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Love isn’t all you need… but it’s
certainly a start.
Cardinal Willem Luthar Flischer (1949
more than a little agitated as he sat in his playpen
pushing the toy plastic train around and around. The
soft vinyl mattress he was playing on had got a few
‘hills’ and ‘dales’ for him to at least make his
choo-choo sounds a little different as the train climbed
up and down its enclosed plastic domain.
His own plastic
pants, with the multi-teddy bear motif that encased his
thick disposable, crinkled as he crawled around and was
a nice accompaniment to the tinkling sounds of the
overhead mobile plinking a soft nursery rhyme.
pale orange t-shirt had an image of a smiling brown and
orange monkey hanging from a branch and the words ‘Lil
Monkey’ written in swirling letters underneath. He was
warm, he was safe and thanks to his super-thick nappy,
he felt extremely secure.
Sitting in one
corner was his new, sparkling white, soft and smiling
plushie, Snowy the polar bear. Lying quietly behind him
was pink Bunny Fluffytail and his plastic T-Rex, Tex.
The size of his
playpen was adequate enough to contain him and his
myriad of toys and fluffy creatures, and, for the last
few months it had been a big part of his world. That and
being looked after by ‘mummy’.
The thing was
he’d been on his own for some time now and was missing
Four months ago
she had discovered an almost broken young boy on the
verge of suicide and contemplating the welcoming embrace
of the rail line as he stood perilously close to the
edge of the bridge.
everything: His job, his home, his money and his
addicted to something that had changed his personality
so much that no one wanted anything more to do with him
it was, it had filled him with an attitude and a
carelessness that made him believe he was indestructible
(he’d not allow any reasoning voice to alter its
ego-boost). He’d been stupid enough to believe his own
hype and let others take care of ‘all the other stuff’.
His swift rise
as an eighteen year-old reality star had taken its toll
on his personality, the very thing that had made him so
popular in the first place. His small stature, baby
face, sweet nature and a choirboy innocence (that would
have let him get away with murder) had endeared him to
the public consciousness whilst the show was on.
the show finished and the offers came flowing in; the
fame and the money, the parties and the celebrity all
conspired to ruin him. The newspapers were quick to
castigate such a ‘nasty little upstart’ and he quickly
lost all the goodwill he’d had because of a series of
that any publicity is good publicity was wrong when it
came to the career of Gordon ‘Little’ Littlewood. Just
two years after it had started, it was over. His small
stature and schoolboy looks didn’t stop the papers from
holding him up to public ridicule for his drunkenness,
drug abuse but the final straw had been the rape charge.
newsgroups, social media and newspapers in general
became like a pack of wolves around the subject of
Gordon Littlewood. After all, the news media had
decided, as he was over eighteen he was targetable. The
public were getting fed up with rich, young,
good-looking celebs; it was time to take them down a peg
There was once a
time when a gentler, more forgiving, atmosphere existed
in the world but nowadays it had been replaced by anger,
spite and lethal vindictiveness and, if you were in
their sights and vulnerable, you were eaten alive.
‘Little’ became a BIG but unedifying story for the media
and anyone with an axe to grind.
It hadn’t helped
that his sweet personality had so rapidly changed to
become unbearable and self-possessed. The sad thing for
Gordon was he had nothing to back up what people had
seen in him in the first place. That easy charm he’d
revealed in the show was perceived (thanks to those
highly defamatory articles and gossip columns) as
nothing more than fake. The fact that he was once a
‘nice lad’, corrupted by fame and turned into this
spiteful, self-opinionated sleaze ball, was absolutely
no defence. As the papers joyously pointed out, it was
easy to blame everyone else for his self-inflicted
The rape charge
was eventually thrown out of court for ‘lack of
evidence’ but he was never completely exonerated, even
though most people ultimately realised the accuser was
sick and had made the entire scenario up.
by then it was all too late and, as everything was gone;
the money, the fame, the ‘friends’ (who delightedly
cashed in on his celebrity) and any self-respect he once
might have had departed. So, at just nineteen (almost
twenty) years old he stood on the bridge wondering what
life would be like dead.
The playpen was
quite large and comfy as he lay listening to the
plinky-plonk sound of his mobile. He hugged Bunny
Fluffytail and held tightly onto his fleecy blankie,
whilst gazing up at the stars and flying horses that
circled over his head. The large white dummy he gently
slurped on was also a comfort as he waited for mummy to
come and change his soaked nappy.
Earlier in the
day his mummy had gently pulled him from his crib where
he was all warm and sleepy and checked on his wet night
time protection. She only changed him
after he’d suckled on his bottle of formula and eaten
the large spoon’s full of mushy Honey Oaties he enjoyed
He liked it when
mummy changed him. She spoke such sweet words, kissed
and tickled his tummy, cleaned and powdered him in such
a loving way that, even when he was wrapped in his clean
thick new disposable, he wanted it to continue.
the process was complete and mummy was happy with the
way her little baby boy was dressed, she’d hug and
cuddle him tightly to her bosom and rock him as she
hummed a little tune. He’d close his eyes and suck on
his dum-dum whilst mummy patted his well cushioned
bottom as she finished her devoted morning ritual.
Gordon no longer
remembered his past, all he knew was the present and the
affectionate attention mummy lavished on her ‘sweetums’.
In fact Gordon no longer existed, he’d become Joshua or
more exactly, Joshiwoo. Yes, that’s what mummy called
him: “My sweet little Joshiwoo - the sweetest of
sweetums in the entire world.”
He’d learned to
say ‘Mummy’ but very few real words passed his lips.
Gurgles and chuckles, bubbles and smiles were all mummy
needed from him. He’d stretched out his hands to cup his
new white bear or call for his pink rabbit and make some
baby words that had entered his head but even his
conversation with his toys was mainly babble. He might
call out for ‘Shnowy’ or ‘Bun-bun’, he knew their names
but was still learning to say them properly, but most of
his vocabulary was just one word and pointing.
sob a little even though he didn’t know why, but mummy
came and tenderly stroked his hair or gently hugged him
until whatever had caused the tears had been banished.
Sometimes the snuffles were just because he was hungry,
other times that he was saturated but mainly it was
because he loved to have his mummy play with him. His
teddy and other stuffed animals were fun and always felt
nice to hug but it was mummy he liked to hug the most.
She’d play with him and make noises that the animals or
toys made and he’d learn from repeating mummy’s words or
(nee Applegate) had been married to Doctor Joshua
Epstein for two years when tragedy struck. She was just
finishing her own nursing qualification when a huge
accident on the fog bound M1 motorway had taken the life
of her husband, which left her almost completely
destroyed. The only thing that kept her going was the
recent news that she was expecting her first child so
devoted the next few months into making sure the birth
of their baby would be a wonderful, uncomplicated
the birth had been a messy and painful experience and
her son had died just minutes after he had been welcomed
into the world. A series of neural and physical
difficulties meant that the sweet little baby boy never
drew breath and his heart-broken mother only got to hold
him for a few seconds before he was rushed away.
Angela fell into
a deep depression and for a couple of years hardly went
anywhere, spoke to anyone or allowed friends to comfort
her. She was utterly devastated. Every waking hour she
just thought of what her baby would be doing at that
moment had he survived. She’d named him Joshua after his
father but even naming him didn’t make much difference
to the deep morose feelings that seemed to engulf her.
That was until
one day, whilst walking through the city’s shopping mall
she noticed a sign on a window display saying that there
were staff vacancies. Despite everything that had
happened, this opportune moment came when she looked
into the display of clothes and baby items in
Everything4Baby and for the first time felt
happy rather than resentful. All the colourful cute
outfits and items for baby for some reason now filled
her full of pleasure and on a whim she applied for a
At the interview
she never mentioned the loss of her baby but did mention
the loss of her husband. Her nursing background was seen
as an advantage and within a week she found herself
working in an environment that once would have filled
her with sadness but now filled her with joy.
given her a job and a purpose. She loved the new mummies
coming in and excitedly buying cute new stuff for their
upcoming child. She loved suggesting items and helping
pick out little onesies, nappies, bottles and toys for
these young mothers. She was often surrounded by a sea
of babies with their parents all searching for that
specific item to make their little one ‘individual’.
Because of constant requests for that ‘unique’ or
‘designer’ item, she’d found new suppliers, designers
and clothes makers who, at a price, would create
something ‘different and special’ – perhaps
surprisingly, there was a great deal of social
one-upmanship and elitism in the world of baby clothes.
She was good at
her job and soon found that she rose up the staff
ranking and within two years was managing the branch. A
year later and she bought out the owner and set about a
series of adjustments that would develop the business
far beyond what had originally been planned.
Because of the
way she ran the enterprise, the place catered for
mummies, babies and those interested in baby stuff, even
if they weren’t quite real babies themselves.
Everything4Baby could have been
because of the diverse selection of customers who came
into the shop.
That was ten
years ago and she’d never been happier.
late night driving home she noticed a dishevelled and
sad young boy looking like he was contemplating his life
as she saw him climbing up onto the rail bridge’s safety
barrier. A shiver of concern ran through her body but
the fact that there were few people around made her slam
on the brakes and decide to try to do something.
The boy only
looked to be in his early teens, possibly thirteen or
fourteen, and immediately thought how old her own son
would have been had he lived. Her heart went out to this
obviously distressed young man. She had no idea what to
say or do once she got there nor how he’d react, it was
a matter of trying to do something rather than nothing.
Angela knew it
may already be too late and the boy may have plummeted
onto the busy rail line below but she also knew she had
to try and help him.
“What if,” she
imagined, “this had been her own son in such turmoil?”
She’d hope that some passing Samaritan would try and
They sparkle and twinkleth like
diamonds caught in starlight
Edmund White-Thomlinson (1801-1843)
sucking on his bottle. The warm liquid filling his
tum-tum and making him wriggle contentedly in mummy’s
lap. He had no concept of time or of his past life,
right now was the only thing he knew and to his mummy at
least, he appeared happy enough. She kept him warm,
safe, clean and loved.
She had poured
everything she knew, every resource possible, called in
every favour and provided all she could into giving her
new baby all the things she would have given to her own
had fate not claimed him.
She was now in
possession of a boy who had been damaged by the
consequences of his life and was in need of a new
beginning, she was going to make sure he received it.
managed to get to the highly distraught boy just seconds
before he jumped. He was surprised to see this woman
approach and a brief thought that it was someone, like
the rest of his money grabbing family and members of the
public, who wanted to taunt him. But, and this had been
the surprise, in a calm and soothing voice she had
simply said: “Please don’t jump.”
beating he’d taken from his family, friends, press and
his most recent experience, these were the first tender
and concerned words he’d heard in a long time. He was
shaking as he stood on the railings; he really didn’t
want to jump but could see no alternative to the mess
he’d made of his young life. The hate he seemed to have
generated, the nasty and vindictive personality he’d
adopted, the laughing stock he’d become – none of this
really suited him and it was time to end it all. But, he
wavered as the kindly lady reached out and simply said:
“Let’s make your life better.”
gloved hand hung in the night air as she managed to coax
the young boy down. Angela was completely unaware who he
was, he simply looked like a damaged young teen in
desperate need of help.
sucked on his dum-dum as his mummy patted his nicely
padded bottom. She’d been amazed at how much liquid he
was able to produce but now, several weeks in, she liked
the look of her well-cushioned ‘son’ and the number of
stuffers in his nappy certainly made him bulky but, as
she smiled to herself, incredibly cute. His plastic
pants were tight under the dinosaur onesie he wore to
keep everything snug but it also helped the soft
rustling sound as he shuffled about. Angela just loved
to observe Joshiwoo as he played, napped and lived his
new unencumbered life.
“This is how it
should have been.” She thought as Gordon became Joshua
and she was able to be a proper mother to her ‘little’
one. Both had a new take on life; a new deal, a new
reason to be alive… a brand new start.
When Angela had
got the disturbed boy home he was shaking, tired and
completely exhausted. She thought, whatever he’d been
through, it must have been something quite traumatic. He
was dirty, wretched and looked like a he could use a
meal but, as he sat in her lounge; all he really wanted
was to sleep. Without much thought other than helping
the poor boy she suggested he take a bath and then, if
he wanted, have a nice long sleep. Gordon was thankful
for the suggestion and grateful for the offer of
somewhere to stay for the night and, above all else,
that he didn’t have to explain anything there and then.
A warm bath and a bed were just what he needed.
relaxed for the first time in many months he let the
warm embrace of the bath soothe his troubled mind.
Meanwhile, Angela was busy making up the bed in the
other room, the room that would have been Joshua’s. It
was, despite the passage of time, still full of many of
the nursery items she had bought all those years ago.
Lying unmade against the far wall was the crib in which
he would have spent those first few months of his life
and a tremor ran through her body. Tears sprung to her
eyes and she wept for her loss… it wasn’t the first time
and she doubted it would be the last.
She went back to
the bathroom to check on her guest and saw that he had
fallen asleep. She smiled and returned to the room to
make space for the inflatable mattress she manoeuvred
into the place and added sheets and a blanket.
When she’d finished she looked around the room,
it still had very much the nursery and baby look;
cartoon characters, baby animals in diapers, mobiles and
loads of fluffy animals, toys, blankets and the soft,
subdued lighting she though a baby might need.
selection of baby blankets she quickly made up the bed.
It may not be what a teenager might want to sleep on but
with all the soft fleecy material it certainly looked
comfy. A thought flashed into her head – should she make
him wear a nappy? It might have been because she was
already in a hyped up state, being back in her child’s
nursery but that weird thought seemed to come out of
It was true that
whenever she ventured into the nursery all the ‘what
might have been’ came flooding back. Even though the
room never got to experience a child sleeping and
playing in it there was an atmosphere of baby powder and
infant about the place.
for a few brief seconds in her head and, in her mind’s
eye, she saw herself putting baby Joshua into a pair.
She smiled at the thought but quickly realised her guest
was hardly likely to wet the bed and didn’t think it a
problem if he did, the inflatable was made of plastic so
very little could be ruined. It had been a strange and
unusual few moments, besides, she doubted if any of the
baby stuff she had would fit a boy the size of the one
snoozing in her bath.
She laughed at
her own silly thoughts and went to retrieve the
A heap of filthy
clothes piled on the chair needed sorting, there wasn’t
much but far too dirty for him to sleep in. She decided
to wash and dry them but was surprised to see a set of
keys, a phone and a bunch of coins sat on top of the
pile. The phone wasn’t turned on so might have been
broken and if what she saw was the sum total of the
boy’s money, he really was in a bad way. Anyway, none of
it mattered at that moment so went off to find some
pyjamas or shorts or ‘something’ he could wear.
minutes searching she’d found very little that might be
appropriate but a pair of her own flowery thick cotton
winter PJs and some white cotton knickers she hadn’t
worn in years. She decided that they would do
temporarily and, after putting his dirty clothes into
the washer, went and woke her sleepy soaking guest.
He took some
rousing from the bath but eventually she was able to
help him up and, after offering him a fresh towel, left
him to dry off. He didn’t appear that bothered that a
complete stranger was taking care of him and, seemed
more than grateful, for the underwear and even the
floral jammy bottoms. Her kindness and sympathy was just
what he needed so was content to be warm and clean with
someone fussing around him, it had been a while.
The lighting in
the bedroom was low and as she guided him towards the
temporary inflatable. She apologised for not having a
proper bed but assured him that others who had slept on
it in the past had found it quite comfortable. He
was really too tired to worry and just glad of a place
to lie down, he would have happily stayed in the bath
had she left him.
She reminded him
where the toilet was in case he needed it during the
night and jokingly added that if he wet the bed then it
would be nappies in future. A quizzical expression
passed over his features (he hadn’t noticed the nursery
print wall paper and the room’s other juvenile
trappings), she giggled embarrassingly letting him know
she was only making fun.
well-tuckered out and, as the room was pleasantly warm
lay out on the blankets, curled up into the foetal
position, and almost immediately started drifting off to
A quiet “Thank
you” escaped his lips as he snuggled against the fleecy
blankets. He slipped the soft material with the childish
motifs over his body as a huge relaxed sigh and wiggle
to get comfortable brought the evening as far as he was
concerned to a close.
she reached out and stroked his hair.
Kneeling next to
his bed she watched for a few moments as he settled down
and soon his shallow breathing signalled he was asleep.
Her heart once again went out to this poor little guy as
she wondered what had driven him to contemplate suicide.
However, at the same time she pondered this, she
was also thinking of her lost baby and as she looked
down on her sleeping visitor, all she really saw was her
Her heart welled
up and she sobbed wishing that this poor boy was indeed
her little boy and she could look after him and make
sure he’d come to no further harm. As she looked on he
lay there tightly cuddling the fleecy blanket in his
left hand whilst his right made its way to his lips. She
watched with a smile on her face as he soothed whatever
worries he had with the aid of his spit soaked thumb.
Joshua.” She whispered and kissed his head.
“As you grow the small child within
is not holding you back but offering a place to heal”
Mohammed Devwhalli (1901 -2000)
was wet, very wet as he woke from his nap. He clutched ‘Sh-nowy’
tightly and its soft white fleecy coat tickled his face
as he slowly returned to wakefulness. Almost immediately
his mummy was by his side and letting down the bars of
the crib, checking her boy’s night time protection and
beamed with pleasure as she helped him get to his feet.
He tried to return his happiness at seeing mummy again
by smiling round his dummy but all that achieved was
more drool dripping onto his brightly coloured onesie,
his chest was almost as wet as his nappy.
This was baby
Joshua’s favourite part of the day when mummy cleaned
him up, tickled and played fun games, bathed and dressed
him. He’d giggle almost continually until she’d help him
downstairs for something to eat. Sometime, if he’d had a
restless night and was still half asleep, mummy would
hold him in her arms whilst he drank his formula from a
bottle. Once he’d sucked it all down she’d burp him and
then put him down so he could sleep until he was ready
to face the day. There was little point in changing him
until then as he always wet when he slept and all that
formula had to go somewhere. Mummy made sure the thick
soak pads added to his nappy would keep him from
completely flooding his cot.
Angela knew that
she should be trying to get in touch with the boy’s
parents so that they were aware he was OK. However,
because he’d been in such a state she thought it better
to wait, have a chat with her guest and then decide on
who needed to be informed. Once this decision had been
made she settled down on her sofa to catch up on some
paperwork. It was very late. The events of the evening
had eaten into the time but there were still things for
work she had to do before the morning.
As she examined
the various bills, quotes, designs, worksheets etc.
progress was very slow because her mind kept returning
to the poor lad upstairs. She’d rescued the boy but now
felt some kind of responsibility to him and his family.
Her concentration level was poor until she happened on a
bill from one of her ‘specialist’ firms. This small firm
produced bespoke, original items in any size and had
quickly become one of the main suppliers to her
‘alternative’ baby customers.
When she’d first
embarked on this side of furnishing the needs for this
group of customers, she had to source the companies
herself, check if they were up for making the items
requested and then agreeing a supply chain, delivery
dates and, most importantly, happy customers. All these
points were achieved with relative ease and it could be
said she was one of the few such providers in the
county. Everything4Baby had quickly become
the place to shop for such a market and,
the once-a-month late night private shopping, had proved
both popular and a location where like-minded people
could meet and discuss their predilection - babies
during the day, ABDL at night.
Now as she
examined the bill and the items ordered her mind focused
on what it would be like to have something similar
herself. It was for an adult crib with lockable sides
and a deep soft plastic mattress with a baby duckling
design. The person who requested it also wanted an
entire set of bedding and baby clothes to match. It was
a huge, expensive order but she had been able to
coordinate all the different suppliers to work together
and produce a superb finished product where all the
component parts worked in harmony. She was justly proud
of what the happy customer received and he, rightly, was
nothing but praise as word spread throughout the
fitfully that night. Her mind full of adult babies and
the charming little get ups they wore. She’d often
passed comment on how wonderful they all looked in their
baby clothes: The made-to-measure nappies, shiny vinyl
pants, dresses, onesies, pjs, colourful vests, bibs,
cartoon all-in-ones, indeed, even the suppliers were
delighted with this new, demanding and growing outlet
for their pricey but high-end creations.
her dream started incorporating her visitor she
struggled against the idea – it was stupid, insane, and
probably even against the law and, more to the point,
RECKLESS. However, dreams being dreams, the thought
lingered and she became captive in a life, a dream life,
which had him at its centre but as a baby.
When she woke up
she was most uncomfortable with what was in her head.
opened his bedroom door and was surprised to see that
he’d hardly moved in the night. He was still lying on
top of the blankets although one was now gripped tightly
against his body but she detected the tell-tale smell of
urine. Despite her thinking it wouldn’t happen she soon
realised that her guest hadn’t made it to the bathroom
and could see the outline of the ‘tidemark’ around his
floral cotton PJs. He was still fast asleep.
shook him awake. It took a while but eventually managed
to get him to near consciousness as he looked around
unsure of his bearings.
“Sorry to wake
you, er, erm, er,sweetie ,” she was a bit hesitant
because she still didn’t know his name. “I have to go to
work but, if you want to stay in bed, I’ll be home
He yawned and
stretched but was still unbelievably tired.
“Er, OK.” He
simply acknowledged her offer to stay in her home for a
little longer; after all, he didn’t have anywhere else
“Yer, er, I
could do with some more sleep… thank you.”
He mumbled but
smiled his thanks and waited for her to leave.
As she hesitated
at the door he suddenly realised that she might actually
have some doubts about leaving him alone.
“Oh, your stuff
will be alright, I’m not a thief and I’m grateful to you
“No, no, it’s
not that,” Now it was Angela’s turn to feel she needed
to explain. “It’s just…”
became aware of the pool of smelly dampness he was lying
Christsake, what the fuc…”
“No, no don’t
worry… I… er, we can…”
She saw him
fling back the blanket he was clutching and look down at
his soaked jammy bottoms and the urine soaked sheet he’d
been lying on. The plastic inflatable mattress making
sure no further harm was done but that also meant
however much his bladder released had now soaked into
He looked up at
her and his irate expression changed to one of distress
and regret. In that brief moment he’d changed from an
angry young man into a sad little boy. His face screwed
up in abject failure and was almost on the verge of
letting his tearful emotions take control. It wasn’t a
clever contrived reaction to his damp situation, it was
For a few
seconds there were no further exchanges, they were both
a little overawed by what had happened. Eventually, he
looked around the room and gave her an apologetic smile.
“I suppose if
I’m going to piss myself, at least I’m in the right
place to do so… you’d better get the nappies ready.”
last line was said as a joke his mind immediately
slipped back to ‘There and Then - Here and Now’
the reality TV show he’d appeared on.
It was roughly
an updated, 24/7 version of the popular ‘Big Brother’
franchise with live and recorded segments broadcast
(though which segment was recorded and which part live
was never relayed to the contestants) of course there
was also tasks to be completed daily. Each player gained
points every twenty four hours depending on how well
they ‘performed’; this was done by phone votes and
logged on-line responses. Once the contestant was voted
out of the house, their accrued points were available
and up for grabs, which the public could then, via a
live phone in, allocate to other members of the cast.
involvement from viewers had seen the show top the
ratings and become the ‘must watch’ programme on TV. The
newspapers ran an almost blow by blow account of the
outrageous behaviour of the contestants, who became
instant celebrities, whilst the public in general just
couldn’t get enough of it… especially as they could
submit tasks to be performed.
was one of the segments of the re-vamped show the public
liked best because they could actually appear on it via
social media and suggest what was to happen. Although
these bits looked ‘live’ they were in fact recorded so
as to give the production crew time to get any props
suggestion was to split the house into two - one side to
be mummies and daddies, whilst the other had to be
babies. Of course, as it turned out Gordon ended up
being a baby and was suitably dressed. His small frame
gave him an advantage and his bulky nappy, shiny plastic
pants and frilly bonnet seemed just perfect for him as
the challenge got underway.
He took to the
part like a duck to water and immersed himself in the
antics of a baby. He was convincing and, with his little
tubby tummy on show and the huge protection that the
cameras just loved to constantly feature, he was the one
the audience adored.
The public loved
this feature and called in with ideas for what they
should wear, what they should be fed and the babyish
games they should play. And, whereas the other ‘babies’
baulked at some of the suggestions; Gordon played the
part to the fullest. On more than one occasion what they
were dressed in bordered on the fetish rather than
adolescent, whilst the outrageous bulky nappies, satin
dresses or juvenile onesies were just too much for some.
Those who were
acting babies were not allowed to speak but could only
make their wishes known by crying, pointing and
gurgling. The six other babies were hopeless but Gordon
proved to be a winner and made front page news in his
cute baby outfit with this particular task when he wet
and messed himself live on air.
What the public
were not aware of was that his ‘accident’ was just that.
He hadn’t meant for it to happen but, a long nap,
together with some rather dubious baby food and drink
had led to a spectacular reaction. The stunned and
confused expression on his face (and the tears that
followed) was something that no one could ignore.
The public were
appalled and delighted, the ratings soared and Gordon
won infamy as well as the public vote.
It was he who walked away with the £250,000 prize
at the end of the show.
Despite all this
public affirmation and notoriety the programme had
passed Angela by. She had of course heard of it but
hated reality shows and rarely watched TV. She was also
not in the least bit bothered about gossip (celebrity or
otherwise) or indeed any sort of ‘popular culture’ so
the fortunes of the shows ‘stars’ had come and gone
without so much as a comment from her.
She still had no
idea who this soaked boy in her spare room was but who,
at that moment, looked even more pathetic than he had
when standing on the bridge preparing to commit suicide.
His slim pale body, shaggy hair and big brown eyes doing
nothing to confirm he was an adult. He really did look
like a small child confused by the way his bladder had
let him down. He had no excuse for why he wet the bed
and possibly ruined a kindly woman’s patience… for a
brief moment he wished he’d taken up her jokey reference
to wearing a nappy.
This was not the
first time he’d wet himself, and not just on the TV
show, that was one of the many things his ‘loving’
family were able to torment him about. He was constantly
bullied by his family and being the youngest and
smallest, he was an easy target. His occasional bouts of
incontinence also added to the vast amount of abuse the
boy suffered all his life… he was the butt of everyone’s
He had no idea
the reaction his stupid bodily malfunction would garner
from this guardian angel.
part, she knew he needed time to heal from whatever had
driven him to contemplate that final act of self
destruction. His pissing the bed only added to the boy’s
vulnerability and further evidence he needed to be cared
I fear a future that has no future
Izzy Downing (1980 - ) from the poem
worry about anything.”
around the nursery and thought he was right, it was the
correct place to do it if you were going to pee your
“I have to go to
work but, your clothes are in the washer and should be
dry in a short while. If you can put all this stuff on
at some point,” she said indicating the wet bedding,
“I’d be very grateful.”
she said as an afterthought, “if you want to go, please
just drop the latch as you leave, but, should you want
to take some time to think or… talk, I’ll be back at
lunchtime and we can chat then. After all, I don’t even
know your name.”
believe he hadn’t been recognised although in truth, he
did look different now than he had when he was in the
show. He was both suspicious and relieved that his
identity was unknown and wondered how he could spin this
anonymity to his advantage.
“OK, and, if
that’s alright with you… I’d like to stay a little
longer to try and get my head in order… and a chat at
lunchtime sounds fine.”
He smiled and
then as if to bring the conversation to an end looked
down at the mess he’d made and grimaced.
“I’ll have this
all cleaned up by the time you return.”
It was a busy
half-day in the shop for Angela. It seemed that everyone
in town who was pregnant had decided to pay a visit and
she was rushed off her feet. She didn’t mind that amount
of business, she didn’t mind the questions, nor did she
mind the continuous nervous and excited requests for
advice and information. As manager/owner of
Everything4Baby she was used to being asked
everything from infant fashion guidance to relationship
problems. It was that type of store and the reason why
it had become so successful. Nevertheless, by 1pm she
was completely shattered and ready to get home having in
the past few hours temporarily forgotten about her
she left she grabbed a couple of items from the
storeroom and put in a call to one of her ‘specialist’
Once home she
was pleased to find him dressed and watching TV with a
mug of coffee by his side.
To Angela he
looked even more like a young teenager; his now clean,
if ripped, jeans and Call of Duty t-shirt, mop of
ill-kempt hair, bare feet and nervous nod of
acknowledgement only making him appear like a schoolboy
smiled and carried things through to the kitchen.
decided to stay for a while.” She called over her
engrossed in the programme but looked up and smiled as
she zipped through the living room and up the stairs.
“Yer, yer, er, I
think I need time to, er, think… if that’s OK with you?”
He called back to her.
into her bedroom but carried on the conversation… only a
Have you eaten?” Her voice carried from the bedroom as
she slipped off her coat and sorted out some of the
items she’d brought home.
“I had some
toast earlier, I’m not really hungry… er, can I get you
a coffee, tea or something? You look like you’ve had a
immediately she was back down stairs and into the living
would be nice and yes… it has been very hectic.”
himself in the kitchen boiling up the kettle, putting
tea in the teapot, putting milk in a jug, although his
brief search didn’t turn up any sugar. He saw there was
one bone china cup and saucer and correctly assumed that
was how she preferred her tea served. She was a stylish
lady so no doubt drank her tea with a degree of finesse
and that classy crockery, he thought, suited her just
right. Meanwhile, Angela settled herself on the sofa and
was looking forward to having a nice chat.
Joshiwoo lay on
the carpet in front of the TV watching cartoons and
burbling away to ‘Sh-nowy’. He was wearing only
his little t-shirt and thick protection, his yellow
plastic pants crinkling noisily as he swayed from side
to side in time to the music. He was ‘singing’ along to
the melody whilst watching the colourful characters
light up the screen.
His mummy really
loved it when she could see her boy enjoying himself in
such a way, it made it all worthwhile. Whatever doubts
she may have once had, they were swept away by the sheer
pleasure he gave her and the unconditional love she
could shower on him.
Once he’d served
tea Gordon came and sat down next to Angela. She turned
off the TV and smiled.
She offered her
hand and he took it.
“Pleased to meet
you Angela, er, I’m Terry.” Gordon lied.
“Pleased to meet
you too Terry.”
She noticed that
his t-shirt didn’t quite reach to top of his jeans. The
waistband of his clean but ancient underwear was just
visible and his little pale tummy appeared more apparent
because of this revealing gap. Perhaps it was just her
but this made him seem even more defenceless. Again,
Angela desperately wanted to wrap him in her arms and
let him know all was well, to take away any pain or hurt
he had suffered and return him to a life of childish
As they chatted
the story that ‘Terry’ wanted to tell slowly emerged. If
she really didn’t know who he was (and she hadn’t given
any indication she did) he thought he’d spin a story of
She asked him if
he shouldn’t let his family know he was OK, they might
be worried but he countered with the fact that it was
his abusive family he was escaping from.
He lay on the
abuse, sexual as well as mental, which wasn’t too far
away from the truth (although the sexual abuse came
later and not from his family). However, the fact was
that his family were a bunch of nasty, self-serving,
money-grabbing, thoughtless, vindictive degenerates who
had loved Gordon’s fame and the money that success
brought so who went all out to exploit him, and it, to
the fullest. The fact that it all but destroyed him
didn’t even register on their collective consciousness,
they just saw the money.
Angela was listening little Terry was struggling with
his tale. She could see the emotion just pour out and
watched as he wriggled uncomfortably with some of his
descriptions. Of course she believed everything he said,
and most of it was true except he left out certain
pieces of the jigsaw. No mention of the TV programme,
the public humiliation or his later encounters with
people even worse than his family passed his lips, he
kept it all at a family level.
Since he was a
toddler the constant put downs, malicious words,
spiteful actions and the relentless air of malevolence
had been his unceasing companion. No childhood bliss for
this boy. No ‘sweetness and light’ mother to comfort and
cherish him. Apart from the fact he was the youngest so
obviously an easy target, the reason they constantly put
him down was because he was different. He did have a
spark of kindness, affability, empathy and understanding
but this showed his family up for what they were.
Whenever this side of Gordon raised its head, the rest
saw it as their duty to mock and mistreat him until he
they would no longer be confronted by something that was
No. No. No.
siblings alike goaded their innocent little brother into
becoming a monster. Because he’d been successful on TV
and was a celeb they encouraged him to get an attitude,
to demand rather than ask and to be as awful as they
were, unfortunately for him, he took their advice.
That was when
his descent into oblivion started.
It was them he
was terrified of and, although he didn’t go into too
much detail, what he left unsaid, Angela was able to
fill in those horrifyingly painful blanks herself. He
alluded to other things since he’d escaped from home and
how he’d really screwed up elsewhere in his life. Again,
specifics were left to her own imagination. Angela
couldn’t understand how such a young boy could have so
many troubles but as the story unfolded the reasons
became apparent. The essentials were missing but it left
his host in no doubt that her guest was the victim of
some shocking and disturbing events.
At one point his
tears flowed and Angela comforted the poor boy hugging
him through the worst of this emotional black spot. The
tears had been real when Gordon realised just how
completely abandoned and destitute he really was. He was
so alone and broken that when the opportunity arose,
clung to anyone who seemed to understand his situation.
Alas, the last
people he had confided in had been only too pleased to
find such an amiable ‘toy’ they could use and abuse.
His celebrity had been a bonus as they
kept him prisoner and sexually used and abused him for a
few days. By the time they had finished, the boy that
was already broken was just an empty shell who
understood once and for all he was worthless. Their
actions, together with all that had gone before,
destroyed his spirit. The feeling of utter uselessness
had driven him to that final decision; the only way to
stop his suffering was to end it all.
Angela was in
tears herself by the time he’d finished explaining what
had happened. She was both angry and sad at what the
youngster had been through and railed against how
terrible people were to take advantage of someone else’s
suffering; especially such a defenceless young boy. So,
his reasons for suicide were powerful and why he was in
no rush to let anyone know where he was equally
He was so very
grateful to have someone, after so much pain, to
actually care. Because of her kindness and concern in
his darkest hour, he literally owed her his life. He
wanted to disappear but, and this was down to Angela, he
no longer wanted to kill himself.
As the story of
his hateful family revealed more and more dysfunction,
she began to feel very protective of this sad looking
teenager. She still assumed he must be about the same
age Joshua would have been had he lived, fourteen, but
never got around to asking him his real age. She did ask
if he’d thought about going to Social Services for help
but he shrugged and said his mother always said that’s
where they’d send him if he ever revealed anything about
In their house
Social Services was regarded as the enemy and a place to
be avoided; full of stress, horror and anxiety, staffed
by hateful perverts and certainly more unpleasant than
what he was already used to. The bullying family had
certainly planted the notion he’d get no help from them.
He had a deeper fear of Social Services than of his own
He said he was
scared of what might happen if anyone knew he was still
around and begged Angela not to tell anyone. That fear
of being discovered and sent back to a life so abusive
he shook with dread as he pleaded with her to keep his
secret. He urgently wanted to become
invisible so that to all intents and purposes he no
longer existed. He wanted time to think and hopefully
find some solution and perhaps start again… though
exactly how he was to accomplish this he had no idea.
smiled when he looked deep into Angela’s eyes, as far as
he was concerned she had lived up to her name because
like an angel she’d rescued him. It was an emotional
moment that wasn’t in the least insincere; it was an
honest reaction to what had happened over the last
twenty-four hours or so.
She felt it as
There was a bond
between them and it was getting mixed up in her mind.
One second she could deal with this teenager with ease,
knowing what was needed and what to do. The next moment,
she only saw her son Joshua and desperately wanted to
mother him and keep him safe.
He had asked
what she did for a living, so happily explained about
her ‘little baby clothes shop’. The mention of ABDL
stuff was left out of the conversation but she did
allude to her ‘growing’ group of customers and how much
she enjoyed the ‘fascinating’ world of babies.
She didn’t want
to go into any great explanation about living on her own
but the observant little chap had noticed her wedding
ring so simply confirmed that her husband had died. She
didn’t enlighten him any further and wisely he realised
it might be a prohibited area for discussion.
maternal feeling had been getting stronger the more time
they spent chatting and foolishly she was getting
comfortable with a ridiculous notion forming in her
brain. An idea that was simply not practical or how
things worked in the real world.
was a feeling she’d had from the moment she’d coaxed him
down from that bridge. When she thought about it, she’d
already done things that were primarily, if
unconsciously, aimed at ‘Terry’ being part of her family
in some way or other.
couldn’t really keep him from a cruel world, every fibre
of her body told her he needed protection and she felt
almost compelled to be the one to do just that.
They talked for
ages. Time didn’t seem to matter and ‘Terry’ was able to
keep up his temporary façade simply because Angela saw
no need to doubt or challenge him on anything he said.
Over a hastily prepared meal he explained what he really
wished for was a brand new start. He wished for a place
where his family didn’t exist, where no one knew him and
somewhere he felt safe. He looked at Angela with his
huge innocent eyes and her heart melted.
Despite the fact
that she knew she shouldn’t be holding such thoughts,
Angela wondered how easy it would be to grant that wish.
To keep this scared boy in her protection. To keep him
away from railway lines and that feeling of futility
she’d observed when he hung nervously onto that bridge.
This was not the act of an attention seeker; this was
the last despairing act by someone who had come to the
end of their reasoning. It was the final act of escape.
could provide a better finale.
chat got less and less as tiredness crept in to their
conversation. It was time for bed. Angela realised that
she hadn’t checked in the nursery or made ‘Terry’ a bed
for the night and was surprised that he’d already made
up the inflatable mattress.
“I wasn’t sure
if… after last night’s, er, accident, that you’d let me
stay another night”
shamefully at the ground.
sorry about that but, well, er, I couldn’t help it, I,
“Not to worry.”
He was grateful she had interrupted his apology.
It was difficult
for him to admit that it wasn’t the first time to happen
and also knew he couldn’t guarantee it wouldn’t happen
again. He just hoped that he would be able to get to the
toilet in time.
She checked the
bed was made up to her satisfaction. He’d piled all the
clean and dry fleecy blankets he could find on top
because they’d made him feel incredibly comfortable and
“OK Terry,” he
appeared at least to have the bedding sorted, although
no doubt his brain would take a little longer to be
equally as well organised.
Now she could
see he was organised in some way that made her feel sad.
She wanted to think of him as a helpless toddler reliant
on her for everything.
She also wished
she’d been able to use some of the items she’d brought
home from work; the pack of disposables and the large
plastic pants. In her mind she already saw his
well-padded bottom snuggling down under the fleecy pale
blue blanket but alas reality returned.
Angela had no
idea how she expected to get him to wear such items but
that impulsiveness to bring them home in the first place
made her think perhaps it was something he might need.
As it turned
out, the morning proved just that.
A dream may inspire - so should never
Dr Aaron Livitt (1900 – 1973)
“Oh Josh… er,
aghast at the smell of pee and the fact that all the
baby blankets were soaked and strewn in wet lumps around
the inflatable mattress. ‘Terry’ was just coming round
and had no real idea what was going on as nothing quite
registered at that point.
Judging by the
state of the bedding her guest probably had a very
disturbed night. He also must have pissed a couple of
gallons around the place for everything to get so
saturated. The warmth of the room only emphasised the
smell but he seemed oblivious to what had happened.
He lay there all
but naked wearing only his soaked and stinky underpants
as Angela busied herself in drawing back the blinds and
opening a window. A cool gust of wind agitated the air
and sent a shiver briefly across the wet boy’s body. It
was that cooling shock which woke him up to realise what
he’d done. In remarkable quick succession of expressions
- horror, confusion and sadness - crossed his face. He
knew he was in trouble, thinking no one would put up
with an adult pissing the bed.
coming to terms with his damp situation Angela couldn’t
help but think she already had the solution to the
“OK mister,” she
picked up a few of the soaked items. “This isn’t going
to happen again.”
she admonished him as if he was a toddler because, in
her eyes, she thought of him as a young teenager not an
adult. He didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, guilt let
soaked but any excuse he hoped to come up with was a
nonstarter because there wasn’t one he could offer to
explain why this happened for a second time.
She looked in
his bleary, almost tearful eyes and saw only despondency
as he tried to emerge from a rather deep and what had
been to him at least a rather peaceful sleep. Indeed,
the last two nights had proved wonderful for his ability
to sleep without any anxious thoughts, stress or fear.
So, when Angela hinted that precautions would be taken
in future he simply accepted it.
sorry, I, er, ermmmmm, sorry.” His voice was feeble and
filled with dejection.
He’d slept with
a warm glow making him feel safe and secure; he hadn’t
worked out that maybe that ‘glow’ wasn’t just an
internal feeling but a physical one as well.
He tried to
think why he’d pissed himself again. Once could have
been an accident but a second time just seemed laziness.
There were no dreams he could remember that might have
caused it, all he could remember was that as he slept he
was no longer concerned about anything. Indeed, the room
was at a pleasant temperature, the fleecy blankets cosy,
the bouncy mattress comfortable; he’d slept in a haze of
utter contentment. He was at a place, and more
importantly, with someone who cared, so, after the year
he’d had this was an unbelievable bonus. He didn’t want
it to end by alienating the one person who’d stretched
out a helping hand.
The open window
allowing a cool breeze to circulate the room drew
attention to ‘Terry’s’ soaked underwear; his limp penis
damply outlined as the white discoloured material stuck
against genitals and pubic hair. He felt guilty and
tried to cover up but of course Angela had seen all
there was to see and wasn’t impressed. Guilt turned to
apprehension, he certainly didn’t want to leave this
safe haven and find himself back out in a world he’d so
recently wanted to depart.
She may be an
angel but… even angels must have a natural abhorrence of
pissy people so realised, if he proved too much of a
burden, that he couldn’t rely on her understanding to
keep a place in the house.
He nodded at the
inferred changes, although she didn’t say what, as she
picked up all the damp stuff.
As she inspected
one of the scrunched-up, wet fleecy sheets a little sigh
escaped her lips. It wasn’t aimed at ‘Terry’ but he
caught what that sound might suggest. In fact, she was
merely remembering when she’d bought it - the day after
she’d been told of her pregnancy and in a deliriously
happy mood had seen it in a shop window and bought it on
Angela went to
the bathroom and returned with a hand towel. She pointed
to his groin indicating his underwear needed to join
everything else in the wash. Feeling greatly embarrassed
he sheepishly removed and handed them over. He could
barely make eye contact he felt so small, stupid and
babyish. Wetting again had literally dampened any of the
confidence he was getting back.
She left the
room with a pile of washing and a raised eyebrow as he
timidly held the small piece of fabric against his
genitals. To Angela this image just confirmed once again
what a shy, innocent and tragic little boy she had under
temperature had certainly dropped a few degrees; this
was partly due to the open window but mainly to the
shame he was feeling. Of course, standing around naked
didn’t help. He shivered and wondered if because of this
incident he’d have to leave.
His body shook
at the thought, whilst his breathing became strained and
his chest tightened. There was a sudden rush of fear
because he was scared of being out in public again… he
wasn’t ready. His head was filled with worry and
unexpectedly his panic attack resulted in something
contracted and a stream of warm golden piss flooded the
towel pressed against his lower extremities.
“Oh for fuck’s
He took a shower
and hoped to feel better when finished. As he scrubbed
away the debris of his wet night, and surreptitiously
wrung out the freshly washed towel, he reviewed the
conversation and thought that Angela’s words hadn’t
actually meant he was being thrown out, which was a
great relief. However, he also knew she rightly had some
concerns and decided to comply with whatever was
requested. He thought it only fair and besides, for the
moment, he had no better plans and nowhere else to go.
He realised he needed her to continue to care.
When he returned
to the nursery everything had been picked up. All that
was left was the grey inflated plastic mattress, which
he’d found surprisingly comfy to sleep on. The damp
sheets and blankets had all been removed and the place
was left looking more like a child’s nursery than it had
appeared before. She’d also given the room
a quick spray of air freshener, which certainly helped.
As if seeing it
for the first time he really investigated the room. The
paper on the walls, the soft pastel colours and the
images of baby animals in nappies were all really quite
endearing. He was suddenly jealous of their innocence,
half of him wished he could turn back the clock but then
remembered his childhood hadn’t been all that wonderful.
However, those smiling, happy images made him wish for
about the unmade crib and whilst nosing around in the
drawers and closet noticed baby clothes and toys. He
took out and examined one of the small white onesies
that again was incredibly soft but so tiny only a new
baby would fit into. He wasn’t sure if they were for a
particular infant, or items from her shop.
She hadn’t told
him about her lost child although they had talked about
her husband and ‘Terry’ thought that perhaps his Good
Samaritan might be pleased to have company for a little
while. Although she seemed happy and organised he had
wondered if she might be a bit lonely to have taken him
in so readily.
However, as he
dried himself down he deliberated if she had kids of her
own. She hadn’t mentioned it but the nursery setting
meant she had, or was thinking about, babies. He was
still thinking of that when he looked around for his
As he’d arrived
at Angela’s home wearing only the clothes on his back,
his choice of attire was limited. He still had his jeans
and shirt piled on a chair where he’d dumped them the
previous night. However, also set out on the dresser,
next to his phone, keys and small pile of change, were
the washed white knickers and PJ bottoms she’d given him
the night he arrived. They were a lot more comfortable
to wear around the house so slipped into them and,
barefooted, made his way to the kitchen.
“My er, the
spare room, the er, nursery… is that for your baby or
stuff from work?”
Angela knew that
this observation would come at some point but was
conflicted about telling the truth.
from the shop.”
She decided on
keeping the real reason to herself, even though some of
that stuff had been around for fourteen years or more.
“I keep some
things to check details, quality, you know, and make
reports back to the suppliers.”
She wasn’t sure
if he believed her but it sounded plausible.
“What about the
“Er, well, er,
it was like that when I took this place on and I, well,
I thought it looked cute so just haven’t got around to
re-doing that room yet.”
through her lie hoping it would be the end of that
particular line of questions. It was.
said sheepishly, “I’m so sorry about all the extra work
I made for you last night. I don’t mind doing the
washing myself, I don’t see why you should be
inconvenienced. I mean, you took me in and, er, this is
not the payment you probably expected.”
Angela looked at
him in a strange and irritated way.
“I didn’t… and
don’t expect any payment.”
“You needed help
and I was pleased I could offer it and… and… there is no
rush on this… when you feel able to, I’m hopeful you’ll
get on with your young life in a happier frame of mind.”
streamed from her mouth but it was apparent she was
angry at the very suggestion of some kind of payment.
‘Terry’ gulped at the gaffe he realised he’d made.
“I didn’t mean
that the way it came out.” He looked guiltily down at
his bare feet.
“I meant, erm,
it was a poor way for me to repay your kindness by
giving your more work… erm.. er... Oh, I’m sorry if it
came out any other way.”
pleased that he was a bit on the defensive because she
hoped it would end the ‘nursery’ discussion. However,
the main reason she was angry was that some kind of
‘payment’ had crossed her mind but probably not in a way
‘Terry’ would have thought.
sweetheart, I’m sorry I jumped down your throat.”
She smiled an
“Of course you
didn’t mean anything by it and you don’t have to worry.
You can stay here until you are ready to move on. We
need to get you that ‘new start’ you said you wanted.”
She ran her hand
down the chastised boy’s arm in a friendly manner.
“Now… what would
you like for breakfast?”
Take your destiny out of the hands of
house was bigger than something a single person might
need. She and husband Joshua had fallen in love with its
rural cuteness and proximity to the city: it seemed to
have the best of both worlds. After his death, and the
death of their child, she couldn’t bear to part with the
only thing that linked them all together, so she stayed
and her love for the place had increased with time. She
couldn’t imagine living anywhere else and, thanks to the
huge insurance pay out, she didn’t need to find anywhere
That was partly
why she never re-furnished the much hoped for nursery.
It was that one contact between them all and she simply
hadn’t wanted to change things. Joshua, her darling
doctor husband, had loved decorating the room ready for
their first child. He’d done it on whim just two days
after he’d been told the news Angela was expecting, and
only a week before he died so tragically.
No, the room
stayed as it was and how it should have been. Those
sweet little animals wearing nappies were just typical
of her hubby. He was thoughtful, loving and soppy; all
the things that had made Angela fall for him in the
The property was
a large, three bedroom detached house at the bottom of a
cul-de-sac. It had plenty of land
around it and the large back garden led down to a fence
that separated it from a rough piece of common land full
of weeds and tall grass. Downstairs the house had a
large kitchen that led through to a utility room and
garage on one side, whilst the other had a nice sized
lounge and a similar sized dining room. Upstairs was
Angela’s en-suite main bedroom, a small box-room,
another family bathroom and a further two similar sized
bedrooms. One had the nursery, the other, which would
have been the child’s play-area, was full of junk Angela
hadn’t got around to sorting out or throwing away.
From the moment
she saw the young man about to commit suicide Angela’s
submerged maternal feelings had surfaced. She wasn’t
totally aware at the time but there was no doubt about
it, she was definitely thinking nurturing thoughts about
her guest. With the revelations about his life she
became even more motherly and just wanted to protect the
boy from a world that had so cruelly dumped on him.
At work she’d
been able to keep any maternal feelings under control.
Surrounded by happy, weepy, terrified mothers (and
mothers-to-be) she saw it as her duty to be caring but
not to drown in the entire baby and baby clothing
industry. One of the things that stopped her getting
trapped in that hormonal clique was her ‘other’
customers, the ones who had a different take on the baby
She loved the
idea of grown-ups dressing and acting as toddlers or
attempting to stem the rush to adulthood of certain
children who needed more time. There appeared to be many
different reasons for the ABDL community (she now knew
her customer’s desires had a title) to want a shop like
hers and was pleased to be able to satisfy that need.
The mail order side of it alone had blossomed from
absolutely nothing into a very lucrative part of the
enterprise and Angela was satisfied with all the new
suppliers and customers it brought her into contact
with. She was surprised at just how big that particular
community actually was and intrigued by many of her
client’s requests, whilst being fascinated by the
alternative ‘babies’ and ‘toddlers’ she met in store.
As word spreads
throughout the ‘community’ these gatherings became more
and more popular. On those special Sundays mummies and
daddies brought their ‘little ones’ out for this brief,
but much needed, social meeting. Kids, teens, and middle
aged men and women, dressed in a variety of juvenile
attire and often very thick protection, would somehow
all be happily playing together, whilst their ‘carers’
looked on; exchanging stories, advice, buying new
clothes and planning other more specialist purchases.
Griffin was a rich, powerful looking man with a very
gentle way of speech. He had two young teen boys he
dressed as twin toddlers who always looked so sweet and
innocent together. In their matching little outfits they
would play together whilst ‘Daddy’ shopped. Their bulky
nappies only partly contained in tiny shiny nylon shorts
as the cuffs of their plastic pants peaked out from the
leg-holes whilst they careered around the place. He
lavished toys, gifts and the cutest of cute baby style
clothes on them, which, as far as Angela was concerned,
made them simply adorable.
Since Mr Griffin
and his boys had first entered Everything4Baby
Angela had thought them the cutest of cute
‘families’. Many of her other customers played their
part and acted as kids but this seemed more real. In
fact it was very real and it aroused her curiosity.
In a quiet
moment, when she asked him how he was able to keep them
so young and dependent on him, he confided it was down
to constant positive reinforcement of their toddler
status. Also, encouragement that they were both very
good boys, a rather wonderful subliminal audio file he’d
developed over the years and, he whispered as if it was
the biggest secret of them all, “A file of Blueline30”.
This last piece
of information stuck in her mind. She had no idea what
it was or what it might refer to but the name stuck.
Joshua was wet
It was a Sunday
afternoon and mummy needed to attend to other business
so unfortunately had to desert him for some time. She
hated leaving her Sweetums alone at all but
occasionally, especially as the company was going
through a bit of transition, it just couldn’t be helped.
He had plenty of things in his large playpen to keep him
occupied but for the last hour and a half he’d been
crying on and off because his nappy was full and
Mummy had put
him in an extra-large disposable with several thick gel
absorbency pads in the hope that it would hold him until
her return. It almost had but his rather cute little
butterfly onesie, with matching plastic pants had
reached its absorbent limits. There were four snaps at
its crotch to hold the onesie in place. Unfortunately,
the two middle ones had popped under the strain so her
little bundle of joy looked like he’d had a medical
accident. The huge bloated nappy had squeezed out of the
gap and made it look like some huge growth had appeared
between his legs. The butterfly motif on his plastic
pants looked none too happy at being put under such
He stood holding
the bars searching for any sign of mummy - his baby
coordination not allowing him any chance of escape.
Meanwhile, the pet lip and snivelling sobs made him one
very unhappy baby. The TV was running a cartoon channel
and the radio was tuned to a children’s music station,
it was hoped that between them and his toys they would
keep her little boy entertained until she returned.
A low moan
escaped the little chap’s lips as he plopped down,
exhausted from all his crying and standing, hardly
noticing the squelch as he landed on his padded bottom.
The sudden pressure on his bloated protection burst the
final two snaps and releasing his onesie, which flew up
to his chest, leaving the startled boy staring at his
swollen plastic pants.
He didn’t know
what to do so snatched up Bunny Fluffytail and clutched
her tightly. Worried about the loss of his mummy, being
alone and seeking some kind of comfort, he pushed the
stuffed animal’s ear into his mouth and sucked. He
hadn’t noticed that his dum-dum was on a ribbon pinned
to his onesie just inches away. However, Bun-Bun’s ear
was a comfort and eventually he sunk into a sleepy doze
with his head resting against the bars of the playpen.
As soon as
Angela had left for work ‘Terry’ cleaned up his mess,
shoved it in the washer and tumble dried all the
bedding. He really hated the fact that he’d wet and
promised himself it wouldn’t happen again. He also
wanted Angela to note that he wasn’t leaving everything
to her; he was quite prepared to pull his weight, if she
would let him.
He found the
vacuum cleaner and went around all the rooms lost for a
short while in the sucking up of dust and worrying about
nothing else. He left Angela’s room, thinking it would
be a bit disrespectful to enter uninvited but made a
mental note to explain why he had not ventured in.
The house wasn’t
in bad order but it was obvious that Angela was a very
busy woman and had very little time for intense
housekeeping. ‘Terry’ was happy to do his bit, cleaning
the kitchen, organising the utility room and even
ironing some of the items once they were dry. It didn’t
take him long and once he’d plumped up the cushions, was
happy to just lounge around with nothing more taxing
than decide which TV channel to watch.
Whilst her guest
had that to decide, Angela was in the throes of starting
to make some significant changes to her work life. She
had resolved that ‘Terry’ was too precious to leave to
the vagaries of chance. He had met with nothing but
abuse and harm his entire existence and was determined,
one way or another, to change that for him. She was
angry that such a sweet natured teenager should have
suffered so much in his young life.
As it was an
opportunity arose for her to find out a little more
about this ABDL thing that was now occupying a great
deal of her business. A supplier had sent an order to
the shop instead of direct to the customer. It was a
pair of matching shortalls that Daddy Griffin had
ordered for his twin boys so Angela put in a call asking
if he’d like her to send them on or, if he was in the
vicinity, perhaps he’d like to call in. He said he’d
pick them up that lunchtime and, he added flirtily, if
she was available he’d like to take her to lunch.
Needing information she coyly accepted his invitation
and hoped this man would provide it.
unsurprisingly Angela’s most recent dream had featured,
yet again, baby Joshua except with the face and teenage
build of ‘Terry’. The dream was bizarre because this
amalgamation of two different people didn’t concern her.
In fact, in the dream, baby ‘Terry’ crawling around
dressed only as an infant had appeared the most natural
thing in the world. Even friends who were visiting
appeared to accept this large child and everyone loved
the cute, loving way he did everything.
She’d woken up
with this dream very much at the forefront of her mind
and, together with the ABDL stuff she’d learned,
wondered just how feasible it would be to transform
Terry into a dependent little baby.
Of course, she
was having internal arguments about this game-changing
course of action, but still, when she eventually settled
the quarrel in her head, it ended up with Terry being
with her but not as a teenager. That maternal feeling,
the idea of being a mother and having someone completely
dependent on her, was very powerful. Logic escaped her
as she wondered if her ABDL friends and acquaintances
might be able to help. She had no real idea just what
steps, if any, needed to be taken, though Mr Griffin’s
earlier chat about his boys had firmly planted a seed.
Angela had been
unable to find any reference to Blueline30 on the net,
although had found a great deal about various tones,
rhythms and hypnosis. She’d read that
for many Adult Babies/Diaper Lovers (she quite liked the
term ‘Diapers’ but wondered if there was perhaps an
English version, maybe the TNLL, The Nappy Lovers
League?) their only involvement was the wearing of
nappies and other childish regalia. For others there was
a deeper need which liked a mummy and daddy
relationship, whilst for different reasons, some needed
to be coerced into a regressed but happier state of
condition of returning a person to childhood really
appealed to her. She wondered about using a similar
strategy on Terry and perhaps letting him once and for
all, escape from the rotten life that seemed to have
She had taken to
‘Terry’ the second she’d seen this distraught young boy
contemplating ending his life. Angela remembered being
swamped with concern and compassion, feelings that
overwhelmed her to the point her unintended emotions
took complete control. She hadn’t known the backstory
then yet everything she saw in those initial few seconds
screamed at her to look after this boy. What psychic
power, what interference from God, what blessings from
above had suddenly entered her thoughts, she had no
idea. However, she knew instantly she had to protect
both the seed for Gordon’s /Terry’s adoption and
regression had been there from that very first sighting.
Her soothing initial words, that first understanding
touch and the deep desire to be loved by the seriously
scared youth clinging to the railings and about to jump
to his death, had been Kismet. Fate and fortune
intertwined, their future forever interlocked. Although
neither was aware of it, both parties needed something,
someone in their lives. The stars had aligned and their
destiny became one. Gordon didn’t know it but Angela
instinctively knew her life was about to change. She had
a vision of that future almost immediately, why or where
these thoughts /ideas/desires came from was unknown but
they had assailed her in several ways. Somehow she knew
that this grubby young teenager was destined to be in
her life for a long time. She didn’t exactly know how
but intended to see it through and hoped that the reason
would present itself eventually.
Graham Griffin proved to be wonderful company. For the
first time in many years Angela was able to relax in the
presence of another man. Not that she’d been off-hand or
terrified in the past, it was just that there was always
a guilty feeling that she was somehow betraying her late
husband by even speaking with another man. Graham was
different. He was polite, respected boundaries, was
playful in the way he addressed her and wasn’t in the
least bit pushy, letting Angela lead the conversation.
As the lunch
progressed Graham (they were now on first name terms)
was full of praise for how Angela had taken
Everything4Baby and managed to develop it so
well. He told her how much it was appreciated by the
‘community’ that she had made space for them to meet and
how clever it was to hold that gathering in the shop –
the latest baby ranges giving everyone new and exciting
They valued the
lengths she had gone to in developing new suppliers,
fostering novel ideas, encouraging innovation in
parallel with her main business, and in such diverse
ways. He also made known that because of her meetings,
others planned on having ABDL gatherings at their homes
or premises. So the group was becoming even friendlier
and more community spirited.
Because of this,
he tentatively asked if she herself had such
preferences, then immediately apologised for being so
forward and presumptive that it was something she would
share with a relative stranger.
She flushed a
bright red and again Graham apologised for being so
invasive but she waved her hand to indicate he had no
reason to express regret but confirmed she herself had
no such desires.
decided to tell him a few things that she hoped would
explain her current interest in all things ABDL
but first asked if this smart debonair man wore
nappies and such himself.
His face split
into a huge grin as he laughed out loud. “No, no, no… I
love to see them on others and I can understand why some
love to wear them but for myself, no.”
“My interest is
in my boys. When I first knew about them they were young
tearaways heading for a rather gloomy existence. Their
past had been horrendous and they’d been horribly
scarred by their juvenile life… parents, (he shrugged
and sighed) an uncaring and hostile environment. I
wanted to change that.”
This of course
struck a chord with Angela.
“I’d like to say
I did it for the best of reasons but, in truth, they
give me far more than I can give them.”
He looked down
at his empty plate.
“I fear I’ve
robbed them of growing up to be noisy, naughty,
mistake-making, uncaring teenagers, growing into
He looked Angela
in the eyes.
“I love my boys
and would do anything for them but I can’t let them ever
be anything but toddlers. I’d hate the world to crush
them and I have no doubt that the direction they were
going, and the choices they’d already made, that would
He gave a huge
“I can prevent
that so they can have a stress-free life of nappies and
toys, playtime and fun for as long as I have the ability
to give it to them.”
He was surprised
after such a confession that Angela wasn’t being
She’d seen how
happy and loving the boys were when she had met them on
previous occasions at those Sunday meetings. How keen
they were to do as daddy said and how polite they were
to everyone. They almost glowed with pride if daddy
praised them, which he often did, and they would giggle
and wriggle in a joyously boyish way before getting back
to their play.
further that when he’d put the boys in nappies at the
very beginning he thought they looked so damn cute and
innocent it was difficult seeing them in any other way.
It became the prototype look, the one that he based all
other decisions on. So, that’s how they were kept,
reliant on ‘daddy’ to change and look after them and for
them to remain unsophisticated - pure and infantile.
Angela was more
than a bit surprised that her lunchtime companion should
have spoken so openly about his boys, and yet she
understood perfectly. Was this not the way she hoped to
help Terry achieve his ambition of a new start? Was this
not exactly the same scenario that might just lead to
complete contentment on both his and her part?
She was excited
to know more.
To reach your peak, there are many
steps to climb
Mary Rutherford (1701-1754)
snuggled up to mummy’s bosom, he loved the way she held
him tightly - it was such a warm embrace. He wriggled
blissfully as he sucked his favourite drink, his mummy
encouraging each enjoyable mouthful, saying what a good
boy Little Joshi was.
She’d pat his
padded bottom and slide her hand over the silky vinyl
admiring the soft but necessary bulk beneath. Joshua had
proved to be a very wet boy who needed his protection
especially when he was getting ready to go
‘night-night’. The double fabric
nappies and soaker pads making sure her bundle of joy
kept his bedding dry no matter how swamped he got whilst
He squirmed some
more as he finished his drink and mummy lifted to burp
him before returning her sweet baby back to her loving
embrace. Joshua settled his head between mummy’s soft
breasts and gurgled his pleasure. Angela slipped a large
silicon dum-dum in and let him slowly drift off, which
he nearly always did once his darling little tummy was
full of milk.
Mummy purred and
gently rocked him, not quite believing that her life was
now complete. His innocent unconditional love and total
dependence on her may have been time consuming but she
wouldn’t have it any other way. She loved everything
about Baby Joshua; his baby talk, his baby clothes, his
smiling face, the way his eyes lit up when she picked
him up and his lack of any understanding apart from
“Mummy”. She loved the way he giggled when tickled and
changed. She found that he offered her so much more than
she anticipated – he was such an adorable little boy.
Bluefile30?” Angela queried. “I could find no reference
to it online so feel it’s something I should know about
“Ah. I see
you’ve been doing some research.” Graham smiled.
“That’s what I
call it. It’s a neural inhibitor but the title is so
damn technical I can never exactly remember it all.
However, it comes to me in a glass file with a blue line
down it and it is graduated into thirty doses.”
He smiled again
as if hoping this explained everything.
Blueline30… you understand?”
but still felt none the wiser.
Graham could see
“Erm, let me try
He lowered his
voice and Angela drew nearer to be able to hear his
“This drug has
the mechanism to stop certain actions and responses that
say, you and I take for granted, from reaching the
brain…er… in particular the pre-frontal cortex.”
He looked to see
if Angela was following his line of conversation. She
was very interested even if she did find it all a bit
difficult to follow.
some more about the technical and psychological as well
as chemical and neurological reactions this drug offered
but ended with the phrase that stuck in Angela’s mind.
“In return it
makes access to the amygdala area, the area that has
more to do with childhood, open up and respond to very
sagely but inside her stomach had butterflies – was this
the panacea? Was this the actual thing she needed to
fulfil her nurturing desires? She was
enthused and needed to know more.
“It has helped
me, and I have to confess one or two others, in taking
our ‘babies’ back to a simpler time. It regresses the
mind, breaks down resistance and makes the subject far
more acquiescent to suggestion. Thus, when used in
conjunction with positive enforcement, certain deep
subliminal words and sound waves, it releases various
pleasure neurons which make the subject very, very
captivated by the possibilities and suddenly saw a real
opportunity opening up in front of her. She was excited
at the prospect of what she’d be able to do and what the
happy result would be for ‘Terry’. The new start he
wanted looked like it was a distinct possibility.
“Is it safe?”
It was a
question that Angela asked but wondered if she was all
that bothered about the answer… and she felt slightly
guilty that this negative thought had flashed through
“Well, Andy and
Jamie (his boys) have been on it for some time now. The
doses are a lot smaller and less frequent and my only
complaint is… they’re just too loving.”
She nodded but
wanted further clarification.
“What did you
mean by ‘it stops certain actions and responses you and
I take for granted’?”
Graham leaned in
even further and whispered his response.
“The plus side -
the recipient is very loving but the most obvious and
immediate reaction to the drug is it removes any control
over the bladder... and a little later… the bowel.”
apologetically as if he was offering a warning to the
downside of the treatment.
“So, a supply of
nappies and all sorts of other protection is needed from
the start. Being well prepared from the very beginning
is paramount. I’m used to it with my boys so it’s not a
problem but at first I wasn’t expecting such instant and
His eyes lit up
as they always appeared to do when he referenced his
want to be held, hugged, kissed… and changed… I never
get a moment’s peace.”
He let out a
huge belly laugh.
“But I wouldn’t
have it any other way… they give me a life that I love
and I love my boys.”
was buzzing with all this information - the
opportunities and possibilities that had suddenly
presented themselves. She had confided in Graham that
she could do with some Blueline30 because of an errant
nephew who was getting way out of hand. She didn’t go
into too much detail but flippantly told him that it
seemed a wonderful ‘cure all’ to such a problem. The boy
had been a wonderful and beautiful baby, it was a shame
he couldn’t be returned to such a state.
Angela schemed a
little by painting this ‘nephew’ in similar colours to
Graham’s own boys – on a downward slope heading for a
criminal future etc etc. She made it sound like
unfortunately nothing could be done for him as he was
probably too far down that road to self-oblivion. Graham
had sympathy with the situation and offered (as Angela
hoped he would) to get a file and bring it in the
following day when he’d have the boys with him.
She thanked him
but tried to deflect him from thinking it was for her
use by wondered if her ‘sister’ would go along with such
treatment. However, she added, it might be worth a try.
excitement that was bubbling inside her about such a
prospect she changed the subject and asked where the
boys were. Apparently Graham’s sister was looking after
them. They called her Nanny and she took as much joy
from their childish ways as their daddy.
fantastic idea… to have a nanny… that must be such a
Angela was now
forever on a quest for more and more knowledge.
“Yes, yes it
He looked at his
Angela but, help or no help, I need to collect my boys…
and no doubt you need to return to the shop.”
is that the time?”
She picked up
her things and handed the package of coveralls to
“I’m sure Jamie
and Andy will look delightful in these… I look forward
to seeing them… sometime.”
They parted with
a smile, a shake of hands and a promise that he’d return
the following day.
evening when she arrived home her mind was full of all
manner of plans. She had already spoken to some of her
suppliers and got quotes and given instruction for new
specialised items to be delivered to her home. Angela
could see the future from her perspective and was eager
to get things underway.
She was pleased
to see that Terry had hoovered and tidied the place up a
bit and that he had started preparing a meal for them
have gone to such trouble Terry… but thank you… it is
He was delighted
he’d been able to please her.
trouble at all, however, I didn’t vacuum your bedroom,
erm, sorry but, I, er, thought it a bit presumptuous to
enter your space.
She smiled at
his respectful manner and again thanked him for his
thoughtfulness. The fact that such hesitation to do
anything that might upset her was also pleasing to her
plans. The other gratifying thing was – he was only
dressed in her floral pyjama pants and a t-shirt, which
simply emphasised his adolescent quality.
continued preparing the meal Angela went upstairs to
change out of her clothes and to put on something a
little more comfortable. Before she did she inspected
the nursery and saw how tidy he’d made it and even how
comfy the inflatable looked with its clean and fresh
bedding nicely laid out.
However, she was
now full of ideas so before venturing back downstairs to
join Terry for the meal she lay out a pair of
semi-transparent plastic pants and a disposable on top
of his bed. She wasn’t going to insist he wear them but
hoped that he would feel compelled into doing so if she
could make him feel guilty about wetting before they
retired for the evening.
The meal was a
pasta dish that Terry had cobbled together using a can
of soup, and a mixture of ham, cheese and a few mixed
herbs to make the sauce. Angela was impressed that such
a young boy (she just couldn’t see him as a young man)
had such culinary skills. There was a huge amount and
perhaps surprisingly delicious, she was impressed that
he was being so helpful. They sat and chatted for a
while before she excused herself to do some work on her
laptop and left him to watch TV on his own.
She spent a
couple of hours catching up and responding to email and
other queries and was overjoyed to get a message from a
firm that said they had the item she’d requested in
stock. Delivery and erection could be made in 24 hours
if desired and that the other items would take
approximately four days.
She was pretty
pleased with the efficiency of this particular supplier
but she had given him a great deal of business over the
past few years.
returned with a hot drink for them both and they settled
in front of the TV for a drama and the late news.
However, once he’d finished it, and it was time to
retire, she wondered if perhaps having tea so close to
bed time had been a good idea. It was a very obvious
hint but she didn’t exactly say the words about him not
soaking the bed. However, she did imply that there were
precautions left out should he want to avail himself of
With that she
excused herself, wished him a goodnight and climbed the
stairs leaving Terry to contemplate what had just been
He had no
inkling as to what exactly those precautions might be so
shrugged, took the empty cups into the kitchen, and
washed them before calling it a day.
astonished to see what Angela had left out. Under normal
circumstances he’d have rebelled against such babyish
items, even though they were the correct size for him.
He had wet the bed twice and almost convinced himself he
wouldn’t do it again but still there was a nagging doubt
whether he’d succeed. However, the resentment that such
items instilled brought on flashbacks to when his older
brothers and sister made him wear nappies for their own
From a very
early age they had used the fact that he was the
youngest, and therefore most compliant, to entertain
them by making him wet his pants. He was late to be
potty trained and that seemed the excuse to continue his
embarrassment. It wasn’t always his fault, often, as he
slept, they would piss on him so that it looked like
he’d pissed himself during the night. His mother,
unaware of the truth (she wouldn’t believe her youngest
son’s excuses over the united voices of her other
children), so insisted he wore a nappy until she was
sure he wouldn’t wet again. His siblings loved to
humiliate him in this way and made sure everyone knew
what he was wearing, often pulling his shorts or jeans
down to reveal the cumbersome infantile fabric. The
abuse lasted until he was thirteen, and a couple of
times since then, but his family never tired of this
However much he
hated the way he’d been treated in the past he couldn’t
really blame Angela’s solution - wet
disposable-versus-wet bedding - it seemed a simple
choice. Reluctantly he saw he had no real option, if he
wet again he dreaded being thrown out and the smell in
the nursey was getting far too obvious.
taped himself into the well-padded disposable. It wasn’t
the first time he’d had to do it but he’d hoped it would
be the last. There was no mirror to check it was fitted
correctly but it did feel tight on his hips. The
misty vinyl pants were ample enough to cover his nappy
and as he climbed under the fleecy blankets he had a
happier memory. The last time he’d worn such an item it
resulted in him winning a quarter of a million. He
snuggled down with a smile on his face.
To begin with he
felt most uncomfortable. His mind raced as thoughts of
his family who’d stolen and spent every penny he’d
earned, without so much as a thought for him, both
angered and left him distraught. He’d become the ‘money
cow’ (that’s what his eldest brother had nicknamed him)
delivering money and being milked of it. The rest of
them just used his name to get things and they abused
other people in doing so. Many of the things that he was
accused of doing were a result of his money-grabbing,
attitude-wielding scumbag of a family but he got the
blame. It was them who turned the public against him and
it was they who had eventually killed the golden goose.
The heat from
the nappy and the frustration he felt made him boil with
resentment. He tossed and turned, scratched and itched,
he was sure he’d never sleep with all the thick, hot
fabric and the diaphanous plastic pants surrounding his
groin. However, like most teenage boys he soon found a
way to help relax. With a hand inside his nappy it
didn’t take long to get the release needed and settle
down to what he hoped would be another wonderful night’s
previously he’d been able to drop off without the
slightest trouble, now his mind was working on making
sure he didn’t wet. He had a fitful night, constantly
waking up and being relieved, when he shoved his hand
down the front of the protection to find he was dry… if
just a bit sticky.
This happened a
few times, the last being just as the light from behind
the curtains indicated that dawn had almost arrived. He
was part dozing and part awake but pleased that he’d
managed to get through the night with no accidents.
Stroking the front of his lustrous pants his mind was
relaxed as he slowly drifted off back to sleep.
Angela came into
Terry’s room and was pleased that there wasn’t that
tell-tale smell of urine that had been so obvious on
previous occasions. She could tell he was still fast
asleep but, because the blankets had fallen off the bed,
happy to discover that he was wearing the protection
she’d left out. She also noticed that the
semi-transparent pants were bulging quite considerably
which indicated the disposable had served its purpose.
something sweet and childlike as she watched the slow
rise and fall of his breathing. He squirmed slightly and
his plastic pants gave off that rather telling, if
muted, rustling sound, the bright blue indicator strips
could be seen through the translucent material and his
lips were shiny with dribble as he turned to face her.
She didn’t want
to break the spell but as she had to go to work and
needed to set a couple of other ideas of hers in motion
had to wake him.
Calling his name
she gently shook him awake.
Terry, wake up love there’s something I need to ask
Slowly his eyes
focused and he was aware of Angela’s smiling face in
front of him.
“Sorry to wake
you up, I just wondered, if you’re up for it, and things
aren’t too heavy… if you could do something for me?”
stretched and noticed the blanket had fallen away and he
was lying there wearing only a nappy and plastic pants.
He made a scramble for the blanket to try and cover up
but shamefacedly realised that Angela would have noticed
that his disposable was expanded and soaked.
She saw the
embarrassment add colour to his skin. She smiled
“Oh Terry, don’t
worry, it’s better to use the disposable than have
everything else sopping wet.”
Her kind words
didn’t really lift the gloom that he was feeling.
However, he tried to respond to her earlier question.
“What is it you
want me to do?”
“Oh yes, I think
we need to make some changes to your room…”
He noticed she
had said “Your room”
“So, if you can,
and stuff isn’t too heavy, could you take the crib down
to the garage and then, all the boxes in the other
bedroom room need to be cleared out. If you could store
them down there as well, that would be terrific.”
his hand stroked the front of his bloated diaphanous
plastic pants as he listened to her request.
or maybe read into this particular scene, that his
sodden nappy and slick vinyl pants were the focus of his
attention in such a distracted way. There was something
very innocuous about it all, as if he didn’t really mind
“I’m not sure
you’ll be able to manage it all but any help you can
give would be most appreciated. Leave what you can’t
carry and perhaps this evening we can organise its
“Sure. I’ll do
what I can.”
He gave her a
weak smile and hoped she’d leave ‘his room’ so he could
be embarrassed on his own.
Don't grow up, it's a trap!
heard the door bang shut and car drive off Gordon lay on
the bed and ran his hand over his bloated night time
protection. There was no denying that it had done its
job perfectly well but there was still a slight nagging
resentment at the back of his mind - Christ he was
twenty years old and shouldn’t be wetting his pants at
all. However, he was pleased he’d made the decision to
wear the disposable because he was sure Angela wouldn’t
put up with any more soaked bedding.
He lay there
thinking of her words “Your room” and began to relax a
little… that seemed very positive. He had no idea why he
was wetting at night but whilst he did… perhaps wearing
a nappy to sleep in was not a bad price to pay for a
roof over his head and a kind lady who was doing her
best for him?
As his thoughts
played with the possibilities his hand distractedly
played with the soft silky mound; it was curiously sexy,
childish and comforting and he enjoyed the sensation. He
knew it was still fairly early so rolled over, pulled
the fleecy blankets back over and drifted back to sleep.
His dream was
almost instant and found himself in a world where he
wore a nappy and everyone was smiling. There was no
shock or ridicule, everyone seemed pleased to see him
and admired his cute colourful protection. This was a
world without his family, the press, the trolls on
social media… it was a very happy place to be. He was
smiling a lot and, until he came to stay with Angela, it
was something he hadn’t enjoyed doing for quite some
As mummy led him
out Joshua was alarmed to find two others in his
playpen. They were both smiling boys who were dressed
like him - thick nappies, plastic pants and white cotton
t-shirts with huge colourful but different dinosaurs
printed on the front.
At first he was
a bit scared of these newcomers but one of them offered
him a small but cute looking “dinoroar” (as the new boy
called it) and then made him smile behind his dummy when
he started dancing and ‘singing’ and pulling faces
pretending to be the fierce creature. Joshi wasn’t sure
but then the other started crawling around growling,
soon all three were holding animals and making whatever
noises they thought appropriate.
other two boys had a much better vocabulary than Joshi,
they seemed more than happy to join with the youngest
member of their tight little pack in just making noise.
Mummy and Daddy
looked on, happy that this first meeting hadn’t been the
problem they thought it might be. The babies hugged and
swayed whilst having a conversation that the two adults
couldn’t understand but which the little kids did.
Gibberish babble soon had the juvenile trio deep in
playtime, where the newness of the meeting had been
immediately forgotten. The huge plastic area of his
playpen crinkled and squeaked, as they squealed and
screeched, in a joyful fantasy of their own making.
Gordon woke up
from his pleasant dream to find his nappy expanded to
capacity. This time he actually remembered the moment
just before waking up when he’d voluntarily peed,
enjoying the warming sensation that followed. He
couldn’t understand why it had given his so much
He threw back
the covers and, despite being only slightly annoyed that
he’d done what he’d done, was glad that nothing else was
wet. He got to his feet and was amazed just how much his
disposable held because it felt so big and heavy hanging
in his glossy plastic pants.
He was a bit
thrown by his emotional state, whereas, only yesterday
wetting the bed had caused him great concern, today,
with it all contained, he felt bizarrely elated.
Standing contemplating this turn of events he ran his
hands over the shiny plastic and realised it was they
and they alone that was keeping everything in. He
wiggled his hips - the weighty bulk providing a peculiar
buzz. He began to dread taking them off in case his piss
just flooded out everywhere. Also, and perhaps
inexplicably, he didn’t want to take them off.
His mind raced
to find some kind of rationalisation because he knew he
should be horrified; had his family’s past exploits
schooled him into believing this was acceptable or was
he simply relieved that he hadn’t wet the bed and such a
reprieve was showing up in this odd way?
He swayed again,
the morning sunlight catching his straining shiny
plastic pants and for a moment made them glow – it
looked like his groin was encased in polished silver.
Angela was full
of plans. She couldn’t wait for Graham to arrive but in
the meantime, in between serving her eager mums-to-be,
managed to organise the delivery of her latest project.
She hoped Terry would be able to move most of the stuff
from his room and the spare room because she had big
plans for both areas.
Two young boys
dressed in junior school uniforms were her first
indication that Graham had arrived. Excitedly,
the two giddy kids, looking well-turned-out in the
uniforms of an independent school over in the next city
– grey shirt and shorts, purple and grey tie and purple
blazers, greeted her with a hug. She was just as pleased
to see them as they were her and handed them both a
lollipop, which she kept for just such occasions.
“Tank yew Miss,”
As the boys
hugged Angela she could hear the crinkle of plastic
pants and could see the thick outline of their
protection filling out their stylish little grey
corduroy shorts. As daddy entered the shop she patted
their bottoms and pointed them towards the latest
arrivals in the toy section.
Angela,” he beamed.
nice to see Andy and Jamie looking so smart… are they
going somewhere special?”
visiting friends a little later but were very excited
when I told them they were coming to see you first… you
seem to have been a great hit with them.”
“Oh, I hope so;
they’re both very sweet boys.”
desperate to know if he’d brought the Blueline30 but was
content to go along with the pleasantries first. Graham
was a very easy man to talk to and even some of the
other lady customers turned their heads to admire this
smart and dignified man with two young children in tow.
They may have been a little bigger than what you’d
expect of junior schoolboys but the uniform was quite
prestigious because this high-class learning
establishment was well known at being sticklers for
wearing the correct uniform at all times. The private
school’s illustrious status also indicated that the
wearers of such a uniform came from a very well to do
family of privilege and money.
To Graham this
was just another form of camouflage to keep people from
asking too many questions. Both boys were actually
teenagers but they behaved and had the mental and verbal
capacity of toddlers, which was how their daddy liked to
keep them. So he’d adapted several outfits that the boys
could wear in public that wouldn’t draw too many
searching questions; schoolboys, cub scouts, football
and other sports strips.
could quite easily have dressed them ‘age appropriately’
he was of the opinion that they would have trouble with
their peers and that it would only add confusion to
their innocent demeanour. Wearing childish clothing may
have led to ridicule from their peers, though in fact it
just made these older children not want to be involved
with such ‘babies’, so they kept their distance.
The boys didn’t
know any different, like all toddlers, they wore
whatever daddy dressed them in. As long as they didn’t
have to answer questions things were OK. However, they’d
been instructed that if anyone spoke to them they had to
run and find daddy immediately. So far this little
deception had worked fairly well.
Back at the
house and Gordon was still dressed in his night time
protection but had already cleared the crib and other
bits and pieces from his room down to the garage. He
enjoyed being busy, as well, bizarrely, the feeling his
ballooning nappy was giving him. Quite a few times he’d
stop and run his hands over the distended plastic mass
and shiver with delight at this slippery marvel.
The other room
was full of boxes, cases, trunks and an assortment of
old clothing. Still, he’d been asked to empty the entire
room so just got on with Angela’s request. He struggled
with a few of the weightier items but was determined to
have the job done before Angela returned from work.
He was also
wondering just what her plans were for both rooms.
He’d taken her
“Your room” as proof that he wasn’t going to be kicked
out any time soon, although why he thought he’d become a
permanent fixture he wasn’t sure. The thing was, in just
a very short time he’d come to rely on Angela as a
‘mother’ figure. It was true that his first thought was
that she maybe wanted some kind of ‘toyboy’ but her
approach towards care and understanding had definitely
been more maternal than carnal.
the sex side of things pretty rapidly because of the way
she’d shot him down when he spoke of ‘payment’. However,
she had said that once he was on a more even keel, and
felt he could sort out his problems, he would no doubt
be on his way. This was the last thing he wanted. He
definitely didn’t want to go anywhere and would do all
he could to stay under such a caring person’s roof
because quite simply – he felt both safe and loved.
Meanwhile, as he
looked around the now empty second bedroom he hoped that
one of the rooms would include a more permanent bed for
him. He let his mind wonder as to how he’d like ‘his
room’ decorated and the bedding he’d choose…
He had no idea
what Angela had in store for him.
Quite some time
before Terry arrived in Angela’s life the ABDL side of
the business was already doing very well. The mail order
had grown from nothing to quite a thriving little
industry in its own right. However, it was the variety
of people and interested parties this lifestyle brought
into Angela’s sphere she liked the most. It was
different, it was a little spooky, it was loving, it was
cute but occasionally it was scarily innovative.
become obsessed with how Andy and Jamie acted. They
weren’t ABDL people, they were regressed teenagers who
were kept as toddlers for their own good, well, for
their daddy’s good actually, but she didn’t see anything
wrong with that. All she saw was two big kids enjoying a
carefree life full of love and concern. They wanted for
nothing and in Graham they had a ‘daddy’ who would move
Heaven and Earth for their happiness.
Of course, the
greater part of her ABDL customers were nothing like
these two boys. They were grown-ups with certain
childish desires but who in the main operated as
grown-ups the majority of the time. However, her plan
was to have Terry the same way Graham had his boys. This
desire on her part had come to her very quickly once she
had Terry in her home.
It appeared that
in just a couple of days, after the initial normal
response to a scared and suicidal teenager, Angela,
armed with what just could be done to people like Andy
and Jamie, had set herself on an innovative course of
love and by the sound of things, hadn’t received much of
that so far in his life. Angela wanted to change his
circumstances, alter his references, obliterate the
negative from his past and let him experience unreserved
love from the very beginning… his beginning… his new
Graham passed a
small package over to her and, keeping his voice low,
reminded her that it was important that the dose
shouldn’t be exceeded.
could prove very problematic, you might never get your
nephew back, and he’d be forever lost as an incontinent,
that she understood. An email the previous night
explaining Blueline30’s effects and how it needed to be
administered with care had proved most interesting
reading. He also gave her a copy of his own subliminal
audio file to help in his conditioning.
“Play this to
him as often as you can and have it playing when he goes
to sleep. You might find that after the
first dose he will be easier to control and will respond
more quickly to your suggestions if his mind already
thinks a certain way”
“You mean more
know if Graham had already sussed that the drug was for
her personal project but he never questioned her
motives. In many ways Graham and Angela were very much
alike; they had tons of love to give but had been
deprived of that outlet for one reason or another. She
had a great deal of time for both him and his boys.
sweating profusely. He’d managed to clear everything out
of the spare bedroom and stack it neatly (even if he did
say so himself) in the garage. He let out a sigh of
contentment at a job well done.
It was 2pm and
he still wore his soaked nappy, he hadn’t bothered to
get changed thinking that as there was no one else
around he didn’t need to. However, he was beginning to
itch a little and thought it time to take a shower and
change into some daytime clothes.
stripped he felt strangely naked without his full nappy.
That thickness and silky outer skin had captivated him
all morning and now suffering its loss wriggled
distractedly under the warming jets. Perhaps he was just
realising how heavy it had become and relieved now he’d
discarded the weight. However, his thoughts were not on
what he was going to wear once out of the shower but
looking forward to hopefully having to wear his night
time protection again. Angela had noticed the fact that
he was wet so he did a little dance of pleasure when he
thought she would insist he stuck to wearing protection
He checked his
bottom and groin and could see that it was all looking a
little redder than it should. He searched in the cabinet
and found some moisturising cream and some talc and
spread them around the glowing parts before putting on
his underwear and the pyjama bottoms. His t-shirt barely
came down to the top but he felt comfortable padding
around barefoot exactly as he was. He even planned on
making a special meal for when Angela got home.
moving at a rapid pace.
In such a short
space of time Angela had made decisions, come to
conclusions and put her plans into place to make sure
Terry would have his new start. She was determined that
he would know love from the very first moment and that
that love was constant and unwavering. His new start
would be just that; a brand new start from the very
beginning. He’d know the love only a mother can give so
she needed him to be totally reliant on her for
A teenage boy
was fairly independent and Terry had been so far, even
if it had all got too much for him. She would take him
back to a new childhood and away from any grown up
worries. She would make sure he got his new start and,
armed with the file of Blueline30, couldn’t wait to get
the process underway.
As Angela drove
home she was feeling well equipped; she already had the
nappies, disposables, vinyl pants and suitable clothing
for her ‘Little Baby Boy’ organised in the boot of her
car. The following day the crib she
ordered would arrive so that would be a very good
starting point. She also had workmen planned to
construct the nursery and then build the playroom – her
new baby would have plenty of space for fun.
another pretty successful meal, as they sat watching the
final news story of the night something happened that
made Angela look at Terry in a most disbelieving way.
Change me not the child, his purity
Rev Llewelyn Farnsby (1873 – 1952)
has been raised over the whereabouts of former reality
TV star Gordon Littlewood after a disturbing video has
been uploaded onto social media.”
followed the newsreader giving a potted analysis of his
career featuring a montage of clips of Gordon’s time on
‘There and Then - Here and Now’ and a
series of unedifying headlines about his downfall in the
released video shows twenty year-old Mr Littlewood being
abused by several men...”
Angela looked at
Terry in complete disbelief. How come this schoolboy was
being described as a twenty year-old former TV
personality? She was shocked but not as shocked as Terry
who looked both sad and terrified as tears streamed down
anxious family revealed there has been no contact with
the former television personality for several weeks...”
montage of photographs, including one of him dressed as
a baby on the show continued.
distressed family are worried that he may have been
kidnapped, although no ransom has yet been received.”
There was then a
short but tearful interview with his mother who, fearing
the loss of her youngest son was in a highly emotional
are continuing their investigation but anyone knowing
the whereabouts of Gordon Littlewood should notify the
“What the hell
was all that about?”
Angela was very
“Terry, what is
could hardly be heard. His head was spinning out of
control as his body simply submerged itself in anguish.
He felt his life collapsing in on him and the wail of
misery couldn’t be contained.
was mystified by the news story she’d just witnessed,
there was a young boy next to her crying his eyes out
and in desperate need of some kind of solace.
She pulled him
into an embrace and stroked his hair. Sorrow wracked his
body and, in between huge gulps for air, all he could
mumble was the word “sorry”.
she’d just heard that the little innocent boy she
comforted was a television star and twenty years old,
she found it hard to equate the two. Terry was a sweet
boy, whereas Gordon, according to the news reports, was
a vile young man.
Terry tightly until the sobbing lessened.
couldn’t put off his defence much longer.
“I’m so sorry
Angela. I’ve been trying to avoid my past for ages now…
erm… I’m sorry I lied to you but I, er, thought, um, if
you knew who I was, erm….”
The words dried
up as emotion got the better of him and he hugged her
and wept some more.
There was no
denying that for Terry, the comfort of Angela’s warm
embrace, made him feel safe though he was unsure just
what this news would mean. Probably that he’d be on his
way very soon, but whilst he could he wanted her to know
how much her kindness was valued.
to stay silent until he’d said his piece. The Blueline30
that was just inches away in her handbag would have to
wait now that a rather large spanner had been thrown
into the works.
The word ‘Sorry’
was mumbled in between Terry’s sniffs and blubbing.
It gave her time
In due course
Terry was able to pull himself together and explain what
she’d just seen in the news report.
Yes, he had been
on a TV reality show. He had won a quarter of a million
and his family had taken it all. His mother insisting
that his eldest brother looked after his finances,
whilst the rest of them would be employed in other ways.
He described the
relief he felt whilst in the TV house away from his
family, a few weeks of total bliss.
The tasks they
had to perform and the humiliation designed for the
titillation of viewers was as of nothing compared to his
constant violation at home. Once he’d won the show his
family took full advantage and, he pleaded his innocence
with Angela, that most of the bad press was as a result
of his rotten family using his celebrity.
without asking questions. He looked so small and scared
and despite everything, she could still only see him as
a frightened and suicidal little boy - the fact that he
was dressed in such a kiddie way; barefoot, floral
pyjama bottoms and t-shirt only added to her concern.
He explained the
video that had been uploaded and had caused the concern…
and yes that was his mother showing how emotional she
was about the situation and with a sniff added.
“She should get
an Oscar for that ‘caring’ performance.”
that at his most depressed he fell in with a group who
had recognised him and offered to help. However, all
they were interested in was having ‘fun’ with this
dejected celebrity so used and abused him in ways he’d
really rather not talk about.
seeing how much pain he was in just telling the absolute
minimum, she knew how bad it must have been.
walking the streets for a couple of days since they let
me go… until you found me.”
He looked at
sorry Angela but your kindness was the first time
someone actually cared about me, not knowing who I was…
it was fantastic… and I worried that, er, if you found
out you’d like me less.”
Terry spoke a
great deal about how much, in just the few days he’d
known her, he saw there were kindness, empathy and
understanding in a world which he’d been keen to leave.
He told her that had she not turned up when she did, he
would have jumped simply because he had nothing to live
At the end of
his story Angela knew more, understood more and didn’t
blame Terry for doing and saying what he had. She wanted
to look out for this sad young man and all that he’d
described tugged even more on her heartstrings. His life
had been rotten, it needed a drastic change, she was
more determined than ever to give him the new start he
looked him straight in the eyes.
“OK Terry, er,
Gordon, er, Mr Littlewood there is only one thing I need
scared but knew this moment was coming, the moment when
he’d be kicked out and he’d have to sort out his own
life without the influence of his guardian angel.
“Do you still
want a new start?”
This wasn’t the
question he was expecting and she’d asked it in such a
quiet enquiring manner, not an ultimatum or in anger, it
was more like a secret request. He was pleased and his
heart skipped a couple of beats as he thought of a
future… a future he was unsure of but at least he was
going to get help from Angela in achieving it. He was
exactly what I want.”
stayed in her bag. She had planned to administer the
first dose in the final drink of the night. For the
moment that had to be put on temporary hold as Angela
thought about a course of action.
get a new start if the police are looking for you so… I
suggest you let them know you are safe…”
“No, no.” Terry
became a little agitated.
that my family gets involved and I don’t want that to
that.” Angela was being very reassuring.
herself with how quickly she came up with what she hoped
would be a solution but first wanted to sleep on it,
toss the idea around before revealing it to Terry.
“You don’t have
to worry Ter, er, Gord, er… no, you don’t have to worry.
Trust me. I’ll be with you every step of the way and I
won’t let your family, or the police, take you away.”
It was silly
really. He was actually over the legal age and could do
what he liked. However, Angela still saw him as a little
boy and the grateful look on his cherubic face didn’t
detract from that image.
positively relieved at her comforting words.
However, I think
we need to sleep on it so… time for bed.”
laid out another disposable and a pair of pale blue
plastic pants on his bed and whilst there had picked up
Terry’s useless phone and hoped to get it to work.
He was happy to
see the protection and this time there was no resentment
as he taped himself in and pulled on the sleek cover.
Smoothing them against his groin he gave a huge sigh;
one of relief, mixed with one of pleasure.
He climbed under
the fleecy blankets and bounced around a little on the
inflatable bed as he got comfortable. Terry was a little
more relaxed now he thought Angela was on his side and
determined to help in some way.
She popped her
head around the door.
been through a lot so… I have this relaxing music I use
if I get agitated or too many thoughts are rushing
around in my head. I find it helps give me a good
She plugged in
the player and switched it on without Terry saying much
but nodded his approval.
audio file started low.
“I’m sure you’ll
find it as beneficial as… well… it’s designed to remove
nightmares and fill your head with relaxed thoughts as
the gentle sounds register in your subconscious.”
She said this in
a rather airy, light-hearted, dismissive way as if she
didn’t quite believe its qualities herself, but she was
didn’t need to go into any explanation, Terry was
already very comfortable under his blankets and his
smooth, slippery protection made him wriggle with
Terry, sleep well.”
The door closed
and the soothing tones and soft waves crashing against a
beach added a calm and reassuring ambience to the
He fell asleep
not knowing that although his nappy was soon to become a
permanent thing; his days of sleeping on an inflatable
bed were numbered. Meanwhile, his head was filled with
suggestions and words of encouragement: He was very
lucky, his mummy loved him, it was OK to wet his nappy,
he was a very good boy. These thoughts circled his
mind but the music was so appealing and relaxing it all
arrived early to make a start on the alterations to the
Terry had only
just woken up when he heard the knock on the door but
didn’t know what was happening.
the workers in the spare room before looking in on Terry
who was up and wondering what was going on.
“Sorry about the
noise. The, er, builders have arrived.” She said by way
standing dressed only in his night time protection,
which didn’t appear to worry him at all, or that Angela
could once again see he had filled his bloated nappy; he
was more concerned with what was going on. He looked
“Sorry Terry, I
was hoping to keep it a secret but, you know; now
there’s little point in keeping it from you. The men are
here to fix the spare room into a place more suited to
your needs. A proper place to sleep and some space for…
Terry’s eyes lit
up in appreciation.
“Oh mum… er…
Angela, thank you, thank you… how… fantast…”
He rushed up to
her and hugged tightly.
nice.” He weakly whispered… again overcome with emotion.
She patted his
soaked nappy. She liked this intimacy and loved the feel
of his soft and slippery protection.
enjoying the situation, held her for quite some time.
There was a
warmth and understanding in her that Terry craved.
Ever since that
first touch, when she guided him down from the bridge,
he’d desired her kindness and approval. Never had he
been a recipient of such natural affection and in truth
thought he was both lucky but undeserving. He didn’t
want anything to change that dynamic… and now he was
getting his own room, the signs were for an auspicious
into his thoughts.
“It’s a nice
day. The men don’t want us under their feet, so why
don’t we get to work on making sure the police are no
longer searching, or people worried, about you?”
As the workforce
got stuck in redecorating, laying new carpet and
building a large crib and playpen Angela guided Terry
out into the back field to make their little video.
Terry’s phone and recharged it hoping that was all it
needed to make it work; she was pleased to see it
operated just fine once the battery was full.
Angela had also
spent the night doing her own research on Gordon
(Little) Littlewood and was amazed at just how famous he
was… once was. She was appalled at some of his antics
and laughed at some of the stuff reported he’d done on
the reality show. Yes his small stature and baby looks
had certainly helped make him a winner - shame that it
“Do you still
have access to your Facebook page?”
why she was asking such a question.
“I think so, I
haven’t been on for such a long time, I was getting way
too many nasty comment I stopped using it.”
that but, do you still have access?”
He still didn’t
“Look, what we
need to do is for you to make a little movie using your
phone camera. You need to tell everyone that you are
sorry that you’ve caused such a worry but that you’ve
been trying to avoid being in the public eye. You’ve
been depressed but now you’ve met up with some people on
the same wavelength as you so are happy leaving the
limelight to those who want it.”
He was beaming
from ear to ear.
“Does this make
brilliant… I can say what I like. Maybe emphasise I
don’t want to waste the police’s precious resources, I’m
avoiding my terrible family and that I want to disappear
completely and have no wish to be searched for because
I’m now happy away from the press and pressures of…
pleased that he’d cottoned on so quickly and was
enthusiastic to do his piece. She was also surprised at
just how good he was at coming up with such coherent
thoughts and expressing them into camera (she supposed
it was probably something to do with the reality show
he’d been on).
They found a
rather inconspicuous area in the overgrown field behind
Angela’s home and rehearsed his piece a couple of time
before she held the camera and Terry performed his bit.
The spare room
was being quickly transformed. The team worked speedily
and had the room exactly like Angela requested; pale
yellow walls, pale blue ceiling, and light-eliminating
blinds. The construction of the crib was easy to slot
together and screw firmly into place, as were the
closet, draws and the changing table. The playpen took
slightly longer with wooden bars circling it to keep
baby safe and securely in place. The last things they
installed were the thick plastic mattress in the crib
and a similar, though much larger one to cover the
entire play area. Both areas were now slippery, soft,
comfy, baby-safe and waterproof.
was looking good and all but complete; Angela herself
would add the finishing touches. The piles of nappies,
the colourful plastic pants, baby clothes, bottles and
containers of soothing oils and powder, the room would
smell of a well looked after baby. Images of babies in
nappies were planned for a border to stretch all the way
around the room as were smiling cartoon animals to match
some of the bedding she’d already ordered. She couldn’t
wait to install the mobile she’d bought when first
expecting all those years ago. The room would be a
wonderful haven for a happy baby.
Littlewood was suddenly in his element. He wanted to put
an end to the police activity but thought they might
need a good motive to stop looking. He took a great
delight in listing the reasons why he was disappearing
and laid the blame squarely on his scumbag (his word) of
a family. He wanted to move the spotlight from him and
onto that nasty group of tormentors who’d made his life
hell. He wanted to make sure that the next round of
newspaper headlines was about them and not him.
He let rip.
Comforted by the
wet nappy he’d never removed, he enjoyed having such
power. His mind raced to put all his grievances into a
tight little two minute segment.
Angela held the
camera but couldn’t help notice that throughout his
tirade to camera he wiggled and constantly played with
his cumbersome groin… it was if he was finding comfort,
inspiration and support from his nappy. The
camera didn’t show that on screen.
He wasn’t sure
why but seemed to have gained confidence and awareness
in himself and as a result, a nappy, wet or dry, was
something he wanted and liked to wear.
There was a
happy glow about him now. He was buoyant and alive and
this transferred itself onto the little video. He still
looked like a young teenager but his words had been
damning for his family and his desire to disappear
seemed to make a great deal of sense after what they’d
put him through.
Gordon was able
to upload straight from the phone to his Facebook page
and with a hug and a sigh felt that was the end to that
part of his life.
to make sure his little video was correctly and
completely installed on his page and with a look of
relief congratulated him on a job well done. At the back
of her mind she hoped that if they tried to trace back
to the phone it would prove authentic but useless.
Angela and Terry
(he was still Terry to her) celebrated with a bottle of
soda each and a feeling of total liberation; they
toasted to a better life and a new start.
The line that
was often repeated by members of the public was his
reaction to the sordid video that had been placed on
social media and had caused this search in the first
did some awful, unforgivable things to me but that was
as nothing to the lifelong suffering and abuse my family
He finished the
piece to camera wishing every one well and hoping that
they would find the happiness he had found.
sounded like he’d joined a cult, the fact that he’d done
nothing illegal brought any police involvement to a
As an offshoot,
it also increased Gordon’s profile and a desperate
desire by reporters to get the ‘real’ story about Gordon
Littlewood. The Facebook video was soon trending and
became one of the most watched YouTube clips.
His family were
ridiculed and ferociously castigated in the press; the
very press that had been so quick to vilify Gordon now
held him up as a victim. New stories about him appeared
- anything to cash in on his name now it was back in the
An exclusive and
syndicated interview would have netted him another small
fortune but he was unaware of this interest because
Blueline30 was now flowing through his bloodstream.
confirmed the video had uploaded correctly Angela took
the phone, removed the SIM card and tossed it into the
“There, now they
can’t track you down or annoy you anymore.”
She gave him a
conspiratorial smile, which he returned with a hug.
their success with a cooling fizzy drink, both relieved
that it was now all over.
Angela looked up
into the sunlit sky and then back to Terry.
going to be different from now on,” she confided.
“Everything is about to change… for both of us.”
The spiked soda
was already working and the unexpected loss of bladder
control made Terry suddenly stand still wondering what
was going on. The soft hissing sound of pee adding to
his already full nappy, together with the sudden vacant
look in his eyes, meant that Blueline30 was working as
Angela was well
prepared. She’d brought a bag with various items she
knew would be needed.
doubting what was happening but could no longer
comprehend anything. His body shivered and a tear came
to his eye, something was wrong, something had…
He was no longer
able to control his body and, as his nappy filled, all
he could do was sob.
Taking a change
mat from her bag Angela spread it out on the ground and
helped the confused and immobile teen down onto it. She
relieved him of his soaked disposable and for the first
time, set about cleaning up her baby.
sweetheart… I’ll have you all clean and tidy in a
She looked down
at a naked Terry and realised that there needed to be a
few cosmetic changes to his hairy little body… but all
in good time.
Angela loaded a
disposable with extra soak pads and then taped the thick
garment into place before pulling up some bright cartoon
vinyl pants. Terry didn’t appear to know what was
happening, his limbs, floppy and uncoordinated, offering
no resistance as she went about dressing him. A
colourful childish t-shirt and loose fitting cotton
shorts added to making him look even younger than
Sweetums?” She cooed and kissed his forehead, whilst
patting reassuringly on his bulging padded groin.
He looked so
cute but there was still a slight strained, unhappy look
on his face with weepy eyes and a cry not very far away.
She took out the
final emblem of his new life and slipped a soothing pink
dum-dum between his lips.
Within a short
space of time, Terry/Gordon disappeared replaced by a
nursing little baby Joshua.
A new name and a
new start, Angela wondered, if anything could be better.
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