asked if I had any plans for the day but in truth, I hadn’t thought about doing anything. I’d stayed in the village on many occasions so had seen all it had to offer. However, there were innumerable walks and pretty sites to visit if the weather stayed nice. # Once I’d finished breakfast granny suggested that I slip out of my damp nappy so she could get it washed and out on the line whilst the sun shone. So I toddled back upstairs to change. I wasn’t expecting her to follow me and became quite embarrassed that she planned to watch me strip but she actually had a confession. “Sorry sweetheart but the stuff in your backpack was all creased and to be honest, smelled a bit funny so I’ve put all your things in the wash. Everything should be dry by tonight and I can iron them and make you more presentable. “What about the clothes I arrived in?” She shrugged. “Sorrrrryy. They were pretty smelly after your long journey. They are all in a long wash at the moment.” “Oh. I’m not sure what I can wear then. Do you have any suggestions?” “Well, if you’re not going anywhere, you can just wear your nightshirt…” She suddenly had a thought. “Have a ‘pyjama day’ I think it’s called.” “Well I suppose I’ll have to.” I didn’t fancy wearing any of granny’s clothes. I laughed at the very idea, what was I thinking? “But let’s get you out of that wet nappy first and into something a bit drier.” # For some reason I thought she must have kept some of my underwear back from the wash for just this occasion but once I was out of the plastic pants and soaked nappy nothing else was forthcoming. Well, I thought, I could just potter around in my nightshirt, although I have to say, the soft and fluffy material was constantly brushing against sensitive parts of my body sending ripples of pleasure to places I’d rather granny not know about. She brought in some wet wipes and more powder and draped over her arm was another pre-folded nappy. “I think we need to clean you up first and I also insist that you wear something next to your… er…” She was pointing in my groin. “But granny,” I was already whining like a two year-old, “I can’t wear a nappy around the house.” “Why not, there’s only the two of us here and I’m not keen on you wondering around not decent.” I know I could have argued that it was her fault that I was in this position but I hadn’t been brought up to quarrel with the elderly and certainly not my grandmother. I think if I had, and it had got back to my parents that I was squabbling with her, then they may well have both got together to give me a sound spanking before they went back to their own quarrel. No I simply had to suck it up and do what she suggested. # I’m fourteen; the nappy-wearing came as a bit of a shock; the fact that she intended me to wear it about the house, as well as at night (when I could see her point), made me feel very uncomfortable. I know she was trying to make me feel loved and untroubled but the idea was nagging at me that this was a step too far. However, granny is such a human dynamo, that she simply set too and removed the saturated object, wiped and powdered my groin and fastened me in the dry one and slipped another pair of white rubber pants up my legs. This time something happened. The nightshirt never left my body during the entire operation. In fact, she’d just pushed it up over my belly and set to work whilst I still enjoyed the fleecy softness against my chest. It rubbed against my nipples and again I felt that shiver of ‘appreciation’ run through my body. Some of the fabric was tickling my neck and chin, which set me off giggling like a baby and I was surprised to feel an emotion I hadn’t felt for quite some time. Utter devotion. Granny certainly made me feel like I was the centre of her world and that everything she did, or was doing, was solely for my benefit… and it felt wonderful. This strange piece of clothing was helping me appreciate so much more. Not only was it offering warmth and comfort but, together with the oddly reassuring nappy, I experienced an inner calm that spread around my body leaving each nerve ending with a special uplifting glow. I stood up and granny kissed me and said that I should be OK for the rest of the day. # I was vibrating with pleasure as the nightshirt gently scuffed the back of my calves, tickling and caressing me at the same time; the nappy no longer making me worry but offered reassurance. I’d never felt more at ease as I settled myself in the tiny conservatory to enjoy the morning sun and catch up with email on my IPad. Ooops, I’d forgotten that granny didn’t have Wi-Fi or broadband so, apart from listening to my music files, the odd game and catching up writing up some of my homework, the wonderful machine was useless. Thankfully, granny knew that the pub and the Tea Room in the village both had Wi-Fi, so, I could catch up by treating myself to a cuppa at some point. However, that wasn’t going to be any time soon as I only had my nightshirt and I wasn’t about to parade around the village dressed like that. I was at a loss as to what I could do to occupy my fourteen year-old brain now the electronic part of my plan had collapsed. The TV was useless but granny spent most of the day with the radio on in the background and seemed more than happy with that as company. She’d already done all the baking so I couldn’t do anything like that. My clothes were gently wafting in the breeze but the sun was un-seasonally warm so perhaps I would just sun myself in the back garden. Granny thought that was a great idea because she had to go off to an old folk’s home later as she was a visitor and didn’t want to let down those less able than herself. Typical of the woman, she was there to help others and I half-heartedly felt I should offer to join her. She thanked me for volunteering but thought it better if I stayed home and relaxed. She was of the opinion that I needed a calming influence and the old folk’s home, she said with a smile, was anything but that. # She laid a blanket out on the grass and told me to help myself to anything in the fridge or food in the pantry and that she’d only be gone for about three hours. I heard a horn blast and granny saying her lift had arrived, after she kissed the top of my head, she was out the door and on her way. Even though it was relatively early, just after 10am, the sun was very warm and as I grabbed a book to read I spread myself out and tried to concentrate on one of the ‘Historical Romance’ novels gran liked so much. It didn’t keep my attention for long and I was getting pretty hot in my nightshirt. Hesitantly I slowly removed it, and giggled as the tickly material slipped over my skin. I was sitting on the blanket wearing just my protection and the bright white of my pants glared for a moment in the sun. I hazily thought that perhaps I’d get an all over tan before summer and that might be nice. I folded the nightshirt and placed it under my head and then spread myself luxuriantly in the sun enjoying its caressing rays. # I woke up to find granny quietly chatting with someone else seemingly also enjoying the early sun. Then I realised that it must be much later than I thought as she’d said she’d be away for around three hours. As I became a little more conscious I realised that she was talking with her neighbour Mrs Davies, they were sat at a small table sipping tea. “Ahh, would you like a cool drink dear?” She asked noticing my eyes flickering against the sun. “Mmmm, yes please granny…” “Good afternoon.” Mrs Davies smiled and nodded in my direction. “Oh, er, yes, good afternoon Mrs Davies, er, how are you?” Her smile broadened even more before a wistful look came into her eyes. “Well I wish I could lie out in the sun like you dear, but alas, those days have gone.” “Me and you both.” Granny nodded sagely. It was only then I become conscious of the fact that I was lying there dressed in so little. Suddenly overcome with embarrassment I made to rise and get the drink myself but gran was already on her way to the kitchen. Laying there and looking at Mrs Davies I took in the fact that I’d slept for quite a number of hours wearing just my nappy. I was very warm and I was sweating heavily and the damn thing appeared to have soaked up every bit of perspiration. It took me until granny arrived back with my drink to realise that I had in fact wet myself again. How the hell had that happened? I wasn’t sure what to do by way of hiding myself but I suppose it was way too late for that as granny brought my drink. “Here you are dear,” she handed the cooling glass to me, “but I don’t think you should lie around in such a wet nappy for too long, I don’t want you getting a rash.” How on Earth did she know? Mrs Davies took another sip of tea. “My Sally was forever wetting her nappy,” she shrugged, “I don’t know what it is about young ‘uns but sometimes they seem to forget how to use the bathroom properly.” “Yes I remember,” Granny was joining in, “Thomas was the same… kept forgetting to go potty” I coughed, trying to hide my embarrassment and divert this course of conversation, so asked how long I’d been asleep. “Well, it’s two thirty now, so…” She left it for me to work it out. Again I flushed red even though the sun had given me enough of a tan to hide my shame, but granny beckoned me to follow her into the house. First I went to check on my clothes hanging in the sun and they were almost dry but granny said she wanted to iron them all before I should wear them. Again, I’m not going to argue with her so I just shrugged, grabbed my nightshirt and followed her inside. My shiny waddling bottom no doubt letting Mrs Davies know exactly how wet I was. # Mr Davies continued sipping her tea as granny and I disappeared back into the house. “Sorry gran, I don’t know how it’s happened, I feel such an idiot.” I was looking down at the bloated mass between my legs and thankful that the plastic pants had kept everything in place. “Don’t worry dear, accidents happen and, after what you’ve had to contend with over the last few months, I’m not surprised.” She was being very supportive. “But why I should have piss… er, wet myself…” I was confused and embarrassed though it appeared not to be worrying gran. “Look sweetheart, you’ve had plenty of things to worry about so now you are here… all I can suggest is that you let them all go and let granny look after you.” She looked both serious and understanding and I desperately wanted to forget about my home life. She patted my shoulder sympathetically. “Look let’s get you changed and, might I suggest, you need some after-sun, you’ve already got a bit of a tan.” I was glowing so once I’d wriggled out of my plastic pants and dropped my nappy you could see a nice little tan line. Within seconds granny had a soothing cream which, despite my mild protest, she was intent on spreading into me. I’d never felt as relaxed as granny’s fingers gently smeared the oily lotion into my shimmering skin. I closed my eyes and let my thoughts drift as he fingers soothed. Once she was satisfied that I wouldn’t burn or peel from my sunbathing, she slipped another nappy under me and pinned me in. She did it all so fast I didn’t realise or have time to object, besides, I was getting used to granny looking after me. As she once again pulled the nightshirt over my head I felt the comforting soft, fleecy material tickle as it enveloped my newly tanned body. The thrill as it slipped across my skin was electric and welcoming; I never wanted this incredible sensation to stop. The fact that I was once again wearing a nappy under it made me walk slightly differently, but when we joined Mrs Davies back in the garden, any inhibitions I might have had had disappeared. # The warm afternoon with me floating around in my nappy and nightshirt made me think I was on a tropical island or maybe some hippy commune somewhere (I’d heard about them but never experienced either of these places). Whatever granny’s secret was, it was most definitely working because my cares had drifted away and I loved the easy attitude and lack of worry she had given me. Mrs Davies asked me about school and friends, ambitions and general topics, never once delving into family matters, well not my family anyway. We all sat chatting for some time and I was amazed at how often the conversation crept round to wet nappies and the problems both these adults had with getting their children and grand-children toilet-trained. Thankfully, such talk no longer embarrassed me and I zoned out for most of it although I did realise, or at least thought I realised, they were saying what they did to make me feel better about my little ‘accident’. It was strange, the way they talked it was as if they almost expected kids to have accidents and it was all normal and taken in their stride. Once Mrs Davies had gone back to her own place granny started on our evening meal, which included one of her fabulous meat and potato pies with thick gravy, a personal favourite. She knew of my liking for anything pastry based so there was a fruit pie and custard to finish, I was in seventh heaven. No doubt when I eventually did return home I’d weigh a good number of pounds more… and I wasn’t bothered, granny just kept the fantastic meals coming. # That night after my bath granny once again had a nappy ready for me to sleep in. I could hardly object seeing as how I’d wet myself both night and day but I hoped this would be the last time. She’d ironed all my clothes and they were waiting on the dresser all neatly folded and ready for the morning when I had plans to go down to the Tea Rooms and use their Wi-Fi. This time she unfurled a plain red winceyette nightshirt over my head, which if it was possible felt even more wonderful. There was just something about the way the fibres tickled and caressed my skin that gave it an unbelievable quality, one that made me immediately at peace with the world. I felt quite floppy, whether it was the hot bubble bath or the nightshirt or a combination of both I’m not sure but I felt like a little kid again. I was giddy and childish and if granny had blown on my tummy I’m sure I would have been giggling like a toddler, and yet it didn’t feel disconcerting. When we returned to the living room I was in two minds whether to listen to my IPad with my headphones but decided that would be incredibly rude. Granny turned on the radio and it played some really old songs from her era, which at first I didn’t like but gradually they grew on me. At one point there was one I actually remember from when I was quite small myself. It was a kiddie sing-a-long type of tune and before I knew it, both granny and I were singing along like we were competing at a karaoke competition… or more likely a baby’s birthday party. # That night granny and I both retired together. She smelled wonderful and it didn’t take long after a kiss on the cheek I fell into a wonderful deep sleep. I woke up and once again granny had disappeared and there was a cuppa on the bedside table. I could see it was steaming so had only recently been placed there. Granny was no doubt busying herself with whatever it was she found to do, whilst I just sat up in bed and enjoyed my morning brew. It took a couple of minutes to realise I’d wet myself and I sighed in frustration hoping against hope that this wasn’t going to be a regular occurrence. I toddled to the bathroom took off my nightshirt and slid the offending soaked items to the floor. Grabbing a flannel I cleaned myself up and, like granny had done before, slicked on some lotion before completing the operation with a sprinkling of talc. I returned to the bedroom and of course all my clothes lay on the dresser all washed and neatly ironed. This is the type of service mum hadn’t provided for quite some time and I was grateful that granny had gone to so much trouble, even my underwear had been pressed. I quickly got dressed and wondered down to the kitchen. # I sat down and for some reason it was very noticeable that I didn’t have the padding that I’d become used to. My underwear seemed very sparse and unsubstantial and I wriggled trying to get comfortable but the chair felt very hard under my bum. Over cereal gran asked me if I had any plans as I appeared dressed for a trip out. “I thought I’d wonder down to the Tea Room and catch up on my emails and stuff.” “That sounds like a plan dear.” She encouraged, “But don’t forget you’ll have to buy something whilst you are there, I don’t think they’ll let you use their facilities for nothing. Do you need any money?” Once again gran was all concern and helpfulness and I suddenly felt guilty about leaving her alone, which was silly because she was one of the most independent women I’d ever met. “It’s the Carter’s who own it, Deidre and Malcolm, if you need anything tell them I’m your grandmother and I’ll…” “It’s OK granny, I’m sure I can manage… anything.” I smiled although I noticed a strange note of irritation creeping into my voice. “I’m fourteen for Christsake; I can manage to buy a cup of tea… I don’t need mollycoddling.” The thought ran through my head. “Er, I’m sure I can cope… thanks granny. I have my own money so should be OK.” “OK sweetheart.” Whether she’d detected my brief testiness I wasn’t sure as she just carried on with the washing up. However, I was shocked as to why I’d suddenly become irritable with the very person who was doing all she could to free me from my worries. Guiltily I asked if there was anything I could do to help before I set off and she requested I peg out the washing, whilst she cleaned upstairs. It was the very least I could do so emptied the machine into a basket and sauntered out into the fresh morning air. Actually, it was already quite warm with a very gentle breeze, a perfect day for drying. I hadn’t given it much thought but as I pegged each item out I realised that they were mostly my terry nappies, they looked huge hanging in the sunshine. My plastic pants were there, my brown nightshirt, a couple of towels and tea towels, a yellow sheet and that was about it. I stood back and looked along the line and watched as the breeze slowly flapped my nappies. For some reason I began to feel a bit ashamed. Not about having worn them but at not wearing them now. My thin underwear beneath my jeans failing to offer the fullness and protection my nappies had. What a strange thought to have suddenly come into my head. I shivered in confusion and wondered why I should even think such a thing. I shook my head in disbelief but thought it best to start on my way to the Tea Room; after all it was over a mile to walk. # It didn’t seem as far as when I’d arrived in the village but there again I hadn’t travelled for over four hours or been incredibly tired. As I strode along the country road I passed several gardens and everyone seemed to think it was a wonderful day to hang out their washing. In almost every garden there were several billowing terry squares and colourful plastic pants fluttering in the breeze. I wondered if the village had suddenly increased its population by an explosion in the birth rate. However, it seemed only a few minutes before I was ensconced at a table in the Tea Room with my IPad open and a fizzy can of Coke at my side. Time just shot by as I replied to my emails, downloaded some more music and caught up on a couple of my favourite TV programmes. During that time I’d also downed a couple of fruit juices and a pot of tea complete with a piece of fudge cake. Yum. It appeared that Deidre Carter knew who I was, well at least that I was staying at my grans house, as she asked me to take a message back with me. She was very friendly and chatty (the place wasn’t that busy) but again I found myself getting irritated that I wasn’t being left alone. However, she didn’t charge me for the use of her Wi-Fi and I even got that first Coke for free so I couldn’t complain. # With all that liquid inside me it would have been sensible to go to the toilet there but seeing the time, I’d spent almost five hours engrossed with my gadget, I guiltily wanted to get back as soon as possible. Deidre gave me an envelope to give to gran and, smiling sweetly said the strangest thing. “Nice seeing you again, I remember you as a baby… happy days… it’s good to have you back.” As I left the shop I wondered when we’d met but couldn’t recollect having ever seen her before. Alas, as I walked back along the road my bladder was pleading with me for release and I knew I’d not make it all the way without an accident. I saw some trees down a slight embankment and thought they would shield me from the road while I did what I had to do. Unfortunately, as I stepped onto the grassy verge, I wasn’t really looking where I was going and my foot got caught up in a low lying bramble. I stumbled over that and found myself careering down the slope. My newly washed jumper was suddenly covered in soil and grass stains as I plummeted the short distance to the bottom ripping my jeans in the process. However, that wasn’t the end of it as a small, muddy brook pooled there and I slid head first right into it. As I lay there semi-stunned my bladder gave way and I soaked myself. The warm pee was quickly doused by the cold muddy water seeping into everything. Even my IPad was awash in the canvas satchel I carried it in. I was angry but had no one to blame but my own stupidity. I only hoped my electronic gadget wasn’t damaged. I sat in the murky brook trying to turn it on and get it to work but it was useless. The mucky water had not only killed my IPad but soaked my clean jeans, splattered my t-shirt and jumper and I could only guess at the soiled state my underwear was in. As I trudged the half mile or so back to granny’s place I was furious with the world and all my worries and anger at my parents returned with a vengeance as inexplicably I began to cry in exasperation. # “Oh dear, what’s happened?” Granny greeted me at the door as I stumbled in covered head to toe in muck and filth. “I fell in the brook.” I was a mess and through my tears the words came out as a pathetic childish whine rather than the voice of a fourteen year-old. “Oh my poor darling,” she was so sympathetic, “let’s get you changed and into something cleaner and drier.” I pulled the sodden and filthy envelope from my pocket. “Sorry gran, Mrs Carter asked me to give you this but, er, it might be illegible.” “Not to worry dear, it’s probably just a special order for some pastries… I make them for the Tea Rooms. Mrs Davies makes the cakes - we both have our secret recipes that are in demand. It’s quite a little industry.” She beamed. I think it was yet another demonstration of how self-sufficient granny was and not in any way some sad old lady shuffling around in her final days. She helped me out of all my clothes in the kitchen and left them by the washing machine; it seemed that the job of doing my washing was going to be a never ending process. She wrapped a towel around and led me up to the bathroom and, because she didn’t have a shower, again filled the bath. The confident, if agitated young person who’d walked into the village had returned nothing more than a mucky little tyke who couldn’t keep themselves clean. As the hot water flowed I stood worrying about this peculiar anger that had, thankfully only fitfully, suddenly come over me after I’d been so happy and relaxed. Now I was standing naked and wrapped in a towel I felt more like a stupid kid than my real age. My body shook like I was a naughty child who was about to be punished and I sensed my bottom lip quiver as if I was about to burst into tears. However, once gran had checked it wasn’t too hot I slipped under the warm water and let myself soak. This time there were no suds but granny cheekily grabbed something off the shelf and dropped it in next to me, it was a plastic yellow duck. “Have fun while I sort out your clothes.” My initial thought was ‘how childish’ but soon I was pushing it around making quacking noises completely absorbed in my own little world. The clear water began to get slightly discoloured as the mud was washed away but not before I noticed a slightly pale yellow stream of pee get caught up in the bath’s undercurrent and slowly dissipate. It took a few seconds to realise it was me who was responsible because I’d had no forecast it was about to happen. However, the duck was providing me with enough entertainment so I didn’t let the shame distract me from my watery fun. # Granny came back and, after shampooing the dirt out of my hair, dried me with a huge fluffy towel. I was led back into the bedroom where another pile of clothes lay waiting. “I’m sure you don’t want to sweetheart but…” She pointed to the nappy already arranged for my bottom. “I think it will be safer in the long run dear.” She must have noticed that I’d peed my pants on the way home and was taking further precautions. Perhaps she somehow knew I’d peed in the bath. I couldn’t blame her; she quite rightly didn’t want some pee-happy person ruining her nice furniture. Bizarrely, I wasn’t as bothered about it as much as I thought I should be. In fact, as she oiled, powdered and pinned me into its terry thickness that feeling of annoyance I’d had brooding all day completely disappeared. She fished a new pair of thick pink plastic pants from under the pile and wriggled them up my legs and into place. They were such a colourful contrast to the white ones she’d previously had me wearing something clicked and I had a smile on my face - I didn’t know why. Granny smoothed them over my nappy; the subtle rustle announcing I was now well protected, which made her beam with satisfaction. “Well sweetheart, these are definitely the right pants for you.” She stroked the front and back arranging for the white terry pillow between my legs to be completely encased by the thick bright slippery cover. # I looked down at the glowing shiny bulk and wriggled with pleasure, even though I’d never worn pink before, it did look nice. As granny patted my well cushioned bottom I produced carefree murmurs of childish delight, which were echoed by her. Finishing off she pulled a fleecy pink nightshirt over my head that had blue cartoon rabbits gambolling all over it. I was giggling with glee as the material delighted different parts of my skin. It was incredibly childish but the soft cotton fabric once again enveloped my body making me instantly feel as if I was being nuzzled by a hundred fluffy bunnies; their warm silken coats producing an exquisite, feel-good sensation. No matter how infantile it may have appeared, I never wanted to leave this garment’s furry embrace. “Oh sweetheart,” granny was smiling, “you look so… so… so cute.” I didn’t care. Dressed in my nappy, the new, sturdier plastic pants and the wonderfully infantile nightshirt I was no longer worried about anything. Granny was snuggling with me on the bed and saying I was her sweet little baby who looked very sleepy and perhaps should take a nap. I did feel tired but didn’t want to sleep it was still too sunshiny outside. However, as granny soothed me by stroking my hair and patting my well-padded bottom I slowly felt my body drifting into peaceful slumber. When my eyes fluttered shut I could hear granny whispering to herself. “There, there little darling, time to let go and enjoy a life with no worries.” She continued to stroke my hair as I slipped further and further into a calming bliss. “I think we’ve found the right nightshirt to suit your sweet, sensitive temperament - tomorrow, we’ll find you some new playmates.” An intense tingling glow radiated around my body. I yawned and stretched and surprisingly gurgled as the warm sensation settled in my reassuring nappy. As granny pulled the blankets over me the emotion of complete contentment engulfed my mind. “Night-night sweetheart… granny will take good care of her sweet little baby.” ************************************************** The Winceyette nightshirt - part 2 “Wake up sweetheart, time to get up; we’ve got a full day ahead.” Granny was gently stirring me from such a deep, deep sleep. Drowsily I twisted and stretched, I was so comfortable I didn’t really want to move. Eventually my eyes began to focus and I could see granny beaming down at me. “Well,” she said as her fingers traced the outline of one of the characters on my nightshirt, her smile broadened, “I know another sweet little bunny that needed their sleep.” A yawn escaped as if in agreement. Slowly she drew back the covers and I lay there slightly disorientated because I couldn’t work out what time it was. I mean, I’d fallen asleep in the afternoon and it didn’t feel that much later but, well, the light in the room made it, ermmm… Seeing my confusion granny leapt in with an explanation. “Sweetheart, you’ve slept right through. Its morning now and breakfast is ready when you are.” She drew back the curtains and let in more of the fresh morning light. I could see the cloudless blue sky outside with the obvious promise of another fine day. How on earth had I slept for so long? I must have needed it but hadn’t felt particularly tired when… I began to wonder if in fact I had been very tired and just hadn’t realised. Perhaps it was the long walk into the village? Maybe, everything from my home life was just catching up with me? Sleep was coming particularly easy after all those months of my parent’s constant bickering, when even dozing for a short time had been a problem. There was little doubt that since I’d been at granny’s I’d felt incredibly stress-free. Even the silly, though incredibly comforting, nightshirt had added to the cosy feeling and helped keep me calm. I may be fourteen but thoroughly loved my new PJs. At home, my jammies hadn’t meant a great deal, I wore them if I remembered but often just slept in my underwear but now. Well. It was like cuddling up to your favourite teddy bear, all warm and fuzzy and something you could totally rely on… except, more so. I ran my hand down over the nightshirt. I’d forgotten just how juvenile it was but it didn’t matter, the pinkness and blue rabbits made me smile. Kiddie style or not, it all seemed very appropriate for such a splendid morning - lively and adorable. And, that’s how granny made me feel anyway. As the material slipped under my fingers once again I got the delightful sensation I was actually stroking a little rabbit, but, stranger still, that petted little bunny was me. The soft fleecy coat, the warm glow, the totally tranquil feeling… it was all so wonderful. # I remembered, even as I’d slept, stroking myself and squirming in pleasure, despite my bulky protection, nothing stopped that marvellous thrill coursing through my body. I even recalled waking slightly to feel a warm flush in my nappy but again it felt pleasurable so fell back to sleep knowing I need not worry. As I’d slept and drifted on a cloud of utter contentment I experienced another hand slowly rubbing the fabric, which now I assume must have been gran though at the time it was all just a disjointed dream. “There, there Sweet-pea… you just relax, sleep… just take it easy,” said a voice so soothing, so encouraging. Now, as I thought about it, what were just phrases in my head before, was definitely granny, probably coming to bed and wishing me a goodnight. The gentle caress, the reassuring hug, the soft kiss and the tender arm that encircled my waist left me with a feeling of total love. Typical granny. # All these thoughts and nocturnal memories flooded my mind as granny cheerfully helped me up from the bed. Once standing I became aware of the heavily soaked nappy clinging between my legs. I’m sure if it hadn’t been for the particularly thick and tight pink plastic pants it would have slid down my thighs landing in a sodden pile at my feet. However, gran said that we’d sort it all out after breakfast so I cautiously (and squishily) made my way to the kitchen wondering just how much pee a nappy could actually hold… it felt like several gallons. The thing was, fourteen or not, I now totally accepted that I had to wear a nappy. It didn’t feel babyish, it didn’t feel odd, it simply felt like that’s the way it should be. Filling the thing, either day or night, was not a problem, granny seemed to expect it. What should perhaps have filled me with horror, a soaked and drooping nappy, was normal and I was encouraged to give it no thought at all. Granny’s total and unconditional love meant that any problem I had was no problem at all to her. In fact, she’d gone out of her way to make me feel like I did when I first used to come and visit her as a toddler. There was nothing too much trouble for her little ‘Sweet-pea’ (Sweet-pee?) and I appreciated that she’d gone to so much trouble to remind me of the fantastic times we had together before my parents had become emotional high-maintenance. # Breakfast was my favourite sugary cereal and a glass of milk, both of which I downed very quickly. I hadn’t realised just how hungry I was and a second bowl, followed by a large glass of apple juice, went down with equal speed. As I sat eating and drinking my protection oozed a bit between my legs and it wasn’t very nice. I was glad that the plastic pants gran put me in the day before were sturdy enough to prevent leaks so at least I wasn’t dripping all over the cottage. I’d noticed my ‘accidents’ were getting a little worse because each morning I’d woken up very damp, the day before I’d peed my pants and I’d even had a surreptitious dribble in the bath. Yep I was definitely ‘tinkling’ (a granny term from when I was tot) more. As a consequence, granny had been correct in making me wear some protection because my bladder seemed to have a mind of its own and I had to admit I felt safer when I did. I’m not sure if it was security, defence or just plain preference but I liked the bolstering quality of them now and more than happy to enjoy the security it offered. However, there was certainly something special about being back with granny. It was like stepping back in time. I suppose wearing a nappy was all part of the reinforcement of when things were good and, in her own sweet way, she was reminding me of those happier, more sentimental times. Granny saw me wriggling in my chair and humming to myself. At first I wasn’t aware I was but, although the fullness and dampness of it wasn’t necessarily pleasing, my wriggling wasn’t because of irritation but somehow it amused me. There was an unmistakeable rustling from the plastic and a sort of ‘squish’ from the saturated cloth. As I ate I was unintentionally entertaining myself through the little noises my protection was creating. “I think I’d better get my favourite bunny out of its wet nappy before there’s a chance of any rash, we wouldn’t want that now would we? I giggled but shook my head like a well-behaved toddler as she guided me back upstairs to change. # Standing in the bathroom she pulled the night shirt over my head, the soft winceyette sending a delicious tingle all over my body. The plastic pants were tight and, as she eased them down, I could see the imprint of the elastic waistband and leg cuffs leaving a red mark. No wonder they didn’t leak. Then the sodden disposable slipped effortlessly to the floor where granny had me step out of it and into the bath. She ran the warm water and then instead of having a bath, I stood whilst she soaped and sponged me down like you would a toddler. Once all that was done she led me back into the bedroom where a large disposable and enormous thick shiny blue rubber pants were waiting. I wasn’t expecting to be put back into protection, it was morning after all, but I didn’t feel able (or want) to complain. It felt like granny knew best so it was best to go along with her judgement. In fact, I really liked the way gran was looking after me and it all just seemed effortless and practical. She always takes pride in smearing in the preventative nappy rash cream, making sure that any vulnerable area is well coated. She has fun sprinkling on the baby powder (I’m giggling more and more each time she does this) and fixing my disposable (with an extra layer of padding) correctly, which means I’m always grateful for her attention to detail. Pulling up the rubber pants I could feel there was a bit more ‘body’ to them than the plastic ones I’d been wearing. They were denser, shinier and looked fairly impenetrable in comparison but I guess she’d looked at the nappy I’d just taken off, realised how saturated it was so decided I needed more help than usual. She appeared happy with the result, whilst I chuckled (I don’t know why but I’d been in that joyously juvenile frame of mind since I got up) as she checked and smoothed everything down, looking at the final glossy effect with a nod of approval. Another nightshirt was pulled over my head. The cotton was as soft as the previous one except the material was blue with little brown squirrels running all over it. It made no difference, as soon as it engulfed me and tickled the back of my legs I felt so happy and cosy I thought I’d never want to take it off again, which was a strange thing to enter my head. However, many similar thoughts and questions had done exactly the same but had disappeared with the ease with which they arrived. Uncontrollable chuckles just erupted as I stood waiting for whatever was to happen next. The nightshirt had an effect I couldn’t explain except I absolutely loved wearing it. It tickled, it comforted, it was so unlike anything else I’d ever worn. Granny was all reassuring smiles and I felt happy that she was happy. I was dressed for night but the day had only just started. # “We’re going to a party... a pyjama party.” Granny announced when she saw me examining the baby pattern on my daytime clothing. “Oh.” Was about all I could muster at that point though in truth, once her announcement had sunk in, I was suddenly quite thrilled by the idea of a party. Indeed, had I been a little kid I might have found myself jumping up and down with excitement. Unintentionally, I was actually jumping up and down. The clothing now made perfect sense and the ultra-thick protection hardly registered because of the anticipation of going to such an event. Any reluctance that I may have had regarding what I was wearing and being seen by others had completely disappeared. Granny noticed by immature enthusiasm. “From now on sweetheart, it’s going to be fun, fun, fun.” She stroked my hair, smoothed down the nightshirt, which sent even more ripples of pleasure through my body and ended up patting my padded bottom. “Well sweetie, I think you’re just about ready so… shall we go?” She slipped a huge colourful bag over her shoulder and headed for the door. There was no doubt about it, I was beaming from ear to ear at the prospect of the party and straining like a puppy on a lead desperate to be let off. Unfortunately, that excitement, together with the milk and apple juice from breakfast had an effect and I found myself, quite uncontrollably, filling my pristine and lovingly applied nappy. However, I just wanted to get off and join the festivities as soon as possible so I didn’t say anything to granny, hoping that she couldn’t tell. The warmth spread around my groin and bottom… I smiled what I hoped was an eager smile to hide my guilt. Granny didn’t tell me whose party it was she just held out her hand, which I took with barely a second thought, and we toddled down the back lanes to our destination. For the briefest of seconds I had a touch of Déjà vu. I’d walked down this lane, holding granny’s hand before, which over the years was not an impossible thing to happen except, I was dressed exactly the same but still only a toddler. It was weird but the ‘vision’ soon passed and everything felt right again. # Thankfully granny doesn’t walk too fast so the journey wasn’t an awkward waddle trying to keep up with a soaked and bloated nappy between my legs. The blue rubber pants were very tight so kept everything quite well contained but there was a feeling in that particular area that I might be pretty well waterlogged. Then I remembered granny had fitted a thick soaker pad so that was probably what was giving me that ‘bloated’ feeling under my nightshirt. As I shuffled along holding her hand I was smiling to myself for a couple of reasons. One was that I was off to a party; the other was that again she’d known I’d need extra protection and that’s just what she’d given me. Granny was very special indeed. For a second time I noticed that nearly every back garden we passed the washing hanging out was very similar; nappies, colourful plastic pants, lovely designed nightshirts and various towels. It seemed that granny wasn’t the only one who needed to keep up with a messy kid. No sooner had I noted this phenomenon than I disregarded it as anything in particular because I could hear the noise of a party in the distance. Needless to say my waddle speeded up a bit and I was almost dragging gran along behind me. However, she kept a grip on my hand so I couldn’t just rush off by myself. # Eventually we arrived at a building that looked like it was once a small village school. In fact it did have Thurswell Green Infants carved into the stone above the door but there was a newer painted sign that announced Thurswell Green Crèche. This colourful banner had happy cartoon children and baby animals all over it so I suppose it now doubled for a slightly different need in the village. Granny guided me through the doors, by-passing a couple of bright little empty classrooms and out into the back. This was a surprise. The large enclosed area must have once been the playground and sports-field for the school and it was still being used in a similar manner. There must have been about thirty or forty children charging about, playing on various swings and slides. Toys were everywhere; there were a couple of shallow little plastic paddling pools with boats and other objects floating about. Trampolines, a cardboard fort, huge building blocks and a host of other colourful items were peppered around the place. My eyes lit up when I saw the large bouncy castle, which was proving very popular. It was one of those things that I’d always loved to play on but, being, er, erm… I forget now, but too old for simply jumping up and down on some inflated piece of plastic. What I noticed most was that the children were all ages, from toddlers to teens. In fact, there were definitely other boys and girls who were older than me all running about, screaming and laughing but the one thing we all had in common was - our nightshirts. This was a very specific pyjama party. # A few toddlers were running about wearing just their nappies, whilst others like me wore their brightly coloured nightshirts. As people bounced or ran around, their nightshirts flapped in the warm morning air revealing a host of different coloured protection. Some were plain white, some didn’t wear plastic pants and others had bright and shiny pants keeping everything in. What I noticed, but it didn’t really click as anything strange, was that all the kids of every age were wearing nappies. So, this was gran’s idea of a pyjama party… GREAT… I couldn’t wait to join in. She let go of my hand, patted my padded bum and told me to go and enjoy myself. I didn’t need telling twice and immediately made my way to the bouncy castle. There was a short line of kids waiting and an even longer line of shoes; trainers, sandals and flip-flops belonging to the people already bouncing up and down. I looked around at the swarm of youthful exuberance and hardly anyone was wearing anything on their feet. It must be that once you’d taken them off, the grassy surface proved more enjoyable. I quickly slipped off my trainers and put them into the line with the others and I had to agree, the grass felt really fantastic tickling between my toes. Suddenly I experienced someone slap my arm. “Tag… you’re it” I spun around to see the smiling face of a boy, a little bit younger than me, running away but looking over his shoulder, I suppose to make sure I was going to join in. I did. I set off after him and before long I was playing amongst a group of other kids. It was fantastic, all ages played with each other and no one was left out. As new people arrived they were just as quickly absorbed into the noisy multitude and having a brilliant time. # It appeared that a large proportion of the village youngsters, and quite possibly any that were visiting like me in the school break, were here. It was a very communal activity, which seemed incredibly well supported. Around the edges of the playing field were gazebos and awnings offering shade and sitting chatting in those were where the adults kept themselves. Mostly the noisy kids were left to their own devices but occasionally individuals were called over to have their nappies checked. If the grown up thought they were too wet or messy, they were changed right there and then on the spot before being fitted into a fresh one and sent back out to play. It was the same from the youngest to the oldest and no one thought it odd, mostly those being changed just wanted to get back with their friends to continue whatever it was they were doing. The noise and the screaming, the laughter and childish excitement about being with such a big group of like-minded juveniles was just so infectious. I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed myself so much or played so many different and silly games. # Granny called me over because I’d been running around for about an hour, lifted up my Winceyette nightshirt and slipped her hand down the front of my tight reflective blue pants. “OK baby, let’s get you changed… you’ve been like since we left home and I don’t like you in this state for too long.” I shrugged, so she had known but let it pass because of my excitement… I loved granny. As I looked around I could see that most of the shaded areas had loungers, deck-chairs and spread out covers and most had huge holdalls somewhere nearby. Parents, aunties, uncles and grandparents or whoever was caring for the various children had come well prepared to make sure their little ones were going to be well looked after. # It never occurred to me to be shy or anxious about granny changing me in public. Indeed, only ten feet away a boy, who was probably a couple of years older than me was nonchalantly being changed and next to him was a little girl, possibly his sister, who was also being slid into a pair of nursery print vinyl pants. As soon as both of them were done they kissed their parents and charged off to join their group of friends. As granny was fastening my shiny blue rubber pants back into place, her neighbour, Mrs Davies came over holding the hand of a little boy. He was wearing what appeared to be a very wet disposable but still had a huge smile on his face. “Peter here has just been for a swim in one of the paddling pools,” She half laughed and shrugged at the same time. “He didn’t realise that his nappy would soak up all the water.” She laughed again. “What does he look like?” With that he was plonked down beside me whilst being relieved of his flooded and drooping appendage. “Hewow” He smiled across at me as Mrs Davies got to work cleaning him up and powdering his hairless little body. She introduced him as her grandson. “Hi” I half smiled and nodded back “Wiwl you pway wiv me?” His big blue eyes were both smiling and searching hopefully. Granny gave me a nod and a smile that I took as “That would be a nice thing to do”. Not that I wouldn’t have anyway but… well… I’d do anything to please her. “Mmm, er, sure…” “All done.” Granny patted my padding then pulled the nightshirt back down to my knees. There was something I’d noticed since the first time granny had put me back into a nappy – the padding around my bum and the thickness between my legs made me feel, er, different… no special, er, no that’s not it either. Gave me a feeling of total wellbeing, as if, being wrapped in such soft, thick material was sending messages to my brain declaring all was wonderful and I had absolutely nothing to worry about. Granny also gave me that feeling, as did the nightshirts, there was something unusual going on but it was something I embraced. “This one will be a minute or two yet.” Mrs Davies said as she pretended to search for something under her grandson. His face was engulfed in a broad grin and his little giggle, as she tickled his sides and slightly tubby tummy, was quite contagious. I found myself laughing along with him for no other reason than it was fun to do. Both granny and Mrs D were also smiling as their two charges rolled around hardly able to contain their mirth. We both wriggled on the blanket in our fresh clean nappies chuckling our heads off. # So as to protect young Peter should he want to go back in the paddling pool, Mrs Davies fed a pair of tight see-thru plastic pants up his legs. His blue cartoon printed disposable was clearly squashed by the glossy material giving the effect he was somehow trapped in glass. He squirmed, beaming his childish but quite captivating smile as they were snapped into place. Once granny had made sure I was looking my best, we set off together to find something exciting to do. He slipped his hand into mine and we made our way to the makeshift cardboard fort. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d played with someone his age but I, and a couple of others, were soon involved in a fantastic game of aliens and dinosaurs. I was no stand-offish teen but an energy fuelled toddler and it appeared I wasn’t the only one. Before long we had about ten people join us making monster noises and alien sounds. I’m not sure there were any rules as such but that didn’t stop us charging around having a brilliant time. There simply was no age barriers. # The nightshirts never seemed to hinder our play although sometimes, the colossal size of the protection underneath made running at speed very difficult. Some kids would fall over and expose just how loaded their nappies were or reveal some unexpectedly silky, shimmering covers. Some boys had equally colourful or frilly vinyl pants like the girls but no one commented. In fact, I don’t remember seeing any tears or nastiness amongst any of the children. We were all getting along wonderfully because it didn’t matter, everyone was equal and what you wore wasn’t down to you, it was the decision of the grown up supervising. There were many styles of vinyl pants that I thought looked fantastic and mine, on more than one occasion, had little hands pawing at the very smooth glossy surface. Judging by the noisy mayhem going on around us no one seemed in the least bit inhibited by what they had to wear. # After a further couple of hours the kids started congregating at the canopied areas for some lunch. Once again, everything seemed to be well organised as the huge bags were delved into and a copious amount of food and drink produced. All the kids huddled in close to their parents, or whoever had brought them, and settled down in the shade of the very hot sun, to feast. Granny of course had brought some of her fabulous pies and I shared them with Peter and Mrs Davies. A couple of other grown-ups I didn’t know but whose kids, Ray-Ray and Bonnie, I’d been playing with also came over and shared granny’s and Mrs D’s fabulous baking. “Do you remember Mr and Mrs Wilkinson?” Granny asked me. I felt a bit guilty because obviously granny thought we’d met before but I couldn’t recall when it could have been. “Sorry but…” I shook my head slightly. “Well don’t worry about that.” Mr Wilkinson said smiling before shaking my hand. “You seem to have made great friends with our nephew and niece.” “Yes, we’ve had a great time…” I started to say but the food was being spread out so the adult conversation centred on that. “Thank you for inviting us to join you all.” It was Mrs Wilkinson’s turn to talk. “It really is a splendid day and…” she said looking at the fine spread granny and Mrs D had set out, “you two really have the gift for baking… this all looks simply scrumptious.” # Ray-Ray was wearing a nightshirt like mine except with a different colour combination, whilst the young girl Bonnie just crawled around in her rather bulky nappy. Again it all seemed so normal and our blanket was a wonderful place on which to spread out. As he sprawled, stretched and yawned Ray-Ray’s jammies rode up and I could see the neatly pinned terry nappy he wore under an opaque pair of plastic pants. For some reason, as I bit into a fantastic piece of pie, I began to think whether I preferred fabric or disposables and was quite captivated by the choice made for him. However, as we all enjoyed what was on offer, Mrs Wilkinson produced a couple of drinks for the kids. To my surprise at least, both Ray-Ray and Bonnie, who weren’t toddlers, drank their milk from baby’s bottles. Even Peter, who was the youngest of our little group, drank from a sippy cup and I wondered if granny had brought one for me. She hadn’t, I drank my chocolate milk from a refreshingly cold carton which was delicious. But I was thirsty and begged for a second, which of course granny let me have with a warning to take it easy seeing as I’d wolfed down the last so quickly. Despite my best intentions and with not a little embarrassment, I still somehow managed to get a large proportion of the cool brown milky substance down the front of my nightshirt. “It’s a baby’s bottle for you in future.” Granny said half seriously as she looked around at the others who were slurping and nursing without making a mess. She pulled the stained nightshirt over my head and again I giggled as the tickly fabric sent ripples of pleasure around my body. “I’ll let you rest now and I’ll sort out something else for you later.” Lunch certainly wasn’t as noisy as it had been earlier and, as meals and drinks were finished, things got quieter and quieter until the entire assembly had drifted off as they would at nap time in kindergarten. All around were snoozy and worn out youngsters snuggling up to their loved ones. All the adults seemed grateful for this lull in proceedings and appeared to join them in this calm interval. On our blanket granny, Mrs D and the two other adults were sitting in deckchairs, whilst we kids huddled close together on the warm fleecy blanket. Without my nightshirt I was just wearing my shiny blue protection. As sleep was about to engulf me I felt Peter snuggle up closer and wrap his arm around my slippery protection. I heard him sigh softly as he drifted off, slip his thumb between his lips and, with the weather being so pleasantly warm; it wasn’t long before I joined him. # I woke up to see Peter facing me and sucking on a dummy that had replaced his thumb whilst he still snoozed contentedly. Mrs Wilkinson was in the final act of changing Ray-Ray by pulling up his plastic pants and Mr Wilkinson was patting down his niece’s new pink plastic pants over her large nappy. I could see both fabric nappies held in place by two huge pins with pink safety covers. At the same moment I noticed this I also became aware that I’d wet myself. The chocolate milk had gone right through me and I’d filled my nappy. Granny was just about to see to my needs. Some of the other children were already up and about, charging around like before and bouncing up and down on the inflatable castle. I heard my name called and being waved at so, as granny slipped off my rubber pants, I shouted back that I’d be with them shortly. She peeled away my soaked nappy and set about with a host of wet wipes to clean me up. Ray-Ray and Bonnie had already run off to join their friends and Peter was still sleeping innocently on the blanket. Mrs D checked his padded bottom and grimaced, apparently her angelic little grandson had done more than wet himself. She shrugged, delved into her bag and retrieved another, much larger disposable and some extra padding. She let him doze as she pulled down his plastic pants and released his messy blue disposable. Granny had just about finished cleaning me up and was rustling a pair of see-thru plastic pants up my legs, they looked similar to the ones Peter was wearing and I assumed meant that any ‘accidents’ could be immediately identified. “There.” She announce proudly. “My little sweetie is all spick and span.” She kissed the top of my head and patted my thickly padded bottom and sent me on my way so I didn’t have to be a witness to the mess Peter had made. I was thankful. # The rest of the afternoon continued much the same as the morning and even running around in the hot sun didn’t seem to inhibit anyone’s spirits. We all seemed to have a terrific time though by around four-thirty we were all pretty well tuckered out. Slowly the fun died down. Eventually granny folded up the blanket and packed her bag and called for me as it was home time. I had one last bounce before I regained my trainers and waddled over to her. Peter and Mrs D had already gone; the Wilkinson’s had gone a lot earlier so although I didn’t want the games to end, I knew the party was ending. Someone else was packing up all the chairs and awnings so all we had to do was to say our farewells to those still left. Granny held out her hand and once again I was more than happy to hold it as we toddled home, I even offered to carry her shoulder bag, which she seemed most grateful for. We chatted about the day, about the new friends I’d made and how fantastic I thought the idea of the pyjama party was. I told her I was surprised to see most teens, in fact all the kids, dressed in nightshirts like mine and asked why this was. “Oh sweetie, we’ve been wearing nightshirts for many years, there’s a clever lady who makes them specifically for us here in the village. “But why nightshirts and not, er, you know, normal pyjamas?” “Well sweetheart, it’s down to access.” I looked at her a little confused. “It’s so much easier to change our sweet babies if they wear something that is easily accessible… and over the years we’ve found these nightshirts, which everyone seems to adore, the best system.” “Oh.” The fact that an entire village of youngsters was wearing protection didn’t register as anything unusual. I accepted granny’s reasoning without question. I supposed, if I had to wear a nappy there was no reason why others didn’t feel the need as well and, as I’d found out, I was glad of them now. None of the kids charging around at the party had questioned why they were wearing what they were and nor had I. I hadn’t assumed anything it just wasn’t something I thought needed an answer. It was what it was and we all seemed happy enough with what that was. # We arrived home and the first thing granny did was check if I was damp or not. I was, very. “OK sweetie let’s get your clammy nappy off and you in the bath for a nice long soak.” I smiled and run up the stairs to strip off whilst gran filled the bath with one of her famous lavender bubble bombs. I’d never experienced these before I visited her home but I actually loved the smell, the way it made the water not only bubbly but also feel all silky and nice. My skin felt like I’d been well and truly pampered and sleek with a thin layer of exotic oils. As granny suggested I soaked for a long time I took full advantage. I skipped the need to play with the little yellow duck but kept happily submerging myself below the tide of suds. I’d surface with foam piled on my head and looking in the mirror kept rearranging it to make beards, moustaches and the like. In contrast, the hairs ‘down below’ I’d developed and which had caused some unease on that first night were no longer a problem as they’d simply disappeared. Eventually granny came in like she had on that very first day and spread a towel inviting me to get out and dried. Where once there had been awkwardness and embarrassment about being naked in her presence, now I just climbed out and let her encircle me in the soft folds of her love. # As she rubbed me dry and whispered sweet words of love and encouragement in my ear, the feeling of being fourteen all but disappeared and it was wonderful returning to a part of my childhood where I was so valued, didn’t have to worry and my life was taken care of. Indeed, age seemed to have very little meaning because I’d been happily playing with kids of all ages and none of us cared. I suppose because we were all dressed roughly the same helped but it was just nice not having to worry what others might think or say. It just hadn’t mattered. It was still only about six o’clock, there was still plenty of the day left but granny had already spread out my nightwear. It wasn’t all that different from what I’d been wearing all day so she just guided me over to the pile of stuff I was so getting used to and lay out. She took her time with the lotion, checking to make sure I hadn’t got any more of my body sunburnt before liberally smoothing it over my entire body. She had me roll over onto my tummy and took an equal amount of time making sure my back, neck and legs were all sufficiently coated. She even rubbed some into my bottom that had me giggling like a two year-old. Once that was done came the cloud of baby powder that she freely sprinkled everywhere, which set us both howling like hyenas. A well stuffed fabric nappy was then tightly fastened in place, which reminded me of Ray-Ray’s and once again I couldn’t believe how granny knew so easily what I wanted. The pins were exactly the same and she smiled knowingly as I wriggled in total contentment when she finally slipped a new pair of thick white nursery print vinyl pants up my legs. I was both surprised and elated at this little extra because for some reason it had been another thing I’d desired from the moment I’d first laid eyes on them at the party. # Granny was brilliant she knew everything and made me feel like the luckiest person in the world to have her in my life. She finally eased a new white nightshirt over my head. If possible, and it was, the fabric was even softer and wrapped me in a fleecy hug I found overwhelming. The white fabric had the opening lines from nursery rhymes and cartoon representations of the subject and I found myself singing or saying them out loud to my audience of one. The shirt was a lot shorter than normal and only came down to just over my hips, which meant that my matching protection was obviously on show. At first I wasn’t too sure I thought it looked very babyish but granny was full of praise, saying how nice and special it looked and that she’d had it made specifically for me. She hugged and rocked me in her arms and I could do nothing but respond with equal enthusiasm. Granny was the best, and, as the overpowering sensation of the new ultra-soft touch material caressed the upper part of my body, I could feel the nappy and pants embrace the lower in the same way. # It must have been because I’d had such a hectic day but suddenly I felt quite tired. I’d yawned and granny had asked if I was hungry or thirsty. I wasn’t starving because we’d been snacking all day but I wanted a drink and, ever attentive gran, put me to bed, pulled up the covers and then said she’d go and get me something whilst I rested. The thing about granny’s bed is that it was incredibly comfortable. Once you sink into its soft mattress and slide under the sheets and blankets, it’s like you’re in your own personal cocoon. It may still have been early but I wallowed in the soft comforting bedding and its wonderful overwhelming welcome. When gran returned I was almost asleep but she came and lay by my side and propped my head in her lap. I was only half aware that something was being pressed to my lips but that was enough for me to get the taste of warm strawberry milk. With no other thought than I wanted to drink I opened my mouth and a rubber nipple slipped in and before I really knew much about it, I was sucking and enjoying the fruity warm flavour and thoroughly enjoying the sweet experience. All the time I suckled gran was hugging and humming the nursery rhymes that I’d been singing earlier. I reached under the covers and my hand gently slid across the bulging plastic pants, which also sent ripples of pleasure throughout my body. So that shudder of pleasure, together with the tasty treat I was slurping on, seemed to empty the bottle quickly. Once I’d finished I felt her kiss the top of my head and call me her ‘sweet little baby’ before I snuggled down deeper and drifted off. # The rest of my break at granny’s followed a similar pattern; either other kids came over to our house or I visited them at theirs and we played enthusiastically without a care in the world. Even though my outfit was now more baby-like, and my protection was always on show, it didn’t matter we all happily played together. I vaguely remember waking up from a naptime and hearing Mr and Mrs Wilkinson talking to granny. “… I know its more work but I do enjoy seeing them like this.” Obviously I hadn’t caught the beginning of the conversation. Ray-Ray and Bonnie were lying next to me on the blanket, both with dummies in their mouths and snoozing heavily. I had an empty baby’s bottle next to me but the teat was still resting between my lips. “It’s a shame they have to go back to normal when its school time… they are far more trouble then.” There was a murmur of agreement between the adults. “This village is fantastic, everything about it is designed to encourage kids to be kids and enjoy life as a kid.” It was Mr Wilkinson talking. “No responsibilities, no worries… no growing up… even if it’s all just for a short while.” “Better than never…” Mrs Wilkinson paused and then added, “and we get to have our babies back.” Then I heard granny’s voice. “I worry that my silly daughter and her equally silly husband will still be arguing instead of sorting out their problems.” Her voice went softer. “I hate to think of my poor little Sweet-pea having to put up with all that anxiety. Some time’s I wish I could just keep…” There was a slight pause as Bonnie woke up and looked at her aunt. “Auntie, I’m wet.” “I know precious,” she replied. “We’ll get you all cleaned up when Ray-Ray wakes.” Bonnie leant over to her brother and cheekily pulled the big blue dummy from his mouth. A string of drool accompanied it but it also woke him up. # One morning I woke up and granny suggested I have a bath, which of course I happily agreed to. This time there was no bubbles or fancy bath salts and the towel was draped over the peg on the bathroom door so I even had to dry myself. I ventured back into the bedroom and although granny wasn’t there my clothes were laid out on the bed ready for use. This time it was different. Gone was my nappy and nightshirt and in their place were my other clothes; my jeans, jumper and underwear. Granny called up the stairs. “Hurry up sweetie, your mother will be picking you up in a short while and I don’t want to send you off without any breakfast.” I’d forgotten that I’d have to return to school after my two week break and I really didn’t want to. My time with granny and the rest of the people in the village had been the best time of my life. I slipped into my underwear and it just didn’t seem right, I was missing that bulk but, as I was going home I suppose I couldn’t wear a nappy for that. # I sat at the kitchen table dressed pretty much as I’d arrived two weeks earlier. I slowly ate the bacon and eggs granny had cooked and her cheerful chat tried to keep my disappointment at bay. I didn’t want to leave but a new school term called and I couldn’t get out of it. I asked granny if it would be OK to come and visit her again during my next break, she said she’d like that a lot. I gratefully sighed and smiled back at her - she was and is totally amazing. There was a knock on the door and mum came in. She kissed gran and then kissed me and smiled at seeing me again. “I’ve, er, we’ve missed having you around.” She ruffled my hair in a loving manner. As I finished my breakfast granny and mum went into the conservatory to chat privately. “OK sweetheart, we need to get an early start we have some shopping for new school clothes and I thought I’d treat you to a spot of lunch at the mall. Would you like that?” I nodded semi-enthusiastically. I was going to miss granny but already I was forgetting why. At the door I kissed granny goodbye and thanked her for having me. “Anytime sweet-pea… there’s always a place for you here… whenever you need it.” I slung my backpack onto the back seat of the car and climbed in beside mum in the front. As we drove away a pang of… something… I wasn’t sure what rippled through my body. When passed the sign that said WELCOME TO THURSWELL GREEN – children please drive carefully another shiver made me go quite rigid. “Are you OK sweetheart?” Mum sounded concerned. “Mmmm, yes, er, I think so… just sad to be leaving… “ Mum smiled and I was left wondering why exactly it was that I felt so depressed about leaving. “Well, what have you been up to over the past fortnight?” Mum enquired. “Oh, nothing much. Oh I did fall in the brook,” I smiled at the memory but then remembered something else. “Unfortunately it destroyed my Ipad.” “Well that would explain why we hardly heard anything from you.” I wasn’t sure if mum was thankful I’d not kept in touch or relieved but either way she made my day by saying that since we were going to be at the mall, perhaps we should get a new one. This booked me up no end and I was really pleased. “Wow, thanks mum. I promise I’ll keep it safe.” She laughed “What else have you been up to?” “Oh nothing much.” I really couldn’t remember much at all. “Well as long as you got on well with granny.” “Do you know she doesn’t have a TV… and… get this… doesn’t even miss it.” Mum laughed in mock horror. “So what on earth did you do to pass the time?” “Mmmm, oh this and that, the weather was nice so I could get out and….” I trailed off. I couldn’t remember much about anything I’d done. ############ The End

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

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

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?

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.