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Part 1

He loved that sound as he moved.

That tell-tale ‘crinkle’ that announced to those in the know just what it was he was wearing.

They were a new acquisition. The online firm had been very specific that this particular piece of protection was very noisy.

Up until he saw the colourful image of butterflies and birds festooned all over the satin briefs, he had never really wanted anything that might draw attention to his ‘slight’ fetish. He was happy for those in the know to be one – him. He wasn’t interested in having DL friends. He wasn’t interested in being babied, all he wanted was that comfort he felt when he wore his nappy and the joy it gave him putting it on and taking it off.

However, the online firm he bought his little ‘bits and pieces’ from had launched a new ‘noisy’ range and the photo of this particular pair of waterproof pants had attracted his attention. MAKE SOME NOISE said the headline for the range, and there had been a fair few pairs of pants that he would have been happy to buy but it was this, rather cute, childish and sweet design that appeared to have made the biggest impression. They must have done because for almost a week before he bought them they were occupying his dreams, both night and day. Eventually, the obsession needed to be satisfied so, via PayPal, he made the purchase and waited impatiently for them to be delivered.


The impatience didn’t last long because within two days a brown package arrived at his home where, as he was out at work, his mother signed for them. She squeezed the package as she took possession from the mailman and liked the soft feel and the muted crinkle she heard as she did so. She smiled to herself and assumed her boy was treating himself again.

Good for him, she thought, he should have other interests beside computers and work.

Her son Ryan was 24, slim, nice-looking (she always said he was the handsomest and cutest baby) but a bit of a loner. Her husband Jeff had died in an accident at work when Ryan was 4 years-old so for the past twenty years it had just been the two of them together.  The insurance had made it so she was well compensated for her loss and the fact that her son seemed more than happy to live at home had made her content with life. Mother and son spent a lot of time together and socialised (if that was the correct term for the few friends that they bothered to see) and even went on vacation together hardly ever inviting others into their tight band of two.

Despite Ryan feeling his ‘fetish’ was only know by him, his mother had known about it for a long time. In fact, she remembered the time it took to get him out of nappies and how much her son of 9 had cried when he was made to wear only his pyjamas when he went to bed instead of the protection he’d happily worn up until then; his mum eventually convincing him to be grown-up, even if she had a secret longing for him to stay forever her baby. Of course for a mother all children remain their babies… no matter how old they get and Ryan, well Ryan had found his own way to satisfy something he needed. She was happy about this but didn’t want to be seen obviously condoning it because she knew that he thought his secret was just that… a secret.

However, she had a secret of her own and that was she knew Ryan wore his nappies to sleep in and had noticed he occasionally went to work wearing his padding. It was at those times she just wanted to ‘mother’ him and return to those days when she looked after every aspect of his life. But, she was of the opinion that she would only do so if and when her son asked her to. She didn’t want to provoke any reaction that might somehow make things awkward at home. She liked her son being with her and would hate for him to feel she had driven him away because of something she wanted. No, the best thing was to support her son when it was needed but in the meantime, enjoy her memories of when he was young… though she could add those images that ran around her head of him sucking his thumb and wearing his nappy now.


He walked up and down his bedroom knowing that no one else would know what he was wearing but rather pleased about what he could hear.

Crinkle, crinkle, crinkle.

Over the years he’d kept this secret he’d had no desire to broadcast it to anyone else but, and this was the part he really wondered about, this new possession, this stunning pair of satin and plastic protection, gave him a whole new insight to his fixation. The nappies had been wonderful; comfortable, soft, bulky and held happy memories for him. The plastic pants had been a later addition; one that seemed to set off his nappy and give it a new, smooth, sensual aura that he suddenly craved. These new pants had been that step further; an acknowledgement of his own desires (even if he was only admitting it to himself) with that audible response to each step he took.

Crinkle, crinkle, crinkle.

He thought this was a bold step, although he wasn’t sure why. He wasn’t a brave man and couldn’t see himself wandering down the road ‘rustling and crinkling’ till heart’s content but the fact that he had picked up the nerve to buy them, he thought, must mean something.

He looked in the mirror. Naked apart from his thick nappy and beautiful silky covering he was amazed at how spectacular and wonderful it all looked. He moved slightly… crinkle… he moved again… crinkle… he was looking forward to sleeping in his new noisy protection. In fact, he might have an early night so he could enjoy the strange and electric sensations that were coursing through his body.

Just as he was about to shout down to his mother (who he presumed would be downstairs watching the TV) unannounced she walked in to his room.


An ice-cold feeling of panic coursed through his body. This was the first time his mother had seen him dressed in such a way since he was a child. The smile on her face wasn’t noticed as he screamed angrily at her to “Get Out”.

“Get out, get out, GET OUT.”

Despite his harsh words terror rooted him to the spot, his slim naked frame only highlighting his padded outline but his mum wasn’t to be put off.

“Ryan it’s alright I…”

But Ryan shook his head and screamed more, “Get out, GET OUT.”

The feeling of wellbeing that had encompassed his body and mind just a few moments earlier were now transformed into anger and guilt… he shivered at those very guilty feelings. His mum stepped forward to comfort her irate son but he stepped away, trying to hide his embarrassment and push her away at the same time.

“Don’t worry Ryan… it’s going to be OK… I…”

Again he pushed his mother towards the door, tears beginning to form in his eyes, but at that moment fury conquered his guilt as he spat those words once more.


His mother’s beseeching hands held out in comfort were rejected amid her son’s confusion and terrified shame. He screamed at her but this time his mum would have none of it. She grabbed him by the arms, spun him around and landed three quick slaps to his padded bottom. He would have hardly felt a thing but was so surprised by this that he immediately stopped screaming.  His mother sensing the change of mood stormed in.

“Don’t you ever,” spank, “raise” spank, “your voice” spank, “to your mother” spank, “again.”

She knew her actions would have caught him off guard and pressed this slight advantage.

“Ryan Gatland… do you understand?” and she raised her hand as if threatening to repeat the spanking.

“Yes,” his voice was almost inaudible.

“Yes what?” His mum pursued her point with another slap.

Through sniffles he told her the words she insisted on hearing. “I will not shout at mum… mummy.”

She hugged him close to her chest and smoothed her son’s hair. “That’s right. Mummy is always here for her little baby boy… no matter what.” She hugged and kissed his head more. “No matter what…” she quietly repeated.


Part 2

As his mother rocked and soothed him in her loving embrace, the sobs that were growing in his chest were replaced by feelings of gratitude. His mother hadn’t gone berserk, far from it, she’d seemed understanding and… and… and sympathetic to his ‘situation’.

His mind, which had been racing to find excuses, make up reasons, answer those difficult questions that such a revelation was sure to bring, suddenly disappeared as the calming influence of his mother’s gentle rocking produced a different sensation. He’d forgotten just how enjoyable it was to snuggle: It was safe, it was secure it was… nice.

She patted the silky, crinkly bulk wrapped around her son and was immediately transported back to the time when this was a regular occurrence. He was always a loving child and even before his father had died, the family loved to hug and cuddle. After that fateful event, mother and son drew closer finding comfort and security with each other. However, as he got older the intimacy had to change. She desperately wanted him not to grow up being a ‘mummy’s boy’, he needed to be able to look after himself. She wasn’t a clinging mother, she knew when to cut those apron strings but, oh how she missed her baby.

There had been so many times when Ryan would be up in his room and she knew he was wearing his nappy. It was his little ‘secret’, one he didn’t want to share with her. Although she was desperate to say something, to tell him it was OK. She worried that her knowing might stop him from doing something he obviously wanted to do and she didn’t want to take that away.

But now?

She thought the loud ‘crinkle’ sound was his way of inviting her in, to be part of his secret, one he was happy to share and more importantly, be comfortable with.

Was she wrong?


Ryan didn’t want this feeling to change. He knew that at 24 years-old he should be over this need, this desire, to feel safe in his nappy, to love his mother’s embrace, to enjoy his moments of simply being ‘little’ again.

In his head it was an escape, an escape he felt guilty about, although that hadn’t stopped him buying nappies, disposables and other items when he needed them. He had no idea why but recently that desire had grown stronger. He wasn’t overly stressed at work. In fact, he found that both easy and satisfying, no there must be some other reason… why else would he have bought these super noisy pants?


“Yes darling, mummy’s here,” she continued to stroke his hair and hug him tightly.

“Err, mummy,” his voice was low. He didn’t want to change this dynamic. He felt safe and contented in her care. “Mummy, did you know?”

“Yes sweetheart. I’ve known since the very beginning.”

“Why did you never say anything?” His voice was almost childlike.

“Because it was yours… something that you wanted… if you had wanted to share it with me I would…” she corrected herself, “I am… fine with it.”

The hug got tighter.

“Ryan, you’re old enough to know your own mind but if you… if you need something … something that makes you happy… well…”

“Don’t you think it’s weird?”

“Where’s the harm? Who are you hurting? Who needs to know? It’s OK to have secrets, even from me, I don’t mind but if you are unhappy about the situation it’s up to you to change it. That’s why I thought these noisy,” and she rubbed her hand across his silky bottom and smiled at the slight crinkly noise they made, “I thought you’d decided you wanted me to… notice.”

He was enjoying having his bottom stroked by his loving mother and snuggled in closer.

“I think that I did. I don’t know why I suddenly decided to ‘announce’ that I liked to wear nappies but… I guess… I must have done.”

She patted his padded bundle of babyness.

“Ryan, I love you and… you can wear what you like when you like as far as I am concerned. You can tell the world if that’s what you want to do and I will support you.”

 She looked into his damp eyes and finished her little speech.

“You are all that matters to me and if you want to be a baby….”

“I like being little mummy.” He coyly interrupted.

“If you like being ‘little’… only at home then I am happy as well. I will help in any way I can… what do you want?”

Ryan began to think – what exactly did he want?


Without being aware he was doing so, he sucked on his thumb and gave it some thought.

It had been over two hours since his mother had left him to go to her own room to sleep but in that time, he was positive he’d have an answer to his mum’s question, “What do you want?” Alas, no new revelations had entered his head simply because of the way his pants gave him an accompaniment to his every move. Crinkle.

He curled up. Crinkle. He stretched out. Crinkle. He rolled over. Crinkle, crinkle, crinkle.

He was more involved in the noises he was making than with answering the question but rustling around in his bed had proved one thing; the company who made his pants were not lying when they said ‘Make some noise.’

He pulled off his protecting pants and gently rubbed the soft satin against his cheek. He loved the fabric with butterflies and birds and was pretty impressed by the thick crinkly plastic waterproof innards. He slowly ran the two different materials over his body and shuddered in delight at the experience.

He removed his nappy and slid the pants across his genitals, which instantly reacted. The velvety ‘butterfly’ kisses as he touched each part of his body delivered shivers of sensuality and excitement to his already over-burdened brain.

His orgasm had never been so powerful.

He lay there exhausted, his chest covered in the explosive aftermath and he could barely find the strength to pull his precious pants up his thighs to cover his leaking penis. The awareness that there was now a sticky dimension to each crinkle drifted into his dreams as he slipped into contented unconsciousness.


Part 3

Ryan slowly woke up; his favourite pants now feeling hot and sweaty as they clung heavily around his waist. The plastic material had created a little ‘sweat-room’ and he could feel his skin sliding against the slippery shield.

The crinkle was dulled. He much preferred it when it was loud and vibrant but at that moment there was just a soft rustling sound to his movements. Still, this wasn’t without its charm. However, he preferred to have his nappy between him and the pants but first he’d have to clean them up. He waddled to the bathroom, the sensation playing excitedly with his sweaty balls and half-hard dick.

The shower was a relief. He cleaned himself and the pants and dried both. However, it was time for work so, the question was; should he wear them to the office? He gave it about a minute’s thought before rejecting the idea. It wasn’t that he’d be too embarrassed (you should see some of the things his computer nerd colleagues wore) it was more that he didn’t think it would make a scrap of difference. If his mother had known his secret for years, there was a good chance he was only fooling himself and that everyone already knew… and worse still, simply weren’t bothered. How would he feel drawing attention to himself only to find that no one could care less?

He slipped into a comforting disposable and pulled up his trousers. That would have to do for today he thought but tonight, he and his mum were going to have some FUN.


Whilst Ryan was at the office his mother had decided she’d also get to work and sort a few things out for herself. The first thing to do was find out a bit more about her son’s likes and dislikes, so, she opened up his computer.

Thankfully, the password had not been difficult to crack. Sitting at the side of the laptop was her son’s teddy bear ‘Oscar’ who had been his constant companion since he was a baby. It still looked over everything he did and was sat, as if on guard, watching (with that empty, glass-eyed stare) over its owner’s domain… alas, the password of OSCAR24 was just too obvious.  If that bear could talk, Ryan’s mother thought, what secrets could it tell? The first page she saw was for the online store where Ryan bought those crinkly pants and she marvelled at the range of rather stunning items that were for sale. A couple of hours and with a few clicks here and there she’d been able get all she wanted.

Later, she went out and purchased a few items of her own. She wanted her son to know how much she cared and how much she wanted to help. At the back of her mind there were niggling doubts about certain aspects to all this. Should she be encouraging him? Should she just leave him to it… not get involved? Should she actually be enjoying the fact that her son liked to dress up as a toddler? An uncomfortable shiver ran down her back but she shook it off and reminded herself that Ryan’s happiness was all that mattered… and… if… by coincidence… it made her happy… so what?

She’d noticed the packs of disposables before, when she’d put away some of her son’s freshly ironed clothes but hadn’t commented. However, this meant that he was already equipped to slip into his baby or toddler desires. His crinkly pants were now quite brazenly left out, hooked over the bottom bedpost and waiting for their owner’s return. His mother fondled them with perhaps more interest than was necessary but she was impressed, as only a mother could be, that her son was investing his money in well-made products. As she held them up to the light for further inspection she let out a girlish giggle herself at the cartoon birds and butterfly motif, the loud crinkle that had set things in motion also made her smile.


For Ryan work appeared more boring today. Up until last night he had loved having his ‘little secret’.

To him it made him different to all the others in the office and he liked that. Even though he was comfortably wrapped in one of his thick disposables, which was hugging his bum and thighs like a pair of underpants just couldn’t achieve, it wasn’t as special as it used to be. Maybe he should have worn his crinkly pants - although maybe that would have been a step just too far.

Now he’d reasoned that everyone probably knew, and weren’t interested, the thrill of possible discovery no longer existed. More so, now his mum knew there was little point in trying to pretend anymore but hoped that his home life hadn’t been compromised in any way. His mum had said that she was OK with it all and he wondered, even though he hoped for some kind of fun (perhaps he’d wear his crinkly pants to dinner one night), she still offered her support and that he wouldn’t have to find somewhere else to live.

For a number of years, and certainly since he started work, wearing his nappies, which he’d bought himself, had given him immeasurable pleasure. Knowing he had the desire, yet trying to deny those feelings, had messed him up in some ways. He knew, after his father’s death, that he was the man of the house but that was the last thing he wanted. Not that his mother put any pressure on him, no he was quite capable of doing that himself. Although, once his mum had pulled that last nappy from under him and said that from that moment on he was to wear ‘big boy’ pants, he knew things would never be the same and he’d have to grow up.

Being at work and occasionally wearing his nappy had given him a boost. It had given him confidence even if its discovery might have led to embarrassment. He walked tall and, with his manly bits and pieces snuggly contained in their soft comfy wrap, he was able to cope with anything. He’d got this reputation as a solitary figure but one who came up with incredible ideas and solutions to problems. Often, when complications occurred at work, it was to him that the staff looked to sort it out, which he often did, without seeking any show of approval.

He was a bit of an enigma to some, a sorter of problems to others and a nice if undemonstrative bloke to nearly everyone. However, for better or for worse, Ryan’s life was about to see a change.


Ryan arrived home soaked through and not because of a sudden downpour. The journey from work had been very annoying, there had been a pile-up on the main road and the traffic was delayed for ages. He arrived home late to find his mother looking worried at what might have happened to him and all because he’d forgotten to re-charge his phone and the thing had gone dead… just when he’d needed it.

“Sorry mum. Phone died and an accident on the main road.” He shrugged his shoulders and thankfully his mother looked relieved to have him home unscathed.

She noticed the slight damp patch on his trouser front. “Another accident?” She said pointing at the problem and smiled.

Yesterday, this would have been an embarrassing problem but now, it was just embarrassing as he told his mum he’d been dying for a piss all the time the traffic was held up.

“Wee or wee-wee if you don’t mind… I don’t want to hear rude words from my baby’s lips if you don’t mind.”

Strangely a shiver ran down Ryan’s spine. He was being told off… like a child… but in such a way that seemed to make sense.

He nodded he understood and then carried on with the story of his mishap.

Eventually, he could hold it no longer and realising he was already equipped for dealing with such a problem (he gave a little chuckle as he remembered the moment), he let go.

“It was such a relief,” his eyes lit up as he remembered, “I felt so much happier sitting in traffic knowing my bladder wasn’t going to burst.”

His mum smiled and nodded in agreement.

“You see… these things happen for a reason…”  She didn’t expand on what exactly that reason was.

“OK, I’ll have dinner on the table in ten minutes if you want to go and change.”

He looked down at the damp patch and became aware, thanks to the vivid bulky outline at his crotch, of just how much the disposable had expanded. He thought it felt quite nice and snug but his mother was correct, he needed to change, he couldn’t sit around dressed like that.

Up in his bedroom there was a surprise; his mother had laid out on his bed a fresh disposable, his crinkly pants, a t-shirt, a soft fleecy blanket, a teddy bear and a little note that read: MUMMY LOVES HER SWEET LITTLE BABY BOY.

He was a little confused. Surely his mother, as supportive as she said she’d be, didn’t expect him to wear these things around the house. But what other explanation could there be?  Normally she just made his bed and that’s that. She might put away some freshly washed and ironed clothes but in general, she had nothing to do with what went on in the privacy of his room.  This was like she was making a statement: Not only was she okay with his desire to wear a nappy, she was encouraging him to wear one all the time and around the house… she really didn’t mind.

As he stripped out of his work clothes he wasn’t sure if he liked this development or not.

When he was down to just his soaked underwear he looked in the mirror and saw looking back a man who appeared younger, innocent, fun and cuddly and decided he wanted that to continue.


Part 4

Crinkle, crinkle, crinkle

Coming down the stairs was a cacophony of crinkles and rustling. Every step he took announced the presence of his very noisy pants and he loved the sound. The fact that they were so babyish, with their cartoon creations embellished all over them, only added to his pleasure as he finally arrived at the table. Amid more noise he sat down whilst his mum appeared with his meal and another surprise. His lasagne was delivered on a small, brightly coloured, plastic plate festooned with Disney characters, a matching plastic spoon and sippy cup completed his new ‘crockery’.

He looked stunned. “Muuummm.”

She just raised her eyebrows. “My little boy is going to enjoy his din-dins… or he’ll get his little botty smacked.”

She kissed the top of his head and smiled at her son’s look of disbelief. Then, to get things underway she picked up his spoon, scooped up some food and aimed towards his mouth.

“Muuummm, I don’t need fee…” but his conversation was stopped as his mother spooned in his first piece of lasagne.

He swallowed. “OK mum that’s enough I can feed myself thank you… I’m not a baby.”

He suddenly realised that he was sitting at the table wearing a nappy, plastic pants and a t-shirt that hardly covered his belly, so to all intents and purposes that is exactly what he was. He quickly calmed down and looked at his mum with pleading eyes.

“I can feed myself but… thank you for… well… understanding.”

His mum left him to feed himself and went to sit and eat her own meal. For a couple of minutes they ate in silence but his mother had a smile on her face as she watched him eating from his Disney plate that she’d bought that day. He was even drinking juice from his sippy cup, another one of her purchases, the rest she would add over time. However, when a drop of sauce dripped onto his clean t-shirt she got up, went into the kitchen and returned with a matching plastic Disney bib, which she hastily fastened around his neck.

Crinkle, crinkle, crinkle.

He wriggled noisily in his seat as he began to enjoy his new position in the household; no longer the loner son who had secrets, but a little boy whose mummy loved and was determined to look after.

“Thanks… mummy.” He said in a quiet and almost childlike voice and spooned in the rest of his meal.

“There’s a good boy. Mummy knows what’s best for her baby,” she beamed at how easily he’d cooperated and taken to his new role.

Well, perhaps it wasn’t a new role exactly, more of an expansion to one he already held but now his mother was going to be in charge and he could live the life he secretly desired but now… not in secret.

Crinkle, crinkle, crinkle.

The wriggling around was now of utter contentment… but, as his mother quickly pointed out… there would be some new rules for her ‘little one’ that, if he didn’t want to feel the hairbrush on his pretty little backside, he’d better learn… and learn quickly.


Ryan didn’t quite know why his mother kept mentioning getting spanked with a hairbrush. Neither his father nor mother had, even as a child ever threatened to lay a hand on his bottom by way of chastisement. Despite this he was very happy with the way things were turning out. He never thought he’d be able to wander around the house wearing a nappy but, here he was – loud and crinkly.

His mother filled up his sippy cup with more juice and told him he could go and watch some TV before bedtime. Ryan wasn’t paying much attention to the last bit of that conversation and missed that soon it would be bedtime so waddled over to the sofa and sat down to watch one of his favourite soap operas.

His mummy was halfway through clearing the dinner table when she realised the programme her little darling was about to watch was really not appropriate.  She waltzed in, picked up the remote and much to Ryan’s amazement, switched it to the children’s channel.

“I’m not letting my baby watch that awful programme it’s far too grown-up for him.”

“But mummmm.” He moaned.

“No argument… unless you want to feel that hairbrush on your bare botty sooner rather than later.”

She appeared very serious, which surprised her son who immediately wasn’t sure if he was happy with this new arrangement after all.

She walked back to the kitchen to finish washing up with the remote in her pocket so he had no option but to watch what she’d ordained was suitable.  Ryan desperately wanted this ‘agreement’ to work so decided that, as his mother was doing her best to give him what he wanted, he should also be prepared to go along with her suggestions. If he wanted his mummy to take charge, he couldn’t object when she did.

Once she had finished in the kitchen she went up to Ryan’s bedroom, grabbed his new fleecy blanket and teddy and brought them downstairs. She spread the blanket out in front of the TV and shoo-ed her son off the sofa and onto it.

“Aw mummmm.” He whined again.

His crinkly pants seemed to add to the fact she now regarded him as just a baby. “From now on, unless mummy says you can… you don’t get up on the sofa or chairs… you sit on your blankie.”

His plastic pants rustled noisily as he got himself comfortable and eventually he found that lying on his stomach, facing the screen, was the best position.

“Good boy… now let’s enjoy these lovely colourful characters in their adventure.” She patted his padded bottom and passed him his sippy cup and teddy to watch the show with.


At seven thirty his mum told him it was bedtime. He looked at her in disbelief and shook his head.

“Mum… er… mummy, it’s far too early.” He tried the sweet innocent voice he hoped would make her respond to his pleas. “Not yet, I can’t go yet I’d never sleep… I…”

“No arguments babykins” and she grabbed his hand and began to lead him to the stairs.

He pulled back and petulantly said “No”.

However, his mother was equally as adamant. “You will go to bed now or there will be no more nappies or… any of this” She pointed to his outfit and seemed determined that whatever he may desire, it was to be done on her terms or not at all.

He was caught off guard by this threat and found himself being almost dragged up the stairs and into his room. There his mother pulled down his crinkly pants, yanked down his disposable and smacked his bare bottom with her bare hand. Ryan wasn’t a tough man, indeed he was fairly scrawny and his mother’s determination, speed and power meant that he had to endure his bottom being swatted for a couple of minutes.

There was no denying it… his bottom hurt. His mother had made sure that each slap hit his rosy cheeks and that he’d know he’d been punished.

“You never argue with mummy.” Smack. “You never fight mummy.” Smack. “You do what you’re told,” Smack “when you are told.” Smack. “Does my little baby understand these rules?” Smack.

“Yes, yes, yes… please mummy no more…” Ryan held back real tears from both shock and the surprising ability his mother had to inflict pain. “I’m sorry mummy…. I’m huuhh… sorry.” He sobbed.

“Good boy,” and she cuddled him tightly, “Mummy knows what’s best for her sweet baby boy so…” She patted his red bare bottom. “He’d better do as he’s told - when he’s told or there will be more rosy little botties in future. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes - sob – mummy – sob – I’m sorry- sob – mummy.” He cuddled her tightly and hoped that she’d forgive him.

They stayed like that for a few minutes and until Ryan felt the heat beginning to ease from his bottom.

“OK young man… let’s get you ready for bed.”

A cowering, sobbing, naked and red-bottomed 24 year-old stood waiting for his mother’s instructions. She gathered a nice big piece of material and shaped it into a triangle and then got her timid son to lie out on it. She could see that after the spanking he was a bit scared but to lighten the process tickled his tummy as she rubbed in baby lotion.

Ryan nervously giggled but stopped when he saw she was adding a couple of extra thick pads. He wasn’t too sure and wanted to say something but his bottom still hurt so he decided to stay silent.

She pulled and pinned it all together and the bulky nappy felt completely different to the nappies he’d put on for himself. Not only that but the softness had eased his smarting bottom so when his mummy slipped a pair of clear plastic pants over the lot, he didn’t say a thing. The soft crinkle and rustle making him accept his fate and enjoy what his mother was doing for him.

She got him to stand up so she could check that it all fit and tucked the cuffs of the pants into the nappy to make sure nothing leaked. She added a sweet new green t-shirt with a rabbit wearing a nappy on the front that any one year-old would be proud of and guided him to his bed.

“Now sweetheart this is how it’s going to be from now on.” She let him snuggle down and make himself comfortable. “It’s almost eight o’clock now and that’s not good enough. Seven thirty is your bed time… if you’re not in bed by then… it will be the hairbrush.” She kissed her sons furrowed brow. “Have we got an agreement?”

Ryan had to think for a brief second – did he want this or was it all too much, too soon and had things gone too far? He nodded his head.

“Yes mummy… and thank you. I’ll be a good boy…”

“A good baby boy I hope,” his mother added as she stroked his hair.

“Yes mummy… a good baby boy… who loves his mummy lots.”

“OK sweet pea… just remember there’s no getting up in the night. If you need to go potty… you do it in your nappy. I don’t want my baby hurting himself wandering around in the dark. OK?”

Ryan snuggled under his blanket and surprisingly yawned, “Yes mummy… Ryan’s a good baby boy.”


Part 5

Ryan settled down quickly even though it was early. However, he was surprisingly tired but then… it had been a quite a surprising day. The spanking, the cutlery, the bib, the cut-up food… yes there was a great deal to process but, as he snuggled down in bed, the soft rustle of his silky plastic pants added to his slippery contentment, it wasn’t long before he was fast asleep.

His mother came in to check that her boy was sleeping soundly. As she’d done when he was a school boy she got his clothes prepared for the morning. She checked that his shirt didn’t need re-ironing for any reason, checked his chinos were stain-free, made sure his shoes were polished and sorted out a pair of socks. Then she decided that rather than leave him to get himself ready for work she would supervise.

The alarm sounded and she went to rouse her dozing son. He looked so sweet laid there, duvet half hanging off his bed, revealing his padded bottom and naked hips, his little t-shirt had ridden high up his back. Thankfully, she thought, soon that wouldn’t be much of a problem. His thick nappy was clearly visible through the clear plastic pants but she was a little upset to see that he hadn’t wet himself. Still, it was early days yet and her son would be doing lots of things he perhaps never thought he would.

She gently shook him awake. Sleepy eyed he looked up at his mother.

“Morning sweetie, time to get up.”

He rubbed his eyes, yawned and was suddenly aware of his bulky protection. He took a couple of beats before answering.

“Morning… mummy.”

Although she knew he was dry she still slipped her fingers down the front of his nappy to check. Ryan initially jerked away but realised that he had nothing to worry about, his mother had said she would look after him.

“Who’s a good boy? Not wet but, Baby Ryan needs to know it’s OK to use his nappy… does my little boy need to potty?”

Ryan realised he was actually bursting but shook his head; he had no intention of peeing in his nappy in front of his mother. However, she knew just from the look on his face that he was lying and thought that she would hurry along the acceptance of his situation a little bit by pushing down on his slightly bloated tummy.

“Awww mmmuuummm…”

The pressure being too much he couldn’t hold back and his bladder let loose. He closed his eyes and pulled a face (a face his mummy remembered from when he was a toddler) as the thick nappy absorbed all his wee. Because of the see-thru plastic pants, which his mummy had bought the day before (as well as other provisions) she could see the white fabric change colour to a pale yellow and silently waited for him to finish.

“Well done sweetie… I knew you could do it. Mummy doesn’t mind her baby boy making a mess… so he mustn’t worry if he does.” She held his face between her fingers. “Do you still need to go poo?”

“Mmmuumm, I can’t do that in my… can’t I just use the toilet? He begged.

“When my little poppet is potty trained he can but until then… he’ll use his nappy like any good little boy would.”

This was getting embarrassing but he somehow knew that if he could get over this hurdle, then everything else would be a lot easier. His mum stood over him and encouraged her boy to go potty.

“Mum, I can’t go if you’re watching. Can’t you leave me to it?”

“Sweetie, there will be no more secrets, there’s no need. My little boy has got a lot to learn and, if he doesn’t want to feel the hairbrush on his cute little bottom, he’ll do as mummy says.”

He tried but he just couldn’t make himself go.

“Sorry mummy, but I just can’t do it yet.” He looked down all shy and apologetic, which was cute but his mum thought that was something else he was going to have to get over.

“Not to worry sweetheart, let’s get you ready for work.”

Ryan stood up and was about to do things himself when his mother shook her head and he left her to it. First she removed his rabbit t-shirt, folded and put it on his dresser, then she gripped the plastic pants and in the same movement, loosened the nappy and dragged them both down together. Ryan stood naked awaiting his instructions and although he felt a bit silly, he loved the attention.

“OK baby, the bath is ready,” and she steered him towards the bathroom.

Once in there he realised just how prepared his mother was. There was a warm bubbly bath complete with a few toys to play with (more items his mother had bought the day before). Set next to the bath was a baby’s changing mat and piled up alongside were lotions, creams and powders, plus a huge pile of disposable nappies on top of which were several pairs of plastic pants.

Suddenly Ryan understood that his life was now no longer his own, his mummy had done exactly what she said she would and taken complete control. He assumed he was still expected to go to work, (otherwise why get him up so early), but wasn’t sure what he’d have to wear. This was something else he wasn’t going to have to worry about.


With every move there was an audible rustling. To Ryan it was like a clarion call to what exactly he was wearing, although to his workmates, it was just a weird little sound. His mother had insisted that he wear his crinkly new pants to work, which he simply did not want to do, although a few of her promised swats from the hairbrush on his naked bottom had proved very convincing.

They’d made small-talk as his mummy bathed and then dried him. To Ryan the towel had never felt fluffier as his mother made sure every little nook and cranny was thoroughly eradicated of any moisture.

 In fact, he was enjoying the attention so much that his penis also stood to attention. Normally he would quickly rub himself for an early morning orgasm but that wasn’t possible in his current situation. His mummy just kept pushing it out of the way with the towel as she dried between his legs. He was quite embarrassed but also wondering if his mummy would take care of it… would she go that far for her little boy. His thoughts were swiftly brought back into focus as she laid him out on the changing mat and applied baby lotion. Again his penis bobbed around looking for attention but she just moved it aside and continued massaging the slippery cream into her son’s bits and bobs.

She was gently coaxing her son to giggle as she tickled his tummy before sprinkling powder all over his cute little bottom. Pretty soon, and much to Ryan’s frustration, she wrapped him in a disposable and tightly taped him in. She reached for his pretty new butterfly and bird silky, crinkly pants and began to slip them up his legs.

Partly out of frustration and partly because he was worried about wearing such obviously noisy pants to work he objected.  His mother wasted no time; she pulled down his disposable pushed him over the side of the bath and reached for the hairbrush, which up until that moment Ryan thought was only a threat, and delivered three substantial swats to his bare bottom.

“What has mummy told you about this?” Another three swats followed.

Shocked and hurting Ryan immediately recognised he’d made a huge mistake.

“Sorry mum… er… aahhh… mummy.” He soon realised that a hairbrush applied so efficiently to his bottom was very painful indeed. Three more swats followed.

His yelps and pleading echoed around the bathroom but his mum had decided to make her point and thwart any possible indiscipline very early on. She was not going to let him get away with anything other than complete compliance. This is what he wanted and this is what he was going to get… but only as she saw fit.

As Ryan sobbed over the side of the bath his mother delivered her final warning.

“My little baby will do what his mummy says. There is no discussion. He eats what his mummy gives him, he wears what she puts him in and he does what he is told… immediately. Does my baby now understand these rules?”

She waited patiently for a reply but appreciated that her son’s sobs might mean he had to compose himself a bit first.

It had been a very painful lesson and Ryan was thoroughly chastised. Any rebellion about his noisy pants was vanquished and so were any future arguments. His mummy had proved herself to be most definite in what she expected from her baby son and would entertain no nonsense... eventually he was able to reply.

“Yes mummy. Sorry mummy.”


She hugged her son tightly and then rubbed some soothing cool cream onto his very red and sore bottom. Once this was done she re-fit his nappy, pulled up his crinkly, but to her at least, beautiful shiny pants, and guided him back to his bedroom. She wished she could just keep him like that. She would love to have him at home all the time dressed as her baby and the two playing those little games she used to play with him when he was a baby. A thought struck her - perhaps she could.

She helped him on with his shirt and tie. Ryan was aware of two things; his throbbing bottom and the shiny crinkly bulk he was now going to have to wear to work and he was dreading it. With each movement he could hear the tell-tale crinkle. He was desperate for his mummy to abandon this new dress code, especially as he was a big boy and going to work but his burning bum made him think again about saying anything.

His mother of course picked up on his continued reluctance so tried to ease him into his trousers with a few words of encouragement.

“I know you are worried about this,”

She said as she pulled them up and over his glossy protection.

“But I think my little boy looks lovely in his little pants. The pants that you like so much and which mummy thinks you look so adorable in.”

As he opened his mouth to try and reason with her he caught sight of her stern look in the mirror and decided against interrupting.

“I want to know my boy is well protected when I’m not around … and this is most important… I want him to know that the lovely crinkle sound every time he moves tells him he has a loving mummy at home who only wants the absolute best from her obedient little baby boy.”

He was staring at the ground and feeling like a toddler when he asked her what his work colleagues would say.

“Does it matter? Yesterday you thought that everyone already knew and if they do, what difference is it going to make and if they don’t… let them speculate… enjoy the fact that they will be talking about you. Most people will be too polite to mention anything and anyone who does… smile knowingly and be proud of the noise… after all, it was something you bought and something you wanted.”

With that she patted his padded bottom and sent him out off to work.


Part 6

Mummy was right; no one mentioned the noisy rustling, crinkly sound as he walked by.


In fact it was safe to say, most people had their own problems and Ryan’s little noise predicament wasn’t one of them. The firm seemed to be going through some changes and everyone was on edge except Ryan. Despite his original reluctance to wear what his mummy had decided, he quite liked this enhanced padded feeling at work. He knew it didn’t matter to any of his work colleagues but he found that his noisy, little secret left him with a knowing smile on his face all day.


His mother was correct about something else as well; the fact that the padding, coupled with his rowdy silky pants, were a constant reminder that she was supportive, loving and knew what he wanted, even if that was before he was conscious of exactly what that was himself. That hug around his hips was comforting, just like his mummy’s hugs. The thick soft fabric so close to his skin, keeping him safe and secure was everything his mummy was trying to do for her little boy. Even though his bottom was still smarting from the hairbrush he realised that she didn’t want him wasting time worrying about anything, just to accept her love, do what he’s told and enjoy the thing he’d obviously been craving so long. As he walked around his mind was in a very mushy, loving state and he adored what she was doing for him.


He loved his work but now he couldn’t wait to get home on an evening. Mummy would be there and who knew what development she might have planned. In his head he bounced around the idea of a brightly painted nursery with cartoon characters on the wall. He could see a huge crib with a mobile hanging above it, which played a tinkle-tune lullaby as he drifted off to sleep. He knew this was just fantasy and remembered that only a few days ago he would have rejected the very idea of ever wanting any such thing; the nappy and plastic pants being the sum total of his ‘fetish’. However, things had rapidly changed, his mother had seen to that. No longer was he playing at being ‘little’, she made sure he was now a baby with no responsibility. All he had to do was embrace his mummy’s will, respond to her love and happily drift into a state of perpetual infantilism.


This was a dilemma. Wearing a nappy to work was nice and childish and it had to be admitted, gave Ryan quite a thrill, but work itself was far too grown-up for a baby. His mother had thought along these lines since the day she changed from being ‘mother’ to ‘mummy’. From that first ‘crinkle’ hug of acceptance, when Ryan realised his mummy was there for him, she had been developing a strategy to enable her baby boy to be just that. She loved her son and was very proud that at sixteen, when he could have gone on to further education and possibly university, he wanted to work. He was, and is, a sweet and thoughtful boy but, his mother had determined, his need to wear nappies had proved to her that he wasn’t really ready for such responsibility. He did his best and quite successfully but he wasn’t ready. She had decided he needed to return to a time of no stress, no pressure, no responsibility or worries of any kind… her boy was going to return to being the sweet little baby boy who his mummy would do everything for.


The first step was to make sure she had all that was needed. On that first day after the ‘crinkle’ discovery, she set about obtaining those very things. Online she was able to tap in her requests and, thanks to her son’s Paypal account, get much of the stuff delivered.

Some of the items were special orders, while others were simple stock products, the rest she could pick up from any pharmacist. On an evening, when he returned from work he was immediately taken to his room where his mother checked his nappy. Occasionally it was wet but, after a day out at work, it definitely needed replacing. Once her son was wiped, cleaned, dried and powdered it was on with a fresh nappy and plastic pants.

Sometimes the crinkle ones, sometimes the clear, slippery plastic ones but that was all he was allowed to wear around the house. The smell of lotion and baby powder would greet any visitor, not that there were any of course, and the sight of her son blissfully happy waddling about in a huge nappy emphasised what she already knew. The initial baby dummies she bought were too small for him; they really were for babies and didn’t have enough of a teat for him to suck on. Thankfully, the first things to arrive were the correct sized dummies and feeding bottles so that problem was quickly resolved.

The next problem to be undertaken was Ryan’s reluctance to mess himself. His mother understood his problem but he needed to get over it and, rather than resorting to punishment (the hairbrush, though rarely used, remained a permanent threat) she was keen to use other methods.

The feeding bottle was just the thing. On the first night she had them, she filled one up with warm milk and added a little extra. His ever encouraging mummy made sure he sucked the entire bottle down just before bed at seven thirty, checked that his plastic pants were tight and fitting securely, pushed a new soft teddy bear into his hands, kissed him good night and waited.  In the morning one humiliated and messy boy sat up with tears in his eyes hardly believing what had happened during the night. He hadn’t known it was all down to his mummy but the fact that she was praising and happy to clean him up should have said everything.


However, now she realised there was something else that needed attending to… his hair… to be precise his pubic hair. With poo all squished around it made cleaning her son far fiddlier than it need be. So, she found a large tube of Nair and that night, before bath time, spread it all over her son’s body.

Less than a quarter of an hour later, fresh from his soapy paradise, he was hairless apart from that on his head. Sleek and hair-free she smoothed in more lotion and creams, which got her son excited and it was at that point she decided something else also needed to be done. Little boys may well want to play with themselves but that impulse definitely needed to be tamed. Ryan was twenty-four and had his own urges that needed to be retrained. Thankfully the solution was online and, judging by some of the web pages she’d looked at previously to determine just what her son liked, she found the very item.

The small clear plastic lockable cage arrived on the same day as most of her ‘made-to-measure’ order.  On that day everything began to take form. First she typed a letter of resignation, which Ryan would hand to his boss the following day, with immediate effect. Then, once delivered he returned home where his ever loving mother stripped him of his grown up clothing, bathed and informed him from that moment on, he was her precious baby.

Ryan wasn’t so sure, his mother discerned he was wavering but she had become a force to be reckoned and had no doubt she knew what was best for her little boy.

After more anti-rash cream was rubbed into his groin she attached the little cage thus restricting his pee-pee to a future of confinement. He was surprised at this turn of events and certainly wasn’t happy about it but his acting up soon stopped after a few swats from the ever menacing hairbrush.

His mummy had quickly developed a technique that scared, subdued and stung in equal measure. Ryan came to heel the moment it slapped emphatically against is reddened bottom. So, after a few tenderising swats his argumentative side was quickly subdued.  Now, with the only grown up urge safely controlled behind a plastic cage she wanted her twenty-four year-old son to know his place - and that was wearing a nappy and under her benevolent jurisdiction.

Soon the disposables gave way to thick terry nappies and a whole new batch of crinkly, crackly plastic pants was added to his wardrobe. Onesies would become both his day and night ware and short coveralls would be his going out attire. For when he got ‘fussy’, and so there was instant access, a dummy was permanently attached to his clothing, meanwhile, his substantial nappies made sure crawling was the best way of getting about.

All his clothes now possessed pop-studs at the crotch so access and changing were made easier. His potty training wouldn’t begin for quite some time so he had no option but to use what mummy had designated.


Watching his bulky, crackling bottom shuffle or crawl around the room was a complete and utter delight for his mummy and Ryan, well Ryan had to deal with a strange mixture of deep emotions. His ‘little’ fetish was no longer under his control. He was after all twenty-four years old, he had needs and desires that were not catered for by being a baby but those were now under the complete command of his suddenly very dominant, determined and decisive mummy.

His occasional bursts of revolt were soon tamed by a few smacks of the hairbrush, which his mother used if needed to get complete and utter compliance. Ryan learned, on an almost daily basis, that he must never be anything more than a cute and acquiescent little baby boy… his needs were second to what his mummy desired.

All he had to remember was that his mummy loved him very much and that the only way he could repay that love was to do and be just what she’d determined.

His mother did her research. When Ryan had been at work or slept she’d go online and read more stories, features and facts about being an ABDL. She couldn’t believe there were so many other people who enjoyed the same ‘little’ lifestyle that her son ‘enjoyed’. However, she liked the idea that her baby should be just that… she wanted her baby back.

She was aware that at his age he had a life of his own to lead but, since she’d discovered there was more to it than just slipping on a nappy, that there were depths and deeper longings, she wanted more for her son and perhaps more importantly, more for herself.

She determined that wearing a nappy for so long in secret had been detrimental to his well-being and that nothing less than total immersion in to that lifestyle would make him happy.

She felt like she hadn’t done enough to free her son from the shackles he’d had to bear since the day he’d started work. She blamed herself; she’d known about his little fetish and had done nothing for all those years to help her boy. It had been very remiss of her so now she was determined to make amends. 

She needed something in her life and she couldn’t bear the thought of eventually losing her boy. He needed looking after, that was what the secret nappy-wearing had been all about so obviously, this was what he wanted.

So, the desire to have her baby permanently back would fill her days with immense pleasure and was sure he would feel the same, so, the idea of total regression might be the solution. The more she read about the subject the more convinced it was what her nappy-wearing son wanted… no… needed.

He was struggling with his caged wee-wee. He found it frustrating, annoying and desperately wanted rid of it. The lack of access meant he couldn’t do the other thing he liked to do and that was to jerk off into the soft folds of his nappy. He hated this restriction mummy placed on him but his rosy bottom meant that every time he tried to complain, he was dealt a severe blow - he liked the spanking less than filling his nappy with cummies.

She was positive that somehow she had to expunge completely his twenty-four year old thoughts.

She could do nothing about his body but hoped she could help him become what she… he… desired … a mind that thought only of that second.

She’d do more research and start emptying his mind of all his needless thoughts. She had to get him over any reluctance to let go. He needed to know that filling his nappy, playing with toys, cuddling a teddy bear was all she expected of him.

Yes, complete regression was the answer.


The hypnotic programme she constantly played through the TV was having an immediate impact as Ryan squirmed and giggled as he watched the colourful images swim around the screen. He quickly learned to cry when his nappy was messy and gratefully hugged mummy once she’d cleaned him up and put him in something dry, soft and comfortable.  He loved his new huge nappies and the colourful cartoon plastic pants which cushioned him as he occasionally flopped to the floor.

His life was no longer his own… it was his mothers and she only wanted him to respond with smiles, giggles and messy nappies!




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