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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.

Awakenings: Day 1: Part 1. The sun's rays began to illuminate the dorm room through a gap in the curtains as it began to rise over the city. In the corner underneath by the wardrobe is a small sides workstation pink in colour scattered with figures, notes, pens and letters. In the middle of it is a laptop. The sunlight reflecting off of the screen. In bed opposite the desk lay Rachel a 19 year old girl, she has dark brown hair which looks like it has seen better days after a rough night's sleep. Her blankets are all messed up from her tossing and turning in the night. Revealing her purple pyjama top. Rachel starts to stir from her sleep moaning as she gets up. She walks into the ensuite and turns on the shower before looking at herself in the mirror. "Girl why do you always look like you have gone ten rounds with crocodile when you wake up?" Rachel grabs the bottom of her pyjama top and pulls it up over her head. Revealing her smallish size breasts. She looks down at her full nappy from the night and begins to pull the tapes off before then throwing it in the bin. Rachel steps into the spray and mist of the hot water raining down from the shower tilting her neck back as the water bounces off her leaving beads just running down her skin. She grabs a sponge and showergel and starts getting to work on her upper body massaging the gel into her skin with the sponge. As she is doing this a stream of urine starts flowing out of her vagina and down her smooth legs and splashing on the floor of the shower. Rachel continues to wash her body moving onto her arms fully aware of the sensation below, knowing she is peeing herself in a shower and completely unable to stop herself even if she wanted to after the choice she made. As she finishes peeing she moves down to her legs and lower body with the sponge. Once she washed her hair Rachel exits the shower and turns it off. She grabs a towel to dry off body once she is done she wraps it around her head she grabs a second towel and ties it around her waist to act as a temporary nappy while she dries her hair. Rachel walks out of the ensuite and grabs her brush and dryer before sitting on the bed. She throws the towel off and starts brushing her long damp mop of hair. While brushing her hair mind wanders off towards thoughts of some of the meetings she will be having over the course of the next few days as she gets ready to start her first year at university studying art. Rachel is equal parts nervous and excited for what the year will hold the opportunities presented through the course, meeting new friends. Once Rachel finished drying her hair she got up walking over to her wardrobe and opened it. Inside were all her clothes and all of her nappies. She throws a top and a short skirt over onto her bed before rummaging through her nappies looking for today's selection. She pulled out a couple of her rearz nappies a pink one with princesses and ponies on it and a white and blue one with monsters on it. She also picked out a standard medical looking one she bought the other day, ready for a meeting she was gonna have and one my diaper colour a white nappy with pink and blue colours just in case she needed a spare. She put the rearz Princess on the bed ready to be put on and the others aside to go into her nappy bag. Rachel grabs the bottle of baby powder from the floor and unfolds her nappy. She places herself on it and removes her makeshift one. She the. Powders her nappy area before taking her time to pull the nappy through her legs and taping it in place. Now secure in a nappy she grabs her clothes and throws them on making sure the nappy is hidden underneath. Rachel proceeds to grab all her things and shove them into the relevant part of her bag university stuff and phone and money in the front nappies and changing supplies in the back of the bag. Once her bag is zipped up she grabs it and her keys and heads out for the first day at university. end of part one: yes it's short that's down to my issues with dyslexia and dyspraxia. This is the first part of an arch that will last 5-6 parts all about Rachel's first day at university.

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. ********

I hope this is the right section to do this in. Ok so I have urges

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

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. #####

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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