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  1. Never More Content - Part 1 Rob had been with Doctor Mark Thompson now for around 19 months. It was a relationship that, at the beginning, neither could have foreseen the outcome. However, Rob has never been happier; his days are now filled with fun, adventure and that rarest of gifts… love. For these last few months he had learned that he didn’t have to fight for everything, he didn’t have to worry about anything and, in fact, he didn’t have to think at all, Daddy would see to his every need. Rob was only 14 when he tried to mug the rich-looking man who was getting out of his BMW. His stomach was empty and he was desperate because for the last few weeks he had been living rough on the streets. He’d had to learn how to survive quickly since he ‘left’ home and he wasn’t doing too well. Opportunities to find food, shelter and safety weren’t as easy to come by as he had hoped they would be. In fact, he hadn’t had a decent meal or a place to stay since he’d slammed the door and swore at that drunken bitch… his mother. Recently, his home life had deteriorated badly, he’d been expelled from school because of his mounting violent streak, he fought against any form of authority, he hated the world and everyone in it and he needed to get OUT. However, living rough was even worse. When he wasn’t being offered drugs, he was the victim of those desperate drug addicts who saw him as an easy target. He carried the cuts and bruises to prove it as he was no match against the rougher element he met. His stomach ached with hunger and he urgently needed to get some money and this smart, swanky, well-to-do guy appeared to have loads. In the past he'd begged for money but people either took no notice, as if he didn’t exist or worse, screamed abuse at him for daring to ask for help. The only way he’d found effective was to threaten, then he was listened to and the sharp 8” blade he now carried certainly got most people’s attention. He waved it at the BMW owner and demanded money but his threat was swiftly countered by a speedy kick from the man that sent the knife spinning through the air and a follow up kick to the would-be mugger’s head that knocked him to the ground. It all happened so fast that Rob didn’t know what hit him until he regained consciousness… then things really began to get weird. Forty year-old Mark Thompson is a man who knows what he wants. He left school and university with an armful of top class awards, flourished quickly in his specialised field and found the demanding intensity of his martial arts programme the perfect way to relax, keep fit and stay alert. In the dark he hadn’t realised the age of his assailant, all he saw was a body rushing towards him and a fleeting glimpse of a steely pointed object being jabbed in his direction. His training took over and in a nanosecond the would-be assassin was dropped to the ground unconscious. As he checked the prone body he realised that the youth lying at his feet was in need of some treatment. He reached down and easily picked up the grubby, thin urchin and carried him to his apartment just a few yards away. The boy was filthy. His clothes were torn and tattered whilst the bruises and cuts on his hands and face made Mark wonder what the poor little guy had been through recently (apart from a kick to the head that is). He got the lad into his home and started to inspect the comatose body now he had light to see just what his injuries were. He removed the lad’s thin jacket and t-shirt and saw that there was a very bad, festering cut on his arm that appeared to have gone untreated for some time. He removed the boy’s trainers and jeans and saw that he was just a mass of bruises and, strangely perhaps, he felt sorry for his would-be mugger. The boy was still out for the count so Mark called a friend of his who was a doctor and asked him to come around and check the boy out. He arrived minutes later from an apartment in the same block just as Mark had finished trying to wipe as much grime away as possible and the lad was beginning to regain consciousness. Although not fully compos mentis Rob realised that something was going on and he was being touched… so he lashed out. Although there was hardly any force to the blow he managed to cuff the doctor at the side of his head and was about to throw another punch when Mark grabbed his arms and pinned him down. Despite being naked and having little strength he tried to fight back and break away from his captives. Alas, he was no match for them and a quick injection from the doctor calmed him down and he drifted off into unconsciousness again. Once he’d gotten over the brief commotion Paul, the doctor, carried out his examination and treated the bruises and cuts on the pale thin body as best he could. His diagnosis was more malnutrition than any great injury but recommended that the large cut on the boy’s arm was kept under scrutiny for any infection. He gave the boy various injections that would help him recover and suggested that Paul feed the lad up before letting him go… or call the police… or do whatever he was going to do with his young attacker. “He’ll be out for about 12 hours,” the doctor informed Mark. “So, is there anything else… or can I get back to Little Liam? I left him sitting in front of the TV watching the Cartoon Channel.” He saw Mark’s raised eyebrows, “Yes again,” he said with a shrug of the shoulders, “it’s his favourite.” Before he left Mark asked Paul to check to see if the lad had been sexually abused. Paul checked the boy’s anus and said that it was inflamed and torn and he reckoned that the lad must have been the subject of a vicious attack, and had probably been raped… and perhaps more than once was his diagnosis. Mark sighed “Poor little fellow.” Mark looked down at the lad once more and began to wonder what had driven this sorry looking soul to this point. He was even worried that if he threw him out and back onto the streets, the boy would be an easy victim of some unscrupulous druggies or bullies. He wondered what he could do to help; after all, he was a trained (and rather expensive) behavioural psychologist, perhaps he could help sort the lad out. As he speculated he suddenly became aware of a strong aroma and gathered that the boy had just urinated onto his leather sofa. He quickly grabbed the nearest thing to hand to mop it up, which led to the lad’s thin t-shirt, pants and jeans soon soaked with stinking piss. Rob was unaware of what had happened as Mark took these smelly objects and tossed them into the washing machine. Then he realised he couldn’t leave the lad naked so went off to find something to cover him with. Mindful that he needed to protect his sofa from any further accidents he found a large towel and some safety pins. Returning to the sleeping boy he fitted it like a diaper around the lad’s waist. Whilst pulling the towel up between the lad’s legs and fastening it tightly a sudden shiver ran down Mark’s spine. He caught his breath at this moment of recognition. His mind catapulted him back to the last time he’d done this - it was during his final exams in his last year of senior school. A huge trauma had recently affected Mark and he remembered waking up some mornings to find he’d unconsciously wet the bed. The trauma had been the dramatic death of his father in an explosion at the chemical plant where he worked, which had killed 17 others and had devastating consequences to all concerned. Finding he’d wet the bed at his age was another upset he found difficult to deal with and although he and his mother were very close, he didn’t want to burden her at this time with what he saw as a ‘stupid childish’ problem. Each night he’d diaper himself with a towel just in case he wet again and every morning he’d wake to find it soaked but on the plus side… at least the bed and bedding were reasonably dry. The pressure of exams and the death of his loving father, who had encouraged him to do well and to work hard, had ultimately had a distressing effect. He wanted his dad to be proud of him so worked exceptionally hard to pass his exams. The hours he put in to revision, the empty loss he felt inside, the sadness he could only imagine his mother was going through, all just built and built until it found some kind of release. It was just over a week that he’d been diapering himself when his mom found out. It was early one Monday morning when she entered his bedroom to wake him and found him sat on the edge of his bed in the soaked makeshift diaper. His youthful looks were etched with anguish as he shrugged not even trying to hide his obvious shame. She hugged her bed-wetting son and told him that he shouldn’t have to carry that worry on his own as she was there for him… for anything… and everything. Between them they would meet head on and solve any problem that came up. They had always been close and, like when his dad was alive, there were few secrets in this loving family. He was relieved that he didn’t have to pretend to her anymore and, as she sat beside him, both cried in their mutual sorrow. Once the tears were almost dried up she asked if he needed any help with his diapers. Apart from the soggy one, which at that moment was hanging heavily between his legs, he wasn’t sure what she meant. He gave a side-long look at his sympathetic mother and asked if she was offering to change him. She giggled, relieving what could have been a tense situation, and put her hand to her mouth as if she’d said something really stupid. They both laughed. “If I thought you needed it, of course I would, but you seem to be coping OK.” She looked into his eyes reassuringly. “But,” and she looked down at the sagging diaper, “don’t forget the other things… you don’t want to be getting a diaper rash at your age.” She paused to check he was still OK with what she was saying, “What I meant was, do you need me to get you anything?” He realised she was correct… it had all been a bit haphazard. He hadn’t been taking care of that side of his diaper hygiene, just having a shower then dressing for college… and his crotch and bum were raw and beginning to itch. His mom bought him some more appropriate disposables, plastic pants and assorted lotions and powders, it was like when he was a kid again and she loved the diversion from her own problems. One evening when Mark was getting ready for bed and applying his night time protection his mom came in and asked him if he recalled that he went through a similar period of bed-wetting when he was four. He remembered but, perhaps surprisingly, not in a negative way… it had all been so normal. She told him that he’d been potty-trained for two years when, just before he started school, he started to wet again. “Stress,” she said as if it was the answer, “you were very scared of leaving me and going to school.” His mom went on to tell him about the fun she and his father had with diapering their slightly older, but still little scamp as he played. “Wearing a diaper never stopped you doing anything. You never seemed to worry about it.” Indeed, from the moment it had been suggested that he needed to go back into diapers to save the bedding and loads of washing, he seemed to accept it. His dad was determined that he shouldn’t get distressed by being back in a diaper so had gone out of his way to be positive when his son was wearing them. This was partly due to the fact that he had also wet the bed as a child and his father, Mark’s grandfather, had given his own son such a horrible time about it; ridiculing and chastising him all the time. Mark’s dad was determined that if that type of misfortune should happen to his own son he would never be made to feel guilty about it. In fact, his dad, and mom to a certain degree, had loved having their 4 year-old baby back. They loved him scampering around the house in just a diaper and it never bothered young Mark because he was always being told it was normal as it was no more than just another style of underwear. The truth was that both his parents had loved his sweet little padded butt getting into all the things a 4 year-old got into. His dad had made it into a game for Mark and bought special plastic covers for his son’s diapers. Soon the little imp was running around in brightly coloured pants, that although made the padding thicker, didn’t seem to hinder his ability, or confidence, in getting around. At school there was no difficulty as he wasn’t the only one still in diapers and while at home, he seemed to prefer to wear little else. Even though it started as just a night time precaution, Mark was often up and dressed first thing in a morning before his parents and he’d have fastened himself into a diaper for the day… no matter what he was doing or where he was going. Both his mom and dad thought this was the cutest thing and Mark himself seemed to love each new design that was slipped over his diaper… often choosing the colour and pattern that his dad offered him each day. He wore all that extra padding from 4 years until he was almost eight, when, after a stay-over with his friend Danny, he'd asked his mom to buy him some big boy pants for when he started school again. Although his parents were sad that their little boy had grown up, they didn’t want to keep him dressed that way if he it made him unhappy. As his mum told him this story, parts of that time came flooding back to him and he remembered it as a period when he had never been happier. There was a great deal of loving attention from both his mom and dad and he recalled the constant picking up and hugging by them both. “We just loved patting your thick diapered butt.” His mom had said with a reminiscing smile, “and you… well you’d never seemed more content”. Suddenly those words struck him “never more content” and he knew exactly what he could do with his young, would-be assailant. His mind was suddenly dazzled with the possibility of this new enterprise. As the boy slept on oblivious of the thoughts that were now so appealing to Mark, the psychologist regretted chucking the lad’s clothing into the wash. As the final spin-cycle came to a stop he realised that any clues to his identity would probably have been washed away. The damp bundle of clothes revealed nothing at all. In fact, only the boy’s jeans appeared to have held together, the rest had simply dissolved to mere bits and pieces not even fit for rags. Finding out any information about the boy was now down to what he was prepared to reveal. He wasn’t sure if this would be a problem but looking down on the lad, wrapped in such a thick diaper, he thought it all might be worth the effort. He had this grand plan developing in his head as he slipped upstairs to his doctor friend to tell him about his intentions and to borrow some items that he thought would come in useful. ***tbc***
  2. Nightmare Asylum

    First and foremost, thank you @Selpharia - author of the amazing "Of Capes, Cowls, and Cuddles" sci-fi epic - for sponsoring this story. Her interest in our work enabled and inspired Pudding and I to create this wonderful tale. The fact that Pudding's main character in Nightmare Asylum and Selphie's main character in C3 have the same name is purely coincidence! Or is it? *evil laugh* Pudding and I called this story 'Spoopy Nightmare Asylum' for like three months, so it's only fitting that Nightmare Asylum is the official name. I might be a little slow to update this one through because we literally just finished it and it has a ton of editing that needs doing. Anyway, I hope you like it! Disclaimers: diapers, wetting, messing, hypnosis, little, regression ------------------ Nightmare Asylum by: Sophie & Pudding 1.) ”A haunted house?" "No, dummy, a haunted children’s asylum from like old movies. You know, back before kids were drugged up all the time.” On the one hand, it was hard not to be interested, because we were both studying children’s psychology at the university, Ria and me, but on the other hand it was hard not to be disgusted because we were studying children’s psychology at the university. "You're not chicken are you? I mean I guess I can go and ask Cat Stone if she wants to go with me instead? You know that lil' closeted rug muncher's wanted to spend time alone with me for, like, ever..." I didn't like girls. Ria did. I didn't have a crush on her, but boy did she have one on me. And okay, I was a little manipulative. So? "Don't even say her name!" It wasn't that I had anything against Cat, it was just... well, she was prettier than I was. I hadn't quite let go of my high school self-consciousness issues. "Fine. You want to go into the stupid asylum? Then let's do it. I'm not afraid." Though I was notoriously afraid of everything. Bridget, on the other hand, wasn't afraid of anything. It was so annoying sometimes! And so sexy other times... Wahaha. Bridget strikes again! Calhoun Gardens wasn't even that far away, either, so the biggest issue was just waiting for it to be dark enough to be scary. Ria wanted to leave early, so we stopped at a Wendy's on the way to waste some time. Sometimes I felt like our movements with one another were a game of tug-o-war, or the world’s most childish game of chess; always trying to outplay one another. But we'd known each other since Freshman year, and had been untouchably close ever since. We just had... a dynamic. "Are you gonna eat your potato?” I waved a fry at my best friend, eating the way I usually ate: like somebody who'd never been an ounce over 130lbs despite a horrendous diet of fries and Mountain Dew. Genetics, am I right? "No, you can have it." I'd barely ate anything on the ride up. We were parked outside the gates of the building - tall and looming - and the sun had gone down twenty minutes ago. I was so nervous that I could feel it in my fingertips. There was a sign on the gate - readable even from here - that said "Keep Out". "What if we get caught? We'll get arrested. This is breaking and entering. We'll get expelled." "We're not athletes, you dummy, and we go to a state college; our behavior outside of school hours isn't some media spectacle." I rolled my eyes. I wiped my hands on a moist towelette a little too obsessively - because eating food with my fingers was somewhat of a breakthrough that Ria had manage to make with me in the time we'd known each other, but I still didn't like messy hands - and balled up the Wendy's bag to toss in the back of the car. "Okay it seems acceptably dark and spoopy outside now. You got charge on your phone?" I regretted that this wasn't the 1980's where we'd have flashlights and cool stuff like that, because everything we needed was on our phones. "Or, or, or! We could say we went in. And you know. Not go in. I like that plan." "You really are scared, huh?" Bridget sighed. "And here I thought it was sort of sexy, how you were willing to go into the scary dark asylum..." I pouted and crossed my arms over my chest, feeling warm inside. Damnit... "Let's go," I mumbled. Hahah! Bridget: 1. Ria's sense of realistic fear: 0. "Alright, let's go." When we got out of the car, Ria fumbled to lock it and I watched her, frowning. "Who's going to break into our car, you ditz? A ghost? Besides we might need easy access to the car if we're being chased by deranged spirits! She frowned. And quick like a bunny, I scampered up over the heavy iron gate that blocked our path. "There's a hole in the fence..." she quipped at me, as I landed, and I stuck my tongue out. "That's less dramatic. Come on!" I opted for the hole in the fence. I was never a very good athlete and that gate was awfully high. Once we made our way quietly across the parking lot, we came up against the side-entrance to the building. The asylum was huge - at least five stories. It took up half the block. "There is no way we are getting in. Everything is boarded up." I turned on my heel and started back toward the car. "Oh well, we tried!" "Yeah, I mean, I guess there's no way in." With a grunt of effort I pulled up the doors to the basement, angled against the side of the building, and waved my hands at the ensuing staircase down into the bowels of the sublevel. "This is so cool, can you imagine what went on here? I'm really curious. I bet it was horrible, though, and that makes for angry ghosts. I hesitated at the entrance. "Stop being a baby. Get down here." So I followed Bridget into the small, dark sublevel of the facility. I didn't even know how old this asylum was. But hysteria must have been a pretty big thing, right? Oh, I should have paid more attention in my psychology class... I fumbled for my flashlight on my phone. "Really? Selfie Light 2017? Don't you have any apps on your phone that aren't for taking your own picture?" I shouldn't tease, honestly, because Ria had the kind of confidence-issues in her appearance that few girls would ever muster, even at our age, and it did nothing to offset how much of a nervous nellie she was in every other area of her life. But hey, taking pictures helped her, right? "Hey the stairs are wet, be careful." That clumsy girl could trip over a strong breeze, so I was amazed we made it down to the bottom in one piece. The only problem was... "Ew..." We were standing in like two inches of stagnant, smelly water. "I am not going any further." "Stop being a baby," Bridget reiterated, but I shook my head. "These are new shoes. I am not going in there. No way, no how." "Then leave your shoes behind." "And step on a rusty syringe and die of poison?" I refused to go down the bottom step, even though the water didn't look that deep. "It's just water, and the sooner we get to the stairs to go up, the sooner we'll be out of it. And look it's not very deep so that means there won’t be any water upstairs, right?" I was pretty good at seeing the positives in things, almost annoyingly so, but she puffed her alabaster cheeks out in defiance anyway. "I'll piggy back you." Which I'm sure would go just fine given the fact she had four inches and twenty-five pounds on me, but hey, I was trying at least. "I don't need you to piggy back me!" I sighed and looked down at the water. Ugh. What else could I do? I'd have to wash my shoes the second I got home. I slowly put my foot down in the mucky water and followed Bridget through the dark corridors. Where were the damn stairs? It was hard to see, even with the flashlights on our phones, and to make it worse the ground beneath the water wasn't exactly smooth either. "Hey, look!" Stairs, at last! But as we got closer there was something just past the stairs... Troubled Patient Wing. We both stared at the doors with the faded paint and brass plaque, and shared glances. "Well we can't not go in there..." "Yes we absolutely can't!!" I went right to the stairs and got my feet out of the mucky water. Already I was regretting this trip. All it needed now was a spider or a ghost or a zombie child. I brushed the cobwebs off my jeans. But when I looked back behind me, Bridget wasn't there. Uh... "Bridget...? Bridget? This isn't funny... where are you?" "You have got to see this." Ria just about jumped out of her skin when I put my hand on her arm, and she shook her head quick as could be. "I promise if you don't want to stay when you see it, you can go, but you have to see it." She frowned. I grinned. I made sure I won. And just like the first time when I'd pushed through the double doors into the Troubled Patient Wing, things changed. There was plush red carpet beneath our soggy feet. Lighting. Soft music. A warm and inviting atmosphere. Like we'd stepped into a totally different place. ----------- The first five chapters are up on our Patreon! Please consider supporting us!!
  3. A New Start Part 1 Love isn’t all you need… but it’s certainly a start. Cardinal Willem Luthar Flischer (1949 - ) Joshiwoo was more than a little agitated as he sat in his playpen pushing the toy plastic train around and around. The soft vinyl mattress he was playing on had got a few ‘hills’ and ‘dales’ for him to at least make his choo-choo sounds a little different as the train climbed up and down its enclosed plastic domain. His own plastic pants, with the multi-teddy bear motif that encased his thick disposable, crinkled as he crawled around and was a nice accompaniment to the tinkling sounds of the overhead mobile plinking a soft nursery rhyme. His super-soft pale orange t-shirt had an image of a smiling brown and orange monkey hanging from a branch and the words ‘Lil Monkey’ written in swirling letters underneath. He was warm, he was safe and thanks to his super-thick nappy, he felt extremely secure. Sitting in one corner was his new, sparkling white, soft and smiling plushie, Snowy the polar bear. Lying quietly behind him was pink Bunny Fluffytail and his plastic T-Rex, Tex. The size of his playpen was adequate enough to contain him and his myriad of toys and fluffy creatures, and, for the last few months it had been a big part of his world. That and being looked after by ‘mummy’. The thing was he’d been on his own for some time now and was missing her. # Four months ago she had discovered an almost broken young boy on the verge of suicide and contemplating the welcoming embrace of the rail line as he stood perilously close to the edge of the bridge. He’d lost everything: His job, his home, his money and his friends. He’d got addicted to something that had changed his personality so much that no one wanted anything more to do with him – fame. Fleeting though it was, it had filled him with an attitude and a carelessness that made him believe he was indestructible (he’d not allow any reasoning voice to alter its ego-boost). He’d been stupid enough to believe his own hype and let others take care of ‘all the other stuff’. His swift rise as an eighteen year-old reality star had taken its toll on his personality, the very thing that had made him so popular in the first place. His small stature, baby face, sweet nature and a choirboy innocence (that would have let him get away with murder) had endeared him to the public consciousness whilst the show was on. However, once the show finished and the offers came flowing in; the fame and the money, the parties and the celebrity all conspired to ruin him. The newspapers were quick to castigate such a ‘nasty little upstart’ and he quickly lost all the goodwill he’d had because of a series of devastating headlines. Whoever said that any publicity was good publicity was wrong when it came to the career of Gordon ‘Little’ Littlewood. Just two years after it had started, it was over. His small stature and schoolboy looks didn’t stop the papers from holding him up to public ridicule for his drunkenness, drug abuse but the final straw had been the rape charge. Twitter, newsgroups, social media and newspapers in general became like a pack of wolves around the subject of Gordon Littlewood. After all, the news media had decided, as he was over eighteen he was targetable. The public were getting fed up with rich, young, good-looking celebs; it was time to take them down a peg or seven. There was once a time when a gentler, more forgiving, atmosphere existed in the world but nowadays it had been replaced by anger, spite and lethal vindictiveness and, if you were in their sights and vulnerable, you were eaten alive. ‘Little’ became a BIG but unedifying story for the media and anyone with an axe to grind. It hadn’t helped that his sweet personality had so rapidly changed to become unbearable and self-possessed. The sad thing for Gordon was he had nothing to back up what people had seen in him in the first place. That easy charm he’d revealed in the show was perceived (thanks to those highly defamatory articles and gossip columns) as nothing more than fake. The fact that he was once a ‘nice lad’, corrupted by fame and turned into this spiteful, self-opinionated sleaze ball, was absolutely no defence. As the papers joyously pointed out, it was easy to blame everyone else for his self-inflicted failings. The rape charge was eventually thrown out of court for ‘lack of evidence’ but he was never completely exonerated, even though most people ultimately realised the accuser was sick and had made the entire scenario up. Unfortunately, by then it was all too late and, as everything was gone; the money, the fame, the ‘friends’ (who delightedly cashed in on his celebrity) and any self-respect he once might have had departed. So, at just nineteen (almost twenty) years old he stood on the bridge wondering what life would be like dead. # The playpen was quite large and comfy as he lay listening to the plinky-plonk sound of his mobile. He hugged Bunny Fluffytail and held tightly onto his fleecy blankie, whilst gazing up at the stars and flying horses that circled over his head. The large white dummy he gently slurped on was also a comfort as he waited for mummy to come and change his soaked nappy. Earlier in the day his mummy had gently pulled him from his crib where he was all warm and sleepy and checked on his wet night time protection. She only changed him after he’d suckled on his bottle of formula and eaten the large spoon’s full of mushy Honey Oaties he enjoyed so much. He liked it when mummy changed him. She spoke such sweet words, kissed and tickled his tummy, cleaned and powdered him in such a loving way that, even when he was wrapped in his clean thick new disposable, he wanted it to continue. Thankfully, once the process was complete and mummy was happy with the way her little baby boy was dressed, she’d hug and cuddle him tightly to her bosom and rock him as she hummed a little tune. He’d close his eyes and suck on his dum-dum whilst mummy patted his well cushioned bottom as she finished her devoted morning ritual. # Gordon no longer remembered his past, all he knew was the present and the affectionate attention mummy lavished on her ‘sweetums’. In fact Gordon no longer existed, he’d become Joshua or more exactly, Joshiwoo. Yes, that’s what mummy called him: “My sweet little Joshiwoo - the sweetest of sweetums in the entire world.” He’d learned to say ‘Mummy’ but very few real words passed his lips. Gurgles and chuckles, bubbles and smiles were all mummy needed from him. He’d stretched out his hands to cup his new white bear or call for his pink rabbit and make some baby words that had entered his head but even his conversation with his toys was mainly babble. He might call out for ‘Shnowy’ or ‘Bun-bun’, he knew their names but was still learning to say them properly, but most of his vocabulary was just one word and pointing. Sometimes he’d sob a little even though he didn’t know why, but mummy came and tenderly stroked his hair or gently hugged him until whatever had caused the tears had been banished. Sometimes the snuffles were just because he was hungry, other times that he was saturated but mainly it was because he loved to have his mummy play with him. His teddy and other stuffed animals were fun and always felt nice to hug but it was mummy he liked to hug the most. She’d play with him and make noises that the animals or toys made and he’d learn from repeating mummy’s words or sounds. # Angela Epstein (nee Applegate) had been married to Doctor Joshua Epstein for two years when tragedy struck. She was just finishing her own nursing qualification when a huge accident on the fog bound M1 motorway had taken the life of her husband, which left her almost completely destroyed. The only thing that kept her going was the recent news that she was expecting her first child so devoted the next few months into making sure the birth of their baby would be a wonderful, uncomplicated experience. Unfortunately, the birth had been a messy and painful experience and her son had died just minutes after he had been welcomed into the world. A series of neural and physical difficulties meant that the sweet little baby boy never drew breath and his heart-broken mother only got to hold him for a few seconds before he was rushed away. Angela fell into a deep depression and for a couple of years hardly went anywhere, spoke to anyone or allowed friends to comfort her. She was utterly devastated. Every waking hour she just thought of what her baby would be doing at that moment had he survived. She’d named him Joshua after his father but even naming him didn’t make much difference to the deep morose feelings that seemed to engulf her. # That was until one day, whilst walking through the city’s shopping mall she noticed a sign on a window display saying that there were staff vacancies. Despite everything that had happened, this opportune moment came when she looked into the display of clothes and baby items in Everything4Baby and for the first time felt happy rather than resentful. All the colourful cute outfits and items for baby for some reason now filled her full of pleasure and on a whim she applied for a job. At the interview she never mentioned the loss of her baby but did mention the loss of her husband. Her nursing background was seen as an advantage and within a week she found herself working in an environment that once would have filled her with sadness but now filled her with joy. Everything4Baby had given her a job and a purpose. She loved the new mummies coming in and excitedly buying cute new stuff for their upcoming child. She loved suggesting items and helping pick out little onesies, nappies, bottles and toys for these young mothers. She was often surrounded by a sea of babies with their parents all searching for that specific item to make their little one ‘individual’. Because of constant requests for that ‘unique’ or ‘designer’ item, she’d found new suppliers, designers and clothes makers who, at a price, would create something ‘different and special’ – perhaps surprisingly, there was a great deal of social one-upmanship and elitism in the world of baby clothes. She was good at her job and soon found that she rose up the staff ranking and within two years was managing the branch. A year later and she bought out the owner and set about a series of adjustments that would develop the business far beyond what had originally been planned. Because of the way she ran the enterprise, the place catered for mummies, babies and those interested in baby stuff, even if they weren’t quite real babies themselves. Everything4Baby could have been renamed ‘Everything4allbabies’ because of the diverse selection of customers who came into the shop. That was ten years ago and she’d never been happier. # However, one late night driving home she noticed a dishevelled and sad young boy looking like he was contemplating his life as she saw him climbing up onto the rail bridge’s safety barrier. A shiver of concern ran through her body but the fact that there were few people around made her slam on the brakes and decide to try to do something. The boy only looked to be in his early teens, possibly thirteen or fourteen, and immediately thought how old her own son would have been had he lived. Her heart went out to this obviously distressed young man. She had no idea what to say or do once she got there nor how he’d react, it was a matter of trying to do something rather than nothing. Angela knew it may already be too late and the boy may have plummeted onto the busy rail line below but she also knew she had to try and help him. “What if,” she imagined, “this had been her own son in such turmoil?” She’d hope that some passing Samaritan would try and help. # Part 2 They sparkle and twinkleth like diamonds caught in starlight Edmund White-Thomlinson (1801-1843) Joshiwoo was sucking on his bottle. The warm liquid filling his tum-tum and making him wriggle contentedly in mummy’s lap. He had no concept of time or of his past life, right now was the only thing he knew and to his mummy at least, he appeared happy enough. She kept him warm, safe, clean and loved. Yes LOVED. She had poured everything she knew, every resource possible, called in every favour and provided all she could into giving her new baby all the things she would have given to her own had fate not claimed him. She was now in possession of a boy who had been damaged by the consequences of his life and was in need of a new beginning, she was going to make sure he received it. # Angela had managed to get to the highly distraught boy just seconds before he jumped. He was surprised to see this woman approach and a brief thought that it was someone, like the rest of his money grabbing family and members of the public, who wanted to taunt him. But, and this had been the surprise, in a calm and soothing voice she had simply said: “Please don’t jump.” After the beating he’d taken from his family, friends, press and his most recent experience, these were the first tender and concerned words he’d heard in a long time. He was shaking as he stood on the railings; he really didn’t want to jump but could see no alternative to the mess he’d made of his young life. The hate he seemed to have generated, the nasty and vindictive personality he’d adopted, the laughing stock he’d become – none of this really suited him and it was time to end it all. But, he wavered as the kindly lady reached out and simply said: “Let’s make your life better.” The steady gloved hand hung in the night air as she managed to coax the young boy down. Angela was completely unaware who he was, he simply looked like a damaged young teen in desperate need of help. # Baby Joshua sucked on his dum-dum as his mummy patted his nicely padded bottom. She’d been amazed at how much liquid he was able to produce but now, several weeks in, she liked the look of her well-cushioned ‘son’ and the number of stuffers in his nappy certainly made him bulky but, as she smiled to herself, incredibly cute. His plastic pants were tight under the dinosaur onesie he wore to keep everything snug but it also helped the soft rustling sound as he shuffled about. Angela just loved to observe Joshiwoo as he played, napped and lived his new unencumbered life. “This is how it should have been.” She thought as Gordon became Joshua and she was able to be a proper mother to her ‘little’ one. Both had a new take on life; a new deal, a new reason to be alive… a brand new start. # When Angela had got the disturbed boy home he was shaking, tired and completely exhausted. She thought, whatever he’d been through, it must have been something quite traumatic. He was dirty, wretched and looked like a he could use a meal but, as he sat in her lounge; all he really wanted was to sleep. Without much thought other than helping the poor boy she suggested he take a bath and then, if he wanted, have a nice long sleep. Gordon was thankful for the suggestion and grateful for the offer of somewhere to stay for the night and, above all else, that he didn’t have to explain anything there and then. A warm bath and a bed were just what he needed. Whilst he relaxed for the first time in many months he let the warm embrace of the bath soothe his troubled mind. Meanwhile, Angela was busy making up the bed in the other room, the room that would have been Joshua’s. It was, despite the passage of time, still full of many of the nursery items she had bought all those years ago. Lying unmade against the far wall was the crib in which he would have spent those first few months of his life and a tremor ran through her body. Tears sprung to her eyes and she wept for her loss… it wasn’t the first time and she doubted it would be the last. # She went back to the bathroom to check on her guest and saw that he had fallen asleep. She smiled and returned to the room to make space for the inflatable mattress she manoeuvred into the place and added sheets and a blanket. When she’d finished she looked around the room, it still had very much the nursery and baby look; cartoon characters, baby animals in diapers, mobiles and loads of fluffy animals, toys, blankets and the soft, subdued lighting she though a baby might need. Using a selection of baby blankets she quickly made up the bed. It may not be what a teenager might want to sleep on but with all the soft fleecy material it certainly looked comfy. A thought flashed into her head – should she make him wear a nappy? It might have been because she was already in a hyped up state, being back in her child’s nursery but that weird thought seemed to come out of nowhere. It was true that whenever she ventured into the nursery all the ‘what might have been’ came flooding back. Even though the room never got to experience a child sleeping and playing in it there was an atmosphere of baby powder and infant about the place. Nappies danced for a few brief seconds in her head and, in her mind’s eye, she saw herself putting baby Joshua into a pair. She smiled at the thought but quickly realised her guest was hardly likely to wet the bed and didn’t think it a problem if he did, the inflatable was made of plastic so very little could be ruined. It had been a strange and unusual few moments, besides, she doubted if any of the baby stuff she had would fit a boy the size of the one snoozing in her bath. She laughed at her own silly thoughts and went to retrieve the slumbering lad. # A heap of filthy clothes piled on the chair needed sorting, there wasn’t much but far too dirty for him to sleep in. She decided to wash and dry them but was surprised to see a set of keys, a phone and a bunch of coins sat on top of the pile. The phone wasn’t turned on so might have been broken and if what she saw was the sum total of the boy’s money, he really was in a bad way. Anyway, none of it mattered at that moment so went off to find some pyjamas or shorts or ‘something’ he could wear. After several minutes searching she’d found very little that might be appropriate but a pair of her own flowery thick cotton winter PJs and some white cotton knickers she hadn’t worn in years. She decided that they would do temporarily and, after putting his dirty clothes into the washer, went and woke her sleepy soaking guest. # He took some rousing from the bath but eventually she was able to help him up and, after offering him a fresh towel, left him to dry off. He didn’t appear that bothered that a complete stranger was taking care of him and, seemed more than grateful, for the underwear and even the floral jammy bottoms. Her kindness and sympathy was just what he needed so was content to be warm and clean with someone fussing around him, it had been a while. The lighting in the bedroom was low and as she guided him towards the temporary inflatable. She apologised for not having a proper bed but assured him that others who had slept on it in the past had found it quite comfortable. He was really too tired to worry and just glad of a place to lie down, he would have happily stayed in the bath had she left him. She reminded him where the toilet was in case he needed it during the night and jokingly added that if he wet the bed then it would be nappies in future. A quizzical expression passed over his features (he hadn’t noticed the nursery print wall paper and the room’s other juvenile trappings), she giggled embarrassingly letting him know she was only making fun. He was well-tuckered out and, as the room was pleasantly warm lay out on the blankets, curled up into the foetal position, and almost immediately started drifting off to sleep. A quiet “Thank you” escaped his lips as he snuggled against the fleecy blankets. He slipped the soft material with the childish motifs over his body as a huge relaxed sigh and wiggle to get comfortable brought the evening as far as he was concerned to a close. Unconsciously she reached out and stroked his hair. “You’re welcome sweetheart.” Kneeling next to his bed she watched for a few moments as he settled down and soon his shallow breathing signalled he was asleep. Her heart once again went out to this poor little guy as she wondered what had driven him to contemplate suicide. However, at the same time she pondered this, she was also thinking of her lost baby and as she looked down on her sleeping visitor, all she really saw was her own son. Her heart welled up and she sobbed wishing that this poor boy was indeed her little boy and she could look after him and make sure he’d come to no further harm. As she looked on he lay there tightly cuddling the fleecy blanket in his left hand whilst his right made its way to his lips. She watched with a smile on her face as he soothed whatever worries he had with the aid of his spit soaked thumb. “Goodnight Joshua.” She whispered and kissed his head. # Part 3 “As you grow the small child within is not holding you back but offering a place to heal” Mohammed Devwhalli (1901 -2000) Baby Joshua was wet, very wet as he woke from his nap. He clutched ‘Sh-nowy’ tightly and its soft white fleecy coat tickled his face as he slowly returned to wakefulness. Almost immediately his mummy was by his side and letting down the bars of the crib, checking her boy’s night time protection and beamed with pleasure as she helped him get to his feet. He tried to return his happiness at seeing mummy again by smiling round his dummy but all that achieved was more drool dripping onto his brightly coloured onesie, his chest was almost as wet as his nappy. This was baby Joshua’s favourite part of the day when mummy cleaned him up, tickled and played fun games, bathed and dressed him. He’d giggle almost continually until she’d help him downstairs for something to eat. Sometime, if he’d had a restless night and was still half asleep, mummy would hold him in her arms whilst he drank his formula from a bottle. Once he’d sucked it all down she’d burp him and then put him down so he could sleep until he was ready to face the day. There was little point in changing him until then as he always wet when he slept and all that formula had to go somewhere. Mummy made sure the thick soak pads added to his nappy would keep him from completely flooding his cot. # Angela knew that she should be trying to get in touch with the boy’s parents so that they were aware he was OK. However, because he’d been in such a state she thought it better to wait, have a chat with her guest and then decide on who needed to be informed. Once this decision had been made she settled down on her sofa to catch up on some paperwork. It was very late. The events of the evening had eaten into the time but there were still things for work she had to do before the morning. As she examined the various bills, quotes, designs, worksheets etc. progress was very slow because her mind kept returning to the poor lad upstairs. She’d rescued the boy but now felt some kind of responsibility to him and his family. Her concentration level was poor until she happened on a bill from one of her ‘specialist’ firms. This small firm produced bespoke, original items in any size and had quickly become one of the main suppliers to her ‘alternative’ baby customers. When she’d first embarked on this side of furnishing the needs for this group of customers, she had to source the companies herself, check if they were up for making the items requested and then agreeing a supply chain, delivery dates and, most importantly, happy customers. All these points were achieved with relative ease and it could be said she was one of the few such providers in the county. Everything4Baby had quickly become the place to shop for such a market and, the once-a-month late night private shopping, had proved both popular and a location where like-minded people could meet and discuss their predilection - babies during the day, ABDL at night. Now as she examined the bill and the items ordered her mind focused on what it would be like to have something similar herself. It was for an adult crib with lockable sides and a deep soft plastic mattress with a baby duckling design. The person who requested it also wanted an entire set of bedding and baby clothes to match. It was a huge, expensive order but she had been able to coordinate all the different suppliers to work together and produce a superb finished product where all the component parts worked in harmony. She was justly proud of what the happy customer received and he, rightly, was nothing but praise as word spread throughout the community. * She slept fitfully that night. Her mind full of adult babies and the charming little get ups they wore. She’d often passed comment on how wonderful they all looked in their baby clothes: The made-to-measure nappies, shiny vinyl pants, dresses, onesies, pjs, colourful vests, bibs, cartoon all-in-ones, indeed, even the suppliers were delighted with this new, demanding and growing outlet for their pricey but high-end creations. However, when her dream started incorporating her visitor she struggled against the idea – it was stupid, insane, and probably even against the law and, more to the point, RECKLESS. However, dreams being dreams, the thought lingered and she became captive in a life, a dream life, which had him at its centre but as a baby. When she woke up she was most uncomfortable with what was in her head. There again… * She quietly opened his bedroom door and was surprised to see that he’d hardly moved in the night. He was still lying on top of the blankets although one was now gripped tightly against his body but she detected the tell-tale smell of urine. Despite her thinking it wouldn’t happen she soon realised that her guest hadn’t made it to the bathroom and could see the outline of the ‘tidemark’ around his floral cotton PJs. He was still fast asleep. She cautiously shook him awake. It took a while but eventually managed to get him to near consciousness as he looked around unsure of his bearings. “Sorry to wake you, er, erm, er,sweetie ,” she was a bit hesitant because she still didn’t know his name. “I have to go to work but, if you want to stay in bed, I’ll be home around lunchtime…” He yawned and stretched but was still unbelievably tired. “Er, OK.” He simply acknowledged her offer to stay in her home for a little longer; after all, he didn’t have anywhere else to go. “Yer, er, I could do with some more sleep… thank you.” He mumbled but smiled his thanks and waited for her to leave. As she hesitated at the door he suddenly realised that she might actually have some doubts about leaving him alone. “Oh, your stuff will be alright, I’m not a thief and I’m grateful to you for…” “No, no, it’s not that,” Now it was Angela’s turn to feel she needed to explain. “It’s just…” He suddenly became aware of the pool of smelly dampness he was lying in. “Oh for Christsake, what the fuc…” “No, no don’t worry… I… er, we can…” She saw him fling back the blanket he was clutching and look down at his soaked jammy bottoms and the urine soaked sheet he’d been lying on. The plastic inflatable mattress making sure no further harm was done but that also meant however much his bladder released had now soaked into everything else. He looked up at her and his irate expression changed to one of distress and regret. In that brief moment he’d changed from an angry young man into a sad little boy. His face screwed up in abject failure and was almost on the verge of letting his tearful emotions take control. It wasn’t a clever contrived reaction to his damp situation, it was real. For a few seconds there were no further exchanges, they were both a little overawed by what had happened. Eventually, he looked around the room and gave her an apologetic smile. “I suppose if I’m going to piss myself, at least I’m in the right place to do so… you’d better get the nappies ready.” * Although the last line was said as a joke his mind immediately slipped back to ‘There and Then - Here and Now’ the reality TV show he’d appeared on. It was roughly an updated, 24/7 version of the popular ‘Big Brother’ franchise with live and recorded segments broadcast (though which segment was recorded and which part live was never relayed to the contestants) of course there was also tasks to be completed daily. Each player gained points every twenty four hours depending on how well they ‘performed’; this was done by phone votes and logged on-line responses. Once the contestant was voted out of the house, their accrued points were available and up for grabs, which the public could then, via a live phone in, allocate to other members of the cast. This intense involvement from viewers had seen the show top the ratings and become the ‘must watch’ programme on TV. The newspapers ran an almost blow by blow account of the outrageous behaviour of the contestants, who became instant celebrities, whilst the public in general just couldn’t get enough of it… especially as they could submit tasks to be performed. This interaction was one of the segments of the re-vamped show the public liked best because they could actually appear on it via social media and suggest what was to happen. Although these bits looked ‘live’ they were in fact recorded so as to give the production crew time to get any props organised. # One such suggestion was to split the house into two - one side to be mummies and daddies, whilst the other had to be babies. Of course, as it turned out Gordon ended up being a baby and was suitably dressed. His small frame gave him an advantage and his bulky nappy, shiny plastic pants and frilly bonnet seemed just perfect for him as the challenge got underway. He took to the part like a duck to water and immersed himself in the antics of a baby. He was convincing and, with his little tubby tummy on show and the huge protection that the cameras just loved to constantly feature, he was the one the audience adored. The public loved this feature and called in with ideas for what they should wear, what they should be fed and the babyish games they should play. And, whereas the other ‘babies’ baulked at some of the suggestions; Gordon played the part to the fullest. On more than one occasion what they were dressed in bordered on the fetish rather than adolescent, whilst the outrageous bulky nappies, satin dresses or juvenile onesies were just too much for some. Those who were acting babies were not allowed to speak but could only make their wishes known by crying, pointing and gurgling. The six other babies were hopeless but Gordon proved to be a winner and made front page news in his cute baby outfit with this particular task when he wet and messed himself live on air. What the public were not aware of was that his ‘accident’ was just that. He hadn’t meant for it to happen but, a long nap, together with some rather dubious baby food and drink had led to a spectacular reaction. The stunned and confused expression on his face (and the tears that followed) was something that no one could ignore. The public were appalled and delighted, the ratings soared and Gordon won infamy as well as the public vote. It was he who walked away with the £250,000 prize at the end of the show. # Despite all this public affirmation and notoriety the programme had passed Angela by. She had of course heard of it but hated reality shows and rarely watched TV. She was also not in the least bit bothered about gossip (celebrity or otherwise) or indeed any sort of ‘popular culture’ so the fortunes of the shows ‘stars’ had come and gone without so much as a comment from her. She still had no idea who this soaked boy in her spare room was but who, at that moment, looked even more pathetic than he had when standing on the bridge preparing to commit suicide. His slim pale body, shaggy hair and big brown eyes doing nothing to confirm he was an adult. He really did look like a small child confused by the way his bladder had let him down. He had no excuse for why he wet the bed and possibly ruined a kindly woman’s patience… for a brief moment he wished he’d taken up her jokey reference to wearing a nappy. This was not the first time he’d wet himself, and not just on the TV show, that was one of the many things his ‘loving’ family were able to torment him about. He was constantly bullied by his family and being the youngest and smallest, he was an easy target. His occasional bouts of incontinence also added to the vast amount of abuse the boy suffered all his life… he was the butt of everyone’s jokes. He had no idea the reaction his stupid bodily malfunction would garner from this guardian angel. For Angela’s part, she knew he needed time to heal from whatever had driven him to contemplate that final act of self destruction. His pissing the bed only added to the boy’s vulnerability and further evidence he needed to be cared for. # Part 4 I fear a future that has no future Izzy Downing (1980 - ) from the poem ‘Magole’s Lament’ “Look, don’t worry about anything.” She looked around the nursery and thought he was right, it was the correct place to do it if you were going to pee your pants. “I have to go to work but, your clothes are in the washer and should be dry in a short while. If you can put all this stuff on at some point,” she said indicating the wet bedding, “I’d be very grateful.” Gordon nodded. “Thanks. Look,” she said as an afterthought, “if you want to go, please just drop the latch as you leave, but, should you want to take some time to think or… talk, I’ll be back at lunchtime and we can chat then. After all, I don’t even know your name.” Gordon couldn’t believe he hadn’t been recognised although in truth, he did look different now than he had when he was in the show. He was both suspicious and relieved that his identity was unknown and wondered how he could spin this anonymity to his advantage. “OK, and, if that’s alright with you… I’d like to stay a little longer to try and get my head in order… and a chat at lunchtime sounds fine.” He smiled and then as if to bring the conversation to an end looked down at the mess he’d made and grimaced. “I’ll have this all cleaned up by the time you return.” # It was a busy half-day in the shop for Angela. It seemed that everyone in town who was pregnant had decided to pay a visit and she was rushed off her feet. She didn’t mind that amount of business, she didn’t mind the questions, nor did she mind the continuous nervous and excited requests for advice and information. As manager/owner of Everything4Baby she was used to being asked everything from infant fashion guidance to relationship problems. It was that type of store and the reason why it had become so successful. Nevertheless, by 1pm she was completely shattered and ready to get home having in the past few hours temporarily forgotten about her guest. However, before she left she grabbed a couple of items from the storeroom and put in a call to one of her ‘specialist’ contacts. # Once home she was pleased to find him dressed and watching TV with a mug of coffee by his side. To Angela he looked even more like a young teenager; his now clean, if ripped, jeans and Call of Duty t-shirt, mop of ill-kempt hair, bare feet and nervous nod of acknowledgement only making him appear like a schoolboy truant. “Hello,” she smiled and carried things through to the kitchen. “Glad you decided to stay for a while.” She called over her shoulder. Gordon was engrossed in the programme but looked up and smiled as she zipped through the living room and up the stairs. “Yer, yer, er, I think I need time to, er, think… if that’s OK with you?” He called back to her. She disappeared into her bedroom but carried on the conversation… only a little louder. “No problem. Have you eaten?” Her voice carried from the bedroom as she slipped off her coat and sorted out some of the items she’d brought home. “I had some toast earlier, I’m not really hungry… er, can I get you a coffee, tea or something? You look like you’ve had a busy day?” Almost immediately she was back down stairs and into the living room. “Please, tea would be nice and yes… it has been very hectic.” Gordon busied himself in the kitchen boiling up the kettle, putting tea in the teapot, putting milk in a jug, although his brief search didn’t turn up any sugar. He saw there was one bone china cup and saucer and correctly assumed that was how she preferred her tea served. She was a stylish lady so no doubt drank her tea with a degree of finesse and that classy crockery, he thought, suited her just right. Meanwhile, Angela settled herself on the sofa and was looking forward to having a nice chat. # Joshiwoo lay on the carpet in front of the TV watching cartoons and burbling away to ‘Sh-nowy’. He was wearing only his little t-shirt and thick protection, his yellow plastic pants crinkling noisily as he swayed from side to side in time to the music. He was ‘singing’ along to the melody whilst watching the colourful characters light up the screen. His mummy really loved it when she could see her boy enjoying himself in such a way, it made it all worthwhile. Whatever doubts she may have once had, they were swept away by the sheer pleasure he gave her and the unconditional love she could shower on him. # Once he’d served tea Gordon came and sat down next to Angela. She turned off the TV and smiled. “Hi, I’m Angela.” She offered her hand and he took it. “Pleased to meet you Angela, er, I’m Terry.” Gordon lied. “Pleased to meet you too Terry.” She noticed that his t-shirt didn’t quite reach to top of his jeans. The waistband of his clean but ancient underwear was just visible and his little pale tummy appeared more apparent because of this revealing gap. Perhaps it was just her but this made him seem even more defenceless. Again, Angela desperately wanted to wrap him in her arms and let him know all was well, to take away any pain or hurt he had suffered and return him to a life of childish bliss. # As they chatted the story that ‘Terry’ wanted to tell slowly emerged. If she really didn’t know who he was (and she hadn’t given any indication she did) he thought he’d spin a story of near truths. She asked him if he shouldn’t let his family know he was OK, they might be worried but he countered with the fact that it was his abusive family he was escaping from. He lay on the abuse, sexual as well as mental, which wasn’t too far away from the truth (although the sexual abuse came later and not from his family). However, the fact was that his family were a bunch of nasty, self-serving, money-grabbing, thoughtless, vindictive degenerates who had loved Gordon’s fame and the money that success brought so who went all out to exploit him, and it, to the fullest. The fact that it all but destroyed him didn’t even register on their collective consciousness, they just saw the money. # From where Angela was listening little Terry was struggling with his tale. She could see the emotion just pour out and watched as he wriggled uncomfortably with some of his descriptions. Of course she believed everything he said, and most of it was true except he left out certain pieces of the jigsaw. No mention of the TV programme, the public humiliation or his later encounters with people even worse than his family passed his lips, he kept it all at a family level. Since he was a toddler the constant put downs, malicious words, spiteful actions and the relentless air of malevolence had been his unceasing companion. No childhood bliss for this boy. No ‘sweetness and light’ mother to comfort and cherish him. Apart from the fact he was the youngest so obviously an easy target, the reason they constantly put him down was because he was different. He did have a spark of kindness, affability, empathy and understanding but this showed his family up for what they were. Whenever this side of Gordon raised its head, the rest saw it as their duty to mock and mistreat him until he they would no longer be confronted by something that was actually considerate. No. No. No. Parents and siblings alike goaded their innocent little brother into becoming a monster. Because he’d been successful on TV and was a celeb they encouraged him to get an attitude, to demand rather than ask and to be as awful as they were, unfortunately for him, he took their advice. That was when his descent into oblivion started. It was them he was terrified of and, although he didn’t go into too much detail, what he left unsaid, Angela was able to fill in those horrifyingly painful blanks herself. He alluded to other things since he’d escaped from home and how he’d really screwed up elsewhere in his life. Again, specifics were left to her own imagination. Angela couldn’t understand how such a young boy could have so many troubles but as the story unfolded the reasons became apparent. The essentials were missing but it left his host in no doubt that her guest was the victim of some shocking and disturbing events. At one point his tears flowed and Angela comforted the poor boy hugging him through the worst of this emotional black spot. The tears had been real when Gordon realised just how completely abandoned and destitute he really was. He was so alone and broken that when the opportunity arose, clung to anyone who seemed to understand his situation. # Alas, the last people he had confided in had been only too pleased to find such an amiable ‘toy’ they could use and abuse. His celebrity had been a bonus as they kept him prisoner and sexually used and abused him for a few days. By the time they had finished, the boy that was already broken was just an empty shell who understood once and for all he was worthless. Their actions, together with all that had gone before, destroyed his spirit. The feeling of utter uselessness had driven him to that final decision; the only way to stop his suffering was to end it all. Angela was in tears herself by the time he’d finished explaining what had happened. She was both angry and sad at what the youngster had been through and railed against how terrible people were to take advantage of someone else’s suffering; especially such a defenceless young boy. So, his reasons for suicide were powerful and why he was in no rush to let anyone know where he was equally poignant. He was so very grateful to have someone, after so much pain, to actually care. Because of her kindness and concern in his darkest hour, he literally owed her his life. He wanted to disappear but, and this was down to Angela, he no longer wanted to kill himself. # As the story of his hateful family revealed more and more dysfunction, she began to feel very protective of this sad looking teenager. She still assumed he must be about the same age Joshua would have been had he lived, fourteen, but never got around to asking him his real age. She did ask if he’d thought about going to Social Services for help but he shrugged and said his mother always said that’s where they’d send him if he ever revealed anything about the family. In their house Social Services was regarded as the enemy and a place to be avoided; full of stress, horror and anxiety, staffed by hateful perverts and certainly more unpleasant than what he was already used to. The bullying family had certainly planted the notion he’d get no help from them. He had a deeper fear of Social Services than of his own appalling family. He said he was scared of what might happen if anyone knew he was still around and begged Angela not to tell anyone. That fear of being discovered and sent back to a life so abusive he shook with dread as he pleaded with her to keep his secret. He urgently wanted to become invisible so that to all intents and purposes he no longer existed. He wanted time to think and hopefully find some solution and perhaps start again… though exactly how he was to accomplish this he had no idea. However, he smiled when he looked deep into Angela’s eyes, as far as he was concerned she had lived up to her name because like an angel she’d rescued him. It was an emotional moment that wasn’t in the least insincere; it was an honest reaction to what had happened over the last twenty-four hours or so. She felt it as well. # There was a bond between them and it was getting mixed up in her mind. One second she could deal with this teenager with ease, knowing what was needed and what to do. The next moment, she only saw her son Joshua and desperately wanted to mother him and keep him safe. He had asked what she did for a living, so happily explained about her ‘little baby clothes shop’. The mention of ABDL stuff was left out of the conversation but she did allude to her ‘growing’ group of customers and how much she enjoyed the ‘fascinating’ world of babies. She didn’t want to go into any great explanation about living on her own but the observant little chap had noticed her wedding ring so simply confirmed that her husband had died. She didn’t enlighten him any further and wisely he realised it might be a prohibited area for discussion. However, that maternal feeling had been getting stronger the more time they spent chatting and foolishly she was getting comfortable with a ridiculous notion forming in her brain. An idea that was simply not practical or how things worked in the real world. Strangely, it was a feeling she’d had from the moment she’d coaxed him down from that bridge. When she thought about it, she’d already done things that were primarily, if unconsciously, aimed at ‘Terry’ being part of her family in some way or other. Although she couldn’t really keep him from a cruel world, every fibre of her body told her he needed protection and she felt almost compelled to be the one to do just that. # They talked for ages. Time didn’t seem to matter and ‘Terry’ was able to keep up his temporary façade simply because Angela saw no need to doubt or challenge him on anything he said. Over a hastily prepared meal he explained what he really wished for was a brand new start. He wished for a place where his family didn’t exist, where no one knew him and somewhere he felt safe. He looked at Angela with his huge innocent eyes and her heart melted. Despite the fact that she knew she shouldn’t be holding such thoughts, Angela wondered how easy it would be to grant that wish. To keep this scared boy in her protection. To keep him away from railway lines and that feeling of futility she’d observed when he hung nervously onto that bridge. This was not the act of an attention seeker; this was the last despairing act by someone who had come to the end of their reasoning. It was the final act of escape. Perhaps she could provide a better finale. # Eventually, the chat got less and less as tiredness crept in to their conversation. It was time for bed. Angela realised that she hadn’t checked in the nursery or made ‘Terry’ a bed for the night and was surprised that he’d already made up the inflatable mattress. “I wasn’t sure if… after last night’s, er, accident, that you’d let me stay another night” He looked shamefully at the ground. “I’m really sorry about that but, well, er, I couldn’t help it, I, er…” “Not to worry.” He was grateful she had interrupted his apology. It was difficult for him to admit that it wasn’t the first time to happen and also knew he couldn’t guarantee it wouldn’t happen again. He just hoped that he would be able to get to the toilet in time. She checked the bed was made up to her satisfaction. He’d piled all the clean and dry fleecy blankets he could find on top because they’d made him feel incredibly comfortable and strangely safe. “OK Terry,” he appeared at least to have the bedding sorted, although no doubt his brain would take a little longer to be equally as well organised. Now she could see he was organised in some way that made her feel sad. She wanted to think of him as a helpless toddler reliant on her for everything. She also wished she’d been able to use some of the items she’d brought home from work; the pack of disposables and the large plastic pants. In her mind she already saw his well-padded bottom snuggling down under the fleecy pale blue blanket but alas reality returned. Angela had no idea how she expected to get him to wear such items but that impulsiveness to bring them home in the first place made her think perhaps it was something he might need. As it turned out, the morning proved just that. # Part 5 A dream may inspire - so should never be ignored Dr Aaron Livitt (1900 – 1973) “Oh Josh… er, Terry.” Angela was aghast at the smell of pee and the fact that all the baby blankets were soaked and strewn in wet lumps around the inflatable mattress. ‘Terry’ was just coming round and had no real idea what was going on as nothing quite registered at that point. Judging by the state of the bedding her guest probably had a very disturbed night. He also must have pissed a couple of gallons around the place for everything to get so saturated. The warmth of the room only emphasised the smell but he seemed oblivious to what had happened. # He lay there all but naked wearing only his soaked and stinky underpants as Angela busied herself in drawing back the blinds and opening a window. A cool gust of wind agitated the air and sent a shiver briefly across the wet boy’s body. It was that cooling shock which woke him up to realise what he’d done. In remarkable quick succession of expressions - horror, confusion and sadness - crossed his face. He knew he was in trouble, thinking no one would put up with an adult pissing the bed. Seeing ‘Terry’ coming to terms with his damp situation Angela couldn’t help but think she already had the solution to the problem. “OK mister,” she picked up a few of the soaked items. “This isn’t going to happen again.” Despite herself she admonished him as if he was a toddler because, in her eyes, she thought of him as a young teenager not an adult. He didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, guilt let it pass. Everything was soaked but any excuse he hoped to come up with was a nonstarter because there wasn’t one he could offer to explain why this happened for a second time. She looked in his bleary, almost tearful eyes and saw only despondency as he tried to emerge from a rather deep and what had been to him at least a rather peaceful sleep. Indeed, the last two nights had proved wonderful for his ability to sleep without any anxious thoughts, stress or fear. So, when Angela hinted that precautions would be taken in future he simply accepted it. “Yer, ermm, sorry, I, er, ermmmmm, sorry.” His voice was feeble and filled with dejection. He’d slept with a warm glow making him feel safe and secure; he hadn’t worked out that maybe that ‘glow’ wasn’t just an internal feeling but a physical one as well. # He tried to think why he’d pissed himself again. Once could have been an accident but a second time just seemed laziness. There were no dreams he could remember that might have caused it, all he could remember was that as he slept he was no longer concerned about anything. Indeed, the room was at a pleasant temperature, the fleecy blankets cosy, the bouncy mattress comfortable; he’d slept in a haze of utter contentment. He was at a place, and more importantly, with someone who cared, so, after the year he’d had this was an unbelievable bonus. He didn’t want it to end by alienating the one person who’d stretched out a helping hand. # The open window allowing a cool breeze to circulate the room drew attention to ‘Terry’s’ soaked underwear; his limp penis damply outlined as the white discoloured material stuck against genitals and pubic hair. He felt guilty and tried to cover up but of course Angela had seen all there was to see and wasn’t impressed. Guilt turned to apprehension, he certainly didn’t want to leave this safe haven and find himself back out in a world he’d so recently wanted to depart. She may be an angel but… even angels must have a natural abhorrence of pissy people so realised, if he proved too much of a burden, that he couldn’t rely on her understanding to keep a place in the house. He nodded at the inferred changes, although she didn’t say what, as she picked up all the damp stuff. As she inspected one of the scrunched-up, wet fleecy sheets a little sigh escaped her lips. It wasn’t aimed at ‘Terry’ but he caught what that sound might suggest. In fact, she was merely remembering when she’d bought it - the day after she’d been told of her pregnancy and in a deliriously happy mood had seen it in a shop window and bought it on a whim. # Angela went to the bathroom and returned with a hand towel. She pointed to his groin indicating his underwear needed to join everything else in the wash. Feeling greatly embarrassed he sheepishly removed and handed them over. He could barely make eye contact he felt so small, stupid and babyish. Wetting again had literally dampened any of the confidence he was getting back. She left the room with a pile of washing and a raised eyebrow as he timidly held the small piece of fabric against his genitals. To Angela this image just confirmed once again what a shy, innocent and tragic little boy she had under her roof. The room temperature had certainly dropped a few degrees; this was partly due to the open window but mainly to the shame he was feeling. Of course, standing around naked didn’t help. He shivered and wondered if because of this incident he’d have to leave. His body shook at the thought, whilst his breathing became strained and his chest tightened. There was a sudden rush of fear because he was scared of being out in public again… he wasn’t ready. His head was filled with worry and unexpectedly his panic attack resulted in something else. His bladder contracted and a stream of warm golden piss flooded the towel pressed against his lower extremities. “Oh for fuck’s sake.” # He took a shower and hoped to feel better when finished. As he scrubbed away the debris of his wet night, and surreptitiously wrung out the freshly washed towel, he reviewed the conversation and thought that Angela’s words hadn’t actually meant he was being thrown out, which was a great relief. However, he also knew she rightly had some concerns and decided to comply with whatever was requested. He thought it only fair and besides, for the moment, he had no better plans and nowhere else to go. He realised he needed her to continue to care. When he returned to the nursery everything had been picked up. All that was left was the grey inflated plastic mattress, which he’d found surprisingly comfy to sleep on. The damp sheets and blankets had all been removed and the place was left looking more like a child’s nursery than it had appeared before. She’d also given the room a quick spray of air freshener, which certainly helped. # As if seeing it for the first time he really investigated the room. The paper on the walls, the soft pastel colours and the images of baby animals in nappies were all really quite endearing. He was suddenly jealous of their innocence, half of him wished he could turn back the clock but then remembered his childhood hadn’t been all that wonderful. However, those smiling, happy images made him wish for better times. He wondered about the unmade crib and whilst nosing around in the drawers and closet noticed baby clothes and toys. He took out and examined one of the small white onesies that again was incredibly soft but so tiny only a new baby would fit into. He wasn’t sure if they were for a particular infant, or items from her shop. # She hadn’t told him about her lost child although they had talked about her husband and ‘Terry’ thought that perhaps his Good Samaritan might be pleased to have company for a little while. Although she seemed happy and organised he had wondered if she might be a bit lonely to have taken him in so readily. However, as he dried himself down he deliberated if she had kids of her own. She hadn’t mentioned it but the nursery setting meant she had, or was thinking about, babies. He was still thinking of that when he looked around for his clothes. As he’d arrived at Angela’s home wearing only the clothes on his back, his choice of attire was limited. He still had his jeans and shirt piled on a chair where he’d dumped them the previous night. However, also set out on the dresser, next to his phone, keys and small pile of change, were the washed white knickers and PJ bottoms she’d given him the night he arrived. They were a lot more comfortable to wear around the house so slipped into them and, barefooted, made his way to the kitchen. # “Angela.” “Yes Terry.” “My er, the spare room, the er, nursery… is that for your baby or stuff from work?” Angela knew that this observation would come at some point but was conflicted about telling the truth. “Mostly items from the shop.” She decided on keeping the real reason to herself, even though some of that stuff had been around for fourteen years or more. “I keep some things to check details, quality, you know, and make reports back to the suppliers.” She wasn’t sure if he believed her but it sounded plausible. “What about the wall paper?” “Er, well, er, it was like that when I took this place on and I, well, I thought it looked cute so just haven’t got around to re-doing that room yet.” She smiled through her lie hoping it would be the end of that particular line of questions. It was. # “Look,” ‘Terry’ said sheepishly, “I’m so sorry about all the extra work I made for you last night. I don’t mind doing the washing myself, I don’t see why you should be inconvenienced. I mean, you took me in and, er, this is not the payment you probably expected.” Angela looked at him in a strange and irritated way. “I didn’t… and don’t expect any payment.” She seemed aggravated. “You needed help and I was pleased I could offer it and… and… there is no rush on this… when you feel able to, I’m hopeful you’ll get on with your young life in a happier frame of mind.” The words streamed from her mouth but it was apparent she was angry at the very suggestion of some kind of payment. “I’m sorry,” ‘Terry’ gulped at the gaffe he realised he’d made. “I didn’t mean that the way it came out.” He looked guiltily down at his bare feet. “I meant, erm, it was a poor way for me to repay your kindness by giving your more work… erm.. er... Oh, I’m sorry if it came out any other way.” Angela was pleased that he was a bit on the defensive because she hoped it would end the ‘nursery’ discussion. However, the main reason she was angry was that some kind of ‘payment’ had crossed her mind but probably not in a way ‘Terry’ would have thought. She instantly calmed down. “Of course sweetheart, I’m sorry I jumped down your throat.” She smiled an apology. “Of course you didn’t mean anything by it and you don’t have to worry. You can stay here until you are ready to move on. We need to get you that ‘new start’ you said you wanted.” She ran her hand down the chastised boy’s arm in a friendly manner. “Now… what would you like for breakfast?” # Part 6 Take your destiny out of the hands of others anon Angela’s house was bigger than something a single person might need. She and husband Joshua had fallen in love with its rural cuteness and proximity to the city: it seemed to have the best of both worlds. After his death, and the death of their child, she couldn’t bear to part with the only thing that linked them all together, so she stayed and her love for the place had increased with time. She couldn’t imagine living anywhere else and, thanks to the huge insurance pay out, she didn’t need to find anywhere smaller. That was partly why she never re-furnished the much hoped for nursery. It was that one contact between them all and she simply hadn’t wanted to change things. Joshua, her darling doctor husband, had loved decorating the room ready for their first child. He’d done it on whim just two days after he’d been told the news Angela was expecting, and only a week before he died so tragically. No, the room stayed as it was and how it should have been. Those sweet little animals wearing nappies were just typical of her hubby. He was thoughtful, loving and soppy; all the things that had made Angela fall for him in the first place. # The property was a large, three bedroom detached house at the bottom of a cul-de-sac. It had plenty of land around it and the large back garden led down to a fence that separated it from a rough piece of common land full of weeds and tall grass. Downstairs the house had a large kitchen that led through to a utility room and garage on one side, whilst the other had a nice sized lounge and a similar sized dining room. Upstairs was Angela’s en-suite main bedroom, a small box-room, another family bathroom and a further two similar sized bedrooms. One had the nursery, the other, which would have been the child’s play-area, was full of junk Angela hadn’t got around to sorting out or throwing away. # From the moment she saw the young man about to commit suicide Angela’s submerged maternal feelings had surfaced. She wasn’t totally aware at the time but there was no doubt about it, she was definitely thinking nurturing thoughts about her guest. With the revelations about his life she became even more motherly and just wanted to protect the boy from a world that had so cruelly dumped on him. At work she’d been able to keep any maternal feelings under control. Surrounded by happy, weepy, terrified mothers (and mothers-to-be) she saw it as her duty to be caring but not to drown in the entire baby and baby clothing industry. One of the things that stopped her getting trapped in that hormonal clique was her ‘other’ customers, the ones who had a different take on the baby business. She loved the idea of grown-ups dressing and acting as toddlers or attempting to stem the rush to adulthood of certain children who needed more time. There appeared to be many different reasons for the ABDL community (she now knew her customer’s desires had a title) to want a shop like hers and was pleased to be able to satisfy that need. The mail order side of it alone had blossomed from absolutely nothing into a very lucrative part of the enterprise and Angela was satisfied with all the new suppliers and customers it brought her into contact with. She was surprised at just how big that particular community actually was and intrigued by many of her client’s requests, whilst being fascinated by the alternative ‘babies’ and ‘toddlers’ she met in store. # As word spreads throughout the ‘community’ these gatherings became more and more popular. On those special Sundays mummies and daddies brought their ‘little ones’ out for this brief, but much needed, social meeting. Kids, teens, and middle aged men and women, dressed in a variety of juvenile attire and often very thick protection, would somehow all be happily playing together, whilst their ‘carers’ looked on; exchanging stories, advice, buying new clothes and planning other more specialist purchases. Graham ‘Daddy’ Griffin was a rich, powerful looking man with a very gentle way of speech. He had two young teen boys he dressed as twin toddlers who always looked so sweet and innocent together. In their matching little outfits they would play together whilst ‘Daddy’ shopped. Their bulky nappies only partly contained in tiny shiny nylon shorts as the cuffs of their plastic pants peaked out from the leg-holes whilst they careered around the place. He lavished toys, gifts and the cutest of cute baby style clothes on them, which, as far as Angela was concerned, made them simply adorable. Since Mr Griffin and his boys had first entered Everything4Baby Angela had thought them the cutest of cute ‘families’. Many of her other customers played their part and acted as kids but this seemed more real. In fact it was very real and it aroused her curiosity. In a quiet moment, when she asked him how he was able to keep them so young and dependent on him, he confided it was down to constant positive reinforcement of their toddler status. Also, encouragement that they were both very good boys, a rather wonderful subliminal audio file he’d developed over the years and, he whispered as if it was the biggest secret of them all, “A file of Blueline30”. This last piece of information stuck in her mind. She had no idea what it was or what it might refer to but the name stuck. # Joshua was wet through. It was a Sunday afternoon and mummy needed to attend to other business so unfortunately had to desert him for some time. She hated leaving her Sweetums alone at all but occasionally, especially as the company was going through a bit of transition, it just couldn’t be helped. He had plenty of things in his large playpen to keep him occupied but for the last hour and a half he’d been crying on and off because his nappy was full and uncomfortable. Mummy had put him in an extra-large disposable with several thick gel absorbency pads in the hope that it would hold him until her return. It almost had but his rather cute little butterfly onesie, with matching plastic pants had reached its absorbent limits. There were four snaps at its crotch to hold the onesie in place. Unfortunately, the two middle ones had popped under the strain so her little bundle of joy looked like he’d had a medical accident. The huge bloated nappy had squeezed out of the gap and made it look like some huge growth had appeared between his legs. The butterfly motif on his plastic pants looked none too happy at being put under such stress. He stood holding the bars searching for any sign of mummy - his baby coordination not allowing him any chance of escape. Meanwhile, the pet lip and snivelling sobs made him one very unhappy baby. The TV was running a cartoon channel and the radio was tuned to a children’s music station, it was hoped that between them and his toys they would keep her little boy entertained until she returned. A low moan escaped the little chap’s lips as he plopped down, exhausted from all his crying and standing, hardly noticing the squelch as he landed on his padded bottom. The sudden pressure on his bloated protection burst the final two snaps and releasing his onesie, which flew up to his chest, leaving the startled boy staring at his swollen plastic pants. He didn’t know what to do so snatched up Bunny Fluffytail and clutched her tightly. Worried about the loss of his mummy, being alone and seeking some kind of comfort, he pushed the stuffed animal’s ear into his mouth and sucked. He hadn’t noticed that his dum-dum was on a ribbon pinned to his onesie just inches away. However, Bun-Bun’s ear was a comfort and eventually he sunk into a sleepy doze with his head resting against the bars of the playpen. # As soon as Angela had left for work ‘Terry’ cleaned up his mess, shoved it in the washer and tumble dried all the bedding. He really hated the fact that he’d wet and promised himself it wouldn’t happen again. He also wanted Angela to note that he wasn’t leaving everything to her; he was quite prepared to pull his weight, if she would let him. He found the vacuum cleaner and went around all the rooms lost for a short while in the sucking up of dust and worrying about nothing else. He left Angela’s room, thinking it would be a bit disrespectful to enter uninvited but made a mental note to explain why he had not ventured in. The house wasn’t in bad order but it was obvious that Angela was a very busy woman and had very little time for intense housekeeping. ‘Terry’ was happy to do his bit, cleaning the kitchen, organising the utility room and even ironing some of the items once they were dry. It didn’t take him long and once he’d plumped up the cushions, was happy to just lounge around with nothing more taxing than decide which TV channel to watch. # Whilst her guest had that to decide, Angela was in the throes of starting to make some significant changes to her work life. She had resolved that ‘Terry’ was too precious to leave to the vagaries of chance. He had met with nothing but abuse and harm his entire existence and was determined, one way or another, to change that for him. She was angry that such a sweet natured teenager should have suffered so much in his young life. As it was an opportunity arose for her to find out a little more about this ABDL thing that was now occupying a great deal of her business. A supplier had sent an order to the shop instead of direct to the customer. It was a pair of matching shortalls that Daddy Griffin had ordered for his twin boys so Angela put in a call asking if he’d like her to send them on or, if he was in the vicinity, perhaps he’d like to call in. He said he’d pick them up that lunchtime and, he added flirtily, if she was available he’d like to take her to lunch. Needing information she coyly accepted his invitation and hoped this man would provide it. # Perhaps unsurprisingly Angela’s most recent dream had featured, yet again, baby Joshua except with the face and teenage build of ‘Terry’. The dream was bizarre because this amalgamation of two different people didn’t concern her. In fact, in the dream, baby ‘Terry’ crawling around dressed only as an infant had appeared the most natural thing in the world. Even friends who were visiting appeared to accept this large child and everyone loved the cute, loving way he did everything. She’d woken up with this dream very much at the forefront of her mind and, together with the ABDL stuff she’d learned, wondered just how feasible it would be to transform Terry into a dependent little baby. Of course, she was having internal arguments about this game-changing course of action, but still, when she eventually settled the quarrel in her head, it ended up with Terry being with her but not as a teenager. That maternal feeling, the idea of being a mother and having someone completely dependent on her, was very powerful. Logic escaped her as she wondered if her ABDL friends and acquaintances might be able to help. She had no real idea just what steps, if any, needed to be taken, though Mr Griffin’s earlier chat about his boys had firmly planted a seed. # Angela had been unable to find any reference to Blueline30 on the net, although had found a great deal about various tones, rhythms and hypnosis. She’d read that for many Adult Babies/Diaper Lovers (she quite liked the term ‘Diapers’ but wondered if there was perhaps an English version, maybe the TNLL, The Nappy Lovers League?) their only involvement was the wearing of nappies and other childish regalia. For others there was a deeper need which liked a mummy and daddy relationship, whilst for different reasons, some needed to be coerced into a regressed but happier state of mind. This final condition of returning a person to childhood really appealed to her. She wondered about using a similar strategy on Terry and perhaps letting him once and for all, escape from the rotten life that seemed to have engulfed him. # She had taken to ‘Terry’ the second she’d seen this distraught young boy contemplating ending his life. Angela remembered being swamped with concern and compassion, feelings that overwhelmed her to the point her unintended emotions took complete control. She hadn’t known the backstory then yet everything she saw in those initial few seconds screamed at her to look after this boy. What psychic power, what interference from God, what blessings from above had suddenly entered her thoughts, she had no idea. However, she knew instantly she had to protect this child. Unbeknown to both the seed for Gordon’s /Terry’s adoption and regression had been there from that very first sighting. Her soothing initial words, that first understanding touch and the deep desire to be loved by the seriously scared youth clinging to the railings and about to jump to his death, had been Kismet. Fate and fortune intertwined, their future forever interlocked. Although neither was aware of it, both parties needed something, someone in their lives. The stars had aligned and their destiny became one. Gordon didn’t know it but Angela instinctively knew her life was about to change. She had a vision of that future almost immediately, why or where these thoughts /ideas/desires came from was unknown but they had assailed her in several ways. Somehow she knew that this grubby young teenager was destined to be in her life for a long time. She didn’t exactly know how but intended to see it through and hoped that the reason would present itself eventually. # Over lunch Graham Griffin proved to be wonderful company. For the first time in many years Angela was able to relax in the presence of another man. Not that she’d been off-hand or terrified in the past, it was just that there was always a guilty feeling that she was somehow betraying her late husband by even speaking with another man. Graham was different. He was polite, respected boundaries, was playful in the way he addressed her and wasn’t in the least bit pushy, letting Angela lead the conversation. As the lunch progressed Graham (they were now on first name terms) was full of praise for how Angela had taken Everything4Baby and managed to develop it so well. He told her how much it was appreciated by the ‘community’ that she had made space for them to meet and how clever it was to hold that gathering in the shop – the latest baby ranges giving everyone new and exciting ideas. They valued the lengths she had gone to in developing new suppliers, fostering novel ideas, encouraging innovation in parallel with her main business, and in such diverse ways. He also made known that because of her meetings, others planned on having ABDL gatherings at their homes or premises. So the group was becoming even friendlier and more community spirited. Because of this, he tentatively asked if she herself had such preferences, then immediately apologised for being so forward and presumptive that it was something she would share with a relative stranger. # She flushed a bright red and again Graham apologised for being so invasive but she waved her hand to indicate he had no reason to express regret but confirmed she herself had no such desires. However, Angela decided to tell him a few things that she hoped would explain her current interest in all things ABDL but first asked if this smart debonair man wore nappies and such himself. His face split into a huge grin as he laughed out loud. “No, no, no… I love to see them on others and I can understand why some love to wear them but for myself, no.” He elucidated. “My interest is in my boys. When I first knew about them they were young tearaways heading for a rather gloomy existence. Their past had been horrendous and they’d been horribly scarred by their juvenile life… parents, (he shrugged and sighed) an uncaring and hostile environment. I wanted to change that.” This of course struck a chord with Angela. “I’d like to say I did it for the best of reasons but, in truth, they give me far more than I can give them.” He looked down at his empty plate. “I fear I’ve robbed them of growing up to be noisy, naughty, mistake-making, uncaring teenagers, growing into adulthood.” He looked Angela in the eyes. “I love my boys and would do anything for them but I can’t let them ever be anything but toddlers. I’d hate the world to crush them and I have no doubt that the direction they were going, and the choices they’d already made, that would have happened.” He gave a huge sigh. “I can prevent that so they can have a stress-free life of nappies and toys, playtime and fun for as long as I have the ability to give it to them.” He was surprised after such a confession that Angela wasn’t being judgemental. She’d seen how happy and loving the boys were when she had met them on previous occasions at those Sunday meetings. How keen they were to do as daddy said and how polite they were to everyone. They almost glowed with pride if daddy praised them, which he often did, and they would giggle and wriggle in a joyously boyish way before getting back to their play. Graham confessed further that when he’d put the boys in nappies at the very beginning he thought they looked so damn cute and innocent it was difficult seeing them in any other way. It became the prototype look, the one that he based all other decisions on. So, that’s how they were kept, reliant on ‘daddy’ to change and look after them and for them to remain unsophisticated - pure and infantile. # Angela was more than a bit surprised that her lunchtime companion should have spoken so openly about his boys, and yet she understood perfectly. Was this not the way she hoped to help Terry achieve his ambition of a new start? Was this not exactly the same scenario that might just lead to complete contentment on both his and her part? She was excited to know more. Part 7 To reach your peak, there are many steps to climb Mary Rutherford (1701-1754) Baby Joshua snuggled up to mummy’s bosom, he loved the way she held him tightly - it was such a warm embrace. He wriggled blissfully as he sucked his favourite drink, his mummy encouraging each enjoyable mouthful, saying what a good boy Little Joshi was. She’d pat his padded bottom and slide her hand over the silky vinyl admiring the soft but necessary bulk beneath. Joshua had proved to be a very wet boy who needed his protection especially when he was getting ready to go ‘night-night’. The double fabric nappies and soaker pads making sure her bundle of joy kept his bedding dry no matter how swamped he got whilst sleeping. He squirmed some more as he finished his drink and mummy lifted to burp him before returning her sweet baby back to her loving embrace. Joshua settled his head between mummy’s soft breasts and gurgled his pleasure. Angela slipped a large silicon dum-dum in and let him slowly drift off, which he nearly always did once his darling little tummy was full of milk. Mummy purred and gently rocked him, not quite believing that her life was now complete. His innocent unconditional love and total dependence on her may have been time consuming but she wouldn’t have it any other way. She loved everything about Baby Joshua; his baby talk, his baby clothes, his smiling face, the way his eyes lit up when she picked him up and his lack of any understanding apart from “Mummy”. She loved the way he giggled when tickled and changed. She found that he offered her so much more than she anticipated – he was such an adorable little boy. # “What is Bluefile30?” Angela queried. “I could find no reference to it online so feel it’s something I should know about but don’t.” “Ah. I see you’ve been doing some research.” Graham smiled. “That’s what I call it. It’s a neural inhibitor but the title is so damn technical I can never exactly remember it all. However, it comes to me in a glass file with a blue line down it and it is graduated into thirty doses.” He smiled again as if hoping this explained everything. “Thus Blueline30… you understand?” Angela nodded but still felt none the wiser. Graham could see her confusion. “Erm, let me try and explain.” He lowered his voice and Angela drew nearer to be able to hear his whispered tone. “This drug has the mechanism to stop certain actions and responses that say, you and I take for granted, from reaching the brain…er… in particular the pre-frontal cortex.” He looked to see if Angela was following his line of conversation. She was very interested even if she did find it all a bit difficult to follow. He explained some more about the technical and psychological as well as chemical and neurological reactions this drug offered but ended with the phrase that stuck in Angela’s mind. “In return it makes access to the amygdala area, the area that has more to do with childhood, open up and respond to very simple instruction.” She nodded sagely but inside her stomach had butterflies – was this the panacea? Was this the actual thing she needed to fulfil her nurturing desires? She was enthused and needed to know more. # “It has helped me, and I have to confess one or two others, in taking our ‘babies’ back to a simpler time. It regresses the mind, breaks down resistance and makes the subject far more acquiescent to suggestion. Thus, when used in conjunction with positive enforcement, certain deep subliminal words and sound waves, it releases various pleasure neurons which make the subject very, very happy.” Angela was captivated by the possibilities and suddenly saw a real opportunity opening up in front of her. She was excited at the prospect of what she’d be able to do and what the happy result would be for ‘Terry’. The new start he wanted looked like it was a distinct possibility. “Is it safe?” It was a question that Angela asked but wondered if she was all that bothered about the answer… and she felt slightly guilty that this negative thought had flashed through her brain. “Well, Andy and Jamie (his boys) have been on it for some time now. The doses are a lot smaller and less frequent and my only complaint is… they’re just too loving.” She nodded but wanted further clarification. “What did you mean by ‘it stops certain actions and responses you and I take for granted’?” Graham leaned in even further and whispered his response. “The plus side - the recipient is very loving but the most obvious and immediate reaction to the drug is it removes any control over the bladder... and a little later… the bowel.” He shrugged apologetically as if he was offering a warning to the downside of the treatment. “So, a supply of nappies and all sorts of other protection is needed from the start. Being well prepared from the very beginning is paramount. I’m used to it with my boys so it’s not a problem but at first I wasn’t expecting such instant and dramatic results.” His eyes lit up as they always appeared to do when he referenced his boys. He grinned. “They constantly want to be held, hugged, kissed… and changed… I never get a moment’s peace.” He let out a huge belly laugh. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way… they give me a life that I love and I love my boys.” # Angela’s mind was buzzing with all this information - the opportunities and possibilities that had suddenly presented themselves. She had confided in Graham that she could do with some Blueline30 because of an errant nephew who was getting way out of hand. She didn’t go into too much detail but flippantly told him that it seemed a wonderful ‘cure all’ to such a problem. The boy had been a wonderful and beautiful baby, it was a shame he couldn’t be returned to such a state. Angela schemed a little by painting this ‘nephew’ in similar colours to Graham’s own boys – on a downward slope heading for a criminal future etc etc. She made it sound like unfortunately nothing could be done for him as he was probably too far down that road to self-oblivion. Graham had sympathy with the situation and offered (as Angela hoped he would) to get a file and bring it in the following day when he’d have the boys with him. She thanked him but tried to deflect him from thinking it was for her use by wondered if her ‘sister’ would go along with such treatment. However, she added, it might be worth a try. # Despite the excitement that was bubbling inside her about such a prospect she changed the subject and asked where the boys were. Apparently Graham’s sister was looking after them. They called her Nanny and she took as much joy from their childish ways as their daddy. “What a fantastic idea… to have a nanny… that must be such a help?” Angela was now forever on a quest for more and more knowledge. “Yes, yes it is.” He looked at his watch. “I’m sorry Angela but, help or no help, I need to collect my boys… and no doubt you need to return to the shop.” “Good heaven’s… is that the time?” She picked up her things and handed the package of coveralls to Graham. “I’m sure Jamie and Andy will look delightful in these… I look forward to seeing them… sometime.” They parted with a smile, a shake of hands and a promise that he’d return the following day. # Later that evening when she arrived home her mind was full of all manner of plans. She had already spoken to some of her suppliers and got quotes and given instruction for new specialised items to be delivered to her home. Angela could see the future from her perspective and was eager to get things underway. She was pleased to see that Terry had hoovered and tidied the place up a bit and that he had started preparing a meal for them both. “You shouldn’t have gone to such trouble Terry… but thank you… it is appreciated.” He was delighted he’d been able to please her. “No trouble at all, however, I didn’t vacuum your bedroom, erm, sorry but, I, er, thought it a bit presumptuous to enter your space. She smiled at his respectful manner and again thanked him for his thoughtfulness. The fact that such hesitation to do anything that might upset her was also pleasing to her plans. The other gratifying thing was – he was only dressed in her floral pyjama pants and a t-shirt, which simply emphasised his adolescent quality. Whilst he continued preparing the meal Angela went upstairs to change out of her clothes and to put on something a little more comfortable. Before she did she inspected the nursery and saw how tidy he’d made it and even how comfy the inflatable looked with its clean and fresh bedding nicely laid out. However, she was now full of ideas so before venturing back downstairs to join Terry for the meal she lay out a pair of semi-transparent plastic pants and a disposable on top of his bed. She wasn’t going to insist he wear them but hoped that he would feel compelled into doing so if she could make him feel guilty about wetting before they retired for the evening. # The meal was a pasta dish that Terry had cobbled together using a can of soup, and a mixture of ham, cheese and a few mixed herbs to make the sauce. Angela was impressed that such a young boy (she just couldn’t see him as a young man) had such culinary skills. There was a huge amount and perhaps surprisingly delicious, she was impressed that he was being so helpful. They sat and chatted for a while before she excused herself to do some work on her laptop and left him to watch TV on his own. She spent a couple of hours catching up and responding to email and other queries and was overjoyed to get a message from a firm that said they had the item she’d requested in stock. Delivery and erection could be made in 24 hours if desired and that the other items would take approximately four days. She was pretty pleased with the efficiency of this particular supplier but she had given him a great deal of business over the past few years. # Later, she returned with a hot drink for them both and they settled in front of the TV for a drama and the late news. However, once he’d finished it, and it was time to retire, she wondered if perhaps having tea so close to bed time had been a good idea. It was a very obvious hint but she didn’t exactly say the words about him not soaking the bed. However, she did imply that there were precautions left out should he want to avail himself of them. With that she excused herself, wished him a goodnight and climbed the stairs leaving Terry to contemplate what had just been said. He had no inkling as to what exactly those precautions might be so shrugged, took the empty cups into the kitchen, and washed them before calling it a day. He was astonished to see what Angela had left out. Under normal circumstances he’d have rebelled against such babyish items, even though they were the correct size for him. He had wet the bed twice and almost convinced himself he wouldn’t do it again but still there was a nagging doubt whether he’d succeed. However, the resentment that such items instilled brought on flashbacks to when his older brothers and sister made him wear nappies for their own amusement. # From a very early age they had used the fact that he was the youngest, and therefore most compliant, to entertain them by making him wet his pants. He was late to be potty trained and that seemed the excuse to continue his embarrassment. It wasn’t always his fault, often, as he slept, they would piss on him so that it looked like he’d pissed himself during the night. His mother, unaware of the truth (she wouldn’t believe her youngest son’s excuses over the united voices of her other children), so insisted he wore a nappy until she was sure he wouldn’t wet again. His siblings loved to humiliate him in this way and made sure everyone knew what he was wearing, often pulling his shorts or jeans down to reveal the cumbersome infantile fabric. The abuse lasted until he was thirteen, and a couple of times since then, but his family never tired of this particular joke. However much he hated the way he’d been treated in the past he couldn’t really blame Angela’s solution - wet disposable-versus-wet bedding - it seemed a simple choice. Reluctantly he saw he had no real option, if he wet again he dreaded being thrown out and the smell in the nursey was getting far too obvious. Grudgingly he taped himself into the well-padded disposable. It wasn’t the first time he’d had to do it but he’d hoped it would be the last. There was no mirror to check it was fitted correctly but it did feel tight on his hips. The misty vinyl pants were ample enough to cover his nappy and as he climbed under the fleecy blankets he had a happier memory. The last time he’d worn such an item it resulted in him winning a quarter of a million. He snuggled down with a smile on his face. # To begin with he felt most uncomfortable. His mind raced as thoughts of his family who’d stolen and spent every penny he’d earned, without so much as a thought for him, both angered and left him distraught. He’d become the ‘money cow’ (that’s what his eldest brother had nicknamed him) delivering money and being milked of it. The rest of them just used his name to get things and they abused other people in doing so. Many of the things that he was accused of doing were a result of his money-grabbing, attitude-wielding scumbag of a family but he got the blame. It was them who turned the public against him and it was they who had eventually killed the golden goose. The heat from the nappy and the frustration he felt made him boil with resentment. He tossed and turned, scratched and itched, he was sure he’d never sleep with all the thick, hot fabric and the diaphanous plastic pants surrounding his groin. However, like most teenage boys he soon found a way to help relax. With a hand inside his nappy it didn’t take long to get the release needed and settle down to what he hoped would be another wonderful night’s sleep. Whereas previously he’d been able to drop off without the slightest trouble, now his mind was working on making sure he didn’t wet. He had a fitful night, constantly waking up and being relieved, when he shoved his hand down the front of the protection to find he was dry… if just a bit sticky. This happened a few times, the last being just as the light from behind the curtains indicated that dawn had almost arrived. He was part dozing and part awake but pleased that he’d managed to get through the night with no accidents. Stroking the front of his lustrous pants his mind was relaxed as he slowly drifted off back to sleep. # Angela came into Terry’s room and was pleased that there wasn’t that tell-tale smell of urine that had been so obvious on previous occasions. She could tell he was still fast asleep but, because the blankets had fallen off the bed, happy to discover that he was wearing the protection she’d left out. She also noticed that the semi-transparent pants were bulging quite considerably which indicated the disposable had served its purpose. There was something sweet and childlike as she watched the slow rise and fall of his breathing. He squirmed slightly and his plastic pants gave off that rather telling, if muted, rustling sound, the bright blue indicator strips could be seen through the translucent material and his lips were shiny with dribble as he turned to face her. She didn’t want to break the spell but as she had to go to work and needed to set a couple of other ideas of hers in motion had to wake him. # Calling his name she gently shook him awake. “Terry, Terry… Terry, wake up love there’s something I need to ask you.” Slowly his eyes focused and he was aware of Angela’s smiling face in front of him. “Sorry to wake you up, I just wondered, if you’re up for it, and things aren’t too heavy… if you could do something for me?” He lazily stretched and noticed the blanket had fallen away and he was lying there wearing only a nappy and plastic pants. He made a scramble for the blanket to try and cover up but shamefacedly realised that Angela would have noticed that his disposable was expanded and soaked. She saw the embarrassment add colour to his skin. She smiled encouragingly. “Oh Terry, don’t worry, it’s better to use the disposable than have everything else sopping wet.” Her kind words didn’t really lift the gloom that he was feeling. However, he tried to respond to her earlier question. “What is it you want me to do?” “Oh yes, I think we need to make some changes to your room…” He noticed she had said “Your room” “So, if you can, and stuff isn’t too heavy, could you take the crib down to the garage and then, all the boxes in the other bedroom room need to be cleared out. If you could store them down there as well, that would be terrific.” Absentmindedly his hand stroked the front of his bloated diaphanous plastic pants as he listened to her request. Angela noticed, or maybe read into this particular scene, that his sodden nappy and slick vinyl pants were the focus of his attention in such a distracted way. There was something very innocuous about it all, as if he didn’t really mind that much. “I’m not sure you’ll be able to manage it all but any help you can give would be most appreciated. Leave what you can’t carry and perhaps this evening we can organise its removal together?” “Sure. I’ll do what I can.” He gave her a weak smile and hoped she’d leave ‘his room’ so he could be embarrassed on his own. # Part 8 Don't grow up, it's a trap! Peter Pan After he’d heard the door bang shut and car drive off Gordon lay on the bed and ran his hand over his bloated night time protection. There was no denying that it had done its job perfectly well but there was still a slight nagging resentment at the back of his mind - Christ he was twenty years old and shouldn’t be wetting his pants at all. However, he was pleased he’d made the decision to wear the disposable because he was sure Angela wouldn’t put up with any more soaked bedding. He lay there thinking of her words “Your room” and began to relax a little… that seemed very positive. He had no idea why he was wetting at night but whilst he did… perhaps wearing a nappy to sleep in was not a bad price to pay for a roof over his head and a kind lady who was doing her best for him? As his thoughts played with the possibilities his hand distractedly played with the soft silky mound; it was curiously sexy, childish and comforting and he enjoyed the sensation. He knew it was still fairly early so rolled over, pulled the fleecy blankets back over and drifted back to sleep. His dream was almost instant and found himself in a world where he wore a nappy and everyone was smiling. There was no shock or ridicule, everyone seemed pleased to see him and admired his cute colourful protection. This was a world without his family, the press, the trolls on social media… it was a very happy place to be. He was smiling a lot and, until he came to stay with Angela, it was something he hadn’t enjoyed doing for quite some time. # As mummy led him out Joshua was alarmed to find two others in his playpen. They were both smiling boys who were dressed like him - thick nappies, plastic pants and white cotton t-shirts with huge colourful but different dinosaurs printed on the front. At first he was a bit scared of these newcomers but one of them offered him a small but cute looking “dinoroar” (as the new boy called it) and then made him smile behind his dummy when he started dancing and ‘singing’ and pulling faces pretending to be the fierce creature. Joshi wasn’t sure but then the other started crawling around growling, soon all three were holding animals and making whatever noises they thought appropriate. Although the other two boys had a much better vocabulary than Joshi, they seemed more than happy to join with the youngest member of their tight little pack in just making noise. Mummy and Daddy looked on, happy that this first meeting hadn’t been the problem they thought it might be. The babies hugged and swayed whilst having a conversation that the two adults couldn’t understand but which the little kids did. Gibberish babble soon had the juvenile trio deep in playtime, where the newness of the meeting had been immediately forgotten. The huge plastic area of his playpen crinkled and squeaked, as they squealed and screeched, in a joyful fantasy of their own making. # Gordon woke up from his pleasant dream to find his nappy expanded to capacity. This time he actually remembered the moment just before waking up when he’d voluntarily peed, enjoying the warming sensation that followed. He couldn’t understand why it had given his so much pleasure. He threw back the covers and, despite being only slightly annoyed that he’d done what he’d done, was glad that nothing else was wet. He got to his feet and was amazed just how much his disposable held because it felt so big and heavy hanging in his glossy plastic pants. He was a bit thrown by his emotional state, whereas, only yesterday wetting the bed had caused him great concern, today, with it all contained, he felt bizarrely elated. Standing contemplating this turn of events he ran his hands over the shiny plastic and realised it was they and they alone that was keeping everything in. He wiggled his hips - the weighty bulk providing a peculiar buzz. He began to dread taking them off in case his piss just flooded out everywhere. Also, and perhaps inexplicably, he didn’t want to take them off. His mind raced to find some kind of rationalisation because he knew he should be horrified; had his family’s past exploits schooled him into believing this was acceptable or was he simply relieved that he hadn’t wet the bed and such a reprieve was showing up in this odd way? He swayed again, the morning sunlight catching his straining shiny plastic pants and for a moment made them glow – it looked like his groin was encased in polished silver. # Angela was full of plans. She couldn’t wait for Graham to arrive but in the meantime, in between serving her eager mums-to-be, managed to organise the delivery of her latest project. She hoped Terry would be able to move most of the stuff from his room and the spare room because she had big plans for both areas. Two young boys dressed in junior school uniforms were her first indication that Graham had arrived. Excitedly, the two giddy kids, looking well-turned-out in the uniforms of an independent school over in the next city – grey shirt and shorts, purple and grey tie and purple blazers, greeted her with a hug. She was just as pleased to see them as they were her and handed them both a lollipop, which she kept for just such occasions. “Tank yew Miss,” they chorused. As the boys hugged Angela she could hear the crinkle of plastic pants and could see the thick outline of their protection filling out their stylish little grey corduroy shorts. As daddy entered the shop she patted their bottoms and pointed them towards the latest arrivals in the toy section. “Morning Angela,” he beamed. “Morning Graham, nice to see Andy and Jamie looking so smart… are they going somewhere special?” “They’re visiting friends a little later but were very excited when I told them they were coming to see you first… you seem to have been a great hit with them.” “Oh, I hope so; they’re both very sweet boys.” # She was desperate to know if he’d brought the Blueline30 but was content to go along with the pleasantries first. Graham was a very easy man to talk to and even some of the other lady customers turned their heads to admire this smart and dignified man with two young children in tow. They may have been a little bigger than what you’d expect of junior schoolboys but the uniform was quite prestigious because this high-class learning establishment was well known at being sticklers for wearing the correct uniform at all times. The private school’s illustrious status also indicated that the wearers of such a uniform came from a very well to do family of privilege and money. To Graham this was just another form of camouflage to keep people from asking too many questions. Both boys were actually teenagers but they behaved and had the mental and verbal capacity of toddlers, which was how their daddy liked to keep them. So he’d adapted several outfits that the boys could wear in public that wouldn’t draw too many searching questions; schoolboys, cub scouts, football and other sports strips. Although he could quite easily have dressed them ‘age appropriately’ he was of the opinion that they would have trouble with their peers and that it would only add confusion to their innocent demeanour. Wearing childish clothing may have led to ridicule from their peers, though in fact it just made these older children not want to be involved with such ‘babies’, so they kept their distance. The boys didn’t know any different, like all toddlers, they wore whatever daddy dressed them in. As long as they didn’t have to answer questions things were OK. However, they’d been instructed that if anyone spoke to them they had to run and find daddy immediately. So far this little deception had worked fairly well. # Back at the house and Gordon was still dressed in his night time protection but had already cleared the crib and other bits and pieces from his room down to the garage. He enjoyed being busy, as well, bizarrely, the feeling his ballooning nappy was giving him. Quite a few times he’d stop and run his hands over the distended plastic mass and shiver with delight at this slippery marvel. The other room was full of boxes, cases, trunks and an assortment of old clothing. Still, he’d been asked to empty the entire room so just got on with Angela’s request. He struggled with a few of the weightier items but was determined to have the job done before Angela returned from work. He was also wondering just what her plans were for both rooms. He’d taken her “Your room” as proof that he wasn’t going to be kicked out any time soon, although why he thought he’d become a permanent fixture he wasn’t sure. The thing was, in just a very short time he’d come to rely on Angela as a ‘mother’ figure. It was true that his first thought was that she maybe wanted some kind of ‘toyboy’ but her approach towards care and understanding had definitely been more maternal than carnal. He’d dismissed the sex side of things pretty rapidly because of the way she’d shot him down when he spoke of ‘payment’. However, she had said that once he was on a more even keel, and felt he could sort out his problems, he would no doubt be on his way. This was the last thing he wanted. He definitely didn’t want to go anywhere and would do all he could to stay under such a caring person’s roof because quite simply – he felt both safe and loved. Meanwhile, as he looked around the now empty second bedroom he hoped that one of the rooms would include a more permanent bed for him. He let his mind wonder as to how he’d like ‘his room’ decorated and the bedding he’d choose… He had no idea what Angela had in store for him. # Quite some time before Terry arrived in Angela’s life the ABDL side of the business was already doing very well. The mail order had grown from nothing to quite a thriving little industry in its own right. However, it was the variety of people and interested parties this lifestyle brought into Angela’s sphere she liked the most. It was different, it was a little spooky, it was loving, it was cute but occasionally it was scarily innovative. Angela had become obsessed with how Andy and Jamie acted. They weren’t ABDL people, they were regressed teenagers who were kept as toddlers for their own good, well, for their daddy’s good actually, but she didn’t see anything wrong with that. All she saw was two big kids enjoying a carefree life full of love and concern. They wanted for nothing and in Graham they had a ‘daddy’ who would move Heaven and Earth for their happiness. Of course, the greater part of her ABDL customers were nothing like these two boys. They were grown-ups with certain childish desires but who in the main operated as grown-ups the majority of the time. However, her plan was to have Terry the same way Graham had his boys. This desire on her part had come to her very quickly once she had Terry in her home. It appeared that in just a couple of days, after the initial normal response to a scared and suicidal teenager, Angela, armed with what just could be done to people like Andy and Jamie, had set herself on an innovative course of her own. Terry needed love and by the sound of things, hadn’t received much of that so far in his life. Angela wanted to change his circumstances, alter his references, obliterate the negative from his past and let him experience unreserved love from the very beginning… his beginning… his new start. # Graham passed a small package over to her and, keeping his voice low, reminded her that it was important that the dose shouldn’t be exceeded. “An overdose could prove very problematic, you might never get your nephew back, and he’d be forever lost as an incontinent, needy juvenile.” Angela nodded that she understood. An email the previous night explaining Blueline30’s effects and how it needed to be administered with care had proved most interesting reading. He also gave her a copy of his own subliminal audio file to help in his conditioning. “Play this to him as often as you can and have it playing when he goes to sleep. You might find that after the first dose he will be easier to control and will respond more quickly to your suggestions if his mind already thinks a certain way” “You mean more childish?” Graham nodded. Angela didn’t know if Graham had already sussed that the drug was for her personal project but he never questioned her motives. In many ways Graham and Angela were very much alike; they had tons of love to give but had been deprived of that outlet for one reason or another. She had a great deal of time for both him and his boys. # Gordon was sweating profusely. He’d managed to clear everything out of the spare bedroom and stack it neatly (even if he did say so himself) in the garage. He let out a sigh of contentment at a job well done. It was 2pm and he still wore his soaked nappy, he hadn’t bothered to get changed thinking that as there was no one else around he didn’t need to. However, he was beginning to itch a little and thought it time to take a shower and change into some daytime clothes. Once he’d stripped he felt strangely naked without his full nappy. That thickness and silky outer skin had captivated him all morning and now suffering its loss wriggled distractedly under the warming jets. Perhaps he was just realising how heavy it had become and relieved now he’d discarded the weight. However, his thoughts were not on what he was going to wear once out of the shower but looking forward to hopefully having to wear his night time protection again. Angela had noticed the fact that he was wet so he did a little dance of pleasure when he thought she would insist he stuck to wearing protection later on. He checked his bottom and groin and could see that it was all looking a little redder than it should. He searched in the cabinet and found some moisturising cream and some talc and spread them around the glowing parts before putting on his underwear and the pyjama bottoms. His t-shirt barely came down to the top but he felt comfortable padding around barefoot exactly as he was. He even planned on making a special meal for when Angela got home. # Things were moving at a rapid pace. In such a short space of time Angela had made decisions, come to conclusions and put her plans into place to make sure Terry would have his new start. She was determined that he would know love from the very first moment and that that love was constant and unwavering. His new start would be just that; a brand new start from the very beginning. He’d know the love only a mother can give so she needed him to be totally reliant on her for everything. A teenage boy was fairly independent and Terry had been so far, even if it had all got too much for him. She would take him back to a new childhood and away from any grown up worries. She would make sure he got his new start and, armed with the file of Blueline30, couldn’t wait to get the process underway. As Angela drove home she was feeling well equipped; she already had the nappies, disposables, vinyl pants and suitable clothing for her ‘Little Baby Boy’ organised in the boot of her car. The following day the crib she ordered would arrive so that would be a very good starting point. She also had workmen planned to construct the nursery and then build the playroom – her new baby would have plenty of space for fun. # Later, after another pretty successful meal, as they sat watching the final news story of the night something happened that made Angela look at Terry in a most disbelieving way. # Part 9 Change me not the child, his purity is divine Rev Llewelyn Farnsby (1873 – 1952) “Concern has been raised over the whereabouts of former reality TV star Gordon Littlewood after a disturbing video has been uploaded onto social media.” There then followed the newsreader giving a potted analysis of his career featuring a montage of clips of Gordon’s time on ‘There and Then - Here and Now’ and a series of unedifying headlines about his downfall in the public consciousness. “The recently released video shows twenty year-old Mr Littlewood being abused by several men...” Angela looked at Terry in complete disbelief. How come this schoolboy was being described as a twenty year-old former TV personality? She was shocked but not as shocked as Terry who looked both sad and terrified as tears streamed down his cheeks. The newsreader continued. “…whilst his anxious family revealed there has been no contact with the former television personality for several weeks...” A further montage of photographs, including one of him dressed as a baby on the show continued. “His distressed family are worried that he may have been kidnapped, although no ransom has yet been received.” There was then a short but tearful interview with his mother who, fearing the loss of her youngest son was in a highly emotional state. “The police are continuing their investigation but anyone knowing the whereabouts of Gordon Littlewood should notify the police immediately.” # A stunned silence followed. # “What the hell was all that about?” Angela was very confused. “Terry, what is going on?” “Sorry, Sorry, Sorry” Terry’s apology could hardly be heard. His head was spinning out of control as his body simply submerged itself in anguish. He felt his life collapsing in on him and the wail of misery couldn’t be contained. Although Angela was mystified by the news story she’d just witnessed, there was a young boy next to her crying his eyes out and in desperate need of some kind of solace. She pulled him into an embrace and stroked his hair. Sorrow wracked his body and, in between huge gulps for air, all he could mumble was the word “sorry”. Even though she’d just heard that the little innocent boy she comforted was a television star and twenty years old, she found it hard to equate the two. Terry was a sweet boy, whereas Gordon, according to the news reports, was a vile young man. # Angela held Terry tightly until the sobbing lessened. Eventually he couldn’t put off his defence much longer. “I’m so sorry Angela. I’ve been trying to avoid my past for ages now… erm… I’m sorry I lied to you but I, er, thought, um, if you knew who I was, erm….” The words dried up as emotion got the better of him and he hugged her and wept some more. There was no denying that for Terry, the comfort of Angela’s warm embrace, made him feel safe though he was unsure just what this news would mean. Probably that he’d be on his way very soon, but whilst he could he wanted her to know how much her kindness was valued. Angela decided to stay silent until he’d said his piece. The Blueline30 that was just inches away in her handbag would have to wait now that a rather large spanner had been thrown into the works. The word ‘Sorry’ was mumbled in between Terry’s sniffs and blubbing. It gave her time to think. # In due course Terry was able to pull himself together and explain what she’d just seen in the news report. Yes, he had been on a TV reality show. He had won a quarter of a million and his family had taken it all. His mother insisting that his eldest brother looked after his finances, whilst the rest of them would be employed in other ways. He described the relief he felt whilst in the TV house away from his family, a few weeks of total bliss. The tasks they had to perform and the humiliation designed for the titillation of viewers was as of nothing compared to his constant violation at home. Once he’d won the show his family took full advantage and, he pleaded his innocence with Angela, that most of the bad press was as a result of his rotten family using his celebrity. Angela listened without asking questions. He looked so small and scared and despite everything, she could still only see him as a frightened and suicidal little boy - the fact that he was dressed in such a kiddie way; barefoot, floral pyjama bottoms and t-shirt only added to her concern. # He explained the video that had been uploaded and had caused the concern… and yes that was his mother showing how emotional she was about the situation and with a sniff added. “She should get an Oscar for that ‘caring’ performance.” He clarified that at his most depressed he fell in with a group who had recognised him and offered to help. However, all they were interested in was having ‘fun’ with this dejected celebrity so used and abused him in ways he’d really rather not talk about. Angela nodded, seeing how much pain he was in just telling the absolute minimum, she knew how bad it must have been. “I’d been walking the streets for a couple of days since they let me go… until you found me.” He looked at her. “I’m really sorry Angela but your kindness was the first time someone actually cared about me, not knowing who I was… it was fantastic… and I worried that, er, if you found out you’d like me less.” # Terry spoke a great deal about how much, in just the few days he’d known her, he saw there were kindness, empathy and understanding in a world which he’d been keen to leave. He told her that had she not turned up when she did, he would have jumped simply because he had nothing to live for. At the end of his story Angela knew more, understood more and didn’t blame Terry for doing and saying what he had. She wanted to look out for this sad young man and all that he’d described tugged even more on her heartstrings. His life had been rotten, it needed a drastic change, she was more determined than ever to give him the new start he so craved. Finally she looked him straight in the eyes. “OK Terry, er, Gordon, er, Mr Littlewood there is only one thing I need to know.” Terry looked scared but knew this moment was coming, the moment when he’d be kicked out and he’d have to sort out his own life without the influence of his guardian angel. “Do you still want a new start?” This wasn’t the question he was expecting and she’d asked it in such a quiet enquiring manner, not an ultimatum or in anger, it was more like a secret request. He was pleased and his heart skipped a couple of beats as he thought of a future… a future he was unsure of but at least he was going to get help from Angela in achieving it. He was happy. “Yes, that’s exactly what I want.” “Good,” Angela smiled. # The Blueline30 stayed in her bag. She had planned to administer the first dose in the final drink of the night. For the moment that had to be put on temporary hold as Angela thought about a course of action. “You’ll never get a new start if the police are looking for you so… I suggest you let them know you are safe…” “No, no.” Terry became a little agitated. “They’ll insist that my family gets involved and I don’t want that to happen…” “I realise that.” Angela was being very reassuring. She’d surprised herself with how quickly she came up with what she hoped would be a solution but first wanted to sleep on it, toss the idea around before revealing it to Terry. “You don’t have to worry Ter, er, Gord, er… no, you don’t have to worry. Trust me. I’ll be with you every step of the way and I won’t let your family, or the police, take you away.” It was silly really. He was actually over the legal age and could do what he liked. However, Angela still saw him as a little boy and the grateful look on his cherubic face didn’t detract from that image. Terry looked positively relieved at her comforting words. However, I think we need to sleep on it so… time for bed.” # She’d already laid out another disposable and a pair of pale blue plastic pants on his bed and whilst there had picked up Terry’s useless phone and hoped to get it to work. He was happy to see the protection and this time there was no resentment as he taped himself in and pulled on the sleek cover. Smoothing them against his groin he gave a huge sigh; one of relief, mixed with one of pleasure. He climbed under the fleecy blankets and bounced around a little on the inflatable bed as he got comfortable. Terry was a little more relaxed now he thought Angela was on his side and determined to help in some way. She popped her head around the door. “Terry, you’ve been through a lot so… I have this relaxing music I use if I get agitated or too many thoughts are rushing around in my head. I find it helps give me a good night’s sleep.” She plugged in the player and switched it on without Terry saying much but nodded his approval. Graham Griffin’s audio file started low. “I’m sure you’ll find it as beneficial as… well… it’s designed to remove nightmares and fill your head with relaxed thoughts as the gentle sounds register in your subconscious.” She said this in a rather airy, light-hearted, dismissive way as if she didn’t quite believe its qualities herself, but she was acting. She really didn’t need to go into any explanation, Terry was already very comfortable under his blankets and his smooth, slippery protection made him wriggle with delight. “Good night Terry, sleep well.” The door closed and the soothing tones and soft waves crashing against a beach added a calm and reassuring ambience to the darkened room. He fell asleep not knowing that although his nappy was soon to become a permanent thing; his days of sleeping on an inflatable bed were numbered. Meanwhile, his head was filled with suggestions and words of encouragement: He was very lucky, his mummy loved him, it was OK to wet his nappy, he was a very good boy. These thoughts circled his mind but the music was so appealing and relaxing it all made sense. # Angela’s workmen arrived early to make a start on the alterations to the bedrooms. Terry had only just woken up when he heard the knock on the door but didn’t know what was happening. Angela installed the workers in the spare room before looking in on Terry who was up and wondering what was going on. “Sorry about the noise. The, er, builders have arrived.” She said by way of explanation. Despite him standing dressed only in his night time protection, which didn’t appear to worry him at all, or that Angela could once again see he had filled his bloated nappy; he was more concerned with what was going on. He looked anxious again. “Sorry Terry, I was hoping to keep it a secret but, you know; now there’s little point in keeping it from you. The men are here to fix the spare room into a place more suited to your needs. A proper place to sleep and some space for… er… yourself.” Terry’s eyes lit up in appreciation. “Oh mum… er… Angela, thank you, thank you… how… fantast…” He rushed up to her and hugged tightly. “That’s so nice.” He weakly whispered… again overcome with emotion. She patted his soaked nappy. She liked this intimacy and loved the feel of his soft and slippery protection. He, also enjoying the situation, held her for quite some time. There was a warmth and understanding in her that Terry craved. Ever since that first touch, when she guided him down from the bridge, he’d desired her kindness and approval. Never had he been a recipient of such natural affection and in truth thought he was both lucky but undeserving. He didn’t want anything to change that dynamic… and now he was getting his own room, the signs were for an auspicious future. Angela broke into his thoughts. “It’s a nice day. The men don’t want us under their feet, so why don’t we get to work on making sure the police are no longer searching, or people worried, about you?” # As the workforce got stuck in redecorating, laying new carpet and building a large crib and playpen Angela guided Terry out into the back field to make their little video. She’d taken Terry’s phone and recharged it hoping that was all it needed to make it work; she was pleased to see it operated just fine once the battery was full. Angela had also spent the night doing her own research on Gordon (Little) Littlewood and was amazed at just how famous he was… once was. She was appalled at some of his antics and laughed at some of the stuff reported he’d done on the reality show. Yes his small stature and baby looks had certainly helped make him a winner - shame that it hadn’t lasted. # “Do you still have access to your Facebook page?” Terry wondered why she was asking such a question. “I think so, I haven’t been on for such a long time, I was getting way too many nasty comment I stopped using it.” “I understand that but, do you still have access?” He still didn’t completely understand. “Look, what we need to do is for you to make a little movie using your phone camera. You need to tell everyone that you are sorry that you’ve caused such a worry but that you’ve been trying to avoid being in the public eye. You’ve been depressed but now you’ve met up with some people on the same wavelength as you so are happy leaving the limelight to those who want it.” He was beaming from ear to ear. “Does this make sense?” “Angela, that’s brilliant… I can say what I like. Maybe emphasise I don’t want to waste the police’s precious resources, I’m avoiding my terrible family and that I want to disappear completely and have no wish to be searched for because I’m now happy away from the press and pressures of… everything.” He gabbled. Angela was pleased that he’d cottoned on so quickly and was enthusiastic to do his piece. She was also surprised at just how good he was at coming up with such coherent thoughts and expressing them into camera (she supposed it was probably something to do with the reality show he’d been on). They found a rather inconspicuous area in the overgrown field behind Angela’s home and rehearsed his piece a couple of time before she held the camera and Terry performed his bit. # The spare room was being quickly transformed. The team worked speedily and had the room exactly like Angela requested; pale yellow walls, pale blue ceiling, and light-eliminating blinds. The construction of the crib was easy to slot together and screw firmly into place, as were the closet, draws and the changing table. The playpen took slightly longer with wooden bars circling it to keep baby safe and securely in place. The last things they installed were the thick plastic mattress in the crib and a similar, though much larger one to cover the entire play area. Both areas were now slippery, soft, comfy, baby-safe and waterproof. Soon everything was looking good and all but complete; Angela herself would add the finishing touches. The piles of nappies, the colourful plastic pants, baby clothes, bottles and containers of soothing oils and powder, the room would smell of a well looked after baby. Images of babies in nappies were planned for a border to stretch all the way around the room as were smiling cartoon animals to match some of the bedding she’d already ordered. She couldn’t wait to install the mobile she’d bought when first expecting all those years ago. The room would be a wonderful haven for a happy baby. # Gordon Littlewood was suddenly in his element. He wanted to put an end to the police activity but thought they might need a good motive to stop looking. He took a great delight in listing the reasons why he was disappearing and laid the blame squarely on his scumbag (his word) of a family. He wanted to move the spotlight from him and onto that nasty group of tormentors who’d made his life hell. He wanted to make sure that the next round of newspaper headlines was about them and not him. He let rip. Comforted by the wet nappy he’d never removed, he enjoyed having such power. His mind raced to put all his grievances into a tight little two minute segment. Angela held the camera but couldn’t help notice that throughout his tirade to camera he wiggled and constantly played with his cumbersome groin… it was if he was finding comfort, inspiration and support from his nappy. The camera didn’t show that on screen. He wasn’t sure why but seemed to have gained confidence and awareness in himself and as a result, a nappy, wet or dry, was something he wanted and liked to wear. There was a happy glow about him now. He was buoyant and alive and this transferred itself onto the little video. He still looked like a young teenager but his words had been damning for his family and his desire to disappear seemed to make a great deal of sense after what they’d put him through. # Gordon was able to upload straight from the phone to his Facebook page and with a hug and a sigh felt that was the end to that part of his life. Angela checked to make sure his little video was correctly and completely installed on his page and with a look of relief congratulated him on a job well done. At the back of her mind she hoped that if they tried to trace back to the phone it would prove authentic but useless. Angela and Terry (he was still Terry to her) celebrated with a bottle of soda each and a feeling of total liberation; they toasted to a better life and a new start. # The line that was often repeated by members of the public was his reaction to the sordid video that had been placed on social media and had caused this search in the first place. “Those men did some awful, unforgivable things to me but that was as nothing to the lifelong suffering and abuse my family inflicted.” He finished the piece to camera wishing every one well and hoping that they would find the happiness he had found. Although it sounded like he’d joined a cult, the fact that he’d done nothing illegal brought any police involvement to a close. As an offshoot, it also increased Gordon’s profile and a desperate desire by reporters to get the ‘real’ story about Gordon Littlewood. The Facebook video was soon trending and became one of the most watched YouTube clips. His family were ridiculed and ferociously castigated in the press; the very press that had been so quick to vilify Gordon now held him up as a victim. New stories about him appeared - anything to cash in on his name now it was back in the public arena. An exclusive and syndicated interview would have netted him another small fortune but he was unaware of this interest because Blueline30 was now flowing through his bloodstream. # Once they’d confirmed the video had uploaded correctly Angela took the phone, removed the SIM card and tossed it into the undergrowth. “There, now they can’t track you down or annoy you anymore.” She gave him a conspiratorial smile, which he returned with a hug. “Thank you.” They toasted their success with a cooling fizzy drink, both relieved that it was now all over. Angela looked up into the sunlit sky and then back to Terry. “Things are going to be different from now on,” she confided. “Everything is about to change… for both of us.” # The spiked soda was already working and the unexpected loss of bladder control made Terry suddenly stand still wondering what was going on. The soft hissing sound of pee adding to his already full nappy, together with the sudden vacant look in his eyes, meant that Blueline30 was working as promised. Angela was well prepared. She’d brought a bag with various items she knew would be needed. Terry stood doubting what was happening but could no longer comprehend anything. His body shivered and a tear came to his eye, something was wrong, something had… He was no longer able to control his body and, as his nappy filled, all he could do was sob. Taking a change mat from her bag Angela spread it out on the ground and helped the confused and immobile teen down onto it. She relieved him of his soaked disposable and for the first time, set about cleaning up her baby. “There, there sweetheart… I’ll have you all clean and tidy in a moment.” She looked down at a naked Terry and realised that there needed to be a few cosmetic changes to his hairy little body… but all in good time. Angela loaded a disposable with extra soak pads and then taped the thick garment into place before pulling up some bright cartoon vinyl pants. Terry didn’t appear to know what was happening, his limbs, floppy and uncoordinated, offering no resistance as she went about dressing him. A colourful childish t-shirt and loose fitting cotton shorts added to making him look even younger than before. “Who’s my Sweetums?” She cooed and kissed his forehead, whilst patting reassuringly on his bulging padded groin. He looked so cute but there was still a slight strained, unhappy look on his face with weepy eyes and a cry not very far away. She took out the final emblem of his new life and slipped a soothing pink dum-dum between his lips. Within a short space of time, Terry/Gordon disappeared replaced by a nursing little baby Joshua. A new name and a new start, Angela wondered, if anything could be better. The Beginning ##### The End
  4. As the tech problem appears to have lost this story completely I have reposted the first four chapters in one go. I shall hopefully be adding more as we go along but I suppose we need to make sure this is all working again. I've missed keeping up with all the fab stories and looking for old ones that are quite brilliant. ############################################ My 18th Birthday “Stoopid, stoopid, stoooooopid,” I was so angry with myself for letting it happen. I was rapping my knuckles on my forehead, shouting and scowling at myself because I just couldn’t believe how stupid I’d been. I know I’m not the brightest person in the world but I should have caught on sooner and I wouldn’t be in the mess, literally, that I was now… sitting in. With a thick diaper stuck to my body, I disliked immensely the way the poop engulfed everything and made me feel both dirty and queasy. It didn’t help that I was being chastised for being “A dirty little baby” and made to feel that was all that I would ever achieve. Banging my head wasn’t helping as it hurt. I sat shaking in my pile of poo unable to do much else and began, as I so often did these past few days, to cry. No doubt I looked the picture of abject misery but, this is what the people had wanted and they were getting just that from my current display. * My name is Benjamin or Ben, never Benjy as I’ve always thought that sounded so childish. My parents are both quite high achievers in their respective fields; mom being an art historian and dad being a Biotech company CEO. My older sister, Gwyneth had her first book published when she was sixteen, her second did quite well and her third, Smart Moves, had recently been optioned for a movie. I on the other hand am basically just that, basic. I have no conspicuous talent. I cannot play sports very well (although I’m always game for a … game) and my academic achievements had me constantly in the bottom half-dozen or so. It wasn’t that I didn’t try, Hell; I never stopped trying as I had a great deal to live up to but I just wasn’t clever enough. Simply put, compared to the rest of my family I am DUMB, not gifted in anyway but, on the plus side, I would try anything if I could. Whereas the rest of my family have terrific jobs I’m stacking produce at our local superstore. It’s boring and doesn’t pay well; a group of Mexicans, East Europeans and me all work for minimum pay just so we have a job to our name. It probably is about the only thing I can do without mucking up but I’d like something better. But hey, look around you – do you see loads of bosses desperate to give high paying jobs away to the likes of me? You get what you’re given and like it… or at least don’t complain about it. I’ve heard being described by my parents as ‘over-emotional’ (although it’s always said as a whisper and as if I wasn’t even in the room). Obviously it is a somewhat dismissive term but I’m not sure I know why being ‘over-emotional’ is a bad thing. OK, I admit that I can cry at seeing kittens and puppies playing (in fact any baby creatures immediately win my heart) but it’s out of joy. I know I’ve been known to cry at some awful news story where people have been hurt or killed and I also seem to identify with the images of the starving across the world and yes, I am emotional and get upset about any form of violence. For a guy my age I watch very little TV because I find it too violent and the same with computer games. My friends, those few I have, think I’m weird and a bit of a ‘softie’ (although I’m sure they say much worse). OK. So I’m still living at home with Mom and Dad, when they are here, otherwise I’m shipped off to my clever author sister while they are away on business, vacation or whatever as they don’t trust me not to wreck or set fire the house if I’m left to my own devices. Chance would be a fine thing. * It was approaching my 18th Birthday and I was looking forward to some kind of celebration as all my other (few) friends had huge parties when they had reached this magical age. Alas, both my parents would be away on business for a month and my sister wasn’t interested in giving me a party. I suggested we go out for a meal, or something, but she’d just had some bad news herself and was in no mood for any kind of celebration. Gwyneth had just found out that her boyfriend of three years had recently sired a baby with another girl, whilst my sister had just lost her own. Her house was no place for merriment and I was happy to spend as much time as I could stacking shelves and collecting trolleys just so I wasn’t around her too much. However, one late night I saw her looking through an album of old photographs. She was smiling at a page that had some rather cute pictures of me. The one she was particularly happy about was of me, I must have been barely one year-old, sleeping and cuddling my teddy bear (Teddy), whilst wearing only a particularly thick and well-pinned diaper. My blue pacifier seemed to cover half my face but I looked so happy and contented hugging Teddy tightly. According to Gwyneth, I was always a happy, chirpy little baby, always smiling and rocking in my diaper or crawling around on some expedition that ended with me back where I started. * Eventually, as we settled together on the sofa she asked, with an air of sadness, regret and nostalgia, what it was that I missed most about my childhood. I shrugged and looked at the album, the page still open at me and my teddy bear. “That.” I said emphatically. “I miss having something to cuddle.” When I was five years-old my parents, no doubt thinking it was for my own good (or something they had read somewhere) decided to get rid of all my childish notions by throwing out all my baby toys and mementoes. Teddy went with the rest of the stuff to the goodwill store and I never saw him again. I was devastated and I know for weeks after I’d wake up wet both from crying so much and peeing the bed. The last thing they wanted to do was put me back in diapers (it was against the very concept of my growing up) but mom would only put up with wet sheets for a couple of days before she insisted I wear disposables on a night. Oddly enough, these became my comfort for the next few months until I was gradually weaned off my loss of Teddy and eventually back into pjs. Gwyneth took another look at the photo I was still pointing at. “You do look particularly sweet,” she said nodding at the photo and then half to herself, “perhaps I should get you something special for your birthday after all?” Now I love my sister, in fact, I love everybody. I try not to be nasty to anyone and I go out of my way to be respectful to my seniors (Gwyneth is six years older than me) and try and do what I can to help if they are in difficulties or provide a cheerful word if they look like they might need one. I’m no Good Samaritan but I do help out at charity events and the church if they need any volunteers. At work, on their charity day, I was helping run the crèche, organise the free food and dress up as a clown to entertain the children. I got extra credit for all my efforts and was able to get an extra 5% off anything I bought in the store that week. Alas, I had no money and there was nothing I wanted. * As my 18th birthday approached I noticed that Gwyneth’s mood improved, as if in some way my reaching this age had cheered her up. I was glad to see her a lot happier and we chatted long into the night about silly stuff and our family. She was telling me that at the moment she had a sort of ‘writer’s block’ (which after all she’d been through I could understand) and that she was glad she had her ‘little brother’ to keep her company through this trying time. I felt sorry for her having to go through all that but was pleased that I was there and in some way help. Perhaps my parents hadn’t been quite as selfish as I’d thought in not letting me stay at home on my own. The guys at work had bought me celebratory cake for my birthday, which we wolfed down in our lunch break. I received a card signed by them all and also received a load of pats on the back and ‘well dones’ throughout the day. You’re probably wondering why I wasn’t out with my friends or girlfriend, well, I don’t have that many friends and most girls are only interested in a guy with a car and I didn’t fall into that particular category. When I got home the mailman had been but I got not so much as a card from mom and dad. I suppose they were too busy but you’d think… wouldn’t you? Thankfully, Gwyneth had remembered and not only got me a card but a present. * It was the biggest teddy bear I’d ever seen. It was slightly bigger than me and had this huge blue bow around its neck just like Teddy had. At first I thought ‘what a stupid gift’ but then I remembered our conversation from a few days previously and, ever thoughtful, she had actually bought me something she thought I’d love. As I stroked his soft fleecy bulk (yes I named him Teddy as I’m that imaginative), his glassy eyes and stitched on smile won me over and I couldn’t stop cuddling him… he was so soft and… wonderful. Gwyneth was delighted that I was happy and we sat and had a meal that she had specially prepared. She even offered me a glass of a rather nice chilled white wine, which for once didn’t taste of warm sour apples like I’d had in the past, although I really wasn’t much of a drinker. After two rather large glasses I was quite giggly and Gwyneth was very entertaining. She took a few photographs on her phone of me and Teddy cuddling and kissing (yes I know but I’d had a couple of drinks) and she thought how delightful we both looked. Then she said she had an idea and wondered if I’d be up for a dare. I wasn’t sure where this was going but, with my inhibitions loosened by the wine, nodded and she suggested we recreate that image of me of when I was one year old. * I laughed out loud. She laughed along with me and then said that perhaps, we should ask Teddy? “OK Teddy, you huge cuddlesome beast,” she giggled like she was a seven year-old, “should Benjy…” Now I giggled like a toddler as I looked into Teddy’s eyes half expecting him to actually reply. His huge furry face and soft welcoming body oozed love and friendliness… this was a Teddy who would always be there for you… for me… and would never steer me wrong. “… should Benjy accept the dare?” She nodded then looked at me who was watching her and then looked back at Teddy. Suddenly she leapt up and gave a little shout “There,” she said emphatically, “he just nodded.” I looked back at Teddy and there was no doubt that his smile appeared to have got broader (though this might be down to the influence of alcohol on my brain) and he was nodding (again this might have been down to my sister pushing him with an unseen hand), either way, it was conclusive. Teddy wanted me to re-enact my photo. * I started cuddling him but Gwyneth said that I had to change first. I wasn’t too sure what she meant but she told me to follow her to her room. “OK, let’s do this correctly,” she slurred slightly, “We need you dressed properly.” I wasn’t sure what was about to happen but I was enjoying the silliness of the situation so went along with it. “Take off your clothes,” she waved her hand in the direction of them, “and lay down on my bed.” I was a little bit shocked at the suggestion but it was my sister and she wouldn’t be seeing anything she hadn’t seen thousands of times before, which she reminded me of as I slowly pulled off my shirt and dropped my jeans. “Yesshh, and your boxers,” she went off in search of something in the bathroom. Reluctantly, I slid them to the floor and then playfully kicked them off. They landed on a lampshade, which immediately made me start to giggle even more. “Now I’m an accurate kicker,” I half grumbled to myself. “Why wasn’t I that good when I played soccer and there were other people around?” * I lay out naked on the soft, feather-filled, cream and blue duvet that covered her bed and awaited her return; my bare dick not displaying any of its usual feistiness like it often did when it came to being free of clothing. I stroked it a couple of times but thankfully it wasn’t playing and at that point Gwyneth arrived back in the room carrying a thick towel and I guilty let go of my prized ‘toy’. “I’ll get you something else to play with later,” she mocked as she pretended to slap away my hand. I realised what she was going to do and thought “Why not go all the way?” so let her fold it into shape and slip it under my bum… although before pinning it into place she sprinkled some baby powder all over me. “Now you even smell the part,” she was smiling and that had me responding in the same way as I quite like the smell of talcum powder. Nakedness between us has never been a problem. Nudity was never shameful in our family and it was just ‘normal’ that we wondered from bedroom to bathroom naked as it was wearing something. As we grew up we didn’t hide ourselves from each other so it was really no big deal for her to see my genitals, though perhaps not so close up. Even though she hadn’t lived at home for a couple of years now I wasn’t bothered as she rubbed the powder in and then tightly pulled the towel up between my legs and pinned it into place. She pulled me to my feet and let me look at myself in the mirror. I was amazed at how thick the towel fashioned as a diaper appeared but, and I have to hand this to my sister, it looked exactly like the one I was wearing as a baby all those years ago. She was smiling. “Let’s go show it off to Teddy… see what he thinks off his little friend… his little Benjy.” **** Part 2 Though it’s a name I never really liked, Benjy just seemed appropriate at that moment. She took my hand and guided me back to Teddy who once again seemed more than happy to see me, even dressed as I was. Gwyneth was keen that we should cuddle on the floor (not me and her, me and Teddy) so she could get another photograph. He was so cosy and soft it was like falling into warm butter and, as I squeezed him tightly, his furry arms appeared to embrace me at the same time. There is something very satisfying about a soft, yielding bear that welcomes you into its arms and responds with soft fleecy tickles to your naked body. Everywhere his fur touched produced a wonderful sensation; little ripples of giggly pleasure and velvety reassurance added together with delicate caresses made me feel very safe... and very loved. There was one thing missing and I was surprised when Gwyneth suddenly produced the finishing touch. She slipped a huge blue pacifier between my lips, which I had no idea how she got or where it came from. At that moment I didn’t question anything as Gwyneth started organising and taking her snaps. It was no problem snuggling with Teddy and to tell you the truth I was thoroughly enjoying myself. This was the most intimate contact I’d had with anyone (or anything) since, well, since I was five and had my final cuddle with the original Teddy… and I appreciated this renewed relationship. * The room was warm and I was comfortable wearing only a made-up diaper. It fitted tightly so wasn’t falling down every few seconds and once Gwyneth had finished taking her photos, we settled down to finish our meal, well dessert actually. It was nothing special except a rather colourful ice-cream medley. We decided to have it sitting on the sofa whilst watching a late night movie. Teddy was just too big to sit with us so he sat at my bare feet, tickling them every time I brushed against him, which I did regularly, so I was smiling when my sister brought in the dessert in a bowl. She then did something we’d never done before; she fed me spoonsful of the stuff in between taking the odd mouthful for herself. It was a lovely tender and unexpected moment. At one point we were in fits of laughter because she’d offered some to Teddy only for him to turn it down. I think she sneakily nudged his head so it looked like he was refusing the creamy delight. “Well I suppose someone’s got to think of their figure,” she shrugged and we both sniggered like tots at that. The movie was boring and the wine had made me very tired so I excused myself and brought my 18th birthday celebrations to a close. Gwyneth gave me a ‘goodnight’ peck and I thanked her for a great fun night (I had actually enjoyed what we’d done together it was so unlike anything we’d ever done before) as she patted my diapered bum and jokingly said I wasn’t to wet, but if I was going to, then at least I was dressed accordingly. I laughed as I began to trundle to my room but she called me back and asked if I wasn’t forgetting somebody? Of course, Teddy. I picked him up, for such a huge animal he was incredibly light to carry, and we toddled off to bed. It felt strange having the thickness of the diaper between my legs but with Teddy by my side I wasn’t worried, I dreamily thought he’d protect me from whatever the darkness brought. He was my friend and oddly enough the diaper seemed to make everything feel as it should be. Maybe it was the memory of how comforting diapers had been after I lost Teddy the first time that made me not worry as to the way I was dressed. We climbed on top of the sheets together and it was so nice sinking into bed with someone else, even if that someone was Teddy. He was warm and welcoming and it wasn’t long before, clutched in his paws (and him mine) we were dead to the world. * I woke up from a particularly heavy night’s sleep. I was slightly woozy but I was still clutching hold of Teddy, I smiled and thanked him for keeping me safe. I lay there for a few minutes enjoying the sensation of Teddy against my skin when I became aware of the thickness between my legs. I pulled back the thin piece of sheet partially covering us both and saw the towel hanging loosely around my hips. I was quite impressed that I’d been able to sleep with such an unusual thing wrapped around me but apparently, it had made no difference to how I slept. Then I suddenly wondered if I’d wet myself. I didn’t feel wet but… I slipped my hand across the front and thankfully that all felt dry, then, furtively, I slipped it down the front and checked around my dick. “Dry”, I sighed with relief. I got up, went to the bathroom and had a nice long shower. I could hear Gwyneth pottering around downstairs and was really pleased with the way we’d celebrated my birthday. As the shower grew warmer I was thinking it was a birthday I’d never forget and beamed enthusiastically at the thought of what we’d done. It had been madly childish but I now had a new Teddy and although I was eighteen, I wasn’t going to let my parents or anyone else send him to the goodwill store. * Dressed in shorts and t-shirt I wandered downstairs. I had four days off until I was scheduled to go back into work so I was being comfortable and relaxed. The store uniform was a tight-fitting green polyester ensemble of trousers and a shirt; with my name and ‘CAN I HELP’ written across the left breast, it wasn’t the most comfortable thing to wear but no one could pretend I wasn’t staff. Anyway, it was something I was always happy to ditch the moment I got home and slip into my favourite casual clothing, which is what I now wore as I wondered into the kitchen. Gwyneth was making coffee, smiling and humming to herself. We exchanged the usual pleasantries but I detected a grin on her face, which meant she was up to something. “What are you smiling about,” I enquired. “Oh, nothing much except I did something last night I’m… er… surprised at the results.” She smiled but looked down as if she had a guilty secret. “Yes, it was pretty strange wasn’t it… oh… and that reminds me… I’ve put the diaper in the bin. It’s not wet. Well it is but I… er… just dried myself on it.” I said quickly defending myself against any thoughts to the contrary she might have. Her face brightened up. “No seriously. I didn’t pee my diaper, honest. I just used what was nearby when I climbed out of the shower.” I stammered. She could see I was getting slightly agitated over nothing but that smile was still there. “I believe you,” she tried to calm me and put her hand over mine. “Anyway, I’m talking about something else.” And she flipped open the laptop that lay in front of her. “See,” she pointed to a Facebook page that had an image of me as a one year-old and me as an eighteen year-old, side by side hugging teddies, with pacis in our mouth and wearing diapers. She’d put the damn image from last night online. I was mortified. Not only that but as a joke she had swapped the caption underneath so it read “Benjy at 18” under the image of me at one year-old and “Benjy at 1” under the other. “Take it down.” She was still smiling. “Please, Gwyneth, take it down before anyone sees it… I… I…” “Too late for that I’m afraid.” The smile never left her face as she pointed to the fact that there were 207 Likes and 44 Comments… all of which Gwyneth assured me were positive. I put my head in my hands and wondered what I should do. I’ve never been any good at getting angry and I don’t think I’ve ever lost my temper with Gwyneth so I was stumped for how I should really respond. All I could think about was the guys at work seeing it and them constantly referring to it. It was a good thing I had so few friends, I wasn’t on Facebook because of that, but she told me she’d set one up just for me. Also, she informed me that I was now ‘trending’, whatever that was, and the next time I looked the Facebook page had gone up to 297 Likes and 61 comments. * I sat quietly sipping my coffee but unable to eat anything at that moment. I had filled-up and I was desperately trying to hold back my emotions. I wondered what had possessed her to do such a thing but as she was sat typing away I thought perhaps it had helped her get past her writers block. She pressed the ‘enter’ key and sat back relieved as if she’d just completed an enormous task. “Have you unblocked yourself,” I asked rather ineptly (and weepily). She looked at me pondering what I meant, “Can you now write… have you got over not having a story or… whatever…?” She smiled and said that she now had an idea but that it would need my help to see where it led. She was trying to cheer me up and dig me out of my ‘emotional’ state with a bit of enthusiasm. She speculated that it might be a terrific change of style for her but needed my involvement and hoped I’d be up for it. I was still nursing my bruised and emotional ego; I didn’t really want 297… no it was now 314… people to think of me as a baby but I suppose it did no real harm. After all, I had so few friends to worry over and in fact, my parents and my sister were the only people I really had anything to do with. I liked the guys at work but… well… it was work; it wasn’t like we socialised much. Even school mates were few and far between, I only saw them when they were back from college or university or where ever. “I’ve just uploaded a few more images of you from last night to the page…” she spun the screen for me to see, “and already people are clicking the ‘Like’ button.” * Although I was frustrated with her attitude my sister had furnished me with something else for my birthday, something I would never even have thought about, my own Facebook page. As I watched the screen I was amazed to see the number of Likes and Comments that kept appearing. She smiled at my stunned expression and suggested that I should read some of them. I had no idea how to go about it but she pointed out how many Likes each image was receiving and clicked on a box that let me see the comments. Most were very positive: “Oooo look at the lickle babe”, “What a sweet innocent picture”, “Lovely idea”, “What a nice boy” and similar things. However, there were one or two more intense messages. Gwyneth tapped the screen. “I think maybe later we should take a look at these suggestions and see where they lead.” I shook my head and told her I didn’t think so but she begged me to reconsider as she thought it would make an interesting part to a new novel she was just beginning to envisage. This, she promised, would get her back on track as she could already feel her creative juices flowing. I still doubted the wisdom of getting involved but she told me that I would be credited at the front of the book for my ‘inspiration’. OK, she got me. How could I refuse my sister and such an opportunity to be recognised as someone who had given a successful author ‘inspiration’? * As I sat at her laptop reading the various messages she told me, as she slipped on her coat, collected her car keys and headed for the door, not to reply to any comment just yet. I just shrugged but I have to admit that my curiosity was aroused by just how many people, now standing at over 400 Likes and 83 Comments, felt the need to acknowledge my photographs. I know I was looking like a happy teenager playing with a huge teddy bear and wearing just a diaper but I couldn’t get over why that should create such attention. “Where you going?” I eventually managed to break away from the screen. “Just to get a few things from the store, I shouldn’t be long.” She smiled. “There’s plenty of juice in the fridge if you’d rather have that than coffee… and there are some English muffin’s if you want something to eat.” “OK, see you soon.” I did prefer juice and poured myself a lovely long cool glass of OJ before putting the muffins in the toaster. I grabbed the butter and strawberry jelly and sat at the laptop waiting for the toaster to do its job, the screen had gone blank and wasn’t sure whether I should touch it to try and get my pages back. I was curious to see how things had developed since I’d last looked. I waited until I’d finished my breakfast before I examined the screen again and hoped that by touching one of the keys I didn’t erase all of Gwyneth’s work. * A list of recently visited sites appeared and I was distracted to see that the latest one was YouTube. This was perhaps one of my favourite sites because of all the cute animal clips that seemed to occupy most of its content. I decided I’d like to see some playful kittens to cheer myself up and pressed on the key. It went straight to a clip of a big baby rolling around the floor with a huge teddy. Oh no, it was me. The clip started on my diaper pins and slowly pulled out to reveal, well, everything. To begin with my face was hidden by the big paci and it could have been anybody but as I played with Teddy and moved around the floor hugging and kissing him I became more and more identifiable. My mouth went dry, it was if I’d never even drunk that OJ, and I stared at the screen mesmerised by my actions. There was absolutely no doubt I was having fun, diaper or not, and from the occasional looks to the camera you could tell I was in my element. As I watched my body went clammy and I could feel those emotions of mine rising to the surface. As I happily played my diapered bottom appeared to be the main focus of attention – just what the hell was Gwyneth thinking? There were three different clips; two of me playing with Teddy and one of me sleeping with Teddy, which I didn’t even know she’d recorded. In fact, I didn’t know she’d recorded anything I thought she was just taking photos with her phone. There I was, happily snuggling Teddy with my arms wrapped around him, paci hanging slightly out of my mouth fast asleep and my white padded bottom looking quite prominent against the dark blue of my sheets. I wondered why so many people had commented and noticed that the clips had, even after just such a short space of time, received more than 3200 hits. There was a link to the Facebook page but now I was dreading reading the comments as I was sure they would be calling me a perv… or worse. I filled up with tears and cried because I didn’t know what I could do, I thought such notoriety would make me a laughing stock in town, perhaps lose my job and I’d never be able to look people in the eye again. * My bottom lip was still trembling when Gwyneth arrived back home. I hadn’t moved from staring at the screen because I was simply mesmerised by the images. She could see I was disturbed and dropped the bundle of packages she was carrying and came over to comfort me. The sobbing became a full blown wail as I buried my head in her bosom and kept on asking her “Why?” I assumed she hadn’t done it to hurt me but I couldn’t figure out why she would do such a thing. After a few minutes I calmed down and I looked at my sister through tear-stained eyes. She hugged me again and asked why I was crying. I was speechless that she could ask such a question so just pointed to the screen. “Yes, it’s you…” she asked with concern, “but why are you crying?” “What… what… what will…” I sniffed, “what will people think?” She just shook her head slightly. “They’ll think that there’s something wrong with me… they’ll think I’m…” I couldn’t finish my thoughts as I was overcome once again with a huge sob that gripped my throat and left me shaking my head in disbelief. “Tell me,” Gwyneth was now all very serious, “aren’t those really tears of happiness?” I looked at her in disbelief. “You’re eighteen. Eighteen,” she emphasised, “and” she pointed at the screen, “that’s the first time I’ve seen you truly happy in many-a-year.” There was no doubt about it those images were of me genuinely happy. When I was playing with Teddy I simply didn’t have another thought in my head apart from having a fun time with him. But I wondered, what might others think of an eighteen year-old running around in a towel… that’s a diaper? Gwyneth hugged me once more. “You, my sweet little Benjy, needed something. I wasn’t sure what to begin with but, and I’m sorry to say this to my little brother but, you needed a kick up the arse for you to start living.” I was stunned at what she was saying. “You are eighteen and just coasting through life. You have a miserable job…” I interrupted her and said that at least I had a job. “Yes you do, and I’m sure it’s fine in many ways but… I’ve never seen you actually happy for so long now. You seem to have few, if any, friends and mom and dad are no real help to encourage you…” The enormity of what she was saying suddenly gripped me and I felt that huge sob I’d been holding back in the pit of my stomach come out with force. I hung onto Gwyneth as I wailed and wailed, not this time because I was worried about what others might think but because she was correct. ***** Part 3 Later, when I’d calmed down, Gwyneth told me her thinking. She said that from the moment I saw the photo of me with Teddy as a baby there was an immediate change of expression on my face; wistful, thoughtful, with a touch of longing. She wasn’t sure but thought Teddy made me happy. I began to think back - certainly that time in my life, when I wasn’t regarded as anything but a toddler, when I didn’t have to prove myself and just enjoy my childhood… I was like everyone else my age… a little kid revelling in what was around him... I was happy. She went into a great deal of detail about how I tried so hard to live up to my parent’s expectations; they were of the opinion that kids should grow up quick and had little time for games and play – ‘read and learn’ was their philosophy. Unfortunately, those were the very things Gwyneth was most happy doing but I just couldn’t get to grips with. Reading and numbers just weren’t for me and I wrestled with school work, which I found very difficult no matter how I tried. My sister went on about how, even so young, I let failure weigh heavy on my shoulder, although it wasn’t always obvious because I tried to be positive and strived to be upbeat. Once our parents realised I wasn’t going to be a boy genius (they were most disappointed in my report cards) they more or less lost interest. They gave themselves over to their work and concentrated on their careers rather than what I did. Of course Gwyneth was way ahead in her development and they saw no problems there. Often I tried to read but once I’d open a book, if I got past the first two pages, well, my concentration level jumped to wanting to watch TV or go and play outside. Sometimes I’d curl up with Gwyneth and she’d read to me whatever it was she was interested in. I may not have understood everything but I think, without her, I’d know very little. When I thought about it, she did the job my parents should have done. It wasn’t that they ignored me, more that they tolerated me. I was their son after all… I zoned back in to what Gwyneth was saying. “You may not have been the cleverest in school but everyone liked you.” She looked at me very concerned and stroked my arm. She went on to tell me that even now I accept limitations but said I shouldn’t. She thought it sad that I didn’t have a girlfriend… or a boyfriend, she nudged me and smiled, but thought I needed to do something to break away from my ‘boring’ rut of a life… and do something to regain my happiness. “The recreation of the photograph last night suddenly brought things into focus for me,” she was on a roll now. “You seemed to become a different person, a happy person, a person who, left to their own devices… and given the right stimulus…” “You mean you thought I enjoyed being a baby?” I asked incredulously. She pointed to the screen. “Yes, just look at yourself. Even when you’re asleep you look happy.” A shiver ran through my body because I knew she was making some kind of sense and I had really loved last night. “But the diaper… what will people think?” “Well,” she pondered. “You may not like it but… I think that helped release something in you - something that has been holding you back. Last night we giggled like kids and there was no one around but us two to say anything or have an opinion about what we did. No parents, no workmates, no one to hold you back, so why should you let others inhibit you? Stop thinking about what others may think… they don’t matter.” Then she ran her hand through my hair and kissed my forehead, “And yes… even for an eighteen year-old, running around in a diaper… you looked pretty damn cute.” “But why put it all online, couldn’t you just have said something?” I complained. “It was just a spur of the moment decision. I wanted to let you see that the majority of people quite like to see someone enjoying themselves. People like all kinds of things to hide what they do and what they are, but you brother, were open and happy when you weren’t worrying about anyone else and I think others respond to that.” She pointed to the screen, “I think you respond to that.” * There were more opinions from my sister and, as she’s a lot brighter than me, eventually convinced me that this was a turning point in my life. She added that the comments online were almost all positive, occasionally cheeky but always interested, supportive and in some ways quite affectionate. Of course there’s going to be one or two people who hate the idea of others finding a way of having fun “Just so they can shit on you” (yep she actually said shit) but, and this is where her recent shopping trip had come in, she wanted to try and let me take that idea of happiness a little further. She’d bought a whole load of adult disposables and wanted me to spend the next few days wearing nothing but them. She persuaded me that I needed to get back to when I was at my happiest. To relive those times hoping to give me a window into what I needed to do to make me content in the future. I baulked at her suggestion but my sister has a way of getting me to go along with her plans so, guess what? She took me upstairs, stripped me out of my shorts and t-shirt and slipped me into a tight-fitting disposable. She took great pains to make the event something special; opening the package, unfurling the diaper, enjoying the crinkling sound as she spread it under my bottom. The wet-wipes and powder she used to clean me up (not that I was dirty or anything it was all part of a process), the silliness as I started to get a stiffy from her ministrations, which she quickly took care of by pulling the disposable tightly up between my legs and taping me snugly in. From her bag she produced a pair of plastic pants and had me climb into them after which led me to Teddy, who, during the proceedings she had found time to dress the same. How she knew I’d go along with her suggestion I do not know but, oddly enough, I was delighted to see Teddy dressed like me and it did make things easier. We spent the rest of the day playing games; me, my sister and Teddy. * Now you may think - well that was easy - getting me into diapers but I’ve spared you the long discussion we had to go through to get to that stage. She showed me loads of comments that had been posted by those who’d watched the clip or seen the images. As I’ve said, most seemed straight forward and nice but others were actually welcoming me to my ‘little’ side. I had no idea what they were referring to but Gwyneth seemed to understand and, more importantly, felt it was something I should get to know. Ever the author, she’d spent some time researching what it all meant and thought it applied to me, even if I wasn’t aware of it. She then showed me clip after clip of other grown-ups wearing diapers and having fun. People from all over the world and all ages, I was astonished there were others at all. A couple of cute boys in Japan appeared to have a site about their daily diapered exploits, one nice young man sang a song at his piano dressed in a thick diaper. There were so many – an old guy eating whilst in a high-chair, others drinking from baby-bottles and sippy cups or charging around whilst wearing nothing but diapers and a cape pretending to be a super hero. Meanwhile, as some played with toys several exhibited what they had just crayoned or painted. It was quite overwhelming and gave the impression that diapered and padded plastic covered bottoms were everywhere. It was a whole new world to me and one I had no idea existed but, as Gwyneth pointed out, they were all enjoying themselves and not worrying what anyone else thought. She convinced me to give it a go and promised that if I wasn’t getting any pleasure from the new ‘situation’ then we’d forget all about it. It was late evening when I was eventually diapered and, thanks to Gwyneth, I didn’t feel guilty whilst running around dressed as I was and cheerfully including Teddy in all my escapades. Suddenly my mind was open to fun - childish fun - fun that I hadn’t experienced, well, since I was a toddler. The truth was I was in my element. Weirdly, the wearing of a diaper and plastic pants (Gwyneth said it was my freedom uniform!) had no restricting effect on the way I behaved. In fact, she was correct, it felt wonderful to wear; snug, comfortable and the constant rustling as I moved around acted like some kind of soothing sound I found reassuring. Though it may have appeared very juvenile to anyone looking on I’d never felt happier, freer, or more content. The diapers, the plastic pants, the pacifier, indeed the entire ensemble gave me a feeling of complete reassurance. Teddy provided someone I could direct it all to, while Gwyneth was my guide and safeguard. * In the morning I woke up with Teddy and off course I’d spent the night wearing just my padded protection (another term Gwyneth used although I wasn’t sure from what it was I was being protected). My sister was standing over me and gently shaking my shoulder to rouse me from my deep and untroubled sleep and then, without asking, she felt down the front of my diaper. “What are you doing?” I queried as I quickly clasped her hand over my bulky protection stopping her searching fingers from reaching any further. “Just checking.” “Just checking what?” “Just seeing if you wet yourself in the night…” “What?” I asked incredulously. “Why would I wet myself?” “You might have… I was just checking so that you don’t have to be embarrassed if you had and…” “Stop, stop.” I waved my finger at her. “I’m old enough to get up and go to the bathroom, why on earth would I wet myself?” She smiled. “You don’t have to get all defensive. All I’m saying is… if you had wet yourself it’s OK I will…” “That’s not OK at all,” I argued. “I’m not going to pee… or poop in a diaper… YUK!” “Fair enough. All I’m saying is, should you do so then you don’t have to feel embarrassed about it. I’ll change and clean you up.” I was getting slightly annoyed. Even though I enjoyed being in my diaper I didn’t actually think about using it as a toilet. However, soon after she left the room for me to get up she returned with a new disposable and some other bits and bobs and told me I needed a change anyway. As I’d sort of agreed to wearing nothing but a diaper for the next couple of days she just shrugged off my half-hearted protests and unfurled the crinkly package. * As I lay there I was wondering - Why is she behaving in this way? We’d agreed that it was something I might like to try but wetting and stuff… in a diaper… I wasn’t keen on that at all, and then it hit me. She’d recently lost her own chance of a baby, perhaps the miscarriage was affecting her and I was now some kind of surrogate, someone she was projecting her unresolved feelings on? In that moment of comprehension my emotions welled up inside me again and I hugged my sister. After all she’d been through, still acting strong and in charge yet perhaps she needed her own way of coping with things. I was choked at the thought that if I could help, then I was there for her no matter what it took. Without making a fuss I let her strip off my night time stuff, clean me up (just as she said she would) but this time, when she had me lay out on the newly unfurled diaper, she added some extra pads before taping me tightly into place. This was a whole new experience and with the plastic pants now firmly holding it securely she led me down to breakfast. At this point I have to admit to being more than a little confused. I wasn’t sure whether I was doing this for her or for me but the bulky, rustling diaper arrangement meant I now had a wild noisy waddle as I negotiated the stairs but even that was funny and we joked about it. She’d cut up my pancakes and, although she’d put juice in a sippy cup, I stopped short at her suggestion of feeding me. However, I had noticed that my meal now came in a plastic bowl with cartoon animals smiling sweetly up at me and a spoon that echoed the same cheerful motif. She appeared to have gone to a lot of trouble to make me feel happy about being ‘little’ and I reluctantly began to appreciate all her efforts. * I was happy to wander around the house dressed as I was but when she suggested we go out for the day and enjoy the sunshine in the park or a walk up in the hills I was a little less sure. She told me to just pull a pair of shorts over my diaper and slip on a shirt and I’d be fine. I wasn’t sure about this at all as I was under no illusion that people would be able to tell what I was really wearing under my shorts. Her opinion was simple “Screw them” no one else mattered but me and, she whispered conspiratorially in my ear. “Don’t you think it would be quite exciting, Little Benjy doing what he wants for a change?” Once again, somehow, what she wanted I agreed to and before too long I’d tried on several pairs of shorts and jeans to try and hide the bulkiness, none of which fitted properly. I was beginning to see the downside to wearing padding and such thick padding at that. I was about to tell Gwyneth that I couldn’t find anything but in the end one pair of baggy shorts (I didn’t much like because they were too slack) managed to do the job and surprise, surprise, they were no longer loose. It was a wonderful hot day and I was more than pleased to be out and about not really paying much attention to what I was wearing. Although I could feel the bulk of it all I thought that the shorts hid what was underneath pretty well. We walked up into the hills and hardly saw anyone, those that did pass by just nodded or said “Hello” and carried on their way. We found a lovely shady spot where Gwyneth decided we’d have our picnic. She’d brought sodas, sandwiches and fruit but I wondered what I’d brought in the little backpack she’d given me to carry. She told me all would be revealed eventually but for the time being we should eat and enjoy the wonderful, peaceful surroundings. * The mass between my legs had made me waddle as we walked. It felt peculiar but I was getting a feeling of pleasure knowing what I was wearing, the problem was the padding and plastic made me sweat and I could feel moisture pooling at my crotch. Once we’d sat down Gwyneth saw me trying to rearrange the diaper and suggested, as it was so hot, I take off my shorts and shirt to let some sun and air get to my diaper… as I looked like “…a sweating pig”. It was true I was soaked and it would be a bit of a relief so I furtively looked around and saw no one anywhere near so I did as she suggested. It felt great being outside in the fresh air in just a diaper. Gwyneth thought I looked particularly cute and encouraged me run around and to chase butterflies as she got the picnic ready. I was aware that she was also taking photos with her phone and to be honest I was acting the big kid just for the camera. However, I didn’t know just how much I was enjoying myself until a little while later I noticed a couple talking with Gwyneth. I froze as I heard these two old people, both with walking sticks, making small talk about the weather and the beautiful countryside. They were looking across at me, waving and I heard them say that they liked to see a boy enjoying himself. So engrossed in my game of ‘chase the bugs’ I hadn’t seen the couple arrive but their sudden appearance startled me and made me do something I never thought I’d do - I felt a nervous spurt of pee escape. It was if my bladder was shocked by this unexpected visitation and reacted accordingly. I stood there stunned as they continued to chat and wave a greeting. Unfortunately, I was too embarrassed to respond even if no one else appeared to be. It was too late to hide so I just stood there, like a statue, about twenty feet away completely immobile and wishing I was somewhere else. Gwyneth called me over as the food was ready and inferred I should come and say ‘Hello’ but I was just too self-conscious. Eventually, the couple stopped talking to Gwyneth and carried on their way. As they passed by they smiled and said what a lovely day it was before disappearing down the hill. However, as they spoke, and without warning, my little spurt turned into a flow and no matter what my brain was saying to try and stop it, pee filled the diaper to complete my humiliation. The couple had obviously seen what I was wearing but there was no mention of diapers or shiny plastic pants, even though they were now an even bulkier part of my outfit having absorbed a great deal of liquid. * I waddled over to Gwyneth who looked at me strangely before I think she realized what I’d done. With a knowing but sympathetic expression she asked. “Do you need a change?” I wasn’t sure whether to admit it but there seemed little point in denying what had happened so I nodded. She lifted her hand examining the front of my diaper and said it wasn’t so bad and that it could wait for a while and we should eat first. Despite my embarrassment I was starving so plonked myself down on the blanket and set about the ham, cheese and tomato sandwiches (covered in mayo) with relish. ***** Part 4 Wearing a wet diaper wasn’t nearly as bad as I’d thought it would be and after a while, and despite the bulk, I’d forgotten that I’d wet them. After we’d eaten we had a game of ‘ISpy’ and a rather interesting competition of cloud watching; it really is incredible the shapes you can interpret into actual things. We were coming up with some silly and clearly outrageous suggestions and this had us giggling quite a lot. However, after a couple of hours, and several cans of soda, I was desperate for another pee. Gwyneth looked at me when I said I needed to go because I was searching for a private spot to do my duty. She just reminded me that I’d already used my diaper once so it would be silly not to do so again. I thought I couldn’t do it deliberately but Gwyneth pounced, rolled on top of me and began to tickle. Whether I wanted to or not that got the old pee flowing, and it is to the credit of the diaper’s absorption powers that nothing trickled out. * We lay in the sun enjoying the final few rays before we returned home. I wondered if I’d have to squish all the way but my ever prepared sister opened the little backpack I’d carried, emptied it out and there were spare disposables, plastic pants, creams, lotions and of course a supply of wipes and baby powder. I had no idea that was what I was carrying but, as she pulled at the tapes off my swollen diaper I was rather pleased she’d planned ahead. It was a relief when she removed the soggy thing. It had expanded to quite a size and again I was amazed that I’d been wearing that grossly expanded object between my legs and, perhaps more to the point, it hadn’t concerned me in the least. As she wiped me clean but before she applied the creams and powder a light breeze blew against my naked genitals and sent tiny ripples of bliss through my body. My penis reacted and grew under her deft handiwork but she just smiled, pulled the diaper between my well-powdered groin and quickly taped it into place; flattening its stiffness against my body and blocking any further thoughts I might have had regarding that particular bit of my anatomy. This time the plastic pants I stepped into were blue and I was dressed like that for a few minutes as we packed everything else away. Gwyneth took more photographs and kept on reminding me how wonderful and sweet she thought I looked. In fact, at every opportunity she kept complementing the way I looked and patting my padded bottom, which made me chuckle, I liked the attention. The day had been nothing like any other I could remember. I couldn’t remember ever doing this with mom or dad, days out were just something other kids got to experience with their parents. This was great and even in diapers, it had been a fantastic day… in fact I was appreciating even more the incredible efforts my sister had gone to for me to feel special on my eighteenth. * Back home we sat and watched TV for a while (her in her summer dress and me wearing nothing but a diaper and plastic pants), before she recommended I had a bath before bed - to make sure, she jokingly said, that there was no residue pee left secreted in any ‘crevices’. Normally, I have a shower in the morning and that’s it but her reasonable suggestion made me think it probably wasn’t a bad idea so off I went. I shucked off my diaper, which wasn’t wet, and happily climbed into the suds. The water was very hot but I could just about stand it; my sister’s lavender bubble bath I’d ladled in helped me to fully relax as I let myself soak for quite some time. It had been one hell of a day and as I washed my hair and gently scrubbed those all-important places I began to feel ‘playful’ again. Wearing a diaper had a major drawback for a horny eighteen year-old, it restricted (if not completely prevented) any cock and ball play. A toddler may not think that way but, now I was out of those confining things, I intended on having a different kind of fun. However, just as I was enjoying the gentle caress of my own soapy hand, Gwyneth walked in with a towel. I was slightly embarrassed at being caught in mid-stroke but she just smiled and told me that I’d wrinkle up if I didn’t get out of the bath. I was hoping she’d go so I could continue with my efforts but she just stood there, towel outstretched, waiting for me to rise from the foam. Reluctantly I climbed out and Gwyneth proceeded to give me the most thorough drying I think I’ve ever received; every bit of my body was methodically rubbed. Unfortunately, she ignored the very part of me that would have benefitted from such an enthusiastic massage and I was left more than a little frustrated. * She guided me to my room and of course her supplies were all laid out ready for me to be diapered for the night. I really thought that it would be back to my usual boxers and t-shirt to sleep in but obviously Gwyneth had other ideas. I was about to complain, or try and reason with her at least, but she’d gone to such extraordinary lengths so far to make me happy I wondered if this was perhaps another thing I thought I didn’t want but actually did. Anyway, the upshot was that she carefully applied lotions and creams, lashings of powder and an ultra-thick fabric diaper, which was held in place with two huge pink pins. Once again she slipped up a pair of clear plastic pants that snugly held it all together and, just as I thought she’d finished and was about to crawl into bed, she produced something else, a pair of footed pjs. I wasn’t expecting this and wondered how the hell she’d been able to get hold of something my size so quickly. The pjs were blue with cartoon stars and planets all over them and, as she fed my feet into them, I marvelled at how soft the fabric was as it touched and caressed my skin. Soon my arms were encased and she stood me up for the final action. The zip was at the back and stretched from hips to neck, which she closed with a flourish. Then we stood together looking in the mirror and it was an amazing sight. For a brief second I was stunned at the reflection; I thought she looked like mom and I was back to being a toddler, I was even holding her hand and, as a shiver ran through my body, and despite my size, I really did feel like I was back to being a little kid. I was speechless as Gwyneth gently led me to my bed, pulled back the covers, where Teddy was lying still dressed in his own diaper, and urged me in. I was dazed at this strange ‘mirror revelation’, a glimpse of my past that really shook me and, because I was distracted thinking about it, wasn’t even aware that she had slipped a babies bottle full of warm milk between my lips. As she held it to my mouth, and with my mind elsewhere, I naturally began to suck and closed my eyes as I rhythmically downed the entire contents. Later she replaced the bottle with my paci and left me cuddling Teddy as I drifted off to sleep after what, one way and another, had been a pretty eventful day. * My dreams were of Teddy and me and Gwyneth and me, where Gwyneth was actually my mommy and Teddy was my father… weird. At one point mommy (Gwyneth) was telling me what a ‘good boy’ I was because I’d managed to use the potty correctly but daddy (Teddy) was threatening to spank me if I didn’t wear my diaper like he was (yes in my dreams Teddy/daddy was still wearing his diaper). In my dreams I was doing all I could to please them both and each one was telling me what a ‘clever baby’ I was being. I woke up desperate for a pee. I climbed out of bed and made my way to the bathroom but once there found I couldn’t reach the zip on the rear of my footer. I tugged and tugged but for some reason I just couldn’t budge it, in the end I had no option but to fill my diaper. I argued with myself that was what the diaper was for, and Gwyneth had encouraged me to think of it in that way, “Just do it” had been her advice, so that’s what I did. To begin with it was a strange warm sensation, which I didn’t mind much, luckily the diaper and plastic pants held it all in and I was able to fall back to sleep relatively quickly. In the early hours I felt I needed to go again but this time I made no attempt to get to the bathroom so lay there and with little effort further filled my diaper. When I eventually did wake up the diaper was thick between my legs and my plastic pants where a shiny stretched reminder at just how much I’d drunk the night before. However, and this fact was a bit of an eye-opener, it didn’t worry me what I’d done. Just the day before the very thought had made me recoil in horror but here I was wearing a fully soaked diaper and not being bothered about it in the slightest. * I got up and sought out Gwyneth because I needed help getting out of the footer. She was already downstairs making breakfast and smiled as I shuffled into the kitchen. Another few photographs were taken as I asked her to let me out but she just told me to sit down and have the bacon and eggs she’d cooked before they got cold, and which had been cut into bite sized pieces. I waddled to the table (I was waddling everywhere at that time) sat down and it was a squelchy diaper that cushioned my bottom. Once again everything was served in the new little kiddie bowl and I was given only the matching spoon to use. My juice was served in a sippy cup and despite any doubts I may have had I was so famished I happily ate and drank the lot. Once my plate was clean and I’d taken it to be washed Gwyneth led me back upstairs to be changed. She tweaked the zipper and it easily came down but I informed her that I was very, very wet because I couldn’t get to the bathroom to go properly. She just smiled as I stepped out of my pjs making small talk about what the plans were for the day and as if changing an eighteen year-old was the most natural thing to do. I shucked down my plastic pants and the fabric beneath was saturated. She asked if I’d messed as well but I just made an “Uuuurrrghhh” type of noise to indicate no and she patted my swollen bottom and unpinned me. How she could be OK with all this changing business I didn’t know but I suppose, thinking about what I’d assumed earlier, she was substituting me for her lost baby… well maybe. I certainly didn’t want to be the one to spoil whatever fantasy or need she had at that moment because, well, I was still enjoying playing this game myself. * Gwyneth had been correct about there being a ‘little’ me somewhere inside and that the people online and who commented on YouTube had also noticed it so, I was feeling part of a pretty cute group. I liked the term ‘little’ and, as my sister had shown me, dressed in diapers had released me to be the fun person she suspected I was all along. With her encouragement being childish was nothing to be ashamed about and living an enjoyable life as a toddler certainly beat stacking shelves. However, work was on the horizon and I wanted to make the most of my time off before it was back to the grindstone. I’d even begun to think that perhaps I might be able to wear a diaper or something similar under my uniform but I was sure the outline would be obvious as the pants were so tight. I showered and Gwyneth once again got me ready for the day. She put a couple of pads in the disposable and pulled up the clear plastic pants. She pointed to a mark on the front and told me that, if I wet them, then the mark would change colour and she could check without me saying anything if I needed changing. Then she pulled out a new yellow t-shirt with tiny toy rocking horses all over them and slipped it over my head. Although I did a sort of double-take because it looked so childish she then produced a matching pair of shorts which she quickly fed my legs into and pulled up to my waist. Again that feeling of just being a little kid with mommy dressing me coursed through my body and I stood transfixed by my new outfit. Although I was eighteen I wasn’t a large teenager, in fact, Gwyneth was a good two inches taller than me and looked much bigger. However, I didn’t get chance to be pleased or complain because Gwyneth was guiding my crinkling butt down the stairs and out to the car. * I had no idea where we were going but Gwyneth was telling me about some of the online comments she had read. According to her, loads of them had said that it was best to make the ‘little one’ happy and comfortable in clothes that were soft, colourful and reminded them of when they were a toddler. Toys and colouring books were also an important aspect to all this so that’s where we were going now, to a mall that had a huge toy store. For every reason I put up not to go (especially dressed as I was) she had a comment that said the opposite. There was no doubt that the bulky diaper I was sitting on was a constant reminder of what I liked and perhaps surprisingly I found the hugging of my hips and groin very pleasing. However, although I quite liked it I thought my little yellow outfit was maybe going too far to be seen in public. Gwyneth said I shouldn’t worry, everything would be alright and was convinced no one would say a thing. I doubted that and remained silent for the rest of the journey. * In the silence I began to think. How come she had a footer my size? How come she had this outfit ready? How come she had a paci, bowl, diapers and plastic…? Just as my suspicions were growing I suddenly got a pain in my stomach. I groaned and Gwyneth asked me what was wrong. I tried to tell her about the pain but almost instantaneously my guts started to churn. I begged Gwyneth to pull over as I needed to go to the bathroom but she said there wasn’t one nearby. She said that I should just pee in the diaper but I moaned I thought it might be more than that. “OK, just hold on we’re not far away.” She said with concern etched on her face. Unfortunately, the turmoil in my stomach wasn’t open to any constraints from me and I couldn’t hold back. With a loud wet fart the contents of my bowel erupted into my diaper and I was crying in humiliation and disgust as wave after wave of poop exited my bottom. The smell in the car was awful and Gwyneth had to roll down the window to get us both some air. I sat in my own rapidly filling diaper stunned at what was happening. As soon as my guts exploded the pain had instantly gone but I was mortified by the strange and disgusting feeling in my pants… my emotions took over and there were more tears. A couple of minutes later and we arrived at the mall but I thought in my state I just couldn’t leave the car. However, she insisted that I couldn’t just sit in the mess and that I wasn’t to worry she’d have me cleaned up in no time. She grabbed my hand and led me crying and gingerly waddling towards Toys’r’Us, which was the first store in the mall nearest to where we parked. There were a few kids already looking at toys with their parents but Gwyneth led me straight to the baby changing area. It was empty when we went in and although I was crying and embarrassed I let her take charge. My little shorts were pulled off, which thankfully were still clean, she then tentatively shimmied the plastic pants down to reveal my bloated and discoloured disposable. Mercifully, the extra padding had absorbed most of the liquid but I was still a mess. She quickly stripped me out of it all and, with barely any acknowledgement to the smell, set about cleaning me up. I hadn’t noticed the large bag she was carrying but as she lay me out on one of the counters, she opened it up to reveal a host of stuff she’d need to fix me. First she used toilet paper and then going over to the sink soaped up a cloth she’d brought and began to wipe away the debris. I was still sniffling when someone else came in. A woman with a baby took one look at me, looked pityingly at Gwyneth and then set about changing her own child. My clean-up took quite some time and during that period I lay there motionless, self-conscious and desperate not to make eye contact with any of the other patrons using the facilities. * A lady with a boy aged about ten came in, found the empty table next to mine and stripped her son out of his shortalls by simply popping some studs at his crotch, laying him out and then popping the studs on his cute cartoon plastic pants, which instantly gave her easy access to his soaked diaper. Gwyneth watched how easily it all appeared and asked the lady where she had bought her boy’s shortalls. After a brief discussion about their usefulness and hardwearing properties (“Just the thing for an active boy”) she made a note of the name she’d been given, thanked her and resumed my re-diapering. The young boy and I were finished together. Gwyneth pulled up my yellow shorts as his mother finished pressing the last few poppers back together. He bashfully smiled at me as his mum picked him up, patted his freshly padded bottom and they set off to finish their shopping… and quite unexpectedly I cautiously waved back. The young boy’s attitude to being changed in public had stopped me blubbing as he seemed untroubled by the process. That sweet little smile had really got to me and I wished we could play together. I was no longer thinking of our age difference only what we had in common and we both wore diapers and had accidents in them. It was a revelation and suddenly I didn’t feel so self-conscious. * Once Gwyneth had packed all her stuff away, and before we left the bathroom, she asked if I was OK. Now I was clean, dry and wearing my thick ‘protection’ (now I knew what Gwyneth had meant by that term) I was comfortable and quite happy to continue. “Good,” she said as she patted my freshly padded bottom and we entered the main part of the store. The array of toys was spellbinding. Mom and dad had never been keen on my playing with such childish things and because Gwyneth, even as a youngster, preferred to read, I wasn’t encouraged or given many toys to play with. As we toured the aisles I was spoilt for choice, I just didn’t know what to get for the best. Over in the kids play area right next to the store I saw the young boy from earlier running around with some younger kids sliding into the ball pit, running on the rope bridge and playing on the JungleGym. He noticed me and waved again and it was the first time I noticed that his diaper was really quite obvious and thick. However, he seemed unconcerned as he smiled, whooped with pleasure and chased some other kids into another part of the ‘playzone’. * Sitting on the floor in front of a plastic toy garage was another guy, perhaps a few years older than me, seeing how the wind-up lift worked that took the toy cars to the top to let them zigzag down again. He was wearing denim shorts but because he was bent over there was no hiding the top of his diaper from showing above the waistband. As I walked past he looked up and smiled, whilst running one of the four vehicles scattered around him along the ground and making car noises. “That looks fun,” I said and he invited me to join him on the floor. He was a lot older than his clothes would have suggested; he had a huge cartoon character on the front of his sweatshirt and his socks also had the same image festooned all over them. His sneakers had lights in the heel which flashed as he walked and he spoke, well, like a toddler. He was both shy and enthusiastic to have someone to play with but then I saw an older man approach who asked him if he’d made a friend. Gwyneth and the man got talking as we played together and inspected all the secrets that the garage contained. I didn’t hear what they were saying because my new friend grabbed my hand and took me to another aisle to look at the latest huge toy castle that he said his ‘dada’ was going to buy him. His voice was soft, as if he didn’t want anyone to notice him, but he was enthusiastic as he explained all the fantastic things the castle contained and all the dragons, monsters and soldiers you could get to do battle. He seemed so excited but then his ‘dada’ called him and he went rushing off to hold his hand. Even though he was older than me he acted like a little kid; shyly holding his ‘dada’s’ hand and swinging a foot whilst he waited for him to stop chatting with Gwyneth. I have to admit, knowing he was wearing a diaper like me was heart-warming, he looked so sweet and just as at ease as the ten year-old boy had been. I sat where I was inspecting the massive plastic castle with all its turrets and towers and wondered if I should get one. He’d fired my imagination and I liked the idea of dragons and knights and fantastic mythical encounters. A few moments later Gwyneth called me but I hadn’t made up my mind. We spent a good couple of hours looking at everything but I really wished I could play in the kids Playzone with all the other children as it looked fun. However, I realised that it just wasn’t built for someone my size and I’d just have to watch. After the two encounters with other ‘older’ diaper wearers, now I was all clean and tidy myself I never gave what I was wearing much thought and it was only the knowing smile from an adult, or a gawping look from a toddler that occasionally made me hesitate. However, I had work to do and decisions to make and they didn’t come easily. In the end I settled on some cars, a large truck and loads of little figures and colouring books from the latest Pixar movie. ***** Tbc
  5. The adventures of Alex Who was Alex? Well Alex was what most people thought was a young man entering in the big wide world, free from school and the restraints that they had held over him. For many years he had been told what to do, when to do it and always by others. He had grown up under the strong influence of his mother, whom he loved dearly, but he could never bring himself to tell her his deep down secrets and desires. Alex had been late developing into the young man he was growing into, he was shorter than most, well everyone for his age, his voice had never broken and a genetic disorder had meant that he never grew body hair, only his head held the natural blonde locks that matched his mother. He had been slow to be potty trained, still wetting at night after control during the daytime had been achieved. He was just told by his mother that over time it would sort itself out, but his nigh time wetting would be taken care of by her. So for many years after, night after night, Alex's mother was there to make sure he went to sleep in a nappy and plastic pants, then as time moved on a disposable nappy. Alex's mother was a hard working lady, well respected in the business community, with many friends, but still loved her son more than anything else. She was 6ft tall and literally towered over her son; she made sure that she kept fit, using the gym in the house and the pool on her days off and at weekends. Having made a success of her business at a young age, she always made time for Alex, her mother helping to look after him while he was still a baby. By the time that he was ready for school, she was the one to take him and pick him up every day. This would seem odd to a lot of people as it carried on until he left school, some would have thought him a little mummy’s boy, had it not been for the fact that they lived in the countryside outside the main town and off the bus route. He had his friends in school and got on ok with them, more so with the girls if he where honest about it, but rarely did one ever visit his home, sleepovers being out of the question as he felt too conscious about the bedwetting. When he was younger, at nursery school, he had a few parties as wetting problems happened with a few at that age, so he didn't stand out from the others. So Alex was now free from the restraint of school and just about to turn 18 years old, his mother had asked him if he wanted a party, but he never really was the party person. Instead he asked if he could have a vacation somewhere quiet away from the world, but by the sea, where he could just chill out and relax away from everything. There he would have time to think about what his future held, decide what to go on to do regarding work or further education. But also he would have some time alone to let his little side out. This was Alex's big secret that he hoped no-one had found out about, or if they had, they had not said anything to him. Deep down, Alex was still that little boy, he had never really grown up and loved all the time he spent with his mother, he missed the time when she looked after him night after night. But over time he had become used to getting himself ready for bed, it was only natural that as he grew he would take more responsibility. He wanted so much for his mother to do this, but could never build up the courage to ask. So here he was going away on his own for the first time without "mummy", but it would give him chance to wear his nappy during the day if he wanted. He would have them with for night time use, so why not try them during the day as well; maybe he would get those feelings back from when he was younger that he craved so much. His mother was not overly surprised when he refused the offer of the party, so was more than happy for him to have his holiday that he asked for instead. Unknown to Alex, his mother had begun to realise that deep down she was missing having her "little boy" around. She loved looking after him when he was younger but as time went by, she knew she had to release the aprons strings a little and let him develop. His mothers had become a success in the computer industry with her own business, so giving Alex a computer for his school use fine, but she never let on to him that she could remotely access it. So from time to time she found herself checking up on what he had been researching, then purely by accident one day she found one of the sites he had been looking at, then the links to some of the stories he had been reading. She could see that he was reading about "little ones" who still had their mummy even when they were grown up, or little ones that had found and sought out a new mummy. As much as this hurt, she knew that to push and question him straight away would be a mistake, causing her to push him further away or worse still lose him. She decided that he could go on his vacation, let him think for a while but then let him decide what would happen next. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- So the day arrived for Alex to board his coach and take the trip. He was filled with both excitement and anticipation; he was unsure what the next few weeks would hold for him but hoped that he would make some decisions that would set him for the future. He knew there was a job for him with his mums company, but at the same time if something else was out there then that would be better, unless he decided to return to college or university. His mum had made the travel arrangements, booked his coach ticket, decided on the little holiday town he would be staying, even found him a nice little guest house to stay in. Unknown to Alex, it was a old friend of his mums that ran it, a best friend from school and college that moved there a few years earlier to take over a family business. She now ran it by herself and was only too pleased to keep an eye on Alex for his mum. She had been told about his little night time accidents so made a few preparations in advance. "Alex" said Leslie his mum, "I need to tell you a few things about your trip before you leave, so come and sit down with me for a moment before I drop you off at the bus station". Leslie sat at the table with her son, reaching out and taking his hand. "Now you are going to the seaside as you wished, it’s not too busy there, just lively enough to keep you occupied. I have booked you into a nice little guest house that is run by an old friend of mine called Val from college. Now don't panic but I made her aware of your night time accidents, I didn't want you getting all wound up and embarrassed". Alex didn't know what to say when his mum told him, he was mad that she told someone else but could see that it actually made sense, even if it was going to be embarrassing when he met Val. "Val told me that she would take care of everything so you don't need to worry" said Leslie, "She will meet you at the bus station in the resort and take you home. She said she will let you settle in and then give you the tour around before letting you do whatever you want to relax". "So make sure you have a good time, be good for her and hopefully I will get to come and visit you later in the week. I have packed everything for you and sent plenty of money ahead to take care of anything you might need". What Leslie didn't mention was that she had added a few extra things into his suitcase, something that she hoped he would like after reading and looking at his favourite pages on Alex's computer history. She had bought him a new dummy with a teat suitable for adults, along with a cloth nappy and some plastic pants. She knew that it was a risk but just hoped that he would accept them and not be scared. If she could have her little boy back then it would make her the happiest mum in the world. "Thanks for all of this mum" replied Alex, "I know telling Val was for the better, even if it makes me feel awkward and embarrassed when I meet her. It will be nice if you can come visit later in the week, you deserve a break just as much as me". So with his things packed, Alex jumped in the car with his mum and headed to the coach station for his trip. After a big hug, cuddle and a kiss, Alex walked onto his coach and took his seat, waving goodbye as the coach pulled away, leaving Leslie with a tear in her eye, waiting for the moment she would be with her little boy again. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Alex relaxed as soon as the coach pulled away; he was on his way, looking forward to getting away for the summer and chilling out. He had become so wound up finishing school, learning never came natural to him like for some of his classmates, he had to really think hard about everything. He had gotten to the point where he was now feeling a bit mentally drained. He sat in his seat watching the world going by as the coach ploughed its way across the country, stopping at various cities along the way to collect other people. He hadn’t really travelled that much in his younger life, his mum always working hard but he would never blame her for this. He knew she wanted him to have the best they could. Finally it was getting close to lunchtime, that meant the coach would take a break and he could get off and take a break, stretch his legs and get a bite to eat. But more importantly get a chance to use the toilet. He had almost wished he was wearing one of his night time pull ups, the drinks his mum had given him for the journey, combined with the several mugs of tea at breakfast made him quite needy for the bathrooms. As soon as the coach stopped he was straight off and heading towards the bathroom area at the service area, the last thing he needed to see was the short queue of people in front of him. He figured that another coach must have gotten in just before they arrived; this was going to be an anxious and awkward wait. Finally he found himself at the front; he dashed into one of the stalls, unfastening his jogging pants as fast as possible, and then lowering his underwear but not before a little dribble came out. In one sense he was happier being in a stall, his mum’s choice of underwear for him was not the best. They could be described as unisex at best, no opening at the front and very plain. He had gotten used to her buying things like that for him over the years; he barely even noticed the pastel colours she would choose. He just used to make sure he wore the white ones whenever he was doing any sports in school. Finally he was sitting on the toilet, able to relieve himself from all those drinks he had consumed so far. He pulled his phone out of his bag to check if he had any messages, the only one being from his mum. It simply said “Love you baby, hope you have fun”. Seeing this from his mum made him feel all warm inside, she often called him baby, he never thought anything of it. He then checked his journey progress and found that they were just short of halfway to his destination. Bearing that in mind he wondered if they would be stopping once more or not, beginning to wonder whether he would be best in one of the pull ups in his bag. This would let him relax a bit; he had dribbled while going this time, so maybe it was for the best. He quickly removed his jogging pants, then “panties” before slipping on one of his pull ups, then pulled his panties back on, thinking they would help keep the pull up in place, before putting his jogging pants back on. Part 4 With himself finally sorted, Alex made his way out of the stall and into the main washroom, walking slightly slowly, now conscious of the pull up he had on. He knew that they were completely covered but still had that feeling that everyone could see it. He washed his hands and then made his way out, trying to tell whether of not his pants where rustling, but the noise in area due to the large numbers of people masked anything he could hear from his pants. He had a walk to the food area and bought himself a sandwich and a drink, before making his way to some of the seating area outside. It was such a nice day, the sun was shining and it was quite warm so why not eat outdoors for once. He found himself a spot on the grassed area but made sure to keep an eye on the time, the last thing he wanted was to miss his coach. But he could see it from where he was sitting so it would be ok. Alex loved to watch people, see them going about their business, but so many doing the same thing but not noticing. He quietly ate his lunch, sitting on the grass in his shorts, the air blowing around his legs. He forgot the fact he was wearing his pull up, his shorts flapping in the breeze; occasionally flapping so that the edge of it would show. He carried on assuming that no-one was any the wiser, not seeing what he was wearing. Sitting at a picnic table across from him was Wendy Johnson, a school nurse at a private girl’s boarding school. She too was on a holiday break, travelling by coach to a nice quiet resort by the sea, looking forward to some nice relaxing fun. She couldn’t help but notice the young man sitting alone on the grass across from her, he was different to the others, they where businessmen and lorry drivers. But she saw him, small for his age but quite content and happy. She wondered where he was going, what he was doing. Having spent the year with nothing but girls to look at in every direction, she was happy to look at the cute young man. Alex finished his lunch, looked down at his watch then saw it was time to go back to the coach, but as he was geeing up he noticed the lady at the picnic table, she was looking at him and smiling. Getting up he felt the pull up against him, but that only let panic set in, he was directly opposite her, had she seen something, was that why she was smiling. He didn’t know but was glad to be going back to his coach knowing he would be alone again. He got up, walked back across the grass, trying to avoid eye contact but couldn’t, she smiled again at him, he moved quicker wanting to be back at the coach. He got back to the coach and began to board when he noticed the other cases now sitting at the side of the coach. He looked towards the driver and asked what was happening, “Nothing to worry about young man” replied the driver, “we just have a few more passengers coming on board, the other feeder coach has arrived”. Alex thought nothing more of it, he climbed on board and went back to his seat, he put his hand luggage bag back onto the seat next to him, then leaned back waiting for the other passengers to get back. He was minding his own business, when a figure appeared by the seat next to his where his bag was. Looking up he saw a lady standing in the aisle, when he saw who it was he nearly wet himself. It was her, the lady from the bench; there she was, looking down at him, “Excuse me young man, is that seat taken” she asked him, still with that smile on her face. “Errrr, no” replied Alex with slight panic in his voice, “I will just move my bag for you”. Alex took his bag off of the seat and placed it by his feet, not noticing the top was slightly open, he was still surprised to see the lady. Part 5 Wendy took her seat next to Alex, the colour just starting to re-appear to his face after his shock. He sat there quietly wondering whether he should say something, but at that time he was simply lost for words, what could he say, what should he say, he didn’t know what she had seen if anything at all. Wendy sat there next to Alex, she loved the expression on his face when she turned up next to him, she was by no way a mean person, but she thought he was such a sweet little thing. Her whole year at the girl’s school had made her realise how much she had missed males, but there was something about this one that made her curious. She had seen the tell tale edge of his pull up when sitting on the grass, it was something easily recognisable to her, many of the girls in the school had need to see her as the nurse she was. “So young man, what is your name, how far are you travelling” said Wendy, deciding it was time to start talking with her companion. “Eeerrrr, my name is Alex” he stuttered out, “I am on the coach until it reaches the coast; I am going for a break there through the summer. Wendy was delighted to hear this; she too was travelling to the coat and knew they were headed for the same destination. “Well I am very pleased to meet you Alex, my name is Wendy Johnson” came the response, “I too am travelling down to the coast for a holiday. The girl’s school where I work as a nurse has broken up for the summer, so I decided I needed a holiday”. Alex was relaxing a bit now, but the thought of having her next to him for the rest of the journey was not that thrilling. He was taken back a bit when she told him what she did for a job; it just wasn’t expected at that point. The thought of having a nurse next to him made him think once more about the pull ups, he knew that a trained nurse would only have needed the slightest glance to recognise them. “It looks like we will be spending the journey together Alex” said Wendy, once more looking at him with that smile once more. “Now why don’t you give me that bag of yours, I can put it up on the luggage rack with mine, and then you will have far more room for the journey”. Alex was left with little choice and couldn’t reason his way around it, it would give him more room for his legs. So he reached down to grab his bag, but as it was lifted the zip sprung open and there in plain sight was his other spare pull up. He tried to quickly close his bag so it was out of sight, but he could see that Wendy had already spotted it. Wendy calmly took the bag from him, zipped it up and proceeded to place it in the luggage rack. Alex had sat back down in his seat, not knowing what to do or say at that point, it no longer mattered if she had seen it before, now she would know. “It’s ok Alex, there is no need to be ashamed” said Wendy softly as she sat back down, “lots of people have to wear pull ups and nappies, for lots of different reasons. I am a nurse so it is nothing new to me”. Alex was left stunned, he knew now that she had seen him for definite now, his pull up must have been showing while sitting on the grass area. Alex was brought back to his senses by the coach starting up and leaving the service area, a few more passengers had joined but not enough to fill the coach, yet she decided to next to me he thought. Part 6 Alex sat thinking for a moment, now taking the occasional glance at Wendy, studying her more closely. She appeared about a similar age to his mum, but noticeably taller than he was and very good looking at the same time. He thought only pretty school nurses appeared in naughty boy’s dreams. He decided that he should try and explain his situation more clearly, he didn’t want her thinking he wore the pull ups all of the time. “I don’t usually wear pull ups, it’s just that I am on a long journey and my mum gave me a lot to drink” said Alex quietly, hoping that no one could overhear him. “I occasionally need them at night, but with the traffic being as it is these days, I didn’t want to take a chance after the service stop”. Wendy turned and listened to him while he was speaking, thinking how sweet it was of him to try and explain everything. She knew quite well that he could have a genuine reason for using them, but it was just the fact that he looked so cute in them when she saw him. “There is no need to worry about it little one” replied Wendy, grinning and chuckling at Alex, “I knew there was some genuine reason for you wearing them, you just looked so cute and innocent sitting on the grass with the frilly edge of the pull up showing”. “I am only teasing Alex, I am sorry if I offended you, I hope you forgive me, I just want some nice company for the rest of the journey”. Alex was a bit taken back, but decided that Wendy seemed a nice person deep down, even if she was enjoying teasing him. Was it worth not getting along for the rest of the coach journey, it would only be a matter of hours and they wouldn’t see any more of each other. “It’s ok Wendy, I didn’t take offence” replied Alex, “But I never realised they had little frilly edges on them” he laughed, “I really hope my mum never bought me the girls ones”. Wendy began to laugh with Alex, her hand patting him on the leg, she so wanted to lift the edge of the shorts and touch his pull up, but she feared he would be scared off and that was the last thing she wanted. Deep down she had missed not being a mother to anyone herself, she went to university then trained as a nurse then got the job in the school, things such as relationships and settling down had passed her by. So over time she had begun to wonder whether she could find someone that she could give her special attention to, a man, a young man, but someone like Alex would be just perfect. Alex was feeling a bit better now they were laughing about it; he was relaxing, actually starting to like Wendy a bit. A nervous thrill went through his body when she touched his leg, it was something he had never had from a woman before, he had never come close to having a girlfriend. Still laughing and joking, Alex lifted the edge of his shorts to reveal the edge of the pull up, “there you go” he said, “see they are not frilly at all”. But when he looked he could see that they were a bit puffier than his regular ones. He wondered how this escaped his notice before, but he was in such a state and rush in the toilets so he didn’t get caught, it made sense he did notice. “Thanks mum” he thought to himself, “what other surprises have you got for me”. Wendy caught sight of it once more, thinking that it looked so much like some of the ones worn at the school where she worked. It was natural for her, but to see it on a boy was something different, offset against his soft white hairless flesh it looked so nice. “Ok, well maybe no frilly, but slightly girlish you must agree” said Wendy, now gently rubbing his leg. “You have such soft skin for a male Alex, I know lots who would adore to have legs like yours, it’s such a shame to keep them covered up”. Alex was now getting quite aroused at the touch from Wendy; never could he have imagined that events would unfold like this. He could feel the front of his pull up starting to tent, but to cover it with his hands would have given it away immediately, he could do nothing, and he was stuck. He had no way out but now he didn’t want one, her touch was driving him wild, his lack of girl experience was showing; he was far too excited to think straight now. Wendy could see the effect she was having on him, it was becoming more and more obvious, she wondered how far she could push him, was he really so shy with girls, he really was the perfect little creature. She leaned closer to him, then whispered in his ear, “You really love this don’t you, you need this, you are wearing your pull up because it excites you as well”, “I can see the effect it is having on you, relax and let nurse Wendy take care of you”. Alex was unable to resist, he needed so much to be able to release, to release at someone else’s touch and not his own, for it to be at the hands of a woman, at this moment for it to be Wendy. Part 7 Alex was having feeling that he had never experienced before, but they where ones that he was enjoying, he could feel himself growing within his shorts. Just the simple touch of Wendy’s hand on his leg was doing this to him, he knew that she had him under her control but he was quite helpless to do anything about it. He could feel the pressure building up within him, he would not be able to last must longer, but what was he to do, he wasn’t sure but shortly he would pass the point of no return and find out what she planned. Wendy was feeling so good with herself at this point, she had him all worked up at just the touch of her hand, she moved it higher until it found the edge of the pull up. She too was getting excited at the thought of what was to come, could she really do this, could she make him loose himself within the confines of his pull up. She gently stroked his pull up, her hand inside his shorts, but always making sure that no one around them would become suspicious of their actions. She continued to rub her hand on little Alex, slowly and softly, feeling the tension growing within him, she knew it would happen, and then with a sudden shudder it did! Alex tried to hold on but it was no use, his body shuddered softly and then he felt himself release in his pull up. He could feel the little creamies leaking from him, pooling around his pee pee and little parts, it felt warm but the sensation was so good. It was obviously not his first orgasm, but it was in this way, making him feel embarrassed and humiliated, but at the same time so aroused. “Oh you sweet little thing” whispered Wendy softly in his ear, “I never thought my touch would make that happen, but I am overjoyed that it did”. “I will give you a moment to compose yourself, and then I think we had best have a go at cleaning you up and changing you without anyone knowing”. She let Alex calm himself down, holding his hand softly, feeling the last little trembles running through him. Then she released him, stood up just to grab her bag from the luggage rack, before sitting down again. Her back pack was one from the school, she had a few supplies with her as a couple of the young ladies from her school had travelled to the coach station with her, and she always looked out for them. They then went their separate ways, the ladies back home and she on her travels, where she boarded her coach that eventually brought her to Alex. She opened the bag and retrieved a box of wipes, a largish towel and a fresh pull up. Alex was a bit surprised to see these items come from her bag, but when he saw the pull up he was unsure whether to be scared or excited. It was a pull up just like normal, but it was the colour and design that startled him, pale pink in colour with little butterfly patterns. “Well I did say that I would take care of everything” said Wendy looking down at Alex, “don’t worry about the colour; they do just the same job as yours do”, “I am sure they will look so cute on you, your girlish soft legs deserve some girlish pull ups”. Alex looked at her but knew he couldn’t say anything, people would suspect something if he caused a scene, so decided that to cooperate would be the best course. He lifted up slightly in his seat allowing Wendy to lower his shorts, before then sitting down and removing them completely. He was now left in a pull up, one that was full of his own creamy mess. Wendy tore the sides, finally lowering the front revealing the young man’s little cock. She was feeling all giddy seeing this, it was so small, and how could someone his age be so undeveloped, there was practically no hair around it. Alex felt so embarrassed at this point, he had been made to have an orgasm in his pull up, now sitting on a coach seat in it with the sides torn apart, his little parts exposed to her. His bigger problem was that he loved the embarrassment and more so the attention, he was experiencing feelings he couldn’t explain. She gently wiped him clean with the baby wipes, making sure she checked everywhere, then dried him off with the towel. She wanted to apply baby powder but that would have been too risky in this situation. Wendy removed the old pull up from under him, folding it up and tucking it away in her bag, then she opened the new one for him, placing the new pink girls pull up at his feet, guiding them through the leg holes. The final touch was to bring it up his legs and secure it over his bottom, before once more hiding it away in his shorts. PART 8 (apologies for getting a name mixed up, Alex’s mum is called Leslie, hope you are all enjoying) Alex was now entering completely new territory, nothing like this had ever happened before, he wasn’t really sure how he should be feeling. All that he was sure about was that the experience he had just had was quite amazing, something he wanted to happen again and again but not on the coach. He was disturbed from his thoughts by the sound of his phone ringing, he wondered who it was while fumbling through his shorts pockets. He opened it up to find that it was his mum, she was checking up to see how he was getting along. He was pleased to hear her voice as he spoke quietly to her, he was missing her but excited by his new adventures. They chatted only briefly, she would speak longer once he was alone in his guest house with Val. As he closed the phone and said “Goodbye mum, love you”, Wendy looked across and saw the picture of his mum still showing on the screen. Wendy was left stunned, surely it could not be, but she was sure it was. It was Leslie from college, “Oh my god” she thought, Alex is her son, I have just done that with one of my best friends little boy. Wendy recognised the picture as they were both still friends and on Facebook, she decided to speak to Alex about it, better now that having him find out later. “Alex” she said tentatively, “I take it that you where taking to your mum on the phone, do you mind if I see the picture again, I couldn’t help notice it before”. “Yes it was mum” he replied, “I guess you can see the picture, why, what is wrong” he said opening it up to the contact page again, then showing her the picture. “Nothing is wrong sweetie” said Wendy, looking once more to be certain. “Oh my, I was right, it is her” said Wendy, “tell me is your mothers name Leslie, she went to St. Mary’s Girls College after she finished school”. “Yes her name is Leslie” replied Alex, “I think that is where she went to college, why do you ask, what is wrong”. “Nothing is wrong I promise” said Wendy trying to calm down Alex, placing her hand on his leg again. “I have to tell you that your mum and I are old friends from college, we are still in contact via facebook today, we still keep up with each others careers”. Alex looked shocked when he found out, he had just been made to orgasm in his pull up by one of his mums friends, what would she do and say if she found out, he didn’t know what to say. “There were three of us that used to be best friends in college” said Wendy, “your mum, me and a girl called Val. I think she moved to the coast somewhere”. When Alex heard this it all kind of made sense, he was pretty certain that the person he was going to stay with was the same Val that Wendy was now talking about. His mum told him that she was a friend and trusted her to look after Alex, he thought that it might be good to phone her and tell her who he was sitting next to. “Bare with me a moment please Wendy” said Alex as he pressed the button to call his mum “Hi mum” said Alex when his mum answered, “nothing to worry about, I am safe and ok, I just have someone sitting next to me that you might want to chat to”, Alex then gave the phone to Wendy. “Leslie, Leslie Jones, is that really you” said Wendy, “It’s me, Wendy, from facebook, it’s such a surprise to find myself sitting on a coach next to your son, he is such a cute little thing”. Alex sat and starred out of the window for a while, letting Wendy have a chat to his mum, only picking up on the odd thing, “yes he is fine”, “oh don’t worry about that”, “no little accidents”. The last little snippet made his eyes turn back toward Wendy, looking at her having a good idea what they are talking about. “Well it has been great talking and hopefully we can meet up soon” said Wendy to Alex’s mum, “I will take good care of him until we get to Val’s, bye for now”. Alex said a quick goodbye to his mum, her final words telling him that Wendy would look after him until he got to Val’s, she trusted her totally. Part 9 “Well young Alex” said Wendy, “it looks like we will be seeing a lot more of each other than we both thought”, “Your mum is going to speak with Val to see if she has availability for me as well, then we can have lots of fun over the summer”. Alex wasn’t quite sure whether this was going to be a good thing or a bad thing. Yes he liked Wendy and enjoyed what had happened between them, but he was hoping to get some time to himself to be able to rest, relax and chill out a bit. Before he had chance to say anything to Wendy, his phone was ringing with the picture of his mum showing on the front of it. “Hi mum” he said when answering, “what’s up, what do you want, I have only just finished talking to you”. “Nothing to worry about sweetie” replied his mum, “just pass on a message to Wendy for me” “Tell her that I have spoken to Val and everything is sorted, there is a room waiting for her and I will be joining you later once I get finished up here”. “Okay mum, no problem, take care and don’t overdo things” replied Alex, “I will let Wendy know”, “Bye for now, love you mum”. “Love you too sweetie, take care and be good for Wendy and Val” replied Leslie, thinking how sweet her little boy was; she wanted him back, her little baby boy. “That was my mum on the phone again” said Alex looking at Wendy, “she says that everything is sorted with Val, there is a room waiting for you to stay in and she will join us later”. Alex decided not to mention the part about being good for her and Val; he thought that it would give Wendy the illusion that Alex had to be with her all the time. He wanted his own time when he could get it, to be able to do what he wanted, when he wanted, in his regular underwear and not in pull ups, or worse still the pink pull ups given to him by Wendy. Wendy thought to herself that things could not be more perfect, should would be staying with an old friend; have Alex staying in the same house, then hopefully the three best friends being reunited where they could concentrate on Alex. Little did Alex know but it was no coincidence that Wendy had found him, Leslie had told her where his coach would be stopping. Leslie had arranged for Alex to be staying with Val, as she knew Val would be only too happy to help her with her need to get her little boy back. She had told Val about his bed wetting and told her of the little surprise she had put in his suitcase, just to make sure that Alex did not try and dispose of it. By the time she was joining them, she hoped that Alex would be in pull ups and nappies full time, not really knowing what was happening to him. Alex leaned back in his seat, watching the world going by; completely unaware of what was in store for him, looking forward to his well earned break. Without even realising it, his hand had slipped to his lap where he was slowly rubbing across his shorts, his fingers then moving the material so that he was able to touch his pull up; the soft pink pull up that Wendy had put him in. Wendy was watching him all this time, seeing him play with the edge of the pull up was getting her aroused, she saw him slipping further and further into the sweet little one that Leslie wanted him to become, but he was totally unaware of it. She put her hand on top of his, just as he was playing with the pull up; she hoped he wouldn’t be startled too much. He looked down, only then realising what he had been doing; he was now blushing; the redness filling his cheeks in embarrassment. Wendy slowly moved his hand and placed it on her leg, and then slowly moving it up and down, she wanted to push him further, make him want to be with her. She finally moved his hand to rest between her legs, wondering what sort of reaction this would bring, had he ever been with a woman before. She was rewarded with a noticeable bulge showing in his shorts, she began to wonder if she could get him to orgasm once more, but this time in his girls pull up. Part 10 Alex was now growing bright red with embarrassment, he was unable to control the reaction in his shorts, he wasn’t even touching them and neither was Wendy, but the feeling he had just touching Wendy was like electric flowing through him. He was unable to control his emotions and this was obvious for Wendy to see, she knew she was being unfair playing with the emotions of Alex, but needed to get some release for herself. With her hand still firmly on top of Alex’s, still resting between her legs, she needed to know something, she needed to question him. “Alex my little sweet” whispered Wendy into his ear, “Have you ever been with a woman before, have you ever touched one, it’s ok, you can be honest with me”. Alex was not surprised to hear this, considering the delicate situation he was in, but what could he say, how could he admit to her that even though he was 18, soon to be 19, he had never had a girlfriend, let alone been with a girl before. He had been kissed by girls, but only because he was such a sweet and caring boy when around them. He looked up towards Wendy, their eyes meeting, he wanted to say something but just couldn’t, and he just gently shook his head from side to side. Wendy had a feeling what his answer would be before even asking, but she just needed to know from him. She wanted him to have his moment at some point, but now would not be that time; instead she just removed both their hands from her legs. Holding him closely, she looked into his eyes, “Don’t worry about that little one, we will make sure that at some point you get to enjoy the experience”. “But for now, do you need to use your pull up, did little Alex have fun last time, but I am sure you would love to have some fun in your little pink pull up”. While Alex was thing whether or not he could go through with it again, the coach driver made an announcement. “We will be arriving in the next hour at the final stop, this will be the place for all passengers to leave the coach, I hope you have had a good journey with us today”. Wendy saw this as an opportunity to help Alex once again, “There you go sweetie” she said to him, “soon we will be arriving, then we will be off to Val’s guest house for our lovely holiday. So if you want to have a little fun we can get you cleaned up at Val’s”. He hadn’t thought about Val for some time, he had never met her, but he had wondered if Wendy knew her as well. His mum told him that she was a friend of hers and she would look after him once he arrived, but that was before Wendy entered the equation. He knew his mum had made arrangements for her to stay as well. All he could think was that his holiday was certainly going to be different. Alex had come so far in just a few hours, he loved being made to cum in his pull up, but now he was in a girls pink pull up, this would feel so different, but he thought he needed to try, the feeling felt so good to him last time. He looked at Wendy, and then simply said “yes please”. Wendy felt so pleased, he loves the emotions set off within him, maybe this will be easier and more fun than Leslie thinks, and her little boy would be putty in her hands once finished. “Okay sweetie, let me help you achieve what you need, just lift up slightly, I think you will enjoy it better”. Alex didn’t even think about it, he lifted his body allowing Wendy to lower his shorts, leaving him sitting there in just a pink pull up. She put her arm around him, drawing him close to her, then placed her other hand on top of his pull up. She then slowly started to rub the front of it for him, feeling him growing within. Without realising Alex’s hand was now playing with the edge of the pink material, rubbing it and flicking it between his fingers, all the time enjoying the touch of Wendy on his front. He was moaning softly, shivers running through him, unable to control his feelings, unable to stop himself from getting closer and closer to erupting once again. “Come on my sweet little Alex” whispered Wendy, “let yourself go, let your emotions out, empty yourself into that cute girly princess pull-up, let those feelings come out”. Alex could not hold out, he had no choice, but surprising himself he erupted into the pull up at the moment Wendy mentioned the words “cute girly princess pull-up”, it acted like a trigger, fluid flowing from him, the front of the pull-up getting slightly darker with the wet spot forming before him. Part 11 Wendy was feeling so happy and pleased with herself, she knew that the main goal was to help Leslie achieve her wishes, but she was going to make sure she had her fun along the way. Leslie had told her she could play with her little boy as she would have to wait until she joined them, but Leslie thought that it would be easier getting Alex to do whatever they wanted if he was getting some fulfilment himself. With her hand now resting on his pull up, Wendy looked at him, “Aww, Alex sweetheart, you are such a good boy, I bet that feels all nice doesn’t it”, “But we need to get your shorts back on, we will be arriving shortly and Val will be there to meet us”. Alex was so much out of it with his own personal enjoyment; this brought him back to his senses. He quickly pulled up his shorts, wanting to be covered up ready for when they stopped in the bus station, he knew people would be moving around so didn’t want to arouse suspicion. Wendy could see him trying to make sure he was all covered up again, she thought it so sweet and innocent, but by the time they had finished with him there would be none of it. He would not care who saw him and where he was, he would be that little boy for his mum and her friends. Within minutes the coach was pulling into the bus station, people were up and about, rushing around the coach trying to get their things together. Wendy made sure that Alex stayed still in his seat, letting everyone else start to leave until she was ready to leave. Eventually they got up out of their seats, Wendy passed down Alex his back pack from the luggage rack, then brought hers down, and then after checking they had everything, they walked down the front of the coach and then got off. Alex was now for the first time for as long as he could remember wearing a pull up in public, but not only that, he was wearing a girls pink pull up, one that was all damp inside because of his own excitement. He followed Wendy away from the coach, heading towards an area where some people had gathered to greet friends that had travelled. Alex did not know Val by sight, it had been quite some years since Wendy had seen her friend, but when things had settled, there was only one lady left standing there. Wendy went over towards her, “Val is that you, it has been such a long time but you’re still so tall and elegant”. “Hi Wendy” replied Val, “it has been so long but Leslie sent me a few pics from your Facebook so I would recognise you”. They had a warm embrace before Val turned her attention to Alex, looking him up and down, “Well hello sweetie, you must be my little guest for the next few weeks, it’s so good to finally meet you, and your mum has told me so much about you”. Alex went to shake her hand, but Val just put her arms around him, pulled him close and hugged him tightly. He could feel her arms around him and her hands then giving his bottom a little squeeze, if only to confirm her knowledge of him. When they stepped apart, Wendy and Val started loading the luggage in her 4x4, giving Alex chance to clearly look her over. She was taller than both Wendy and his mum, maybe a bit older as well, long flowing dark hair, slim body with large breasts that pressed against her tight clothing. If it had been in any other situation he could even have found himself attracted to Val, she was older yes, but so pretty. This was going to be a lot harder for him now, Wendy had him wanting her, Val was just as pretty and she would be looking after his special requirements for night time. “Right then Alex” called out Val, “no day dreaming, get in the car, then I can get you and Wendy settled in, I am quite sure that you could do with a bath or shower”. Alex went over to the car where Val had the back door opened for him, Wendy already seated in the front. He was a bit surprised to see a 5 point harness attached to the seat, but with a few boxes on the other seat had no choice but to get in. “Oh I am sorry about this Alex” said Val, “I had my niece staying last week; her mum insisted that I had the harness fitted”, “It should fit you; she is quite big for her age whereas you are small for yours”. Before he could say anything, she was securing him in, including fastening the crotch strap up between his legs. Part 12 Alex was left speechless as he was fastened into the back of the car, a position that unknown to him he would become accustomed to in the not so distant future. He thought about protesting but knew that if he caused any trouble, his mum would find out. While everything was going on, there was still one thing in the back of his mind, his mum had made the arrangements and he could never bring himself to upset her in any way. He sat quietly in the back of the car listening to some music playing, whilst up front Wendy sat chatting with Val, he couldn’t make out what they were talking about, but occasionally thought he heard his name being mentioned. It was only a short ride before they pulled up outside a large house at the end of a road, just off the main seafront, but looking out over a beach that appeared quite secluded. Val and Wendy climbed out of the car, before Val came around to his door and opened it, he had tried himself but found the child lock in place on the door. He had to wait for Val to release his harness; it fastened in a way that made it impossible for him to reach the locking point. She went to release him but not before looking down at his shorts, unknown to him they had ridden up enough so that the edge of his pull up was now showing. “Come on sweetie” said Val releasing him from the seat, “let’s get you inside and settled down, I am sure that you could do with a bath and a change out of those”. The last part was said as she had her hand on his pull up, rubbing the edge of it. He went to the back of the car to collect his case, but not knowing what little surprises his mum had packed in there for him. His usual underwear had been replaced with much thicker terry cotton pants, ones that would be better described as a pair of training panties for toddlers. Then there was the usual pull up which he wore for sleeping in at night, but the special surprise was the cloth nappy and plastic pants she put in there, one just like those he had been viewing on-line. They made their way into the house, Alex was impressed with what he saw, very large hallway, very well furnished but all looking slightly feminine, but at the same time very homely. From his position in the large waiting area, he could see out over the sea, the beach looked very private but that was perfectly ok with him. Wendy had already gone up her room by the time Val had collected Alex’s room key, “Come along Alex, let’s go find your room, I am sure you will, it is right next to mine, so I can keep an eye on you like I promised your mum”. They made their way up the first flight of stairs, then along a corridor after going through a door marked private, “It’s ok Alex” said Val, “I just wanted to make sure that you get some nice peace and quiet, sometimes the guests can be a bit noisy”. Finally they reached a door marked with a little sign saying “ALEX”, which was a bit of a shock to him, he hadn’t realised how much trouble Val had gone through. The door was unlocked by Val and Alex was greeted by daylight once again. Before him stood a vast room, with a large double bed against one wall, directly opposite was a large TV mounted to the wall, then a dresser with plenty of drawers for his clothes. There was also a large dressing table with its own chair, but to his surprise in the corner a desk with a laptop computer on it. “That was a present from your mum for doing so well at school” said Val as she saw him looking at it, “through that door over there is your own private bathroom, the other door leads to my room but it is locked so don’t worry about that”, “The last door over there is the walk in wardrobe, but I think the dresser will be ok for your things”. “So let’s get you unpacked then you can have that nice warm bath that we both know you need”. Unaware of its contents, Alex lifted up his case onto the bed, but as it landed he thought he heard something rustling, Val came over to him, putting her arm around him, “That noise is only the protective mattress cover I put on the bed for you, your mum did tell you that she told me about your little problem and the last thing we want is for your bed to get wet. We can deal with a wet sheet or two but not a wet mattress”. He did remember what his mum had told him, so in all fairness it was to be expected, but it was just the shock of it, he just looked at Val and smiled. He started to open the case, then once open he undid the luggage straps inside it, removing the towel off the top. Directly underneath where his pull ups, all laying next to each other, which Val picked up and then walked over to the dresser with before laying them in one of the drawers, next to more pink ones which she already had prepared. He removed his t-shirts himself only to find the new underwear selection his mum had packed for him. At first he was unsure what they where, but having given the shirts to Val he quickly picked a pair up, only now understanding what they were. He had seen them on some of the sites he looked at but never imagined he would have some himself, especially not so many. Val came back over to him, looking at what he was holding, “Oh my, aren’t they the cutest little panties ever, so thick and sensible for a sweet boy like you, we will have to take care washing these, we don’t want them losing all that puffiness do we”. With that, Val took them from him and then places them in the dresser, the next drawer down from his pull ups. Alex then removed the next layer which contained some jeans and some more shorts, only to finally reveal the final surprise from his mother. There in plain view was the thickest terry cotton nappy he had seen, resting next to a pair of pale pink plastic panties that where covered in see through organza, with fine lace edging. For Alex he could see straight away what they where, it was something he had looked at so many times before, something he always wanted to try but never had. He was stuck in a trance until Val rested her hand on his, before looking at him, waiting to see if he would say anything. A few moments later with Alex still quiet, Val picked up the nappy and pants, removed it from the case and placed it on his bed next to the pillow. She closed the case, put it under the bed then looked at him, “Now you get undressed, I will go and run the bath. We can discuss the nappy later; there must be a good reason that your mum put it in there”. Part 13 Alex was speechless, he couldn’t believe that his mum had done this, he was trying to work out in his mind what would have made her do it, was there any way possible that she had found out his secret. In his mind he had been so careful, he never left his computer switched on, it was locked with a completely unique password. But while he was still thinking and trying to work things out, he had completely forgotten to get himself undressed, Val returned and caught him day dreaming. “Now come on Alex sweetie, I was hoping you would all ready and undressed ready for your bath” said Val in a sweet and motherly voice, “I can see that I am going to have to keep a firm eye on you in the future”. Before he had chance to start, Val was helping him remove his clothing, the bath was already full ready for him. Off came his t-shirt and shorts, leaving him standing there in just his sock and the cute pink pull up that Wendy put him in. Next off came his socks, just leaving him standing there in that pink pull up. Next thing he knew there was a flash of a camera; he turned to see Wendy standing the doorway taking a few snaps of him. “Forgive me Alex but I just had to have a few pics” said Wendy, “after all, it was me that put that on you”. But before Alex could reply, Wendy was off and gone. She needed to send those pics to his mum. Val took him by the hand and led him into the bathroom, then slowly tore each side of the pull up, before slowly pulling it away from his body. All the sticky cum was now stretching from him to that soft pink material, but the little strings broke away and he was now completely naked. Val looked at him and thought he looked so sweet, she could see now why Leslie wanted to get her little boy back again. Apart from his head, she noted that his body was practically hairless; he really was so young looking for his age. She would make sure that when the time was right, she would have all those stray hairs removed, he would be as smooth as a baby. “Come on sweetie, stop dawdling” said Val, “let's get you in the water before it starts getting cold, I will be back shortly to check on you”. With that Val helped Alex into the water and then gave him a large sponge to wash himself with, before leaving him alone to enjoy the nice hot water. He sat there for a while trying to take in what had happened over the last few hours since those services on the motorway. He knew things had changed, some of the things he wanted where starting to happen, but not quite in the way he expected. His peace was soon disturbed by a returning Val, but now she had a long length PVC apron on, her hair tied back out of the way. She came into the bathroom with a large fluffy white bath towel and put it down on the vanity unit. “Just as I thought” she said, “I leave you here to wash yourself and once more I find you day-dreaming, I think that I had best take care of things”. Without another word, she grabbed the sponge off Alex, added some all over baby wash, and then proceeded to wash Alex from head to toe, not even blinking when she got to private parts. She simply grabbed hold of his pee pee, and then washed it all over, top to bottom. Once she was done she had him stand up in the water, then she proceeded to wash between his legs, running her soapy fingers all over his bottom and between his cheeks. Alex was enjoying the touch once more, he wanted to say something, he was a young man and old enough to wash himself, but his natural instinct was to let her take over. All too soon for him it was over and she was taking his hand to help him out of the bath, then wrapping his soft skinned little body in the large fluffy towel. She dried him off in a motherly way, taking care to ensure he was totally dry, before leading him back into the bedroom. “Now I think it is still quite early, so let’s get you some clean underwear out, then get you dressed and I think we can go and get some dinner”. Val thought about using the nappy but decided that bedtime would be a far more appropriate time for its introduction to Alex. Instead she picked a pair of his thicker underwear from the dresser, ones she knew where actually training panties. She added a bit of powder to his private area, and then helped him into the panties, pulling them up making sure they were nice and snug. Next she gave him a t-shirt and shorts to wear, both plain white, followed by some small socks and then his white trainers. He loved the touch of Val while being dressed, she was stern like a mother would be, but at the same time so soft and gentle with him. He was once more getting aroused in his panties, something that didn’t go unnoticed to Val, but this would have to wait until later. “Come on sweetie, let’s go and get you some dinner, then you can have a look around the place, you might like what you see”. Apologies to all who have been reading, I got a bit snowed under with work so this had to take a seat on the backburner. Hopefully I will have more time to write once more. Chapter 14 Val took him by the hand and led him from his bedroom, back down the corridor they had come along. It was only just dawning on him that he was not going to be eating dinner in private; he would be going to the main dining room where all the other guests where eating. He worked out that the guest house was not huge, but it was full so there would be quite a few people there, probably all wondering who the young man all dressed in white was. Val had a few guests that were staying for the summer as well as Alex and Wendy, she was sure that they would want to meet little Alex at some point. When they reached the dining room, Wendy was already there sitting at a table, he could see the other place setting so knew that he must be joining her. As he made his way across the room he only really found his eyes meeting with two other ladies sitting together, both looking about the age of Val, wearing sleeveless tops and trousers, one dark hair and the other a blonde. He thought they were quite attractive even though they were older, but looked fit and trim at the same time. They smiled as he walked passed them before taking his seat with Wendy, the only two in the room that made eye contact with him. Val could see they noticed little Alex, “I see that Hannah and Angela have noticed you sweetie” said Val, “they are staying all summer just like you, they come every year for the summer season, selling their clothing at a stall in the summer market. When they are off they love to keep fit, I am sure you will love to meet them at some point”. Alex was ok with the keeping fit side of things, that is why he was always so slender, but he did wonder what they sold, assuming it to be ladies clothing, but he would find out another time. “Now don’t you look a handsome little boy” said Wendy, drawing Alex’s attention back to her and Val, “you look so sweet all dressed in white, we must make sure you have a nice big napkin to keep you clean”. That was when Val reached around him, putting the dark pink napkin in his lap, before tucking another in his shirt collar, draping down his front. Val then left Wendy and Alex to bring out the first course for everyone. They both enjoyed some tomato soup, and then chicken with potatoes before dessert was served. Everyone except Alex had cheesecake, but he was given ice cream with little sugar sprinkles on the top. He wondered why at the time but loved ice cream so didn’t bother to ask. With dinner over, Wendy retired to her room to do some work she had brought from the school, leaving Alex once more in the care of Val. “Now then sweetie” she said to him, removing his napkins and wiping his mouth and face, just like a mother would to a little child, “Why don’t we go for a little walk and I can show you the beach and the seafront”. “Do you need to use the bathroom first” she asked him, just loud enough for Hannah and Angela to overhear, causing a little smile and giggle from them. “I guess I better had” replied Alex, the last thing he wanted was to be caught short. So standing up Val once again led him back through the dining room, before taking him to his bathroom. But what shocked Alex was that she went in with him and without a word, lowered his shorts and training pants before pushing him down onto the toilet seat. “It's ok Alex; I have had a son of my own, so I have seen it all. Now you go pee pee for Aunty Val, I did promise your mummy I would take care of you”. Alex was lost for words, he didn’t know what to say, what to do, so he just sat down and did his best to let his pee flow out. He stood up and was about to pull his pants back up when he got a look from Val that said just one thing, hands off! So instead he just stood still and let her take care of things. She then wiped his little cock softly, before sprinkling some baby powder over it, then sliding his training panties back up. Now she was smoothing them out, rubbing him gently to get a reaction from him. It worked, she was now feeling a little bulge growing in his pants, and Alex was wriggling slowly at her touch, so she carried on. She then had him step out of his shorts, leaving him standing there in just the training pants, socks and trainers. While still rubbing him she reached into a cupboard and pulled out a pair of clear plastic pants, wanting to put him into them as soon as possible. “Now come on sweetie, be a good boy for Aunty Val, lets slip these onto you then we won’t have anything leaking through that we need to worry about”. He was like putty in her hands, the feeling flowing through him once more that he had experienced with Wendy. He put one leg then the other into the pants, before Val slowly lifted them up his smooth legs, pulling them into place. She now need to reward him she thought, let him see how good he was for letting her do this to him. Val now had her hand rubbing and caressing the front of him, her other hand now inside the back of his panties, holding his soft pink botty cheeks. A stray finger slowly edging towards his soft little hole, she knew she would have that one day soon. “Come on sweetie, show Aunty Val what a good boy you are, let it all out, you know you want to cream you soft terry panties, especially now you are safe in your plastic pants”. Alex was now beyond the point of no return, he wanted to release so much, Val had done the same to him that Wendy had before. Then suddenly he tensed up and just as Val’s finger touched his little hole, he squirted into the training pants. “Oh you perfect little darling” said Val to him softly, “I bet that felt so nice didn’t it, I bet you are glad we put your plastic pants on, such a lot of wet sticky cream would have soaked through your new training pants”. Chapter 15 Alex was left standing there with emotions running through his body like nothing he had never felt before. Val had made him feel so special, he wanted to thank her but felt too embarrassed to say anything, he had enjoyed it but it should have felt so bad. He looked at her but just could not bring himself to say anything. Instinct told Val that she had him all mixed up inside, he had been dressed as pure and innocent as possible but still in adult clothes, well on the outside anyway. Then without any fuss she had taken him into the bathroom to use the toilet, before getting him all worked up and making him cum in his little training panties. “Come on sweetie” Val told him, “I think you need a little bit of fresh air to cool you down and let you get a breather”. Val took him by the hand and led him back out into the corridor before heading outside, but not before collecting a small bag. It held a jumper for both of them in case the air got a bit cool, but they where, unknown to Alex both in pale baby pink. She also had two rain capes in there as it had forecast the chance of a shower later in the evening. On the way out through the door Alex passed both Angela and Hannah, both of them giving his bottom a little pat on the way through the door before giggling. It was as though the sound of his plastic pants was echoing to them; he began to wonder if they knew already, or if not, how long it would be before they found out. Leaving the guesthouse entrance, Alex once again found himself hand in hand with Val, well more so Val taking his hand. With every little step he took he could feel the damp patch in the front of his pants pressing against his skin, he knew that if it weren’t for the plastic pants there would be a large wet spot showing. He knew that Val had left him this way for her own enjoyment, but maybe for his own humiliation. But after a while he had gotten used to the feeling and carried on as though nothing mattered. Val carried on walking trying not to look down on her sweet little charge, but she kept having the odd little glance at him, seeing the conflict in his face, looking at the picture of innocence, still dressed all in white. They approached one of the shelters along the sea front so Val decided it was time to sit down and add a layer of clothing now that the sun was setting. Val sat down and lifted Alex onto her knee, the size difference between them making the job quite easy. “I think it’s time for a sweater for both of us sweetie” said Val, “we don’t want to catch cold, your mummy would never forgive me”. “Here we go” said Val reaching into her bag and pulling out two sweaters, “I hope you don’t mind that I got matching ones for us, they where the first ones I grabbed out of the cupboard”. Val tried to make it sound like a coincidence she had picked two pale pink sweaters, but that had been her plan all along. “I guess it doesn’t matter” replied Alex, “it’s not as though mine is a girls or ladies one”, not really knowing one way or the other just making a logical assumption. “It does feel really soft though” said Alex, “it will keep me nice and warm”. Val proceeded to dress Alex in his new sweater knowing full well that it was a girls, it was also a mix of lamb’s wool and angora, designed to be super soft on smooth skin. She knew only too well that it would tingle the soft blonde hairs on his arms; what few of them there were. She then proceeded to put her own on, before giving Alex a small carton of juice with a little straw in it. When they set off again, Alex once again hand in hand with Val, they looked like mother and child, from a distance they could have been mistaken for mother and daughter with Alex dressed in pink and white. Val now understood more and more why his mom wanted him back as her little one, he was so unassuming and innocent with regards to the big wide world, he needed the close love and attention, and so far that is what he had been getting. Alex finished his drink while walking along, Val pointing out small things along the way; the best part of the beach; where he could swim and where to get the best ice cream. Alex tried to pay attention but was having a bigger problem, the need for the bathroom. The little mess he had made in his trainer pants earlier, combined with the carton of juice now meant he needed to visit the bathroom. “Erm Aunty Val” said Alex, wondering what to say, “is there anywhere with a bathroom nearby, I need to use one”. Val thought for a moment, wondering whether it was too soon to have Alex wet himself, she so wanted to but decided that outdoors would be unfair to him. “Come on sweetie, there are some toilets further along” she said, “can you be a good boy and hold on for me, it’s not far”. Alex had little choice but to carry on hoping that he wouldn’t leak anything, he was now quite relieved to be wearing the plastic pants. They soon reached the bathroom but there was a sign on the door of the mens room saying it was out of order, saying the next was about 15 mins away. He knew he could not hold for that long so rather than take a boy into the ladies; Val opened the door to the baby change room, knowing it would be empty this time in the evening, then pulling Alex in behind her. To avoid adults using this room as a toilet, there was only a potty chair in the corner suitable for a child, so Val told Alex he would have to use it. To stop him getting his white shorts dirty by touching the floor, Val insisted that he take them off first. So he soon found himself sitting on a child’s potty, wearing only his trainers and socks with his white polo and pink jumper. With Alex looking down, Val took the opportunity to take a quick picture of him, before sending it to his mum. “Are you all done sweetie” said Val bringing him back to his senses, “stand up so I can wipe you dry”. Val took hold of his little cock and gently dabbed it dry with some paper, still seeing the remains of the shiny cum glistening on his skin. “I think that we will have to give someone a shower when they get home, you really did fill your panties for Aunty Val didn’t you, you where such a good boy”. Those words from Val only had one effect on young Alex, I made him excited once again, but all Val did this time was to clean him further with his cloth training pants. When she finished, she held them out and looked at Alex, “You can’t wear these back home, they are far to damp for your delicate skin” “I am afraid that you will just have to wear your plastic pants under your shorts, but I am sure that you will be ok” “Come on; let me put them back on you”. Val slid the plastic pants back up his legs, fitting them over his bottom and pulling them up at the front, but his now semi stiff cock pointing upright beneath the soft PVC. She then helped him back into his shorts, fastening them up, and then patting the front of them. “Come on sweetie” said Val gathering their things, “time to head back I think”. The first few steps Alex took where the strangest ever to him, the soft PVC now caressing him with every step he took, making him harder and harder. But Val just gently smiled at him, wondering how long he could hold on for. Chapter 16 The light was beginning to fade as the sun started to set out over the sea, the temperature still relatively warm but the need for the soft jumper Alex was wearing justified with the sea breeze. It was the first time he had really noticed the small resort he would be spending his summer in, somewhere he could feel safe, already finding himself being very intimately cared for by Val and Wendy. As they carried on along the sea front back towards Val’s guesthouse, Alex found himself getting more and more excited within the confines of his plastic pants, the soft smooth PVC encasing his little private parts, rubbing him slowly with each step he took. Val knew full well the effect it was having on little Alex but was not letting up and carried on walking, her hand gripping tightly to that of Alex, making sure the pace was kept up. As they approached the shelter they stopped at on the way down, the sky clouded over very quickly from the land, a few droplets of rain starting to fall. They just made it in time before the rain got heavier; joined at the same time by two ladies that had come from the opposite direction. It was only when they all met at the same side of the shelter that Alex could see it was the two ladies from the guest house that had spoken to him earlier; Hannah and Angela. “Hello there sweetie” said Hannah, surprised to see Alex standing there, “don’t you look all nice and warm in that soft pink sweater” “I might have to ask Val where she got that, I would love one like that myself, it looks so soft and girlish, maybe Val will take us shopping for one”. Val looked down at her little companion, she loved how embarrassed he would get but still not say anything. “I think I can find time to show you where they came from” said Val, “it would be a good idea to get another for Alex for these cooler summer evenings, maybe one in lemon or white, what do you think Alex”? Alex was caught with nowhere to go, he had to be good and didn’t want to anger Val, even though the colours she mentioned where just as childish and girlish as the pink one he was wearing. “Maybe it would be a good idea” replied Alex, “it does feel nice and warm”. He answered as best he could hope that in time they would forget about the idea. “It looks like this rain is set for the evening” said Angela, “I do hope you have a coat to keep your soft wool nice and dry Alex”. But before he could answer Val had her hand in the bag she was carrying, “I thought I would bring these just in case” replied Val pulling out a folded up PVC raincoat, “you never can tell with this sea air”. Hannah took the coat from Val and opened it up, letting out a pleasant smile and little giggle when she saw that it was pale pink, but still see-through. “Come along Alex” she said, “let me help you on with this then you can be on your way, back home to nice warm bath before bedtime”. Hannah held the coat out while Alex slipped his arms in without any arguments; it was soft and smooth, and quite figure hugging to him. Hannah smiled to him as she closed the front and did up the buttons. Her hands smoothed it out around his body, only then did she hear the rustling of his panties, those plastic ones that had caressed him all the way to his present location. Val could see that Alex was getting embarrassed again, his shorts slightly tenting at the front again, she wondered if he would react to Hannah touching him the same as when she did. “Please excuse me for a moment” said Val, “I need to make a phone call, and I just remembered I had forgotten to order something for tomorrow”. “Now Alex, you stay here with Hannah, I will be just around the corner”. All of the phone call talk had been an excuse made up by Val, but none of them knew that apart from her. Once Val was around the corner, Hannah sat down on the bench and lifted Alex onto her lap, holding him close with one arm, her other hand now resting on top of the bulge in his pants. “Do you like your plastic pants sweetie” she whispered to him, “I bet they are so soft and smooth rubbing on your little pee pee, have you already been naughty in them”? Alex just looked at her and nodded, he knew that without anyone stopping her, he would soon have another mess in them. Hannah now had her hand inside the shorts and was playing with him, rubbing him slowly, telling him quietly and softly that he was such a sweet boy. “You are going to make the perfect little one for your mummy” said Hannah to him, something which he secretly wanted but had still never let out. “Now be a good little boy and fill your panties for Aunty Hannah, let all that boyish little cream out”. This was getting too much for him, his body tensed up more and more with each touch from Hannah, until she whispered one last comment, “You will be doing this lots and lots when with me, I guarantee” That sent Alex over the edge; he began to spurt more of his creamies into the panties. Chapter 17 Hannah held Alex close while he did his best to regain his composure, there was a grin on her face from side to side, enjoying so much what she had just put the poor boy through, but now looking forward even more to the next time she play with him. Alex was coming back to his senses when he felt Angela run her fingers through his hair, “Awww, such a sweet little boy” she told him, “I can’t wait to go swimming with you tomorrow”! Alex new nothing about this but felt strangely comfortable with all the ladies he was now acquainted with, no matter what they seemed to be doing to him. He had been through so many emotions so far but all of them so pleasurable. Val had finished her so called phone call and re-appeared from the other side, but she had been watching Alex without him knowing, loving every moment of it. But now was the time to take him home and get him settled for the night, he had had quite a day so far and must have been exhausted. “Come along little one” said Val, “I think it is about time we were going, I am sure that you will have plenty of time to play with Hannah and Angela”. Alex just blushed at the thought, wondering what Val meant, but his mind was brought back to the present moment as soon as he stood up. All that fluid was now gathering once more in the bottom of his plastic panties. His little balls now coated in the emissions that both Val and Hannah had coaxed from him. So finally with his pink PVC raincoat fastened up, his hood pulled up, Val took him by the hand and they set off back towards the guesthouse. The walk back was quiet, neither saying much, both getting covered in the rain that was still falling, but Alex quite happy to be dry in his coat, even if it was pink. Once safely back indoors, Val helped him off with his coat. “Well I think it is time for you to go have a bath” said Val, “I am sure that your pants must be quite full by now, I can’t leave you in them, now can I”. Val led him upstairs back towards his bathroom, to be greeted by Wendy coming out of her room, “Well hello sweetheart” said Wendy, “I hope you have had a nice walk”. “Are we going for a nice warm bath”? “Yes” replied Val before Alex could speak, “his little underwear didn’t last too long”, “But it is ok, his plastic pants managed to hold all his little messes, so I think it time to get him cleaned up before bed”. “Well I can’t let you do all the work” said Wendy, “you go and check that all is ok with the staff and guests, I will get Alex started with the bath”. Wendy took Alex to his bathroom, and then started the water running in the bath while she slowly proceeded to remove his clothes. Alex felt a little nervous as this was the first time Wendy had actually seen him totally naked. While she turned off the water, Alex was left to stand in just his plastic panties, the see-through PVC doing nothing to hide all the cumsie sloshing around inside. Wendy turned around to look at him, knowing full well what had happened, Val actually messaged her earlier to let her know what fun they had been having. “My oh my” she exclaimed trying to be surprised, “you really have been enjoying yourself haven’t you”. She spread a towel on the floor, then slowly lowered the panties from Alex, strings of white cum hanging from his skin, leaving his little cock and balls all shiny. Once he had stepped out of them she wondered for a moment, thinking would he taste it, but then thought that could wait for another time. “Right then, into the bath with you” said Wendy, “I will just wash these out in the sink then we can make sure that you are all clean”. Alex lowered himself into the water, sinking slowly under all the soft bubbles that now surrounded him, trying his best to wash as quickly as possible. He looked around for a sponge but there was none to be found, a washcloth neither, he now knew he would not be washing himself. “Right then little one” said Wendy, turning her attention back to him, now holding a large sponge in her hands, “let’s get you all washed and clean, then Val will be back to get you dressed for bed”. “But...but..but” stammered Alex, “I can wash myself if you give me the sponge, I am sure I can manage”. “Nonsense” replied Wendy, kneeling down at the side of the bath, “we all promised your mummy that we would take good care of you, and so that is what we will do”! With that she put her fingers in the bubbles and then brought some up and dabbed them onto Alex’s nose, causing Alex to giggle as he accepted his fate, he could never go against his mums wishes no matter how strange they seemed. Wendy then plunged the sponge in to the water, then brought it up to Alex’s chest and began to wash him, making sure that no place was left untouched. With the top of his body done, Wendy had Alex get on his hands and knees in the bath, where she proceeded to wash his bottom before turning her attention to between his legs. Alex was giggling like a little girl while this was happening; she had now found his ticklish week spot. She slowly washed every part of his little body; his balls, and then finally his little pee pee. He could not help it when it started to grow under her soft touch, but this time he would not be getting any relief from it, the ladies had decided that he had gone through enough today. Just as Wendy finished washing him, Val returned to the bathroom with a very large white fluffy towel in her arms. She could help but laugh when she saw little Alex on his hands and knees in the water, still with a big pile of bubbles sitting on his bottom. “Come on sweetie, it’s time to get you out before you get addicted to those bubbles” said Val, still chuckling to herself. She waited for Wendy to pour some water over Alex’s bottom, before helping him to stand up, then wrapping the big warm fluffy towel around him. “Now don’t you look all snug and warm in there” said Wendy, “I think I can leave you safe in Val’s arms for the rest of the night”. With that she kissed Alex on his head, and then left Val to dry Alex off and get him ready for bed. Leaving the bathroom and going back into Alex’s bedroom, the first thing Alex noticed layed out on his bed was the big white fluffy towelling nappy and the plastic pants that his mum had packed and sent with him.
  6. Something in the air The air was filled with magic, mayhem and maleficence. All Soul’s Night was upon us and, despite the streets being filled with kids dressed to induce laughter and fear in equal amounts in their pursuance of candy, there was something else, something indescribable, something intangible, something eerie about the approaching clouds. * John and Max were two sixteen year-olds who had lived all their lives in this small town, and, since they were three had spent kindergarten, elementary, middle and senior school together. They’re not related, just neighbours though it has to be said their mothers are the best of friends and so close that their husbands rarely get a look in without the other being present. In fact, John and Max think that their dads have made a pact to keep the women together so that they can spend more time on the golf course or in the clubhouse. The women, like the men, spend an inordinate amount of time in each other’s company. Maybe all small communities are the same but at times that closeness can be a bit suffocating. Take John and Max, they’ve hardly ever been apart; they can count the number of times they’ve been separated in days rather than months. They know what each other’s thinking and can easily anticipate how the near future will roll out - the same damn thing. * John looked out of the window to the scene below and sighed heavily. He, like his friend, regarded Halloween as ‘stupid’ and only for little kids so wasn’t really involved or impressed in the dressing up side of this particular occasion. Loads of youngsters of all ages, attired in their scary best, trekked up and down the street trading ‘Trick or Treats’. Their colourful outfits and all those garish garden props briefly (well for one night) producing a strange, peppy atmosphere to their normally quiet, dull suburb. The threatening cloud now engulfed the sky giving a different ghoulish quality to what was being played out below. Scary kids unexpectedly became frightened by the sudden loss of light and began to scatter. Parents scooped up their offspring, deciding on calling it an early night and hurried home. And then it started. * At first, as they looked on, people thought it was just rain but the streets weren’t getting wet. The white street lighting glowed orange and each source of brightness was surrounded by multiple murky halos. A creepy feeling invaded the souls over those still on the street, they were sure something lurked in the dark as they shivered in foreboding and fled to the safety of their homes. * The air was thick with something but even this weird meteorological phenomenon hadn’t piqued John’s interest that much. He harrumphed, fidgeted and grew restless as he stared down at the rapidly emptying street. It seemed the proper reaction for a teenage lad who’d grown tired of his surroundings. He sighed heavily once more - bored, bored, BORED. It was their own fault; both had been invited to the Halloween Celebrations at the Golf Club, where their parents had gone but Max and John decided they would like the prospect of a night without mom and dad in the picture. However, between them they hadn’t come up with a better plan and, now the weather threatened, were left wishing and hoping for something, anything to happen but doing nothing to make it so. With the darkness surrounding everything the boys expected some kind of storm but there was no distant rumbling, no streaks of bright lightning sparking the clouds into action. The stillness was deafening. * For the two teenagers the small town had become stifling, John felt it more than Max and was desperate to finish school and experience University life or, even better, leave this damn town altogether. However, being sixteen is a strange, and for him at least, an annoying age, where others still made his decision even though he felt grown up. He desperately wanted some excitement in his life, something to take him out of the ordinary, something different, maybe, something amazing! Max was feeling thirsty and asked his best mate if wanted anything to drink. John, sighing again but with his nose pressed to the window shook his head. Max toddled off to the fridge hopeful that there might be a beer or two to assuage his sudden craving. * A woman pushing a stroller along the street hurried to get out of that all-pervasive gloom. The baby, no more than nine months old, was crying, possibly also feeling the heavy murk that surrounded them as they proceeded on their way. Still thinking Max was in earshot and staring down at the lady and her baby, John said: “What I really want is a change.” At that moment, the sky lit up and the expected lightning flashed an extreme and sinister bolt of fuzzy blue light down onto the scurrying family of two. In that same instant John was bedazzled as the window where he was standing suddenly lit up with a similar effervescent blue glow. In that silent but bright second, lives changed. * When Max returned to the living room, delightedly slurping down the cool refreshing beer he’d hoped for, he was surprised to see a bunch of clothes, John’s clothes, lying discarded on the floor. Stranger still was the bulge underneath that was moving. He tentatively bent down to inspect what it might be and was surprised to see a small naked baby, sat looking vacantly up at him. * The lady with the stroller was stunned by the flash of electric blue light. She had been wishing that the baby would stop crying and was desperate for the small child to be over making such an awful din. Her nerves were shot at having to be completely at this little noise-machines beck and call twenty-four hours a day. She was secretly wishing for him to grow up. Not surprisingly the flash had briefly disorientated her but perhaps more surprising was to find a huge sixteen year-old baby crammed into a ripped onesie and ill-fitting diaper. The stroller keeled over and fell off the curb with the strange distribution of weight and the wailing, all-but naked baby was sent sprawling into the street. A baby’s cry may be piercing but when it had the lung development of a healthy teenager, that howl was incredible. A second later and the confused couple were zapped by another bolt of fluorescent light and disappeared. The street was empty as the darkness slowly began to ‘re-arrange itself'. * Max looked from the baby to his bottle of beer wondering just what was in the drink. Then he had another thought, this must be a clever and ingenious ‘trick’ that was being played out. He wasn’t sure how they had managed it but he smiled at the brilliance of the ‘joke’. He was feeling silly that for a moment at least he’d believed something magical had happened. Of course John couldn’t have been turned into a baby, that’s just ridiculous. He called out to his unseen ‘tricksters’ and then started searching for them. However, a chill ran down his spine when he realised there was no one else in the house. As it became abundantly clear he was alone with a baby, that chill quickly became an iceberg in the pit of his stomach. * Max returned to the living room looking nervously past the pile of clothes and at the naked little baby wriggling on its back. The slow, jerky movements and low murmuring were definitely that of a baby as he tried to think what to do. Thinking wasn’t easy because none of this made any sense and he was a teenage boy… so had no idea what to do with an infant. Their parents were out together so he and this tiny creature, o-oh he could now see it was definitely a boy, were the only people in the house. He approached the child again and was surprised to see that it looked like a baby John. The gurgles weren’t words but the eyes searched for focus and once it saw Max raised its arms out as if in acknowledgement and requesting to be picked up. Max didn’t want to go anywhere near him if he could avoid it but the sudden change of features on the baby proceeded a loud wail of distress. Max wanted to run, he wanted out of there, not only because of the noise the baby was making but, well, panic set in, he simply didn’t know what the hell was going on. However, with a small fountain of pee now arching in the air from the tiny visitor he knew he couldn’t leave an infant to its own devices. He wasn’t that much of an uncaring teen, but thought that the only way to stop it doing what it was doing was to comfort and clothe it in some way. * He rushed to the bathroom and returned with a towel, which he wrapped around the naked child. The blubbing stopped for a few seconds and then started again. Max cautiously picked the baby up and was happy when the crying stopped. He wrapped the towel more firmly around and gently rested him in his arms. As he gazed down at the bundle he was even more convinced that the baby was John, it had to be, even though every scrap of intelligence and reason told him that was impossible. However, here he was, cradling his best friend and trying to mollify the small child when a thought struck him. “How the hell was he going to explain THIS to John’s parents?” They weren’t expected back for a few hours yet so he was hopeful that this small bundle would somehow magically transform back to his friend. However, as he clasped his best mate he could feel a warm damp patch on his shirt. At first it didn’t register and then when he realised the baby was peeing itself his immediate reaction was to go “Uuurrgghh” and throw the poor wet baby away in disgust. However, he had to be careful… this was John and, despite his soaked shirt and jeans, he needed to get the baby into some better leak-proof protection. * He carried John to the bathroom and settled him in the washing basin so that he wouldn’t fall out. He stripped off his damp shirt and jeans thinking once he had John settled he could put his stuff in the wash. He definitely didn’t want to be wandering around the house smelling of his mate’s piss. Dressed only in his underpants Max searched through various draws and cupboards for another towel and something plastic to keep all the dampness in. He found a small soft pink fluffy hand-towel, which he assumed was John’s mother’s and, as that was the most babyish item, decided to use that. He also found some safety pins, lotion and talcum powder. Despite many misgivings and false starts he eventually had baby John cleaned up and thickly diapered; the thick pink towel seemingly engulfing the small infant but at least keeping everything else safe from any unexpected deluge. He’d found some plastic freezer bags that he fashioned into a pair of protecting pants and held them on with sticky tape, which he wound round the baby’s waist and legs – he just hoped that would hold things in place long enough until John’s parents returned. Notwithstanding the believability of the situation Max held the baby at arm’s length and was really quite proud of his handiwork. John was very bulky but at least well protected and there was even a little smile of thanks from the baby’s dribbly lips. Max had also found a piece of moulded plastic which he thought might serve as a pacifier and slipped it between his lips – the baby started sucking furiously. * “Oh God, Oh God, Oh God.” Was the sum total of words running through Max’s mind - panic and the belief that he was going mad producing no clear thought process at all. As the temporary paci fell from John’s lips and the start of blubbering could be heard emanating from that little screwed-up face he suddenly found another. “HELP” Earlier he remembered that when he picked the squirming infant up it seemed to soothe him a little so, although it was the last thing he wanted to do, he picked up the squalling baby, rocking him close to his chest. This was a mistake. * Max was still naked apart from his underpants and a little mouth, zoning in after millennia of evolution and guided by a natural human response to find a source of nourishment, latched on to the available nipple. “OW” The scream of shock that ran through Max made him pull that gripping little mouth quickly away from the hoped for food supply. John may not have any teeth but that sucker really tweaked his mate’s sensitive left nipple. The cry of disappointment from the small bundle of pink towel and plastic bags was louder than expected and any attempt to stifle it with the return of the pacifier was quickly spat out. Max had no alternative, until he could find some way of feeding John, he’d have to let him suck on his tit as it was the only way he knew to keep him quiet. Tentatively, he led the little searching mouth back to his nipple and screwed his face up in fearful anticipation as his best friend began to suck. “Owww, owwww, owwwww” He was amazed just how much suction that little orifice could generate and it was uncomfortable to say the least. Well to begin with at least. * Max carried his burden into the kitchen in search of some milk and a way of getting any that he found warmed and in a receptacle that a baby would be able to negotiate. There was milk in the fridge but despite an extensive search (with John still suckling on his nipple) hadn’t really found anything that might be usable to feed a baby. He thought about simply slowly tipping the bottle into the baby’s mouth but realised that couldn’t be done without drowning the poor little thing. That intense tight vacuum that pulled on his tit needed a bit of relief so he slowly prized his best friend away from his left nipple and aimed him towards the right. “Ow, ow….erm… mmmmm.” Max looked down at John who, with eyes closed, gently soothing himself as he drifted off to wherever baby’s go in their dreams. * Relieved for a few moments he needed to think. Max wasn’t the brightest lad in class but he knew he had to come up with a solution on how to feed his best friend before the tears of frustration and hunger really started. Eventually he found an empty plastic bottle with a pull top spout, he had no idea what it had been used for in the past but it looked clean and he was hopeful that after he’d washed it out a few times, it just might make a suitable baby’s bottle. Still carrying John clutched to his bosom, he set about boiling water and washing the bottle thoroughly. Throughout this process the little bundle never made a sound apart from the occasional slurp or satisfied suck. John’s warm little body being an actual comfort to Max as he went about his intended ‘patented baby feeding machine’. He was feeling good about it although kept checking the reliability of the pull-up spout that would seal in or let out the liquid. After about 30 minutes of washing and re-washing the bottle in the hope of getting it relatively hygienic he warmed up some milk before pouring it into the plastic bottle. * Thankfully he hadn’t boiled the liquid only warmed it up, that was something he knew about babies, but that seemed the total of his knowledge. However, he was learning rapidly as he found it difficult getting all the stuff poured into the narrow neck without spilling. With a child on one arm and a saucepan in the other it was a very tricky manoeuvre. Eventually the bottle was full and he tried the ingenious dispenser himself. He sucked and the milk came out. He wasn’t a fan of milk in the first place and this method of drinking it didn’t help much at all. However, it worked to some degree and had to hope that John would be able to negotiate the patented ‘Max’s, maximum, milk machine’ the triple ‘M’ (Max was never very good at math). He tentatively pulled the small though powerful sucking mouth away, sat on the sofa and fed the apparatus between the baby’s lips. Droplets of milk must have teased the child’s taste buds because after only a few seconds the need to feed overcame any other thoughts as John started sucking. * Twenty minute later and the bottle was empty. John’s unfocused eyes and wobbly head gave the impression he was tired after such an effort but Max was actually elated that not only had his improvised bottle worked but that he’d fed his mate. However, just as that pleased tingle was circulating around his body that little face in front of him screwed up and began to bawl. Pressing the baby to his tit didn’t have the desired effect this time, he just didn’t latch on and the crying intensified as well as some agitated squirming. Max wasn’t sure what to do but after a couple of minutes of this wailing he wondered if the baby needed winding. He slid John up onto his shoulder and gently patted the baby’s back. To his surprise and pleasure a huge burp and fart was followed by silence except for some tiny little wriggles and gurgling. He slipped the pretend paci between John’s lips and watched as the baby closed his eyes and sucked contentedly. Relief followed and Max felt as exhausted as the baby. He spread himself out on the sofa and held John close to his chest and, feeling he’d done what he could, fell into a deep sleep. * At midnight the fuzzy orange halo that surrounded the street lights burst into an electric blue and then scattered in many directions although some streaks gathered at the window of a certain house. If you stared closely enough you would have seen thousands and thousands of little blue imps talking and giggling to themselves as they peered through the glass and saw the two bodies huddled on the sofa; a little pink diapered baby and an all but naked youth lying fast asleep in his underpants. The giggling intensified as the town clock struck for the final time indicating that Hallow’s Eve was over and the imps must return things back to normal. However, the giggling intensified as the little neon blue characters held a quick discussion and made a decision. * As John’s mother and father approached their drive they were shocked by the sudden dramatic appearance right in front of their car of a woman pushing a stroller. She looked as surprised as the car’s occupants and, still terrified by her near death experience, rushed on her way shaking her head looking decidedly confused and more than a little distressed. “Stupid bloody woman,” John’s father mumbled under his breath. “She could have been killed.” “Now, now sweetheart… just think… you’ve had a couple of drinks so…” As they turned into their drive his wife left the insinuation hanging in the air. Once the car had pulled up she got out and made her way to the front door. She tried to be quiet as she didn’t want to wake her son if he should be asleep. However, when she entered the living room she was in for a bit of a shock. Lying out on the sofa was her son, who for some reason was wrapped in a small pink towel and his friend Max who was also laid out wearing only his underpants. They made quite an interesting picture and John’s mother, thinking the scene was cute, smiled, produced her mobile and quickly snapped off a couple of photographs of the recumbent pair. * It must have been the flashes that registered in Max’s brain. It took him a few seconds to wake up and realise where he was. As he focused he could see John’s mother stood looking down at him and moments later realised that his best mate was snuggled up with his face rubbing in a sea of slick saliva against his nipple. To say he was shocked would have been an understatement. To say that the shock turned to embarrassment almost immediately was not. To add fuel to the bizarre situation John’s father appeared in the doorway. “What the fu…….” The image of his son wearing a tiny pink towel (not completely wrapped around his groin and with bits of tape and ripped plastic hanging from parts of his body) was an image he would have preferred not to see. The fact that he was drooling over his best friend who was wearing only his underwear told a story that his father had hoped not to have to know about for many years to come, if ever. For some reason John’s mother found the entire scene amusing and chuckled to herself as her irate husband tried to find words to express, well, whatever he thought was appropriate for such a situation. Alas words failed him and he found himself huffing and puffing in some kind of angry indignation as his son eventually woke up. * To begin with John’s orientation was all over the place and he didn’t comprehend why his mother and father were staring at him. He then clocked a surprised and anxious looking Max before realising that his best friend was naked. He pulled away and stood up only to find that the towel that had adhered itself to his genitals began, under the weight of a rather wet slumber, to peel away. Once he sensed that his covering, as flimsy as it was, was slipping away he grabbed and held it tightly against his cock trying to hide his naked embarrassment. “What the bloody hell…” It seemed that John’s father was desperate to say something but just didn’t know what exactly those words should be. “Just, er, can you…” No, it was no good he just couldn’t find a phrase that seemed in the least bit suitable. Both boys stood there speechless, one in a soaked pair of briefs, whilst the other clutched a sodden towel against his groin. They were stunned into inaction by fear and a lack of comprehension as to what exactly had gone on. John had no idea how he ended up as he was and Max was struggling with how to explain what had happened when he didn’t know himself. The only positive Max could think of was that at least John was no longer a small dependent child. However, that would have explained the situation… if it wasn’t so unbelievable. Eventually John’s mother spoke. “Well you boys certainly seem to have had a little Halloween party of your own.” The tone in her voice and emphasis on certain key words, together with her raised eyebrows, signified that she knew precisely what had gone on and it was nothing to do with Halloween. The boys shivered in humiliation. “You two have known each other long enough to know what, er, you want…” She was inferring she understood when two boys get naked together but, try as they might, at that moment neither Max nor John were able to find an argument to dissuade her from her assumption. They were terror struck to the spot and mute with lack of being able to give details as to how they ended up as they had. “I’m not sure why you thought it necessary to involve my hand towel.” She pointed at the heavily hanging soaked item that was slightly dripping onto the carpet. That milk might have been a good idea at one time but now was soaked into everything. “But I’m sure you boys have a suitable explanation of why you want to wet yourselves?” * John’s father stormed out of the room unable to hear any more of this type of talk, whilst his wife, seemingly enjoying her son’s and his friend discomfort, waited for some sort of reply. They both shuffled nervously hoping that she would let them go. John could see his pile of clothes by the window, whilst Max knew his were in the washing machine. However, John’s mother wanted to investigate the situation for a while longer. She noticed the bottle on the floor and asked for an explanation. Max could only mumble something about milk and feeding… but the full account failed him. He knew the circumstances but they sounded pathetic and a feeble excuse so remained silent and bewildered. “Well,” she finally said, “it appears to me that you two young love birds have found something you both enjoy.” The words of protest were silenced as she held up her hand and shook her head as if to say there was no point in denying it, the proof… was simply scattered all about them and drooping between John’s thighs. “Now, in this day and age it’s all quite acceptable, although your father may not agree, but if you are going to play at being babies I would be grateful if you wouldn’t involve any of my things.” They both shook their heads desperately wanting to refute what she was saying but, as she’d pointed out, the naked evidence and soaked undies was pretty damning. “Anyway, so that you don’t need to include my towels in your future juvenile adventures, tomorrow I’ll buy some disposables and plastic pants and then you won’t have to… and…” She indicated the soaked underwear and then said with another tone that meant she would tolerate no argument. “I shall look forward to seeing my two sweet little boys playing together. It will be like it used to be when you were babies… and we all had a great deal of fun then.” * As she turned to leave she checked her phone, the photographs had come out perfectly. In future both boys would do exactly as commanded and that would definitely include spending a lot of time wearing diapers in the house. If they refused; those images might just end up on all manner of social media. Had the boys dared to look up they might have seen, for a brief moment, a flash of blue fuzzy neon light behind her eyes. After all, hadn’t John said – he wanted a change? **********************
  7. 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
  8. Little cub daycare (private with babywyatt)

    (Continued from last post of later version) "Sweetie, you can't take something what don't belong to you." said sternly Sammy and gave pacifier to fox girl. She also gave Brooke her own pacifier which would make her really gentle for other. She then left room.
  9. Furry nursery

    Hey, I want to make rp about furry who wakes up in strange daycare. What he/she is discovering is that the daycare is slowly regressing him/her. And our character can decide if want to escape from that place or accept its new babyhood and stay there forever. If somebody want to do that just give me sign..
  10. SnuggleBunny It was a sad occasion. My mother had recently died and I was clearing out her home. In the attic were several boxes of her mementos but one had my name on it. It contained all my clothes, photos, albums and a host of things from my childhood going back as far as to when I was a baby. In fact, pride of place, at the top of the pile was SnuggleBunny, my stuffed toy that went everywhere with me as a child. It was a very strange emotion. I may well be a twenty-seven year-old adult but I hadn’t seen, or thought about it… well him actually… for over 20 years. However, with him sitting in the box, all cute and furry, I just wanted to pick him up and have a huge hug. Placed next to him, almost as if he was holding it in one of his paws, was a photograph of me. I must have been about 2 years-old at the time as I was still dressed in just my diapers, with my one year-old sister Emily sitting on the floor – and I was holding ‘Snuggles’ by one of his long ears. I remember he never left my side. We did everything together, played, ate, slept… SnuggleBunny and me… we were inseparable. When I hugged him I could feel him hugging me right back, it was as if he was welcoming me to a time I’d left far too soon. We were very happy then when mommy and daddy… er… when… errrmm… whe… mommeeeee………. ***************** “Mommeeeee,” I cried because I was wet. I could feel the dampness in my diaper and I suspect it must have been like that for some time as it was all cold and … Hold on, this doesn’t seem right. I look down. Yes, I am wearing a diaper. A very soggy diaper and I’m guiltily chewing on Snuggles’ ear while I wait for mommy to come. Those ears are well soaked themselves with a couple of years of me sucking on them when I want to feel comforted and I… No, no, no. What’s going on? I can see I’m dressed like in the photograph but… ah… I must be dreaming. That’s it. I’ve just fallen asleep and I’m dreaming of my childhood. Phew, I thought I was going mad for a moment then but… Dadddeeee. “Come here my little wet Puppy,” He had his arms spread as wide as the smile on his face as I waddled over to him and let him wrap those strong arms around me. He pats my butt. “Mmm you are one wet little boy aren’t you? Let’s get you changed before you get a rash.” He effortlessly picks me up and of course Snuggles comes along too, we are rarely separated as he carries me into… my nursery? Hell, what is going on? How can I be so conscious of all this and yet… I’m a child, a toddler and my father has been dead since I was six. But, but, erm, it really is good to see him again. I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed him every day of every year since he died and now… he’s here if only in my dreams. I cry and hug tightly onto my father’s neck. I don’t want to let go. I have my daddy back. Oh God this is weird and wonderful all at the same time. In all those years I’ve never had an experience like this, where my father, my daddy, is so real and… He lays me down on the counter and slowly unpins my diaper. “Who’s a soggy little tyke?” He smiles and tickles my tummy and I giggle and laugh and wriggle as he pulls the damp material away. As he wipes and powders me dry he’s making noises to keep me amused; blowing raspberries and counting my toes while singing a little rhyme. I love my daddy. I love my mommy as well but she isn’t here. Oh no. As I lay wriggling on the counter I realise that both my parents are dead… yet here he is… my daddy, changing me like he used to do. “There you are champ.” He says as he pulls up a pair of plastic pants over my diaper. “Let’s find you some pants” and goes over to the closet and gets my favourite shorts with the animals all over them. Oh yes. I’d forgotten all about them. I wonder if mom kept them as well. They were nice. Daddy pulls them over my diaper, pats my padded bottom and sends me out to play. Snugglebunny is with me so we carry on playing the game we were in the middle of when I realised I was wet. Snugglebunny is smiling. I’m smiling. I’m so happy. It’s a lovely hot day outside. Emily is asleep in mommy’s arms as she sits lazing in the garden under the shade from a tree. Daddy is bringing out lemonade for us all and I rush over to join them on the blanket that has been set out. It’s covered in Em’s toys so I sit with Snuggles and happily play with her stuff while she sleeps, and while mommy and daddy chat quietly about their day. I shake my head. I know this is ideal but, I really need to wake up and get on with clearing out the attic. How can I think that when I’m busy playing. Snuggles thinks I’m being silly and I feel worried about… something… I’m not sure what… I’m twenty-seven not two, although I am two. I look around and the voices in my head are screaming ‘WAKE UP’ in my twenty-seven year-old voice but look at me… I’m sitting in a diaper and plastic pants, drinking my juice from a bottle and hugging a stuffed animal that is… Snugglebunny wants us to relax and enjoy the sunshine. Mommy is saying something to daddy about my diaper and that she should try and get me potty trained as soon as possible. I just play with Em’s toys and feel… happy. STOP IT, stop it. Stop it. You have work, you have a business to run, you have a wife to get home to… that voice in my head is getting insistent but I snuggle my bunny and all is well. The warm sun, mommy and daddy, Em asleep and my stretching out on the blanket feeling dry and comfortable… why would I want to change anything? ***** SnuggleBunny 2 I was dozing but it was getting warmer and more uncomfortable. I woke up and the sun was streaming through the little arched window in the attic and right into my eyes, it took me a few seconds to remember just where I was. Specks of dust flitted through the rays and appeared to dance, float and perform just for me, I searched around for my parents and my sister but alas, they were no longer with me. I was alone and back searching through mum’s carefully stored items from her life. Because of the memory (dream) I’d just experienced my heart was sad. I’d been united with my family at a time when we were at our happiest and I was sorry to leave it behind. I really did have work to do and I had a wife of my own now. I shrugged my shoulders to myself, things hadn’t been going very well in that area, she wasn’t interested in me anymore and in truth, I couldn’t blame her, I was not the man she married. That fun, carefree spirit she loved had disappeared under the weight of responsibility, not just for her but the firm that I’d built up to support us. I looked back across the attic to the boxes that held a lifetime of memories and was drawn once again to SnuggleBunny. I smiled as I remembered just what this old, stuffed animal had done for me. When I held him, he cheered me up - when I sucked on his ear, he pacified me – when we slept together, he reassured me that the world was safe. I picked him up… **** “OK my little trooper…” it was daddy lifting me onto his shoulders, “hold on tight.” And he galloped with me riding high around the garden. I was giggling and enjoying myself as he ‘jumped’ imaginary hurdles and made noises of horse’s hooves and whinnying. In the background I could hear Emily playing with her favourite toy… a teddy that squeaked. She was sat in the shade and like me, wore only a diaper, it was far too hot to be covered in clothes. Mommy turned on the garden sprinkler and I went off to play in that, jumping in and out of its gentle wafting flow. At certain angles daddy showed me what a rainbow was and I was engrossed in trying to reach and touch it. SnuggleBunny joined me as I skipped over the spray getting a cooling soak but by the time I had grown tired of this little game my diaper was hanging down to my knees. “Oh-Oh,” Mommy said, “we should have taken him out of that first and let him run around naked… oh well, too late now but I think he needs to get out of that sagging thing.” At the back of my mind I knew there was something really important I should be doing… but for the life of me I couldn’t remember what. Something to do with… no… can’t remember. Daddy dried me as I dried Snuggles and pretty soon I was back in a fresh clean diaper that daddy packed me into and pinned tightly to my small frame. That’s it. I’m supposed to be… erm… packing… something to do with… erm… diapers? No… packing… I’m not sure… I made Snuggles a diaper out of a piece of cloth that I’d found next to Em, I suppose she’d been playing around with it at some point but now she was crawling around as mum pulled one of her toys on a string. Mummy found a pin and made sure that Snuggles was as tightly in his diaper as I was. I hugged Snuggles as I followed daddy whilst he did a spot of gardening and telling me the names of the plants, which I thought I already knew. He pointed to a little bush and told me that it had been planted when I was born and that when I was older it would flower and remind me that mommy and daddy and Emily all loved me. He patted my padded bottom and told me how much he loved me now and he always would… Older… that was it… older. I am older. I can’t be here. I’m not a child. I’m not a baby… I’m not… Daddy ruffled my hair, then bent down and pretended to ruffle Snuggles’s hair… although he didn’t have any. “OK sport, time to plant a bush for Emily. Do you want to help?” I nodded and held up Snuggles hoping that this indicated that he’d help as well. “Let’s dig a little hole.” He passed me a small implement and I began to prod the ground in an attempt to make a hole. Dad was very encouraging and… What am I doing? I can’t stay here… I have things to do (although it was becoming less and less clear as to what exactly that might be) I need to be… er… going… coming… digging…? I was sat back on the blanket under the tree throwing Snuggles up into the air and catching him. His expression said he was enjoying this game immensely… and so was I. In fact, I was so happy and comfortable I never wanted to leave the garden. Mommy and daddy seemed so happy, Em was gurgling and smiling so I suppose she was happy and… if I had my way… we would always stay this way. I crawled between daddy’s legs and settled on his lap. “You OK champ?” he said as he blew raspberries against my bellybutton. I squealed with delight until he cuddled me as tightly as I cuddled Snuggles... I never wanted this to end. ******************************************************************************
  11. Sam’s Return Part 1 Little Jamie Peacock was having the best party ever. His mummy and daddy had laid on the very best in snacks ‘n’ food ‘n’ sweets ‘n’ sodas and… well everything a party for six year-olds needs. He had all his 1st and 2nd grade chums from school, about twenty of them in total, playing the best games, having the best music and great entertainment, all hosted in the Peacock’s huge back garden. Jamie’s mummy, Samantha, and his daddy, George, loved their little boy and because he was doing so well at school, and becoming a ‘big boy’, they wanted to make this event, his sixth birthday celebration, one he’d always remember. A range of noisy kids seemed to be having a fantastic time. Lots of laughter and screaming, food and prizes (it had been arranged by the Peacocks that everyone would win a prize), so no one would be going home empty-handed. There was enough going on to keep any kid happy. * Samantha and George couldn’t keep up with all the comings and goings as new kids arrived and some were picked up by their parents. It wasn’t that late but some parents get worried if their child is still hyper and excitable after 5pm, they see it as the indication of a hectic and troubled night ahead for themselves. They want to see their little darlings all calm and settled well before bedtime. * Anyway, the kids were all dressed up and both boys and girls looked wonderful in their party outfits. Of course, being in their Summery best didn’t stop any of them charging about or sliding around on the lush lawns. The Peacock’s back garden was made for children to have fun and it was good to see their son had so many friends to enjoy it with. The magician had the kids spellbound as he produced a fantastic selection of animals from seemingly nowhere. Meanwhile, balloon man, the bouncy castle and array of fun games held others captive. Through the crowd Mr Peacock noticed one young person was sat alone who didn’t seem to be getting involved with all the merriment. At first he could just see the head and thought it was a very sweet, shy, good-looking boy because his blond hair was cut short and very boyish. But then, as the sea of kids parted slightly he noticed the pretty pink satin party dress she was wearing. The nervy looking child glanced sideways at him before averting her eyes in a bashful manner that George thought looked really quite endearing. She was certainly dressed for a party; her satin pink frock with the large pink bows, lacy sleeves and her sweet little pink ankle socks and matching pink patent leather shoes, showed that her parents cared for their daughter. However, her clothing wasn’t very current; in fact, her outfit looked more like a child (or baby) would wear in the 1960’s. Another point was that because of her very short hair, her sex was very confusing. She could have been a beautiful effeminate boy or a handsome little tomboy but whichever he or she was, they were definitely very pretty indeed. * She sat down on the lawn and her dress revealed a surprise to the on-looking adult. Under all the silky satin and intricate lacework she was wearing quite a bulky diaper and plastic pants. The plastic was, like her dress, incredibly shiny, the slightly opaque material showing a full white fabric diaper pinned tightly in place. As far as Mr Peacock had noticed, she was the only six year-old attending the party still needing such protection. However, Mr Peacock thought she looked adorable. There was something very charming about someone that age still in diapers, it made them still a child and not desperate to grow up. However, he wondered if her shyness was because of this juvenile piece of clothing and maybe felt a little too inhibited to join in with the rest of the kids. * He remembered his own, long journey through potty training. He’d been in diapers until her age and it had caused him a great deal of grief from his family and school friends. Thankfully, those genes hadn’t been passed on and his son Jamie who had been toilet-trained before his second birthday. Their four year-old daughter Adele though was still struggling with her potty training and although could avoid daytime accidents, she was fully protected at night. * However, he felt sorry for this timid, sweet young girl who gave the impression of being scared to do anything more than sit on her own. The other kids appeared to be ignoring her or perhaps were just more involved in having fun, whatever the reason George thought he should go over and try to get her engaged in the party. “Uh hello,” George opened his friendly banter, “I’m Jamie’s dad… are you enjoying the party?” The young girl wriggled uncomfortably under this adult’s gaze. George was thrilled to hear the slight rustle of her plastic pants as she did so. “Are you in Jamie’s class?” Again she awkwardly wriggled; she didn’t seem to notice that in doing so it revealed more of her diaper. George smiled and shook his head knowing how being the only one in diapers felt. However, he thought he’d made some kind of connection with this awkward little girl on that level at least. * George noticed the small colourful party bag at her side, which at least meant, like all the other kids, she’d actually won a prize. The bag contained candy, a wrapped piece of Jamie’s birthday cake, a little toy, a puzzle, crayons and a book. The children would normally only collect them when they were leaving as they wouldn’t want to carry them around if they were playing. “Ah, I see you’ve got your goody-bag are you about to go?” A huge sigh left the little girl’s chest and her face scrunched up as if she was about to cry. “Mummy is going to be cross,” she sniffled in a way that only a child can do. George was immediately concerned. “Why is that sweetheart?” “Mummy said I had to be back before 5, and, and…” She tried to hold back the tears. “It’s nearly that now and I can’t find my friend.” “Ohh don’t cry. Did someone bring you and now they’ve gone off without you?” The huge tear drop that fell to the ground was all the answer George needed. “Well sweetheart why don’t I take you home and explain to mummy just what’s happened?” Her face seemed to have a grateful look as she picked herself up off the lawn, grabbed her bag and reached to hold George’s hand. “I’ll just tell my wife what we’re doing and then…” But the little girl had increased her grip and was leading Mr Peacock from the garden and out to his car in the drive. * He didn’t get chance to tell his wife, or anyone else for that matter, what he was doing as the girl climbed in and buckled herself in the rear seat. George took the driver’s position and turned on the ignition. “OK sweetheart where are we going?” “Thank you mister… I live near the Shires.” George knew the Shires were the latest big development near Snickerty Wood. There was uproar at the time of planning because some protesters thought the woods themselves would be cut down to make way for the houses. In the end their fears were unjustified. However, he briefly thought that was a long way for a young girl to have travelled but remembered she’d come with someone else. “What’s your address honey?” Mr Peacock asked as he put the car into gear. “Mummy and me have just moved there so, er, I don’t know the number… but… I know the way once we get there.” “Are you sure?” He looked in the rear-view mirror so he could see his passenger’s reaction. She could see him looking so nodded. * He looked at the digital display on the car’s clock, 16.45, he reckoned it would take him about twenty minutes to get there and hoped her mother wouldn’t be too angry with her little girl. They pulled away and headed towards Snickerty Wood. As he drove he engaged his young passenger in conversation. “What’s your name?” “Sam,” was the one word answer. “Oh, as in Samantha? Mrs Peacock’s name is Samantha…” He trailed off but glad he’d made another connection with this little girl. “Sam.” She insisted was her name. “Oh, er, OK, Sam.” Mr Peacock knew how precious some kids were about their name. Jamie hated being called James and when he was always corrected them - ‘JAMIE’ - he would insist, although his father wondered how long that would last before he demanded the more grown-up version of his name. “Do you like your new school?” “Hu huh.” He could see her gazing out of the window now distracted by the buildings as they passed by. “What’s your favourite thing to do?” “Painting.” She responded excitedly. “I like painting flowers and my mummy has put my latest one up on the wall… she says it’s very good.” She looked happy about that and George, happy he’d now engaged Sam, continued asking about school. “Are you in the same class as Jamie?” She bobbed her head from side to side as if listening to some internal music and played with the lacy frills on the hem of her satin dress. “My painting is of my house, er, and my cat and, er, the woods and er…” The conversation continued but George was only able to elicit one or two word answers from this shy little girl. She seemed to run out of her enthusiasm for chatting though it didn’t matter as they were nearly at the Shires but unfortunately roadworks were delaying them slightly and it was already 5pm. * As they waited in the line of traffic Mr Peacock turned to look at his passenger belted into the rear seat. She was pulling at the hem of her dress, which revealed more of her protection. He could make out, now he was closer, her diaper was thick and fluffy, and could even see the two large pink pins that held it all together through the shiny plastic. He also noticed there was a small chain around the waistband and a silver lock at the front. It looked a little more substantial than something designed only for decoration. * He remembered as a kid, when he was having trouble wetting the bed, his parents had insisted that he wear protection and at night he’d often wriggle out of it. He thought he was a big boy at six years-old and hated having to wear a diaper. There solution for his parents was to put him lockable protection so only they could have access and he’d have to wait until they decided when he needed a change. He hated what his young mind thought as harsh judgment but he stayed in his plastic prison for over a year. * Sam didn’t appear to be aware she was showing off her underwear to an adult and sweetly asked what Mr Peacock’s favourite colour was. “Blue.” He quickly answered. “Mine’s pink.” She responded. “Well, I can see that,” he said indicating her satin dress. “Your dress is very nice and really suits you.” She giggled and wriggled in pleasure and embarrassment. “Mummy makes all my clothes… she made me this one special… she says I’m her ‘Little Princess’.” With that she dug into her goody bag and pulled out a bag of Tiny Tots candy. Mr Peacock noticed the name on the wrapping in the rear view mirror and wondered, although it was appropriate, when his wife had added more packets of candy to the goodie-bag. He shook his head at the thought of the complaints they’d get from some parents if their child developed diabetes from too much sugar. Meanwhile, Sam sorted out four small round blue heart-shaped pieces and offered them to Mr Peacock. “No thanks sweetie… I’m not hung…” He noticed that Sam’s face changed from a happy smile to a look of complete sadness. He realised that the offer was one of friendship and refusal was like refusing to be friends. “On second thoughts Sam, they look lovely… and they’re blue… my favourite colour… yeah!” “I’m having the pink and red ones.” She said gleefully and shovelled them into her mouth. Mr Peacock did the same with his just as the traffic began to move again. * Once through the roadworks they were into the Shires. “Where to now sweetie?” George was sucking on the mouthful of candy. “Down towards the wood.” George knew this part of the road well. He and his wife, like a lot of young couples, would come down to the car park at the edge of the woods to make out. Happy memories floated into his mind as he started down the single track road that led there. “Sweetie, are you sure this is the way, I think it’s just a car park down…” He knew in less than fifty yards the lane swung to the left and they’d be in the parking lot but Sam called out to take the next right. “But there isn’t a road to the…” He was wrong. There on the right was a little rutted track leading off into another bit of the wood. He’d seen this dense, overgrown area before but had never noticed the track before. “I live at the end of here.” Sam said enthusiastically. “I hope mummy won’t be too upset.” * To be continued… Part 2 As he pulled up outside a sweet little cottage George wondered how come he didn’t know about this place. He’d lived around here all his life but hadn’t noticed any of this before. He felt a bit weird as he got out of the car, opened the rear door and helped Sam out. “Would you like me to speak with your mummy?” “Ohh yes please,” she screamed excitedly, her diapers and satin dress rustling as she ran to the front door. For some reason George’s heart was racing and he was having problems getting his breath. Sam ran back, grabbed his hand and almost dragged him into the cottage. “Mummy, mummy, mummy… I’m home.” There was a moments silence before a far off concerned voice called back a muffled reply; “Where have you been Samuel?” * A woman wearing rubber gloves as if she’d just been washing up entered the room. She was early thirties, buxom, blonde and very, very pretty. George, who was already having trouble breathing, could hardly get his breath he was so captivated with her beauty. Forgetting her earlier question she noticed the visitor and tentatively questioned Sam. “And who is this nice gentleman?” Before she could reply George gathered his wits together. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I’m George Peacock, Jamie’s father…” He reached out his hand. Removing her wet rubber gloves Sam’s mother showed no sign of recognition. “You know, where the birthday party… for my son… Jamie… er, “ Even though she was shaking his hand none of this was making sense at all. “Sammmm,” she drew out the name, “have you got something to tell me?” “Yes mummy. You said if I could find a replacement… I’d be free… I, er, I found someone…” In a coy way she swayed from side to side, her shiny satin dress shimmering in the different changes of light. At the same time she scooted the toe of her shiny pink leather shoe coquettishly across the carpet. Meanwhile, her shiny protection, hanging provocatively just below her hemline was only adding to the image of a beautiful bashful toddler. She looked both cute and worried. * George wasn’t taking too much notice of the exchange between mother and daughter as his stomach was suddenly racked with pain, his head throbbed and he felt as weak as a kitten. He fell to the floor holding his chest and sides, unable to decide which hurt most. It was as if he was about to explode and it didn’t help that the room itself began to whirl in the most dramatic fashion. “So,” Sam’s mother continued, “you want to leave? I see you’ve already administered Tiny Tots” “Yes mummy, about five minutes ago, he got the special blue ones, er, it’s his favourite colour…” Sam wasn’t sure what her next move should be but went ahead anyway. “It’s time… and I’ve followed your rules… I’ve brought another baby to take my place.” “Well Sammy, I don’t know what to say. I thought you liked being mummy’s little poppet. Mummy’s special little sweetheart, I thought you liked all the pretty clothes I make for you. I…” “Yes mummy, it’s all very nice but I want, er, I want to be, er,” her little voice softened to a nervous whisper, “grown up again.” * Her mother looked at her with resignation on her face. “Well Samuel, I had hoped we’d be together for ever.” Then mummy suddenly had another idea. “What about you now having a little sister… wouldn’t that be nice?” She said with some enthusiasm and hope. “Someone to play with, someone you can dress up and go out together…?” Sam started crying and filling her diaper. “But mummy, you said if I ever found a replacement you’d let me go…” The tears streamed down her face as she thought her mummy wasn’t going to keep to her side of the bargain. * Whilst this discussion continued George’s body began to change. He shrunk. His clothes fell from him as his body reduced through the age groups and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He was in so much pain and modification he heard himself making a noise but no coherent words could be heard. * Mummy looked down at the pile of clothes and saw the sweet naked one year-old crying at her feet unable to tell her how much he was hurting. “OK Samuel, if you’re sure. A promise is a promise and I think we should always keep those.” She ruffled Sam’s short blond hair. “Let’s get your new baby sister into her crib and then we’ll get you sorted…” She picked up the squirming baby George and carried him over to the changing table. “I think Georgie is a lovely girl’s name… do you want to diaper her?” She added as a sort of afterthought. Mummy looked down at her new baby; those unfocused big eyes looking wide and terrified, a thumb already between his lips, and little chubby legs thrusting the air as if trying to get away… but all to no avail. “Look at her little pee-pee… such a shame… oh well, we’ll keep that hidden away from now on so she won’t have to worry about it anymore.” She cleaned Georgie up, covered her in powder and slipped the pouting and confused infant into a thick fluffy white diaper. She pinned her firmly in place and easily held her as she tried to wriggle free. “Now now Georgie.” Mummy said in mock reproach as she held her baby up to inspect the diaper was properly in place. “We’ll have none of that… be a good little girl like Samuel’s been… and we’ll have a wonderful time together.” * George’s mind couldn’t comprehend what was happening as Sam helpfully slid a pair of plastic pants like the ones she was wearing over the newly fitted bulky diaper. Mummy pulled a pink onesie over the baby’s head and snapped that into place. ‘Mummy’s Little Princess’ it said in sparkly letters across the front but George (now to be forever called Georgie) couldn’t understand and, as she was lifted up, her head waggled uncontrollably from side to side. She tried to speak again but all that came out were spit bubbles and murmurs. “OK, I’ll just put her down in the crib for now and then I’ll attend to you.” Sam had cheered up immensely now she knew freedom wasn’t far away. Mummy was keeping her promise and Sam couldn’t wait to be grown up again - it had been many, many years since she was… well… she only had a brief notion of who she was or how old she might have been before she became part of mummy’s life. * She couldn’t quite remember how it happened but every now and then she’d get a flashback to a past life and wonder what had happened. In the flashbacks she was a man - he had, well something else but Sam couldn’t remember. She didn’t remember that much about anything other than mummy. Mummy was always there. She brought her up and looked after her but a couple of years ago, Sam’s flashbacks started to get more intense. * For mummy it had started in Salem many years before; a time of terrible trouble, rumour, suspicion and fear. A time when friend turned against friend, neighbour against neighbour and husband against wife. It was a time of strange medicines, bizarre incantations, promising potions and for some, a consolidation of mysterious powers. When some unscrupulous husbands saw this mass upheaval as an opportunity for change, many wives met an unpleasant termination at the hands of the religious courts. Some however found a way to fight back. One young wife, grieving the recent loss of her baby daughter was also terrified by her husband’s fearful temper and demand for an heir. With the infant barely cold his anger at his young wife made him threaten to condemn her to the church as the harbinger of all the town’s ills. His drunken and sneering contempt changed when he ate a special meal his timid wife prepared. Overnight she lost a scary husband but gained an adorable baby, one to replace the one so recently lost, but one she would always love. However, the special potion mixed into the herby stew had another, unexpected element; a constituent that the new mother came to embrace as a positive… the transformed youngster was kept from the ravages of age and never developed past the age of a six year-old… so mama was always mama. She’d found, over the years, her powers developed and was able to do many wonderful things. However, some things were beyond her powers and she had to accept the limitations that came with those she had. * Because of mummy’s experience at the hands of her violent and abusive husband she preferred girls but was only able to change men to boy babies. Still, it didn’t matter because she always treated them in such a way that they identified with being a girl eventually anyhow. Mummy wasn’t keen on the ‘penis’ thing. She didn’t like them and always found them annoying because it led men to think they were somehow superior and entitled because of it. However, as she had no choice in the babies she nurtured over those years, she’d found a way of simply obliterating that element… and that was… by keeping it well hidden behind thick padding. Which meant the boys, as they grew up but didn’t progress much past toddler status, had no idea they were anything other than the little girl they’d been brought up to be. During that time men had come into her life and some had stayed… unknowingly being transformed into a sweet little ‘girl’. It’s not like she could wave a wand and somehow magically make the man’s penis disappear now is it? * However, tragedy and circumstances caught up with her and she had to take flight and hide. There were people who knew about her powers and wanted them for themselves or at least curtail hers. The ‘forever children’ as her family of tots became known were all captured and taken away. She barely escaped with her life but through ingenuity and manipulation of a fragment in time closed the door on her pursuers. A new life in a new time was found and the baby she’d managed to cling to throughout it all, Samuel, went with her. * Mummy slipped a pacifier into the crying mouth of her new baby. Georgie may not have wanted it but soon found nursing on the thick rubber nipple very comforting. “Right Sammy, last chance… are you sure you want to be grown up? Mummy wasn’t sure. Sam was the first one of her ‘daughters’ to actually request such a return. “Yes mummy please, please, PLEASE…” Sam pleaded. * Sam didn’t know mummy by any other name. As she grew from a baby to as she was now, it had always been mummy. Mummy was nice, mummy was kind, mummy was funny and knew loads of fun games. Mummy made her lovely clothes… mummy lavished her ‘little princess’ with nothing but love. Mummy had always looked the same. Mummy’s world was her daughter. Time didn’t matter when with mummy. * Mummy stripped her daughter out of the pretty pink satin dress, slipped off her shoes and socks, unlocked the chain (a simple device to stop anyone from changing her daughter and thus discovering the truth). It was an intensely significant moment that meant freedom for Sam and when mummy pulled down her plastic pants she shivered in anticipation. Then the thing mummy had lovingly done for so many decades, and one thing she never tired of, slowly unpinned and removed her little girl’s soaked diaper. Mummy loved dressing up her ‘babies’. She had a vast array of clothing going back many years that she liked to use and was never happier than when making some new girlishly pretty item. She never potty trained any of her ‘girls’, she just wanted to keep them happy and dependent in their snug and childish protection. Mummy loved to watch as her diapered little tots slowly grew up. She adored when they could speak but were not in the least bit worldly and treasured each moment when they were cute but not knowingly so. She gained a great deal of diaper satisfaction from the fact that in their reality they never got past the age of a pre-schooler and so looked to mummy for all their needs. * However, over the past couple of years Sam had proved different from the others. Her flashbacks had gotten more intense and although she was still only a little girl she asked mummy many questions. Mummy never lied to her children, mainly because they never asked anything too searching but Samuel was different. So, when she asked why she was having these ‘visions’ of a past life mummy tried to explain. None of the explanation sounded possible but Sam asked if there was a way out of being a little girl. Mummy had explained the only way to change her life… was to bring in a new one. For over a year Sam had searched for the right person and it was only by luck and a vague connection she had when first seeing George Peacock, that she thought it might just be possible. There was something in that moment when George noticed her shiny protection; an understanding, an association, a spark which Sam immediately picked up on even if George was completely unaware. It was as if it had all been cleverly arranged and… * “I’m going to miss my little sweetheart.” Mummy said in a loving whisper. She leaned forward and kissed her daughter’s naked tummy. Then noticing his tiny, scrunched up, unused penis and tiny balls, kissed those to lift the final part of the spell - the last barrier to Sam’s return. Sam wriggled under such tenderness, a tenderness he had always experienced since the very beginning but now… Mummy cleaned him up and like Georgie moments earlier, powdered thoroughly before slipping another clean and pristine fluffy diaper into place. Sam looked worried. “Do I have to wear a diaper when I’m grown up?” Sam’s sad sulky lip returned. “Only to begin with sweetheart, only while you are assimilating back… but only you will know that’s what you are wearing until the adjustment is complete.” Sam looked a little bit relieved. “However, when you get to your new family I will be leaving a few hints around so you won’t forget completely about us… albeit in an unknowing kind of way.” She added with a resigned smile. “You can never return… so, once there, you are there for good.” Sam wasn’t sure what all that meant… how could he forget mummy? “For a few years diapers are going to be a major part of your life.” Mummy continued. “It will keep you focused on what you have to do.” Mummy finished with a pair of plastic pants pulled up around his waist and gently eased him to his feet. Mummy never tired of seeing her little ‘girls’ wear their protection. To her it meant sweet childishness, innocence and complete dependency, all of which, over the years, she enjoyed from her many ‘daughters’. To mummy, nothing said LOVE more than changing a diaper and replacing it with a pristine fluffy white one, a pair of protecting plastic pants and loads of loving kisses and hugs. Her little girl was going to be a man, it was a big change but the glassy protection was like her seal of… approval? * Mummy kissed Sam on both cheeks, on the forehead and softly on the lips and to his surprise he began to grow. Some kind of warming magical fluid seemed to flow through his body. He could feel his limbs expanding, firmness taking root, hair beginning to grow and strangely his genitals forcing themselves against his tight padding. It was the first time ever he’d been aware he even had genitals. In just a couple of minutes he was back to being the man he had been before his transformation. He hadn’t aged. He stood in the middle of the room marvelling at what he’d become. Meanwhile, Georgie saw the change from her spot in the crib but didn’t understand what had happened as she filled the first of many diapers. Sam looked down at his male body. All he was wearing was an extremely tight-fitting piece of plastic protection. “OK,” mummy said, “the final component... put on George’s clothes.” * Sam seemed reluctant but as mummy pointed out, if he didn’t he’d probably have to wear only his protection or the little pink dress as they had no grown up clothes for a man other than those lying on the floor. Slowly he shuffled into George’s casual wear. It felt weird and unfamiliar and nothing like what he was used to. However, once he had everything on he looked the very part of a trendy young twentysomething go-getter. “From now on,” mummy explained, “you are George Peacock. His wife, his kids, his business, his memories… his attitude… everything is now yours.” Sam looked in the mirror. “But I don’t look a bit like him.” His mummy smiled. “Don’t worry, that’s all part of the assimilation. To everyone who sees you, they will be seeing George Peacock. No one will know any different because their perception will be altered and because of that… you will have time to fully become George.” Sam was confused. “Couldn’t I just go back to where I came from originally?” Mummy noticed the hunky young man in front of her wearing a tight fitting diaper and plastic pants looking somewhat sceptical. “Well, let’s see. That was many years ago, in a different country and different circumstances. I’m sorry sweethea… er, Samu… er, George… but it’s safer for everyone if you return as George Peacock.” * Sam shrugged. He wasn’t sure about any of this but knew that he didn’t want to return to being a little girl wearing a diaper. He’d take what was given and, surprisingly, the more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea of a readymade family. His wife was very pretty and the kids were adorable so… perhaps it wasn’t going to be as bad as it could be. Having said that he could feel the tightness of his protection hugging his groin and wanted to be on his way. George Peacock’s thoughts were already entering his head. He’d been away for, well, he had no idea how long but no doubt his family would be worried. Mummy kissed him on the lips twice more and opened the door for him to leave. As soon as he stepped over the threshold his only consideration was to get home as soon as possible and hope that the party hadn’t ended. * He drove down the rutted little track and out onto the single road leading away from Snickerty Wood. He suddenly wondered why he was on this route; he didn’t know anyone in this area and couldn’t understand why he’d taken a drive out to his old stomping ground. Was he going nuts or something? Anyhow, there was no time to worry about that now as he had his son’s party to supervise. As he pulled into his drive he looked at the car’s clock display, 16.59. He shrugged as his wife came up and asked where he had been for the last ten minutes or so. * “Oh, er, “ He suddenly remembered. “A little girl was sick and her mother wasn’t due for some time so I took her home. Sorry darling I couldn’t find you but she was pretty weepy and wanted to get home.” “Aww, that was very sweet of you. Anyway…” Jamie came running up to his father. “Daddy, daddy, the magician just made a huge cockatoo disappear… right in front of my eyes… I couldn’t believe it… a cockatoo. He was fantastic…” For some reason George found the idea of a cockatoo disappearing very funny and laughed at his son’s comic delivery, even if it wasn’t intentional. His six year-old son was pleased he’d made his daddy laugh and was excited and thrilled about how wonderful his party had been. It continued until six when all the parents arrived to take the last of their sugar-laden, hyper-kids home. * George Peacock looked over everything. It was all his and he couldn’t wait to put the kids to bed so he and his wife could then have some private time together. His cock was nudging hard up against his diaper as he thought his first adult thoughts in… well… he couldn’t remember. His firm penis had been hidden behind a diaper and plastic pants, but now he hoped that George Peacock was a horny and active lover. The party had eventually finished at 6.30. By eight everything was packed away and by nine the kids were in bed. By ten Samantha and George set about a celebration of their own and by seven the following morning they’d made love almost constantly. Samantha couldn’t get over this change in her husband. He’d always been a good lover and provider, now he was considerate, passionate, full of new and surprising ideas and a positive sex machine. It was like he hadn’t had sex in ages and had been secretly developing different moves to keep her moist. She’d never had such a slippery or memorable night in any of the past eight years of their marriage… and she loved it. * Back at the cottage Georgie girl was getting her morning feed. Clutched to the bosom of her loving mummy, she sucked enthusiastically on the super-sized teat and loaded her belly on the thick, vitamin filled milk. Behind the glassy baby stare an occasional thought glimmered. A thought burst through the haze and Georgie writhed uncomfortably and tried to object to something, though wasn’t sure what. No sooner had the thought entered his head than it left and the sweet milk slipped nourishingly down her throat. She snuggled closer to mummy who rocked and patted her sopping padded bottom whilst humming a sweet soft lullaby. Georgie looked so sweet and innocent with mummy’s titty in her mouth. Meanwhile, she looked down on her nursing infant and promised her new baby would never have any worries whilst mummy was there to look after her. Her pink onesie and thick wet diaper was the start of the love she was going to shower on her little darling. She was going to have her little girl with her forever. She babbled in infant talk telling her bundle of joy all the things she could expect and the clothes mummy had already made and the new items she would create for her. She couldn’t wait to see her little sweetie-pie in the pink satin onesie she’d just made for her. Mummy also promised her little cherub that she’d never grow old and always be her little diaper-clad princess. * At 7.32am in the Peacock household Jamie gave out a short cry of distress. Although both were completely exhausted mummy and daddy hurried to see what had upset their birthday boy. The smell was an immediate indication of what was wrong. For the first time since he was two Jamie had messed his bed. The poor lad was beside himself with grief that such a thing could have happened now he was six and a big boy. It was something totally unexpected but his parents weren’t angry they just tried to placate their son’s turmoil as they helped him out of his soiled PJs. Throughout the day he and his sister repeatedly wet and messed themselves. Samantha wondered if they’d eaten something bad but a call around to the mothers of the party guests revealed no other kids suffering such effects. After the third change it was decided both should wear diapers to bed. Jamie was resolute he wouldn’t but his father reasoned with him that if he could get through that first night without having an accident, they’d forget all about him being diapered ever again. After a long sulky period Jamie eventually had no choice but to agree. However, the following morning both brother and sister woke up to full diapers. * George realised that somewhere at the back of his mind he’d been warned about diapers but couldn’t remember quite what it was - probably that he’d have to buy more. Thankfully, because Adele was still in diapers it was easy to put Jamie in the same ones. They may have been tight to begin with but they were certainly efficient in their job of stopping messy and sodden beds at night and fouled clothing during the day. Mr and Mrs Peacock praised the god who invented diapers and leak-proof rubber pants. Whether either child wanted to wear them was not the point, both now needed them constantly and, George had to admit, after he and his wife had been out to purchase a whole new range of items, both kids looked cute when running around the house wearing only their protection. He also couldn’t help but feel a degree of personal pleasure that their padded little bottoms made them still look like babies and, after all, the new George had never experienced them as babies. Even Samantha didn’t appear to mind that her children had taken this step back. She also enjoyed the chance of having her little ones back. Their padded bottoms, as her husband had pointed out, made them look so damned adorable. * Six weeks later, and on a superb summery day, a decision was made to go for a picnic in Snickerty Woods. With the kids well-padded and the diaper bag packed The Peacocks drove down the lane to the parking area. George knew that for some reason he’d been down this road recently although he wasn’t sure why. Meanwhile, his wife was gently nudging him about a ‘special’ time they’d been down it together… and that, she whispered lovingly in her husband’s ear, had resulted in James. Samantha was glowing; she had some other news to break to the family but thought to wait until they were all settled down with their picnic. She couldn’t think of a nicer place to tell them she was pregnant than at a sun-dappled, leafy spot in the woods. Still just before George turned left to enter the parking lot he looked to his right, not too sure what he expected to see but there was nothing just the overgrown and dense bit of woodland there had always been. A huge body-jolting shiver ran down his back but that was soon replaced by a smile as his wife looked at him desirously and the kids, who no longer appeared to worry about being tightly encased in fluffy diapers, all joyfully scampered after him as he led their way to a favourite sunny picnic spot. ******************************************************************************
  12. Andrew’s Story It was a shame for Andrew; so much promise, so much talent, so much money… just the wrong time to have a break down. ~~~~ Andrew Simmons, Andrew ‘The Frick’ Simmons, was all but burnt out after an extremely busy few years. He’d built up the business “The FrickFactory” from a simple, though addictive, game he’d created when he was seventeen, which had gone viral. The add-ons that he attached to this unpretentious computer programme ‘Frickland’ had launched a business that escalated, in less than seven years, to be worth $56million. We know this because that was for how much he’d just sold it. Andrew was almost at the point of collapsing from nervous exhaustion. It didn’t help that his small, frail, pale body, which had hardly seen sunlight over the past seven years, looked like it could have done with a good meal. He was burnt out and having such terrible trouble sleeping he was becoming addicted to drugs to help alleviate his many problems. Those seven years where, almost single-handedly, he’d developed and designed the ‘Frickland‘ franchise and the harder, more phantasmagorical ‘Conspiracy Gene’ game, had been intense and draining. He was up against a huge number of other exciting computer games on the market and it was a battle to keep up with all the leaps in tech, story lining, design and artwork. In fact, every day brought something new and revolutionary in to his business. Innovation was nonstop and although at first it was fun and challenging, for Andrew it had become mind-numbingly terrifying. He was descending into an abyss of his own creation, whilst his reliance on chemical highs to help him exist was taking its toll. Every one of his friends thought the shedding of his company would help, but it didn’t. His anxiety level was through the roof and, living alone, in the spacious mansion that only success can buy, was making him feel isolated, even when surrounded by people. He was getting desperate. He was sure his mind was going and there was a creeping sense of paranoia that drove every decision. With all that money in the bank, and the fact that he no longer had the responsibility of his company to worry about, you would have thought was enough to ease his predicament. If anything, his mood got darker and he became a very unpleasant, secretive, angry and deceitful young man. Somehow he managed to annoy business colleagues, frustrate family and alienate his best friends, which led to being more solitary. His parents had begged him to return to his mid-western home. They thought rest and recuperation away from the pressures of California was all he needed to get himself back to his creative best. He was adamant that he didn’t need any help, convinced if he did it would be used against him in some way. He screamed he needed nothing from anybody, there was nothing wrong with him but, at the back of his mind, he knew everyone was out to get him. A little rest, a little escape from all these annoying voices was all he really needed. He had to get away from all these leeches that would suck the life out of him. It was they who were the problem not him. The paranoia was no longer creeping… it was full blown suspicion. One morning his personal assistant Becky found her boss lying in a pool of vomit, shivering and crying for his mommy. She herself had known the problems of a personal breakdown but had recovered thanks to her psychotherapist Doctor Drummond. Once she’d cleaned Andrew up she begged him to try her doctor. She claimed that after only a couple of hours of therapy there was an instant improvement. Her boss was dismissive of her claims but she insisted that the doctor had hypnotised her, found the root of her problem and, by regressing her back to that moment, she had confronted the problem at its cause. She claimed that she’d been 100% calmer since those sessions and thanked the psychiatrist almost daily in her prayers for delivering her from a whirlpool of doubt and terror that up until that moment, she couldn’t explain. Andrew would have none of it, yelling and calling her a liar. Becky begged him to at least try him but the foul verbal abuse was just too much and she was glad that the following day was her last in his employment. When he’d sold the company, his employees went with the new owners, Becky wasn’t needed but thankfully she’d found a new position and couldn’t wait to leave now her boss was such an obnoxious prick. In many ways she was looking forward to telling him just what she thought but it would have to wait until the last pay-check was signed then she could walk out and never have to worry about the jerk again. That last morning was a disaster. She arrived to find him lying unconscious, surrounded by empty bottles and an assortment of Class A drugs and, on top of all that, he’d shit and pissed himself. Becky was at her wits end, finally she called for help. ~~~~ Head clear, mind refocused, Andrew was enjoying this new game, why he hadn’t thought of it before was a mystery. Instead of progressing Frickland he was going back to how it all started; The Frickland Nursery. The entire concept was there before him; it was bright, colourful and fun, a sort of cross between The Sims and Rugrats; entertaining cartoon characters you controlled. The simulation and sets were designed for the most enjoyment a child could possibly have. The game was clever, easy and at times fiendish. At each stage they could graduate up to the next age group if they achieved certain levels and collected special prizes. They had a time scale to accomplish otherwise they were returned to the beginning of the game. Andrew thought this was a cunning part of the experience because, no matter how advanced you were, at any moment, when timed out, you could be returned to a crying baby and the entire process would start from scratch. Andrew was relishing developing this game more than any other, well apart from that first one which had set his career in motion. Thankfully, now there was no pressure he was taking great delight in making each character age appropriate; diapers, rompers, onesies, pacifiers, stuffed toys, toys in general, powders, lotions, plastic pants, rubber sheets, cribs, nursery rhymes, mobiles… he couldn’t stop once he started. ‘The Nursery’ was going to be the best ever. The walls were all bright colours; cartoons festooned the surfaces, whilst the personality of each child was sweet and cute they were clothed in appealingly decorated diapers. Some of the kids would be timid, others adventurous but all were adorable wearing their little baby outfits. Some of the characters were new-borns, others crawling and some toddling around. They walked and talked like babies and each wore a very visible diaper; some wore more than one. The thickness was a penalty for not achieving certain ‘points’ or ‘prizes’ throughout the game. Occasionally a grown-up (Nanny), would come in and change, discipline, dress or insist on ‘nap time’ for various individuals as needed. To gain age levels they had to collect colourful items like golden pacifiers (there were seven colours to be won to get up to the golden prize), four layered lace pink panties (pink was the top plastic panties you could achieve though there were four other colours and different layered ruffles to attain first). Food, baby bottles, sippy-cups, bibs and playtime were all graded and awarded points and only once you’d achieved the top level in each of these could you advance. Andrew was getting more and more excited as each new component of his game dropped into place or he expanded on the idea. ‘The Nursery’ was heavily populated. Padded bottoms were everywhere as the cast crawled or toddled to various areas of play where some tried to gain the rewards that meant they would be able to ‘grow up’. Baby boys and baby girls cried, wet and soiled themselves if they failed and that set them back a stage which they had to repeat. The changing mat also meant that more diapers were added, which slowed the toddler down and made achieving the next level slightly more difficult. Andrew giggled to himself when he saw that one of the 30 month-old toddlers lost all his rewards and had to start at the beginning – so it was back to being a baby again. That was a penalty which seemed extreme but was fun to have. Crying was just as much a part of being a child as giggling, or moodiness, or sleeping, so at times the nursery was both chaotic and peaceful. Andrew thought it was the best game his imagination had ever created. He loved the colourful characters he’d produced. He loved the innocent but slightly edgy nursery world in which they lived. He loved the fact that it was a fun place to play. Every game was an adventure; every detail of a kindergarten was included, from the selection of soft and furry toys to the lettered building bricks. It was all so realistic, every move was accompanied by the rustling sound of plastic diapers and plastic pants… he could almost smell the baby powder… in fact; he could smell the baby powder! ~~~~ He looked down at himself. He was wearing a thick, thick diaper and a pink vest with a cartoon mouse on the front. Whilst the cartoon mouse stayed the same the rest of the Sim-like caricature world dissolved from colourful comic animated figures into real people. Each of his characters was no longer in a game but the real world. There was a cross-section of ages and when he tried to speak the only noise he could hear was childish gibberish. He tried again, but no words formed just sounds and noises those around him responded to but couldn’t understand. The toddlers had a few words in their vocabulary but Andrew; well he wasn’t sure what or where he was. He looked like a twenty-four year-old but his dress and speech were that of a one year-old. He thought this was all part of his own creation but now he wasn’t sure. He could only crawl and his diaper felt full, wet and uncomfortable. He tried to tell someone, anyone that he was having a nightmare, but no one could understand what he was trying to say. His body just wouldn’t do the things he wanted or expected it to do. There was no coordination, no strength, even crawling around was difficult. On top of all that, the frustration at not being understood led him to do what babies always do when in such a situation - he sat in his soiled diaper and cried. ~~~~ High up on the gantry, looking down on his medical achievement, stood the fifty year-old, white-haired and self-satisfied Doctor Drummond; he was pleased with the way business was progressing. The specialist area of psychiatry had led to his ground-breaking research being financed by the government. His responsibility was to find a psychological way of rehabilitating hardened criminals so that they were no longer a menace to society. Unfortunately, his deep and controversial exploration of the human mind had led to a few setbacks along the way, which the government, seeing lawsuits on the horizon, weren’t happy being associated with. His funding had almost dried up until he’d found a way of utilising those unforeseen but effective ‘setbacks’. Now, with his state-of-the-art desert retreat (psychiatric institute) he was able to offer a service he was surprised how many people wanted to exploit. Some patients were volunteers, some were sent, whilst many had no choice. Most of the ‘children’ who were crawling around below were heirs to various fortunes that either family, or Doctor Drummond himself, had managed to convince needed to start his specialist treatment. They all had problems of one kind or another and hoped for a cure that the saintly (and highly regarded) psychoanalyst might provide. Whether, kidnapped, coerced or corralled business was doing well. The clever and opportunistic shrink had certainly found a market for his specialised (some might say criminal) therapy. None of patients were aware what their ultimate ‘cure’ would be, though this particular outcome suited many business rivals or disgruntled siblings. The doctor would tamper with their minds; explode memories, kill off thought processes, defeat certain urges, impose control, manipulate will, rectify and regress each one of them back to those glorious, happy, untroubled, childhood days. That was the initial idea; however, what that actually meant was they were destined to a lifetime of diapers and toddlerhood… repeated ad nauseam. Visiting guests and high powered execs took great delight in seeing a rival reduced to diapers and building bricks and were happy to pay for the privilege to keep that person out of the way and incapable of a response. They reasoned that being ‘forever a toddler’ was better than ‘not being at all’, and congratulated themselves on being so considerate, finding a wonderful world for their ‘adversaries’ to live out their lives. They also loved the idea of the humiliation that a grown person having to wear baby clothes, smocks, diapers and plastic pants would feel, they hadn’t realised that humiliation can only happen if the person humiliated is aware of the fact. These babies had no concept of anything but their toddler existence and the childish sphere in which they blissfully lived. No matter what their real age, in ‘The Nursery’, no one would ever progress past being a toddler. The nurses (or nannies to the little ones), trained and cared for their babies in the colourful, childish world that the good doctor had created for them. The regression trigger he’d placed in all of his subject’s minds was there should any start showing signs of developing an intellect. Their entire lives were spent as little kids playing and trying to win prizes. He, and a couple of his technical boffins, had come up with an app called ‘The Nursery’ so there was a digital baby world as well as a real one in existence. He was able to combine the two for his tots, which gave them something to aim for, even if that aim was bogus, after all, it did form another part of the research. However, as soon as they reached the advanced level (about three years-old), cleverly they were re-set to start all over again with no memory of what they’d already accomplished. Smugly, as the doctor looked down on the latest patient in his care he smiled. After a couple of weeks intensive ‘therapy’ Little Baby Andy was now able to join all the other babies in the nursery. His brain had needed a complete retune but using the game and Andrew’s own programming abilities, had been fairly easily convinced it was all his creation. He’d planted the computer game idea, and the characters, so deep that Andrew would have difficulty in separating one from the other and believe he was responsible for everything that went on. That was until his mind refocused on the real rather than the cartoon element then, as the doctor planned, his mind would scramble and he’d slot right into complete babyhood with no problem. The cunning academic could see the newest ‘recruit’ to the nursery sitting in his thick diaper and cute little mousey t-shirt crying, coming to terms (or not) with his situation. It wouldn’t take long. Soon his brain would stop computing and start accepting, although he may never quite be able to mentally differentiate between the physical and digital worlds. However, Baby Andy would be a welcome addition to the doctor’s crazy collection of kindergarten kids. Besides, the cute, sad-eyed, under nourished looking baby with the huge diaper had nothing to worry about; Doctor Drummond was going to be taking special care of him. After all, the clinic was financially safe for quite a while now that he had access to $56 million. ****************** THE END
  13. Regressed (re-post)

    Regressed Day 1 So, here I am, sitting at my computer wearing nothing but a thick diaper and plastic pants. “Why would any sane person dress like that?” you might ask, and that is a difficult question because I have no idea where the original thought came from. It must have something to do with trying to research an article online that I was preparing to write. I was new to the magazine and wanted to prove myself. So, I was looking for something crazy, something my editor would love and something the readers could feel superior about so, something definitely a bit sexual, kinky and creepy. I was checking through various fetish sites: ‘Adult Baby’ and ‘Diaper Lovers’ seemed a bizarre subject for me to get my junior journalistic teeth into. I was amazed at just how many ‘weird but normal’ people seemed to be into this particular ‘thing’ and thought I could have some fun with the subject at their expense. Why I chose this particular theme I’m not sure as it horrified me; adults parading around in diapers and doing stuff in them, definitely not what I’d call fun. However, as I looked into it more and more it appeared to be a topic with ‘promise’ and I became fascinated with the images and stories. # Day 4 Over the past few days the thought to purchase and wear this ‘infantalistic’ clothing has grown. In fact, I think it is fair to say that the idea seems to have overtaken any other thoughts in my head. Every time I see an image of someone wearing a diaper, I see my face smiling, or gurgling or sucking on a pacifier. It’s creepy and yet…? At night my dreams are full of these images of me playing, coloring, building bricks high or just lying in a crib with toys, stuffed animals and feeling nothing but… peace. When I wake up I’m happy and smiling but when I’m fully awake a chill runs through my body, which leaves me wondering why this subject is having such an effect. Yesterday I found myself at the drugstore buying adult diapers and I have absolutely no recollection of even driving there. My only real memory is carrying the huge plastic pack back to my car and feeling happy. Yes HAPPY and… pleased with myself. Again I’m not sure why but I suppose I was glad that I now had my own diapers and a couple of pairs of plastic pants to keep me dry. On returning home I just tossed the bundle into the back of the closet wondering why I’d just bought such items and telling myself that I was a being very ‘naughty’ and that I’d return it all in the morning. However, since then, some mornings I wake up and find I’m wearing nothing but a diaper and have no recollection of actually putting it on. # Day 7 Where and when I first got the idea of wearing a diaper instead of my usual underwear I’m not sure but here I am wearing them all the time; around the house and when I go to bed. In fact, I seem very happy wearing them and I can’t think of a time when I didn’t. Those first couple of occasions it all felt very strange; the bulk and the obvious bulge I was sure were very noticeable. The crinkling of the plastic I was sure would attract attention but to me it seemed magical. Thankfully, after just a few trips out in the car to the store or wondering around the city wearing them under a pair of shorts (I’d more or less stopped wearing jeans because they seemed just too adult) it all felt… wonderfully normal. If anyone noticed they don’t say anything so, it doesn’t seem to matter that much because I really did like the idea, as well as the feelings of… of… happiness… that this change in clothing gives me. Day 8 They give me a feeling of being fortunate, of being loved; of security… they give me a feeling of being me. Since I left home a couple of years ago my mummy and daddy… er, I mean mom and dad (why I used those childish terms I’m not sure) have er, erm, umm… what was I going to say? Sorry, my mind seems to be doing that more and more, I sort of lose my train of thought and the only way I can get it back is by visiting the site. Never mind. “Daddy… daddy… dada…” What the hell is going on? # Day 9 Why am I acting so strangely? I need to work and finish this feature and get back to normality as soon as possible. I look down at myself and the plastic pants feel tight around my waist and legs. I can see the outline of Disney characters on my diaper and all is forgotten because I’m filled with joy and happiness that I have them with me and work is the last thing I want to do. I want to play. I search the room for my best friend Timmy my teddy bear. As always he’s never far away and I reach out and give him a hug and a squeeze, whilst the feel of his soft fur against my naked skin sends messages of contentment to my brain. I sit him on top of my diaper and bounce him up and down; he’s such a silly bear. For a brief moment the feeling of ecstasy passes and I continue my research on ‘Disgusting Diaper Dudes”, that’s the title of my article, but as I look at the document on the computer, other than the title and my name, I appear to have written nothing… and yet… I feel I’ve been researching and writing the article for ages. I’m beginning to doubt my sanity. # Day 11 Where can all my work be? I’m sure I’ve typed thousands of words on the subject, but looking at my history on the toolbar, I have returned to the same ABDL page often. In fact, when I look more carefully, REGRESS is the only site I’ve looked at in the past few weeks. I’m sitting looking at the screen wondering what’s going on. Rubbing the slippery front of my plastic pants and wiggling my toes in the soft carpet. I feel my bottom lip trembling because I don’t have anyone else to play with and a huge gulp of sadness is rising up from my tummy. Timmy is held tightly in one hand, whilst my thumb is in my mouth and I am sucking and trying to think at the same time. Thinking is hard and I feel my eyes getting heavy as I try to stay awake and close the site once and for all. I hug Timmy even tighter and begin to sniffle, I don’t know what’s happening and I want my mommy. # Day 13 My diaper is thicker and more contented than ever and I feel so happy sitting on the floor with my legs outstretched, I chuckle because I couldn’t close my legs even if I wanted to. As I crawl around I’ve never noticed it before but there appears to be some soft relaxing music somewhere in the background, it’s from the computer and I can just about make out a soothing voice telling me it is OK to relax. The sounds and the words now flit through my mind; sleep, forget, enjoy, regress, suck, relax, wet… As my eyes close a feeling of utter euphoria engulfs me. I giggle because there’s this nice tingling running around my body and into my diaper. All I can hear is that soft, gentle music and those calming, encouraging words telling me that all is well and soon I’ll have no more worries. With my diaper tightly hugging my groin making me feel safe and snug, my thumb offering equal soothing qualities as I suck on it, I drift off. I can feel a warmth grow in my diaper as I let loose and wet myself but I am comfortable, reassured, pacified and… happy and I… Day 14 “regression complete” ***************** Subject Number 20012, Male, Age 23, Collection and clean-up party mobilised. Delivery as Dispatch Number 7773, address as shown on invoice. Special requests: Subject to only wear - pink diaper, pink plastic pants, pink pacifier. * Thank you for your custom * Regression Services Inc * All operatives please note – owing to successful completion of our first year in business we can now offer new increased premium incentives for all future subjects. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
  14. The Pre-College Road Trip

    Robert, a boy with light brown hair and 'Chameleon eyes,' as some called his hazel peepers, lived in a nice middle class house with his younger sister, Maddie and their parents. The house had two floors, the second floor having two bedrooms and a bathroom, the rooms he and his sister slept in. The main floor had a bathroom as well, and their parents' room. Robert couldn't wait for high school to end as he had made plans to take his girlfriend for a drive around the country during the summer stopping at as many entertaining places as they could and still get back Wyoming before the fall semester for college started. He was going to go to the University of Colorado. Finally, the big morning had arrived, but his parents had laid a big mood killer on him. "You know we can't leave Maddie at home by herself, and your father has to take business trips overseas this summer. I have to work at the hospital late at night a lot. You know that," his mother was trying to stop his plans. "I know," he sighed. "What if Maddie promised to be a good girl, and I took her with me? I bet she'd like to go to Disneyland and other places we want to visit...." The mother thought about ti, and an hour later, he was calling his girlfriend with the good news. He was pretty sure his sister would be a good girl if it meant she got to go to Disneyland for the first time in her life. Robert was now nineteen years old. Stephanie Morales, the Mexican yoiunger sister, was in the living room watching television when the phone rang. Her skin was a little darker than a lot of Mexican--(American) girls, but as they were three generations in, as far as being in America, Stephanie's English was as fluent as any other fifteen year old may they be white or black or whatever in America. She never really saw herself as being different from anyone else at her school, and though discrimination sometimes happened here and there on the news, she was pretty oblivious to it. She just never really saw it. Her own sister was dating a white guy. She didn't know his name, but she did see her sister hanging with him from time to time.
  15. Hello, all you lovely people! Recently, one of my ABDL sisters brought to my attention a site for ABDL hypnosis and I wanted to share it with you. The site is called "My Little Lullaby" and it is a site where you can buy lots of different trance recordings and even order custom tracks. The tracks follow the same kind of suggestive messages you find in meditation recordings and the like and are meant to encourage ABDL behaviors you would like to have more often. I have bought the two free ones, "Sleep Like a Baby" and "Forever Young" and also purchased the "Diaper Wetting" one to see if it would help me with the mental block I often have when I need to go potty during my little time. I am very pleased to report that they both worked like a charm! The "Sleep Like a Baby" one had me down for the count like magic, and I woke up feeling very little. I was so impressed that I tried the "Diaper Wetting" one right after waking up, as I had to go potty and even though I tried lying in bed it wasn't working. This is pretty common for me, as I need to be upright to actually pee. It annoys me in little space because it just doesn't feel right to me. So I listened to the diaper wetting track and after it was over, still lying down, I relaxed and was able to wet myself right in my bed! I was ecstatic! I'll be listening to this track every time I have little space with the hopes that soon I will just be able to wet myself regularly into my diapers! The one selling these tracks, Ember, has the softest sweetest voice, and each track comes with boy and girl variants so you are being directly addressed by the gender you identify with as a little in any circumstance! I cannot recommend her enough. After being burnt so much in the past on piss-poor hypnosis tracks, here's one that really works! If you're looking for good hypnosis files, please check the site out! http://mylittlelullaby.com/
  16. Mother's day surprise

    Wyatt hears his mom talk about wanting a new baby so he walks to his room and puts on one of his hidden abdl diapers and he crawls into her room. Wyatt sits on the floor of his moms bed room in only an abdl diaper "mommy happy mother's day to the best mommy ever" he says in a babyish voice giggling cutely. He looks up at his mommy with tears in his eyes not knowing if she will love what he did or hate it. He looks at her and waits for a reply
  17. New baby of the family

    I need a mom a dad and a brother and sister Name Age Role Name Wyatt Age 16 Role youngest son
  18. Staying with my Aunt Sharon

    As mom got in the car she said, "be a good boy for your Aunt Sharon!" I was sad and had been crying at the thought of my mommy being away for a whole week. "We will have so much fun!", my aunt consoled. It was certainly not easy for a 5 year old boy to be in a strange place for a whole week. I continued to pout as mommy drove away. "Let's go in and get a snack," Sharon said as she carried my suitcase and put my mom's quilted, baby blue bag over her shoulder. I agreed and took her hand. I enjoyed the graham crackers and apple juice she gave me and I was getting more comfortable. After finishing, she turned on the TV and I sat in a beanbag chair and watched my favorite cartoons, bugs and daffy made me almost forget mommy had left. As I sat and watched I started needing to pee. I didn't know where the potty was and I didn't always make it on time even at home. Aunt Sharon asked me if I needed to potty right after my snack but I didn't need to go then. I kept watching TV. Roadrunner was on and he was my favorite. I waited to long and soon felt a warmness on my crotch and bottom. I kept watching TV. Aunt Sharon came to check on me. She soon noticed my pants were wet. "Uh oh, Dougie, looks like you tee-teed in your pants. Let's get you cleaned up." She led me by the hand around the corner into a bedroom. My suitcase and quilted bag were on the dresser. She went to a closet and took out a plastic mat. It crinkled as she spread it on the bed. She lifted me up and laid me on the mat on my back. She took a round plastic canister of wipes out of the bag along with a light blue pair of my cloth trainers. She pulled of my shorts and I looked down to see that the pair of thick white trainers I was wearing were soaked and not near as warm as before. "You are a wet little boy!" she said pleasantly as she pulled off my trainers. I flinched as she wiped my genitals and bottom with the cold wipe. She looked at me and smiled. "Sometimes we have accidents, it's ok!" "Tell Aunt Sharon when you need to tee-tee next time. She finished wiping me down then slipped on the blue trainers and a pair of green shorts from my suitcase. "Now, then, all clean!" she said as she helped me off the bed. She rolled up the mat with my wet clothes inside and led me off to the living room. She took the mat to the washroom. I watched TV and soon forgot about my accident. She came back in the room and asked me. "Do you need to go potty?" "We have some errands to run". I shook my head no. She said, "Let's go try". and she led me to the bathroom then sat me on the potty. I tried and I pooted a couple of times but I couldn't go. She left and went across the hall into the bedroom. She returned with a pair of plastic pants. "Let's put these on just in case", she said as she took off my shorts. She pulled the plastic pants over my training undies and pulled my shorts back up. "Tell me if you need to potty," she reminded me. We loaded into her station wagon and she strapped me in the back seat opposite of her. She gave me a few books to read while we drove. We first pulled through the bank and I was given a sucker. It was orange, not my favorite but I happily sucked on it anyway. We went in the grocery store and she asked me if I wanted to ride in the basket seat. I nodded Ok and she asked me again if I needed to potty. I said I didn't. We left the grocery and went into McDonalds. I had a hamburger and some fries. She said,"You can play on the playground awhile if you want". I happily agreed and she read a magazine she picked up in the market. I climbed to the top of the slide and slid down over and over again. I was the only one in the store but I didn't mind. I crawled through the tunnel and swung on the swing. I felt that the inside of my pants had gotten a little wet. I didn't tell auntie though because I wanted to keep playing. By then a mom with two kids had come to the playground. She had a small baby and a toddler. We played and had a good time. I crawled back in the tunnel. It was nice and dark and I stood on my knees very quietly. My tummy growled and I pooted again. I stayed motionless. I pooted again and pushed. I could feel poopy filling up the seat of my pants. I pushed again and more poots produced more poo on top of the warm sticky ball already in the seat of my pants. I stood up and waddled to the side of the tunnel, still out of sight of my auntie and the mother. The mother called to her toddler, "Shawn, come see mommy". I peeked around the side of the tunnel as she asked, "do you have poo poo?" and checked his diaper. "I sure thought I smelled poo" and she checked the baby. "Hmmm you're clean, too". Aunt Sharon looked up from her magazine. "Dougie, come here please". She shook her head as I waddled towards her. She said to the mother "I think this is our culprit". I looked down and stuck my fingers in my mouth, something I did when I was nervous or shy about something. She stood up as I approached and leaned over my shoulder and pulled back the waistband of my shorts and pants. "Yep, he has dirty britches" She confirmed. The mom looked a little shocked that a boy my age would still be pooping in his pants. "Time to go now" she said as she grabbed her purse and led me toward the door. We approached the station wagon and she opened the back tailgate. She move a few things out of the way as I stood next to the back fender with the open gate shielding us. She grabbed my bag from the back seat. she opened the wipes and put them on the ground and placed the bag in the back area. She took my shorts off with out removing my shoes. I stood there in only a tee shirt, plastic pants and trainers she pulled some wipes from the canister. She carefully pulled down the plastic layer. "You're wet too" she said to herself. "I thought we were going to tell auntie when we needed to potty!", she scolded. "And I just asked you a few minutes ago" I looked down and continued to suck my fingers. My pants were at my ankles and I could see that poop filled the entire bottom of my pants. She reached over me and wiped my bottom, dropping the dirty wipe into the seat of the dirty underwear. She wiped two more times and then pulled the dirty pants off, removing the unders from the shorts. Bare-bottomed, she led me around the tailgate into open view and lifted me into the back of the station wagon. She took another pair of underwear from the bag and pulled my green shorts back on. "We need to make another stop",she said sternly. "You are out of plastic pants, Do you think you can keep from wetting your pants for a few minutes?" I didn't say anything as we rode. I kept sucking my fingers. "you shouldn't put your fingers in your mouth!" auntie warned. "I shouldn't be surprised though", she said under her breath. We stopped at an Eckerd drug store and we went in. We found our way to the baby aisle. "here's what we need" She said as she found the largest size Pampers. She continued shopping, selecting some Desitin ointment and a bottle of baby powder. We carried them to the counter and headed home. As soon as we arrived home she took me inside, without even unloading her shopping bounty. She again took me into the bedroom. "Little boys that wet and mess their britches need diapers", she said as she again took off my pants and underwear. She also pulled off my tee shirt as I laid on the bed naked. She lifted my legs and slipped the diaper under me. She pulled up the front and taped it on. "Now we won't need to worry" she said matter of factly. "Naptime" she said as she laid me on the bed. I fell asleep right away and woke up to a soaked diaper. I walked into the kitchen where Aunt Sharon was making dinner. "That is one wet diaper!" she said as she looked at me. She didn't bother taking me to the bedroom. I saw that the Pampers were now in the corner of the living room. She changed me quickly right in the floor. A week went by and I didn't use the potty once. When mommy returned, Aunt Sharon told her that she had put me in diapers. "I have been thinking about doing it anyway", she told Sharon. Dougie obviously isn't ready to be a big boy!
  19. The English Class (Robehouse and me)

    Miu Nakayama, (played by Robehouse), is a typical eightteen year old fashion sense smart Japanese student who has not yet decided on a career, which is becoming more and more common in Japan recently, though such students are still way outnumbered by others who already have dreams of what they want to do. Though she had no actual idea for a career in mind, she did have big plans about going abroad sometime and studying in Indoneasia, America, Europe, and so on, so believing English to be the language of the world, and loving to study it so much even from junior high school, which is also kind of rare among Japanese students, she had applied to get into an all English University where they teach everything in English and they prepare her to make a career choice that will use her English skills. As much as she loved the idea and aced getting into the school, she was going to graduate in about three months, and the closer to the entry date to her university, the more she worried about understanding her teachers and what was going on there. She talked about her concerns with her dad who then set her up to take English classes from a native American. The native America didn't live far from their house, and for the trial lesson, her dad would just drop her off, and let her attend the class on her own, and then pick her up. After the class, they would discuss whether that class was the right one for her. So it was that Miu Nakayama, had just hung out with her friends all day for it was the middle of the Japanese winter holidays, and she had done some extra studying at home as well, and then it came about time to get ready. "You want to impress the teacher," her father told her. "Wear something nice like you are going to a piano recital or something," he told her. "Don't look too adult-like, or he might misunderstand your English ability and make your class too hard for you. Just try to be yourself, but think about dressing in the way that will let him know he is still working with a child in high school, okay?" She had not been to the bathroom in the last six hours, nor did she feel like she had to go just now.... Mr. Ralph Taylor was an English teacher who had lived in Japan for quite a while. He understood Japanese culture as well as any foreigner could understand it, though his Japanese speaking ability was still limited due to the fact he used English most of the time. His students came to him to learn English, and aside from his teaching, he really didn't have much of a life. He loved teaching, though sometimes, he found himself wanting his own little girl to take care of. He would do almost anything to get a little girl, and unfortunately for Miu, this was strongly on his mind as he prepared for her class. He had not even met her or knew anything about her, but she was eighteen, and that meant, that whatever happened, she was not really a child, and if he could get her to do something of her own free will, it was probable that she wouldn't tell her parents if something got embarrassing for her, and at the sametime, if she did try to say something that could get him introuble, she would also risk getting her own embarrassment found out. He wasn't thinking along the lines of actually hurting her though. He had no intentions of touching in any way you wouldn't touch a child. But, he was thinking of making her more as a child than an adult through conditioning if he could. The first step, though, was to gain her trust, and to make his class exciting for her to learn from. He would make it as childish of a class as she could while simutaneously, making it seem each part had a point, and therefore, she would hopefully not realize how childish the class really was. He would give her sound reasons for each of the activities they did, and if her dad was there, then he would tailor the activities so that the dad wouldn't necessarily see them in action, but would understand the purpose behind them so he would also encourage her to do whatever the teacher said. So, it was, that he waited watching out his second story window for a car that didn't usually come to the parking lot below, for his student who was due to come at 6:30.
  20. Anyone wanna rp?

    Looking for anyone interested in an rp with a baby girl and Daddy, with either a theme of mental regression or forced babying. Also, I prefer roleplyers who are willing to add detail and type more then three lines at the most. pm or message me if interested, or just reply to this thread.
  21. The baby I was forced to be.

    Hello my name is Daniel I've been around here every now and then but just now decided to make an account. I'm currently looking for someone to play a babysitter in this roleplay scenario that i had thought of. The babysitter is a girl (whether or not your real gender is female or not doesn't matter as long as you're okay with playing a female.) Also I'd prefer someone who is willing to post more than a single line/word reply. (those one word/one sentence roleplays get on my nerves.) Anyway here's the starter to the roleplay. "Hello miss you must be the babysitter" my mother said I don't know why I needed a babysitter since I was 19 and I've stayed home alone before, but at this point it was too late to object. the babysitter was very pretty with a pretty decent bust size as well. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. I watch as my mother leaves with my father for their night out. the babysitter then begins to walk towards me. 'what's in that bag she's carrying?' I thought to myself looking at the bag that the babysitter had brought with her. I apologize for the bad starter (I'm never good with those ) but i hope it's enough to work with. obviously the babysitter is going to force regress me in this roleplay. anyway i await your replies.
  22. Searching for roleplay partners

    I'm looking for anyone who is interested in doing an X-Men rp with me, whether it be from animated series (my favorite is X-Men: Evolution) or the films. If you are interested and are willing to give detailed replies, please message me!
  23. Adoption Centre RP (Open)

    So... First off HI! I'm Asriel... although my friends call me Azzy, I'm a newborn to DD, and I like to RP, so I thought it might be fun to RP something like this. Anyone can join There are two roles to be played A baby, toddler, little girl, sissy, little boy, etc. or you could be one of the "Staff" which are the nurse, mommy, daddy, nanny, etc. If you start as a baby, etc. you are part of an "Adoption Centre" for ABs If you start as a "Staff" member you are going to the "Adoption Centre" To adopt one of the ABs Now babies, If you get adopted, you choose to go with the "staff" to their homes or stay in the adoption centre one last thing, if you play staff and have a partner/friend from another RP (If he/she is willing to participate) you can force them to become a baby by letting them in the Adoption centre, where a nurse will "take care of them" which means, they will be retrained to being and acting like a baby So anyway, you're free to join if you want, and as I said, I'm still a newborn in this site and don't know if this has been done before.
  24. Becoming the Little Sister

    Would anyone be interested in trying this situation out with me? This takes place in an alternate future where much like changing your name, a person can get their legal age and gender switched. I play your teenage brother, but I am not very responsible. I get detention in school most days, I have been suspended for fighting, and it seems like I might just drop out all together. To try to stop my from dragging myself further, you get my age and gender changed to a 3 year old girl. Some things I like are having to ask to use potty and not being allowed to wipe myself after, limiting my speech, and acting like a kid in public. If anyone is interested, here is a starter post. Jacob reaches over and shuts his alarm clock off yawning. Today would be the first day that he could go back to high school after getting suspended again. This time it was because he said very rude things to a teacher and walked out of the school. He figured today would be just like any other day of school, suffer through eight hours, maybe take a couple naps to help the time pass, probably get detention for doing so. He gets dressed in jeans and t-shirt heading downstairs to get some breakfast before the bus arrived.