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Me and Mum 1-4

Les Lea

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Me and Mum


Me and mum were sat out on the small balcony we were fortunate enough to have in our two bedroom maisonette on the outskirts of town. The living-room opened up onto it and when the weather was nice, like it had been all day, it was like a little bit of luxury, if you didn’t quite understand what luxury was. It was a place we felt lucky to have because the view over the city in the distance was quite spectacular.


Mum was sitting with a glass of chilled white wine, a treat she quite liked, and I had a glass of cold milk. It had been a particularly hot summer’s day and we’d been to the christening of my Aunty Jade and Uncle David’s second child – Florence Delilah Armstrong. Their first child was almost two years old and called Alan David Armstrong, and was getting to be quite a handful. He’d run riot in the church, much to my amusement, and I saw many grown-ups trying desperately not to laugh as he shouted out inappropriate words during the sermon and various blessings, much to his mum and dad’s obvious embarrassment as they stood at the font.

Florence seemed to take her lead from him and cried throughout the entire proceedings and I’d never seen my aunt and uncle look as uncomfortable as they passed their daughter over to the weary looking cleric. Had it not been for Alan, the entire thing would have been very boring and I’m glad that eventually mum sent me to play with him to try and calm him down.

Oddly enough he was dressed in a smaller version suit as I wore. I wondered if mum and aunty had discussed what we’d be wearing and that the pale blue suits were no accident. We did look smart. However, because I’m older (nearly nine) my shorts looked even shorter on me than his did on him, although his nappy was visible as it had ridden up as he’d charged around all the guests. At one point I got him to calm down as he sat on my knee and we played a silly game of I-Spy.

There were a couple of other kids at the service who were obviously trying to ignore me and Alan who, apart from Florence, were the youngest present.

Looking across the gathering I remember thinking how pretty mum looked in her dark blue dress. She always looked good but in that company of well-dressed people I thought she stood out. Mum is five feet, eight and a half inches tall, has a slim body and nice bosoms and has long, gently curling golden hair. She looks a lot younger than her thirty-four years. I am her only son; I’m eight years old, four feet six inches tall, have thick golden hair like mum... and have green eyes. I thought we looked really stylish together in church and she thought so too. I know because she kept telling me how smart I looked and how Alan could be my little brother because we appeared so much alike.

Anyway, back home sitting out on our small balcony Smooth FM was playing softly in the background, mum was at one side of the small table and I sat on the other drinking milk. Mum always said that since I could pour it myself, milk straight from the fridge was my preference to any other drink... including Coca-Cola, which is my second favourite.

We were laughing as we went over the events of the day. However, as it was early evening by the time we got back home, I’d changed from my suit into my Spider-Man jammies, whilst mum was in a t-shirt and jogging bottoms. I was telling her about how grateful my aunt and uncle had been when I engaged Alan in something other than complete disruption. She laughed as she remembered one of the things he’d called out when the priest had poured a little Holy Water over his baby sister’s head.

“Don’t wet her anymore,” he’d shouted, “she can wet herself.”

The place erupted in laughter.

I think what he meant was obvious. However, I could tell when the little guy sat on my lap that he himself was quite wet but decided to wait until after the ceremony to tell his mum.

Despite him being well-padded he did manage to leak onto my shorts so in the end, and much to my embarrassment, there were two of us in wet pants. The other kids who’d been avoiding us insisted that I’d wet my pants as well and no amount of denial from me seemed to make any difference.

“A couple of babies.” Was their opinion of me and Alan and I’m not sure the rest of the congregation didn’t believe them.

I’d had my own fair share of accidents in the past but not one during the day for a  year or so but those ‘friends’ and ‘relations’ had long memories and simply thought it possible I still wet myself.

Anyway, the strange thing was, when Aunty Jade got round to changing her baby daughter and a soggy Alan, she asked if I needed changing too.

I was angry and annoyed at the insinuation but mum just said I was fine and didn’t defend me, well I thought not, and that upset me a bit. Unfortunately, it all meant that while Alan and his sister wore nice clean and dry clothes, the wet stain on my shorts was obvious throughout the ‘christening lunch’ we all attended back at auntie’s house.

I got some pitying looks (and so did mum) and more than one person asked if I needed help with a fresh nappy. I don’t know if they were supposed to be joking but I seethed a bit because mum had always taught me to not be disrespectful to grown-ups. So all I could do was turn on my heels and walk away - surely they knew I didn’t wear a nappy?

On the way home I was in a bit of a mood and asked why she hadn’t put them right and protected me but she simply said she wasn’t sure I hadn’t wet myself and didn’t want to embarrass me more by making a fuss. She thought I’d handled it very well... showed I was growing up... and was proud of me.

So, by the time we got home I was really quite pleased with myself and happy with mum’s explanation... she was proud of me.


As we sat on our little balcony, watching the lights of the distant town coming on, mum was totally relaxed and, after the slight annoyance of the ‘wet pants’ incident, I was also happy and relaxed, glad to be home, out of my suit and into something far more comfortable.

I was retelling mum about some of little Alan’s comments and the silly things he’d said during our game of I-spy.

“I-spy with my little eye, something beginning with N” I invited.


He’d looked around and finally answered “Nappy”.


That wasn’t the answer and couldn’t see any so asked where he saw N for nappies?


He pointed to my shorts and then his own “Nappies” he cheerfully shouted.


I could see his but felt guilty that he thought I also must wear them, possibly because we were wearing the same style suit.


We were both laughing. Mum thought it was funny whereas I just pretended I wasn’t alarmed by a two year-old’s comment. She then mentioned Florence Delilah’s lung capacity... she hadn’t stopped crying all the way through the service. We both grinned at her parent’s obvious embarrassment and that the vicar looked relieved when it was over, and then added that she thought Alan was a little treasure.

“He has a really fun attitude for one so young.” She commented. “There’s a real personality there that I’m sure will serve him well as he grows up. You two looked wonderful together... you were the life and soul of the proceedings... thanks.” She smiled.

It seemed a strange thing to say about one so young so I took the opportunity and said that she didn’t have to cope with a leaky nappy like I had, to which she guffawed.

“No David I suppose not.”

“He’s a nice lad but the reaction of everyone else made it look like I was as guilty as he was... a wet toddler...” I moaned in my defence.

“Look love... you mustn’t worry about what others think or don’t think.” She thought for a moment. “Even if you had wet your pant...”

And then she got all weepy reminiscing about how things used to be and how she never minded changing my nappies because it brought us closer together.

Mum had said earlier that it had been quite an emotional day. I’d seen her eyes fill with tears as she’d held little Florence (mum was to be a God-parent) at the font and even seemed reluctant to hand her back to the vicar.

There were times when I’d watched mum cope with her grief over the loss of my dad and although he’d been gone for over six years, she still wept for him and hugged me tightly.

It had been quite a day. It had been fun but also stressful and long. I was glad to be home.

I saw she was getting a bit teary so lent over and gave her a hug. She wanted more, and invited me to sit on her lap. I’d finished my milk and she must have been on her second or third glass of wine but I saw she needed to show how much she loved me.

I sat on her lap and she just clung to me and I heard a little sob come from deep down as she patted my leg through the thin cotton of my jammies.

“Oh Davey, Davey, Davey...” She said as she held me even more tightly. “I hope you never get too big for me to give you a hug sweetie... mummy needs her loving boy more than ever.”

As she hugged and stroked my back she was apologising for being emotional and a “silly mummy”.

Mum is very loving, but I’d noticed recently she was having more frequent need for cuddles and hugs. I didn’t know why... maybe because I was getting older... but I’d never let her down. If mum wanted a hug it was the very least I could do.

However, the next thing she did really surprised me.

After a few minutes I was released and could see the tears she’d shed and I felt guilty but I didn’t know why. I knew I hadn’t caused them but still...

“Come with me love.” She reached out her hand and I took it as she led me off the balcony and into her bedroom.

She asked me to lie out on her bed whilst she went through a couple of draws and began to gather a few things together. I didn’t see what it was until she arrived next to the bed and said she was going to put a nappy on me.

I lay there stunned. I mean, I hadn’t wet myself at the christening... nor had I worn one for a couple of years but more over... why?

“Why mum... why do you...”

“I’m sorry love it’s just... well... Oh love...”

She seemed to be having trouble getting her thoughts together. Eventually, seeing me looking confused she answered.

“I miss having my little boy. You’re growing up and becoming quite the independent young man... and soon you’ll be gone.”

I was stunned by this. I never thought of myself as an independent young man but here she was telling me that’s just what I was. Had I known better I suppose I’d have put it down to too much to drink... she’d had a few at the do after the christening I was sure. However, I don’t like to see mum upset and have tried, whenever those moments do break through, to make things better for her.

“But mum... why a nappy?”

She cried.

“Oh love I’m sorry... I’m just being silly and... a little drunk...” she confided. “I got so envious of your Aunty Jade.... having two babies to look after and who depend on her. I know... silly... but I couldn’t help it. For just a few moments I want my little boy back to when he was reliant on me... and who I can smoother in kisses and hugs.”

“Mum, I am reliant on you... I’m eight.”

“I know love...” I could see her thinking and looking a bit lost if I’m truthful. I’d never seen her quite so ‘sorrowful’ and wasn’t sure what I could do to help.

I didn’t like to see her in that state and after a few silent moments ventured a possible answer.

“Mum, are you sure putting me in a nappy would help?”

She sighed and shrugged but I didn’t get the reply I was after.

I thought a bit more and then said that if it would make a difference then I’d wear a nappy but only for a little while... and she wasn’t to tell anyone.

She beamed a wonderful smile in my direction. “You are a lovely, understanding boy... I’m grateful every day to have someone like you in my life.”


I was surprised at just how much stuff mum had. I suspected it was things left over from when I was a toddler but even so... why had she kept all of it?

At the time it never occurred to me that she was expecting that her and dad would have had more than just me, which of course got me thinking of dad and that made me well up.

I was two when dad died and although my thoughts of him are patchy, mum never stopped telling me what a lovely, loving daddy he was. I missed him and I think that’s why mum and I are so close... she misses him too. It was very emotional as she looked at me and I looked back and at that moment we seemed to need something.

I was thinking of daddy when she pulled off my pyjama bottoms. Part of me was thinking she wasn’t going to go through with it but another part hoped that if she did, it would make her happy. I was torn.

Mum produced some wipes and started cleaning the area up even though I was sure it didn’t need it, after all I hadn’t wet myself earlier.

“Just making it all nice and clean for you sweetie,” she said as if reading my mind.

She then picked up some pink cream and slathered it all over my bottom and pee-pee. I really was confused by what was happening but mum was doing it with such a loving intensity I tried to smile but I think it came out as a grimace.

“Oh sweetie, am I hurting you?” She looked horrified and took her hands away as if suffering an electric shock.

“No, no mum... it’s fine... erm...”

The words ‘it’s fine’ seemed the permission needed to carry on and under a large sprinkling of powder I saw that look of love return to her face.

I still wasn’t overly happy about all this but, as she fluffed out a large terry square, I knew we were past the turning back point.

She folded it into the correct shape and inched it under my bottom. Then pinned it on tightly making sure it gripped my hips.

“There sweetheart, all done... and don’t you look like my special little baby boy?”

I didn’t like the reference to being her baby boy but after all that she’d witnessed today I could see why that thought was in her head.

By now it was getting late and was way past my bedtime so mum pulled back the covers on her bed and got me to climb in.

“You’ll sleep with me tonight... if that’s okay... I need your company...” She said a little wistfully as she went to the bathroom to get herself ready for bed.

I lay there, wearing my Spider-man pyjama top and a thick nappy between my legs. I wasn’t very comfortable and hoped I wouldn’t have to stay wearing it for very long.

Mum returned shortly afterwards and got into bed and immediately gently pulled me into her stomach and bosoms and wrapped me in her loving arms.

“Thank you sweetie... thank you.”

To be honest, I hadn’t slept with mum for over a year and despite the annoying nappy, it was quite nice to be cuddled to sleep. Surprisingly, I dropped off almost immediately.


I woke up a little confused. Mum was shaking my shoulder and telling me to get up.

“Oh sweetie... you’ve wet the bed.”

It didn’t quite register what she was telling me but when it did, I reached down to my nappy and it was soaked.

I was still disorientated from waking up from a very deep and peaceful sleep but not remembering I was in mum’s bed.

“Sweetie, I’m afraid you’ve leaked a little bit but don’t worry...”

I was still groggy as she unpinned the nappy and started to clean me up. I tried to protest but she just asked me to let her take care of it, so I did. She had a towel in her hand and started to wipe me down before applying a few wet wipes, to clean the area up. I hoped that was it and I’d be able to return to my bed but mum had other precautions she wanted to take.

“Okay sweetie,” she said pleasantly, “perhaps you’ve just had too much liquid today so...”

She fluffed out a new nappy.

“Mum, I don’t want to wear another nap...”

“Ssshhhh sweetie, don’t worry... it’s just in case...”

I tried to argue but she just pulled me up from where I was and showed me the wet area. She didn’t need to say more.

I wasn’t in any position to argue as she pinned me in and then, as if from nowhere, opened up a pair of shiny white plastic pants and inched them up and over the bulky fabric.

“Mummm, I, I, no, ermmm...” but she wasn’t listening.

“There sweetie... now you can wet as much as you like.”

I wasn’t happy because I’d just wet the bed and felt ashamed so asked if I could return to my own.

Mum patted my padded bottom and said that was fine so I grabbed my discarded pyjama bottoms and ambled to my room, well aware of the thickness that now accompanied me. I pulled my PJ bottoms up with difficulty but they stretched enough for me to hide the shiny pants underneath.

I climbed into bed wondering why and how I’d managed to wet mum’s bed and I could hear her stripping and changing it. As I rolled over there was a definite crinkle sound and my legs felt they were pulled apart but I wriggled under the duvet and hoped I’d get to sleep. This had been a very strange night but I was very tired so dropped off immediately.

However, come the morning I woke up to find that I’d soaked my protection - I was horrified, indignant and guilt-ridden. I hoped I could hide what I’d done from mum but she came in all happy and sparkling asking if I’d slept any better.

I had no idea why I’d wet again and burst into tears.

“Ohh sweetheart what’s the matter?” She sat on my bed and hugged me.

Thinking I was still anxious about wetting her bed she tried to calm me.

“Don’t worry about last night love... it wasn’t a problem and soon fixed... so...”

I couldn’t bring myself to tell her I was soaked but she’d find out for herself soon enough. I couldn’t let her see...

“Don’t cry love. You have nothing to be worried about. I think we both might have had too much to drink last night.” She smiled as if we were sharing some great secret together. “Silly mummy let her emotions get the better of her. Sorry.”

I couldn’t pretend any longer. “I’m wet.” I sobbed as more tears of shame ran down my cheeks.

The way mum looked she wasn’t sure if I was joking or not.  Reluctantly she pulled away the duvet and slipped her hand under the waistband of my jammies. Hesitantly she pushed at the plastic pants and felt the fabric underneath.


Tears fell... I was devastated.

“Sorry sweetheart, this wasn’t supposed to happen was it?”

I just wanted to stay in bed and hide from the world for the rest of my life. I wet myself... twice... I was so ashamed. I pulled the duvet back over my head and tried to make myself invisible but mum said I needed to get out of the wet and into something dry.

“But mum...”

“Now come on sweetie... it’s only a wet nappy, not the end of the world and besides, the sooner we have you out of it and all cleaned up... the sooner you can forget all about it.”

She was already pulling at my reluctant arm helping me get out of bed then ushering me towards the bathroom.

Off came my pyjamas leaving me standing in just the plastic pants and soaked nappy. I looked in the mirror and I could see the slight sag behind the robust plastic pants.

“Look love, don’t worry. As it is,” she said patting the slippery white glossy surface, “these prevented anything from leaking onto your bed. So better than my bed eh?”

I didn’t like this reminder that I’d wet twice but I couldn’t deny what the night had witnessed and I was so sorry and embarrassed I wasn’t sure what to do.

“Look love, let’s get you cleaned up and then we’ll decide what we’re going to do today.”

I nodded, but not enthusiastically, and stepped under the shower. I stood under the spray and worried that I’d be put into nappies now for the rest of my life. Once out I towelled myself dry and wandered back to my bedroom. I half expected to see mum there but she’d made my bed up and put out some clothes.

“Let’s go to the park and maybe have lunch out... if you fancy that?”

I was feeling a bit better. The shower had eased my mood and the fact mum hadn’t left any baby stuff out brightened me up a little bit more. I slipped on my Spider-Man briefs and grey polo shirt and she’d left out a pair of green shorts, which she knew were my favourite.

By the time I was dressed and had my white K-Swiss sneakers on I was feeling a lot more confident.


The park, on a sunny Sunday, is an ideal place to be. It’s quite large, has a nicely laid out garden area (as we don’t have a garden I’m sure this is why mum loves the place) there’s a large kids play area, a small museum and a lake all within its grounds. It’s a popular place for picnics but mum decided that we’d have a nice pub meal for lunch.

I had a great time with mum as she smelled just about every blossoming plant in the place and then left me to scamper around on the slides and stuff in the kid’s playground. The park is a fantastic space and although we don’t visit that often (it’s two bus rides away) when we do we can never get over the fact we have such a wonderful space in our town.

Time seemed to shoot by and what felt like just minutes turned out to be a couple of hours I’d been playing with a bunch of other kids. Mum called me over and asked if I was hungry and I didn’t realise how starved I was.

Mum knew the pub, The Inn on the Green, would be busy but it was on the edge of the park and had a large beer garden where we could sit out. Thankfully, even with it being a glorious day, we arrived before the crowds and though it was fairly busy, found a couple of seats at a small table and then mum ordered food. A pint of cola and ice came before the meal and I was so thirsty I almost downed the lot in just a couple of gulps. That was in spite of mum telling me to take it slow.

When the meal arrived mum ordered another cola for me and another wine for her and we ate a very pleasant Ploughman’s lunch, with an order of chips. I knew they were more for me than mum and covered in ketchup I couldn’t get enough, although mum insisted I ate the salad that went with the cheesy dish.

After we’d finished the meal the sun was still shining brightly and whilst a relaxed mum had another glass of wine, I went off to play with some other kids whose parents were also having a drink and a meal. I’m not sure how long we played before mum was calling me over and saying it was time we got going. I said my goodbyes and we walked to the bus stop.

We waited for the bus that seemed to be taking for ages and I was bursting for a wee. I was just about to excuse myself and go behind some bushes when it arrived. It was the slowest bus I’d ever been on stopping at every stop. When we got off to change to the one back to our house I was hoping I might be able to pop into the public toilet at the bus station but our bus was in so mum just climbed on board. I hadn’t mentioned my need for a wee and I thought I’d be able to last until we got home.

Alas, two pints of ice cold cola, sloshing around was pressing hard on my bladder and unfortunately, before we got off the bus the front of my shorts were soaked. Mum didn’t even know I’d wet my pants until we stood up to get off and then she saw the state of my clothes and the puddle of pee under the seat. I think she was too embarrassed to say anything to the driver and we got off the bus pretty quickly.

As the bus disappeared mum looked at me with a sort of strange appraising stare.

“Ohh Davey, Davey, Davey... what are we going to do with you?”

I was incredibly self-conscious because not only had I soaked my undies and shorts at the front but it had pooled around my bottom on the bus’s plastic seat and I had the wettest of wet bums. At that moment there was nothing mum could do about it and with our home not too far away I had to suffer the stares and unspoken condemnation as we walked that short (although it felt like miles) distance.

Once inside mum was quick to help me off with my clothes. She didn’t wait for me to do it myself and I was stripped in the kitchen within seconds of us getting through the front door. My stuff was immediately thrown into the washing machine and, after dumping in some washing powder, she set it going. She then turned her attention to me.

I was naked and looking down at the ground embarrassed on two levels.

“Why didn’t you tell me you needed the loo?”

“I’m sorry mum... I thought I could make it but...”

“Somebody has to sit on the seat...”

I think she realised she was complicit in keeping quiet on that front.

“I’m really sorry mum.” I was standing with my head bowed, my hands trying to hide my pee-pee and still totally naked. “Pleeeaaasssseee... don’t be angry.... I am sorry.”

Mum was staring at me and I wasn’t sure what was going through her mind.

“Look love. I’m not angry... just... just surprised that’s all.”

I was glad she wasn’t angry but she was taking a long time in allowing me to get dressed.

“I’m sorry.” I wasn’t sure how many times I’d have to say it before I could put some pants on.

Eventually she seemed to make a decision.

“Okay, let’s get you cleaned up and into something... nice and dry... ehhh?”


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Wow, Les, ME AND MUM is a marvelous story.

I think Dave's Mum is pragmatic. I'm not in the least worried about her, or a real life situation like this.

It is hardly a secret that growing up in my family we often wore just-in-case diapers. Well before I was born our mom was urinary incontinent. I was toilet trained before I was 3, but my bladder was tiny and over active. My sister Penny is five years older. By the time I was four Penny wet far more often than me.

Funny thing is the brother between Penny and me never needed a diaper. However my other brother, Ed, is only a year my junior. Ed continued to wet his bed often enough that he was diapered nightly until he was nearly 11. Ed also day wet often enough that he preferred to be diapered as soon as he was home from school until he was nearly 10.

Needless to say, I am fascinated what the future hols for Dave and his Mum!

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Oh yes this is the type of story I always wrote when I was writing

on this site. I still do but I write them for myself now.

I hope it goes a little deeper and she does what she use to do when

David was her baby boy.

As always your writing is right on and your imagination is great. ?


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Thanks for all the comments guys ?

The second part will be with you in a short while and I hope it takes the story further though not necessarily answers all your questions... just yet.

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Part 2


We went to the bathroom where she soaked a cloth in warm soapy water then proceeded to wipe and clean the entire area. I desperately wanted to do it myself, I was way too old for mum to be doing it, but thought I’d better stay quiet for the time being.

She dried me thoroughly and hugged me as she did it (so I knew my little mishap was forgiven) and led me through to my bedroom.

“Okay Davey... I’m going to put you in a nappy now...”

“NO MUM... no... no... please mum don’t... I can make it to the toilet...”

Even as I said it realised that I hadn’t made it there so far... so my protest was fairly lame. However, I still stomped my feet in a childish way to show I wasn’t doing it willingly.

“I’m sure you can love but, I’m sorry, you’ve wet a couple of times now and I just want to make sure.”

She finished drying between my legs.

“But it’s early yet... erm... I... errrr... um...” I was trying to delay the inevitable because I saw mum was right, I had wet for no reason although... my mind was thinking... she was the one who’d put me in a nappy in the first place.

“I know love, I know... and it’s just for tonight. If you wake up dry, which I’m sure you will, you don’t have to wear a nappy again.... okay... it’s just for tonight.”

She was appealing to my sensible side but I just thought I was trapped and certainly wasn’t going to be put into a nappy again.

“Mum it’s not fair. It was an accident.”

I wriggled naked in her embrace trying to prove I wasn’t happy about the situation, meanwhile trying to re-cover myself with the towel.

“Stop that.” She said smacking my hand away. It didn’t hurt but I could tell she wasn’t playing around. I was naked so had she decided to smack me harder I knew I was pretty exposed.

“But it was an accident...” I whimpered hopelessly.

“I know love but... that’s twice... no... three times you’ve wet yourself.”

She seemed to be back to her understanding self.

I also think she might have been feeling a bit guilty about letting me drink two large colas and wondering how much was left for me to pee out.

“But it’s not fair, I don’t know...” and the tears I’d been holding back tumbled from my eyes.


Mum laid me on my bed and went to get the things she needed. I wanted to fight but knew I wasn’t going to because I wasn’t angry with her but with myself. She gently rubbed in cream and powder and hesitating, shook out a terry nappy. Whilst folding it she kept reassuring me for having to do so but thought, for the moment at least, it was for the best.

It was incredibly strange lying there knowing what was about to happen, not wanting it to and yet not being able to stop it. My mind was fighting the urge to throw a tantrum, throw a shoe, make some kind of protest but it was if my body had decided otherwise and I lay immobilised.

Once pinned in, I was still sobbing and annoyed at having to wear a nappy but strangely not annoyed at the nappy because it was really quite comforting. She then slipped up a pair of plastic pants and, as my Spider-Man jammies were also in the wash, put me straight into my Hulk jammies. They were loose green shorts with a white and green top and an image of the Hulk angrily glaring at the world... a bit like me.  

Although it was early I said nothing and once she’d finished went and sat in front of the TV and watched whatever was on. She asked if I was hungry but said ‘NO’... although I was thirsty. The washing had finished in the drier so, after she’d put stuff away she came and sat by me. I’d lost most of my frustrations by then and had got used to the slippery pants holding my nappy up. Mum stretched out her arm and reluctantly I crawled into the crook and let her cuddle me. It was nice.

Despite the great wedge of material between my legs I comfortably relaxed in mum’s embrace and we watched a couple more things before she told me it was time for bed.

“Mum, I’m thirsty... can I have a drink?”

“I’m not sure baby just before you go to bed.”

“But I’ll be alright... I could do with something.”

“Okay. Well how about just a little milk.”

“Cold milk?”

She gazed out the window as the sun was setting.

“Of course.”

“Okay, thanks mum.”

“Get yourself in bed and I’ll bring it through.”

I climbed under the duvet but that was way too warm so folded it down to the foot of the bed and just propped myself up against the bedhead.

“Sip it slowly whilst I get things ready for school tomorrow.”

She had brought only a small glass but it was so cool and refreshing I quickly downed it in two thirsty gulps. Mum didn’t notice as she pottered around gathering my school uniform and various bits and pieces and piled them on the chair. So, when she turned around I’d settled the glass on the bedside table and was settling myself down and getting as comfy as I could.

“Thanks mum, that was nice.” She appeared surprised that I’d finish so soon.

Mum kissed my forehead, wished me pleasant dreams and set off with the empty glass. I didn’t think I was that tired but I suppose the hectic day had taken its toll and I was asleep in no time at all.


I woke up feeling quite disorientated... and sobbing. The final dream I was having... or had... was of me swirling down into a pit of something stinky and deep... I didn’t know what. I was hugging onto something soft for dear life and crying into it. Eventually I woke up lying on my front half in and half out of bed and found my leg tangled in the duvet cover. The next thing I comprehended was my nappy was soaked and then I noticed something else... I wasn’t only wet. No wonder I was crying.

I didn’t dare move and was worried what mum would say. I lay there crying and trying to think, neither of which was doing me any good but then mum came in to get me up for school.

It didn’t take her long to detect the strange smell in the room.

“Oh love... not another accident... I knew I shouldn’t have given you that cold milk last thing.”

“Mummmm, I’m sorry... it’s not just the...” I whimpered.

“Yes love... I think I can tell. Let’s take a look shall we?”

It wasn’t something I wanted to do but knew it had to be done so slowly inched out of bed on my tummy and presented my bedraggled self for mum to inspect.

“Well, the good thing is your jammies are dry” She pulled the shorts down and had me climb out of them.

With the slightest movement I could feel the mess in the back of the nappy squished up against my skin.

She slowly eased the plastic pants down. “Well these did a good job keeping it all in.”

The nappy was absolutely sodden and the bulky back sagged making a strange sensation as it slid down a bit.

Throughout all this I was bawling like a two year old and saying sorry in a very low whisper. I couldn’t understand how it had happened.

“Well no more cold drinks last thing at night for you young man.” Mum said trying to brighten the mood as she guided me into the bathroom. “Let’s get you all cleaned up and ready for school.”

Once she’d cleaned up the mess I was left to take a shower as she got on with other stuff. When I got out and dried myself off mum was waiting with a tube of something she wanted to smear all over my bum.

“We need to make sure we keep the area moisturised.” She said as I stood in front of her naked as she smoothed in the cream. “It’s an antiseptic so should keep you free from any nasty stuff.”

I couldn’t argue and mum was thorough in her application. Then she reached over and pulled up a pair of my old training pants. I wore normal cotton briefs to school but I think she was trying to avoid any disasters.

“I know this isn’t what you want to wear but sweetie... we need to just take a bit of care. We don’t want you coming home in wet shorts again now do we?”

I let out a huge sigh as she had me step in them... they were quite tight but I managed to get them on. The cartoon pattern of teddy bears and blocks had a waterproof covering and not right for someone my age. So, although I didn’t want to wear them, I knew mum was only trying to help. They were only slightly padded so wouldn’t make that much difference except... I knew I’d be wearing something designed for a toddler. As it was I was feeling very guilty and very ashamed so didn’t put up any kind of argument except the occasional sigh.

“They’ll look fine,” mum urged, “once you’ve got the rest on.”

My grey school shorts followed as did my pale blue shirt with the school crest on it.

“Sweetie, I’m sure you’re going to be fine... this is just a little precaution but, if you do have an accident, don’t keep it to yourself, go and tell a teacher and let them sort you something out. However,” she beamed at me, “I’m sure this will all be over by the time you get home this afternoon.”

After breakfast she patted my slightly padded bum and told me to have a nice day and forget all about my night time accident. However, I found that almost impossible as I kept wondering how such a thing could happen. Eventually I put it down to the scary dream I’d been having.

School passed without incident and I managed to get to the boy’s room at lunchtime without incident. I arrived home and mum was at the computer with a glass of wine and her greeting was bright but a little slurred.

“I’ve nearly got your tea ready love... but shall we just check your nap... errrmmm... pants first ehh?”

“I’m dry mum, no problem I don’t need a change.”

“Great, then go and change into something better to play in and then you can go out as long as you’re back by 5 o’clock for our meal... okay?”

She took a sip of her wine and continued to read whatever was interesting her on the computer.

I went to my room and slipped out of the shorts and was mystified to find the training pants underneath more than a little damp. I felt guilty again as I’d just told mum I was dry and here I was, soaked. I quickly stepped out of the thicker, wet trainers and jumped into a normal pair of briefs before climbing into a pair of blue cargo shorts.

“Davey,” I heard mum call up the stairs, “Gary and Ali are at the door... don’t keep them waiting.”

Gary and Ali are my best friends and we often have games and go off cycling together. This time they’d brought their skateboards and planned on setting up our own obstacle and jump course. We often did this so knew what to do.

I just left my wet training pants on top of a pile of other clothes and went off to play.


When I got home for tea mum was sitting quietly at the table as if deep in thought.

“Anything to tell me Davey?” I didn’t know how she knew but I did have something to tell her.

“Yes, Gary’s dad is setting up a tent in their back garden and planning a sleepover... or sleep out... on Friday night and asked if I want to go. Can I mum?”

We didn’t have a great deal of spare money, although mum always said we get by ok, so this was like a major holiday event. I’d never camped out before and this seemed such an opportunity to do something I’d never even dreamed about before. It would be an adventure, even if it was just overnight.

Gary’s family were planning a camping holiday in a couple of weeks and wanted to try out their new tent first, to make sure they  knew how to set it up and if it did what it was supposed to do. Gary had said there would be a sort of bar-b-q type of meal and then, with the tent set up at the bottom of the garden it would be up to us - Gary, his four year-old brother Will, me and Ali - to try out.

I told mum all this and, as they only live a couple of streets away and we’d been friends all my life, couldn’t see there’d be any difficulty but mum was considering my plea. Besides Mr and Mrs Dooley, Gary’s mum and dad,  would only be feet away in the house so we should be safe. I think she was just pretending that she might say no because she smiled and said.

“I can’t think why not sweetie but we’ll have to see how things go wont we?”

I wasn’t sure what she meant but I was beaming about the camp out.

A sleep out ‘under the stars’... wow.... even if it was only in a back garden. It was all quite exciting.

After the meal I helped mum dry the plates then went into the living room and planned the nights viewing. Mum has a favourite ‘soap’ she likes to watch but I can watch the Children’s Channel before and after she’s had her half hour of whatever was happening on The Street.

I claimed my spot in front of the screen whilst mum went upstairs to her room to sort something out. I was laughing at a show where some kids from an American High School were putting on a play and had tricked a teacher to dress as a baby. It was very funny and the teacher looked silly and it got me wondering if we could get one of our teachers to dress that way – either Miss Simmons or Miss Gateby – both I think would look great as big babies.

At eight mum told me it was bedtime and said she’d be up in a minute. I made my way to my room and was shocked to see a nappy and plastic pants laid out next to my jammies. For some reason I assumed I wouldn’t need a nappy anymore.

Mum came in carrying my training pants and held them out. I’d completely forgotten about them and I could tell from the look of disappointment on mum’s face that I should have said something.

“Sorry mum, I, I er... ummm...” I tried to find an excuse but mum just pointed to the nappy and told me to take off my clothes.


I was once again flushed with the feeling of guilt. I felt stupid for not mentioning it to her but in truth, I had felt ashamed at having wet again. However, I hadn’t tried to hide anything I’d just forgotten to mention it. I could blame no one but myself for being found out.

Once naked she called me over as she sat on the edge of my bed.

“I’m very disappointed in you Davey... I thought we were honest with each other and you’ve let me down.” She patted her lap and beckoned me over.

She pulled me over her knee and I began to quake. Mum had never spanked me before and I couldn’t believe this was happening.

“Please mum, mummy... I’m sorry... pleeeaaassse don’t spank me. Please mummy please.” I begged.

She patted my bare bottom.

“Oh Sweetie... I’m not going to spank you but I am going to inspect you to make sure you aren’t getting a rash. After the number two in your nappy from this morning... and these wet pants... I just want to check that you haven’t got any inflammation. So don’t worry... there’ll be no spanking.”

With some relief I relaxed and let mum begin to massage the cream she had in her hand. Once she got to my bottom she said she was afraid it looked quite red.

“Okay love, you’re a bit sore so I’m going to put a bit more cream on and in your bottom and hope that’s enough.”

She squeezed a huge dollop onto her fingers.

“This might feel a little bit strange but I don’t want any possible infection to spread... that would be worse... so...”

She patted my bottom reassuringly.

“Do you itch?”

“Nnnnoo.” I replied but wasn’t sure if I did or didn’t because at that moment mum packed more cream deep into my bottom.

It was a strange sensation and I was having quite a number of those. Unfortunately, it was a sensation I didn’t know whether was pleasant or scary as it happened so quickly.

I gave a shiver.

“Sorry Sweetie, just making sure we have it all covered. Anyway, that’s done now so let’s get you in to a nice dry nappy.”


I didn’t want to be put into a nappy but once mum had me thoroughly creamed and powdered I didn’t see I had much choice. She was very nice, trying to be positive and telling me it was only for that night, “Unless you wet again” she mischievously added.  

I assumed she thought I wouldn’t wet (or worse) again and would be out of this stupid nappy by the morning. However, nothing made me feel more like a silly little kid than when she wriggled up the plain white plastic pants and pulled them over the massive fabric.

This was getting to be a habit but again, the act of complaining just evaporated and she got on with the job. It was like - “What do you expect... you’re messing in your pants like a baby?”  However, mum never used such words she seemed to understand.

She asked if I wanted to wear my pyjamas because the previous night I’d been quite hot. I really wanted to hide the fact I was wearing a nappy so pulled my Hulk jammies on in an effort to conceal everything.


“Yes love.”

“These plastic pants make a noise...”

“I’m sorry sweetheart but that’s all we’ve got... and I think you need to wear them for the time being.”

“Okay, but after tomorrow...”

“Well... let’s see shall we? I think you’re going to have a wonderful night’s sleep... look...” She produced my old bear from under the bed.  “Do you want Teddy back... just for tonight?”

“Muummm.” I was half dismissing the idea and then thinking it wasn’t such a bad one.

“I was only asking because you always slept better when you had him to hug.”

Mum had got me thinking, I did sleep better.

“Yes, alright but only for tonight.”

She smiled as she put him in my arms.

“There, you immediately look a lot happier.”

There was a look on mum’s face I hadn’t seen before. I can’t really explain it but it was as if she’d found something, an understanding or insight that made her face light up. She stroked my hair.

Strangely it was nice to hug the bear as I wriggled and crinkled to get comfortable.

“See you in the morning sweetheart.” The next two words seemed loaded with affection. “Love you.”

“Love you too mummy.”

Oh God I’d said ‘mummy’, she’ll think I’m becoming a baby. Anyway, she didn’t say anything when she turned off the light and closed the door.

## tbc ##

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I think someone is gonna wake up with a "surprise" they weren't expecting....

Les Lea again you surprise us with another wonderful tale. Davey and his mum may have to reconsider teddy and the nappies.

Thank you for continuing to share your wonderful stories with us!

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Part 3

I hadn’t had Teddy with me for over a year but found myself talking to him and telling him about the last couple of days. I tried to explain to him why I was wearing stuff that I hadn’t dressed in since I was four and that it was simply a ‘precaution’. I didn’t go into the exact whys and wherefores, but I asked him to make sure I didn’t do anything silly. I think I must have dropped off fairly soon as I don’t remember anything else.

I woke up feeling very strange... I was also filling the back of my nappy.

“MUMMY, mummmmmyyy.” I cried.

She arrived in moments and asked if I was having a bad dream.

It was weird because even as mum spoke I was carelessly filling my nappy with both pee and poo.

Soon the new smell was overpowering so I didn’t have to explain anymore.

“Ohh darling, no, no, noooo... not again.”

 I was lying on my side filling the nappy and crying. I was so ashamed yet I could do nothing to stop crap exit my body.

“Come on love, get up and let’s...” She could see I wasn’t quite finished and waited until the grimace on my face faded and the tears took over.

“Don’t cry sweetheart, don’t cry... it’s just an accident and... thankfully... we were prepared for it so... no harm done.”

Gently stroking the plastic pants I’m sure mum meant it to be consoling but I wasn’t thanking the nappy... I was just too embarrassed that I’d done this twice in two days and couldn’t think why?


As I stood shamefaced in the bathroom mum surveyed the destruction.

“I’m so sorry sweetheart... this looks quite a mess.”

I could feel what she meant. Each step towards the bathroom had been an experience I could have done without. The smell was awful but the sticky, droopy nappy, even held in place by the plastic pants, made me feel sick. Two seconds later and I was bent over the bowl, with my sticky bottom in the air, throwing up whatever had not already been deposited in the icky material.

Mum rubbed my back as I got rid of everything I’d eaten over the past week... or that’s what it felt like as I wretched and pooed.

Once I’d finished I was worn out and completely done in. Mum said all the colour had drained from my face and looked incredibly miserable. I don’t think she was being unkind... cos I felt terrible.

“Let’s get you changed and back into bed... no school for you today.” She said as if this would somehow compensate for the way I was feeling. It didn’t though I was in no condition to comment.

She cleaned me up and changed me into another thick nappy. She told me to rest and try and get some sleep as she was sure that would make me feel a lot better. She mumbled something about ‘food poisoning’ and letting the school know but I lay in my nice warm bed, surrounded by the thickest nappy yet and shivering. I grabbed Teddy and we trembled together.


I was exhausted and despite the shakes did as mum suggested and tried to sleep. I woke up to find her faffing around, spraying the room with a lavender air freshener. The slight hiss made me wonder if I was actually peeing myself again. I wasn’t because I already had.

“What time is it?” I croaked.

“Just after noon... you’ve slept for over four hours. How do you feel?”

I wasn’t sure but the ache in my belly had gone and although I felt beat, I somehow did feel that the worst was over.

“Better... I think.” I rubbed the front of the expanded plastic pants.

“You’re wet sweetie. You wet about ten o’clock but I didn’t want to wake you. I thought it more important you got some sleep. Anyway, you’re awake now so let’s get that soggy thing off shall we?”

I know I should have felt guilty for wetting again but I was just relieved that the protection had worked. I wriggled a little trying to feel if I’d done worse than just pee but my bum wasn’t sticky so that was something I guess.

“Mum. Why am I wetting so much?”

“I don’t know sweetheart,” she said as she pulled down the plastic pants and unpinned the soaked fabric nappy. “I’ve been on the net to try and find an answer but it keeps telling me different stuff but...” and shrugged her shoulders.

She left that last bit unsaid whilst she became more interested in cleaning up my damp skin. She wiped me down, oiled and powdered the area and, without discussing it, simply slipped another huge nappy with booster pads under me and pinned me in. A different pair of shiny blue plastic pants were then shimmied up my legs and the fabric tucked behind it.

I noticed that there was more stuff on the dresser and asked where she’d got these new plastic pants.

“Whilst you slept I visited the pharmacy on Town Street. They had more stuff than I thought they would. I had an interesting chat with the man behind the counter and apparently, youthful problems like yours are not uncommon.”

I’m sure this information was supposed to make me feel better but it didn’t. I looked down at the bulk that now seemed to be a permanent attachment and sighed deeply. The last day or so had been pretty chaotic but I didn’t know if I’d caught some bug... and what are youthful problems exactly?

“Thankfully sweetheart, you’ve got some of your colour back... how are you feeling?”


“Okay then, let’s get you up and... do you fancy trying to eat a little something... perhaps a drink?”

I was parched and hungry but was scared of eating at that moment so settled for a hot chicken cup-o-soup, which mum brought me as I sank down on the sofa in front of the TV. Mum was very attentive all day checking I was feeling OK whilst also checking my nappy. I was getting a lot of hugs and was allowed to watch what I wanted on TV but by late afternoon she thought I should try something to eat. Mum said she was having vegetarian pasta and I thought that sounded fairly safe so agreed to have a small amount. It was delicious.


I’d spent the entire day wearing a t-shirt and enormous, puffy plastic pants and had to admit that after the first hour or so, forgot that I was wearing them. Well, not forgot, but at least I wasn’t as inhibited by them. So when it came to bed time and I was still dry mum suggested I just put my jammies over it all and toddle off to bed. It was before eight o’clock but I had yawned once or twice as I’d watched some kid’s show so couldn’t complain when mum pointed upstairs.

“School tomorrow young man... no matter what... you’re not missing two days.” Mum kissed me night-night and pushed Teddy into my arms. “You two look good together...” I’m sure she said more but the noise from the rustling (both the newly added plastic sheet and my pants) as I turned on my side, drowned out her words.

I suppose I could have guessed the return of the plastic sheet to cover the mattress as it was only on my seventh birthday it had been removed. Mum thought I no longer needed it because by then I hadn’t had a night time accident for over six months. I couldn’t complain because she thought it might be needed again.

I hugged Teddy and my mind, although a bit doozy, was trying to make sense of what had happened over the past few days... and those youthful problems. I could feel a hot flush from head to foot as I guiltily thought about how I’d twice pooed myself. Of course the wetting had started immediately mum, in one of her ‘emotional’ episodes, had got me to wear a nappy. I didn’t know why but that appeared to be the moment when all this began... so it must be down to mum.

The hot flush had passed but unaccountably I also noticed I’d wet my nappy and had only just got into bed. I was wondering how I could blame mum for that when I’d sort of done it myself. I was just about to get up and tell her what had happened but instead I guiltily cuddled Teddy and tried to get to sleep. Oddly, the warming glow to the fabric helped me relax and I slept right through until morning.


Mum was once again organising my room when I woke up. She’d laid out my school uniform and was putting stuff away in the dresser. She turned to look at me and I had a question.

“Mum, why did you put me in a nappy after the christening?”

“Oh sweetheart, I’m sorry. You know I got a bit ‘tired and emotional’ (drunk) and being around Florence and Alan just reminded me of how much I missed the nappies, feeding and nonstop cuddling when you were a tot. I loved being ‘mummy’ and still do but you’re growing up and I know I can’t expect such things...”

She looked at me as if that explained everything.

“Look, I can see you’re wet so why don’t we get you out of...”

How she knew I’d wet again I wasn’t sure but she didn’t seem annoyed or surprised that I had.

“Mum, I don’t want to wear a nappy again.” I was being firm. “I don’t like you treating me as a baby and making me poo my pants.”

Poo your pants?” Mum looked confused. “Sweetheart, is that what you think?”

I nodded, not forgetting she’d shoved some ointment up my bottom the night before.

“What about the ointment you used on my bum?”

She looked shaken. “I can assure you that none of the wetting... or pooing... has anything to do with me at all.”

She went to the top of the  dresser where the tube still was and asked me to read the label – to soothe inflammation and prevent nappy rash.

“I didn’t mention it was for nappy rash as I thought if I used that term you might feel I was babying you.”

She looked quite cross and stood for a moment as if assessing things, not too sure whether to carry on. Whatever reluctance there had been soon disappeared and she continued.

“Yes... I put you in a nappy...” there was a pause as if she was going to add something else but decided against it, “but the rest has all been down to you.”

Now it was my turn to be annoyed. I looked grumpy and defiant at her to show I wasn’t convinced by that explanation.

“In fact, I’ve been looking it up on the internet and I didn’t want to say anything because, well, quite frankly, I thought it was something you wanted but didn’t know you... erm... wanted.”

I was stunned.

“It says on there that some young boys... and it does appear to be mainly boys... like the feel of nappies hugging their... ummm... privates... and... like the... attention... using that item brings.”

I was dumbfounded at the suggestion mum had gleaned from the web.

“But, but, I’m not, erm, like that. I don’t want to poo my...”

“I’m sorry love but,” she searched for some explanation, “leaving your obviously soaked training pants on view and then pooing in your nappy I thought were definite signs you wanted this to carry on.” She waved her hand in the direction of my thick nappy. “All that emotional crying and hugging... and cuddling Teddy,” there was a slight pause as her features relaxed. “If truth be told, I quite liked your dip into toddlerdom. It brought out a nice feeling of me and you affectionately bonding all over again. I liked it.”


I was bewildered. Surely mum was to blame not me. I mean, I didn’t want to be put in a nappy. It was her who’d suggested it.

“Mum you suggested I wear a nappy.” I was almost begging her to take responsibility. “I’ve never thought about it... it was only after I wet my pants... erm, I mean... after Alan had leaked all over...” Suddenly I saw a link of some kind. Perhaps mum wasn’t sure I hadn’t wet myself, perhaps she actually thought I had...

There was a slight incline of her head as if she realised I’d cottoned on to something that everyone else already knew... oh no... not that. She was easing me into wearing a nappy because she thought I needed... or wanted one... oohhhh.

That hot flush I’d experienced before was as nothing compared to the shudder that coursed through my entire body. I could physically feel my face turn red, whilst the rest of my physique seemed to glow from the heat I was giving off. Of course, under all this reaction I spurted more jets of pee into the already saturated fabric.

It hadn’t occurred to me until that moment that I’d been bouncing Alan on my knee whilst we’d played our games in church. He was all loving and cuddly and we were having fun. I remembered liking the way his padding felt and his cheery unfettered happiness; then the game of ISpy beginning with the letter ‘N’.

Nappies” and little Alan giggled and wriggled in my lap.

I was somehow envious of a two year old.

It suddenly hit me that perhaps I might have actually wet myself and wondered if that had been the case. Then I remembered, no one actually believed it was Alan who’d soaked me, they assumed I’d done so myself.

All this was going on in my head, whilst at the same time trying to make mum admit it was all her fault.

“Yes love, I did suggest it... and to be honest...” Again it looked like she wanted to say something else, to explain things but then couldn’t bring herself to do so. “At that moment it was something that I liked the idea of, err, um, and to be honest... as a way of letting you decide...” She looked at me with such tenderness, “It wasn’t something I was sure you’d agree to... so, when you did...”

She left me to fill in the implication.

I didn’t know what to say... or admit to something I wasn’t sure was my responsibility... but there again...?

“Since you’ve worn a nappy... you’ve used it. I’ve not made you... you’ve done that on your own. I can’t say I wasn’t surprised at first but... well... to be honest, that’s what a nappy’s for.”

I was stunned. This can’t be down to me. I don’t want to wear a nappy I’m eight almost nine years-old. It’s all mum’s fault.

“Anyway love, you’re wet, erm, very wet at the moment and you have school... so...”

“Mum I don’t want to go to school wearing a nappy.”

“That’s not a problem darling but, and I’m suggesting this just as a precaution, you should wear waterproof training pants at least.”


Mum went to the pile of stuff on the dresser and showed me some new training pants and I could only guess that these were something else she’d recently acquired on her trip to the High Street. I wasn’t sure just what she and the pharmacist had discussed (youthful problems indeed), but seemed prepared for... something.

So, after my clean up that’s what I did, I wore my new childish, multi-layered training pants under my school wear but mum added an extra soaker pad and, as it turned out, was very glad to have that extra bit of protection.

All day the only thing that I could think about was ‘did I wet myself in church on purpose?’ I wasn’t sure I’d have been capable of doing such a thing until lunchtime when I noticed my training pants were drenched. Well, actually, the training pants weren’t too bad but the soaker pad was saturated.

I’d never thought about it before but a tribe of eight year-old boys certainly use the school toilet quite a lot and the handful of stalls were in constant use. However, because my pants weren’t displaying any outward sign of what had happened I was really grateful for the plastic layer in the colourful training pants that managed to prevent any leakage.

I waited as patiently as I could outside in the fresh air watching what appeared to be an endless parade of kids going to the loo. Although I was wet I didn’t want to attract any attention to myself if anyone saw my padding. I was also at a loss as to know why I’d suddenly started to pee my pants like a toddler.

So I could, and maybe had, wet without knowing I was doing so - this was a very strange moment. But why had it started in the church and at no other time? I wondered how a two year-old could have affected me so much... surely it wasn’t just down to Alan’s padding.

Eventually, the queue died down and I took my opportunity.

Whilst in the boy’s room I fished out the very wet soaker pad and tried to flush it down the loo, it didn’t go without loads of flushing. My pants felt a bit strange without that extra cushioning so added several sheets of toilet paper down the front.


Not too surprisingly, when back home I told mum I was very soggy, the paper had all but disintegrated under the extra pee I’d deposited in it. She asked if I thought it might be better to put me in a nappy straight away.

Although she was asking I didn’t think I had much option.

She held out her hand, which I took, and led me up to my room. I was amazed she’d already reorganised it. It was like stepping back four or five years - all my stuffed toys were arranged at the bottom of the bed. I noticed that my old childhood duvet cover with a huge image of Bambi now covered it, whilst the set of drawers had a pile of nappies neatly stacked.

I looked on in amazement. It was if she’d known I’d return home soaked. I let out a sigh but it wasn’t one of disappointment, it was one of recognition... I wasn’t sure how to react.

“I want my little boy to be as happy as he can be.” She whispered softly. “I know what he wants and I’m happy with that.” As she gently removed my clothes, her light touch tickled my bare skin, which had me squirming in delight.

I’d all but forgotten that when I was a baby mum’s name for me was Bambi. It caught on and soon all my relations were calling me that and you could tell because about fifty percent of my stuffed toys were of that big-eyed baby deer. When I got to be an annoying toddler I seemed to lose that nickname... perhaps I wasn’t as wide-eyed and innocent then?

Mummy wondered what all the soggy paper in my pants was all about and I had to admit to wetting on more than one occasion. She grinned and told me I’d done well to come up with some extra padding but suggested, in future, we’d organise things a bit better.

Once all the bits of paper had been removed and mummy had cleaned me up I wriggled naked on the bed as she applied extra powder and soaker pads before fastening me in to a new, thicker nappy she’d recently bought. The feeling of being so loved and looked after was overpowering and I stretched out my arms to hug her.

“Oh sweetie... mummy loves her little cuddle-bum as well.”


We snuggled together enjoying the moment... I also realised that this was going to change the way things were for some time to come.

“Well, it looks like my little Bambi is very happy.” Mummy fussed. “Let’s get you into these new lovely vinyl panties and then you’ll be set for the night.”

She smiled reassuringly as they were gently tugged into position; the smooth glossy colourful cartoon material sliding effortlessly over the huge mound of material.

The devotion she gave to each step of the proceedings was fantastic. She smiled and tickled, goo-gooed and blew raspberries and constantly reassured me that her sweet little boy was the complete centre of attention.

Despite the return to juvenile references it was impossible for me not to feel so safe, secure and happy. How my life could have changed so quickly and to this...?

“Mum, erm, mummy... when did you know?” I wasn’t sure I wanted to know but I asked anyway.

“Well sweetie... the pattern of wetness on your shorts in church didn’t really match any leaks that could have come from Alan. When we checked him his shorts were only wet where he’d been sitting on your lap.”

She left me to make the obvious deduction - no wonder everyone was asking if I needed a change.

How come everyone seemed to know what happened except me?

“Mum... mummy... did everyone think I’d wet myself?”

She nodded.

“But why... I’d not had a puddle in my pants since I was... what... four?”

She just shrugged.

“And why then and there... it doesn’t make any sense?” I tried to rationalise my situation but even mum seemed not have an answer.

“I don’t know love but... if what the internet and the pharmacist are saying is correct... it’s just a phase, nothing to worry about and you’ll be over it as soon as... well...”

She hugged me tightly I suppose to give me hope and encouragement. She patted my padding and whispered that everything was alright and I wasn’t to worry... she would see to everything.

“Tomorrow afternoon after school Alan’s coming to visit and is looking forward to playing with you again. Apparently he told his mummy you’re the bestest friend he’s ever had.”

I felt quite giddy under such praise and became so weirdly excited a spurt of pee rushed into my newly acquired protection. Then became guilty at what I’d done though it was something I definitely couldn’t blame mummy for. As I didn’t know how many more such actions my body would undertake before bedtime I decided not to tell her.

She hugged and patted my slinky bottom and whispered more reassurance in my ear. I didn’t know if she could tell I was already wet or not but I liked the way she looked me lovingly in the eye and revealed.

“There’s absolutely no way I’m letting my little Bambi out of these lovely smooth and glossy padded panties...” she stroked and patted my bottom lovingly.

I returned mum’s cuddles and sunk my face into her neck thinking just how strange things sometimes turn out.

## tbc ##

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Part 4


Mum couldn’t explain why I was now waking up soaked, or having wet spells during the day. What she had said was that according to the man at the pharmacy, I wasn’t the only one. So, although nappies were what she thought I needed, I knew I wasn’t the only boy my age that had these ‘accidents’.


However, I now understood that I’d wet first in church, and the nappy mum asked me to wear came second. I have to say that this realisation shook me completely, which had a strange reaction. It made my body flush very hot, I got the shakes and quite unexpectedly I peed my pants.

Although I now knew the time scale (as mum put it) I still had no real idea why. Mum inferred that some boys my age wanted to wear nappies, which I thought was stupid, that is until mum put me in one. I might have tried to deny it but once wearing protection I think I quite liked the way it made me feel. However, there was a guilt level that left me confused.

The following day, for the first time, I went to school wearing protection. Mum asked me if the training pants would be OK but I wanted something thicker as I wasn’t confident I’d be able to last. I think mum knew this but was letting me decide.

“Sensible choice love.”

I ended up wearing my trainers over a nice light disposable, which I have to admit felt really comfy.

Oddly enough, I didn’t feel any awkwardness as I waddled into class and I’m not sure anyone noticed; if they did they didn’t say anything. I searched my classmates for any of these ‘others’ but didn’t detect anything obvious so thought they were like me and just hid their padding. Anyway, after all the wetting I’d done recently (I’d woken up soaked that morning as well) I was wondering if I’d simply given up on any self-control. However, I promised myself that the moment I felt I needed the toilet I’d get to the boy’s room as soon as I could.

Up until lunchtime this appeared to be working fine, although I had a struggle trying to get my fingers under the tight training pants and through the fabric of the disposable. However, I managed to do it once with only a slight over-splash on the front of my shorts. Thankfully, with the weather being so nice the spit-spots dried up very quickly and left no stain. There were other lads (not sure if the girls had any trouble) who also had a drip-stain on their pants so I wasn’t alone. The upshot was that I was quite proud of taking back control and wondered how I’d lost it in the first place.

Then, after lunch, at 2.15 I could feel I needed the loo but was too slow in appreciating just how much and I filled my disposable in class. So for the rest of the lesson, and the trip home, I had to wear a very soggy disposable that my trainers were holding in place. What had started in the morning as something nice and snug became a soggy, rumpled and uncomfortable mass.

When I got home Aunt Jade and Alan had already arrived. Aunty was sat talking to mum on our sunny little balcony and Alan was in the living room watching TV. As soon as he saw me he screeched my name and came running up for a hug. I gave him what he wanted. I patted his padded bottom and he patted mine, neither of us said anything about it but I told him I needed to go and get changed. He said he needed one as well.

Mum and aunty heard this exchange and, whereas I was talking about getting out of my school uniform, he of course meant he had a wet nappy. He didn’t know I also had one but was reluctant to say anything to mum in front of his mummy.

“Do you need your nappy changed sweetie?” I heard aunty from the balcony.

Alan giggled at me and ambled towards where his mother was. I followed.

Mum looked at me and asked if I’d had a nice day at school and I nodded.

“And... how’s your nappy sweetheart?” She innocently enquired.

I could feel the blush on my face as I was shocked by mum’s lack of discretion about my situation. I looked down at my shoes in embarrassment.

“Oh sweetie, don’t be shy... your aunty knows all about your current circumstances. She knows some boys your age have a setback so you don’t need to feel ashamed or shy about it...”

“Look,” aunty said to mum, “I need to change Alan so I might as well do Davey at the same time.”

“Oh, that would be a great help whilst I start getting tea ready... you are both staying aren’t you?”

“No sis, afraid not. I’ve left Florence with Daphne (the baby’s grandmother on her father’s side) and I said I’d collect her around 5-ish.”

“That’s a shame, well, these two,” she said looking at two bedraggled boys, “need to get dry nappies on asap... so I’ll leave it to you and I’ll get on with a bit of ironing.” Mum smiled at her sister seeming glad not to have to change me on this occasion. “Use his room as all the stuff you’ll need is there... you might need extra soakers for Davey though.”

With that aunty picked up Alan’s nappy bag and we were both herded upstairs into my room.


“Well this is all very nice.” She said as she took in the Bambi duvet cover, pile of toys and stuffed animals and the dresser full of all she needed to change a wet child.

Wet nappy forgotten Alan went straight for the toys I’d left out on the floor and began to play with a Buzz Lightyear.

“OK Davey.... it looks like you’re first.”

I just stood there stunned. All this had happened so quickly I wasn’t prepared for anyone other than mum to know about... you know what. However, Aunt Jade was family and I suppose because of the christening she might already have realised that I’d wet my pants and just assumed I did it regularly. If that’s what she thought that was even worse.

“C’mon Davey let’s get those school shorts off you mustn’t leave a wet nappy on for too long otherwise you’ll develop a rash.”

Meanwhile, Alan was rummaging around in my toy box and pulling out all kinds of stuff. He even said how much he liked Bambi.

I removed my shirt and shorts and stood in front of aunty wearing just the very wet disposable held up by the colourful trainers.

“Well these are nice Davey, did you choose them?” She admired before pulling them down to my ankles and having me step out of them.

“Oh sweetie you’re very wet I don’t think this disposable is thick enough to last a day... I’ll let your mummy know.”

I was too embarrassed to speak.

She pulled at the side and the entire thing came away in a soggy mess as it fell to the carpet.

“Whoa, better not let that linger there for too long.” She smiled and quickly scooped it up and put it on a chair.

Meanwhile, Alan’s interest had been peaked and he came over, clutching one of my stuffed animals and to watch what was happening.

Aunty had already placed a towel for me to lie out on and had assembled all the stuff needed whilst I’d been reluctant to take my uniform off and expose the damage. She was as efficient as mum and quickly had me wiped, creamed and powdered.

All the way through she was chatting and asking me about my day at school, my favourite lesson and what I’d learned. I was so self-conscious I could only nod or smile when she did.

I’ve always got on with aunty, and uncle if it came to that, since dad was no longer with us, mum and her sister had become even closer. So I suppose she wasn’t going to keep a secret like me wetting again for too long. Anyway, that secret was out now and there was nothing I could do to put it back. To be honest, Aunt Jade was very caring in the way she cleaned me up and organised the change.

Something else, she wasn’t in the least bit thrown that she was replacing the very wet nappy of her eight year-old nephew. She didn’t try to shame me or even make kiddie noises (like mum had), just got on with what she had to do and didn’t make me feel it was anything but normal. I suppose because she was used to changing her own two kids I was just another who needed a clean dry nappy and that was all there was to it.

She took a few extra seconds to make sure she’d properly fitted the extra soak pad into the fabric nappy’s folds and then gently but firmly pinned me in.

“You know this isn’t the first time I’ve done this?” She giggled conspiratorially.  

I wasn’t sure what was coming next. She nudged my arm.

“When you were little your mum let me practice on you... you’ve always been a sweet natured boy... I don’t suppose you remember those times but... you were always a lovely little cherub and you haven’t changed a bit.”

Now I know I should have been anxious about references to when I was a baby but, in truth, she said it with such warmth I couldn’t help but smile and feel proud that’s how she thought of me.

“So... when I do a quick change on Florence or Alan... it’s because I got to be so good changing you.”

I wasn’t sure how that made me feel... good I suspect but I wasn’t sure?

“You mustn’t worry that now you’re older and having these little accidents... a nappy is just a different piece of underwear... and a really effective piece at that.” She smiled her most winning smile and I smiled back. “That’s why it has been, and still is, the most effective and popular way of dealing with such things.”

She shook her head from side to side in a sort of sing-song manner and softly said, as if to herself.

“No, you can’t go wrong with a nappy.”

It was the type of reassurance I needed. She made it sound that anyone and everyone who had a similar problem to me, no matter how old they were, would choose a nappy to deal with it. My mind went from my own padding to thinking about the many other people were walking the streets similarly wrapped and protected.

Her face beamed as she stretched over to the dresser.

There was a pair of see-thru plastic pants on the side which she flapped out, opened up and guided my legs into before rustling them up and over the thick nappy now in place.

“Do you wear shorts sweetie or are you OK as you are?”

Although slightly pre-occupied I looked down at the shiny bulk that now occupied the area where my thin but sodden disposable had been. The change was quite dramatic but I was dry and covered.

“Well, you can stay like that whilst I get Alan changed. Alan c’mon sweetie it’s your turn now your cousin’s all cosy and dry.”

She seemed to have Alan all done and dusted in seconds and like me he was wearing just a nappy and plastic pants (his were a shiny white), which didn’t bother him at all.

His mummy saw I was getting some toys ready for us both to play with. “So, you’re going to play up here for a while are you?”

I nodded.

“OK then, Davey you’re in charge... I’ll nip down and get you both a drink and I’ll be back in a few minutes OK?”

“Yes aunty.” There was no reply from Alan who was already engrossed in running a toy car over Bambi’s outline on my bed.


We’d been playing for five or ten minutes when Aunty Jade arrived back with a bottle for Alan and a glass of juice for me. Even in that short time we’d managed to have a Grand Prix with my Matchbox cars, flown to the far reaches of outer space with Buzz Lightyear and a fantastic looking Millennium Falcon and were exploring the idea of a battle between a couple of green plastic dinosaurs.

“Are you boys having fun?”

I think the noises we were making made it so we didn’t have to answer but from the smiles and grimaces on both our faces meant we needed to concentrate or be defeated. She left us to it.

For a couple of hours me and Alan played in my bedroom and must have had everything out of the toy-box because we couldn’t move for stuff. As soon as we got bored with one toy, and Alan seemed to lead the change, he’d grab another and off we’d go into a new game. It was amazing just how much I was enjoying myself and I ended up playing with toys I didn’t remember I had and which I hadn’t had out of the box for years. The whole experience made me realise how much I missed actually playing because it was something I rarely did with my school friends... well... like I was doing with Alan.

Eventually his mummy came up to join us clutching his shorts.

“Sorry sweetpea, we’ve got to get a move on to pick up your sister.”

“Ooorrrhh mummy, da I hav to... cant I sti?”

He looked up sweetly through his surprisingly thick eyelashes and if it had been me I would have given in to his request.

“I know sweetheart but, Alan here has things he needs to do for his mummy and we need to get Florence home in time for tea. You want some tea don’t you?”

He nodded and reluctantly got up and walked to his mum who’d opened up his shorts for him to step into. It hadn’t even registered with me that the both of us had spent all this time wearing just our nappies and plastic pants. Even though the evidence was right in front of my eyes, it simply hadn’t entered my head.

“Your mummy wants you too.” She nodded across at me.

“OK.” I went and grabbed a pair of shorts from the back of the chair and dragged them on.

It was then I noticed that my playmate’s nappy didn’t show under his shorts as much as mine did. His shorts completely covered his, although you could see the bulge. Whereas, my shorts had both nappy and plastic pants peeking out over the top, whilst the bulge was easily identifiable because of the smooth full shape it gave to the material. I needed mum to buy me some new clothes.


Once Aunty Jade and Alan had left mum organised fish fingers and chips for tea. Over our meal she was keen to know if I’d enjoyed my cousin’s visit and I told her how quickly time seemed fly by. She smiled and ruffled my hair and said how good it was to see her little Bambi having fun.


“Yes love... what is it?” She could tell I wanted to say something serious.

“Do you like me like this?” I looked down at my well-padded shorts.

“Oh sweetheart,” she said with a loving smile and an invite to go and sit on her lap. “I love my little love no matter what. At the moment I think this is something you want but... any time you don’t... just say.”

She was cuddling and trying to reassure me as she tapped my padded bottom.

“But why do... I mean... why would I want this?”

“I’m not sure sweetie... but tell me... do you not like wearing...” and she massaged the thick material, “this?”

I had to think because at first it was strange and terrifying to think a boy my age should wear a nappy but once it was on... I think I didn’t mind wearing it. I also remember the strange hot feeling I had when I gathered for the first time that I HAD wet myself and I couldn’t blame anybody else.

I told her about shivering and getting a hot flush a couple of times that made me feel odd. I tried to explain these feelings, which I didn’t understand. So, she cuddled me tightly mentioning that perhaps it was a physical or emotional response to what had happened. She couldn’t be sure but would look it up on the net next time she went online.

Meanwhile, I wasn’t so sure I understood any of that ‘emotional response’ but it made me think.

“Mum... er... mummy... am I alright to be... you know...?”

“Yes darling you are. I think the thick protection your nappy offers at this moment is something, and we don’t have to know exactly why, but I think it’s something you want... perhaps need.”

“But I’m eight...”

“Sweetheart, if you’re unhappy then we can change things but, whilst you’re wetting I think it’s only sensible to keep the nappy.”

I pondered on this and probably had to agree. I was wetting and pooing and it just wasn’t safe to change things around. Certainly at the time I’d been grateful she had me wear one... especially when I messed in it. Having said that I was unsure if I didn’t still partly blame her for all that had happened. I reluctantly smiled and nodded in agreement which got a huge return smile from her.

All this had filled my head as mum gently stroked my padded shorts and made me feel safe. I liked pleasing her and she didn’t mind all the padding and stuff that went with it. She certainly wasn’t trying to talk me out of it.

She pulled me closer and looked into my eyes.

“Tell me honestly sweetie... does any of this bother you?”

I tried to look away as I was embarrassed at what I knew the answer would be but she gently lifted my eyes back to meet hers.

“I’m worried what my friends might say.”

“Well, if that’s what’s bothering you we can keep this between ourselves if you want.”

“But what about school, when I have gym...”

“Well, on those days we’ll have to try and be a bit less obvious but... do any of your friends still wear cartoon underpants?”

I nodded.

“Well, yours are similar so... if they’re not bothered who sees their underwear... you shouldn’t be either. You are still a boy who enjoys boyish things... you don't need to worry about being a big boy because, whether you wear a nappy or not.... and whether you’re eight or eighteen... you’ll always be my special little guy.”

We snuggled tightly and I felt at ease though wondered about being eighteen. I also realised I was wetting my nappy at the same time.


Ten minutes of lying happily in her lap she asked if I needed a change. I nodded so we went upstairs to my room where she stripped me, cleaned everything up and suggested that I choose what I wanted to wear next. It was around 6pm and knew that the next nappy would be for night time protection but I didn’t want to have to make a decision.

“Mummy you choose.”

“OK sweetie.” She moved over to the dresser and picked up two thick cotton nappy squares and two soaker pads.

I didn’t say anything as she brought them to where I was laying out and started to slowly fold them to the correct shape. Once she had them ready she rubbed in some thick Vaseline all around my pee-pee and bum before dusting the area with a thick layer of talc. I kept wondering if she was going to say anything or if she was expecting me to comment but I stayed silent.

When she’d finished I was wearing the thickest nappy I’ve ever worn and although it was very comfortable to be lying down in I did wonder about standing up.

“How’s that sweetie?” Mum enquired.

I looked from this huge cushion I was now sporting back to mummy.

“Ermmm?” I didn’t know what to make of it.

“Not sure eh? Well, let’s try it out. Firstly, I think it makes you look like a lovely big teddy bear.” She giggled and ruffled my hair, which she was doing regularly. “And secondly, if you don’t like it this thick it’s easy enough to go back to just wearing one and a booster pad or two.”

She held out her hand and guided me from the bedroom and back downstairs into the living room. We went slowly, which was just as well because I found it very difficult to walk. I sat on the sofa in front of the TV and had to admit that once stationary, the bulk felt really nice hugging me tightly.

“I think sweetheart, seeing as you’re wetting quite a lot at night, I’ll keep you well-padded like this... is that OK with you?”

She went into the kitchen and returned with a small package and undid it. She flapped out a huge new pair of shiny white rubber pants and had me step into them. She shuffled them up my legs and made sure everything was safely tucked in.

“There, all ready for a good night’s sleep... and a bit thicker than your others so should hold any amount in.”

“But mum it’s early yet.” I panicked at the idea of going to bed at 6 o’clock. Oddly, I thought that mum had got me ready for bed, and in such thick insulation, that it meant she could insist I went to bed early.

She smoothed out the fabric under the glossy cover then stood back to appreciate her handiwork and winked as if we were sharing a secret.

“Oh sweetie, don’t worry, you’re ready now but you don’t have to go to bed until later. Just enjoy your programmes and I’ll get you a drink. Are you thirsty?”

I nodded and mum slipped back into the kitchen whilst I examined this new development.


This was a strange experience. Where ever I rested my hands they were rubbing against the glossy cover. I moved from sitting on the sofa and went to lie out on my tummy in front of the screen. I rested my head in my hands and wriggled around to get comfy. Mum came back with a drink in a bottle and patted my bloated bottom and asked me to get back up on the sofa. I wasn’t sure why she needed me back but I did as I was told and she made me cradle into the crook of her arm. Then I realised she was going to feed me a bottle. I wasn’t sure about this but once she’d pressed the rubber teat to my lips I took it in.

Although I started sucking immediately, and was rewarded with a spurt of lovely warm milk, I wasn’t sure I wanted to be babied like this. However, whatever resistance may have been in my head I’d soon finished the bottle with a loud burp.

“Who’s a good boy” Mummy smiled and patted my huge padded bottom. “Did you enjoy that sweetie?”

I wanted to say that I didn’t but that would have been a lie so I just nodded and snuggled up to mum even more.

“You’re such a sweet boy Davey...” and I could tell from her sigh that she was thinking of daddy and sad he was no longer around.

She turned the TV off and we hugged tightly whilst rocking me in her arms. We’ve done this on many occasions, although, as far as I could remember, never wearing such thick padding before. Relaxed in each other’s loving embrace we thought about life when daddy was with us. There was a lot of sighing and silent tears and even though it was upsetting, neither of us wanted to break our bond.

Before I knew it the minutes had simply flown by and it was 8 o’clock so time for bed.

I kissed mum and toddled upstairs. I was only wearing my protection but was so tired I couldn’t be bothered putting on my PJs. I crawled under the welcoming Bambi duvet, pulled teddy in with me and wriggled to get comfy in my warm bed. There were still tears in my eyes from thinking of mummy and daddy but Teddy was a good friend and his soft fur was nice and soothing where it touched my naked skin. Hugging each other for reassurance we slipped into our own dreamland.


I woke up at some point in the night on my tummy all warm and cosy and peeing into my thick nappy. I knew what I was doing but just didn’t want to move. The knowledge I’d just wet myself on purpose flittered through my mind for only a brief second before I wriggled in the vast soggy material and fell back to sleep. In the morning I discovered that wasn’t the only thing to greet the day in my protection.

Mummy came in and immediately assessed the situation.

“Ahh sweet-ums,” she beamed, “poopies as well as pee-pee hmmmm? I think it might be a good idea to keep you in thick nappies day and night from now on... don’t you?”

“Yes mummy.”

“OK then... let’s get my little boy all clean and tidy... and safe... for the rest of the day shall we?”

“Thank you mummy.”

## ## ##

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