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Hi there staying in Hilton Metropole in Brighton from 7-14 July. Really would love to meet fellow nappy lovers for mutual changes and fun

Unfortunately I’ve creatively run out of ideas for my last story (Transatlantic Troubles) so I’ve abandoned that for now. However I really wanted to start something new but because I don’t have time to write a story with multiple chapters I’m instead going to write a series of mini-stories. ——————— “Charlie has really been struggling at the moment. Dropping out of University seems to have made him even more anxious and reclusive as normal and it’s making me really sad to see him so down” Sally explained to her sister Emma over the phone. “I’ve tried to encourage him to meet up with his friends but he comes up with an excuse not to every time. He seems content with just sitting in his room playing on his Xbox all day”. “Aww that’s really sad, a 20 year old boy should be out making the most of the best years of his life instead of moping around in his room all day. You don’t think it’s got anything to do with your little chat you had with him a few weeks ago do you?” Emma responded, referring to the revelation that Charlie had some ‘strange’ fantasies. “Well I mean it’s a good chance it is. Gosh I really don’t know what to do with him”. Sally sighed. “I’ve actually been thinking about what you told me quite a bit. Have you ever thought about giving Charlie what he wants?” Emma asked. “What do you have in mind?” Sally inquisitively asked her sister… One week later Charlie had just finished a game of Fortnite, which he inevitably lost, and was making his way out of his bedroom and down to the kitchen, where his mum was sat on the dining room table working away on her laptop. “You alright honey?” Sally said looking at her son, who was making his way to the fridge. “Yep” Charlie half-heartedly responded. Charlie opened the fridge door looking for something to have for lunch, opting for a slice of leftover pizza. He had a long afternoon of video games and needed to stock up before starting. “You aren’t going to be playing on that Xbox all afternoon again are you?” Sally asked. “Well there’s nothing else to do is there?” Charlie said before making his way out of the room. “Charlie stop there, it’s nice outside why don’t you ask John or Chris if they want a kick-about or something?” Sally said as she grabbed Charlie’s arm to stop him leaving. “They’re busy”, that’s the best excuse Charlie could come up with on the spot. “Wow those two must be the busiest people in this town! Well if you aren’t going to make plans for yourself then I’ll do it for you. I was speaking to your aunty Emma last week and she really needs someone to clear out her spare bedroom and I’ve volunteered you to go to hers tomorrow and help” Sally explained to Charlie. “And I’m not going to take no for an answer, it’ll be good for you to get out of the house”. “But mum!” Charlie protested. “No arguing, I’ve told her you’ll be at hers at 9am tomorrow morning. And take a spare change of clothes because it could be all dirty and dusty moving the old furniture” Sally ordered. Charlie simply huffed and then went back up to his room, realising that he couldn’t really get out of the visit. The most of the afternoon and evening was spent playing Fornite and FIFA. After dinner he went back up to his room and stuck on Netflix in the background while browsing the latest stories of Daily Diapers, and after finding the right story he inevitably finished the evening by masturbating, imagining himself in the story. Since he outed himself to his mum about being an ABDL after being caught with a package of cheap incontinence pants for the third time, he tried to be as private as possible about continuing his fantasies but the idea of his mum knowing about it made him feel extremely embarrassed. The day of his visit to his Aunty’s had arrived and Charlie was woken up by Sally, who brought him a cup of tea. She told him she was going to work and reminded him of the arrangements for the day. After half an hour or so of scrolling TikToks, he finished his tea and headed to the shower. After drying himself he headed back into his bedroom and got dressed, first picking out a pair of light blue briefs. The reason he wore briefs over boxers was that they were more comfortable to wear when wearing sports, or at least that was the reason he gave to his mum. In reality he wore briefs because it made him feel more childish. After picking out a light grey Hype tracksuit and some spare Nike joggers and jumper, he got himself ready and headed out the door. His Aunty’s house was only a 20 minute walk from his house and the weather was pretty mild so there was no need to get the bus. As he walked down the street on the outskirts of the town centre he looked across the road to see a younger mother pushing a buggy with a toddler riding inside. He noticed that the toddler wasn’t wearing any shorts of trousers and a pampers nappy was fully exposed, and this instantly made Charlie extremely jealous. ‘If only that was me’ he daydreamed. It wasn’t long before Charlie was at the door of the small semi-detached house in a quiet urban street. As he knocked the door he was his Aunty walk towards him through the semi-transparent glass to the right of the door. The door swung open. “Hey Charlie it’s so nice to see you!” Emma squeaked as she pulled Charlie into a warm embrace. “Hi Aunty Emma” Charlie said as she squeezed him to the point of suffocation. “You look great how are things” Emma asked as she pushed him away from her and ruffled his curly mop. “Let’s go inside and have a catch up”. Emma led Charlie through the doorway and straight into the living room. Emma was divorced and lived alone, although she often had guests and therefore the living room was decorated in a very neutral theme. She told him to take a seat on the big beige leather sofa. “You make yourself comfortable and I’ll make us a cup of tea” Emma said as she left him and headed to the kitchen. Charlie simply sat there politely looking around the room. He noticed a plastic storage box in the corner which seemed out of place but didn’t think anything more of it. “Here you go” Emma said as she handed him a mug of tea. “Thanks” Charlie responded. “So how are things? How is the job search going?” Emma enquired. “Yeah I’m fine thank you, no luck as of yet but I’m still looking!” Charlie said rather unenthusiastically. The search of a job had completely come to a halt truth be told. “I’m sure you’ll find one sooner or later. Your mum told me you’ve felt a bit down recently are you sure everything is alright?” Emma asked. Charlie begun to think this was a bit of interrogation. “Umm not really I’m fine, don’t know why she’s say that” he responded defensively. Emma got up off the armchair and sat right next to Charlie, placing her hand his. “You know Charlie, don’t be scared but your mum told me about your little confession. About wanting to be a baby again?” she said rather apprehensively. Charlie froze in his spot, feeling betrayed at his mum breaking her vow not to tell anyone about his ABDL tendencies. “Www… what?” he said as tears began to form in his eyes. “Oh no no no Charlie don’t be scared it’s okay. I’m not judging you, in fact I want to help” Emma explained as she rubbed his hand. “To tell you the truth I don’t actually need my spare bedroom clearing out, me and your mum think you need some time to do what you want” she said, alluding to his secret desires. “What I’m trying to get at is we’d both like you to explore your fantasies a bit more. We’ve even got you all the supplies and they are ready upstairs”. “I, I don’t understand” Charlie quietly said, hardly being able to say anything in shock. “Charlie I’m going to help you live out your fantasy, you’re free to act like a baby all day and I’m going to look after you. I did used to work in a nursery after all?” Emma said as she smiled at him. A million thoughts went through his mind. Charlie was shocked that his mother had gone behind his back and told someone else about his confession, but also felt like this was too good an opportunity to turn down. He had always been pretty close to his Aunty and she was the type of person who is willing to give anything a go. He really had to think about his response. “Ummm I’m not really sure I’m comfortable with this? I’ve never done anything with anyone before” Charlie said sheepishly as he sipped his tea. “Don’t be scared, I’ll guide you through all of it and I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do” Emma reassured him. “What do you say, do you want to be my baby for the day?”. Charlie hesitated a few seconds before answering. His heart was beating so fast he could hardly breath. Was this really happening? He was on the cusp of fulfilling his deepest fantasy, how could he turn this down. “Okay, but please promise me you won’t tell anyone” Charlie insisted. “Of course sweety, it’ll be our secret. Come here” Sally said as she opened up her arms for a hug. Charlie obliged and they embraced again. He felt a warm feeling as she stroked the back of his head lovingly. “Come on let’s go upstairs and get started” Emma said as she stood up and held his hand, leading him out of the living room. As they both climbed the stairs Charlie couldn’t help but stare at his aunty’s plump behind. The skin tight blue jeans she was wearing only intensified her incredible figure. Eventually they entered the spare bedroom and Charlie’s eyes locked onto the objects laid out on the bed. He saw a small Thomas the tank engine changing mat on the single bed, with a bottle of talcum powder, a package of baby wipes and a stack of 3 Tena Slip Maxi nappies. His face went bright red. “Now Charlie I want you to lie down on the changing mat and I’ll get you sorted” Emma turned and smiled at her nephew. “I could probably do this part myself” Charlie pushed back. “No no I insist. If you’re going to be a baby for a day we’re going to do it properly. Just relax I know you want to do this” Emma assured him. Charlie smiled and after a slight hesitation he sat on the bed and shuffled over so he was lying on the end of the bed with his legs hanging off the end. Emma then stood above him at the end of the bed and smiled. “Let’s get these big boy trousers off” Emma said as she pushed up his hoodie and grabbed the waistband of the joggers and begun pulling them down his legs. Once they were off his hairless legs and blue briefs were exposed. “Your pants are cute Charlie I like them!” Emma teased as she let out a little giggle, which only made Charlie more embarrassed. She then proceeded to pull them down his legs, “oh dear looks like you need some protection more than you think” she added as she held up the briefs to reveal a small wet spot on the front. He always dribbled the last drop of wee into his pants. “Aunty!” Charlie said as he dropped his hands down onto the bed forcefully. “I’m only teasing you sweety, now let’s get you into a nappy” Emma announced. The mere mention of the word got Charlie excited and he now needed to compose himself so he didn’t make the experience even more awkward than it already was. Charlie watched as Emma picked up the nappy and stretched it out. She then patted him on the thigh instructing him to left up his bottom. He complied as he lifted his legs and bottom up as he felt his Aunty slip the nappy underneath, and as he sat back down on the soft padding. He was in dreamland as his Aunty sprinkled a generous amount of powder on his crotch, shocked that he had managed to avoid an erection. “Nearly done” Emma teased as she lifted the front of the nappy over his genitals and strapped each side carefully. As he was fastened into the nappy the only feeling he had was pure elation. “All done Charlie! Stand up and let me have a look” Emma said as she grabbed both of his hands and lifted him up onto his feet. As he stood up straight he looked down and saw the nappy encapsulate his lower waist and crotch. He could feel it’s presence between his legs, and by no means was it a bad feeling. His aunty then proceeded to feel his bottom and adjust the waistband slightly until she was satisfied. “Wow you look so cute, does it make you feel little?” she asked him. “Yeah it does, it’s a bit big” Charlie responded as he then felt with his own hands. It protruded from all angles and it looked as authentic as a real babies nappy. “Well it is a nappy silly!” Emma laughed. “Now, do you want to wear what you are wearing now or would you like something a bit more, let’s say, fitting?”. Charlie knew this meant some sort of childish clothing but thought better of it, deciding to opt for baby steps in this experience. “Umm I’ll just stick with what I’m wearing now if that’s okay?” he said. “Okay if you want, but let’s leaving the joggers off for now. I don’t think they’ll actually fit over the nappy!” Emma compromised as she picked his joggers off the floor and folded them before placing them on the bed. “Let’s go downstairs”. She held her hand out to her now nappied nephew. Charlie took her hand and walked towards the door. Before they got to the doorway he looked to his right and saw his side profile in the full length mirror. He saw himself, wearing a grey hoodie, white sports socks and in between a large nappy. “Like what you see? Come on” Emma teased as she swatted him on the bum signalling him to move on. Charlie’s cheeked heated up and quickly carried on until he reached the stairs. They went back into the living room and both sat on the sofa. “Good boy” Emma remarked as he sat down. “Now Charlie, you can dictate how far into your baby fantasy you dive. That big box over there is full of toys from the nursery I used to work at so if you want to play with them go ahead. I’ll put some cartoons on the TV as well in case you want to just relax and watch them” Emma explained. That explained why that big out-of-place box was there. “Remember you are wearing a nappy so you have permission to wee or poo yourself if you want. I don’t mind changing you it was once my job to clean dirty bottoms!” she joked. This again made Charlie blush for the one thousandth time. “I’m going to do some washing up in the kitchen, I’ll be back in a few hours with a surprise” Emma said. “Oh and I’ll just leave this here” she added as she took something out of her pocket and placed in on the coffee table. Just like a rapper dropping the mic, she left the room swiftly. As Charlie looked down at the table he saw a solitary purple dummy. Charlie’s attention turned to the TV, which was now showing a cartoon called Bluey. He was sure he’d seen it somewhere before and eventually remembered that he’d briefly seen a few clips on TikTok. He sat for a few minutes transfixed on the TV and actually found himself enjoying the show. Periodically he’d look down and gaze at his nappy, poking and prodding it now and again to remind himself of what he was wearing. After a few episodes he became a bit bored of Bluey. It wasn’t that he wasn’t enjoying it, but he felt as though he was wasting time as he could pretty comfortably do that at home. He instead got up off the sofa and and walked towards the toy box. He took off the lid and then peered in seeing a vast array of toys. He saw teddies, action figures, puzzles and even some rattles. After rustling through his curious it was peaked by some wooden train tracks and trains. It suddenly unlocked a childhood memory and remembered it was in fact Brio. Charlie collected as much track as possible and began building his train network. As he connected the track together he perched on his elbows and knees with his bum stuck up in the air. To any onlooker he must’ve looked so babyish with his nappy exposed for all to see. Once the track was complete he began pushing the trains around the track, being taken over by an overwhelming feeling of nostalgia. As he stood up and went over to retreat some more trains from the toy box he felt a twinge in his bladder but chose to ignore it. It’s not like he’d never wet a nappy before, in fact he’d wet and even messed nappies as recently as a few months before today, but hadn’t quite prepared to do it in the open and in the presence of anyone else especially his aunty. While playing with the Brio, Emma walked into the room, stopping for a few seconds to see her nephew laying on his stomach with his legs kicking the air while playing with the train set. She couldn’t help but smile. “Having fun Charlie” she said. Charlie jumped in shock and immediately twisted around to sit in his bum and look up at his aunty. “Ummm just reminiscing with this Brio set I found” he replied. “I remember you playing with that when you were younger, you’ve always loved your trains haven’t you! After all of that playing you must be thirsty?” Emma asked, keeping her hands behind her back. “Well I’ve got a little treat for you”. She then revealed what she was holding. Charlie saw her holding a large babies bottle full of milk. She was clearly ramping up the baby experience for him. “Come over here” Emma ordered as she sat down on the sofa. Charlie got up and walked towards her before she placed her hand in his chest signalling for him to stop. He stood confused in front of his aunty. Her hand moved down to Charlie’s crotch, cupping the bottom of the nappy and then running her fingers along the edge of the nappy. “All dry! Remember if you need a wee just let it go, that’s what the nappy is for” his aunty told him. She then patted on the sofa as he sat down next to her. “Why don’t you get comfy and lay down, put your head on my legs here” she put her hand on Charlie’s back and he did as he was told, remaining silent throughout. Within seconds he was lying on his back with his head on his aunty’s lap, looking up at her. “Good boy, here you go” she cooed as she lowered the bottle into his mouth as he received the plastic nipple. He began sucking and the warm milk flowed into his mouth. The intense joy of the drink made him shut his eyes, aided by his aunty stroking his fringe. They sat for a fair amount of time just relaxing as he finished off the bottle of milk. “All gone! Wow you must’ve been thirsty” Emma announced as she lifted the bottle back out of his mouth. “Did you enjoy that?”. “That was really nice thank you” Charlie said as he sat back up. His bladder was now beginning to ache as he realised it wouldn’t be long until he needed to release. “Right I’ll leave you to carry on playing. I’ll put Finding Nemo on the TV for you in case you want to watch that instead and have a snooze” Emma said as she grabbed the remote and navigated to the films section. Once she pressed play she got up and went back towards the kitchen. “Thank you Aunty Emma” Charlie said with a smile on his face. “Aww my pleasure sweety. Just shout if you’d like anything to eat” Emma said. She suddenly turned back around and picked up the dummy off the table and in one swoop pushed it into Charlie’s mouth. She then bent down and kissed is forehead, before finally leaving. Charlie just let it happen, he’d fully loosened up to the baby experience at this point. Speaking of loosening up, Charlie realised he pretty desperately needed to pee and couldn’t wait much longer. He glanced again at the doorway and listened out just to make sure his aunty wasn’t coming back in. Once he gave himself the green light he slumped off the sofa into a squat position with his back up against the sofa, then adjusting the nappy in between his legs. He looked up and began watching Finding Nemo, trying to relax so he could comfortably release his bladder. After quite a few seconds he could feel the first few drops of wee come out, and after only a small push he felt a tidal wave explode into the front of his nappy. Due to his position, it washed over his balls like a tidal wave before being soaked up by the lower part of the Tena. He let out an audible sigh through the dummy as the warmth encapsulated his crotch. After moments of pure elation he could feel his wee come to a close, but to his surprise, as he pushed for the final time to make sure his bladder was fully empty, he received another call from his body. “Uh oh” he whispered as he came to the realisation that his bowels were asking for release. Looking back he hadn’t had is regular bowel movement this morning before leaving so it was due, but unfortunately it had come at the wrong time. He did briefly consider finding his aunty and asking to go to the toilet, but he remembered what she’d said earlier and he;d already wet himself, he may as well go all the way and make the most of the nappy. He switched position, seamlessly transitioning from a squat to being on all fours. As he stared at the TV, he began actively sucking the dummy as he concentrated on pushing. After a few hard pushes, he felt some movement. “Eughhhhh” he groaned as a large log squeezed out of his cheeks and crashed into the resistance of the back of his nappy. He kept up momentum as the poo broke and fell into the nappy, followed by some softer poo that smeared across him bum and the nappy. A couple of smaller pushes were to no avail, everything was out, and his nappy had gone from completely clean to pretty much full in a matter of minutes. Charlie stood up and assessed the damage. As he stood up straight the softer poo smudged in between his cheeks and he felt the soggy material push against his skin. He looked down to see the nappy sagging between his legs, and began exploring with his hand as he felt in between his legs and on his bottom. He could feel the lump protruding behind as he felt his penis stiffen and sniffed the air, which was now twinged with an aroma of a dirty nappy. Suddenly his attention turned to his surroundings. He decided the best thing to do would be to sit down and cling onto the faint hope that his aunty wouldn’t notice his wet and messy nappy. He backed up to the sofa before lowering down onto the cold leather, before committing and shifting his weight onto his bottom. The mess smeared all over his cheeks and even felt a small bit of poo travel up his bum crack, which caused a shiver to be sent up his spine. He carried on watching Finding Nemo and sucking on his dummy, awaiting his fate. About half an hour later, Charlie heard some footsteps get louder and louder with every step. By this time his nappy had cooled and the poo had almost hardened like cement. He’d hardly moved in the time since he sat down. ‘Here we go’ he thought to himself. “Hey Charlie, are you enjoying the film?” His aunty asked as she walked in with a duster in hand, waving it around the book cabinet next to the door. “Yep it’s one of my favourites” Charlie said as calm as he could. “Oh that’s good, I’m just going doing a bit of cleaning don’t mind m” Emma was cut off by something. She stood and looked around the room, before audibly sniffing the air three or four times. She stood facing Charlie on the other side of the room and put her hands on her hips. “Charlie is there something you want to tell me?” she asked him. Charlie sat silently. “Hmmm, something in here smells and I think you might know what it is?” She asked him again. “And don’t think I haven’t noticed that blue line on the front of your nappy”, Emma peered down at Charlie’s crotch. Emma slowly walked over to him and then sniffed again. “Up” she said promptly. Charlie slowly got up off the sofa and as soon as he was upright she grabbed his shoulders and turned him around. He then felt the back waistband of his nappy open before being pinged back into position. “Just as I thought, Charlie has pooed himself! And it’s a smelly one too phewy!” Emma teased as Charlie turned around just in time to see her pinch her nose. Charlie’s eyes began to water. “Is there something you want to ask me Charlie?” his aunty asked. “Ummm, can you change me please?” Charlie said quietly, with his hands hiding his crotch. “And why do you need changing Charlie?” she added, trying to make him feel as small as possible. “Well… because, I, umm, I’ve done a wee and a poo” Charlie said in a more babyish tone, his desires beginning to take over. “Of course you can honey. Are you able to walk or would you rather I carried you?” she asked him. Charlie simp,y held up his arms up signalling he’d rather be carried. Without saying anything, she grabbed under his armpits and lifted him up in the air before moving her arms so she was holding him by his thighs, with his bum and messy nappy hanging between. He wrapped his arms around her neck and buried his head into her shoulder. “Oh this stinky boy is heavy! Let’s get upstairs before I drop you” she said as she quickly headed to the stairs. Her tone of voice suggested she was really using all her strength to carry him. After just a few seconds they were upstairs and he was lowered onto the changing mat. “Let’s take your hoodie off just in case” she said as she helped him take the hoodie off, leaving him in just a grey t-shirt, a soggy nappy and a pair of white socks. Charlie remained silent as his aunty got to work on wiping his bottom and cleaning any area that the nappy had made contact with. He had his eyes shut the whole time, not being able to bear the site of his aunty wiping poo off his bum. “There we go all clean, bet that feels better Charlie?” Emma asked as she wrapped up the dirty nappy and placed it on the floor. “Yeah it does thanks” he responded, not quite as embarrassed now the deed was done. “Now Charlie you have a choice. I can either put you back in your pants and you can head home, or I can get you into a clean nappy and I’ll call your mum telling her you’d like to stay for tea. What’ll it be?” Emma enquired as Charlie looked straight at her, with his light blue briefs in one hand and a folded Tena Slip Maxi in the other. He looked at both items. If he chose the pants, he’d potentially be waving away the chance to indulge further in his greatest fantasy. If he chose the nappy, he would be indicating to his aunty and mum that he was a baby at heart but would be harder to deal with when he inevitably went home and back to reality. It was a real dilemma. “Would it be okay to stay for tea?” Charlie answered. Safe to say his aunty wasn’t at all surprised by his answer. “Okay baby, I’ll call your mummy” Emma said as she smiled at her nephew.

Mahmoud – the shaver He arrived exactly at the time specified and I opened the door to find a rather good looking, dark skinned, 24 year-old on my doorstep carrying a holdall. As he entered he smiled a dazzling smile that immediately put me at ease and we shook hands. He told me his name was Mahmoud and that’s what I should call him if I felt the need to speak. However, he wanted to get straight down to what he’d come for and told me to go and shower. I told him I’d had one earlier but he insisted that I go again - As the hot water would soften the bristles as he shaved my hairy bollocks. He told me to turn off any mobile, music etc. as he didn’t want any distractions and sent me off to the bathroom. Meanwhile, he would prepare the area and get himself ready. This was a first for me. I’d seen his advert on a specialist site online for ‘Pubic Shaving’ and it appealed. The thought of someone else doing something so intimate had got my thoughts going mad and the excitement at the prospect had made sure I booked my new visitor at the earliest opportunity. The fact he took charge was a bonus and, even though I was a good ten years older and had six inches in height, it was good for me to know my place. # I spent about ten minutes making sure every part of my body got a good hot soaking and when I returned to the living room Mahmoud had laid out a huge thick white towel, as well as his shaving items and massage oils. He was also naked except for a shiny thick metal cock ring that was held in place by three leather straps; a thick one around his waist and thinner ones around the top of each thigh. His cock was pushed out by the ring but in truth didn’t appear to be that large or threatening. However, with his slim toned body the overall look was absolutely stunning and I settled down naked on the towel to let him get to work. Firstly he trimmed my thick pubic bush with a pair of scissors and when that was down to a manageable length he foamed up a rich lather spreading it all over my cock and balls. The feeling was of the most exquisite sensuality and of course my cock began to grow. I don’t have a particular large cock but it was firming up nicely as he ministered the foam and applied his razor. He was slow, methodical and intense, whilst replying in a soft whisper to all the questions I wanted to ask. Despite him saying he didn’t want any distractions he was far too polite to tell me to shut up. Manners and good looks – what could be better? “What country are you from originally?” “Iran.” “What are you doing in England?” “At the University studying agriculture, bio chemistry and English.” “What made you start doing this shaving… um… thing?” I struggled to find the correct description for what was happening. “My father taught me. We do this in the village where I come from. It is a tradition that the older men keep their genitals free of hair. The reason for this is steeped in folklore and is a bit too confusing for Westerners to understand.” I could tell he didn’t want to take the explanation any further and in all honesty my conversation was coming to a close as with each stroke of the razor my cock throbbed with delight. # He took over an hour stripping each and every hair from my cock and balls and made a neat leveled-off pattern around the top of my thighs. With every small or long stroke from his cut throat razor his finger, finger nail, palm or the edge of his instrument would gently rub and stimulate my hard-on even more. My mind was doing loops of desire and excitement as the thrill-factor seemed to increase but no offer for release was presented. I happily throbbed, pulsed and sweated manfully as he cleared my pubes to produce a stunningly smooth and utterly hairless surface. I don’t think I’ve ever been so naked apart from when I was a baby and the soft white area made my cock look even bigger, more proud and an absolute stonking organ anyone would have been proud to own. As he rubbed some sweet smelling liquid into the newly shaved area he just told me that this would take away any possible razor burns my skin might react to and would make it so the area remains silky soft and smooth for quite some time. I loved what he’d done and was all set to offer my thanks and let him be on his way… except he told me the job wasn’t over yet and that I should turn over. He told me that all my hair should come off and that included the great hairy tufts that surrounded my arse. I wasn’t going to complain. I looked at his cock and it had grown to a cute size itself, about four inches, and jerked up and down as he set about lathering up my bum. For all the sensuality that he had given my cock and balls I wasn’t quite ready for the thrilling feelings that my bum soon enjoyed. The foamy brush tickled and teased my very being as he lathered up my puckered and tight hole. Again he took ages and was concentrating even more on dispensing with the hair but making sure not to cut into the vulnerable skin. Under me my cock was as stiff as ever and I desperately wanted to shoot my load all over the thick white towel… and then some more… but another hour was spent keeping me on the very sexual edge as he slowly sliced away at the tight hairs that seemed to take an age to get rid of. I closed my eyes and gave way to all those exquisite calm feelings flowing over me and I drifted sleepily in between consciousness and unconsciousness. I came out of a fantastic relaxing dream and felt him soothing more oils into my naked bum and massaging my bum cheeks; his small brown fingers occasionally slipping and tickling my hole. First one digit, then a tickle followed by a slightly deeper probe and another graze from an errant finger nail, my God, this feeling was utterly amazing. In all my life I had never been fucked but this attention to my hole was such an unbelievable turn on I began to think about the possibilities. His hands came together as if in prayer and he formed a thicker digit by pressing two fingers together and pushing into my arse. I opened up to receive whatever it was and I felt the thickness increase as he spent a few minutes oily massaging my sphincter muscle. Again he did this most methodically and I was aware that my hole was opening up under this gentle but insistent attack and wishing he had a cock to match the horny lustful thoughts that were spinning around in my brain. # He ordered me to get up on my hands and knees and I did so without thinking as I hoped he would now let me relieve my bubbling, cum-filled balls. The fingers that he’d just spent time massaging my hole were now wrapped over my eyes in a sort of pretend blindfold and he moved them down to my mouth and tenderly offered them each to be licked. Although he was not being pushy I felt I had no alternative but to suck on each one and when I did Mahmoud let out a small gasp of pleasure and satisfaction. Once licked and cleaned his hands moved down my body and stroked my hips, which had started to buck slightly as if I was fucking some invisible hole. My cock was hard and desperate for release and my bum hole was now on fire, whatever that lotion was had produced an incredible sensation that needed to be satiated. As he played with my hips I could feel his cock nudge at my hole and was pleased that he wanted to fuck me. I thought that it was the least I could do after the things he’d done for me and hoped that he would get some satisfaction out of it. The nudge at the entrance to my burning hole just held itself for a few seconds and I was desperate to ease myself back onto him. He gripped my hips and started to pull me back guiding his cute cock up past my hot ring. As I pushed back I suddenly felt my hole being stretched wide and, judging by the size of it I’d seen earlier, I guessed that I’d be backed up to his pelvic bone by now but the length just kept going. With each inch I was stretched even wider and Mahmoud encouraged me to take the whole thing as he said I was ready for it. He pulled me back some more and my love muscle gaped in wonder as this thick object pushed me even wider. I began to get nervous but Mahmoud encouraged me more and insisted that I didn’t touch my own cock but just make sure I stayed upright and on all fours. Like everything else so far from my Iranian friend, everything had been slow, definite and gentle but now, with this huge cock embedded deep in my gut he let out some Iranian words and began to fuck me hard and passionately. I screamed in surprise but the foreign words just kept tumbling from his mouth. At times it was like he was saying some kind of prayer and at others that he was calling on all his ancestors to join him in this marathon fuck. He may have been calling me names, swearing at me or just happy to be screwing a newly shaved arse I don’t know but what I did know was that I had to work really hard to stay on all fours as this slim-hipped young man powered away into me. # My cock exploded a torrent of cum all over the towel and I’d never seen so much gush out of my knob - spurt after spurt seemed to make a huge lake and still he fucked deep yelling at the top of his voice. My arms buckled and give way but my legs stayed where they were so he was fucking my butt as my chest lay in my own pool of warm milky juice. I begged him to stop but he obviously wasn’t anywhere near ready to unload so I just gritted my teeth and relaxed my hole as much as I could. For another 30 minutes he fucked (and I came twice more) eventually shouting, in Iranian, that he had arrived. My hole was stinging, hot, used, wide and hairless as he withdrew and although, at that moment I felt used, I was unbelievably satisfied. I’d never had, nor dreamt of having, a session of such intensity and I was immensely grateful… if more than a bit shagged out. After a couple of recovering minutes I turned to thank him and he was busy unscrewing a long, thick pink prosthetic cock from his cock ring. His own cock fit nicely inside it and I could see that he had eventually cum himself as the stuff was dripping from the object as he held it up for inspection He patted my bum. “Very nice Mister… thank you,” he said with that slight accent. “I have enjoyed myself immensely.” Naked, newly shaved and with a sore arse that was sore but glowing… I was really a bit stunned and just had this stupid, uncomprehending smile on my face. He quickly packed his stuff away, cleared up and put everything back into the backpack he arrived with. As he got dressed I noticed that he slipped into a pristine white disposable, which he taped into place without a thought. He pulled up his trousers and then grabbed his backpack, pulled out another neatly folded disposable and shook it out. I knew it was meant for me and recoiled at the very idea. “No?” he questioned as I shook my head telling him I wasn’t going to wear a nappy. “This is impregnated with exceptional botanicals and especially formulated talc from my village.” He fluffed it out and a small cloud of powder rose up. “This will keep you comfortable, whilst the soothing nature of all those ingredients will add to the pleasure your newly shaved areas will appreciate.” My half-hearted protests were ignored as he told me to lift and I did. Before fastening me in he squeezed some oily gel into the palm of his hand and slavered it all over the now nude areas. “This is to be used at every change.” I didn’t quite grasp what he meant. “It will keep hair growth down and moisturize the area and will add more sensitivity.” He smiled, “And you will love the sensations this little piece of padded bliss will offer.” With that he taped me in and handed over the small jar of the cream he’d just used. “Remember, apply it sparingly but at every change and the effect is better if you wear…” and he pointed to the fresh nappy. “I recommend that you keep that one on for at least twenty-four hours if you can. Use it for its purpose if necessary but the benefit will be greater the longer you leave it on… give everything time to take effect. I can guarantee you’ll love the benefits.” I tried to tell him I wouldn’t be replacing the damn thing but he just smiled, shushed me and told me to close my eyes, relax and let my body, not my mind, do the thinking. Perhaps strangely I was still under his spell and as he let himself out, having taken the money I’d left as payment on the side table, I let myself feel the soft padded comfort of the disposable gently envelop my mind as well as my groin. He was correct, the padding was comforting and the newly shaved areas seemed to be aglow with sensitivity. I didn’t have to touch anything yet could feel the soothing unguents doing their job, seeping into my skin to make me shiver in delight. Whatever was in that stuff was quite powerful and soon my entire body was aflame and euphoric? I stood up and walked to the mirror in the bathroom. I assumed the reflection would endorse what I thought about wearing a nappy but no, I was wrong. The tight fitting piece of layered material hugged and comforted me and bizarrely looked and felt like it was needed. I had to do some appraising and realized that I wanted all of this to happen. I wanted someone to take charge and treat me in the way Mahmoud had done. I loved the reflection and the fact that the nappy was hugging me tightly so why would I want anything else? So, despite my initial reaction to wearing padding I now saw it as a positive that went with having a shaved groin. The fabric caressed my shaved cock, balls and arse and it was electric. It was only different underwear to what I was used to and who’s to say, this style was any worse. I ran my hand over the soft padding and it felt really nice and soft but in my head I could think of nothing except this was the correct item to wear for a recently shaved, baby soft guy like me. Mahmoud was correct the nappy was all part of the process and I didn’t want to lose that feeling. I was hooked so the nappy stayed. ********

Fallen Angel I put my arm around him and his body tensed for a moment then relaxed into my reassuring embrace. He was a foreign student and quite shy but there was no doubt he knew what he wanted. He was hot, and although I also knew what I wanted, decided to go slow and be gentle. His slim, almost waif-like body looked like it would break if too much pressure was exerted. It was in my second year at university and we’d met because he was a newbie and I was showing him around. I took to him straight away. His accent alone sent shivers of excitement down my spine but the fact he seemed to like me as much, and was willing to spend the night, was so damn thrilling. In the student bar we’d had a few drinks so I suppose our inhibitions were affected but he hadn’t objected at all when I suggested he come back to my room... and stay the night. It wasn’t only his accent, he had incredibly thick and long eyelashes, his cherubic face and slim waist made him appear... well, if not an angel, someone definitely sent by the gods. I undid his shirt, then the top button on his jeans and at that point he held me close. I liked such a mutual reaction. “Mmmm,” he purred, or what I took as a purr. "I'm not going to do anything you don't want me to," I said trying to reassure him and at the same time slipping my hand inside the top of his jeans. My fingers slowly inched down his body and stopped when they touched something soft and glossy. As I explored further his zip undid itself to reveal my new friend’s underwear. He was wearing a colourful and childish disposable. My fingertips traced the outline of his semi-hard cock under the soft padding as I took in this surprising, yet incredibly horny sight. His eyes were closed so he hadn't noticed my reaction and as I slowly stroked him through the slinky material, he moaned, not unpleasantly in my ear. Soon he was rock hard, and I was bursting out of my jeans. So, with one quick movement I undid my top button and, not surprisingly, my rampant dick began to push past the zip. I continued to caress his cock and felt it pulsate, trapped beneath the soft layers of fabric. I stood up and my jeans fell to the floor and at the same time my foreign blond visitor dropped to his knees in front of my excited dick hidden behind its Calvin Klein prison and began to pay it some attention. His hands went behind me as he pulled my groin closer to his face - a hand on each of my cotton clad cheeks as his mouth went to my stomach where he licked and nibbled at the hairs between my naval and cock. His teeth latched on to my brief’s waistband and he pulled it away from my stomach with the not unsurprising effect that my cock sprung up to attention. He released the elastic and it snapped against my dick leaving the silky helmet exposed peaking and leaking over the top. He licked, nibbled and sucked at it driving me wild and continued, in a most amazing way, to find new sensations as he travelled down to my balls. Eventually he pulled my briefs completely down and took the whole length into his mouth, sucking and licking like it was the last one on earth. In no time at all I was coming down my beautiful angelic friend’s throat. He sucked for a while longer with his eyes closed and a little drop of my spunk found its way from the corner of his mouth and ran down his chin. Soon he gave a slight sigh and I realised he had come himself without touching his cock. The slightly bulging soft fabric sported a damp patch that was growing whilst I watched. My new friend sat on the floor looking completely worn out with his nappy now turning yellow as the material soaked up a stream of pee. We rested for a few minutes so that we could both get our breath back. He shrugged off his jeans then slowly peeled off his t-shirt and stood in his sodden disposable, his lithe body was stunning, whilst his blond hair just drooped into his eyes. He looked ravishing, even that sexy stained nappy gave him a vulnerable yet horny and desirable look. I immediately thought of a fallen angel who'd suddenly found pleasure in something forbidden. I asked him about his liking for nappies but he just smiled and said: "I don't know why I like them... I just do. I always thought my baby sister looked great in hers and I've liked the feel ever since I first tried a pair on when I was ten.” He looked to see if there was any reaction from me, there wasn’t, my look was one of complete appreciation. His English was good but that Scandinavian accent made it perfect. “Of course I couldn’t wear my little sister’s but I did find some at a cousin’s house. He was incontinent and I wanted to try them and he let me and... well... just loved them from then on. Do you like?" Both our dicks answered that question and were already hard as we lay together on the bed, gently kissing and rubbing our crotches together. The feel of his body rubbing against mine was just fantastic, our cocks fencing each other, his behind bloated padding, mine behind spunky cotton briefs. However, that meeting has led me to more than a passing interest in disposables and nappies of all kinds. His pure sexiness, the gentle unassuming innocence and of course that horny piece of expanded perfection made him indelibly printed on my mind. It was that used sogginess, the slight droop and the fullness that just made him not quite perfect. Although we only had one night together, I’ll never forget that exotic fallen angel who made such an impact on my life and guided me to further padded interests. #####

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. #####

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 #

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)

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”. ####

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

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

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

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

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