Les Lea Posted March 31 Posted March 31 You know what you've done It’s the twelfth day and twelve-year-old Robbie still hadn’t acknowledged why he was back in nappies. ~~~~ He’d woken up on that first day of Summer Break hoping for an exciting time with all his mates only to be greeted by his father looking grim and holding a bundle of stuff in his hand. “Okay Robert,” his dad was not angry but never one to brook too much nonsense. Standing at six feet tall and having a fairly muscular physique from his job as a builder he looked most imposing. “School may be over but you’ve got a lot to learn so... it’s back into nappies for you. Go and get a shower and come straight back and I’ll see to you.” Robbie bristled at the idea, as if he’d let that happen. Besides, what could he have possibly done to be returned to wearing a nappy? It had to be a joke, right? Perhaps he was dreaming and had yet to wake up properly because this was just silly. However, why would he be dreaming of such a thing it...? He found his voice when he realised this wasn’t a dream at all. “But dad... WHY... I haven’t wet the bed or anything?” Robbie grinned but looked suspiciously at what was in his father’s hands. “Why don’t you think about the ‘why’ whilst having a shower, but don’t take too long.” Dad indicated for him to get up and get moving. “Dad this isn’t going to happen, I’m not a kid and you can’t make me... I’m not a bloody baby,” he added insolently. “Strike one, our little boy thinks he can swear with impunity...” Robbie had no idea what that word meant, “but he’s going to find that there are loads of things he thought... but thought wrong. Now, do as you’re told because this is going to be your underwear until we decide otherwise.” “I don’t think so...” The cocksure defiance was there but he was wondering... “There you go again, thinking and has been recently discovered... not your best feature Robbie. Because of all the things you’ve been up to over the past few months, thinking no one would get to know about, have come home to roost. Don’t think for a second you’re getting out of this because sonny, you aren’t.” The seriousness and directness of his dad’s words made him uncertain. Unsure of what a twelve-year-old could do but, and this is what mattered, he was twelve years old and therefore had... oh... but... There was also that guilt... what exactly was it they knew about that would bring about such a weird punishment? “Shower... now.” Dad pointed towards the bathroom. “But dad...” Robbie reluctantly did as he was told, easing his four feet six inch body from under the warm covers and then padding hesitantly to the bathroom in his creased t-shirt and boxers’ sensing it wasn’t the time to argue. Although slightly smaller than the others he was confident - he was after all in the school’s first eleven football team, and more recently mixing with his new tough friends, thought himself a toughie. However, when called out like this his swagger and self-confidence dropped. He needed more information and time to corral his excuses and arguments. ~ All through showering he wondered what dad knew he’d done. His grades weren’t too bad, granted there was always room for improvement. Although the Headmaster’s final comments on his end of term report card said that he ‘...didn’t try and easily distracted. A noticeable decline in ability and respect’ also didn’t help. He couldn’t remember being rude or cheeky to his parents but of course such occasions are done without much thought. He and his mates hadn’t been caught doing anything that might be regarded as foolish or criminal (although that hadn’t stopped them from doing such stuff). Mind you, he didn’t want a complete investigation into what he and those mates had been up to, that would open a huge can of worms. Then there was one ‘biggie’ which he knew they better not know about otherwise his life would be ruined - and he wasn’t sure if that was an over or understatement. Was there a difference between being cheeky and downright disrespectful? To a lad his age it was all part of growing up and having opinions, attitude and actions that might not correspond to what others might agree as normal. He wasn’t that bothered what anyone else thought... only himself... and his mate’s. The ‘biggie’ was BIG and it weighed heavily now his parent’s said they knew what he’d been up to. His mates had said that no one would ever know so it was just between them but still, as he showered, the guilt cut through his body like a cold, cold knife. ~ Recently at school he’d been hanging around with a little gang who were dangerously close to being young hoodlums and whom he was desperate to impress. He’d somehow found himself in with this particular ‘in’ crowd with ‘attitude’ and liked the infamy by association that went with it. He adopted quite a bit of their style – the way they dressed, the way they spoke, the off-handedness in any conversation. They were lippy, disrespectful, rebellious and took anything not nailed down (and a few things that were). He didn’t come from their rough, tough background so had a lot to prove to fit in. So far, he thought he had but now his parents had pulled him up, he wasn’t so certain it had been that good a move. Although in their company Robbie saw himself as a rebel, and someone who thought for himself, the hardened, uncaring streak that his new mates possessed really wasn’t part of his character. In fact, despite his attempts at ‘fitting in’ with his new ‘friends’, it was safe to say that none of what they’d done sat easily on his conscience so more or less knew that eventually he’d be brought to book. But what specifically was it his dad knew and what was it that made him think in terms of ‘nappies’ as a penalty? Under the warm plumes of water, he chuntered to himself on how he would never wear a nappy, nor would he let his father fulfil his threat. Despite his absolute intention of not giving in he felt an unease creep into his head -something he’d never felt before. Well, it had but his mates told him to “...forget it ever happened” but it was a hard secret to keep. That secret, that thing, only he and ‘the gang’ knew about and which they’d laughed off as “...a great stunt” was hanging heavily but he dare not confess to it... ever. He was at a loss to know why his father would want to impose such a juvenile punishment – one that had been threatened but never pursued before. Well, not exactly being put back into nappies but not able to go anywhere, have an early curfew or allowance stopped. All these penalties had been threatened in the past but never applied. So why now AND what had caused this dramatic shift that his dad intended to carry it out? What the HELL did dad know? Well, he decided, whatever he knew, or thought he knew, he wasn’t going to wear a nappy and there was nothing dad could do to make him. Of that he was certain. ~ Returning from the bathroom drying himself but confused as to why there was so much stuff spread out on his bed and why had his t-shirt and shorts he’d just slept in disappeared whilst he took the shower? Not only that but the very serious look on his father’s face indicated that any further argument could well be a huge mistake. Still, he’d decided, he certainly wasn’t going to wear a nappy and that was final. After all he was twelve, and twelve year-olds don’t wear nappies. He may be a little smaller than some his age but on the football pitch he was a little terrier and one of the best players. He was fairly good-looking (or so his mum thought) with longish brown hair and brown eyes. Despite his veneer of confidence he approached his father with more than a little trepidation. He noticed the thick fabric squares (more than one) which was a bit scary, the clear plastic pants like those he remembered his toddler cousin used to wear when visiting (he didn’t remember the days as a child he also used to wear them). Additionally, arranged on his dresser were a large canister of baby powder and several tubs of ointment. This was not looking like a simple threat, but he was adamant - no nappies. “Dad, what is it I’m supposed to have done?” He implored as innocently as possible, though dreading his father knowing some of the things he (and his mates) had been up to. “‘Supposed to have done’ ah! Acting innocent, eh? Well, that won’t work.” His dad fluffed out one of the large squares of white fabric and began to fold it. “Dad this isn’t fair, if I don’t know what I’ve done I can’t...” “Oh Robbie, Robbie, Robbie... I think you know only too well why this is happening and you’ve no one but yourself to blame.” Robbie mentally tallied some of those things and then physically shivered at the more ‘suspect’ offences, wondering if those were also what his father now knew about. However, he figured, if he knew about all of them, and the big one, he doubted if having to wear a nappy for a couple of days would be his punishment it would be much worse. Not knowing was making him less sure and put him at a huge disadvantage. He began to feel vulnerable, especially as his dad was looking more and more determined. “Dad this isn’t fair,” he was being as firm as he could, “I’m too old to wear a nappy and I’m not going to.” At least he was confident about that. “Really,” his dad looked a bit more than pissed off at his son’s denial, “well we can visit other, more embarrassing, public punishments if you wish. I don’t think you’ll like them, and, in the end, you’d still end up wearing a nappy... but if you insist.” The nappy was now folded, and his father indicated for him to lie out. “It’s up to you Robert, last chance, this now or something less easy, well for you anyway...” He’d never felt intimidated by his father before but there was something in his attitude that implied ‘mess with me at your peril’. He tried to ignore it but the thing was... a guilty conscience (in fact a very guilty conscience) was getting the better of Robbie - he was uncertain. He knew he should be making a huge scene and storming off or swearing like his mates and demanding the independence any twelve-year-old deserved and to stop being treated as a child. But he was caught off-guard - what might be ‘less easy?’ but when he thought about it, he and the gang had done some terrible stuff. The threat got the boy’s attention. His mind was full of appalling possibilities. He’d heard that some of his new friend’s parents weren’t afraid to take a belt to their wayward offspring and the idea of having a fiercely whipped arse had no appeal whatsoever. He dreaded pain, the few times growing up he’d been physically hurt made sure he stayed away from any confrontation where violence might happen. Even being in the gang he always maintained a distance between them and him... just in case. However, his mind conjured up a terrible situation. THWACK! (it was as if he could feel it) on his vulnerable bottom scared the hell out of him, not that his parents had ever said they’d do such a thing BUT, as his father was hinting, there’d be worse – public punishments - so that possibility flitted into his head and fuelled his worst case scenario. Some of the gang had intimated that physical punishment was almost a daily occurrence in their household and no amount of anti-smacking laws would change their parent’s attitude to discipline, even if it didn’t work. One lad had told him quite openly that his father had taken the belt to him after a visit from the police and he had to sit painfully at the dinner table on a hard chair as the family ate their meal. He’d shrugged when his mates told him what his dad had done was illegal, his reply, so was what he’d done so...? ~ Thoughts of rebellion, of simply refusing, of acting out and not giving a damn rippled through his mind. He was twelve and, as he kept saying to himself, twelve-year-old's do NOT wear nappies or get put in them either. This hadn’t happened to any of his friends, so he was certain it wasn’t going to happen to him. But a chilling other thought entered his head – what if it happened to his mates all the time, except, he didn’t know about it? ‘THWACK’ that thought triggered a fear he didn’t know he had. A catalogue of harsh and terrible punishments filled his brain and made him shudder in indecision. How could he rebel or even argue if that kind of violence was delivered to his bare bottom. What if, once delivered it became a regular event? What if...? However, he was sure if any of his mates had suffered from any embarrassing punishments he’d know about it. BUT, what if, they were so ashamed it was something no one ever talked about? Being strapped was something you could talk about but being forced to wear a nappy, well, that was just too weird and embarrassing. What if there were loads of kids, teenage kids, being made to wear some form of padding as an alternative to receiving a beating and it was simply something that no one ever spoke about? It was as if some strange influence had got into his head and all he could mentally experience was the pain that people were inflicting on him. In his imagination it wasn’t just his parents, in fact they were not to be seen, but stranger after stranger piling in and walloping him for having done what he’d done. Aarrggg, it was all too much. Robbie needed to get rid of these scary thoughts, but how? ~ His recent truculent nature was suddenly suffering from uncertainty and for the first time in quite some time Robbie was at a loss of what to do. He knew he should be making a scene, denying everything, call his parent’s names and swear the house down, except he didn’t, he was conflicted. The part that knew he’d done wrong, even if he wasn’t sure which ‘wrong’ they knew about - was edging over the part demanding he fight back. Basically, he was a good boy gone rogue, but now he was held to account, the roguish element was undeniably slipping away. What if... yes, again, what if...? The idea that there was a secret world of punishment going on where everyone involved was so ashamed of mentioning it - it had become THE way of dealing with disrespectful, out-of-control and threatening youths. Although this thought didn’t make much sense it was now imbedded in his brain and had somehow settled as an actual punishment that happened, and worse still, happen to him. Psychologically he could see the swish of the belt through the air and the sickening ‘THWACK’ as it met its target. He could hear his screams; he could feel his pain - he definitely didn’t want that to happen to him. But would a nappy be better than the strap? Would it be more effective than actual physical punishment? He was sure no kid his age would admit to such a thing... thus ensuring the secret would remain just that... a secret. He trembled at the thought, the revolt, was this something he’d be able to rebel against? His parents were ‘nice’ people, surely, they wouldn’t want to embarrass him but still, if they not only insisted but the penalties for not doing so were worse, would it then be the secret all threatened teens kept... including him? SWISH, THWACK - “Ooooowwwww” His desperate cry of sudden and direct pain may have been bouncing about in his head, but the reality now seemed an option. He was nervously sweating - not just at this possibility but the ensuing probability. ~ Robert stood there thinking just what he had done and dad knew about that he could apologise for and escape this ridiculous childish sentence. For the first time ever he felt intimidated by his father. He was in comparison quite small for his age but until that moment had never thought about it. However, at that moment, he felt tiny and timid. He tried to continue to dry himself to delay whatever was about to happen. Try as he might he couldn’t think of anything, well anything he would openly confess to. There was ‘cheeking’ Mrs Oldershaw. There was a chance he knew about bunking off the last couple of periods at school but thought that wasn’t much of a crime. His part in a bit of schoolboy bullying, which didn’t sit well with him but nonetheless he’d been there. Then of course it was possible that the incident in the shop in town might have reached dad’s ears. That was where he and his mates wandered in and whilst the cashier was kept busy, he and a chum helped themselves to various snacks and booze (and this hadn’t been the first time or the first shop to receive the gang’s attention). However, he’d never admit to that, unless they had CCTV and could prove it. When he thought about it there were quite a number of ‘little’ things that his father could be angry about but until he had a better idea perhaps wearing a nappy for a day or two might be the easiest way out of whatever trouble he was in. The main thing was, as long as they didn’t know about his serious ‘crime’, which he hoped to take to the grave, then all might just be forgotten. He suddenly decided it was a no-brainer, if he was going to be punished harshly AND still end up wearing a nappy, then he might as well jump straight to that and avoid any painful attention. “Okay,” seeing this as a possible way out he reluctantly agreed. “Very sensible, now, let’s get these on you,” he held up the white fabric triangle, “and then the... hmmmm... on second thoughts... Claire... can you come in here please?” “Yes dear,” his wife appeared at the bedroom door carrying what looked like a supply of new towels. Robbie was confused as to why mum would be just hanging around his bedroom like that. “Do I need to put extra padding in?” Dad looked a little confused at the extra items that were next to the fabric squares on the bed. “Of course love, but don’t forget the barrier cream first, make it thick and sure it’s spread everywhere, we don’t want our Robbie to get a rash now do we?” She smiled benevolently at her son. “Yes, well I had that covered...” her hubby said a bit annoyed because he hadn’t asked for that instruction. Robbie lay there, towel in hand and all but naked wondering why they were arguing over this but of course they weren’t. This was more ‘theatre’ for his benefit. They were making sure he knew this was a huge deal that they were taking seriously. So, although he was being punished for his misdemeanours, they were still going to take good care of him. Mum busied herself clearing out his underwear drawer, bagging up underpants, boxers and trunks and replacing those items with this fresh ‘laundry’. She then dug deep into another bag and pushed unopened packs of plastic pants in beside the pile of new fleecy terry nappies. Finally, she pulled nappy pins from her pocket and left them in a little dish next to the baby powder. Her boy was going to be well-cared for, the pins had white plastic ducky safety covers. She then looked on in a supervisory capacity as hubby started the nappying process. Meanwhile, a nervous and confused Robbie turned beet red under scrutiny from both parents. It was scary that they seemed to think this was perfectly acceptable behaviour. “You’ll need to use a booster pad and nappy liner before you pin it all together, it will make cleaning him up after any little accidents that much easier.” Claire added as she passed her hubby the items and a couple of safety pins. “WHAT?” Robbie all but screamed and clamping a hand over his naked genitals. “What, what?” his dad replied as he smacked his hand away, whilst inserting the things his wife had just suggested and pulling the multi-layered fabric up between the boy’s legs. “I’m not going to shit in a nappy... I... errrrr....” His dad gave him a second quick slap to his naked thigh “Language Robert, I’ll not tell you again.” Although the slaps didn’t hurt there seemed to be a warning that had to be taken seriously. Was this just the start of a much more violent regime? It scared him to think that might be the case. However, the material felt really thick as it was pulled up and left him unsure if he’d be able to cope with such an item wrapped around his genitals. Despite a half-hearted struggle dad pinned the thick, soft fabric tightly around his son’s wriggling waist. “Dad please,” he begged, “I can’t be seen wearing a nappy I’m a grown...” “Of course, you can sweetheart” Mum intervened as she saw the first tears begin to form in the corner of his eyes. “You’ll be wearing one from now on or until we see a huge improvement in your behaviour and an actual understanding of what you’ve been up to... and more especially... why we think this is necessary.” Her smile was benign but firm as she admired her hubby’s work. Her voice was soothing even if the message was chilling. Meanwhile, she flapped out a pair of smooth, clear plastic pants. ~ Mr and Mrs Davison had decided that their only son Robert (Robbie) was at an age where hormones and attitude kick in. They knew he was becoming, well, a teenager, but there’d been a very noticeable deterioration in his behaviour both at home and in school for almost a year. They knew he was part of a group that had been ‘disruptive’ in class and no doubt had been equally annoying at all other times. They suspected he’d been up to all manner of stupid, possibly illicit and undoubtedly antisocial activities... even if they didn’t know exactly what all of them were. Twelve years old and at that age, when a firm hand can be easily swatted away, where a parent’s authority has begun to diminish greatly and a time where his friends and what they say (and incite) matter more than anything else, meant something needed to be done. It is most parents worry that their offspring might go down a road of wrong choices: criminal, anti-social or any manner of other unacceptable activities. Thomas and Claire Davison were determined that if they got in first, made him guilty about what he thought they might know, then they stood a chance of keeping their son as they wanted him. “Keep him guessing,” that had been the idea, to not agree or disclose exactly what it was they knew. That way, and hoping they knew their son, he’d be on the defensive, anxious and, they hoped, so unsettled that he would comply, albeit reluctantly, to their decisions. Up until relatively recently Robert had always been a good boy, not perfect, but good. However, reports from school, neighbours and homelife (attitude) had seen a complete turnabout that had made him become – unpleasant. This was a side that Claire in particular didn’t want to see develop, so, with the agreement of hubby, set about coming up with something that would change him back to the likeable little scamp he used to be. Of course, they ran the risk that whatever they said or did might rebound but thought, for the sake of their only son, they had to try. Although they’d planned their action, it was still an ad hoc situation as they didn’t know what reaction they’d get. They had no idea that the spontaneous threat of ‘something worse’ had already had such an effect so he was at present cowed and scared of speaking up too much. As their action continued Robert’s worry about this warning and what he had done became a bonus (although they were unaware of it), to keep him where they wanted him - nervous of terrible (but undisclosed) retribution. Once the course of action was decided, they hoped that guilt, terror of discovery and an agenda where all choices were made for him (but in a caring, loving way) made his involvement unequivocal. Any time he questioned them about why they were doing this they simply put it back to him that he knew why and until he recognised and admitted his own complicity in this punishment then the penalty would continue. This was infuriating for him because he had no idea exactly what it all meant apart from the fact, he would be wearing a nappy for a while. How or why taking him back to wearing a nappy had come up in discussions neither was sure. Maybe Claire had read an article about kids not acting their age and this had been deemed a suitable punishment. However, even if she hadn’t read about such a reaction, she fondly remembered those happy nappy times when he was a toddler, that idea stuck so thought it worth a try. They also believed that by being supportive of his nappy wearing, just as they were when a child, and praising him each time he used it, they could convince him it was less of a punishment and simply a reminder. ~ Mastigophobia: irrational fear of punishment. No one knew the word, no one knew where this sensible phobia had come from, but it had taken up residency in Robbie’s subconscious. The nappy, though appalling for a lad his age, was at least bearable... well maybe. ~ tbc ~ 9 2
Tasa Posted March 31 Posted March 31 I guess inicent until proven guilty isnt a thing in this family... A well he is guilty so he probably does deserve it, but they dont seem to know that, or even what he did wrong. Anyways nice start to a new story 1
Les Lea Posted April 1 Author Posted April 1 Hi Tasa They know he's guilty but not of what... and it's the guilt Robbie feels that's going to guide what happens next. Thanks for your comment Hugs Les
CDfm Posted April 1 Posted April 1 Great start. I am definitely curious to know what the horrible thing Robbie did was. There are punishments that are probably worse than the diapers but I would die if my friends found out about it. I have guilted my own kids more than once doing pretty much the same thing. I am looking forward to seeing more of the story. 1
maly Posted April 1 Posted April 1 This reminds me of my grandad, i didn't see him that often but when i did he would always give me a slap on the bum, when i asked why he said " you are a young boy you have either been naughty or you are about to be naughty". Maly. 1
Les Lea Posted April 2 Author Posted April 2 Hi Guys I hope this story resonates with a few people. I always remember that my parents often said they knew what I'd done when I was sure no one did. They often did. However, they never put me back in nappies to make their point but here we have a very extreme circumstance and extreme parents who have their own ideas about what needs to happen. Nappies! Robbie needs to learn that although he's twelve, he's still a child and under mum and dad's complete care. Meanwhile, thanks for the positive encouragement. Hugs to you all Les 4
Parkin Posted April 2 Posted April 2 That's actually a pretty cruel and abusive behavior from his parents if you think about it. Also people will probably see this and he will be humiliated. I know it's a story and I don't want you not to write it that way. But I think it's a bit odd to talk about it like a normal education method the parents aren't being completely out of their mind. 😆 1 2
Les Lea Posted April 3 Author Posted April 3 Some say discipline Others - guidance Some say control Others - guidance Some say abuse Others - guidance Claire and Thomas are offering guidance as they see it... of course... they could be wrong. As you will see if you stick with it... attitudes change. Hugs and thanks to all my readers. Les 3
Les Lea Posted April 5 Author Posted April 5 Part 2 “STOP, STOP pleeeaaassseee just stop.” Robbie begged. “Mum, dad, tell me what I’ve done... I... I...” It was a strange juxtaposition – their boy now firmly wrapped in a nappy and nothing else, trying to be grown up... visually at least didn’t work. “Oh sweetheart,” his mum took over feeding his kicking legs into the smooth see-thru plastic fabric. “These will contain everything so our little boy doesn’t make a mess anywhere he shouldn’t AND if he wants all this to end, he knows just what he needs to do.” “I’m not a baby,” he said firmly but it lacked conviction, especially as the thick cotton fabric was now being engulfed by plastic pants. He wriggled, complained, swore but the bottom line was, he was afraid of what might happen. That limited his more aggressive nature (or one he adopted for his mates) and his mother accomplished the final snap of the waistband that held it all in place. “There you go sweetheart,” his mum chuckled, whilst his father once again gave the ‘don’t mess with me’ look, “all nicely wrapped up and ready to greet the day.” It was an instant transformation – one minute a lively pre-teen, the next, a timid, four and half feet worried looking pre-schooler. Mastigophobia: that irrational fear of punishment wasn’t a word any of the family knew. However, there was little doubt that now it was the main mental image that was going to control a lot of what Robbie thought. Of course he wasn’t immune to pain – playing football he’d been in many a rough tackle and rugby, well, he’d arrived home with several bashes and bruises and on occasions blood trickling from various wounds. Those injuries didn’t worry him but he’d avoided unnecessary pain and his family had never subjected him to any form of physical punishment. The problem he had now, especially as it had taken over his imagination, was how easy the gang had spoken about the fights they’d had with brothers and sisters that ended in bruises and blood, or the times they were beaten black and blue by an overzealous parent with whatever means came to hand (punches, spankings, beatings, canes, straps - the list seemed endless as what had been used on these other twelve year olds). These often ‘proud’ descriptions had Robbie inwardly quaking with fear though tried his best to hide it. However, this inner weakness had led to ‘the stunt’ that now hung like a noose around his neck and the guilt of which lived in his head full time. The thought, and certainly the punishment, he knew he was due for such an offence would be intense and saw its delivery only in the same way the gang received punishment – hard, physical and severe. He knew he wouldn’t be able to take that, especially the intensity that this ‘crime’ would surely produce. In his head it amounted to a constant round of his naked bum receiving a fiercely wielded strap almost nonstop. He knew he wouldn’t survive such punishment so saw avoidance as the only answer. Whilst he sulked his mum and dad busied themselves getting him ready - faffing around making sure everything was as it should be for their boy. The plastic pants had a glossiness and tightness that made the fabric underneath gleam. Claire had taken special care and researched her part well to ensure that everything would fit nicely and the robust but pliable clear plastic pants simply looked adorable on their almost teenage son. Their words and actions around him were loving, if a little childish; simple words for simple actions, as if they were talking to some adolescent unsure of himself. Now wrapped up in a nappy Robbie was indeed unsure where to go, what to say or what to do to be rid of it all. There were tears in his eyes as well as a look of absolute despondency – this isn’t the way it’s supposed to be. For Robbie the recognition this is indeed how it was going to be began to hit home. It had all happened so quickly; one minute he definitely wasn’t going to wear a nappy and the next… well… he was wearing one now. It felt strange… it was soft but… “Mum, dad I’m sorry for, whatever it is I’ve done but please don’t make me wear all this, what will my friends say?” Now he was pleading and appealing to their sense of fair play. “Well love, you could tell them you’re being disciplined and then list the reasons. I’m afraid playing dumb no longer works. Your father and I, and to a certain extent many others,” she purposely sounded vague, “have put up with your nonsense for too long so now it’s up to you to change our minds.” She paused for it to sink in and then added. “Also, just so you know, if anyone does ask and you tell a lie, or pretend you aren’t wearing a nappy, then the penalty will increase. We simply will not put up with you lying to anybody anymore, so, think on!” She looked to see if her words had sunk in and saw his face grimace in confusion. However, he took some salvation from the fact he hadn’t lied about what he’d done, he’d just never mentioned it - thank God. ~ Robbie was desperate to argue, to complain, to admit to anything, if only they’d tell him what they knew about, but the rules seemed to be getting worse. It was so belittling and confusing but the more he thought about it the scarier it was becoming. He didn’t want to admit to anything, there was so much and certainly some things he never wanted to talk about. So, who knew where all this would end if he didn’t tow-the-line... and WHY a nappy? On the spur of the moment Claire added something else for him to think about. “For the moment this padding is just between the three of us.” She rubbed the substantial cushion. “I think it suits you and I know you’re going to... well... perhaps not love it but maybe appreciate why you’re having to wear it. However, as we say, if you tell lies if anyone asks, or you start getting lippy, then this secret will no longer be secure. So, anyone and everyone could get to know about your new underwear. Do I make myself clear?” How much of what she said sunk in she didn’t know because he was sobbing pretty heavily. Despite that she insisted he acknowledged what he’d been told and through the tears begrudgingly nodded a response. Perhaps strangest of all was that Claire and Thomas hadn’t yet thought of where this punishment might go or what they anticipated would be the final outcome. Now they had him wearing a nappy they just felt their only son needed that reminder he was still a child and their responsibility and simply needed to know that his behaviour had consequences - and this was one of them. So, Thomas went to work at the building firm and Claire worked from home doing the occasional freelance work that added to the family finances. They weren’t a rich family, managing fairly well but not rolling in blissful monetary excess, although that could change soon but things weren’t certain. However, they put Robbie as a priority over everything else. So, what they were doing and as a result his new needs were seen as paramount if they wanted this to be a success. ~ Claire had convinced Thomas that this punishment needed to be taken and, because of the sickening reputation Robbie was amassing for himself (plus the headmaster’s report), he’d unequivocally agreed with his wife’s decision. She had all the supplies ready before any action was taken because quite simply, she wanted her little boy back and away from the corrupting hooligans he hung around with. They knew that just banning him from seeing them wouldn’t work, they needed to make it so he’d be reluctant to see them. An embarrassing amount of childish padding seemed a good way of doing just that. Claire and Thomas had no idea the huge secret their son was keeping, all they were sure about was that he and his mates had been making mischief and not at a Halloween level. The reputation of the gang was the talk of the neighbourhood, so the fact that Robbie was regarded as part of the trouble meant, as far as they were concerned, something significant had to be done. They just wanted to get it sorted and now the long school summer holiday was underway this was what came to mind. She kept telling herself that by making him wear a nappy she could get him back. The plan had been to start as soon as he was no longer under the influence of his ‘gang’. So, from the first day of the Summer Break he was to be guilt-tripped into the new nappy regime. After that, they had a couple of weeks to get him used to his new underwear and accept them before the holiday she hoped would cement their tender control and trusted by then he’d be back to his loving ways. She’d convinced herself that the weight and structure of his padding would rein in his current excesses, make him constantly aware of his situation. When she saw just how adorable he looked with that cute little bulge and the smoothness of his plastic pants adding to the picture - something else clicked. In fact, the more she saw him looking so endearing (and vulnerable) the more she wanted to baby him. Although, to begin with that wasn’t the primary concern she couldn’t deny that now he looked the part of the sweet, innocent little lad like he used to be, why not have that youngster again? Many new and interesting possibilities flittered through Claire’s mind as she pondered just what these might entail. ~ For most of the twelve years of his life his parents had encouraged Robbie to grow up and be himself. Near the cusp of becoming a teenager had made him more independent in thought and deed but, as he was finding out, some of the effects of that weren’t necessarily a good thing. The last twelve months or so, since he became part of the ‘gang’, had seen a horrible difference in his overall attitude. However, he was now made to realise that his autonomy was really just an illusion as he still relied on mum and dad to provide for him. This obvious fact had never really occurred to him before – things like, money, food, clothing, a roof over his head, even holidays, those things had always been there and available and taken for granted. However, now they’d decided he should wear a nappy that’s exactly what he was dressed in. He had no idea how he could change this without losing so much of what they obviously provided? He had thoughts of running away, but where to? Thoughts of hitting out but the worry of getting the strap meant that was a non-starter. He wasn’t a coward (although in truth far more delicate than he wanted to appear) though without the gang to coax him into doing the things he’d done; he certainly would never have done them under his own volition. Despite being in a gang, the idea of physical hurt and fighting had never appealed to him. He had thoughts of screaming the place down and creating a vile atmosphere. All the anger at that moment was useless because he felt himself begin to fill up emotionally. There was so much going on in his head and tugging at his conscience – fear, guilt, sorrow - it was difficult to take any real action on any of it. He had rapidly discovered that any independence had just been fantasy. He was, to all intents and purposes, impotent and unexpectedly realised just how much he did depend on mum and dad. The knock to his self-esteem, coupled with these new feelings of emotional anxiety, were overpowering (mum and dad had delivered a direct hit with this psychological blow). The lad, who just moments ago had woken up a happy twelve-year-old was now wearing a nappy and feeling, as well as looking, like a toddler. He felt his grown-up status had been completely removed and, like a little kid, was helpless to change anything his parents decided. From being strong and independent (or so he thought) he was now at their mercy. He didn’t like any of it but there was no denying that at that moment he was wearing a relatively thick white cotton nappy with rather childish ducky pins holding it all together, plus plastic pants and felt miserable. As dad checked the new underwear fitted correctly, Robbie’s fretful mind desperately hoped for a reprieve. Despite being positive it would never happen, he now found himself wearing a nappy and, with each part of the fitting completed, discovered any resolve diminishing. He certainly didn’t want to feel that worrying strap and had convinced himself that was the only other alternative available to them. THWACK! Yes, that thought of physical punishment was quite terrifying. As if to add fuel to his already dejected state, tears were pouring down his face... and he couldn’t stop them. ~ Who could he tell? His mates would ridicule him and kick him out of the gang. Aunties and uncles would probably take his parent’s side, and doubted if any neighbours would take pity, he’d been quite obnoxious to many of them in recent months. No, he could only appeal to mum and dad, though it was like they weren’t prepared to succumb to any of his pleas. “But I don’t know what I’ve done.” Robbie was in full meltdown, powerless and crying, begging and having a tantrum all at the same time. He wasn’t sure if he should confess to all his sins but what specifically was he being punished for? He had no idea and didn’t want to implicate himself (or any of his mates) in something they didn’t know about in case it made things worse. He was in a quandary because he knew that confessing would indeed only make it worse. With this - what, why, how, when? - his mind was full of worry and speculation. So, whilst mother patted the pillow of air from his plastic pants and levelled everything out she indicated for him to get dressed. This was ridiculous. He was twelve and naked apart from a thick piece of fleecy material and pair of plastic pants. He stared at his reflection - the overall effect was weird because his new juvenile underwear fitted him so well. The plastic smoothed his fabric nappy and although it could be seen, especially the little ducky ends to the safety pins, it hugged him in a comforting manner. His reflection told the story – he was a padded toddler and was probably going to be treated as such. The plastic cover’s thick cuffs at the leg holes and waistband were soft but sturdy and as his mum ran her finger around them, he could feel just how supple the new material was as it slipped and gripped against his skin. He was confused but thought that it was all madness, and he wasn’t going to stand for it; the padding was coming off straight away. It was as if his thoughts were being read. “If you tamper with any of this, or it’s removed without our say so, well, you think you’re in big trouble now, you’ll soon see this is the least of what will happen.” Dad threatened once again, and this brought an absolute torrent of tears and a spurt of anxiety-induced pee into the newly applied nappy. He had to avoid any form of pain for his own preservation. In his mind he was convinced that he wouldn’t be able to withstand any prolonged beating with ‘the strap’ and he’d confess to everything (even his most secret of secrets) if subjected to such intense discipline. ‘THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!’ The possibility looked even closer than before but he had to keep that secret. ~ Robbie was in a dilemma, the fear of the possible physical hurt, set against the actual emotional reality, was producing a strange mix of concerns and indecision. Reluctantly he was now wearing a nappy and although as upsetting as the experience was, it certainly wasn’t as bad as getting a cruel beating. However, it was also not something any twelve-year-old would want to admit to. His parents had been pretty sure this was what was going to happen and so it had proved. His absolute determination for it not to happen hadn’t worked and he felt totally helpless. Claire and Thomas were adamant that having their son wear a nappy would make him realise that he was still only a child. The constant hug of his padding (the result of which was the adoption of a cute little waddle) would, they hoped, make him acknowledge this simple fact. There was absolutely no doubt that Claire had thought about this for a lot longer than her husband because she had chosen the items carefully and they fit perfectly. She couldn’t have been happier. Seeing her pre-teen son in a lovely white fleecy nappy, just seemed right and for some reason yearned he’d feel the same way. Even so, the pre-teen’s tears were real and although it pained both parents to see him in such a state, they were striving for a specific outcome. So, a few tears, whether self-serving or otherwise, had to be met with love but an understanding that they were in charge. After all, the hard bit was over, they had got their wayward son back into a nappy, so now it was just sheer willpower on their part to keep him that way. ~ Robbie was conflicted, which left him wondering where he stood. His parents had laid down the law as to what he would be wearing from then on and this had all happened despite him being resolute it never would. The shock to his system and self-image left him uncertain yet all he could feel was the thick padding that now wrapped itself around his hips. So, no matter how upset or strange the situation was, this was the way it was going to be - he shuddered at the prospect - how was he going to cope with this new weird and embarrassing weighty underwear? Although this was an awful situation and he wasn’t thinking straight, he tried to reason it as just a temporary form of discipline and that, after a couple of days, it would be over, and things could return to normal. The thick cushion between his legs was strange, if not totally weird, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Thinking in these terms meant he could at least feel a little better about his circumstances but still… it was incredibly humiliating. Claire ran her hand through her son’s hair. “Sweetheart, get some clothes on as breakfast will be on the table in few minutes.” “I’m not hungry,” he mumbled and threw himself down onto his bed sobbing into the pillow yet trying to hide the tears. His smooth, shiny, bulky, plastic bum was shaking with uncontrollable emotion, which only made him appear more vulnerable and childish. Perhaps oddly, although the view was what they had hoped for, both mum and dad felt sorry for him. Still, dad needed to assert his authority, “This isn’t a polite request... MOVE... you don’t get to make any decisions.” He was not going to put up with a sulky or belligerent child. “The sooner you get your act together and realise who is in charge, the better.” As he lay there bitter but impotent, the poor lad resented his circumstances and didn’t want to comply but there was something in his father’s posture and tone that he’d never noted before – a severity that wasn’t going to be toyed with. It was intimidation he’d previously never experienced and it was quite unnerving. ‘THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!’ was all he could imagine and that brought another burst of teary emotion. However, as their son’s head was buried in a pillow both couldn’t help but smile an acknowledgement to each other because Robbie was suitably nappied. His slim frame, near hairless body and soft features made it so the fabric hugged him well, and perhaps oddly for a boy his age, didn’t seem inappropriate. The material was thick enough to give his bottom the babyish padded curve that looked so delightful, whilst the soft rustle of the plastic pants as his body heaved trying to contain his feelings added to their conviction that this, under the circumstances, was the correct move. Claire took out her phone and silently clicked away at the scene, she hoped it would be the first of many shots, as she documented their attempt to pull their son back from, as they saw it, the precipice. They didn’t want to hurt their son with physical punishment (indeed it had been a psychological threat but no more), and although some might say that mental cruelty was worse, they didn’t agree with that assessment - challenging anyone to make the decision – a vicious spanking or wearing a nappy? Their son looked the part of a sweet boy who needed, and was getting, a new perspective to his life from doting but determined parents. ~ Improbably, the sheer number of tears and pent-up emotion had had an effect. The outpouring had made Robbie feel helpless and had taken him back to a time when crying produced instant love and attention from both parents. They always tried to comfort him with hugs, kisses and sweet-talk and now, despite himself, he felt like a little kid and wanted that support. The fact that he was getting that attention in spades added yet another dimension to his unease. As his parents eventually left him to think about his circumstances - the weight of the nappy, the smoothness and subtle noise of his plastic pants as he moved brought home just what he’d become. It was still quite a shock to see himself dressed in such a way, but it was done now, so fighting it and getting the situation changed was going to be a lot trickier. However, now he’d calmed down slightly he wasn’t stupid enough to disobey his father on this occasion; he’d done that so often recently. Ahh! and then a ‘ping’ went off in Robbie’s head, maybe that’s why he was being punished - for not doing as he was told, answering back and generally being uncooperative. If this is what had happened to get him into this state, he thought, perhaps now would be a daft time to test that theory. After all, although a terrible situation to be in, he was convinced this was only going to be a fleeting state-of-affairs, so, least said, soonest mended. ~ There was no doubt that those last few (life-changing) minutes had had a potent and upsetting impact on the lad. He was puzzled and without his mates to encourage him felt quite out of his depth. His initial thoughts had been to laugh off the very idea that mum and dad were playing a ‘prank.’ However, now he was actually wearing a nappy, and the determination and threat of ‘worse’ if he didn’t comply, had turned his youthful (and disrespectful) attitude upside down. He wasn’t as sure as he had been about just how much power or influence he had in the household. He was reliant on them for everything, and, as he ran his palms uneasily over the smooth padding he was now being required to wear, his previous teenage self-confidence seemed to evaporate. The fact that he’d just leaked into his nappy was also a bit alarming, as if they knew he’d need one, but how? This was the stupidest of punishments as it made more work for all concerned but, he processed, it would only be his bulky nappy that anyone would notice. That was the main worry - the number of people who’d remark about it. What excuse could he come up with? Would his parents keep the secret as mentioned or just tell everyone that’s what he now wore because of some reason only they knew about? Again, anxiety filled his head and more unintentional pee dribbled into his nappy so began to feel like a stupid tot with no control. How had this happened and what could he do to change it? First off, he needed to hide the absurd fact that he’d just soaked his padding. ~ Although this underwear was very disconcerting, he saw, for the moment at least, he had very little option. The threat of something worse, and the fact that he wasn’t sure just what it was that he was being punished for, filled him with apprehension. All those cartoon images in comics of kids getting a spanking or the cane in some old schoolboy stories suddenly were no longer amusing. In his head he could visualise the painful effects of a strap landing on his bare arse, even if he’d never experienced it or seen anyone receive such a penalty. That powerful and terrifying image was there in his mind and enough to keep him under his parent’s sway. THWACK! Reluctantly he knew he had to get ready, any further attempts at defiance might lead to, well, who knew where? He tried on several different pairs of pants but couldn’t fasten the zips or buttons on the ones he liked because of the padding’s thickness. All his pants and jeans were relatively tight, a boy his age needed to look good and baggy pants were something only the uncool would wear. So, despite his frustration, in the end settled on a pair of loose blue linen shorts he was going to wear on holiday in a couple of weeks’ time. Oh hell, he had a sudden worry, would the planned holiday to Portugal in a couple of weeks now be cancelled because of all this? He hoped not as he’d been telling all his mates about the fabulous villa they were going to be staying in... he’d look stupid and a liar. He’d been looking forward to the holiday because of all the spectacular hot looking girls he expected there’d be on the beach. He was at the age where he knew the possibilities of a girlfriend were desirable and wasn’t averse to thinking of them before he went to sleep. However, his new situation made him reassess his attitude towards his parents and, hoped if he maintained a pleasant disposition, things would soon get back to normal. What had changed, apart from the nappy, was that every time he thought about removing it his mind immediately thought about that strap. He couldn’t shake the idea that his parents might resort to that as the ‘other’ alternative, even if they had never actually mentioned it. Instead of the usual lurid and disturbing t-shirt he preferred to wear, he slipped on a more conservative pale blue polo shirt with white sneakers and aimed to get to the breakfast table inside the allotted time. There was also the hope that the sooner he followed his parent’s directions, the sooner this whole stupid performance would be over. ~ “My, my sweetheart, you do look nice.” His mother greeted his eventual appearance. This was a bonus because the clothes he seemed to prefer always looked to carry some kind of threat. “I’ve done you some extra bacon so start; dad will join us shortly.” It was as if nothing had happened. How could she pretend everything was normal, he was wearing thick padding under his shorts? Well, if that’s the way they were going to be he had to play their game. That was it, pretend this was just a game. He could get through this stupid nonsense if he could set his mind to that fact. That should be easy-peasy. “Thanks mum,” Despite his relatively thick padding Robbie was keen to keep this appearance of acceptance going for as long as he could. He had sensed from what his father had implied that being all moody and disagreeable wasn’t going to work so hoped this other, more compliant way, would be effective. “This looks lovely.” His mother beamed with pride, although noticed at the same time the padding under his loose shorts wasn’t too identifiable although she enjoyed the soft rustle, which to her at least was an indication that nappy and plastic pants were where they should be. She saw the little waddle he’d had to adopt to accommodate the nappy’s thickness and couldn’t help but chuckle to herself because as he sat down the air rushed out from his wadding giving off a little whoosh. She made a mental note to capture all that on camera at some point and loved his reaction. He heard it as well and grimaced, making a mental note not to flop down anywhere whilst wearing plastic pants. Dad came in a few moments later and settled at the table and smiled encouragingly at his son. “Good start Robbie, good start,” and gave a seriously approving nod. After a few minutes of eating in relative silence Robbie started an apology of sorts. “Erm, look, erm, mum, dad, I’m sorry if I’ve been disrespectful recently and causing you to worry. You needn’t but, well... I’m sorry if my behaviour has upset you in any way.” His mother smiled, “Well that’s nice of you Robbie and we appreciate what you’ve just said.” Seizing what he thought was a moment of forgiveness he pursued it hopefully. “Please can I get out of this nappy... please?” “Sorry son,” his father added, “We’re grateful for your apology and the fact that you recognise your failings but we know that those things you’ve just expressed regret about are but the tip of the iceberg. So, the nappy stays.” His father was firm but balanced; there was no harsh words just a statement of fact. Robbie knew his dad was correct but had hoped that it might have worked. After a brief silent period of assessing the situation, he then got down to what was really worrying him. “Are we still going on holiday?” he wondered doubtfully. “Of course, sweetheart,” said his mother smiling encouragingly, “why would we not?” Her expression changed thinking something might be wrong “Oh, don’t you want to go anymore?” “No mum no, I mean I’m really looking forward to it but, well, I just wondered because of... erm... this.” He rubbed the front of his shorts indicating the large, contoured bulge, which with him sitting down had become emphasised. His mother laughed. “Oh sweetheart, you don’t think your dad and I would go without you, do you? We’re looking forward to the break as much as you and we’re told that there’s plenty to see and do so the place will be busy and fun.” “Great,” Robbie enthused more than a little relieved, “looking forward to it myself.” At the back of his mind, he was dying to ask how long he would have to wear this ridiculous outfit but thought best not to bring it to their attention. He might not like the answer. “But of course,” his father said with a look that wasn’t quite as friendly, “it all depends on you keeping the nappy on and not causing your mother or I any further... erm... concern.” The positivity Robbie had briefly held disappeared with those words and he knew he’d have to put up with wearing his extra thick padding if he wanted to go on holiday. “Yes dad,” he answered gloomily. ~ Later, and it took Robbie by surprise, his mother pulled down his shorts and checked to see if he was wet. He looked daggers at her, but she just ignored him. “Oh, darling you’re soaked,” she said sympathetically. “You must tell either of us when you’re wet... it’s not good to walk around in a soggy nappy.” Angry at the invasion of his privacy and feeling that it was their wrongdoing anyway he shot back, “Well if I didn’t have to wear the damn things I could go to the loo... this is all your fault.” He wasn’t going to admit that he’d inadvertently peed in his nappy. “Now, now sweetheart,” she soothed, “you know why you’re wearing such an item so let’s not pretend otherwise, hmmmm?” She didn’t want this to turn into a shouting match and as long as she and Thomas remained a calming influence, she was convinced Robbie would also remain compliant. “No, I don’t...” he spat back. She wasn’t going to rise to this touch of petulance and merely smiled and shook her head as if reprimanding a demanding toddler. “Oh yes, I think you do... anyway.... it’s a moot point because this is what you’ll be wearing from now on, so, you’ll just have to get used to it.” She finished dismissively. Despite his initial anger… “THWACK” a mental image of a strap walloping his backside filled his head and though he wanted to throw the biggest tantrum any twelve-year-old could muster, that psychological image pulled him up... and that wouldn’t be the only time. Oddly, he still felt guilty because he knew he wouldn’t be punished unless he had done something AND he’d done plenty of things he hoped they didn’t know about. So, swallowed his anger as she guided him back to his room for a clean-up and fresh nappy. Because he’d soaked his nappy he’d become a little less confident about ‘the game’ he pretended he was playing. It didn’t feel right that his mother was about to change him but couldn’t come up with a way out. His anxiety increased, his confidence sunk below the horizon and he felt uneasy as he toddled up to his room. Followed by his mother who was surreptitiously videoing it on her mobile phone. His swaying padded bum making for a very cute image. ~ Claire was incredibly pleased that he was using his padding, that had been the second step after getting him into it, but knew he resented the fact he had to. What she didn’t know was that his wet nappy occurred quite by accident and unannounced. He’d been as surprised as she was now that it was soaked. Robbie felt guilty that mum had identified that his nappy was wet, it was as if he was supplying the ammunition to shoot himself with. She, on the other hand, just seemed to accept it as the natural course of events and didn’t see it as a victory, merely something that needed sorting. In fact, Claire was beside herself with delight. She had been wondering how she could insist he use it but now it seemed he was using it on his own. Perhaps he was already accepting the new nappy routine and realised it was what he needed to do. Once the nappy was off and she’d wiped the damp area he announced that whilst it was off, he should go to the loo. “Mum, I need to go for a sh.... erm... I need a poo.” “Oh love, you should have gone in your nappy before the change. I tell you what, I’ll put it back on and you can do it then.” Robbie was shocked. Even though he’d been told he’d have to use his nappy he thought it simply wouldn’t happen. Despite his protests she fastened him back up and pulled his plastic pants over the damp fabric. “There sweetheart, you can go now.” “Mum, that’s ridiculous, the toilet is only there,” he pointed across the landing, “why are you making me use a nappy.” “Well, it’s all part of putting you back in them love. We expect you to use them for what they were designed for... and that means... everything.” “Mum, I’m not a baby so stop treating me like one.” He was angry with her but even so knew that repercussions might be worse so slightly drew back from a full scale strop. “I’m not going to shi...” he added with timid certainty, but Claire just looked at him and said, “In your own time love, in your own time.” He felt even more of his self-esteem slipping away - this wasn’t part of ‘the game’ surely? He sighed, determined he wouldn’t do that. ~ tbc ~ 6 3
Tasa Posted April 5 Posted April 5 Good story. However these parents are messed up, if they parented better from the start he would never have been in this situation. If he was 16 I would belive that they would not be able to influence his behavior, but at 12 they should have been able to steer him away from a gang and to much trouble. 2
CDfm Posted April 5 Posted April 5 I really enjoyed the new chapter. Got a better understanding of why his parents took the steps they did. Many people won’t agree with their decision but honestly it makes sense in some respect. He is young and defiant and is in need of a change in his life. He has resisted other alternatives and this method has a good possibility of success. I am hopeful his parents carry out this punishment until he adjusts himself. I am looking forward to seeing the next chapter. 3 1
Dirty Boy Posted April 5 Posted April 5 Robbie should go to the police, his parents are out of their minds. I would have waged war at home, i would have run away. If I were a parent, i would only implement constructive punishments, such as making him do a part-time job, etc. I am against punitive and humiliating punishments. I do not consider them educational, in fact they are counterproductive 2 1
Parkin Posted April 5 Posted April 5 On 4/3/2025 at 8:28 AM, Les Lea said: Some say discipline Others - guidance Some say control Others - guidance Some say abuse Others - guidance Claire and Thomas are offering guidance as they see it... of course... they could be wrong. As you will see if you stick with it... attitudes change. Hugs and thanks to all my readers. Les What? This is not guidance, they are completely mental 😆. And if they are wrong is not a debate thing. In real life they would get in trouble if someone reports them to the police. The parents would probably get into the news. But please don't get me wrong, this doesn't mean I dislike your story. I do like darker stories. 1 2
Dirty Boy Posted April 5 Posted April 5 I think the police, in the real world, might see it not as educational but as child molestation and abuse. Kids today are quite emancipated on these issues and would certainly seek help at least from uncles, grandparents, or a teacher. Let's say that I like to read these types of stories, but they put my "inner dad" in a bit of difficulty 😅 1 1
maly Posted April 5 Posted April 5 Thanks for the new chapter, I think Robbie is going to learn a lot lol. Maly. 2
Les Lea Posted April 6 Author Posted April 6 22 hours ago, Tasa said: Good story. However these parents are messed up, if they parented better from the start he would never have been in this situation. If he was 16 I would belive that they would not be able to influence his behavior, but at 12 they should have been able to steer him away from a gang and to much trouble. They thought they were parenting well. But sadly, Robbie's entire persona changed when he met Mally and his need to impress him. I agree, if he was 16 then things would be different but they still see a chance of 'saving' him. Perhaps not everyone is a fan of the way they decided to do it. 😬 18 hours ago, CDfm said: I really enjoyed the new chapter. Got a better understanding of why his parents took the steps they did. Many people won’t agree with their decision but honestly it makes sense in some respect. He is young and defiant and is in need of a change in his life. He has resisted other alternatives and this method has a good possibility of success. I am hopeful his parents carry out this punishment until he adjusts himself. I am looking forward to seeing the next chapter. I agree. Parenting isn't easy and when a problem rears up then it can be hard to quell it. To me making him wear a nappy so he's aware of his real status (a child) may be weird but it's better than a sound beating. 18 hours ago, Dirty Boy said: Robbie should go to the police, his parents are out of their minds. I would have waged war at home, i would have run away. If I were a parent, i would only implement constructive punishments, such as making him do a part-time job, etc. I am against punitive and humiliating punishments. I do not consider them educational, in fact they are counterproductive There's no way does Robbie want the police involved. He has been up to all manner of things in his gang and there's certainly at least one thing he would be scared of them discovering. 16 hours ago, parkintochter said: What? This is not guidance, they are completely mental 😆. And if they are wrong is not a debate thing. In real life they would get in trouble if someone reports them to the police. The parents would probably get into the news. No one but the three family members know so... no one is going to the police. 15 hours ago, Dirty Boy said: I think the police, in the real world, might see it not as educational but as child molestation and abuse. Kids today are quite emancipated on these issues and would certainly seek help at least from uncles, grandparents, or a teacher. Let's say that I like to read these types of stories, but they put my "inner dad" in a bit of difficulty 😅 In the real world I don't think the police would find a naughty boy being returned to wearing a nappy as anything but a good thing. They have enough to do than settle any family squabbles... when no one has complained. 11 hours ago, maly said: Thanks for the new chapter, I think Robbie is going to learn a lot lol. Maly. Thanks Maly and all of you for your fantastic comments. I hope you stick with Robbie and his 'nappy punishment' and see where this eventually leads. Just remember, he has a secret HE doesn't want discovered... so perhaps creating to much of a fuss might be more detrimental to him than his parents. Thanks again everyone Hugs to you all. Les 1
Dirty Boy Posted April 6 Posted April 6 Let's say that this type of punishment creates fractures between children and parents, with hatred that remains. If children are humiliated and oppressed, once they grow up they have a detached relationship and try to leave home as soon as possible (college, work) and reduce contact to a minimum. Let's say that treating children in a way that is too punitive and humiliating causes karma to catch up with you, when you are old, they will have no qualms about locking you up in a nursing home. So it is a cynical reasoning but it is the truth. If I were a parent, if i really had to punish a child, i would do it in a constructive way as i said, sending him to do a part-time job to make him responsible. I believe that using punitive systems such as beatings or things that humiliate him, damages his psyche, maybe it could turn him into a bully. Many bullies are bullies because they are abused at home, and they take it out on their peers. 2
wetdiaper55 Posted April 7 Posted April 7 I love the story . I can,t wait for the next chapter , Lets see where it is going 1
wetdiaper55 Posted April 7 Posted April 7 If Robert is small for his age, mom and dad could pass him off as a big toddler on hoilday .....and save some money 1
Les Lea Posted April 8 Author Posted April 8 On 4/6/2025 at 10:56 AM, Dirty Boy said: Let's say that this type of punishment creates fractures between children and parents, with hatred that remains. If children are humiliated and oppressed, once they grow up they have a detached relationship and try to leave home as soon as possible (college, work) and reduce contact to a minimum. Let's say that treating children in a way that is too punitive and humiliating causes karma to catch up with you, when you are old, they will have no qualms about locking you up in a nursing home. So it is a cynical reasoning but it is the truth. If I were a parent, if i really had to punish a child, i would do it in a constructive way as i said, sending him to do a part-time job to make him responsible. I believe that using punitive systems such as beatings or things that humiliate him, damages his psyche, maybe it could turn him into a bully. Many bullies are bullies because they are abused at home, and they take it out on their peers. You might well be correct but karma doesn't always happen... except in American sit-coms and all kids react differently to what they are faced with. These parents have been particularly cunning. School is on a long break and they can unveil their plans with hardly any one else being in the least bit involved. However, maybe the guilt Robbie is carrying he might well believe this is something he deserves... or is at least preferable to the vicious alternative. Thanks for your comments.... they are much appreciated. Hug On 4/7/2025 at 6:25 AM, wetdiaper55 said: I love the story . I can,t wait for the next chapter , Lets see where it is going I'll try to put the updates online at regular intervals... hopefully at least once a week... maybe more. 18 hours ago, wetdiaper55 said: If Robert is small for his age, mom and dad could pass him off as a big toddler on hoilday .....and save some money Hmmmm... let's see how the relationship develops between the family once they get to their destination. Thanks to all my readers and those who comment. a HUGE HUG to each and all. :Les 1
Les Lea Posted April 9 Author Posted April 9 Part 3 That’s twelve days ago and, despite all his protestations, he’s still wearing a thick fabric nappy. Early on he tried a few times to lose them, and, on each occasion, he’d been found out. His parents expressed their disappointment but then gave him the opportunity of being re-nappied or experiencing an even worse (but undisclosed) punishment. By then he was so scared of what that might entail he reluctantly let himself be folded into what has become his customary thick fleecy padding. However, he had disobeyed them so there were to be consequences. At the time he didn’t quite realise what that meant but now - he couldn’t go anywhere without an adult; TV programmes were monitored so was only able to watch Children’s TV without supervision and bedtime was brought forward by half an hour each time he’d tried to scramble out of his nappy. Although the initial idea hadn’t been to reduce him to act like a toddler the more he protested and squirmed in his padding, the more it all seemed appropriate to deal with him in that way. They’d let him grow up choosing his own path but that had led in the wrong direction, so the pull back, the reining in of his possible self-destructive side, was now down to them. Psychologically, the fact that he was wearing a nappy made it easier for them to treat him as a little boy in need of such instruction. What’s more, with him having restrictions both physical and mental, what they were doing appeared to be getting results. Even after the first day he’d thought it would be over quickly. He couldn’t understand why his parents would want their son to wear something so childish. He felt silly and vulnerable and dreaded anyone knowing anything about it, and yet they seemed perfectly fine with it all. So, when he was put into another nappy, and then another... he was upset but the fit of temper he wanted to unleash was kept firmly in check. Quite simply, now he was wearing a nappy, he found it difficult to fight back against his mum and dad’s fervour. There had been times when he’d checked his drawers to see if his ‘proper’ underwear had returned, only to be saddened at the number of nappies piled there. It didn’t look like this punishment was going to end soon judging by that amount of fleecy cotton. Also, because of the times he’d not told them he was wet, they insisted that, when at home, no shorts. He was furious at that rule but, like everything else, it came to pass. Something else that had crept up on him unaware was that his room now had a faint smell of urine but quite a heavy atmosphere of liniment and baby powder. It was something that, like everything else about this project, brought memories, happy memories, flooding back to mum who was in her element dealing with it all. ~ With each ‘pull back’ by his parents, and the added reaction that had on his entire mental capabilities, he was feeling tense, nervous and had difficulty concentrating, whilst feeling detached from what was happening. At times it felt like it was all happening to someone else and when he felt that way his nappy was perplexingly a comfort, whilst at other times just an irritation. At bedtime his padding was made thicker with booster pads and tougher plastic pants, which in truth his mother thought made him look just too sweet for words. (The photographs she took at such times both when he was awake and asleep bore testimony to this fact). There were times when the plastic cover just held the nappy cushion to perfection and made him look every inch a sweet little toddler. There was no hiding the fact that, with each change (and application of cream and powder), mum was enjoying seeing her boy wearing such an item and loved to see each of his ‘special covers’ mould itself around the padding and produce what she thought was the ideal way Robbie should wear his nappy – glossy and firm. What was even odder was there were also times when she spoke to him as a child and he didn’t react badly or shrug with disdain. Despite claiming not wanting to be treated as a baby her constant reassurance he was a ‘good boy’ was having an effect. He seemed to actually enjoy being complimented and comforted - mum especially always keen to deliver a supportive hug. This was strange because no matter how many times he told himself this shouldn’t be happening, the hugs immediately made things seem better. In the days since she’d put him back into a nappy she’d persuaded herself that because she thought this a good idea AND for his own good, he’d eventually appreciate that fact for himself. As if by some magical spell, even if he didn’t confess his multiple sins, he would acknowledge what was happening and know it was all in his best interest. She was unyielding in her belief that this was for the good (and possible redemption) of their wayward boy. He’d been irresponsible and wanted her good boy back. She repeatedly told herself that by making him wear a nappy, he would understand he was still only a child and under their protection. They knew what was best for him and, quite simply, he looked so adorable wearing one. At each change mum and dad were positive and encouraged him to be happy in HIS nappy. They kept emphasising that it was HIS and that it was because of what he’d done that he was wearing one. They doggedly pursued the notion that if they insisted his nappy wearing was all down to him then he would find it more difficult to blame others. In next to no time, and quite unexpectedly, Claire and Thomas had eroded his independence and made him totally dependent on what they decided. The mouthy pre-teen was, to their surprise, quickly subdued and learned that his way of life depended on wearing his nappy. He may not have been happy-in-a-nappy but what he perceived to be the alternative meant he had little choice. The thing was, so embedded in his thoughts was the brutal ‘THWACK!’ of the strap on his unprotected bum, that mental image alone made him recoil from pushing too hard at the new boundaries - that, together with the fact he still had no idea what exactly he needed to apologise for. Well, actually he did and the unforgivable shame about what he’d done was quite overwhelming so he certainly wasn’t going to confess to THAT. ~ Meanwhile he tried apologising “for everything” but his parents asked him to be specific. He struggled by admitting to some of his lesser crimes, but his parents just smiled and asked him to think again. This of course incensed him, which made him feel angry and argumentative, but to no avail. The restrictions for where he could go and what he could do were quite severe but he didn’t have the conviction or proficiency to combat them. So the nappy stayed and because of that he didn’t want to go anywhere or see anyone. The reality that they’d got him into nappies a lot easier than anticipated increased their desire to make sure he didn’t get out of them again anytime soon. Seeing their son totter around the house wearing such nice thick protection, and him being aware of that fact AND that it was down to ‘something he’d done’, oddly made for a lot less stressed household. His father’s firmness and mother’s equal, but more understanding, approach had befuddled him enough so as not to be sure where he stood. Every time he disputed the need for a nappy as punishment, his reluctance to admit to why he was now wearing one was used against him. “We don’t have to explain anything young man... but keep arguing and see where that gets you. Remember, you brought this on yourself!” This nebulous contention left him mystified and angry but had nothing to fight back with. He couldn’t confess, that would be just too much. He also thought, no he knew, if what he’d done ever got out then his parents would disown him completely. It wasn’t worth even thinking about, the repercussions were too dire to contemplate... he had enough to worry about as it was. As a result, because of his quarrelling, bedtime, with extra thick fabric padding and heavy protective plastic pants, had at one point been 7pm, which for a lad his age was ridiculously early. So, although he wriggled out of them to begin with, pretty soon learned that wasn’t going to happen without significant cost, especially when they quickly returned him to the now permanent cushion of a fleecy nappy, which of course was accompanied by the sweet telltale rustle of plastic pants. Being put to bed, not sent, they made sure he was tucked up nicely and kissed ‘night-night’ so he knew they meant business. They also added the proviso that he wasn’t to get up for any reason and if he did - how did he fancy a six o’clock bedtime? To get to this point there had been several complete family eruptions but all were dealt with by mother’s sympathy and understanding coupled with father’s refusal to change his mind. In fact, Robbie had never known his parents be so difficult to influence. In the past he’d always been able to get his way playing one parent off against the other. Well, so he thought, but of course that wasn’t quite what was happening. His parents had always thought they’d brought him up to be responsible but now they’d seen that error, no matter how temporary or otherwise, of a free rein. They were determined to stop that decent and had decided on this, perhaps controversial, way to alter the circumstances. “We said you’ll wear a nappy all the time and that’s just what we meant,” his mother said with a severity Robbie just wasn’t used to. He shivered at her determination as his own hope that he still had any say in the matter diminished. “We don’t want to baby you but you are still a child and under our care and it appears you need a constant reminder of that fact... and what is more... you know exactly why.” His body radiated a hot guilty flush, his padding seemed to get heavier, and the tell-tale rush of nervous pee into it only confirmed why he now wore a nappy. “Try and remove them again and see what happens,” his father added with touch of malice but of course always added a smile, which could have been interpreted in two ways. THWACK! – the heavy mental guilt trip made him comply. That final threat left Robbie all but feeling what that might be, though grasped it was something he didn’t want to experience. ~ He’d resented early bedtimes but, with the prospect of it being moved to 6:00pm, he gave in, much to his mother’s relief; she didn’t want to fight him she wanted his acceptance of the situation. She took great delight in getting her boy ready and into his thick nighttime nappy. His usual sleepwear of boxers and t-shirt had been replaced by a nice, but very thick, fleecy nappy with extra padding (to help take care of his morning mess) and a t-shirt that was supersoft, which was in a plain pastel colour. So, despite his protests, wriggling and total un-cooperation her determination (and control) was definite about what he would be wearing from that moment on. She made sure that every little interaction, whether good or bad, ended with her pulling him in for a hug. It may not have been what he wanted but confusingly there was no denying a comforting warmth spread through his body (though not necessarily his nappy) whenever it happened. Because of all this, at each change the memory of his babyhood would surface when she’d slipped in a dummy or fed him a bottle of warm milk, such a happy and fulfilling time for her (why couldn’t things be like that again she’d fantasise?). However, that wasn’t the outcome they were searching for. This wasn’t an attempt to baby him (but more and more it did appear to be heading that way by its own volition), it was to make Robbie realise the penalties for his unchecked actions and the culpability he shared in this outcome. Once he’d stopped fighting them on that particular front, he was able to gain a later bedtime and some restricted playtime on his console but that was reliant on his behaviour. Nevertheless, each change of nappy didn’t stop his mother, emotionally at least, reliving those times when he was such a cute and loving little tot. Rubbing in anti-rash cream and sprinkling his naked little genitals with talcum powder, were all such a heady image. She’d covertly capture such moments on her mobile when he wasn’t looking and often when he was asleep – he was one loveable nappied teen when lying there dreaming about who knows what. It was no burden for Claire to be responsible for his nappy changes... wet and messy... she didn’t mind. That was the other thing, he wasn’t allowed to change himself, not that he wanted that job, but his parents insisted that only they were allowed to change his nappies. It made it more personal; they could also keep a check on him and of course it made him totally reliant on them for dry padding. His night time nappy was thicker to cope with everything he was expected to have deposited in it come morning. Claire made sure that his huge, glossy plastic padded bum was the last thing she saw each night as he climbed under the covers. To her the smooth shiny bulk was the epitome of innocence and also a not-so-subtle reminder that he looked very much a pre, pre-teen. “If only...” she’d think. Which would lead to thoughts of him nursing on a warm bottle of milk or happily sucking on a dummy like he had when a toddler. She’d try and ignore these mental images but they were quite strong and very, very pleasing. Sometimes he was grumpy and ‘not in the mood’ for a hug but that didn’t worry her as she’d kiss him affectionately on his forehead and whisper “Goodnight sweetie”. The gentle rustle of his plastic pants against the bed linen as he got himself comfy a delight to her ears. He complained about the mass being too weighty, the plastic pants made him hot and sweaty, which made his nappy damp even when he hadn’t peed in it. However, the truth was that his mother had fitted them perfectly. She’d made it so that his nighttime protection was much thicker with extra padding to soak up any extra ‘flow’ and that his clear or white plastic pants were also much larger and more robust to cover the extra material. She discerned what would work and what wouldn’t and knew that the smooth rounded shape, both front and back, would not only let him know he was well-protected but that a boy, her boy, would be very secure. Of course, he wouldn’t admit to this startling fact but his nappy was indeed annoyingly snug... and begrudgingly there were times when her praise and love was very, very welcome. At his age it was those things he’d been trying to escape from, however, when it came down to it, and it’s constant availability, it was something he quite liked. She was completely in her motherly element as each night she patted and stroked his slinky large plastic bottom when he crawled under the bed covers. The cushiony package filling her nightly with happy mummy-hormones and even happier memories. “Night-night sweetheart... we love you Robbie... never forget that.” She caressed his hair and kissed his forehead. His bed times might have got a little later than when he was being confrontational but they still weren’t overly late. So, even though he was full of resentment and hated the large bulky item fixed around his groin that had that soft swishing sound as he moved, his mother’s words were always positive and loving and it was hard to stay cranky under such circumstances. She’d got him into a loving routine which happily meant all his arguments were forgotten as he fell into a blissful night’s sleep. ~ However, the first time he’d had to crap in his nappy had been the most difficult. On that first day he really wasn’t sure. He’d decided to ‘just get it over with’ so was trying to cope as best he could but also he was twelve and thought there was no way he should be wearing a nappy never mind having to use it. After mum had reapplied his wet one and told him to use it - that was a shock. He’d held off as long as he could and eventually begged his father to let him use the toilet like he had for the past eight years. Dad was resolute that he used his nappy as prescribed and insisted that the boy should just relax and not worry about it. This made no sense to Robbie who was sure it was being done just to humiliate him further. His absolute refusal to shit himself was skewered by the fact that the holiday was fast approaching. His parents had made clear that all future events depended on him carrying out their demands and that meant staying in his padding and using it. So, no matter what he wanted, this was the state of play. However, he had no intention of missing out on the holiday and was still of the opinion that, if not before, when that day arrived then his punishment would cease, and everything would return to normal. Although no nearer acknowledging why he was being punished in such a way, he still felt guilty (very guilty). There was no doubt that with the intensity of his parent’s chastisement he must have crossed a line somewhere, even if he didn’t know how or when. It was all very frustrating and perplexing but didn’t know what he could do to change things. Everything he’d so far tried had ended with a smile and a push back – “You know why you’re wearing a nappy sweetheart”. To do what he was being told to do was the ultimate betrayal of what growing up was all about. How could he forget all the years of going to the toilet easily? It was difficult and of course the reluctance was causing him great pain. His stomach growled as he tried to keep from releasing his smelly load but still dad wouldn’t let him visit the toilet, he had to use the nappy. “Please dad... please let me just go...” “Come here son,” Thomas beckoned him over and hugged the crying boy to his chest and rubbed his back and patted his thick padding. “Just relax and let go.” “I can’t dad honestly I’ve tried,” his sobbing son appealed. “Sshhhhh, don’t cry...” he patted and rubbed his son’s cushioned bum, “We don’t want you to be ill and all that’s in you is going to come out eventually so... let it.” He whispered in the boy’s ear. “Just relax son, just relax and let it happen... I’m here for you but it’s something you need to do...” Tears of incomprehension and total irrationality spun in his head. It didn’t make any sense as to why he needed to perform such a dirty and backward action. It wasn’t right... “But why dad... why?” The sobbingly increased. “Because son from now on that’s how it’s going to be. So, the sooner you do it the sooner we can all move on.” The words were supportive but Thomas wondered if this was really necessary. Claire had said that Robbie needed to know he was wearing a nappy and thought just wearing one wouldn’t quite get the message home. However, a wet and messy nappy made sure he realised that he was being punished. “But dad...” Unfortunately, as his father rubbed his back to console him his resolve ended abruptly with a huge involuntary fart and the back of his nappy began to fill. A loud cry of anguish came from Robbie as he had no alternative but to release the entire load once it started. His body shook as his father held him tightly and offered words of reassurance. “There, there son, that’s better... get it all out and then later we can get you all changed into a fresh one for the rest of the day.” Robbie was crying hard, mortified about what was happening. He couldn’t escape his father’s hug and, in a strange way, being held by his understanding dad was somehow comforting. However, he didn’t take in what had been said as lump after lump of mess pushed into the seat of his already well-soaked nappy. Robbie couldn’t get over what was happening. Surely this couldn’t be what anyone wanted but still his nappy grew messier as the mush continued to fill it. This was the most horrendous thing that had ever happened to him and it wasn’t his fault. His mum and dad had made him do this and yet, as the pain in his stomach lessened, he was grateful for it to be out, though hated where it had ended up. Tears of humiliation, frustration and incomprehension were streaming down his face “Good boy, I’m sure you feel better now. It’s all part of a process... well done.” The plastic pants had expanded but held the contents as his dad stroked the warm bulk that now settled in the seat of his son’s browning terry nappy. Once he was sure he’d finished Thomas patted him reassuringly one more time and left him so he could come to terms with it all. Robbie really didn’t know what to do next; the shame and disgust at what had happened left him paralysed. A lad his age not only having to wear a nappy but messing in it as well hammered away at his once proud self-image. He was reduced to nothing but a toddler, which the tears coursing down his face only went to support. He was totally chastened. The bewildered lad was stunned that he wasn’t immediately changed but his reactions were very strong – shock and revulsion. He was surprised at the weight that dragged at his rear. In fact, it was his tight plastic pants that were holding the entire thing up and, for the moment at least, contained the smell. A few minutes later and still standing in his room, the smell became apparent so, despite loathing each little movement, went in search of mum hoping she’d change him. However, he caught sight of himself in the mirror as he slowly waddled and was nauseated. He could see through the clear plastic pants just how discoloured his nappy had become, how streaked with tears his face was and how totally miserable and juvenile he looked… and it terrified him. He’d become the very thing he was afraid of becoming, a baby. “Ah sweetheart, yes of course I’ll change you but, I’m busy at the moment. Why don’t you go and play in the garden, and I’ll sort you out as soon as I finish what I’m doing.” “Play in the garden?” I’m not a kid thought Robbie. However, his full and increasingly saggy nappy indicated otherwise. Reluctantly (and carefully) he waddled outside, if for no other reason it diluted the smell around him but couldn’t do anything. He dreaded sitting down or mushing the mess against his skin so stood patiently but totally sickened waiting for her to come and sort him out. Whilst waiting he had time to take in the ludicrous situation he found himself. He was angry, frightened, sad and a whole bunch of other emotions were bubbling around in his head. What were his parents playing at? What could he do to change things? But worst of all, was he destined to spend the rest of this inexplicable punishment wearing messy nappies? Again, he tried to pinpoint in his mind just what it was his parents knew that had produced this weird and retrograde step in his advance to becoming a teenager. He was in turmoil; wouldn’t it just be easier to admit to his ‘crime’ and have done but that confession was just too much to contemplate. Then he had a panic attack – what if any of his mates came around now and witnessed his shame? He was twelve he shouldn’t be wearing a nappy and definitely not shit in one but as he thought this, he also remembered that he’d said neither of these things would happen and yet they had. He hadn’t realised just how much his body was shivering. It wasn’t cold, far from it, but his body seemed to be reacting to the situation on its own. He felt vulnerable, that was it, vulnerable and scared and every bit the small child who needed mum or dad to sort things out for him. This was all too much; the emotional strain had been stretched to snapping point... and it had just snapped. Another huge sob wracked his body – why, why, WHY were they making him wear a nappy and worse still use it? What the hell had he done (that they knew about) that made this a punishment that fit any crime? Even the slightest movement reminded him of the grainy sludge he was carrying around. He hoped that now he’d done it he wouldn’t have to anymore. Alas he was wrong. Twenty-five minutes later mum came out with a changing mat and a bunch of other items and laid them out on the sunny lawn and called him over. Cheerfully, and there out in the fresh air, she was going to give him his first messy nappy change since he was three; the first of many she anticipated whilst getting her boy back. Back from what and where was between him and her. He couldn’t understand why she was so pleased he’d just shit himself yet she was full of praise and patted his filled nappy with enthusiasm. “You’re doing very well Robbie.... keep up the good work and who knows?” This had been yet another big test, he’d wet without any encouragement, but this had needed pressure and deprivation to get him to comply. Still, he’d done it now and she was unbelievably proud of him. Quite simply, that might have been down to the fact that she now thought of him as a little kid and, although that wasn’t supposed to be the idea, the thought was happily held in her head. “But mum,” he tried to get his snivelling under control, “this can’t be what you want... I’m, I’m, (hic) not a little baby.” Unfortunately for Robbie, as his mother looked down on him, she didn’t agree. A messy nappy, a tear-streaked face, pleading eyes and needing a mummy’s love to make things better. She wasn’t going to tell him, but yes, that’s just what he was, her baby boy. “Well love, let’s think about it. You’ve been returned to wearing a nappy for a reason...” “Yes, but I don’t know what for...” The frustration and absolute bewilderment at what he’d just done evident in his sad eyes. “I’ve not been told what it is I’ve done.” He sheepishly countered; face creased simply not understanding. “We think you do know,” she gave him a look as if to say, ‘you aren’t fooling anyone’. “Now we think the return to wearing a nappy will give you time to contemplate on the ‘why’ and perhaps, once we see that recognition in you, then things might return to normal... well relatively.” “But this is unfair, why do I have to use these damn things...” He pulled at the messy material, “It doesn’t make any sense...” Even as he said the words he knew that his fate was sealed and the nappies, HIS nappies, were about to become a more permanent fixture than he had anticipated. “Well son, to your father and I this is what you need... a simple and effective reminder of the repercussions for what you’ve been up to. You’ve abused your responsibilities of being grown up so now, as an aide-mémoire, a reminder if you like that you are in fact still a child, our child, you’re back in nappies. Not very subtle I’ll grant you, but we hope it will prove effective.” The need in him to defy all of this, to shout “NO” at the top of his voice, to not just capitulate to his parents demands was brewing. He was agitated about what had happened, he couldn’t understand WHY it had happened and what’s more, even though he had a nappy full of shit, he was determined it wouldn’t happen again. Until that is his brain reminded him... THWACK! Overcome with anger but still worried he bawled, “But I’m twelve... I can’t be a, a, a baby.” He stuttered whilst crying and not for the first time wondered why they were doing this? Could it be that he was growing up too fast? But that was a stupid motive surely they didn’t know his secret... did they? Catching his baby reference Claire said. “But love, we remember the days when you were at your best and it was when you were a toddler and still wearing a nappy. Then you were such a happy and loving little boy; no secrets, no agenda, no...” she thought for a moment and then added “well... let’s just say... we’ve decided what’s for the best.” “But a messy nappy... mum... that can’t be right.” He was unsure how he could put this any clearer because to him it just didn’t make sense. She had some sympathy but there was no doubt that lying there in such a juvenile state, a lot of that brashness and flippant remarks had all but disappeared. What’s more, for the first time in ages he looked helpless and in need of his mummy and daddy... and that’s just what he was going to get. “We’ll see sweetheart, we’ll see. We think you were at your best then and maybe it’s what you need now...mummy and daddy making all the decisions and your return to a time of innocence... but for the moment let’s get you out of this dirty nappy, hmm?” The snivelling continued all the way through the clean-up and change; he was one very unhappy and very mystified twelve-year-old but perhaps weirdly, a fresh clean nappy was a wonderful relief. He was also out in the open, in the middle of the garden, where anyone paying a visit would be able to see. “Mum, please can’t we do this indoors... please?” He begged. “Sweetheart, you must not argue with mummy. She’ll decide where and when your nappy needs checking or changing... not my sweet little...” “Mum, I’m not a baby please don’t...” But his protest were in vain as whilst he closed his eyes and hoped no one else would see him, ‘mummy’, whether he liked her using the term or not, had him cleaned up and changed in just a few moments. “There now,” his mother beamed as she proudly patted the finished item, “doesn’t that feel so much better?” Compared to the dirty, sopping load that had been surrounding his waist, anything would be better. However, a look of incomprehension and disbelief on her son’s face was oddly offset by an unintentional nod of agreement, much to his mother’s approval. “Now then love,” she said tenderly “the secret to avoid wearing a messy nappy is to get into a routine.” Robbie wanted to say that the secret was not to wear one in the first place and just get on with things he’d done since he was three... like get to the toilet on time but he wasn’t given the chance. She saw him about to speak and hushed him into silence. “Now, as we’ve told you we’ll make every effort to change you as soon as we know your nappy needs it but, if you get into a routine then you can more or less be free from constant checks.” She could see he was not happy as she patted the thick padding, an action that was enforcing the fact this was now part of him. There was a slight wriggle as Robbie got used to his fresh underwear and Claire couldn’t get over just how much pleasure she got from seeing his fleecy white nappy and ducky pins through the glossy plastic and the subtle rustle gave an aural aspect to what was before her. As far as she was concerned it was all simply... Perfection. “What I suggest is that in the morning when we change you out of your lovely thick night time nappy that you take the opportunity to fill it before that happens. That way, you’re not carrying any poo around during the day when opportunities to change and clean you up might be a little more difficult.” He looked horrified at the suggestion. “So, we expect our morning changes to be messy but at least it will be out of the way, then, apart from any accidents, which of course we’ll deal with as soon as we can.” “But mum...” “It’s for your own good sweetheart, take my advice or not, it’s your choice but do you really want to be wearing a messy nappy for any longer than you need to?” Robbie wanted to say it was no choice at all, he was being made to act like a toddler but knew that shouting wasn’t going to work. “But mum, I don’t...” “Those are your options sweetheart and it’s up to you whether you follow my advice. Oh, and in case you’re wondering, things won’t change, the nappy stays for all your toilet activities... OK?” “But mum... please... I... I...” “Shhh, shhhh, shhhhh, sweetheart, this is happening so why not make the best of it… who knows… you might just enjoy it.” He was stunned into silence – might just enjoy it... joking right? That was her final words on the subject and although horrified he knew it wasn’t going to end anytime soon. ~ tbc ~ 7 2
Dirty Boy Posted April 9 Posted April 9 Poor Robbie, his parents are two psychopaths, he should seek help. They have crossed the ethical line of punishment
CDfm Posted April 9 Posted April 9 Dirty Boy, his parents care about him. As a result sometimes punishment is necessary and at times the punishment is not simply a timeout. Sometimes it’s more complicated than that. I can’t say I would totally agree with diapering my child but then it does seem that his parents have decided this is a viable option and I would not disagree with them. It’s something that could very well work for Robbie. I really wish I know what his ultimate secret was though. Knowing that in my mind world be the thing that would ultimately decide his punishment. However knowing he isn’t giving that up. I agree with the approach his parents are taking. Make him decide what’s going to happen. Until then, they get back a compliant and cooperative child again. Les Lea I am truly enjoying another of your stories. Looking forward to seeing more. 1
Dirty Boy Posted April 9 Posted April 9 8 minutes ago, CDfm said: Dirty Boy, his parents care about him. As a result sometimes punishment is necessary and at times the punishment is not simply a timeout. Sometimes it’s more complicated than that. I can’t say I would totally agree with diapering my child but then it does seem that his parents have decided this is a viable option and I would not disagree with them. It’s something that could very well work for Robbie. I really wish I know what his ultimate secret was though. Knowing that in my mind world be the thing that would ultimately decide his punishment. However knowing he isn’t giving that up. I agree with the approach his parents are taking. Make him decide what’s going to happen. Until then, they get back a compliant and cooperative child again. Les Lea I am truly enjoying another of your stories. Looking forward to seeing more. I disagree, there are ethical limits that should not be exceeded, even in punishments. Robbie should rebel and seek help, from a purely legal point of view what his parents are doing could fall under the crime of abuse and harassment. As I was saying, punishments in my opinion must be constructive, for example you make him do a part-time job and in any case with a child you talk to him and try to understand any discomfort. This type of punishment undermines the child's self-esteem, and it is the worst thing a parent can do, you risk creating psychological damage. In addition, the thing is that he must not lie about the fact that he wears diapers and the risk of being exposed to extractions, risking exposing him to bullying. Stories with children and young people really strike me, because even though I have not been lucky enough to be a parent, I have a strong parental instinct. Then it is also a cultural fact, Americans apparently have a more punitive and severe way of educating their children, in Italy for example there is a different approach. 1
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