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TYME is on your side I’m standing at my bedroom window looking out at the view. Since we came here eight weeks ago I have to admit this place is completely different from our old apartment. Before my bedroom view overlooked a small communal garden (dumping ground) and into the back of a row of other apartments hardly fifty yards away. We lived on the third floor, in a five story block less than half a mile from the town centre. The neighbourhood was a bit on the rough side but I didn’t mind because that’s where I’d grown up and where all my friends are... were. The school was less than a ten minute walk away and I was a happy and popular kid in class. However, a few weeks ago both my parents got new jobs. I didn’t know they’d been looking for anything different so it came as a bit of a surprise when they announced one morning that in the school’s summer break, we’d be moving to a new location – miles and miles away I’d come to the end of 6th Grade and the following term, now I’m almost twelve (well in six months), I’d be moving up. I was looking forward to going with all my mates and because of that the thought of a new school wasn’t so scary. The announcement of the move had me worried and I cried that I didn’t want to leave, even having a hissy-fit, demanding that I be left with the neighbours so I could stay with all my buddies. Both my parents tried to soothe my stress and said that this was a terrific opportunity that they couldn’t afford to let pass, and it was a relatively new town in a wonderful part of the country. Everything, they emphasised, was geared for young families and we’d have a better house and a lot better standard of living. None of that meant anything to me if I wasn’t going to be with my friends. The start of the summer break was fantastic but at the back of my mind was the fact that we’d soon be moving and I’d probably never see these guys from the neighbourhood again. So when not out with them I was at home complaining about the up-coming move. I was adamant I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t know that it was a done deal and no amount of my protestations or grumpiness was going to alter the fact... we would be moving. We moved and that was six weeks ago. # Now, as I looked out from my bedroom over the fields and off into the countryside I had to admit that dad was correct - this part of the country is beautiful. Everything’s new and exciting, not least because I got my own bedroom and it was at least twice as large as my old one. Back at the old apartment I shared with my three year old brother Josh, which wasn’t ideal, what with there being such an age gap. He was still being potty trained so there was a constant odour of pee about the place, and the piles of diapers did nothing to make me feel in the least bit like a boy who was about to move up a level at school. Oh how things change in such a short time. As I look out of my window at this fine early morning it’s me standing wearing a wet diaper with plastic pants trying their best to hold it all up. I’m eleven and a half years old and surprisingly started waking up soaked on the first morning we arrived here and I don’t know why. I have to admit I was still not in the best mood and resented being taken away from all that I knew to somewhere strange and unknown. I didn’t like it and was still pouting even after I’d been shown my new room. In fact, compared to our old apartment the new house was unbelievable; all the latest mod-cons. Smart devices everywhere; you could command ‘Mimi’ do this that or the other; to turn lights on and off, play music or answer questions by simply asking. The house was large and every room spacious, it had a garden, as did all the houses on our street, that went back about thirty feet, which in turn led onto fields and had countryside in the distance. It was all so perfect but of course I was upset so stomped around behaving badly and generally being nasty to everyone about everything. I was completely disrespectful to my parents and poor little Joshy didn’t know why I wouldn’t play with him. I was getting on everyone’s nerves, which in truth was what I wanted in the hope they’d send me back to my buddies. However, when I woke up wet after that first night I was somewhat shocked and found it difficult to explain myself. Mom and dad deliberated on it and decided it was a mixture of nerves, anxiety, hormones and upset but that I should be over it in a matter of days. However, mom’s initial thought, I was just being difficult and trying to prove a point, made her attitude towards me harden. After the second and third night of it happening she insisted, despite my absolute refusal, I wear a diaper to sleep in from then on. “Until you’re over this little bit of trauma,” was the way she interpreted it but of course I made a big fuss about being treated like Josh. She was unsympathetic to my argument. “If you wet like Josh then you’ll be treated like Josh” was her assessment of the situation. She was taking no temper tantrum or dispute with what she’d decided and dad wasn’t a reliable ally as he’d once been. So, like my baby brother, I was made to wear a diaper at night. It didn’t sit well with me but at least it kept the laundry down to a minimum. I suppose mom must have spoken into ‘Mimi’ and ordered extra supplies of diapers for Josh and me because some arrived that evening right on cue for bedtime. Of course I made life as awkward as possible but mom wasn’t having it and said that if I didn’t wear one she’d just leave my smelly pee-soaked bed and I could lie in that for ever as far as she was concerned. Dad on the other-hand simply said if I didn’t wear one he’d spank my hide, something he’d never threatened before. He got my attention and that night mom fitted me, like she did Josh, into a soft fabric diaper and plastic pants. It was certainly the grumpiest bed time I’d ever had but my resentment was softened slightly by the fact that the diaper was incredibly soft... that was... to begin with. I also think there was a bit of punishment in there because they were both getting more than a little annoyed with my insolence and not giving the new place a chance. Unfortunately, with the threat of a spanking, which I’d never had in my life, ‘I’ decided to wear one at night... so that was another thing to hate this place about. That first night, despite the initial softness, I tossed and turned and wondered how Josh could sleep wearing such a mass around his little willy because I was as fidgety as hell. Of course it didn’t help that I woke up soaked, so mom had been correct in making sure I was well wrapped up for the night. However, it was becoming a regular occurrence and I was hoping to hide the fact from mom by getting to the bathroom first and changing before she could check. Unfortunately, she caught me sneaking there with wet PJs and carrying a sopping wet diaper so now insists that she sees me every morning to be inspected. I didn’t know why at that time she thought that was so important but was quite definite about it. I argued, blamed everyone but myself and absolutely refused to wear one in future but of course that amounted to nothing because when it came to night time she was there supervising making sure I did. However, that’s not why each morning I have to wait for mom to come and check my soggy diaper. So, that’s where you’ll find me most mornings, soaked and looking out of the window... waiting. # Nonetheless, despite my ‘troubles’ both parents were excited by all these new opportunities, “opportunities” they said would not be available back home. Everything was “better and brighter” here and even Josh loved that he had his own room and space to play outside. He soon had friends and our parents had loads of colleagues from work who they socialised with. They’d bring their kids over and although Josh settled in straight away, I hated these new people and either took myself off to my room or simply made life for our visitors uncomfortable. “Stop being so rude and join in.” Was my parent’s non-stop criticism about my behaviour. As I hadn’t had a choice I begrudged everything. Dad made it clear that he and mom weren’t going to put up with my dissent much longer and I’d just have to try and fit in - there was no going back because there was nothing to go back to. We had neighbours with kids my age but I hated that, despite them all being friendly enough, they weren’t Boogy, Sam, Tess, Adele, Smiffy, Amin... or indeed any of my friends from back home who I grew up with. Because everything was controlled by the smart hub, I couldn’t access any of the video games I liked to play. As there was a ‘TYME classification’ age restriction on most of those, the hub recognised my voice and limited access until an adult requested them, which they never did. Phone calls went through the hub and I wasn’t allowed to make calls again without adult supervision. So I just mooched around getting angrier and angrier. Mom and dad didn’t like what I was doing but thought I’d eventually come round and accept it all. I had other ideas... I’d simply hitch-hike home if I had to. # The town is called TYME, "TYME - is on your side" is the slogan as you entered the outskirts and which mom and dad thought set just the right tone for place. In fact, both had managed to find incredibly well-paid jobs at a new facility outside of town and if I was being honest the entire place seemed a huge step up from where we had lived and, if I hadn’t been so resentful, might have enjoyed being here. Joshy was in a huge pre-school play group every day, which a he loved. All the kids dressed in blue shorts and yellow and white t-shirts with a little emblem on the breast pocket indicating which year they were in. He went to that group every day and looked sweet and happy when they were all together. I envied Josh being able to adapt so easily but I was angry (and regarded myself as grown up) so had opinions of my own and being here wasn’t one of them. It had never even been discussed - I’d fume to myself at the injustice of it all. Meanwhile, I had yet to start at a new school, which I was dreading. The Academy, as it was called, was a huge structure that also incorporated the pre-school so all ages of kids from our section of town were together but in different parts of this enormous building. The playing fields stretched over several acres to encompass athletics and all the ball sports. Yes, the place was immense and “well-tended”, as mom enthused. Both her and dad loved how organised everything was and were passionate about their new jobs which, according to mom, were a damn sight better than anything back in our home town. I had no idea what it was they did when they got to work by 9am, but school was scheduled to start at 8.30am and finished at 4pm to fit in with company shifts. Mom was delighted that the shifts were geared so that if needed, a parent was always available to look after a young child. In fact, although the entire town was arranged to suit the needs of the company they saw that it was advantageous to look after its workforce. Family care was ‘top priority’ and well catered for with a calendar of regular fun social gatherings. As new-comers we were encouraged to meet our neighbours and make friends with a whole bunch of different folk. Josh and I were dragged along to these ‘get to know’ gatherings where it seemed everyone was keen to chat and be as amiable as possible. All the kids were well-dressed and lacked attitude, something that just wouldn’t have been acceptable at home, but were friendly enough. I hated it and kept myself away from any offer of friendship... I just didn’t want to know or get involved. I already had friends I didn’t need this lot. # Everything was in company colours - white, blue and yellow, and, as they built this town (or so I assumed) they got a say in whatever happened here. Even the police cars and emergency service vehicles were white, blue and yellow. All uniforms and official workwear was a combination of these colours. You’d find it difficult to find any other colours if you worked for the town or the company. Even the school uniform had the same colour code and again, that little emblem on the breast pocket indicated which class you were in. Most things were arranged; mom didn’t even need to wash Josh’s diapers because there was a collection service that did all that. It was the same for any family with toddlers and babies. The company was ‘green’ so diapers were made from recyclable fabrics and collected, washed and replaced weekly. Even Josh’s were in company colours, as were the plastic pants that accompanied them. Actually, now I’m wetting most nights mine come the same way but I’ve never discussed it with either parent it’s not something an eleven year old want to discuss with anyone. I explained to myself that of course I was having soggy nights because I’d been abducted from friends and neighbours I’d grown up with and knew. This was a terrible, stressful imposition so no wonder my body reacted in such a way. So, this wetness was entirely my parent’s fault and nothing to do with me... of that I was certain. Well, I say everything but the truth is, I hated waking up wet. I saw it as something else, like the move, I had no control over and that made me angry. Yet, despite my refusal to wear a diaper, I did so and could see the benefits of wearing one at night. I thought in some way at least this was something I could control, so accepted its use. Also that threat of a spanking if I didn’t made me a bit more amenable to that particular suggestion. Although my parents had never spanked me, I had noticed that their attitude towards my attitude had hardened a little so wasn’t sure if they would actually follow through with any threat. I think they thought I was coming round but I wasn’t, it was just easier and to my advantage to go along with night time diapers. I still didn’t mix and made it well known I wasn’t happy about being in this place. It was strange because each evening one of my parents had to fill in a household health report on the computer. I was told a smart hub (which ran throughout the entire house) was in everyone’s home and was explained as a way that the company could make sure shops were well stocked with what was needed. Power, water, food... everything all came under the scope of the smart monitoring gizmos everywhere. There was a small blue round hub in every room via which ‘Mimi’ would do your bidding. The powers that be said that the health and welfare of its citizens was of paramount importance so nothing, not even the slightest cough, should be left out of the daily statement. Mom said it was terrific because it took away any worries and if you needed help a touch on the computer screen and there was always someone on the other end to offer advice or solutions. # Unfortunately, my wetting continued right up to the first day of the new term and mum insisted that I wear a diaper under my uniform to make sure all went well. My uniform! Now that was a surprise as well as I only saw it on that first morning of school. At my old school it had been just normal clothes. Here it was dark blue shorts, yellow and blue polo shirt with matching blue, white and yellow striped blazer. I looked exactly like a larger version of those pre-schoolers. There was hardly any difference in what Josh and I wore, which I found insulting to my age. I complained about the shorts but mom said that all boys up to becoming teenagers wore them to school. Then, if grades were good, you got more and more independence and fewer restrictions. To me it sounded more like prison but I couldn’t get mom or dad to see that. They thought I was being silly and over dramatic and accused me of trying to make this ‘paradise’ into some kind of living hell. I hated having to wear shorts to school, even though all the others in my year wore them, it was just another thing that left me indignant. Although I’d had a couple of weeks now wearing a diaper at night, and the occasional wet day (which I didn’t tell anyone about though suspected mom had sussed), I didn’t want to wear one on that initial school day, it would have set a bad example should anyone find out. However, my no-nonsense mother put me in one first thing. She’d stripped me out of my soaked night diaper, cleaned me up and, without asking, simply put me in a new one. Needless to say I was furious but she gave me one of her looks that she wouldn’t put up with any disagreement, so that had the remarkable effect of keeping me silent. With only a few minutes to go before we had to leave I sneakily nipped back to the bathroom removed the damn thing and defiantly settled into a pair of white cotton briefs for the day instead. Getting ready for that first day I wasn’t feeling too confident because up until then I hadn’t made any new friends... so wearing briefs was a little confidence booster. There were plenty of kids around, all dressed the same, but I wasn’t interested, they weren’t MY friends and anyway, I was still hoping they’d get fed up with me and we’d all return home. Despite our neighbours on one side having kids my age, and on the other they had a couple of babies and a toddler like Joshy, I’d tried to avoid them as much as possible. As their parents also worked for the company, we all set off at the same time to school so it was a sea of blue and yellow walking down the street or disembarking from the school bus. Friends huddled in groups laughing or chatting but all seemed keen to be heading for a new term. There was a general aura of happiness about TYME, even the school kids appeared pleased to start a new term. I on the other hand, was nervous and alone and that made me feel really self-conscious. What I didn’t know was that my personal id was embedded in the school logo on my shirt pocket. With a sweep of a handheld scanner it made sure you were in the correct group but also flagged up any concerns anyone might have. So, on the first day of school the scan, despite the age group I was in, indicated to the teacher that I should be wearing protection as I was ‘incontinent’. I couldn’t believe that mom had let the powers that be know I wet... that was a breach of my privacy. The teacher with the scanner seemed a little perplexed and wondered first of all if I was in the correct class (had they got Josh and James mixed up somehow?) but then, after a few moments chat and deliberation with an unknown contact at the other end of the screen, in front of a line of girls and boys my own age, I was checked if I was wearing suitable protection. On finding I had briefs and not the required diaper I was told to report to the school nurse for ‘redressing’. I was so embarrassed and seething at such facts being made available to any person I upped and went home without going anywhere near the nurse’s office. I didn’t know that everyone’s medical and social records were stored and evaluated daily so any problems could be nipped in the bud. To me it was just another intrusion into my life, which I didn’t have back home. # My first day at school and my first bunking off... It was quite a walk but of course mom and dad had gone to work by the time I arrived at the house, Josh was at pre-school so I needed to get in. However, the door was locked and I didn’t have a key and my badge didn’t allow access. Thankfully, the weather was fine so I just went for a stroll through the woods expecting to be out and about in the fresh air for the rest of the day until 4:00pm, when I knew I’d be able to access the house. I walked out of our garden and into the back field intent on reaching the wooded area in the distance. It was whilst on this walk I hoped to formulate a plan to get away from this awful place and make my way back to a proper town... my home town. I knew it was going to be difficult. It had been quite a long drive to get here in the first place and I remember (as I was half asleep for most of the journey) that we turned off the main highway and drove for ages before we reached this place. The journey was up hills and down dales, through huge wooded areas and farming land before we got to a junction that pointed access to the town. TYME itself seemed quite a distance from any other civilization but, when we arrived, the bustling centre as far as I could see was new and just as busy as any other place I’d been to. Also, another surprise was that we had a coastline and the town, built on a hill, sloped down to beaches, harbour and small marina. As I thought about all this my mind was busy trying to calculate the distance I’d have to hitch-hike to even get to a main road. I came to the conclusion that perhaps a boat might be a possible solution except for one thing; I couldn’t sail or know which direction to go in. I’d have to try and find a map. Whilst all this was swirling around in my head I hadn’t noticed I was being followed by a man in a blue and yellow uniform (of course) on a quad-bike. “And where exactly are you going?” He demanded once I noticed him. “Just a walk around, I’m new here so just checking things out.” I replied but not very confidently. “Really,” He dismounted from his transport, “Well let me just check who I have here and where you should be.” He produced a scanner with a screen and held it over the logo on my shirt. “Mmm,” he read, “James Llewelyn, son of Anthony and Marion Llewelyn and, according to this, you should be in a history class back in school.” I was shocked he knew so much about me but of course, the scan this morning had told the teacher other stuff I didn’t want anyone else to know. Did this (I looked at his badge) Rural Deputy now have all that info on his device? “So, you shouldn’t be out here on your own without supervision but mainly... you should be in school. Your parents will be in trouble for this.” “Big deal,” I thought but didn’t say anything. “Come on, hop on I’ll give you a lift back.” “No, it’s OK, I’ll find my own way back thanks... I made it this far.” He looked at me as if he wasn’t used to anyone disagreeing with his directive. “I don’t think so James,” His tone was even but only just, “my job is to make sure you return to where you’re supposed to be... so, on you get.” He indicated the seat in front of him. “No, fuck off and leave me alone. I didn’t ask for you to be here and I don’t want to go anywhere with you... I don’t even know who you are and” I acted all stupidly coy, “mom says I shouldn’t accept lifts from strangers.” This showed a great deal of just how angry I was because I wouldn’t have had the nerve to say all this to either my parents or anyone, certainly a lawman, back home. “This isn’t a request sonny... on the bike NOW.” I took off into the woods as fast as I could. “This isn’t a game.” I heard him shout as he gunned the quad up but I’d left the track and was trying not to get entangled in the undergrowth. I battled through thick foliage, brambles and stinging nettles, which clawed at my bare legs leaving painful scratches and annoying welts. Unfortunately, he knew this area better than me and was waiting when I eventually broke ground and ended up in a little clearing. “That’s enough fun and games James... your parents have given me authorization to spank you if you don’t do exactly as I say immediately.” He was waving around his scanner and I had no doubt that it contained just such permission. # I hated the fact that I’d been foiled but the drive back, with me perched in front of him on the bike, was in silence. I felt like a recaptured prisoner of war I’d seen on TV. He drove up to my front door and there was my father looking exceptionally angry. “He should be in school,” the Deputy told dad as he set me down. “Make sure he’s there tomorrow sir, there will be a ‘clarification’ issued from Central Office.” “Yes, thank you officer, I’ll see to it and sorry for any inconvenience.” He held the door open for me to enter the house. Once the door was closed, in a surprisingly quick move, my shorts came down as did my briefs and he put me over his knee and gave me a thorough spanking. It was something I’d never experienced before and I didn’t like it one bit... as I screamed the place down. I’d never seen dad so angry or experienced anything so painful, the scratches on my legs from the brambles were now forgotten as I tried to be brave. I failed. Dad was letting my bare bottom know in no uncertain terms that I’d got things very wrong indeed. Despite begging for forgiveness and screaming I was sorry, he made sure I was in no doubt that my attitude would be curtailed. I couldn’t hold back the tears and for a moment, when there was a ‘ping’ on the hub screen dad stopped and took a look at what was written. “You swore at the Deputy?” He was even more incensed at my most recent display and my bottom felt the full force of his fury. Eventually he finished and I was left a sobbing wreck but made to stand in the corner, with my hands on my head, whilst he finished reading the message on screen. My bum was extremely red and very painful and I was still snivelling when he returned. He turned me round and I noticed that I’d wet down the front of his trousers whilst being spanked I was sure he was going to spank me again so cringed as he pulled me forward. “Well James it looks like you’ve made us the first family ever to get a warning. Your behaviour will not be tolerated by anyone...” “I just want to go back home.” I whined through the pain. “Well son, that’s not an option as we’ve made clear on every occasion you’ve brought it up. This place is clean, well run and safe. There are no gangs here, no crime from what we can see and if you give it a chance you’ll find it beneficial as you grow up.” He could see I didn’t want to hear any of this... I wanted my friends and thought it a horrible thing for a parent to do... take me away from all that I knew. “I’m sorry if you think we’ve made the wrong decision but it’s you that’s wrong. Mom, Josh and I all love this place and if you weren’t so destructive I think you’d find that it offered you a whole new set of friends...” “I just want to go home...” I pleaded. “You are home son and the sooner you realise that fact, and that nothing is going to change unless you do, you are going to have a very miserable life. The bottom line is you’ll only have yourself to blame.” Dad hugged me and told me he didn’t like to discipline me like he just had BUT, if that was the only way to get through then that’d be what would be on offer in future. He guided me upstairs and took me into the bathroom where I’d left the discarded diaper from this morning. He laid me out on the changing table and, having spread lotion and powder all over my red bum and willy, attended to the scratches on my legs and then fixed the diaper back where it started though added a pair of thick white plastic pants. “I think we need to keep you safe... and son... you’ll be wearing a diaper all the time from now on.” I was still worried about possibly getting another spanking at some point so missed the main thrust of what he’d just said. Thankfully, the fluffy thick material was kind and soft on my inflamed bottom. He lifted me from the changing area and stood me up. I felt too weak to do much so he took my hand and guided me, waddling slightly and slowly, down stairs and sat me on the sofa. It was too painful, so I crawled onto the floor. “Mimi, TV please, Channel 7.” Dad commanded and the screen burst into life with a cartoon. I was too scared to say anything as dad went off to do whatever it is grown-ups do when they’re angry. I saw him run his hands through his hair as he read the hub screen. He looked across at me and shook his head. I hated to think what the ‘warning’ the deputy had threatened actually said. I hated just how sore my bum was and how easy it had been for dad to punish me so hard. Just another thing that happened here that didn’t happen back in my home town. I hated this place even more. # tbc #

Mind-bender He couldn’t believe it. After all these years, Dr Stewart Logan BSc (Hons), D.Hyp, DipThyp, PNLP, MHS (Acc) had Jimmy Preston, the guy who bullied him at school, as a patient on his couch. It may have been almost twenty years ago but Dr Logan remembered the way Jimmy and his bullying cronies had gone out of their way to embarrass, torment and physically assault the class nerd (him) for over four long years. It was obvious that Jimmy didn’t recognise the doctor he was about to unload many of his secrets to, if he had, he may well have had second thoughts. As it turned out… well… from a troubled and disturbed Jimmy Preston, a new Jimmy Preston was about to be born. # Jimmy was referred to the practice because he had ‘anger’ issues. The court had ruled as part of his sentence for Domestic Violence that he had to undergo a series of Anger Management classes, during which, he would be assessed by the court’s psychologist Dr Stewart Logan and on whose opinion his fate would rest. Jimmy’s marriage was over, his wife was glad to get away from his violent and controlling ways, but in her summing up, the judge had made it clear that if there wasn’t a change in his behaviour after this psychological assessment… then a custodial sentence would result. In their first few sessions 34 year-old Jimmy was full of resentment and reluctant to talk. However, as the doctor gained his confidence; gently probing, adding easy banter, gaining trust, his patient opened up. Logan quickly realised that despite his patient being very good-looking and in perfect condition, the man was a seething mess of unresolved anger, petty hatred and simmering, unfounded jealousy that needed to be put in check. # The patient’s neurosis and paranoia may have sprung from his upbringing but he’d done little to curtail any of these damning traits. In fact, he’d revelled in the power he could wield over others, the total control he could exude over those he thought were there simply to be used. He resented the judge trying to change him but had opted for what he saw as the easy option, letting a sympathetic (pathetic) doctor try to cure all his ills. He even laughed to himself when the judge offered this option and thought how stupid and gullible the law was at times to try and change someone like him. However, several sessions with the doctor had been quite a revelation to Jimmy. He’d liked to talk (and at times brag) about the things he’d done. However, despite him feeling he was in control, slowly, bit by bit, drip by drip, the clever Doctor Logan had crept, unnoticed, into the control freaks head and made camp there. The talk became easy and although Jimmy thought his defences were impenetrable, Doctor Logan had detected a weakness he knew he could exploit. Once ensconced in his patient’s head the doctor decided he’d use deep hypnosis in the hope of reaching to the root of those ‘troubles’. # Unaware he was even being put in a trance the doctor was surprised just how easily Jimmy went under and how simple it was to get him to react to any suggestion. Realising this empowerment the highly educated, hugely qualified, much in demand psychologist suddenly found his own issues rising to the surface. Anger that had been churning away in Jimmy all these years had transferred to the man who was charged with making him well. Retribution was a word that sprang into the doctor’s mind and Mr Jimmy Preston was going to feel the full force of that payback. This was not going to be the ‘stage hypnotist’ style of embarrassment; being a chicken or growling like a dog, the hunky Mr Preston was going to feel the intensity of that resentment. Stewart knew his desire for revenge could possibly lead to complications but he was determined to at least try. He wouldn’t have been the first psychologist to use his skill to get what he wanted from a patient. To train an easily receptive brain to do something different from the norm and become a vassal to the whims of the doctor. It was completely against any reasonable code of conduct but that was not going to be any kind of deterrent. Even after the many people he’d helped and given solace to the good doctor could not bring himself to do the same for Jimmy Preston. The scars ran deeper than he realised, so conceived a strategy that would reduce his patient to the same level he’d been when the bullying started. He started his mind manipulation by suggesting that every time Jimmy got angry, he pissed himself. ‘Yes’, the doctor thought, as he remembered the number of times he was left wearing wet pants after the bullies had set about him, ‘that was a very good place to start’. As a schoolboy he had returned home soaked on many occasions but an unsympathetic father and mother had dismissed his claims of bullying and solved their child’s ‘problem’ by making him wear a nappy to school. Of course, once the bullies found out, his life was made even more intolerable. # That was another level that added to his inability to forgive his patient. The young Stewart hated his uncaring and unsympathetic parents, both high-flyers who were incapable of dealing with a lonely and timid boy. As if it was his fault, they seemed to resent the child they’d brought into the world and scorned his love and need for any kind of compassion. It was as if the bullies and his parents conspired to make his life hell. They never took his claims seriously so attributed his wet pants and occasional soggy nights as ‘attention seeking’ - their solution; to return him to nappies until he was over it. But, with all the aggravation at school, he was a long time wearing such padding. # The doctor had issues and now they were swamping his head he was going to do what he had to do to seek some kind of satisfaction for a childhood full of woe. He could take his time because the number of sessions Jimmy had to attend was at his discretion. Whilst his patient was relaxed, deeply under and easily suggestible he set about his task; delving deep into his subconscious, tearfully prising out those long withheld triggers from a psychotic childhood. The doctor told him what a worthless, little baby he was, how everybody hated him and that he was in for a beating later on. It was a terrifying tirade, if you were a small child, and one that he himself had been dealt by the very man now crying and panic-stricken in front of him. As the tears streamed down his face Jimmy couldn’t control his bladder and a wet patch blossomed down the front of his trousers. The doctor felt triumphant. He would leave that piece of auto-suggestion in Jimmy’s brain so that any time that he got angry he’d revert to being a scared little kid. It was with some self-satisfaction that he noticed at later sessions, the hard man with anger issues would arrive wearing what appeared to be secure thick padding under his trousers. The soft rustling sound as he lay out on the psychiatrists couch was confirmed by the satisfying soft bulge that now occupied the front of his trousers. Jimmy didn’t know why he had suddenly started wetting himself. ‘Stress’ is what he put it down to, but wanted some control at least over these strange leaking problems he had developed, though far too embarrassed to mention to his psychiatrist. He had no idea why he was buying nappies, disposables and plastic pants but thought he’d come up with the idea of such protection all by himself. The one thing he was sure of was he didn’t want this particular fact permanently on file, so hid what he thought was secret. His doctor chuckled to himself at the man’s delusion. # Stewart was enjoying this feeling of domination so regressed Jimmy during each session making him act and talk like a frightened little boy. Despite his psychiatric training the feelings of revenge grew with each visit and although his patient left the couch acting relatively normally for a man of thirty-four, a nervous fear was now perched on his shoulder with each encounter with members of the public. More often than not, by the time he’d made it home his nappy would be soaked and he’d cry in frustration not knowing why he was unable to remain dry. He became anxious about everything, which led to even more sodden nappies. Throughout the many sessions not once did he bring up the subject of his reliance on protection with his psychiatrist. To begin with he was reticent to mention it but then it simply became part of who he was. He had no idea that his old foe was now calling the shots and making him dependent on such fluffy material keeping him relatively secure. With each session the doctor made the fear more intense but then he remembered that the only person at school who had tried to help him was his old geography teacher, Mr Hudson. When he had confronted the bullies, and Jimmy in particular, the teacher had also been threatened, had vile names spat at him and was accused of being a ‘fucking gay twat’ by this evil bunch of boys. The fact that the 62 year-old was gay made the inference hit a nerve that he never quite recovered from. The boys then took great delight in daily accusations and knife twisting into an honourable but defenceless old man. # After several weeks Dr Stewart Logan finished his final sessions by deeply regressing Jimmy and implanting the thoughts that he only sexually desired older men - that he would seek them out, offer himself and get upset if he was rejected. This rejection also manifested itself with a flooded nappy and babyish tears. Even though his wife may not want anything more to do with him, in future, he would want nothing more than to submit his taut, 34 year-old body for these elderly men’s pleasure and enjoyment. Unfortunately, Mr Hudson was long dead so couldn’t take up such an offer even if he’d wanted to, however, the doctor brought in a couple of his older, gay ex-patients to see the reaction. Jimmy submitted gladly to all demands and liked it even more when they spoke as if he was a small boy in need of encouragement. The control freak had been transformed into a polite, compliant, ready-to-please reformed character. The court was pleased at the clear bill of health on all anger issues that the doctor had provided and decided against the custodial sentence that had been hanging over the ex-violent criminal. The treatment was regarded as a success but nobody knew the real cost. Jimmy was no longer the angry young man he used to be but on a totally, mind-boggling different level, he was proving to be an emotional but dedicated addition to the gay community. The thick and ever present soaked nappy and protective plastic pants only adding to the athletic young man’s vulnerability, he was quite a hit with everyone. Jimmy quickly regressed to a thumb sucking little kid in a man’s body. He spent most of his time wearing just his protection, which became his trade mark look. He was never short of daddies keen to take a nappy-clad ‘youngster’ in hand and taught how to love and respect, occasionally via a spanking, all older men. Jimmy’s life is now one of service and one where he has no control over anything… especially his bladder. #####################################################

Because of the current tech problems I have re-laid the entire story in this chapter. You can still read the comments at the end but they probably won't make much sense. Samantha’s lesson Samantha was being her usual annoying self. Her parents didn’t know why their adorable little baby girl was growing up to be an obnoxious little fiend. She was seven years old but had the attitude of a grumpy teenager who always thought she was right. Her mommy and daddy were at their wits end as to what to do with her and yearned for the days when she was a happy little bundle of smiles, giggles and the only demands she made was for her paci. Now she demanded attention 24/7 and had the house in uproar if she didn’t get it. Her brother, four year-old Nathan, was more often than not left crying because of some act of nastiness that his darling older sister had visited on him. Nathan was a sweet, undemonstrative child, who, though worryingly still in diapers, was otherwise a normal little boy. Having said that, the normal ‘terrible twos’ that his parents remembered so well from when Sam was at that age, appeared to pass him by. Maybe this was down to the fact that they had his sister to contend with and she seemed to be forever in that part of her ‘terrible’ childhood development. Whenever Nathan got any sort of attention Samantha would start acting up, get into trouble, cause an argument or generally be disagreeable. Meanwhile, her little brother would sit there playing with his toys and perhaps wondering why he was being ignored (if a child of his age ever thought that way). The school was always sending messages and asking Sam’s parents in for meetings to ‘discuss’ her behaviour but everything that was tried to remedy the situation failed miserably. That was until her mother accidently came across something that appeared to work. * Samantha had been screaming at her brother. Ridiculing the poor boy because he was still wetting himself, not just at night but also during the day, and, because she had been potty trained since the age of two, told him how much of a baby he still was. After one particular nasty tirade and unforgivable incident where she rubbed his wet diaper in his face, which needless to say had upset Nathan tremendously, her mother decided on her own punishment. She spanked her daughter (much to Samantha’s surprise and something her mommy had never done before), removed her little panties and replaced them with the wet diaper with which she had just been tormenting her sobbing little brother. Sam was the one now crying, and not just because of the spanking, she hated the feel of the wet diaper that now hung between her legs. Her mother had made it pretty clear that if she even attempted to remove it that would produce an even more severe spanking. Samantha was smarting from the first smacking she’d ever received and was temporarily stunned into submission so wandered miserably around the house with her huge drooping diaper easily visible below her little dress. Her mother noticed that somehow this action had calmed her daughter down and, for a few hours at least, she saw Sam behaving herself and, although perhaps reluctantly, start playing with Nathan who was now sitting happily in his dry protection. * As the children played their mother couldn’t help but notice how cute her disruptive daughter looked now she was back in diapers. The way it so obviously hung below her dress when she bent over brought back memories of those happier days when she was a baby. The fact that she now appeared a lot more obedient and agreeable also hadn’t gone unnoticed although, she realised it could have been down to Sam’s reddened bottom. When it was time for Nathan’s afternoon nap she also put Samantha down at the same time and while there was a little argument, it was soon over and she complied. Popping a pacifier into her son’s mouth soon had him sucking wildly as he soothed himself to sleep whilst hugging one of his teddy bears. Without thinking she also slipped one between her daughter’s lips and was surprised to see her also sucking as she closed her eyes and slipped into her own little dream world. Soon both her children were out for the count and mommy was able to have time to assess what had happened. Neither she nor her husband had, with the arrival of Nathan, given Samantha any less attention so wondered if it was more than just sibling jealousy. However, her terrible behaviour at school showed she was quite the tyrant there and that pointed to something else in their daughter’s make up. Physical punishment had never been in the armoury these parents used. However, with this current action, Sam had learned that there were now very definite consequences to her conduct. Meanwhile, her mother decided she was going to at least try and see if she could develop on this more agreeable side to her daughter. * When her children woke up she first changed Nathan, who had inevitably wet himself as he slept, spending time making him giggle as she wiped him clean, powdered and re-diapered him. She covered that with a pair of clear plastic pants and then pulled on his favourite matching cartoon t-shirt and shorts. Happily dry and wide awake he rushed off into the sunlit garden to play on the swing. Sam had warily watched the entire procedure but didn’t dare get up before her mother had given permission. Despite a rather long, deep nap she wriggled uncomfortably in the sodden diaper and could still feel where her mother had spanked her and wasn’t keen on repeating the experience. Once the soggy mass had been removed she anticipated getting her panties back but mom then proceeded to do the same as she had with Nathan; wiping her daughter clean, spreading on some lotion and getting her well powdered. However, despite this obviously leading to the inevitable conclusion Sam was surprised when her mother produced another disposable. The protest was noisy but not unexpected. Nevertheless, her mother just lifted her legs up, swatted her bottom a couple of times, slid the diaper into place and fastened it tightly around her hips whilst her stunned daughter tried to hold back the tears. * Sam was in shock. Twice in one day she bore the marks of her mother’s hand but didn’t know what she could do about it. She wanted to object, she wanted to scream, she wanted to tear the house down but she didn’t want to feel that pain again so, despite every bit of her body wanting to reject what was happening, she grumpily put up with it. As her mommy slipped a pair of plastic pants over her diaper, but before she let her go and play outside, she was told in no uncertain terms that her behaviour was not acceptable and that until she stopped being an awful sister to her brother and started to conduct herself as a young lady, she would be kept in diapers. With that her mommy stood her up, pointed to the door and told her to go and play in the garden with Nathan. Reluctantly she moved towards the door, she didn’t really want to go outside where someone might see her wearing her padded protection, she was a big girl after all but her mother had made it clear that was where she should go and acting up just wasn’t an option. Her mother watched as she waddled out the door. There was no doubt about it, that little glimpse of bulky padding showing beneath her dress made her look adorable. In some way she hoped her daughter would do something unpleasant again, just so she had reason to keep her dressed like that for a little while longer. * Whilst her children were playing in the garden she went to the attic and found some of the baby clothes she used to dress them in. Waves of nostalgia swept through her mind and she wished she could have both her little babies back. She found a pair of pink frilly plastic pants that Samantha had worn as a toddler and remembered how sweet she had looked in her little dress with the frills showing over her bulky padding as she pushed her toy pram. Most of the clothing was Sam’s she had been the first and as such received brand new baby clothes. Little Nathan, when he came along, was saddled with her hand me downs but she remembered that he always looked so sweet no matter what he wore. As her fingers touched each piece of clothing another wonderful memory came to mind. She chuckled to herself at the thought of when he wore the same pink frilly plastic pants that had somehow gravitated to her hands, and how he had crawled around the house unperturbed by such a sweet but ‘girly’ item. He was always such an easy-going bundle of joy and her heart filled with the love she shared with almost every other mother over her children… but sighed to herself as she wondered what had gone wrong with Samantha. * Unexpectedly, the afternoon passed off without any trauma, both her children played together and appeared to be getting on, which was a first for a long time. Sam had even helped her brother build a tent using a blanket and the washing line as they’d played at camping in the wild outback. She howled like a wolf, made chirping and squawking noises as she pretended she was a host of wild animals and Nathan giggled his enjoyment and feigned being scared as he hid behind a rock (the upturned clothes basket). Their mother hadn’t seen such simple pleasure for quite some time and both her kids seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely. When her husband returned home from work he was astonished to see a very relaxed wife, and both his children playing happily in between watching snatches of TV. When he sat on the sofa after he’d eaten he was also surprised to find that this time not only Nathan came over for a cuddle but the normally fussy Samantha also wanted the same. Without making a scene she crept to the other side of her father and settled down as, with one in each arm, he hugged his children together. He looked over at his wife as if wanting an explanation but she just smiled and let him discover the secret for himself. It wasn’t long before he noticed that his daughter, like his son, was also padded and again looked to his wife for some sign as to why this was the case. She was smiling broadly at his incomprehension but he realised that whatever the reason it had appeared to work, for the time being at least, and for that he shrugged in gratitude. Perhaps, for the first time in many months, they would have an evening without a Sammy style outburst, or a neighbour complaining about their daughter’s behaviour. * At night both her children were put to bed at the same time. Both had protection, which once again Samantha tried to rebel against but her mother forcibly made her wear under the extreme threat of getting her daddy to administer a more severe punishment if she didn’t do as she was told. This warning had the desired effect and Sam quietly, if unhappily, submitted. She mumbled under her breath about not being a little baby and resented being put to bed at the same time as her silly little wet baby brother. So, she was still able to lash out even if this time it wasn’t as loud or as prolonged as normal and certainly she was more than a little unsure of the ground she stood on. Her mommy simply popped in her paci, pushed a teddy under her arm and told her to go to sleep. She added that she didn’t want to hear any sound and if there was it would mean ‘big trouble’. Leaving that warning to speak for itself she wished her sweet dreams, kissed her forehead and left to return downstairs to her perplexed husband. When his wife explained the way the day had panned out, and guiltily justified the spanking (which neither really agreed with), all became clear. Both seemed unhappy about what had happened but couldn’t deny the results. When she spoke about her idea to keep their seven year-old in diapers to see if the transformation was permanent, he had to concede that it was at least worth a try. The threat of a spanking as punishment was also going to be maintained but they hoped that the threat would be enough. He would support his wife in her decision but thought that Samantha was a very headstrong girl and expected some reaction to her new situation. His wife sighed as if she agreed that it was inevitable but, and she was adamant about this, she was going to pull out all the stops to try and curb her daughters aggressive activities. * Despite herself and her insistence that she didn’t need to go to bed so early Samantha had a very good night’s sleep and only woke up when her mother shook her to get ready for school. Through sleepy thoughts and wandering hands, which fell on her thick night time protection, she remembered what had happened the day before. The plastic pants felt strange as did the bulk between her legs but it slowly dawned on her that she had wet during the night. She hadn’t done such a thing since she was two and couldn’t understand why it had happened now. However, with mother standing over her and encouraging her to get up she shifted uneasily beneath the covers. Fearing a possible argument or tantrum her mother quickly pulled back the covers and pulled her out of bed and, like her daughter, was surprised to see the soaked diaper. Thankfully the plastic pants had kept everything else dry but even though her mother looked concerned the tears were welling up in Sam’s eyes. She was certain that she would get spanked for it and was crying because of the fear that had gripped her body, which unfortunately didn’t help as she peed a little more as she stood there weeping. Her mother took sympathy on her damp daughter and hugged her telling her it was OK and that sometimes little girls have accidents. Through her blubbing Sam tried to say that she wasn’t ‘little’ and not a baby and that it shouldn’t happen but all that came out was some childish whining and choked-back sobs. Soothing words eventually calmed the wet seven year-old as she was guided to the bathroom to change out of her soaked padding and to get ready for school. Her mother cleaned her up and went to retrieve her school uniform. Fearing that she would have to wear a diaper for school she started bawling even harder but calmed a little when she saw that her mother had returned with panties and not further protection. However, as her mother helped her get dressed she issued a further warning about her behaviour at school. If it didn’t get better, or any of the teachers had reason to complain, she would be wearing diapers to school every day for the rest of the term. Shocked at this terrible threat Samantha meekly put her uniform on and went downstairs for breakfast whilst her mother got Nathan ready for his day at nursery. * Once at school and away from her mother’s authority, the compliant Samantha quickly turned into the overbearing ‘Little Madame’ the teachers had come to dread. Creating uproar, making other children cry and generally being at the centre of mayhem soon led to her mother being called to once again come and collect her disruptive daughter. The drive home was a sullen affair, her mother angry beyond words and Sam insisting that she’d done nothing wrong and it was entirely the other kids fault for acting like babies. However, once through the door her mother quickly dragged her over her knee, pushed up her school skirt, pulled down her panties and smacked her bare bottom for the third time in two days. Whether Sam thought that it just wouldn’t happen again or not, her mother was not going to put up with such blatant disrespect for her, the teachers and other children. Never had Sam’s bottom been so thoroughly chastised and when her mother made her stand weeping in the corner and think about what she had done to deserve such a punishment her extremely red cheeks were testimony to the fury her mother had felt. Her tears eventually dried up and though her bottom stung she was getting bored standing in the corner waiting on the punishment to end. However, the angry words her mother had said about moving an inch were still ringing in her ears so thought better than to defy her so stayed put. Unfortunately for Sam her smarting bottom was just going to be the start of her ongoing punishment. **** Part 2 As she rubbed her sore bottom Samantha wanted some kind of revenge on her mother. Her mind was working on the things she planned on doing and, she thought conspiringly, ‘daddy had cuddled me yesterday so he will be on my side’. Alas for her she was unaware of what her parents had already agreed between them to try and tame their infuriatingly volatile daughter. The anger she felt at least took her mind of her glowing cheeks and she was in a seething world of her own when her mother re-entered the room armed with her daughter’s new clothing. Unable to contain her fury any longer she turned and screamed at her mother and ran off to her bedroom, where, for some reason, she thought she’d be safe. Her mother had always knocked before she entered and Sam naively believed that all she had to do was say “No” and her bedroom fortress could not be breached. Mommy would just go away and leave her to her own devices and eventually call her for dinner when it was ready. The trouble for Sammy was, her mother was not aware of any of this and simply stormed into her room, telling her in no uncertain terms that she needed to learn to behave. Sam was quick to avoid the grasping hands so jumped up and ran around the room, leaping on her bed whilst avoiding her chasing mother. Quick she may have been but her mother was clever and just waited for her to tire herself out as she shouted, screamed and threw things in her wake. Unfortunately for her, she tripped over one of the blankets she had thrown in her temper tantrum and, still kicking and screaming, was scooped up by her mother. Her red bottom was easily identifiable now she was wearing no panties and provided an obvious target for her mommy who delivered another couple of whacks to that already tender behind. Then, as a stunned and weeping Sam struggled to make sense of this departure from the norm, her mother stripped her out of the rest of her clothes, wrapped her in an ultra-thick fabric diaper, pinned it in place and told her that from now on any time she acted like a spoiled little baby, that was just how she would be treated. * Her mother picked her up, carried her downstairs and deposited her in the back garden and told her she was to play nicely in the sunshine with her brother until daddy got home. Wearing only a thick diaper it was Sam who now looked like the baby. Although Nathan was wearing his usual protection at least it wasn’t visible like Sam’s. He playfully told her that she looked like a big baby and was glad she’d come to play with him. It was amazing that, dressed like she was how her whole personality changed. She hadn’t reacted to her brother mentioning she looked like a baby and, once outside in the garden, she just got on and played the games that Nathan wanted. Her mother wondered if Sam was even aware of this dramatic change but she was intrigued as to why, as soon as she had her headstrong daughter diapered, all the anger, violence and screaming just stopped. As they played Nathan did something totally unexpected, he shrugged off his shorts and t-shirt and wore only his diaper like Sam. To him wearing such a thing was completely normal and often ran around the house dressed that way. His parents hadn’t tried to stop him, they enjoyed his diapered exuberance and he was such a contrast to Sam who would be the one often ridiculing him for being “such a baby”. Now, as mommy watched from the kitchen window, she couldn’t believe how sweet her two diapered children looked as they played some imaginative game that was producing gales of giggles. * Their father was somewhat bemused to sit at the dining table with both his children dressed only in diapers. He didn’t say anything because he knew there would be a good reason why his wife had taken such measures and was also relieved to sit through a meal with no squabbling. Indeed, Nathan was explaining what he had done at nursery and Sam quietly listened to all the conversations. Partly because she was worried that her mommy would tell daddy about her being naughty and perhaps… well… she didn’t want anything to happen as she planned on speaking to daddy later. After dinner Nathan sat in mommy’s lap watching TV whilst Sam cuddled up with her daddy. He gently patted her padded bottom as she squirmed around trying to be loving and endearing. She adopted a very childish voice, which was most definitely not what you expected from her, and whispered in his ear just how much she loved her daddy. Despite him realising she was planning something, it had been so long since she’d expressed any form of affection to anyone that he was quite taken aback. Once mommy took Nathan upstairs to bed she saw her opportunity to see if she could manipulate her father into agreeing she need not wear diapers ever again. Hugging daddy she said, in that false childish voice she hoped would sway him, that mommy was being cruel making her wear ‘baby clothes’ as she hadn’t done anything wrong. Her daddy snuggled his daughter tightly but replied that she must have done something as he was sure mommy wouldn’t have done it otherwise. Sam tried to force out some tears as she sniffed that it was all the teachers fault, they didn’t like her and made up lies about her to make her look bad. She looked at her father, desperately trying to hold back those crocodile tears, and told him that she could only rely on him not to be awful to her… protesting her innocence as she let a tear slide down her cheek. Her father was impressed with his daughter’s acting ability and was softened just a little by such a sterling performance. He tried to put Sammy’s mind at rest by saying that he was sure it would all be sorted out soon but in the meantime, and it would probably be only for a short while, the diaper stayed. “Besides,” he said grinning and trying to make his daughter feel better, “you look so cute… and your brother never seems to worry about wearing them.” She was still trying to gain her father’s confidence. “But daddy, he’s a baby and I’m a big girl… and big girls don’t wear diapers.” “They do if mommy tells them they do.” He stroked her head, “Naughty girls, no matter how big they are, wear diapers if their mommies think that’s what they need.” He held his daughter at arms-length and looked into her tear-streaked face. “Sometimes, mommies and daddies have to punish their naughty children… and you have been very naughty…” “No daddy I haven’t, it’s not my fault,” she blubbed. But her father noticed that even this protest was not as vocal or as strident as he would normally have heard from her. He hugged her close, patted her padded bottom in reassurance and told her not to worry, he was sure that her diaper days would soon be behind her. However, he couldn’t help thinking what a sweet nature she could have if she wanted. His wife’s insistence on her being diapered certainly had an amazing effect and, like her, thought that both their children looked delightful dressed in such a way. * Her mother called down that it was time for her bath and though disappointed at not having influenced her father she hung tightly onto his neck as he carried her upstairs. There was no denying the fact that he liked this affectionate version of his daughter. Carrying her cradled in his arms and stroking her padded bottom brought back his deep paternal thoughts. In that brief trip up the stairs he too remembered with a great degree of happiness just how Sam used to be when a baby. How soft she felt, how wonderful her childish hugs were, how sweetly she smelled of baby powder and lotion. His head was filled with all these thoughts when he put her down on her bed and began to unfasten her diaper. No sooner was the diaper removed than that hateful steely look reappeared in her eyes. She kicked out and kicked-off as her daddy tried to guide her to the bathroom. She saw her mother knelt down at the side of the bath washing and playing with Nathan who was giggling as bubbles were being piled on his head. Sam screamed that she wasn’t going to get in with her “smelly baby brother” and that she should have a bath to herself. However, her father picked her up and deposited her in the warm suds with her brother and a warning that he didn’t want to hear another word from her. This didn’t stop her complaining about everything. Nathan was in the way, the water was too hot (and too cold), the bubbles made her eyes sting, mummy rubbed too hard with the sponge… etc etc etc. * Mommy plucked a clean and fresh Nathan from the bath and snuggled him in a huge soft towel. She carried him back to his room, dried him off, powdered and diapered him, gave him his paci and teddy and left him to sleep. Then she went to her daughter’s room and got her nightwear ready only this time, her pjs were augmented with another thick fabric diaper. Once her daddy had fought through all the arguments and mess that her bath time routine had made, he also wrapped her in a towel and took her back to her room. Covered in such a huge thick towel she wasn’t able to run or kick or do anything other than lie still. Once he’d dried her, and while she was still relatively immobile he slipped the diaper under her and had it pinned in place in seconds. Sam’s protest died on her lips as her father pulled her pink pjs over it all and kissed her goodnight. Now she had Nathan settled her mother came in and, seeing her lay quietly in her bed, asked if she’d like a story. A very subdued Sam nodded so her mother picked up a book she’d read at an earlier time of her daughter’s life and began the tale of a pretty princess. Sam snuggled down with a stuffed toy and her mother remembered she had a paci in her pocket and offered it to her, which she happily sucked on as the story continued. It wasn’t long before she too dropped asleep and both parents couldn’t believe how much difference the diaper made. They discussed what had happened during the day and the punishment that had been dealt out. Strange that they both felt so guilty about a strategy that seemed to be working but it was decided that, in the morning, when they were getting her ready for school she would be diapered… just to see if her attitude there could also be changed. * Again Sam slept right through and was only roused from sleep by her mother’s gentle shaking. Sleepily she tried to make sense of where she was and what she was doing with a thick, wet diaper between her legs. This time, because she wasn’t wearing any plastic protection, the diaper itself had not been enough to prevent her pjs, blanket, sheets and mattress from getting a bit of a soaking. As her mother realised what had happened Sam started crying and shaking her head. She just couldn’t understand why, for the second time in two days, she’d woken up wet - she was a big girl and big girls don’t have accidents. Her mother made a note to remember plastic pants next time and felt silly that she had already bought a couple of pairs for her but hadn’t thought to put them on her that night. Still, it was a damp lesson, and one she was determined not to make again. However, whilst her daughter was coming to terms with what had happened, she quickly dried her off, wiped her clean and powdered her before slipping her quickly into a waiting disposable. Sam wasn’t really aware of the quick change so only realized what she was wearing when her mother slipped over a pair of pale blue plastic pants which matched her school uniform. She really wanted to object but was still feeling a little bit ashamed of her mishap. Her mother simply didn’t allow her protest to materialize and soon had her dressed for school. Other than the soft crinkle sound she made as she walked, no one would have been aware of the fact she was now diapered. However, Sammy was well aware of this fact. She thought the rustling noise she made could be heard by everyone who had ears, the thick feeling between her legs a constant reminder and although she hated it there was nothing she could do and would just have to put up with all her friends laughing and calling her names. * Mommy dropped her off at school and walked her into the classroom where she was left to go and join the other pupils. Meanwhile, her mother had a word with the teacher, passed her a bag which contained spare disposables and told her that Sam had had an accident during the night and that they thought, for everyone’s benefit, it might be best if she wore some protection for the rest of the day. Her teacher seemed slightly taken aback at this turn of events but nodded her understanding of the situation and she would see to it that if Sam needed a change, it would be done without any fuss. Despite herself, Sam wet her diaper twice whilst at school so without any fuss she was sent to the nurse who changed her. Sam may have felt awful about having such accidents but she was by no means the only girl in her class who also needed their diaper changed. She still didn’t understand why she wet just because she wore a diaper but the pee came unannounced and the only time she realized what had happened was when she felt the disposable swelling under the deluge. The other thing she was amazed by was that none of her classmates commented on either the crinkle sound or her frequent trips to the nurse, they all seemed relieved that at least for the time being, Sam wasn’t as shrill as she often was. However, the teacher also noticed that, despite her occasional need for a change, her behaviour had improved dramatically. She’d always been the brightest of all the children in her group and had dominated every one of them in every subject and, to a certain extent, the teachers had part thought this was why she acted up so much. Perhaps she felt stifled by her peers and her bad actions were her way of drawing attention to this problem. Maybe, but there was no denying that whatever her parents had done or said to her, she appeared to have calmed down considerably. The teacher didn’t make the connection between the protection and her behaviour but, when her mother came to collect her and heard about such positive conduct, she couldn’t help but feel relieved that she had found some kind of solution to her daughter’s aggression. On the car journey home Sammy was quiet but looked a little grumpy. Her mother tried to make conversation but she just gave one word answers. At least she wasn’t being nasty just deep in thought or at least had her mind on other things. When they arrived back at the house it was patently obvious why Sam had been so quiet, she’d wet herself again and was more confused than ever as to why. Thankfully the plastic pants had protected the car seat and contained the flood but she was a very waterlogged girl who desperately needed changing. * Her mother let her wallow in her damp diaper for a while whilst she unloaded the car and started to put her shopping away. Sam looked most dejected as she waited for her mommy to finish what she was doing and help her change. Eventually, she finished and shooed her daughter up to her room. Once there she helped her take off her school uniform, which left her standing there in the swollen protection. Sam was just pleased that there was no one else who could see what she could see. Her mother helped her out of the plastic pants and the disposable was saggy and saturated. Pulling at the tabs released the weight and, to Sam’s great relief, it flopped to the ground. Her mother laid her back on the bed and cleaned her up; wiping and powdering her thoroughly. Sam may not have liked it but realised that, whilst she was wetting herself, the diapers would be staying. So, when her mother fixed her into a thick fabric diaper like the one she’d worn the day before, she could do nothing but accept her fate. This time, and like Nathan always wore, she had a pair of clear plastic pants pulled over them. Her mommy added a pink t-shirt and was about to add a pair of shorts when she realised that the padding was too thick for them to fit. In the end, like the previous day, she was left to wander around the house in just her protection. Her mother was overjoyed when, just before Nathan arrived home from nursery (dropped off by a neighbour who also had a child at the same place) Sam climbed on the sofa with her and cuddled into her lap. Like her daddy the day before, this was the first act of affection that Sam had expressed for quite some time. Her mother couldn’t have been happier or more thankful and, with an emotional tear in her eye, snuggled her daughter tightly. ***** Part 3 For the next few weeks Samantha wore a diaper to school as well as at home. Every morning she would wake up wet but now took it as normal. She still had no idea why she should be in such a state but now that she did she no longer reacted. The enquiring, lively, though ultimately argumentative young girl had been replaced by someone with a much more placid demeanour, whilst her brother had never had such an attentive playmate. Both mother and father were proud of their daughter and although her diapers were proving extra work for them, it was more than compensated by the fact she was so much calmer and such a pleasure to be around. Also, and this was something they were both relieved about, they no longer needed to spank (or threaten to spank) Sam to make her do as she was told. At school it was like she was a different person, no one was scared or intimidated when she entered the room like they had been before. Also, she soon learned that she didn’t have to go to the nurse every time she wet, the disposable would soak up and store her pee leaving her feeling relatively dry, if slightly more bulky. She even got used to her plastic protection ballooning out a tad as her diaper expanded but waddled around expertly not letting on about her ‘misfortune’ until she arrived home. The moment she got in mommy would always lift her skirt, push a finger past her elasticated leg-holes and check, then if needed (which was nearly always), whisk her up to her room where a store of disposables, fabric diapers, plastic pants, wipes, various lotions and powders now awaited her regular changing routine. Gone was the anger, the shouting and near hysterics that had caused so many problems in the past, all being replaced by an affectionate sweetheart who seemed to be getting cuter and more adorable by the day. Her mother was really enjoying the transformation from disassociated seven year-old into an endearing little miss. She heaped praise and love on her almost nonstop and was even more overjoyed by the positive and tender reactions it brought. So many hugs, cuddles, kind words and general compassion were now happening naturally, it was as if Sam had remembered what it was like to be nice. Mommy purchased prettier diapers, more colourful and fancy plastic pants, as well as an array of new clothing that emphasised what a darling, devoted, little daughter she had. When they went out Sam’s delightful pastel-coloured summer dresses had gotten shorter to reveal her matching padded panties. Sam appeared not to even notice this ‘devolution’ in her clothing and no longer argued about anything she was made to wear. However, her mother was getting much too comfortable and at ease at the way her ‘reborn’ daughter had so effortlessly returned to those less-fraught toddler days. * It used to be a regular event that Nathan would request to go ‘potty’ after the deed was already done. He seemed to only know about it after it had happened and of course by then it was too late. However, as Sammy appeared to be getting younger Nathan was getting the hang of actually using the potty on time. He still occasionally had accidents but they were becoming less and less frequent and both his parents were relieved at this sudden progress. Almost overnight he began to go to school in ‘big boy’ briefs, and as a typical four year-old, when he was with his chums, enjoyed this step up from being a little kid. However, at home there was a different and unforeseen development. As his sister scooted around the house, often wearing little more than her diaper and plastic pants, he wanted to wear the same as she had on. Not that he wanted her girly clothes, he just wanted to wear the same kind of thick diapers and brightly coloured plastic pants as his sister, perhaps missing their snug and comforting quality. As soon as he returned home from pre-school he’d change out of his briefs and ask his mommy to fit a diaper. If they were playing out together and Sam was wearing something new, even if it was something frilly and pink, it didn’t bother him, he wanted to match. He’d sulk if he didn’t get it, though thankfully there was never the histrionics that Samantha inflicted on everyone. He just asked, begged, looked dejected and promised he’d never ask for anything ever again, if only he could wear whatever Sammy was wearing. He wasn’t even using his diaper as much as Samantha, more often than not waking up dry, but it was as if he wanted to show solidarity with her predicament so, he’d decided to dress like her. Despite an initial resistance from his parents, they saw no harm in his request and eventually gave in to his rather sweet desires... even if it was for something pink and frilly. His mommy checked the stuff she had in the attic from when they were both toddlers and found the plastic pants she’d reminisced about only days before. She just hoped that if they fit it would stop Nathan from looking glum because the household had become a pretty cheerful place. The silky plastic cover was a bit of a squeeze over his thick fabric diaper, the frilly nature not worrying Nathan one little bit. He was just happy to be dressed the same as his sister. And that joy was catching because mommy and daddy were equally thrilled to see their two children deep in some game, playing together, or laid out watching TV wearing their matching outfit. Their vibrant padded little posteriors repeatedly making new memories that both parents had thought were long gone. * The entire environment in the house had changed. Bed times were no longer proceeded by refusal and argument, in fact, Sam had started going at the same time as her younger brother without so much as a sulk or pout. On alternative evenings each parent took turns in settling the children down; bathing them, changing them, reading stories and making sure that a pacifier and correct plushie were in attendance. A kiss, a hug and a sweet ‘night-night’ was enough for their children to sleep right through until morning. Neither parent could believe that from 7pm they now had peaceful evenings to themselves and could completely relax. Mom was able to get back to her favourite pastime of dress making, while her husband found time to decorate and repair the many things that had just been left due to a lack of time that a disruptive house caused. Mommy made new outfits for both her children but they were aimed more at Nathan’s age group, than Sammy’s. Cute cartoon characters festooned many designs, though any new dress for her daughter was complemented by a pair of shorts for Nathan. Both children seemed to enjoy coordinating their clothes and were often found in each other’s bedroom discussing what they should wear. A padded bottom had never bothered Nathan and now Sammy didn’t care either. Her wetting was manageable so, perhaps because of the peace which now reigned, neither parent thought it strange that she was continually in damp diapers. Mommy and daddy loved their sweet and well-behaved little urchins and were often complimented by other parents who struggled to control their own kids. Moments like that made them feel that they were doing something right but failed to question how this turn around in Sam’s behaviour had come about. They’d taken it for granted that the harsh but, as they saw it, pertinent spanking had made her realise the destructive course she was on and helped her mend her ways. The diaper punishment had emphasised that her parents were determined to see that transformation in a permanent way and eventually Sam, even as just a seven year-old, had grasped that need for change. Her parents were enjoying this break from a home constantly on the verge of turmoil and certainly didn’t want anything to disrupt the tranquillity they’d achieved. So, although the daily soaked diapers were a shame they considered them as collateral damage, though something she would eventually grow out of. They had tried on a number of occasions to let Sam out of her protection but she still spontaneously wet her panties, the bed and the furniture and looked most gloomy until returned to the comfort and security they offered. * During the second month of Sam’s dramatic behavioural turnaround her mommy was called into school. This hadn’t happened for such a long time that she was shocked by such a request and the phone call had given her no cause to lose a sudden feeling of dread. Once in the office, and nervously smiling, she took her seat opposite a very serious looking Principal. After the cursory pleasantries he held up a sheaf of papers lying on his desk. They were a selection of childish drawings and paintings, scrawls and daubs that any mother of a two year-old would be proud to stick on her fridge, although she wondered why they were being shown to her. He explained that from being the brightest seven year-old in school Samantha now had no attention span, lacked any drive, appeared to have forgotten all that she knew and that this ‘artwork’ was as much as they could get her to do these days. Shaking the sheaves of paper in bewilderment he wanted to know what had happened to alter Samantha’s personality to such a dramatic degree. A cold, dark feeling of guilt and horror had crept into the pit of her stomach. Sam’s mother searched for the correct words to explain the change. She didn’t mention the spanking, she only mentioned about the return to diapers because… for some reason… her mind was racing for a plausible excuse. She came up with one - perhaps it was as a result of stress at school? Maybe that’s why she’d become incontinent? Seeing the Principal now slightly on the back-foot, and desperate to avoid any blame, she continued that maybe all the acting up at school was as a result of their teaching methods? Perhaps, Samantha was sensitive to such pressures that fall upon a seven year-old and she’d rebelled in the only way she knew how? The Principal was shaken by this accusation but, realising she had the slight upper-hand for the time being, seized the opportunity to leave but not before delivering a final desperate comment. For the sake of her child perhaps it would be for the better if Sam was home-schooled from now on and no longer subject to whatever pressurized regime the Principal may have installed in the classroom. * As she collected her daughter from another concerned looking teacher her mind was in turmoil. She smiled wanly and picked up her daughter, felt that her diaper was full but carried her straight to her car. Samantha was telling her mommy what a nice teacher she had and that she’d had a wonderful time painting and playing most of the day. The fact that she was soaked appeared to have no effect on the enthusiasm about school she was sharing with her mommy. On the journey home she responded to her daughter with nods, smiles and the occasional “Yes sweetheart” but her mind was racing for an explanation. Neither she nor her husband had gone too deeply into why she wet but had only been so thankful for the change. Surely, she thought, it couldn’t be the spanking that had made the difference but then she remembered, at the beginning, Sam would still react and shout and scream even after getting her bottom slapped. No, she determined, it was definitely down to when she was put into diapers… that was when she appeared to calm down the most. It was also the time when she began to become incontinent because her morning diaper was always soaked. Her mother was on the verge of panic; what had she done to her lively, outgoing daughter? Once home she quickly stripped her daughter out of her sodden protection. After she’d wiped and powdered her, instead of the diaper she went and found a pair of her little school girl panties. She slipped them up her well-powdered thighs, pulled on a sweet summer dress she’d recently made and sent her out to play. Sam looked a bit upset at not having her diaper in place but these days never argued with her mother and went gloomily to play on the garden swing and wait for her brother to get home. Desperate for some answers her mother searched the internet, clicking on a multitude of sites to see if any other parent had similar experiences. She was angry with herself, and her husband, for not getting to grips with this earlier. Between them they had just been grateful for the less stressful existence. She realised that once she had Sam in diapers, and Nathan to a certain extent, she had babied them both; neither had to make a decision, everything was done for them, she was even happy to dress them as toddlers so that mommy and daddy were simply too grateful to have such sweet, loving children. * As she peered out of the kitchen window to keep an eye on what Sam was up to she was horrified to see her squat down, and without pulling down her panties, begin to pee. A puddle began to form under her but it was obvious from her expression that she was delivering more than just her urine into her pants. Her mother caught her just in time before she went to play on the swing again in her messy panties and rushed her into the house and led her up to the bathroom. She sat her on the toilet and explained that was what it was for but Sam just had a quizzical look and started to unravel the roll of pink toilet paper. Her mother was suddenly struck by the complete lack of understanding her daughter now had of the rudiments she had mastered when she was two. Why she hadn’t been aware of this shift in her daughters decreasing perception she could do nothing but blame herself. However, she was desperate to get Sam back on track… somehow. Nonetheless, first thing first, she needed to clean her up and that meant, for the time being at least, back into diapers and plastic pants. For the first time in a long time she reluctantly applied the various creams and lotions whilst hoping that she would be able to get her potty trained again, especially now that Nathan had managed it. However, as she pinned on the diaper and slipped on her frilly plastic cover, she couldn’t help but think how cute and adorable her daughter was when she was so dependent. Her joyful giggles and laughter rang around her room, the kisses of gratitude and affectionate hugs that always followed her diaper change, the general feeling of happiness that radiated from her sweet smile must, her mother continued to argue internally, account for something. * Mother was in a dilemma, now she knew about her daughter’s apparent regression at school she couldn’t pretend that everything was hunky dory. There had been occasional nagging doubts about the ease with which Sam had accepted her new status but her mommy had just been too overjoyed at getting her little sweetheart back that she pushed them to the back of her mind. Now that the school was aware she couldn’t pretend any more. Despite her vociferous defence of her daughter to the Principal, she knew she would have to do something and perhaps taking her out of school was not the answer. She called the school and apologised to the Principal for accusing them of having a regime of any kind and asked if he had any suggestions as to what could be the problem. He suggested a child psychologist that the school had used in the past who might get to the bottom of the problem. Sam’s mother froze at the word ‘bottom’ and guiltily remembered the red and inflamed little bottom that she’d inflicted on her darling little seven year-old all those months ago. The problem was that she was torn. Torn between doing the right thing for her daughter and torn between the overall pleasures the family now enjoyed. Was she being selfish? Was she in denial? Was it really that awful to have a happy child rather than an aggressive terror that upset everyone? Neighbours who in the past had crossed the street to avoid Sammy were now happy to see her winning smile and cute clothing, and when she and her brother were out together everyone commented on how adorable they both looked “…and so well behaved.” But, as she got older and grew up, her mother realized that she wouldn’t be able to keep her as a toddler for ever. She shouldn’t be washing diapers and changing her children even if she was actually enjoying doing so. This was going to be harder than she thought. There was no doubt that her children were at an age where all this was OK and it didn’t look that strange but could she really see her kids still running around in colourful diapers when they got into their teens? She wavered but eventually came to a conclusion: No, the child psychologist was the way to go and perhaps sort out Sammy’s problem once and for all. ***** Part 4 Samantha slipped effortlessly into her teens, probably because she had no idea what being a teenager meant. She may have grown in size but her mind was still that of a toddler; she wore what a toddler liked to wear and, despite everything, was still dressed in diapers. The psychiatrists (yes, psychiatrists plural), had been useless. The one the school recommended thought it was just a phase and, even after repeated visits, couldn’t come up with a suitable answer as to why Sam was stuck in such a childish regression. Reluctantly her mommy had admitted to the doctor that she had severely spanked her but that couldn’t explain such a dramatic turn of events, could it? The psychiatrist had doubted that such action would have made a prolonged impression and concluded that she was just happy being a little girl again. This didn’t help anyone, except the doctor’s continued fees, so, when Sam’s daddy had got promoted and they moved to another city, they sought a second opinion. However, this doctor, with an array of letters and certificates after his name, was similarly useless. They tried several methods of changing Sam’s routine, dress, behaviour but now, because no school would take someone her age acting like she did, mommy had her at home full time. Between them the new psychiatrist and her mommy adopted new strategies to reach into Sam’s ‘little’ head but all they got in return where smiles, giggles and wet diapers. * Meanwhile, Nathan was also rapidly growing up and had become quite a ten year-old handful in his own right. Not that he was anything like Sammy had been at seven; he was successful at school in both academic work and athletics, captaining the school’s soccer team. He was popular and always in demand from school friends, neighbours and teachers, nothing was too much trouble for him to try and undertake. Having said that, his main priority was still his ‘baby’ sister, who, despite everything, he adored and who he spent time with still dressing as she did in her protection. It was strange that he’d never grown out of that desire and he’d told his mother at one point that it was a real connection he had with his sweet sister that he hoped would never change. It had never occurred to either parent that Nathan’s desire for diapers should be spoken about to the psychiatrists, it was just thought it was something a loving brother did for his ‘baby’ sister. He was now of the opinion that she was born as a ‘toddler’ and that is all he remembered of her, being fun, childish and loving. He never recalled the nasty things she used to do to him when she was angry or simply out of control, he only ever remembered her as she is now… an older sister who just happened to be a dependent little baby, who he doted on. The move to a different city also meant that Samantha’s parents could also start anew and didn’t have to come up with any reason for their daughter’s ‘problem’. Any new colleague, neighbour, doctor just assumed that they had a daughter who was ‘slow’. Perhaps damaged in some way or perhaps from birth, Sam’s parents never made any excuses or gave any reasons so it was left to the individual to come up with their own diagnosis for Sam’s condition. Nearly always it was sympathetic and people were genuinely entranced by such a happy family, who looked good, were perfectly behaved and had a son who was so obviously concerned for his sister’s wellbeing. Yes, in many ways they had become the perfect new caring neighbours and ones who were a delight to be around. * Sam always looked sweet and childlike now her mommy was making her clothes and dressing her in that ‘special’ way that was so charming. Around the house she was still mainly dressed in colourful diapers and plastic pants, with a pretty little t-shirt with a cartoon or animal print on the front. Sam had developed a love for kittens so her room and most of her clothes had the delightful little depictions of the creatures on everything. Even her plastic pants had little pink kittens chasing a ball of pink string running all over them and she looked so cute. Even though she was definitely growing taller and developing she would cry and sulk if she wasn’t in her diaper. And, if she was wearing diapers, so did her caring and considerate brother, who continued to be selfless when it came to making his sister not appear ‘different’. Because the doctors had been hopeless in treating Sam, her mommy and daddy had just decided they would make the best of the situation. There was nothing they could do that they hadn’t tried and nothing had worked. The only time that smile came back onto their daughter’s face is when she was back in her protection and her brother was playing some fabulous game with her. Her parents had settled back into making the most of a… not bad situation… and were enjoying the pleasure their ten and ‘two’ year-old gave them. * Two weeks after Sammy’s thirteenth birthday she woke up grumpy most unlike the way she usually greeted the day. The smile had disappeared, her teddy bear was thrown on the floor, her bed clothes were in complete disarray and, for the first time in almost six years, she hadn’t woken up wet. Sat on the side of her bed wearing just a cute t-shirt and thick protection Sam was in no mood for silliness. She screamed for her mother, who was just about to wake her, and demanded to know why she was dressed in such a “stupid, stupid, babyish fashion?” Her mother was taken by surprise at this aggressive behaviour and tried to placate her ‘little morning ray of sunshine’ but Sam was having none of it. She ripped herself out of her plastic pants, little kittens suddenly needing more than a ball of sting to run after, as she tugged at her thick, well-pinned night time diaper. The normally placid routine was replaced by a furious teenager who wanted answers and wasn’t content with soothing words from her mother. Eventually removing her diaper it fell to the floor dry but with something else that hadn’t been foreseen. * Even though she was now a teenager Samantha’s mommy had never thought to tell her daughter about growing up and the onset of menstruation. To everyone she had been this cute little child, full of fun and happiness, it was felt unnecessary to burden her with tales about growing up but, here she was, blood in her diaper, furious and seething about something her mother hadn’t seen for, well, over six years. Hearing the commotion Nathan walked into his sister’s bedroom dressed in exactly the same nightwear that she had been wearing and stood at the door waiting for his mother to explain what was happening. Sam saw her ‘stupid little baby brother’ still wearing diapers nervously hovering by the door and called out what a ‘big stupid baby’ he was. Her mother didn’t know what to do or say as Sam, now naked, swept past her and checked her closet. She pulled out all the childish clothing, screaming abuse at whomever it was that had stolen and changed her clothes for all this, baby stuff. She pulled the sweet little dresses off their hangers and threw them to the floor in disgust and demanded to know where her ‘proper’ clothes were. Her mother was still trying to calm her down and still talking to her like she was a two year-old. Sam looked at her mother in disgust and sarcastically told her to try and speak like a grown up for a change… it might be OK for the likes of him (and she pointed to a very panicky brother still unsure of what was going on) he may enjoy baby talk but she called emphatically… I’m a big girl. Just like that, the seven year-old Samantha was back and it felt like she had returned with a vengeance. * Her mother tried to explain that she’d been ‘ill’ and that she’d been kept in diapers because she was wetting everywhere. Sam wasn’t having any of this nonsense and demanded to know where her clothes were, she couldn’t even find her panties and wanted to get dressed for school. Despite her pleading for her to ‘just listen’ Sam was not in a mood for listening to anyone. Her mother thought the only solution was to spank her to make her behave and she pulled her across her lap and set about a hard spank to Sam’s wriggling bottom. Now being a bigger and stronger thirteen year-old, the process wasn’t as simple as it once was and Sam was able to wriggle free and for the first time in her life, struck out at her mother. She screamed that if she ever tried to smack her again she’d regret it and stormed off to the bathroom past her younger brother who was now suddenly standing with a quivering bottom lip and in his own very wet diaper. The unfolding scene had upset him and it was if he had suddenly been catapulted back to a time he’d tried his best to subdue. That awful person who had just tried to hit his mother was no longer the sweet little sister he adored but a bully he was afraid of. He may have grown up himself but unexpectedly that sad and scared little boy reappeared and so had his real need for diapers. The whole scene had become a nightmare and the warm flow that suddenly engulfed his diaper produced a tremor which made him burst into tears. * With Sammy having locked herself in the bathroom, her mother went to see to her shocked son. She was surprised to see him so distraught and even more surprised at his heavily sagging diaper. He’d not wet himself since, well, since Sammy had started wearing diapers. He took some cajoling but eventually she was able to get him cleaned up and dressed for school. He seemed very unsure and confused and needed constant approval from his mother to know he was doing the right thing. Thankfully his friend arrived and they went off to catch the school bus together so that was at least one problem solved. Eventually, Sam realised she couldn’t stay in the bathroom all day and emerged to be told that she’d been ill for quite some time and that the only clothes available to her now were those she had thrown on the floor. Even to Samantha this entire experience was a bit debilitating and her thought process missed an opportunity to find clothes that fit. She could have raided her mother’s closet, or even stolen some of her brothers clothes, however, neither of these options presented themselves in her confused mind. So, despite her arguing that she could never wear such things her mother insisted that until they could go shopping they were all that was available. # Reluctantly she fastened herself into a disposable (she wouldn’t let her mother anywhere near her), pulled up a pink diaper cover that looked more like panties than plastic pants and slipped over her head what she regarded as the least offensive looking dress she could find. It was short and still showed off her padded bottom but at least it wasn’t too obvious. It would have to do until they made it to the mall, which she was insisting they set off for immediately as she had no intention of wearing ‘this’ (she flapped at her dress in revulsion) for a second longer than necessary. Mentally she may have still been a seven year-old but Sam soon realised that she was much bigger than she remembered. She had no recollection of this so-called ‘illness’ but surmised that her mother must be telling her the truth. However, why she should have been dressed in such a babyish fashion she could only guess and her seven year-old brain had come to the conclusion that her parents had wanted her that way. She was easier to control as a baby, she had no opinions and what better way to stop her from arguing… stomping… screaming…??? As the car sped towards the city’s main mall Sam suddenly thought about how she used to be, well how she was, well, now she was confused. Quite a lot of her past was filling her head and as she understood she began to smile. She liked being the centre of everything; she liked that the world revolved around her and her opinions, she liked that she could ruffle up neighbours and teachers and other kids just by behaving in an aggressive way. She liked getting her own way, even if it disrupted everybody else’s life. This was a lot to take in as she peered sideways at her intense looking mother desperately trying to concentrate on driving and wondering what to expect now she had her ‘vindictive’ daughter back. In such a short space of time Sam had gone from a toddler, to a seven year-old and now an arrogant teen, she was growing up fast but there again, she thought, she had quite a bit of time to catch up on. * Sam was appalled to find that the diaper was quite comfortable to wear as the drive neared its conclusion. She could see the mall in the distance and it was only the amount of traffic that was hindering their progress but found that she was unintentionally wriggling around in her protection. The smooth, padded feel of the plastic panties against the car seat material was making her feel strangely happy. She soon cut that train of thought out. She wasn’t about to regress again but she was interested in knowing why, with a diaper taped in place, she should now feel a little bit more contented. However, there were a million other things going on in her rapidly expanding mind and getting to the clothes store was the priority. # It didn’t take her long to get a complete new wardrobe of trendy clothes. She may have given the shop assistants a hard time as she slipped into an array of different items, throwing things on the floor as she looked at something new. She saw what other girls her age were wearing and copied them adding her own touches here and there. In less than two hours she was dressed as a normal thirteen year-old girl, in jeans and patterned top, panties, platform shoes and clutching a quilted purple purse that seemed to be all the rage. She wanted to immediately throw away the outfit she arrived in but her mother put it in a bag to take home… diaper and all. Sam couldn’t see the point in keeping it but then said that perhaps her ‘baby brother’ could wear it, as it was far more ‘his style’ than hers. There was no way Sam was going to carry it, she had more than enough bags crammed with new clothing, so her mother had that responsibility when they returned to the car for the journey home. Sam didn’t know any of the songs on the car radio and was surprised to hear baby songs when she pushed the CD button. The look of horror on Sam’s face was equalled by her mother’s huge audible sigh at the loss of recent happier excursions they had taken together. She pressed the eject button then watched as it slowly emerged from the slot, then with a shrug and another sigh tossed the offending silver disc onto the rear seat. * Back home Sam wasted no time in emptying her closet of everything she disliked, which was everything. Her cute, newly made dresses, tops, skirts, together with the collection of nappies, disposables, plastic pants, wipes, powder etc. all went in a big pile, which she cheekily placed on her brother’s bed. She told her mother that he was the only baby now so she would have no further need for any of it and, slamming her bedroom, door shouted that she expected to be treated as an adult in future. The stroppy seven year-old had turned into a very demanding teenager who expected everything but wasn’t prepared to do anything for it. Her mother called her husband to tell him of this new development and both were sobbing at the realization of what they had lost and knew that hoping things might be different this time, was just an act of denial. They thought they knew what was coming but a thirteen year-old’s demands are louder and more confrontational than either was comfortable with. Threats had no meaning, discipline was hard to exact because all Sam kept on reminding them of was - they had kept her as a baby for six years and she was determined to make them pay. Meanwhile, in what seemed a very short space of time, her out-going younger brother, antagonized by his demon sister, regressed almost totally back to being a terrified toddler. The constant ridicule, her sneering, together with her scary anger had that affect - he didn’t want to wear diapers on a night but for some reason had started wetting himself. If Samantha was in the vicinity, just seeing her made him lose any control over his bladder. The flow would be instant and unhindered… there was only one solution and that was for him to wear protection. It got so bad that he was even wearing diapers to school, which some of the kids were only too happy to ridicule him about, which in turn made him even more nervy and scared. The traumatising didn’t stop at school. His loving sister making sure he knew his place, and she reasoned, as his parents had wanted a baby so much, he should take her place. It wasn’t hard to make that a possibility as Nathan seemed to have returned to being completely and utterly dominated by his ‘caring and loving’ sister. Her ‘baby’ clothes quickly found another recipient for their use and Sam would enjoy making sure her baby brother was appropriately dressed. Samantha was once again happy with the return to her status as the centre of attention. She ruled the house, though every night both her parents wished for a return of their ‘little’ daughter… their wish wasn’t granted. Every time Nathan had an accident or was seen to wet his pants, Sam would be there with a cruel word to mock him and insisted he be treated as she had been - those cute little childishly designed clothes her mother had made especially for her looked equally good on her diaper-clad brother. Friends and neighbours who previously thought they were just the ideal family were treated to a constant tirade from this precocious and horrible young lady who had turned into a rebellious and frankly jumped up, self-opinionated she-devil. Samantha revelled in her growing celebrity and enjoyed taking her cowering little baby brother anywhere she could ridicule him and force him to walk around often wearing embarrassing ‘frilly’ protection. He was always too scared to fight her or argue with her or say anything to her… she took control of him as easily as she had taken back control of the household. Despite attempts to get her to revisit a doctor or psychologist she simply refused any such suggestion. They, she decided, had made her into a little baby for too many years so now, it was her time and her teen years were going to be a terrible experience for everyone except her. The blood in her diaper had been the spur to grow up. Now, she was having the time of her life, whilst making everyone else’s a complete misery. ***************** The End