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By Les Lea
in the doctor’s office stripped down to my underwear
awaiting his arrival and I’m feeling cold and
vulnerable. The thin cream nylon curtain that separates
me and the plastic padded bed I’m sitting on from his
surgery still allows me to hear him whispering to a
nurse, whilst tapping away at his computer keyboard. I
wish he’d hurry up and start his examination as I’m
bored of looking at the blue hygienic paper sheet that
covers the bed and the rather large, scary-looking
chrome implement that I can just see through the crack
in the flimsy drape.
Even though I’m
expecting it, the sudden noise as he pulls back the
curtain makes me jump.
“Don’t be scared
Michael, I’m only going to examine you.”
His words are
gentle but I’m still on edge as he places a stethoscope
against my chest and begins. He
weighs, measures, taps, pokes, and peers into every part
of my anatomy though it’s a worry when he shuffles down
my underwear and cups my genitals.
I look over at
mum and dad who are sitting on plastic chairs only a few
feet away watching this process.
addresses them rather than me whenever he has a question
or makes a comment.
undeveloped for a thirteen year old.”
He continues the
examination by feeling my penis and searching for my
He looks over at
my parents and tells them I may be suffering from
something, but he says it in doctor-speak so I have no
idea what he means. However, the word ‘micropenis’ is in
there somewhere and I understand that.
stops his prodding and poking and pulls up my underwear,
which is a thick fabric nappy and tells me that I should
relax. I lay out on the paper covered padded bed and he
pops in a large dummy that has suddenly appeared on a
ribbon around my neck. He then pulls a soft, fleecy baby
blue blanket up over me and tells me again to relax
whilst he speaks to my parents.
anything that can be done for him?” I hear mother say.
“An operation or
drugs?” Dad adds.
“Look…. Mr and
Mrs Smith… it’s perfectly simple… your boy doesn’t want
to grow up. His tiny baby sized penis is him trying to
tell you… he wants to stay a baby.”
my parent’s chorus.
normal for a boy his age. What with the pressures of
becoming a teenager… it’s too much stress, so he wants
to go back to being looked after… not have to make
decisions… to be without responsibilities. His baby
sized penis, lack of pubic hair and his soft babyish
features… well; it’s his way of telling you this.”
I’m shocked by
what the doctor is saying but my nappy is hugging me
tightly, the fleecy blanket is very comforting and so is
sucking on my dummy. I feel myself drift off as my
parents continue their discussion with my GP.
I wake up and
I’m back in my own bedroom. It’s the smallest room in
the house and whilst my older brother Paul and sister
Helen have larger rooms, this one suits me as it’s mine…
and it’s very, very cosy. I’ve made it my fortress; with
all my favourite popstar posters pinned up on the wall.
My white closet and chest of drawers keep my clothes
nicely stored away, whilst the shelf that runs around
three of the walls hold a few books but also my favoured
toys and stuffed animals (I have quite a menagerie) who
look on and keep me company.
It must be
getting near morning as I can see a glow around the
window frame but checking the clock shows it’s not time
to get up for school yet. I sigh in relief although know
that this Monday is going to be a bit of a trial for me.
I lay there warm
and cosy under my covers, though a sudden thought made
me check myself. Thankfully, I hadn’t had an accident
and my PJs were dry so I wriggled, wondering why, for
the second night in a row, I’d had such a similar weird
guess I know why - the Friday before I was walking home
from school when Cuddy Cudthorpe and his gang of bullies
ambushed me near the local park, bundled me through some
bushes and stripped me naked. Well, not completely
naked, they left me wearing a thick disposable with
‘Baby Dick’ written in thick black letters across the
white material, front and back.
I tried to fight
them off but five burly fifteen year olds had the upper
hand, especially as I’m thirteen and a bit of a wimp,
physically and mentally. Ever since it became public
knowledge, well amongst the school, that I was under
endowed, he’d made it his job to terrify and belittle me
at every opportunity.
Of course, like
most bullies, he does his nasty deeds when only he or he
and his friends are present, so it’s difficult to prove
any of my allegations. But it is true that I have a
smaller than perhaps normal penis, certainly a great
deal smaller than my older brother, unfortunately, mine
had been noticed in the showers after gym and swimming
lessons by my class. I got a load of ribbing from my
class mates but then it got to the ears of Cuddy and
since then he seemed to take great delight in never
missing an opportunity of referring to me as ‘Baby
He’s gone out of
his way to leave those two words emblazoned on my
locker, my books and on the walls of the toilet. Now
loads of the school refer to me by that name, which has
pleased him no end. However, being embarrassed at school
obviously just wasn’t enough for him so he decided to go
public. That’s why the attack; he wanted to publicly
humiliate me, which he did. I had to walk home wearing a
loose fitting, soaked diaper (I was crying and scared)
and it must have made his day as he held me down and in
fear began to pee myself.
He and his mates
took photos, cheered about the ‘fun’ we were all having
but left me crying in a heap and I still had to find my
way the mile and a half home wearing what I had on and
looking like I did. It was a warm afternoon but it
didn’t seem to faze anyone that a boy my age should be
crying and wearing a sagging nappy; although, at that
time of day it was mostly school children on their way
home and not many grown-ups. No one stopped to offer me
help. Even other pupils from the school crossed over the
road or giggled at my distress, no doubt knowing it was
Cuddy’s doing and not wanting to be the next in line for
his ‘practical jokes’.
When I arrived
home my school uniform was strewn around the garden,
everything that is apart from my underpants. I got the
message - they thought I was a baby and didn’t need ‘big
boy’ pants. Cuddy’d whispered this at school and also
while he bundled me into my current disposable that,
with a dick like mine, I should always wear nappies.
than a little traumatised there was no one else at home
when I arrived so didn’t have to explain anything to
anybody. I picked up my clothes and let myself in and
waddled up to my room, the wet disposable sagging
dangerously low as I climbed the stairs. I stood in
front of the mirror and surveyed myself. My eyes were
dark rings, tearstains ran down my cheeks and yet, those
two words ‘Baby Dick’ emblazoned on the now pitifully
full disposable didn’t hold any horror for me. In fact,
since my situation had become common knowledge, the
taunting and comments had strangely made me more
popular… well, perhaps what I mean is, more people knew
who I was - ‘Baby Dick’.
I’d never been
popular at school, not that I didn’t have friends but to
be popular you had to be someone, or have done
something, and that just wasn’t me. I excelled in being
the very opposite of astounding.
However, back to
my mirror image - I haven’t worn a nappy since I was
three years old, and, although my penis hadn’t grown a
great deal since, the doctors said that my small penis
is just nature – some people have massive ones, others
small, whilst most are just normal. Its size had never
really bothered me because until the comments at school,
it wasn’t an issue. However, with all the name calling
and references to me being a baby I began to think more
and more about what it would be like being a toddler
again and not have to put up with all this aggravation…
and surprise, surprise, I didn’t mind the idea.
probably why, in my dreams, the doctor was telling my
parents my small penis was my way of saying I wanted to
be a baby – that dream (and the hundred or so times a
day ‘Baby Dick’ was shouted at me across the school
yard) had a strange effect on me. It sort of instilled
that idea deep in my conscious and subconscious.
here’s the strange part, I’d had similar dreams before
the Cuddy incident. These last two nights hadn’t been
the only ones where I was a toddler. The difference was,
in the current dreams it was me insisting on being
treated as a little kid. Before, in fact way before, I’d
had thoughts and dreams where I was a baby, and it
wasn’t just my family insisting that’s what I should be,
it was everyone. These mental images would just swamp in
and for a few seconds it would be like... real... but
then I’d come to my senses and just get on with whatever
it was I was doing... and more or less tried to ignore
I was standing
still looking at myself in the mirror when I peed a
little more. The full disposable warming slightly but
under the extra weight finally gave up hanging on and
collapsed to the floor leaving me staring at my mini
To me it didn’t
look that small, except in comparison to my brother
Paul; who has quite a large one. I know he’s sixteen and
more developed than me but he and my sister take after
my father’s side of the family, whilst I take after mum.
So, whereas dad is tall and strong, mum is blonde and
petite and that’s who I get my slim physique and blue
I suppose in
other ways I haven’t kept up to my classmates in
maturity- for instance, I still haven’t sprouted much in
the way of pubic hair, my voice doesn’t appear to have
broken and the things I like on TV are more likely stuff
that a seven or eight year old might prefer. Oh yes, you
know the menagerie I spoke about, I take it in turns
sleeping with them all. I love cuddling my stuffed
animals and have never once thought it odd doing so even
at my age.
Mum has had me
at the doctors on several occasions and tests have
indicated that there is no growth problem, it will all
sort itself out and that I’m quite normal, just
developing at a different rate to everyone else.
youngest in the family has always meant that I’m treated
as the baby, someone who needs looking after. Both my
brother and sister have always been very supportive and
loving. As a tot I was always hopping from my bed and
creeping into theirs if I got scared or had a bad dream.
I was never thrown out. I remember Paul once saying he
enjoyed these times because he could protect his little
brother. Helen remarked that she loved it because I was
like a warm, wriggly little teddy bear. Even as I’ve
gotten older they seem to still think of me in this way
– I’m still their baby brother. Both they and my parents
are highly protective of me and I’m so glad to live in
such a loving household.
another school day; I arrived and everyone was laughing
and pointing at ‘Baby Dick’. Even my close friends were
smiling and nodding as if they were in on some fantastic
secret. I was soon to find out what they all knew and I
Posters of me
wearing the disposable, with a very yellow front, which
I’m sure had been photo-shopped, had been erected around
the school yard as well as on some noticeboards in
school. It took the teachers sometime to collect them
all and then the inquest started.
Of course I
accused Cudthorpe but he and his friends denied
everything, even saying that I’d been spreading lies
about them and that they wouldn’t be surprised if I
hadn’t done it myself to gain some kind of notoriety. Of
course no teacher believed this accusation but, without
evidence one way or the other, they couldn’t go any
further with mine.
break time I was surprised how many people were
sympathetic to my situation and thought how brave I was
to remain in school. Of course there were still those
who were glorying in my embarrassment but because of
those who were more supportive I didn’t let them bother
me as much.
There was a
school full of kids now aware that I’d been wearing a
nappy, whether they thought it was voluntary or not I
don’t think mattered to them. So, as each passed they
patted my bum to see if ‘Baby Dick’ was wearing one to
school. It got pretty annoying but I was powerless to
stop it. I think they were very disappointed when they
couldn’t feel any padding.
“Baby Dick, why
aren’t you wearing your nappy?”
Some accused as
if they’d been cheated of the opportunity to see for
themselves this baby in their midst.
should be in a nappy” was whispered when some people
passed by, other times it was hollered across the
playground so ignoring it was more difficult.
However, one boy
in particular was very sympathetic; his name Quentin,
Quentin Timothy Farron to be exact, who was the butt of
everybody’s nastiness. He was around the same age and
size as me, except where I was blond he was dark, but
he’d accrued the accolade of being the school’s BIG
“Sissy” was spat
at him at every opportunity but he didn’t appear to
mind, if he did he hid it well. He was gently spoken,
unassuming and impeccably dressed... three points that
made him definitely, as far as the rest of the school
was concerned, a huge certified sissy.
Although I knew
him as we were in the same class, we weren’t particular
friends even though we did have quite a bit in common.
Neither of us were good at sport, we couldn’t throw a
ball to save our lives, and gym was a constant torture.
We were scared of swimming and clung to the floats as if
our lives depended on it, which as far as we were
concerned it did. We were both unhappy about appearing
naked (apart from swimming trunks) in public and always
wrapped a towel around us when we changed. We preferred
our own company but were frequently disturbed by other
kids and older bullies venting their hostilities on us.
Quentin had a
good way of scaring his adversaries off... he just
screamed as loudly as he could until, a teacher came.
Usually by then his aggressors would have run off so he
was left to explain himself to the grown-ups. He would
just shrug and go about his business.
When I was in a
similar position I usually got verbally and physically
abused... often punched by these macho bullying kids...
but I stayed painfully silent and intimidated. Although
few people laid a finger on Quentin, I don’t know if
that was because his dad was a cop or what, but even
though he was constantly being picked on, he didn’t
suffer the bruises I often came away with.
Farron (or Quite The Fuckup as it said on his
monogrammed school bag once) saw the wounded look on my
face as everyone around was laughing at the poster-sized
images of me in a disposable.
“This is awful,”
he whispered as he nervously approached. “I hope those
bullying cunts die.”
I was shocked by
his language (it was a word I’d heard but never used and
in fact I wasn’t sure what it meant). His mother was
well known in the church group and his father was high
up in the police force, so it came as a bit of a
surprise he even knew such an expression.
He patted my
shoulder. “I hope you’ll be okay...”
And that was it
as he drifted off to class.
For a bullied
sissy he certainly carried himself well; no cowering,
trying to hide away. He had a certain elegance; from his
pristine school uniform and well-polished shoes, right
through to his quiet but determined personality. He was
the only one who actually seemed genuinely upset on my
behalf and I appreciated his bravery in even speaking to
me at that point.
That night I
wasn’t sure if word about the incident would get to my
parents so I decided to get it out in the open and tell
them what had happened. They were suitably angry with
the victimization and the cruel ‘prank’ that had been
played on me. They wanted to make a big deal about it,
threatening to complain to the school and taking issue
with Cuddy but I begged them to let it drop. Paul wanted
to beat Cuddy up but as much as I love my big brother, I
don’t think even he would come off better between Cuddy
and his gang. Cuddy was a bully but he was also an out
and out thug.
All I could see
was things getting worse and Cuddy being pleased with
himself for thinking he was making my life a misery. He
was the type of person, from that type of family,
who revelled in their own controversial reputation. No
one liked them, and everyone gave them a wide berth,
they delighted in their notoriety.
day and my locker and desk were stuffed full of
disposables and an assortment of baby gear. It
seemed that a few ‘jokers’ had stolen their baby
brother’s and sister’s trappings and loaded it on me. I
nearly threw up when I discovered a shitty and soaked
disposable shoved in my locker but I didn’t want to give
the audience that had gathered the satisfaction.
Once again what
was meant as humiliation had a very strange effect. I
gathered up all the baby products (except the soiled
nappy) and piled them into my locker with every
intention of sorting through them at home because an
idea was fermenting in my brain.
desperately trying to look hurt and hard done by. I
attempted to appear careworn and upset by it all but the
truth was, all these things had given me an opportunity;
it was an opportunity I was keen to exploit.
Once I got home
(I walked with friends now) I let myself in and, armed
with a backpack full of baby stuff, headed up to my
room. I knew it would be an hour or so before anyone
else got in so I spread out the contents to examine
precisely what my ‘school mates’ had left by way of a
One thick terry
One pair of see
thru plastic pants
Set of four
large safety pins
A toy duck
And lastly a bib
that had ‘Mummy’s messy girl’ written in white on a pink
background (it still had the remains of some child’s
meal crusted into it).
What a witty lot
my fellow students were.
pondering for a little while, wondering if at thirteen
what I was planning on doing was a good or bad idea.
There was no
doubt about it, certain things had been buzzing around
in my head for some time now. Whether this was made more
apparent because of the ‘Cuddy incident’, or because
that merely seemed to confirm something else, I wasn’t
too sure. What I did know was that the last few dreams
I’d been having all pointed to me wanting to wear a
nappy... to be a baby.
desire didn’t seem to be that much of a ‘big deal’ to
me. Although I hadn’t worn a nappy since I’d been potty
trained, my dreams indicated that I wasn’t averse to the
idea. Indeed, it could be argued (possibly) that I’d
simply been putting off the inevitable.
I stood for a
few moments naked in front of the mirror. I ran my hands
over my soft juvenile body and cupped my balls. I have
small hands so my genitals felt the right size; warm,
smooth and soft resting in my palm. I ran my other hand
over my bottom and turned slightly to see what I looked
like. It was as if I was looking at myself for the first
time with any degree of judgement. In the past it was
simply my body and though I lived with it, I had never
either inspected it or given it much thought... but now?
When I mentally
conjured up thoughts of my friends at school I could see
the difference in our developments, or rather, my lack
of such. Kevin, my best mate, although the same age as
me was hairy, well-developed and very much a boy; I, on
the other hand, was very much an underdeveloped version
of myself and still maintained the supple outline of a
child. Perhaps surprisingly, my small, immature physique
didn’t worry me… it was just the way I’m made but,
nagging away in some dark recess, was an urge… and an
urge I was about to explore.
I reached for
the terry towel square and folded it like I thought was
appropriate. I had never done this before so it was only
through having seen such things done on TV that I
thought I had an idea about how these things worked. I
lay it out on my bed and grabbed a couple of the pins.
Pulling it up between my legs I thought the material
felt quite rough and couldn’t really imaging a baby
liking such a thing pinned around its bits and bobs.
thought how much more comfy the one I was forced to wear
by Cuddy just a few days earlier had been. Despite the
trauma at the time I was now comparing that scary and
forced incident onto what I was doing myself. It felt
really odd, even briefly, to be thinking in such a way
but the forced disposable felt a lot softer than the
fabric one I was trying to fit into.
after several unsuccessful attempts, I finally managed
to pin it into place. The material felt coarse but, as I
lay on the bed, my reflection looked fine. I sat up and
slowly waddled over to the mirror for a better
inspection. There was no huge bulkiness to it, although
I thought the big pins made it look suitably childish,
but was very loose and immediately sagged around my
I bent down and
shimmied it back up my thighs, grasping tightly to the
material and wondering how to make it stay up.
pants help hold it in place.”
It was Helen my
sister at my bedroom door. Obviously I’d been
daydreaming for longer than I’d thought and time had
simply slipped by without noticing.
I was a little
stunned to hear her words, and although I was slightly
anxious at what she might be thinking, I really wasn’t
that worried about her discovering what I was doing.
“I’m not sure I
want that…” I said as I ran my hands over the fabric,
“these feel really rough.”
She came up
behind me and looked at all the items laid out on the
“More stuff left
by the school jokers...” I tried to explain.
She nodded and
examined the plastic pants.
“Not sure if
these will fit but…”
She picked them
up and stretched them as wide as they’d go and spread
them out for me to attempt to climb into.
They were tight
but she shuffled them up my legs and the nappy was
gripped firmly and held in place. It was as if she
thought a nappy wasn’t a strange thing to see me dressed
She stood back
and inspected her handiwork.
sure…” she smoothed them out and pushed any of the
exposed material behind the plastic cover. “Well, are
It didn’t even
occur to me that Helen had not found any of this process
strange. She had seen I needed help and simply pitched
in as she’d always done if I was in difficulties or
needed a problem solved.
She stood behind
me and we saw each other in the mirror. Even though she
was only a couple of years older than me, she looked so
much more mature. I was smaller than her and, with her
youthful breasts more than adequately filling the front
of her school blouse she looked like a girl bursting
into womanhood. On the other hand, the image that stared
back at me was that of an immature boy who didn’t look
out of place wearing a nappy.
The thing was,
at that moment, and with my big sister in charge, I
wasn’t unhappy about my situation.
“I guess all
this has something to do with last Friday?” She
whispered in my ear.
I nodded but
added. “Yes but, erm, well, it’s something more… I
mean…” I shrugged suddenly unable to
voice my concerns.
“What is it
Mikey… you know you can talk to me about anything.”
It’s true I
could. In fact, our family didn’t like secrets and more
especially didn’t like to see anyone suffer if they
My head was a
jumble of things to say, though I’m not certain if I
could have put it into any semblance of thought.
Was I trying to
reclaim my independence by showing ‘them’ that they
couldn’t intimidate me?
Was I using
‘their’ joke back against them by wearing it to prove
their little japes had no effect?
What was the
I pointed to my reflection again, “what do you see?”
“Just my favourite little brother.”
She hugged me.
little… L.I.T.T.L.E. I’m not growing up…”
“But you will
Mikey; we all grow at different speeds and…”
I know she was
trying to be sympathetic but that wasn’t what I wanted
to say to her.
not it. I… I… erm… I… ummm…”
patiently whilst I got my thoughts into some kind of
“Erm… when Cuddy
and his friends forced me into that disposable… umm…
although I was terrified by it all…errr… when I thought
about it… ummm… it wasn’t so... bad.”
I was watching
Helen in the mirror to see how she reacted to what I was
She sighed and
then ran her hand over my plastic pants.
“Are you saying
that you think you might like… this?”
“I don’t know.
What I do know is that for quite some time now I’ve…
I’ve felt like Peter Pan… you know… never gonna grow
“Has it been
“Well, erm, what
has been worrying me is that I’m thinking about it all
As I was saying
this I could hear “Baby Dick”, “Baby Dick”, “Baby Dick”
being chanted in my head.
“I don’t know
what to say Mikey.”
Nor did I.
All I really knew was that Cuddy making me wear
what he did seemed somehow to make sense. Although I
cried all the way home and was embarrassed by the event…
it wasn’t the actual nappy that caused it. It may have
been the realisation about me.
I looked down at
my feet in shame at what I’d just told my sister and I
could see my toes awkwardly curling up in the carpet.
The dreams I’d been having recently also filled my head
and all I could think about were the doctor’s words “He
wants to be a baby.” At that same moment, and totally
unannounced, I felt a spurt of pee shoot into the front
of my nappy.
action came from I have no idea although seconds later
remembered that I’d peed in the disposable last Friday
without giving it much thought.
I felt my nappy
grow warm and there was no disputing what I’d done as
the front of the coarse fabric began to absorb the
liquid and turn a slight off-yellow colour.
Helen looked on
“Oh Mikey… have
you just wet yourself?”
With a shiver of
recognition I just sadly nodded.
I shrugged my
shoulders and shook my head.
my sister was immediately on the ball.
“Look, you can’t
stay wearing this…” Again she stroked
the front of my slippery plastic pants. “You aren’t
wearing any nappy rash cream and if you stay in it too
long it will begin to irritate.”
Those nights of
babysitting the neighbour’s kids were really paying off.
She was already
pulling the tight-fitting plastic pants down and with
them came my soaked nappy.
I was like a
statue – I just let it happen. I was too stunned to say
or do anything but Helen eased me out of the wet things
and grabbed a towel from on top of my drawers. She wiped
me down and sent me off to the bathroom to sponge myself
When I arrived
back Helen had found some cream and powder and had a
disposable unfurled and ready for me.
“I’m not sure
that’s a good idea.” I said in a quiet voice as I peered
out from behind the thick towel I was drying myself on.
As usual my
sister was determined and matter-of-fact.
raised her eyebrows so I knew she meant business. “You
appear to be going through some strange shi… er…
problems at the moment and if you don’t even realise
when you piss your pants, you need to take some
precautions until you can work out…”
“No, no I’ll be
okay it’s just…”
“You’re not okay
Mikey. Something is happening in your head and until
you… or we… can work out what it is… you need to stay
By this time
she’d taken me by the arm and led me over to the bed
where everything was laid out.
“So, for the
time being at least let’s get you sorted so we have some
degree of control...”
finish what she was saying as a look of determination
came over her face and started rubbing cream into my
tiny penis and balls. This was followed by a blanket of
powder (which had me giggling there was so much of it)
and finally she taped the disposable into position.
Feeling the soft
thick disposable being pulled up between my legs
reminded me of when Cubby and his mates had done the
same – thankfully, there were no slaps or punches. Helen
was much gentler. However, the fit was a lot tighter and
I could get up off the bed without feeling it was going
to fall down at any moment… also I wasn’t crying.elen
had sorted out some powderH
She tossed me my
pyjamas and indicated I should put them on and even
though it wasn’t yet 6pm, I did as suggested.
Luckily my pjs
were fairly loose and the bottoms easily pulled over the
slightly more bulky underwear. However, there was no
denying the bulge that now occupied that area. Whereas
my usual small genitals hardly produced a tiny lump, now
with the padding I’d gained a profile of some
Yep, the baby
padding had given me a bulge where I hadn’t had much of
one before; I snickered to myself at this apparent
was ploughing through the rest of the items I’d brought
She tossed aside
one of the disposables and the dirty bib.
“These will be
way too small.”
She shrugged as
she checked the toys and dummies but after looking at
the array of stuffed animals surrounding the room tossed
them back on the bed.
She picked up
the wet nappy and plastic pants and said: “These will
need washing and you’ll need a bit more padding so that
it doesn’t feel so rough.”
I shrugged and
nodded, I wasn’t sure what to think but I quite liked my
reflection – standing in just my pjs with the obvious
lump at my crotch. I ran my hand over it and it felt so
smooth; I was grateful for that soft, yet flattering,
Helen watched as
I teased the fabric under my pjs and in all honesty I
was enjoying the surprising comfort it offered. I
stroked my padded backside and loved the squashy cushion
that now made up my rear.
“Helen, is it
wrong… you know… to… ermmm… like…”
“Mikey, we all
like different things… I can’t say how mum and dad will
I pulled my
pyjama bottoms down and looked more closely at the way
Helen had fastened the disposable. I liked the way the
tapes dragged the material in tightly over my tummy, I
liked the smoothness of the white, shiny,
plastic-looking fabric holding me in such a comfortable
My head was full
of strange thoughts. Was all this baby stuff from school
planned? Was I being led into a state of mind I had no
control over? Was I letting my imagination run away with
There was no
denying liking what I was seeing in my reflection. My
small frame seemed to compliment the disposable and a
sense of the inevitable shuddered through my body. Why
was I so happy about all this?
The nappy and
plastic pants had looked good to me but this looked
better. I wondered if plastic pants would improve the
look but as Helen had them in her hand, and they were on
their way to be washed, I didn’t get a chance to check.
However, I was very pleased with what I was wearing and
couldn’t stop stroking myself and watching my mirror
image. The expression on my face was one of wonder and
Helen watched my
reaction for a few seconds before adding.
is home you need to tell them your thoughts and what’s
happening to you.”
I looked her in
“Can’t I just…?”
this…” and she indicated not only my padded outline but
the rest of my room, “is who and what you are now” She
paused before she went on. “But, you might feel
different in a week, maybe a month or so… and I think
you’ll appreciate the family being with you on whatever
My sister speaks
so much better than my mind works. I’d never be able to
find the correct words. I’m hopeless at getting my point
of view over even in class. I just tend to go along with
what everyone else decides but, this was about me and
I’d never got anything less than total support from my
family. Of course I wasn’t going to argue with Helen; I
didn’t argue with anybody, I’d do as I’m told.
“I’m off to
start making dinner… mum and dad will be home in half an
hour,” She heard the door slam downstairs. “Sounds like
Paul’s home … I’ll put these on to wash as well” She
said as she exited the room waving my wet nappy.
I was alone with
my reflection. I saw the rattle on the bed and was drawn
to it. I’m not sure why a baby should find such
entertainment in the noisy thing but after a couple of
shakes I grew bored.
I picked up a
dummy and wondered about trying that out. It looked
clean enough but I had no idea where it had been so
passed on that for the time being. However, surprisingly
I found as I was looking around and thinking I was
sucking my thumb.
I lay out on my
bed and found it incredibly easy to relax; there was
definitely something about wearing a nappy that made me
feel ‘different’. I sucked my thumb
more, closed my eyes and just let go. Without any effort
on my part I filled the front with a slow warming pee
before I drifted off to sleep.
Mum was home
first and Helen had a quick chat explaining what she’d
discovered with Michael.
“I think that
incident last week with the school bullies has had more
of an effect than he’s letting on.”
why do you say that?” She replied whilst taking off her
coat and hanging it up in the hallway.
She told her
about the conversation and what Mikey had said then
beckoned her upstairs to see for herself.
surprised to see her youngest, fast asleep, with his
thumb slick between his lips and wearing what was
obviously a disposable peaking over the top of his jammy
After what she’d
just been told she was shocked but her heart went out to
mite… he looks so vulnerable.”
slipped her finger under his waistband, “and he’s wet
realised I’d dropped off yet here was mum smiling down
and encouraging me to ‘wake up’.
“Oh sorry, must
have dozed off.” I mumbled an apology. “What time is
“It’s not late
but,” she patted my padding, which I suddenly grasped I
still had on and was wet. “I think we need to sort
something else out first.”
I looked across
at Helen wondering if she’d said anything. She was just
smiling and nodding in an encouraging way.
Mum’s voice was
pleasant, she didn’t appear cross or anything, but I
think she could tell I was a bit embarrassed and
I was left
wondering... I wasn’t sure what to make of this
development. However, there was no
concealing the fact I was wearing a wet nappy.
I wasn’t sure if
mum meant me to go down as I was or change and then go
down but my thoughts were a little cockeyed so I thought
I’d better get a move on and go as I was.
I arrived at the
table where mum, dad, Helen and Paul were already
seated. I hung nervously in the doorway not sure what to
say or do but dad just smiled and told me to come and
take my seat.
I did but
crinkled as I sat down and was sure someone was going to
laugh... in fact they all did but it wasn’t mocking
laughter, more a ‘share your joke’ type of thing.
“Well son,” dad
started, “this is quite a development.”
Mum took up the
“You’ve had a
terrible few days sweetheart, and we all know it must be
very disturbing and, we want to support you in any way
“I’d like to
beat the crap out of him...”
“I don’t think
violence is the answer”. Mum and dad said as one but my
brother held his defiance.
“We can see it’s had an effect on you.”
I wriggled in my
thick wet disposable which crinkled softly now I was sat
“Mum, dad,” I
looked around the table, “there’s, erm, um, more to it
than Cuddy and his gang.”
I knew this next
bit of the conversation was going to be hard but I was
desperate to get it out of the way before mum started
bringing food to the table. Besides, I’d been thinking
about it for some time even if I hadn’t realised it...
had planted a thought.
had been most definite.
showed the way.
undeveloped penis (my baby dick) was making itself
known. The dream in the doctor’s office wasn’t a one
off, similar dreams had plagued me for many months, and
I just hadn’t grasped what they were trying to say.
Meanwhile, as if
to make itself more noticeable, my tiny member had been
observed and commented on in the gym changing room, had
been cartooned in the boy’s toilets, had appeared
graphically on my school books and then Cuddy and his
mates made sure I knew everyone else knew what they knew
- I was a baby pretending to be a teenager.
How such a bully
knew before I did I’m not sure but one thing was for
sure – I didn’t disagree with that assessment? The
punches, trips and kicks followed me around, as if I was
being told it would only stop when I admitted my failing
– Yes, I was a baby pretending to be a teenager.
It was as if my
willy, my micro-penis, was mocking me for wanting to be
anything other than a sweet, loving little baby who
needed to wear a nappy rather than a pair of
underpants... they were for Big Boys.
whispered as much as he and his gang had stripped me and
laughingly ripped off my briefs and replaced with a
much more appropriate,” he said through a sly but
“That’s what a
baby should be wearing.”
He couldn’t help
but adding to the amusement of his friends.
“My baby brother
has more of a dick then you... and he’s three months
slaps to my belly that followed hurt, now I was wearing
a nappy, they didn’t seem to carry the same intensity. I
don’t know why but I think it was the group all taking
shots of me with their phones that upset me the most. As
it turned out, I was right to be worried about those
My family looked
on as I searched for the correct words. I wriggled in my
soaked nappy thinking... this is what I deserve, this is
who I am... this is... this is... I couldn’t finish my
thoughts as, without any help from me, more warm golden
pee flowed in to my nappy as if to confirm everything I
I’ve always been the baby of the family.” There were
smiles of acknowledgement from everyone, “but sometimes
I feel...” there was a pause before I could go on. “I
want it to stay that way.”
I’d come this
far but was now lost for words as to where to go with my
“Is that why
you’re wearing the nappy?”
It was dad’s
voice but surprisingly he didn’t sound angry like I’d
shame-faced. I couldn’t look at anyone now and cast my
eyes down to the saggy bulge I was sitting in - at that
moment it was most unappealing.
After a moment’s
silence Paul piped up in a soothing voice.
“Should we treat
“Do you need us
to treat you more as a grown-up... have we all been
treating you as our little boy too much?” This was mum’s
Helen had the room and looked across at Paul, “I don’t
think it’s any of that. I think Mikey likes the way we
treat him but wants... more of...erm, ummm, how it used
silence around the table as her words were digested.
I didn’t dare
break the silence but thought it was up to me to say or
“Mum, dad,” I
looked to my brother and sister, “I like wearing
nappies... they make me feel... loved... safe.”
sweetheart,” mum soothed, “we love you loads...”
“Yes I know,” I
interrupted, “I love you all as well but, well, a nappy
adds... I can’t explain it but, erm, um, I just like the
feeling it gives me.”
I now couldn’t
look at any of my family I was wondering if they thought
I was mad.
It was dad who
spoke next and his response surprised me.
always be the baby of the family,” he grinned, “there’s
no way out of ever being anything but the youngest. We
are a family who likes, loves and supports each other
all the time. Your mother and I only want the best for
He looked around
“But, and this
is perhaps paramount... we want you all to be happy
and... providing it hurts no one else, family or
otherwise, you’ll always get our backing.”
He looked to mum
nappies in some way makes your life better... we’d
rather you lived it openly and happily rather than being
secretive and ashamed... so... if it’s what you want...
what you need... then back to nappies it is for our
I was shocked at
how dad reacted and I daren’t look to see how the others
had but then there was going to be a lot of discussion,
chat and no doubt disagreement over the next few days.
How was this
going to work?
Mum must have
read my mind.
“Okay, before we
get into the whys and wherefores... let’s eat.”
The meal started
off in a subdued mood. I wasn’t sure what to say and I’m
not sure anyone else did either. I was very aware of the
tiniest movement I made there was a crinkle and squishy
noise, which eventually brought the first ‘baby’ comment
“Would you like
me to cut that up for you?”
I could see he
was gauging the reaction of the family.
struggling with the rather nice cheese and courgette
pasta mum had made so I just grinned back.
definitely some uneasiness around the table but Paul
just looked up and said “What?”
continued. “If we don’t know the parameters, how can we
deal with what Mikey wants? So, did you find me asking
that question funny or demeaning?”
addressing me so I just grinned sheepishly and said
that’s how it was intended. I love my little brother and
I don’t want to subject him to any aggravation but I’m
not sure how far we... sorry... he wants us to go.”
This was what
was needed and over the meal we spent a lot of time
discussing just how much of a baby I wanted to be. Mum
and dad both said I’d still have to go to school as that
was the law but, if I wanted to wear a nappy under my
uniform... that was fine.
It felt really
strange sitting at the table eating and chatting whilst
squishing around in my soaked nappy but I suppose there
was a lot to discuss. I think my sogginess had all but
been forgotten as the various subjects were brought
“Wake up honey.”
realised I’d dropped off yet here was mum looking down
and encouraging me to ‘wake up’.
“Oh sorry, must
have dozed off.” I mumbled an apology. “What time is
“It’s not late
but...” she patted my padding, which I suddenly grasped
I still had on and was wet... and I was still in bed.
Oh no! I
thought. I’d just dreamed my situation. Nothing has been
resolved, my family aren’t on-board with my desire and
I’m wearing a particularly soggy nappy which, looking up
at mum, she’s none too pleased about.
now.” She ordered.
“But I’m wet...
and be quick about it... and... just as you are.”
now a little scared, I dragged myself from my nice warm
bed but in so doing, noticed the bed sheets were a
little damp. The sogginess of my nappy made it drag down
my pyjama bottoms, I didn’t want to be seen like this
but mum’s tone told me not to disobey her instructions.
Holding my saggy nappy up with one hand I ventured down
stairs and into the kitchen where the family were
gathered for the evening meal.
I stood at the
kitchen door feeling very conspicuous... this was not
the way I wanted to introduce me and nappies to the
To begin with I
don’t think dad or Paul had any idea what was up. Helen
of course was well abreast of my feelings and mum was
simply confused by them. So, it was with extreme
embarrassment I saw realisation dawning on the male
members of the family.
“Are you wearing
(sniff) a wet nappy,” Paul asked slightly
“Has that twat
Cuddy made you do it again? I’ll swing for that
let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” Mum was warning Paul
but looking at me. “There may well be a rational
explanation for all... this.”
around the table was unmistakable, then I realised they
were waiting for me to say something.
uneasily in my squelchy nappy and thought I’d tell them
about my day.
entire school is now aware of me being forced in to a
“Thanks to that
bastard...” Paul was silenced by a look from mum.
‘friends’,” I did the universal ‘air quotation marks’ as
I spoke the word friends, “my locker and everywhere I go
is decorated with baby stuff.”
I looked around
to see what impression my words were making but I hadn’t
got to the good bit yet; why I was wearing a wet nappy?
only were their words reminding me of my small penis...
erm... they’d left nappies and stuff around... and
seemed hell-bent on getting me to wear them.”
It was awful
having to confess the next bit.
“So, I brought
all the stuff they’d left in my locker and around the
place home and thought I’d do just that.”
Mum seemed to have some sympathy.
my dreams my parents had been at the doctor’s office and
knew about the ‘micro penis thing and according to him
was a sign of wanting to be a baby I thought they
already knew about my worries. Of course they had no
idea what I was talking about, or how effected I was by
the dream and then by Cuddy and then by everyone else at
school getting in on the act.
“The thing is...
with them all telling me it’s what I should be wearing,
(Baby Dick has become a school chant when I’m around)
and, er, ummm, some dreams I’ve been having for quite
some time...” Now it was confession time. “It didn’t
seem a strange thing for them to expect because, well,
I’d already considered I should.”
what..?” Dad wasn’t sure of any of this. However, I
noticed Helen and she looked like she was approving of
my continued account.
going as well as I’d dreamt so I decided to explain to
the rest of the family exactly as I’d told Helen
earlier... about feeling little.
meal hadn’t been served and they listened to my
ramblings with the occasional nod, cough and associated
question. For the benefit of Paul I explained that
although Cuddy’s attack had been awful, the disposable
with Baby Dick written on it was the least of what
In fact, my
small penis, which everyone around the table tried to
assure me was only temporary, or might grow eventually,
was the catalyst to all my doubts and fears and I was
trying to understand (or make excuses) for the way I
finished and looked around at my family I couldn’t read
anyone’s opinion apart from Helen’s, her comforting hand
was touching mine.
“So, you think
you’re little so therefore you want to be treated as
little, a toddler, a...” Mum ran out words as to exactly
what she thought.
Dad tried. “So,
I’m not sure what you expect from us all. Personally, if
you want to wear a nappy that’s up to you but, and this
is a big but,” Paul couldn’t help himself and sniggered
at the thought of a big butt, “it’s going to be a lot of
work on your part.”
I liked the way
dad was speaking... well to begin with at least.
“Firstly; if you
do decide to wear nappies, then they will be your
responsibilities. I don’t see why your mum, or the rest
of us, needs to be involved in changing or washing extra
This wasn’t what
I wanted, I didn’t want any responsibilities but
when I thought about it, why should everyone else give
in to my strange desires? I had expected mum to
wash my dirty fabric nappies and hang them out to dry
and keep a supply coming. I had expected
her to rinse through my plastic pants and...
“I can just
about understand why you want what you want,” mum was
saying, “but we want you to be the thirteen year old you
are not a soggy little toddler.”
She said the
last bit with a pleasant smile.
“You may be
growing up slower than you feel you should but, you
are growing up and I’d hate to think we held back
your development for even one second.”
I don’t know why
I’d just assumed everyone would be on-board with my
nappy desire but this discussion was making me think;
what exactly did I want out of this and was it something
I could do myself?
As we sat, ate
and discussed the subject the saggy disposable began to
slightly irritate me. I wriggled around trying to get
comfortable. Thankfully mum noticed and asked if I might
be getting a nappy rash. She’d finished eating (I had a
while back) and suggested we go up, check and get
changed, she wanted to see how I coped if I was left to
my own devices.
was very wet and had become a bit lumpy in parts so I
was glad to get rid of it. Mum sat on the bed watching
as I removed it then inspected the damp area to see if I
had in fact got a rash – I had. She pointed out the red
area and explained about why having urine next to my
skin, without protection, could be a problem. She went
off and returned with a warm wash cloth and tubes of
something I wasn’t sure of.
Once I’d been
cleansed to her satisfaction she went on about the
various advantages to certain creams, lotions and
powders and all the time I was just standing in front of
her naked. I don’t think I’d spent so much time bare,
certainly not recently or in front of mum, as she
pointed out the areas I had to be meticulous about.
squirted some stuff from a tube onto her fingers and
began to thoroughly rub it into the slightly inflamed
areas. She’d also brought a tub of Vaseline and applied
a thick coating of that all around explaining why this
was beneficial if I was wearing a nappy.
I suddenly felt
myself slipping back to when this was normal. Mum
explaining things whilst I got my nappy changed. Despite
her saying she wanted me to grow up naturally, at that
moment I felt like the little boy I wanted to be – I
hugged her tightly and started to cry.
baby,” she whispered soothingly in my ear as she patted
my sticky naked bottom. “I know it’s been a hell of a
time for you recently. I’m not sure if wearing a nappy
will be useful but... if you think you need it... let’s
get you in one.”
I think she
thought my tears were because I was upset but in fact
they were tears of joy because of the way I felt. Mum
was giving me exactly what I wanted and even if it was
only going to last this once, I was grateful to mum for
her love. I hugged and kissed her cheek in thanks.
I am an
affectionate little tyke but I think it took mum by
surprise just how intense my feelings were. I watched
excitedly as she fluffed out the disposable and checked
she had it the right way round. By the time she’d
finally tightened the tapes together on one of my
‘gifted’ disposables I was smiling like toddler with a
new toy. The pyjamas I had been wearing were soaked and
she was obviously looking around for further protection.
“Do you have any
plastic panties sweetie?”
about Helen taking stuff to be washed, so she told me to
stay as I was and she’d be back in a moment.
carrying the plastic pants.
“She hadn’t got
around to washing these yet...” she pulled them up over
my nappy, “but I think there’s less chance of leakage if
for tonight at least we keep you safe and water tight.”
It felt strange.
What I mean is that mum putting me in a disposable and
being so attentive, it felt right and I was very
comfortable. The plastic pants gripped tightly and
glowed in the daylight as they strained to cover the
need some other plastic pants love... these are too
tight they’ll cut off your circulation.”
looked good I had to agree that they were pinching my
legs and waist and I was glad when she eased them off.
you’ll just have to make do with wearing a...”
had another idea and went to the bathroom and returned
with a small hand towel. She folded it to make extra
padding then slipped it in the disposable and re-taped
The padding was
huge and it was early yet so I’d have to wear only this
massive bundle until bedtime. I suppose I couldn’t
complain, having asked to be treated as a toddler to
then be treated as a toddler.
prevent too many leaks for tonight at least. I’ll get
you some plastic panties for tomorrow night.”
“Thanks mum.” I
whispered as I pecked her cheek.
Once I was in a
clean and fresh nappy, and even though it was quite
bulky, I did feel an awful lot more contented.
around the house as I was and got smiles from Big Bro
and Sis and a shrug from dad, he still wasn’t too sure
what to make of my sudden yearning. However, by the time
bedtime did come around, so had dad. In fact, it was he
who came up and chatted and tucked me in and no mention
was made of my nappy being strange... it was just a
normal family night.
morning I was extremely wet but realised I’d have to see
to myself as no one had volunteered to change me. As I
waddled to the bathroom mum noticed and said that it was
fine for me to wear what I liked at home but suggested
that for school I wear something more appropriate to my
age. I hadn’t been planning on wearing a nappy to
school, I thought it would be just too inconvenient, but
with mum’s words ringing in my ears there was no doubt
I’d be wearing my white briefs under my uniform... they
were similar to what about 50% of the boys wore anyway.
Once at school I
was still getting comments but the novelty of the poster
campaign, and the vigilance of the teachers, had calmed
things down. It wasn’t until last period that, as I
walked from one classroom to the next past the boy’s
toilets, that I was accosted by Archie Simmons. Archie
was one of Cuddy’s nastier henchmen, some sort of
demented cousin who most teachers were scared of and who
dragged me forcefully into the empty room.
especially boy’s toilets, have a particular smell and a
foreboding atmosphere at the best of times but being
held by the lapels by this brute really scared me and I
knew any scream for help wouldn’t be answered. It was a
generally known fact that if Cuddy and his gang was
inside... the toilet was the last place you wanted to be
so usually had the place to themselves.
time he’d managed to make the boy’s washroom a ‘no go’
area for teachers who used to check in on them to make
sure there were no smokers or anything untoward going
on. He’d complained about some innocent teachers hanging
around the toilet and complained to the headmaster that
he didn’t think it right that perverts should be
employed by the school. The ructions that caused meant
that he and his gang had free reign when it came to
occupying the toilet block with little or no supervision
from a patrolling teacher.
He smiled a most
cruel smile and with a cold stare that would instantly
solidify steam he said that Cuddy had noticed I wasn’t
wearing a nappy, even after he’d gone to such lengths to
provide me with one. That kind of disrespect could only
lead to some “...unpleasant consequences” (I thought
Cuddy must have given him the line because I knew he
wasn’t capable of coming up with such a phrase) and that
in future I’d be expected, as per Cuddy’s instructions,
to wear what a Baby Dick should wear in the company of
His threat was
chilling but the fact that I didn’t get punched at the
end of it (he just sort of rearranged my lapels as if he
was doing me a favour smartening my clothes up), left me
a jittering wreck. This was a new move; no violence just
verbal menaces that left you in no doubt as to the
consequences of inaction.
thought I’d got off pretty leniently because Archie had
a reputation of hitting first and then not bothering to
ask the question... that was until I felt the warm glow
around my crotch and noticed the wet stain grow. I’d
been so terrified my bladder had reacted to the threat.
I couldn’t spend any more time in the toilet but
splashed some water all down my front. It looked like
I’d been caught in a rainstorm by the time I got to
class but my excuse of a faulty tap was accepted by the
teacher, although there were comments of disbelief from
some of my classmates.
“Looks like he
really needs a nappy,” I heard being whispered between
some of the lads.
By the time I
got home I was almost dry and as I stripped off in my
room I saw that my pristine white briefs were now a
mucky pale orangey colour. It was quite weird really
because such a stain in my nappy never produced the
disgust I felt at that moment... and I wondered how I’d
get mum to let me wear nappies to school. Not that I was
scared... I was terrified if I didn’t comply. I didn’t
know what to do next, whether to try and find an
alternative, use what had been left in my locker or beg
mum to get me some disposables. I slipped into a pair of
gym shorts and set about doing my homework.
I think mum
sensed that something was wrong when she called me down
for tea. I’d not spoken to anyone other than a grunt of
acknowledgement when Helen asked if I was okay. However,
mum came in and noticed my dirty briefs and guessed I’d
had an accident. I didn’t tell her what really happened
but said that I’d just left it too late to get to the
I said I was
sorry but she had a package with her and opening it up
revealed she’d bought me several fabric nappies and
plastic pants, plus all the creams and lotions that I
associated with having to wear a nappy.
said displaying everything on my bed, “are for when
you’re feeling little and need the comfort of a nappy.”
She was very
matter of fact.
“I’ll help you
put them on to begin with but you’ll have to learn
yourself because I don’t intend on doing it forever.”
“If you feel the
need tonight I’ll come up and supervise when you go to
bed but for the moment, your gym shorts will do, so come
down for tea.”
I looked at the
stuff she’d bought and I was very happy. Despite her
saying she wasn’t delirious about me wanting to be
little, mum realised that I needed something and if she
could make me happy, then she would.
“Mum, I want to
wear protection at school.”
I didn’t explain
the most recent threat and she arched her eyebrows as if
to say “Tell me why”.
“I peed my pants
today and... and it shocked me... because I didn’t know
I was doing it.”
It was a lame
excuse and I’m not sure she believed me but I insisted.
“Look, I think I
can get to the boys room if and when I need to but... I
like the idea of protection just in case I can’t. Today
I had to pretend that a fast flow from the tap had taken
me by surprise and soaked my pants, I don’t think that
excuse would work again.”
In my head this
all sounded convincing but mum looked at me wearily.
eventually said, “it’s up to you. If you think you can
cope with that and the comments from your classmates...”
“Are you sure
you’ve thought this through sweetheart? I’m not sure the
teachers will be on-board with it.”
“I’d rather folk
didn’t know I’d wet my pants rather than worrying about
I whined in my
best whiney voice.
then... it’s your school friends but if any teacher has
reason to speak to me or your father... it has to come
to a stop... okay?”
What I didn’t
know at the time was that dad and mum had already
discussed all of this and dad was of the opinion that as
soon as I had to do everything for myself (including
washing nappies and plastic pants every morning) I’d
soon tire of the entire thing and revert back to
I nodded my
agreement because my spirits began to rise as I thought
about the new stuff she’d bought I’d so soon get to
wear. It was only later that it hit me that Cuddy and
his mates would be on at me straight away and I’d have
to prove I was wearing the ‘proper’ protection.
I didn’t sleep
much and even the comfort of a thick disposable didn’t
help. All I kept thinking about was Cuddy, and worse
still, Archie setting about me because I was wearing the
wrong thing. I thought about telling a teacher but knew
in the past that they only reacted to something
happening, not what a pupil ‘imagined’ might happen. In
the meantime, I hoped that the nappy and plastic pants
I’d decided to wear would be enough to stave off the
humiliation I hoped to avoid but I hadn’t banked on how
nasty (or cunning) Cuddy could be.
I got ready for
school myself. I was apprehensive but knew I couldn’t
escape what was to happen so hoped that by meeting it
face on I’d be better prepared. What I had envisioned
being a pleasurable experience, putting myself into
thick protection, was a nervy experience. I couldn’t
quite get the nappy to fold correctly or the pins to
hold it firm, in the end I had to ask mum to come and
help, which thankfully she did.
complained that I’d forgotten the golden rule and that
was to use copious amounts of anti-rash cream and powder
first off before the nappy was applied. Then she took
fastidious care in how it was put on and showed me the
secret of a tight fit; it was all down to the pinning.
As promised mum had bought me some plastic pants and
they were a thick, shiny white style that hugged
everything in place. I was then ready for the rest of my
uniform and I was surprised to see that the bulge wasn’t
as evident as I thought it might have been.
first day in a nappy at school, although anxious, it
wasn’t Cuddy and his chums that noticed. In fact, they
didn’t bother me at all and it was only Jeremy and his
mates in my class that mentioned I looked like I was
wearing a diaper (yes, they called it a diaper) and,
like everyone I’ve ever known, continually patted my
padding whenever they were in range. They weren’t nasty
about it, just sort of acknowledging it was probably a
sensible precaution with Cuddy on the warpath.
No one was in
any doubt that it had been Cuddy who had forced me into
a disposable and taken those photos to embarrass me, but
no one saw it happen so couldn’t come to my defence. Of
course there were those who loved to see others in
distress or being humiliated because it meant it wasn’t
they who were on the end of such cruelty. They even
cheered the demise of the weaker element and ganged up a
bit themselves, safe in the knowledge that they were at
least stronger than someone else. There is a lot of
bullying goes on at all levels of education and it’s not
always done by the pupils.
In fact, on the
fourth day of my nappies-to-school regime I learned that
Cubby and his mates had been suspended for a week owing
to a ‘disagreement’ with one of the teachers. So, I
hadn’t needed to wear them at all, which was a shame
because, I could have enjoyed wearing them if I
hadn’t been in constant fear about a sudden Cuddy
However, I was
wearing them 24/7 and was getting used to the feeling
they gave me. I’d taken on-board mum’s suggestions and
process and found that it did leave me feeling very
secure indeed. I was also getting used to wearing
plastic pants over the nappy and thoroughly enjoyed that
extra layer of protection.
surprised at how easily (and well) I took to washing my
own stuff, hanging it out to dry and wandering around
the house wearing nothing else. My brother and sister
smiled and patted my padded bum as I passed but no
negativity... it was in its own way quite thrilling.
At home I wasn’t
on edge and my nappies gave me the feeling I thought I
wanted. However, the fact that I wasn’t being treated as
a toddler was frustrating and none of my family would
play the game. The ridiculous thing; and it didn’t occur
to me straight away, was that Cuddy and his mates were
quite intent on treating me as a ‘no dick toddler’ and
was so scared of what they might do... I neglected this
important piece of data.
week Cuddy was back and just before the bell went at
school on Monday morning, Archie cornered me and marched
me into the boy’s urinals. There Cuddy stuck his hand
down the back of my pants and was gratified to feel the
silky rubber pants and padding.
“Well there’s a
good little Baby Dick.” His voice was slimy because he
thought he’d won a victory over me and I’d had no
alternative than to do as he commanded. I didn’t put him
as well... my baby brother wears these... you look
pretty much alike.”
He nodded to his
friends as if he was in total control of the situation.
Dick... every morning there’ll be an inspection by one
of us... so you’d better keep that baby padding on... or
there’ll be trouble.”
I think that
last bit was for the benefit of his gang, just to make
sure his threat was noted and of course to prove that
all the kids in school were pretty terrorised by him.
For the first time I relaxed a little because I had no
intention of wearing anything else. He wasn’t to know I
wore these at home and if he thought I was under his
influence and so scared I would wear a nappy just
because he said so, well, I, erm, um, well, I might be a
little scared but I wore because I wanted to. I
convinced myself of that.
desperately wanted to pee in my nappy, at school I
thought it better to rush to the boy’s toilets when I
needed to go. Although it was a bit of a faff to wriggle
my fingers up the leg hole and release my willy I
thought it better than changing myself there. Despite
the constant patting from Cuddy and his mates (and one
or two others who knew) the system seemed to be working
and for a week things were going as planned.
Monday morning at my inspection Cuddy was very
aggressive when he plunged his hand down the front of my
trousers. He could feel the plastic pants and padding
but there was something missing.
For the first
time in over a week I got scared.
“I gather you’ve
been using the boy’s toilets,” he snarled in my face.
“That’s not a place for little baby dicks like you. It’s
out of bounds from now on...” he paused. “I have eyes
everywhere so don’t think for a moment I won’t know if
you try to change your new rule.”
returned to his face as he smirked his latest command.
“From now on....
you’ll go in your nappy like the little baby dick you
He pulled down
my pants to reveal me standing there in just my
I was flummoxed.
I didn’t know how to respond except that I didn’t want
to wet myself there and then. However, the decision
wasn’t mine, he wanted me to pee my pants but I begged
him not to make me.
and smacked the back of my head and I knew his warning
was about to take on a more physical stance.
I willed myself
to pee and after a few more smacks to my head I
eventually squeezed out a spurt.
“Ohh more than
that baby,” he chuckled, “I want to see this thing
filled.” He patted my padded bottom.
after that first laboured spurt, the rest flowed with no
trouble and I could feel the warming glow as he squeezed
my nappy and felt its growing sogginess.
“That’s a good
baby... now you’ll be checked more regularly and that
nappy better be soaked every time or... I wouldn’t like
to be you.”
The threat was
uncompromising and I felt tears spring to my eyes.
satisfied he’d made me wet myself, his friends had
witnessed the power he had and, to top it all, I’d
cried. He swaggered off completely pleased with what
he’d done and boasting to his mates that they should
inspect my sopping padding at every opportunity. I’m not
sure that anyone wanted that particular task but they
did as Cuddy said... they didn’t want to be made to pee
their own pants on demand.
I was left with
my trousers around my ankles and a full and wet bloated
nappy I now had to contend with. I knew with the
departure of the gang that the braver elements of the
school would soon be using the facility and I had to
react quickly. I didn’t have anything to change into so,
with the warmth still spreading around my genitals, I
speedily hauled up my pants and got out as soon as I
What I didn’t
think about was there’d be an audience waiting to use
the toilet, too scared to enter whilst Cuddy was
conducting ‘business’ but a loud whisper began to
circulate that I’d wet myself even though I didn’t think
anyone could see. Perhaps I was naive enough to believe
Cuddy and his mates would have kept my secret - alas,
To begin with
the plastic pants kept it all contained but as the day
progressed, and more pee was added to the sodden
material, so the seepage began. I arrived home and both
the nappy and my trousers were wet through. I was
embarrassed because so many people knew I wore a
nappy... and still I wet my pants.
I hid all this
from my family. I thought I could deal with it myself
and I didn’t want mum and dad creating at school. Dad
had already said that if there was any comment from
staff and it was brought to his attention ALL my nappy
exploits would come to an end.
day I didn’t want to go to school but decided I’d double
the thickness by inserting a soaker pad or two and wear
the most robust rubber pants I had in my collection. The
problem this caused was the bulk was now incredibly
visible and there was no getting away from my pronounced
waddle. A couple of teachers asked me about it but I
said I was experiencing a bout of incontinence, so mum
had insisted I wear proper protection... she didn’t want
me to miss any classes. This seemed to allay any
suspicions, which I was pleased about.
Cuddy took it as
a personal triumph that I now had to wear double
thickness to collect a day’s pee and he and his mates
took great delight in making sure I was wet all the
time. When Archie got me alone one
time he even insisted I filled my nappy just for him.
This was one guy I didn’t dare refuse, which, judging by
his maniacal laughter once I’d done so, was the correct
“You are such a
fuckin’ baby aren’t you Smith?”
I knew it was a
rhetorical question but nodded anyway.
“Wearing a nappy
and fuckin’ pissin’ yerself... fuck... you should be in
a toddler group not here.”
I couldn’t have
agreed more. The wet thickness of my nappy was testament
to my juvenile status and it was only when Archie had
said what he had that I realised that Cuddy and his gang
were, perhaps without meaning to, giving me that babyish
element I was missing. Outwardly I was being forced to
do what I was doing yet inside... well... just let me
say my feelings were a little more complex.
Quentin had been the only person at school who offered
any kind of support, real support that is, my best mate
Kevin couldn’t quite get to grips with me wearing such a
bulky item under my trousers. Of
course I hadn’t told him about me wanting to be babied,
though he understood that Cuddy and his gang were out to
humiliate me as much as they could, he was drifting away
and spending more time with other friends.
Since that offer
of support I’d nodded the occasional acknowledgement to
Quentin but we’d not got close. He didn’t seem to be in
any rush to support me further, although he did look
down at my bulging groin, raised his eyebrows and pulled
a slight grimace. I think he was feeling sorry for me
yet I was desperate to say it wasn’t as bad as it
looked. I thought I could trust Quentin with the news
that all this ‘babying’ business and the forced nappy
wearing was actually fun for me and that I was happy to
use Cuddy and his gang of low-lives for my own benefit.
excuse for me wearing a nappy - I was currently
experiencing a period of incontinence (the reason was
never explained). However, because everyone had seen the
posters of me wearing just a disposable, and saw the
bulk under my trousers, everyone knew I was wearing
nappies now. Most believed it was down to Cuddy, a few
bought the excuse but no one suspected that I was
wearing because I wanted to. I was feeling very superior
at that moment... but I desperately wanted to share this
feeling with someone I thought might appreciate the
The school sissy
was quite surprised when I sidled up and started making
small talk with him.
conversation had only been going on for a few minutes
when already we were hearing comments about “... the
two sissies no doubt swapping recipes” or
“deciding on which knickers to wear” or “dress”
or... well, the chatter kept coming on what we would no
doubt be talking about... and none of it either amusing
It was like
water of a duck’s back for Quentin; he’d heard it all
before and didn’t rise to any of the effeminate digs
that were being bandied about.
“Aren’t you fed
up with all this... and... these insults?” I felt sorry
for him having had to put up with these constant put
downs since he started at senior school.
“To them I am
effeminate, I don’t do or like the things they do but I
don’t care. Mummy and daddy are happy with me being me
rather than trying to be something I’m not... and I like
being me.” Then he added with a dismissive shrug. “So
He saw my wry
I didn’t think
the fact he still called his parents mummy and daddy
particularly helped his case but he wasn’t bothered.
“I’ll play with
my dollies when I get home whether they like it or not.”
I wasn’t sure if
he was kidding or not but I didn’t get a chance to pose
the question as he changed the subject.
“You wear a
nappy now. Cuddy is forcing you to be something you’re
He saw the look
on my face change.
“or... I could
He waited for me
to say what was more obvious than I thought bubbling
under the surface of our conversation.
won’t say anything to... anyone?”
“Okay... but I
think I know what you’re going to say.”
I looked at him
as if to say “I don’t think so” but he did.
to wear nappies?”
It was both a
question and a statement and I suddenly wondered if
everyone knew and wasn’t actually kidding anybody.
“Ohhh God... how
did you know... is it that obvious... does everyone else
know?” I panicked.
Quentin got on
his superior high horse.
these people are morons,” he pointed to a group from our
class who were trying to come up with something funny to
say about us two being together. “Not a single original
thought in their stupid little heads... they wouldn’t
catch a nuance if it smacked them in the face.”
Of course, even
though his words carried with them a certain anger; his
voice was soft and gentle.
Close up he was
well-groomed, hair immaculate and his eyes sparkled with
life. In class he was top in most subjects, always first
with his hand up to answer a question and never cheated
or copied. He was bullied for answers by bigger, more
aggressive boys who tried to make him do their homework
but he couldn’t be manipulated much to the frustration
of the clods in class.
He returned to
the subject in hand.
“I just didn’t
see the anger one might expect when such embarrassing
images have been exposed to everyone.”
I turned red
because he seemed to read me so easily.
safe with me but, don’t underestimate Cuddy, he may be a
bully but he isn’t stupid...”
I nodded in
“He’ll have his
eye on you...”
“How do you
escape his claws?”
hoped he had some secret info on him he would share.
“Ohh, he’s tried
many times, he’s even had me crying and running to
teacher but then you came along and he seemed happier to
torment Baby Dick than the school sissy. I still get
shoved and mocked but a scream usually keeps them away
because I go public when they start on me.”
He looked around
the playground and pointed to a couple in our class who
had been more than happy to taunt me about wearing a
“Most aren’t as
tough as they pretend and Cuddy, who is very tough, can
do without the aggro him picking on me can cause for his
family... dad being a cop and all.”
He didn’t say
this with any pride it was all just so matter of fact.
think it’s the screaming that scares them away.” He
grinned and shrugged.
We chatted for
the rest of the break, occasionally being harassed by
some senior numbskull who thought he’d get in on the
act. By the end of the break I was quite in awe of the
school sissy and how he’d got himself sorted at such a
He even let slip
that he knew just how nice it was to wear a nappy and
patted my padding as if to emphasise the point. However,
he didn’t add anything further and as the school bell
had rung, it was back to class.
Over the next
few days nothing much changed. At home I was left to my
own devices so I had to do everything concerned with my
nappied life... no offers of help at all. Yet, at
school, Cuddy and his mates kept up the daily
humiliation of checking and making sure I was wandering
around school in a pee-filled nappy. It was strange to
see the absolute glee on their faces as they thought my
shame was all because of them. I made the correct
appeals to be left in peace and begging them to stop my
ritual degradation but they seemed to get a kick out of
probing down my pants, slipping past the plastic
protection and groping the squishy fabric underneath.
The tirade of
disgust and comments of me being “Nothing but a fucking
baby”, “a no dick nonce”, “a pissy little cunt”... the
name calling was all part of their humiliation.
It made me feel small and insignificant, as if I
had no control over what happened and yet... and yet...
I was getting a thrill from it all.
Quentin and I
had become beleaguered friends and spent the occasional
break in each other’s company. Normally he could be
found playing and talking with groups of girls and I
wasn’t invited into that set up but, when he was alone I
sought him out... I liked his friendship. It also had a
bonus effect when our ‘relationship’ (him being my sissy
girlfriend and all) was also thrown back in my face by
the gang as they pursued further ways to humiliate me. I
was now branded as a ‘sissy baby’ a ‘no dick sissy baby’
and various versions on the same theme that were
delivered with an elbow or trip by some Cuddy ‘wannabe’.
mentioned any of this to my family. They thought I was
being very daring in dealing with wearing a nappy to
school but as there had been no complaints or letters
home from any of the staff I was left alone nothing was
I stuck to my
duties of keeping my room and bedding clean. I’d
thoroughly wash whatever I’d wet and pegged out, then
the freshly laundered items would be collected nicely
dry when I returned home from school.
I’d become adept
at adding soaker pads and pinning the fabric tightly.
Once I added plastic pants I thought the silky bulge
where once I had nothing to show, now showed I had
The bulky bump
was what occupied my mind almost 24/7... it was a
complete experience. I loved wearing it, I loved
touching it, it felt so good hugging my little genitals
and though some mocked, I didn’t care. Often I couldn’t
even feel my genitals but that obvious, large, smooth
bump was still very gratifying. This huge lump had
become my genitals.
That was until
one day I was dragged into the boy’s toilet by Archie
and the entire gang was there.
Dick,” Cuddy’s voice had a strange tone to it. “It
appears that our wetting little baby seems happy to run
around in his soaked nappy all day.”
He looked happy
about the situation and what he’d achieved but then
“So, it’s time
he took the next step.”
I wasn’t too
sure what the next step was and he allowed me a minute
for it to sink in just exactly what it was he wanted me
I stood there
dumb (and shaking because I knew something was about to
take place that I wasn’t going to like) but didn’t move.
“Time our little
Baby Dick took a dump in his nappy... don’t you think?”
cheer went up from his gang.
I screamed “NO”.
This wasn’t something I’d ever planned on doing. The
idea of a messy nappy wasn’t on my radar and I’d avoided
even doing it by accident by making sure I was in a
regular routine and did it the moment I got up. However,
hands were dragging down my trousers and plastic pants
revealing my thick soaked fabric nappy. I’m sure to the
half dozen onlookers I appeared nothing more than a baby
about to be changed but Cuddy insisted.
“Come on Baby
Dick; fill your nappy like the little sissy I’ve heard
I shook my head
and pleaded with him not to make me. Tears were rolling
down my face but they were having no effect on the
“Come on, force
one out you big girl”, “...mess that nappy, you know you
want to”. There were more comments and insults that I
didn’t get as I cried to be let go.
Cuddy was in his
little one,” he soothed, “just squat down, like the
little kiddie you are and crap your nappy... I’m sure
you’ve done it many times... so come on... just for us.”
“I can’t,” I
screamed through tearstained eyes, “I’ve been... already
been... (hic) I can’t...”
pressing into my belly and squishing the double soaked
The hubbub died
down when Cuddy asked if I was sure I couldn’t manage
stammered. “I’ve already been today.”
enough, if you can’t you can’t.” He seemed at ease with
time?” He looked questioningly at me.
I stood there
shaking wearing just a sopping wet nappy and with my
trousers and plastic pants bunched around my feet. I was
hoping the terror would end but I should have known
“The little baby
needs to poo and pee-pee in his nappy.” He was using
baby talk now and I could feel the threat level rise.
“So, I’ll give him a helping hand.”
He produced a
plastic bag and unfurled a shitty disposable.
“A present from
my baby cousin... a freshly messed in nappy, which I
believe has your name on it.”
I was shocked
and drew back as he brought the stinking thing nearer.
“Looks like our
little baby is going to be wearing shit and piss
in his nappy after all.”
A cheer went up
from the guys looking on as Cuddy gave them the order to
hold me down. He dragged my nappy around my knees and
then lay out the messy one from his cousin.
“Lift up his
my tiny genitals and hoisted my bum off the floor.
“God look at
that tiny thing... I could hardly get hold of it...” I
heard someone say.
slipped the pungent thing under me, all the time I was
crying and begging him to stop. I felt my moist bum make
contact with the stinking yellowy brown mass and Cuddy
wasted no time in pulling it up between my legs and
taping it into place.
He seemed to
have no problem at all dealing with the smell or the
revolting spectacle that he was inflicting on me.
Most of the
onlookers were laughing but I noticed one or two found
the entire process gross.
pulled my nappy over the disposable, yanked up my
plastic pants and smoothed it all out. I felt unclean
and abused. I could feel the sticky mess sliding around
my bum and ooze between my legs. He pulled up my
trousers and dragged me to my feet.
“There you are,
not difficult at all... just what you’d expect, a baby
in a shitty nappy.”
I was horrified.
This wasn’t part of my plan and in fact, a dirty nappy
was never part of my plan.
Cuddy had ruined
everything and I hated him for it.
“I’ll tell the
Head just what you’ve done.” I threatened.
He smiled that
evil smile again, he wasn’t fazed by any threat I could
“You’re a stinky
little baby Smith, no one is going to believe you
because everyone knows how much you love being a baby
and wearing a nappy. Everyone knows that you and your
sissy mate have been planning this for some time...”
I tried to deny
it but he just smiled. “Everyone here has heard what you
and your ‘sissy girlfriend’ had in mind and that you
were planning on blaming me.”
are already aware of your plan... so I doubt if anyone
is going to take your complaint very seriously.”
I didn’t know if
any of this was true but people will have seen Quentin
and me huddled together so no doubt all manner of nasty
rumours were circulating.
“However, I do
have a few words I want you to use when anyone asks
about your ‘accident’. Here’s what you say.... in your
best babyish voice ‘Please sir, I done a poo and a
pee-pee in my nappy.’ Just so no one is in any doubt
about you being a little baby... a shitty little baby at
“I won’t say
that, I’ll, I’ll...” My threat was lost as I saw the
entire group begin to pack up to leave.
“On a different
subject altogether.” Cuddy was in my face. “How’s that
sister of yours... I bet she looks pretty hot in a nappy
like her baby brother...?”
“You leave Helen
alone... you, you...”
“I’ll be waiting
on a report back on what words you used when asked about
your shit-filled nappy. If it’s not as I’ve said, I’ll
be paying a visit to... Helen is it?... and checking for
This was a
threat I couldn’t ignore. I couldn’t let my nappy
wearing involve Helen, or any of the family in Cuddy’s
spiteful little game. He knew he’d won and I’d do just
as he demanded. I shuffled out of the boy’s toilet
feeling the clammy, grainy residue invading into, across
and against my body. I threw up as I made the
It was Harrison
who was bringing it to Mr Henderson’s attention.
Harrison was a Cuddy wannabe and no doubt had been put
up to this.
It was the
beginning of a double maths period, a subject I was
useless at so Mr Henderson was no great fan of mine. He
already thought I was a waste of space and always looked
disgusted when he noticed me wearing padding.
have you Smith?” He brought laughter to the rest of the
class but I just shrunk into my seat unable to say
anything I was just too distraught.
“Yes he has.”
Harrison and a couple of others agreed.
Henderson had meant it as a bad joke but now the smell
was getting to other people and they were moving away
from my vicinity.
“Oh, for crying
out loud Smith... what’s happened?”
This was the
question I knew Cuddy had been hoping for and I also
knew he had enough people who’d grass me up if I didn’t
say the line.
“I gone and done
a poo and pee-pee in my nappy... sorry sir.”
looked at me in amazement whilst the rest of the class
bust into fits of laughter.
“You fuckin’ big
baby Smith” “Shitty cunt” “Christ what a stink” “You’ll
need a cartload of nappies...”
held their noses, whilst other revelled in my baby
fuckin’ baby, Smith’s a fuckin’ baby...” “Someone get
him a dummy and a bottle” “Good God no, we don’t want
him to shit anymore”
some comment and Mr Henderson was at a loss as to what
class sissy looked my way but there was no judgement on
his face. “Can you escort Mr Smith to the Head’s
office?” He couldn’t help himself. “We don’t want our
little stinker getting lost now do we?”
Quentin was up
and by my side almost immediately. The vile comments
carried on, this time including those directed his way.
Two sissy babies together was the general opinion, no
doubt we’d be changing each other’s nappies as soon as
we got out the door. Typical of Quentin he was more
concerned about me than bothering to respond to a pack
order and reluctantly, as we exited the school room, the
name calling became silenced.
“Can I open a
window sir?” It was Harrison building his part, much to
the appreciation of most of the class.
“Mmmm, I think
that might be a good idea.” The teacher shrugged as if
he didn’t quite know what to make of what had just taken
“Now, after that
little break,” Mr Henderson got back to work. “As you
can see... when x is the coefficient...”
sorry about all this,” I apologised to Quentin.
“S’OK, they need
to learn maths more than I do.” He hardly broke a smile
but I knew this was his humour.
“No, I mean...
the smell... the embarrassment... being seen with me...”
“Is this more of
I wasn’t sure
whether to tell him or not, it was all so disgusting.
Perhaps it would be better people thinking I’d messed my
own pants than admitting what actually happened.
Besides, I had to protect Helen from the terror of
He looked at me
and saw me struggling.
“More threats no
doubt... he really is a piece of nasty wrapped in
unpleasantness... or simply a cruel twat.”
I burst out
laughing. Yes, despite my appalling situation Quentin
had made me forget for a moment my problems and see
Cuddy for what he was.
“Anyway, if I
were you...” he looked at me straight in the eye, “I’d
tell the Head exactly what has been going on... then
tell your parents... keeping stuff to yourself will
eventually make things worse...”
him. “But he’s threatened Helen.”
“All the more
reason to let people know what’s going on.”
“I don’t know.
People might get to know about my liking for nappies
“Look, and don’t
take this the wrong way, but that boat has sailed.
People know. Most don’t care and those that do... aren’t
I knew Quentin
was a clever lad but I never thought of him as being so
mature. I was listening but really quite in awe of him.
To be honest, I’d rather seen him as the rest of the
school did, a brainbox yes, but really just a big timid
sissy who’d rather play with girls.
“...the more you
take on yourself the less control you have.”
I looked at him
as if I’d never really known him.
“He’s relying on
you to stay quiet so he and his mates can do and say
what they like...”
complained about him before and they say,” I nodded
towards the Heads office, “they can’t do anything
without proof... and I just haven’t had any witnesses.”
“Yes,” he caught
a whiff of the shitty nappy, “Ye gods.” He composed
himself. “It doesn’t matter just tell everyone who will
listen what’s going on. You’re still only a kid and this
amounts to physical, emotional and mental abuse so stop
being an idiot... and damn well fight back.”
I was stunned at
the passion in his voice. He was having a go at me for
being the sissy in this relationship. I would have
cowered down into my nappy if I couldn’t still feel all
the crap clinging to my bits.
The wait for the
Head was taking ages so I went into great detail about
what had happened. After a few “You’ve got to be
joking”, “Yuks” and “Blluuurrrgggs” I finished the
“What a cunt.”
Again, a word I
never thought I’d hear from Quentin but one he seemed to
think summed up Cuddy.
the c-word he knew was the worst thing you could call
someone although he didn’t know why or what it really
meant. All he knew was that sometimes he’d heard the
word shouted by older boys and grown-ups and it seemed a
nasty thing to say. He thought it MUST apply to Cuddy
and his gang.)
“There’s no way
you can keep this a secret.” He pointed to the top of
the disposable that was peaking above my nappy “Besides,
I could see he
“Erm, did you
say this was from his baby cousin? Quentin looked
a little perplexed.
“Yes he took
great delight saying it was fresh from him this
“But look, this
is far too big for a baby... it’s even too big for
I didn’t quite
see what he was getting at but he left some time for me
to put two and two together.
saying that this disposable has nothing to do with a
baby... you think he bought them especially for me?”
“Maybe, but, and
this is what I’m putting out there, what if it’s one of
his own. What if he’s needs them himself.... it would
explain an awful lot.”
He was smiling
“What if... big
hard Cuddy is nothing more than a big bed-wetter
We both burst
out laughing as I was called into the Head’s study and
Quentin joyfully returned to his maths lesson.
“Think this is
funny do you Smith?”
didn’t look happy with what was in front of him.
pants and talking like a baby...”
My smile had
rapidly disappeared once the stern features of Mr
Blacklock confronted me.
“For crying out
loud Smith... you stink... what were you thinking?”
but it wasn’t my fault.”
“Really, so how
come Mr Henderson said you’ve already admitted to doing
I had no idea
how the two had managed to speak in the time I’d been
waiting outside his office, although I did know there
were two entrances to it.
“I was under
This was one of
the lines that Quentin had told me to use and I think it
took the Head by surprise.
“Are you having
problems at home?”
“No sir... I’m
having problems with bullying in school.”
I wasn’t as
confident as Quentin when it came to speaking to adults,
and especially figures of supreme authority, but I took
my friend’s words to ‘Man Up’ to heart and tried my
best. I think I took Mr Blacklock by surprise.
I could see him
climb down from his high horse a little because he’d
heard my complaints before.
“Is this about
Cudthorpe in Year 10?”
continues a reign of terror against me... and possibly
others... and yet nothing is done...”
“What has this
to do with you messing your trousers?” He spoke sternly
trying to knock me off my guard... or so I thought.
“Because sir, he
stripped me and put me in a messy nappy that he’d
brought with him.”
“I see.” I could
see the Head thinking seriously about what I’d just
said. “You’re telling me that Cudthorpe brought a
particularly offensively smelling nappy to school with
the sole intent of making you wear it?”
um... yes I...”
“Do you realise
how unbelievable that statement is... how
preposterous...? You expect me to think that on the off
chance he met up with you he’d be so organised as to
have such an item with him?”
completely sceptical about anything I said and as he
continued with his line of reasoning I saw how thin my
“This seems a
very farfetched story Smith and I have to say I’m not
keen on people lying about things in an attempt to get
others into trouble.”
“But SIR, that’s
unfair. I have complained about Cuddy before and the
things he says and does to me but, well, I never have a
witness but that isn’t to say it doesn’t happen.”
Smith but do you know he and several of his friends have
complained about you?”
mentioned that so it looks like he’d thought ahead.
“I know you and
he have been at loggerheads for quite some time but
this,” he spread his hands to take in my bulging and
smelly padding, “is just too much. I’ll call you parents
now and hope they can do something.”
I was excused
and made to sit in the hallway still wearing Cuddy’s
messy nappy. I hadn’t been offered the chance to change,
or return to class and retrieve my bag which had fresh
nappies, I’d been told by a very annoyed Headmaster to
As I sat
pondering what would happen next I knew he was on the
phone to my parents. They had already said that should
they hear anything from school about nappies they
wouldn’t let me wear them anymore.
Head had sent for Cuddy and it was with some surprise
that I saw my nemesis walking up the hallway.
you stink, what have you done in your pants?”
Although I was
intimidated I needed to say something.
perfectly well... you... you... you did this to me.”
“Smith, I don’t
know what goes on in that head of yours but this
constant blaming others for your babyish ways is not
Not fair? NOT
FAIR? I could have screamed as he sat down beside me and
gave me that sly smile.
“I hope your
mummy will be here soon to take her baby away and change
his stinky, smelly ...”
whispering the words when the door opened and we were
both beckoned back into the Heads office.
“Yes sir... what
can I do for you?”
He was even
slimy with the Head yet I already knew I had no chance.
explained the charges against him and looked at times
surprised, amused and hurt – god he should be on stage.
He was appalled at the idea that anyone would bring in a
dirty nappy, let alone put it on someone else.
that it’s from your baby cousin.”
“Well, that’s a
lie... I don’t have a baby cousin.” He reasoned with the
I butted in.
brother, his baby brother, he’s always comparing me to
his baby brother...”
I was out of
control and very angry.
“But sir, this
is yet another lie. I don’t have a baby brother. I think
Smith should get his facts right before he spreads
more malicious gossip and unfounded accusations...”
The Head looked
at me waiting for a response.
look on Cuddy’s face was unbelievable.
“Can I go now
sir? Smith’s smelly nappy is quite overpowering...”
I could see he
was going to add something vindictive but thought better
of it as the Head told him to return to his lessons.
it’s your word against his and I have to say... it
doesn’t look good on your part. Anyway, your mother will
be here soon...” he said distractedly as he returned to
his desk and started sorting through some papers.
“Can I get my
school bag sir it has a change in...?”
prepared?” He enquired incredulously.
He looked at me
quite dismissively at that moment.
for your mother...”
I could hear him
say “You’re a disgrace” under his breath.
Cuddy had made
me look a liar and a not very good liar at that. He’d
played the Head easily, although how much he believed
him, compared to how much he disliked me, I wasn’t sure.
However, I was sitting in a stinking and very
uncomfortable disposable waiting for mum... I was sure
she wouldn’t be too pleased about the state I was in.
something else grinding away at the back of my mind and
it was something Quentin had said. The disposables I’d
been put in weren’t baby sized they were for someone a
lot bigger, even bigger than me. Despite my discomfort I
giggled at the idea it might be Cuddy’s own and then an
awful thought crossed my mind – had I been wearing
Cuddy’s own poop all this time.
The idea made me
want to throw up and I sat stock still desperately
wanting not to spread the muck around further. Not only
that but I felt totally devastated, humiliated and
started to cry, it was then mum arrived.
I sat crying
like the little kid I felt I was. I’d been totally
destroyed by Cuddy, and I was quite possibly sat in his
poop. I think mum could smell the problem well before
she got to me but it was she who was disgusted.
let you change?”
I simply hugged
her and let out a cry that might just have woken a few
of the school’s ancient spirits.
At this Mr
Blacklock opened his office door to greet mum.
“Ahh Mrs Smith
Mum didn’t give
him chance to speak she was on him in seconds demanding
to know why I hadn’t been allowed to change.
He looked a
little surprised at this verbal assault but invited her
into his inner-sanctum but left me snivelling out in the
I could hear the
Head trying to be reasonable but mum was not easily
placated. However, the volume decreased and a more
rational discussion took place. I heard the name
Cudthorpe crop up time and time again. I also heard the
terms protection, nappies, disposables, faeces, baby and
psychiatrist being mentioned on a number of occasions.
I was shivering
in fear, guilt and shame as mum emerged, slightly
downbeat but determined to sort her quaking messy boy
Michael... let’s get you out of here.”
She wasn’t angry
but I could tell that the conversation hadn’t gone well
I was tearful
and fearful the short drive home. I just didn’t know
what to say to mum or what had gone on between the
headmaster and her... but I’d never felt more
uncomfortable sitting in a messy nappy.
We went up to
the bathroom and she stripped me naked taking great care
to not let the mess spread any further.
I tried to tell
her it wasn’t my fault, I hadn’t pooped in my nappy but
she just gently shushed me and told me not to worry. She
saw for herself that there was a disposable held within
the confines of my fabric padded nappy so was able to
see I wasn’t lying... but nothing was said.
After an initial
clean-up she aimed me towards the shower and told me to
give myself a thorough scrubbing. I poured a load of
shampoo on my head and lathered it up and let the
torrent of bubbles cascade down my boyish frame; rubbing
and scouring as the foam got to each part of my body.
Of course I
scrubbed hard at my groin and bum, the area that had so
recently been possibly contaminated by Cuddy poo. My
tiny cock and balls made my emotions sink as I rubbed
and rubbed in an effort to get them permanently clean.
Everything seemed to shrink to nothing and my eyes
filled with tears again.
Mum came in at
that moment; it appeared she only ever saw me crying
“I’ll never be
clean, I’ll never...” She stopped me from scrubbing
myself raw, then wrapped me in a towel and guided me to
Mum sat on
the bed and cuddled me tightly. She rocked gently in an
effort to help me calm down but felt so drained I could
only whimper and not appreciate what she was doing for
She slowly dried
me and I shouldn’t have been happier except... I knew
that something drastic had to change... and I also knew
it would probably have to be me. Meanwhile, mum could
see I’d been traumatised by the events of the day and to
her credit had laid out a fresh nappy for me to wear.
She made sure I
was clean and dry before coating me in Vaseline and
powder, then, adding a thick soaker pad, pulled up and
pinned the fresh cloth nappy in place. At last I was
clean and the soft white material felt wonderful as it
slipped against my skin and gripped my waist. The
friendly bulk made me bury my head in mum’s bosom in
gratitude for what she’d just done. Despite everything,
she knew what I needed at that moment.
She pulled up a
pair of thick vinyl pants and tucked everything away but
she could see that I was scared and uncertain.
“I think you
should nap now... you’ve had a hell of a day so far and
I think a rest is what’s needed.”
She pulled back
my sheets and I crawled in.
Sleepily I asked
if she believed me, I wasn’t a liar and I didn’t mess
she’d always believe her sweet little baby, and that I
shouldn’t worry, everything would be alright.
Her smile made
me trust her so turned onto my side and believe I was
asleep before she’d even left the room.
Although it was
only mid-afternoon I slept heavily but was plagued by
large in all of them and I’d become a pet at his beck
and call and made to perform the most appalling actions.
There was nothing sexual, it was just constant
humiliation where he’d demand I perform like a dog, or
pig, or some wild animal. Parade around in a saggy,
abused nappy for the amusement of his friends and at
other times to crawl everywhere, through mud and worse.
I couldn’t say
‘no’ or fight back.
this I was made to wear his messy nappy and my mess was
constantly being added to it. The size of the nappy and
plastic pants was huge as the build-up increased.
I was struggling
with the sheer volume and crying for it all to stop when
eventually, the silky, smooth plastic balloon burst
spraying the contents everywhere. It was then I woke up
to find my own carefully applied protection had become
loose – the result of which was now covering both me and
the bed in a catastrophic sludge.
I’d only been
asleep for less than an hour but it looked like I’d
deliberately smeared it over the bedding and myself –
the smell was appalling. How I’d managed to get to such
a state I didn’t know but all my previous denials about
never messing myself had all but disappeared.
I was crying for
a good ten minutes, not knowing what to do or say, when
Helen came into my room and stood aghast at the scene of
devastation before her. She immediately called mum and
soon I had the entire family looking
“What the hell?”
happened at school, and now this at home, I realised
that my version of events was on very stony ground.
“I hhhhad a ba
bad dreammm.” I stammered.
protection had wriggled down to my knees so when my
bowel did erupt there was very little to prevent it from
spurting its liquid content everywhere. Also, it looked
like I’d spent time rolling around in it.
Dad rushed to
open the windows, whilst Helen led me to the bathroom.
Mum was stripping the bed and I saw a look of disgusted
determination occupy my brother’s face.
I was desperate
for a hug but of course was in no condition to expect
anyone to cuddle me. Helen’s guiding hand helped strip
off the little I was still wearing and supervised as I
showered for the second time in just a couple of hours.
“It was an
accident, it was an accident...” was all I could gabble
in my defence.
I didn’t know it
at the time but mum and dad had been discussing what had
happened at school and that Mr Blacklock had given mum
an ultimatum about my nappy wearing. The upshot was dad
was determined I should discontinue with wearing
nappies, whilst mum thought it probably the worst time
for such action. To her, this current mess was proof
that I needed them more than ever to cope with whatever
was going on.
The Head had
pointed out to mum that for what I claimed to have
happened would rely on too many coincidences and that my
story hadn’t been consistent, citing my accusations of
both his baby cousin and baby brother of supplying the
contents of the nappy, neither of which Cuddy had.
Although Mr Blacklock knew Cudworth was a bad apple, he
had several people supporting his alibi, whilst I had no
one. He did wonder why a tenth grader would chance
walking around school with a messy disposable in his
school bag on the off chance of making me wear it?
It just didn’t
at home and checking out the mess in my bedroom, dad I
think wasn’t convinced I hadn’t done it on purpose. If
not on purpose, then being a little lax at
getting to the toilet... perhaps to prove my need to be
Mum won the
argument because dad hadn’t been in the conversation
with the Head and only third party to what actually had
been going on but I could see in dad’s eyes he wasn’t
happy. Meanwhile, she had a fresh clean nappy, with a
huge amount of padding ready when I returned from the
sweetheart,” Mum said as she coated me in lotion, “we
all know you’ve been through hell and I’m not sure the
Headmaster is on top of the situation at school.” She
paused as she dragged the thick padding between my legs
and pinned it into place. “So, for
the moment, I’m keeping you at home.”
found, from I don’t know where, a particularly thick
pair of rubber pants to cover the entire thing.
than sorry,” she smiled. “An atomic blast wouldn’t get
through this protection.”
She stroked the
large, smooth, bulky object gripping my groin.
I knew she was
trying to cheer me up but I was still unhappy about what
had happened. My grin wasn’t sincere and I think she
picked up on it.
you mustn’t worry... we’ll get all this sorted.”
What I didn’t
know at the time was the Head had said that I wouldn’t
be allowed back in class until I’d had a school
psychiatrist report giving me a clean bill of health.
Tea was a sombre
meal. I kept muttering ‘sorry’ and ‘it wasn’t my fault’
but dad said let’s just eat and we’ll sort it all out
later. I’m not sure anyone knew what to say but I did
detect an anger building in Paul’s eyes as he gazed at
my huge silky padding and sad face.
picking at the food, I wasn’t in much of a mood to eat,
I went to my room to finish my homework and because I
felt too guilty under dad’s disapproving gaze.
Surprisingly, Paul came in and asked me to tell him
exactly what had been happening since that first
disposable attack. When I tried to wriggle from any
explanation he threatened to tickle me until I complied.
I don’t think
Paul and I had ever had such an intense conversation, it
was quite liberating for me to get so much I’d been
holding in, out there.
As I’ve said, as
a family we’ve always been able to tell each other
everything and I have to admit I hated keeping what was
happening at school a secret, so I decided to tell him
everything... and that included how I was quite enjoying
being treated as little kid by Cuddy because I wasn’t
receiving that at home.
hadn’t liked the nasty direction Cuddy had taken things.
Paul was petting
me; his low voice, reassurance, soft but meaningful hugs
and touches all made me confess everything. He patted
and admired my thick padding and glossy rubber pants
saying how much they made me look like a happy toddler.
I knew he was just saying it to curry favour but I liked
hearing the words and it never felt weird or devious -
don’t forget, I loved my brother and he loved me.
As I opened up I
got more and more things off my chest.
I told him about
Cuddy’s gang but that it was Archie and he who were the
main bullies; the others seemed to need strong leaders
but on their own were pretty much ineffectual. However,
that hadn’t stopped any of them from making the most of
every opportunity to embarrass me.
I confessed that
them making me pee myself in the boy’s toilet was gross
but I’d quite liked the feeling of a warm wet nappy.
I told him how
the school sissy was the only true friend who seemed to
care what was happening to me. He was also the only one
I could tell the truth to and regarded him as a real
confidant. The fact that he was brighter than I was, had
sharper instincts and said he knew how nice it was to
wear a nappy, was just part of Quentin’s appeal.
I even told Paul
about Quentin’s theory that the disposables Cuddy used
were for someone bigger than a baby and even bigger than
me and he wondered if my tormentor had a secret of his
astute Quentin thought it would explain everything about
A smile appeared
on Paul’s face, I think he knew before I did how much I
invite him over for a meal or to do homework
“He lives at the
other side of town.”
innocently not knowing what my brother was getting at.
“Well I’m sure
we’d all like to meet him, the boy who doesn’t mind you
wearing a nappy and who...”
“Hold on, hold
on.” I suddenly grasped where this was heading. “He’s
just a friend.”
difference what he is... if he’s the one person who
supports my kid brother then he’s OK by me... and I
think the rest of us.”
I’d gone bright
red by then and changed the conversation back to Cuddy.
Up until I
mentioned Cuddy’s threat against Helen Paul seemed
pretty understanding but there was a dramatic mood
change when I told him of the bully’s comment.
“OK, I think our
‘friend’ has just crossed one line too many...”
He didn’t expand
on it although I could tell there was something going on
in his head but, as he was moulding my padded bottom and
stroking my hair as I confessed all, I snuggled down
happy to have things as they were.
My brother was
looking after his baby brother... and I loved it.
Mum was as good
as her word and the following day I didn’t have to go to
school, whilst my brother and sister did. She even
changed my wet nappy in the morning before she had to go
to work and told me that although she had to go, she’d
be home early afternoon, so not to go out. Wearing only
a fresh clean nappy and t-shirt I wasn’t planning on
going anywhere and it was strange to have the house to
myself, even for a short time.
I loved being
able to wander around dressed as I was. I know I did it
anyway but on my own, I was able to act out a bit. I
added booster pads to my nappy to make it bigger; the
emphasised waddle was incredible entertaining. I
spoke to myself in baby talk. I hugged my teddy bear and
took it everywhere I went. I set out all my nappies,
plastic and rubber pants and matched them with what I
thought were the most childish clothes I possessed. I
didn’t have much but it was fun thinking how I’d adapt
stuff to be onesies, footed sleepers or just something I
thought was infantile. My imagination was having a great
time, even when I played with my toys whilst sitting an
extremely wet nappy.
I made a fort
out of the settee cushions, wrapped myself in fleecy
blankets and pretended mum was still swaddling me and
sucked on the dummy I’d been left by my ‘amusing’ school
chums. I adapted a sports water bottle, filled it with
milk and nursed on that. In the background the cartoon
channel was on TV as I slipped into nap time and if it
wasn’t for mum waking me up when she came home, I might
have slept right through till tea time.
Mum and dad may
have decided between them that I was to do all the baby
stuff myself but I got the impression mum really liked
it as I sleepily woke up from my nap all cosy, wet and
in her words, “so damn cute”.
She let me
choose which vinyl pants I wanted to wear next and then
set about changing me again, with a caution not to let
dad know what she’d done. Of course she saw all my
‘baby’ clothes laid out and grabbed what she thought
were appropriate and slipped me in them. I was now
dressed as she wanted to see me and although I had a
pair of very loose fitting shorts covering my
protection; they hid very little.
between my legs was strangely comforting. It was like I
was being gently held by some cushiony giant. I was
strangely dangling between being a big toddler or a
special needs teenager but I left teddy in the bedroom
and went downstairs to help her get the evening meal
This was a
completely different experience. At school I was always
on edge or getting abused in one way or another but
here, helping mum, wearing baby clothes... I was in
heaven. I’m not sure if she was aware of it but she
slipped into speaking to me in a way she’d normally talk
to a toddler, she praised every little task I completed.
In return I spent a lot of time hugging her legs like I
used to when a toddler. It was an incredibly loving
This was what I
wanted. This was what I’d hoped for. This was happening
but for how long?
I knew dad would
have problems with this because the school was having
problems with it but, at that moment, I didn’t care.
With the thick, soft nappy surrounding me in fleecy
comfort I loved my mummy and she loved her baby son.
Mum had been
quite incensed that Mr Blacklock had demanded that I see
a school psychiatrist and, after a discussion with dad,
had decided they would make a complaint to the local
education authority about the school’s lack of control
Both my parents
turned up at the Head’s office and told him of their
plans. He dismissed them like he’d dismissed me and I
think that was a mistake. Whilst he thought their
‘lackadaisical’ parenting was responsible for my wearing
nappies to school, they pointed out it was fear on my
part that made me do so. The Head was adamant there was
no evidence and seemed to forget that the posters of me
in a disposable, which had so recently been displayed
around the school, should have been enough proof.
with the line there was no actual support to link
Cudthorpe with it and, even with his bad reputation,
suspicion wasn’t enough. Dad said it would have been at
any other school and now he’d spoken to the Head
himself, he realised “...what my son has to endure
whilst under the jurisdiction of such an ineffectual
This didn’t go
down well with the Head but at least mum and dad were on
the same supportive page so when he got home (I’d
enjoyed a day wearing a nappy and pottering around the
house) dad apologised for even doubting me for a second.
Although I’d confessed all to my brother I hadn’t done
the same to my parents so, for the moment at least, I
know I had an older brother because Paul didn’t go to
the same school; he’d passed an entrance exam and went
to an Academy outside our catchment area. Cuddy had
probably seen Helen and me arrive on the same bus,
although she then went to the girl’s school opposite the
one I went to.
At my brother’s
school Friday afternoon is given over to sport. Paul is
a keen sportsman playing everything from rugby and
football to swimming and wrestling. There are few sports
events that don’t have my brother as part of the team
and he excels in them all. I’m not sporty at all
although I have attended a couple of finals when he’s
been involved. When he walks around the house wearing
just his rugby or football kit he looks so healthy and
strong compared to his weakling little brother... me.
Having said that, all I ever think about is my sweet
brother who wouldn’t say boo to a goose and always
treats me with love and affection.
I wasn’t there
but I am reliably informed by those who were that my
brother, who must have given up his Friday afternoon of
sport to get to the school for the last lesson,
confronted my bully. Those who witnessed it said an
unknown lad challenged Cuddy who took a swipe at him.
Apparently his mates cheered him on until Paul whacked
him twice in quick succession that sent him sprawling.
Archie, ever the lieutenant, waded in only to find an
elbow in his guts and a stomp on his right arm so it was
With Cuddy not
knowing who this person was and wondering why he was
being accosted lost it a little and started swearing and
bragging about what would happen to his assailant when
very assailant told him that the thing about bullies
was, there was always a bigger bully waiting in the
wings... and he wasn’t easy to intimidate.
There were more
threats and counter threats but with Cuddy surprised and
immobile by his shock attacker, and his gang jeering but
doing little else, realised that a real beating might
not be too far away. It was the first time since being
at our school that he’d been afraid and taken to task
for the things he’d done.
that, he was no pussy and confident he could get the
better of his assailant. He jumped up and delivered a
forceful kick aimed at Paul’s genitals, which was
skilfully blocked. However, my brother countered with a
devastating punch to the throat that sent Cuddy down
gasping for air.
where this fracas took place was out of sight from any
adults. It was home time so the road and spare ground
just contained loads of kids dispersing to the
surrounding suburban areas.
Paul had chosen
his battle ground well so there was no one to intrude on
what took place, well no adult anyway. Although if truth
be known, my brother (he later confessed to me) had no
real idea just how tough his opponent was going to be.
However, he had something to do and he didn’t want a
The big surprise
was that whilst Cuddy was down and desperately gagging
for air his unknown assailant announced to
the gathering crowd that perhaps ‘the bully’ had a
secret of his own.
victim stared in disbelief. He couldn’t let it happen,
the revelation that was secret to all but he and his
mother. The shameful occurrence that had been hushed up
for the past five years, so wasn’t about to let that
become general knowledge. Suddenly realising what was
about to take place Cuddy snarled in defiance before
attempting to squirm away.
“Not so quick
reluctantly he got to his feet and, hoping to catch his
opponent unaware feigned compliance but launched himself
After many years
of agilely dodging tackles in both rugby and football my
brother anticipated this action and countered with a
move of his own.
Cuddy suddenly found a kick to his balls, followed by an
arm forced up his back more agony than he wanted to
endure. With a crowd of excited, if confused schoolboys
looking on, Paul made his move.
He gripped the
now cowering bully (the rest of the gang proving to be
ineffectual cowards when confronted by someone who could
look after himself), yanked down his pants, as Cuddy had
so often done to me, and exposed the fact that he wore
The protests and
swearing, the anger and spite was suddenly transformed
to a whimper as his obvious disposable and glossy white
plastic pants shone in the sun for all to see.
Despite his arm
feeling on the verge of breaking he continued to
His fight back
proved useless as my brother held him immobile. The
confident, swearing, loudmouth tried to prevent anyone
from seeing his obvious padding.
you’re the pants-wetting baby in this school.”
there was a loud ‘Whoooaa’, the spectators obviously not
believing what had just happened, or what their eyes
hand tried to cover the crinkly evidence but Paul held
him firm so all who wanted could see for themselves what
their antagonist wore.
Baby talk aimed
at Cuddy suddenly sprang from some of the braver members
of the audience and he was soundly whipped by the barbed
and undisguised pleasure they were taking from this
embarrassing, yet entertaining, exposé.
The mobiles were
out taking photographs of this shattered bully as his
secret was documented and shared in an instant. All over
the city phones pinged with an incoming photo of a
humiliated fifteen year old sobbing and wearing baby
Even those who
had no idea who the subject was could enjoy the
mortification on the boy’s face. For those who had been
victims of the bully, it was a great day and one they
would remember, and enjoy re-telling, for a long time to
come. It became a very popular screen-saver around the
school, where, even some teachers were known to
‘secretly’ have it on their computers and phones.
“Pick on my
brother or even mention my sister ever... and you’ll be
wearing a fucking nappy for the rest of your life.
Are we clear?”
He made sure
that anyone in earshot knew he was delivering a final
warning. There were a few cheers of approval, a lot of
grinning faces and visibly a few who didn’t quite
believe what they’d just witnessed.
had no idea who he was being attacked by until Paul
whispered my name in his ear.
The look of
disbelief was followed by another whispered threat that
had him instantly crawling away in fear and distress. He
desperately tried to pull up his pants because the
laughing and baying of the crowd was excruciating. His
gang had magically dispersed and it appeared even
Archie, nursing a possible broken wrist, was disgusted
to see his cousin wearing a nappy.
The school bully
scurrying away and clutching his pants tightly around
his waist was the last image many of the onlookers saw
of Cuddy because he didn’t return to school.
I only found out
about this a few days later, even mum and dad didn’t
know about it and Paul asked me not to say anything when
I told him I knew what had happened. All my parents knew
was that the Head invited them in for a chat and an
apology. He said that more facts had come to light and
he was now convinced Cudthorpe had indeed been bullying
me but, as he was now no longer a pupil at the school
hoped everything could return to normal.
The need for a
psychiatrist report was to be forgotten.
Head heard that a boy from another school had whipped
Cudthorpe’s arse but no one knew who he was or where he
was from. Of course the Head should have investigated
the incident but as neither Cudthorpe nor his family got
in touch, and the fact he didn’t return to school (much
to the delight of everyone there), Mr Blacklock seemed
more than happy with the outcome.
Back at the
Cudthorpe residency all hell broke loose when a copy of
that photograph reached the father. He had no idea his
son wore any kind of protection and blamed his
‘airy-fairy’ wife for ‘fuckin’ babyfying’ their boy. He
enjoyed the fact that the family was ‘feared’ in the
community but THIS undermined everything.
He was so
disgusted with his son that he wouldn’t let him out of
the house and as punishment (as well as a severe
beating) was made to wear only his nappy and plastic
pants. His father wanted him to be constantly reminded
of just what he’d become.
didn’t end there because shortly after that people who
would normally have run a mile rather than confront any
of the Cudthorpes began to take the mickey. Even the
hard Dylan Cudthorpe, leader of his band of vicious but
small time criminals, was ridiculed and asked by the
many cops he came into contact with if he still wore a
nappy like his boy.
legacy took a dramatic dive.
Mum and dad were
surprised at this turn of events but thought it was due
to their threat to reveal the Head as ineffectual; Paul
wanted them to stay with that impression and desired no
credit for the real reason. In fact, my ‘timid’ brother
promised he’d change my nappies for me if I could keep
it a secret.
He didn’t need
to make such an undertaking because I couldn’t believe
my brother would do such a thing. Not that I didn’t
think he was tough, I’d just never imagined him being
THAT tough, he was always so gentle with me. I told him
I’d keep his secret as long as mum and dad didn’t ask...
I was afraid of lying to them. He agreed that would be
okay and patted my plastic pants and said I really was
the sweetest toddler around.
He always knew
what to say to cheer me up, even when I didn’t know I
needed cheering up.
I hugged my hero
and kissed his cheek in thanks.
agreed with the Head that there was now no excuse for me
to wear a nappy to school and it was settled
(reluctantly by me) that all my nappy wearing would be
done outside of school hours.
When I got back
to school, minus padding, Quentin, who apparently had
witnessed the entire thing, was totally in awe of my
brother. Other than the humiliation of being found out
to be a pants-wetter (ha-ha), at the time we had no idea
why Cuddy suddenly left school. Both of us noticed that
the secondary bullying seemed to have lessened and
people were being nice to us. Well, perhaps not nice but
certainly not as nasty as it had once been.
“Shame about the
nappy,” Quentin offered his commiserations, “I know you
liked the security but...”
“It’s best to
keep school and home separate... I hope your parents are
still okay with you wearing...”
“Mum, Paul and
Helen are all fine, it’s just dad who’s not keen but
hasn’t put a ban in place so...”
good. I bet you look enchanting when you’re only
I was a bit
shocked. He’d never spoken like this before and I
wriggled guiltily in my ‘normal’ underwear because I
couldn’t now show him just how much I loved my padding.
“When I’m home I
can forget my school uniform and enjoy the soft fabrics
I like to wear.” Quentin was letting me in on something
very personal. “I do like a lot of girlie stuff...
clothes, satin, lace, silk panties... and dolls,” he
looked over at me, “even the occasional nappy. As long
as the fabric is soft and fluffy... I like it.”
His voice had
changed from the confident one he used in class to a
softer, more intimate one, like he was sharing something
special... with someone special.
everyone said he was the school sissy this was the only
real acknowledgement that he was in any way
effeminate... and he had no qualms about it.
“Do you like to,
erm, um, dress like a girl?” I cautiously asked.
He whispered his
but it’s mostly I just like the feel of girl’s
clothes... they’re softer, not as rigid as boy’s
clothes... though I’m not so much for painted nails and
make-up... that type of thing.”
He was letting
that sink in.
“I suppose I’m a
boy but dressed in nice girlie stuff. Mummy and daddy
have never pressured me to wear one thing over
another... except for school... and I could see the
sense in wearing a uniform like everyone else.”
Then his voice
went even softer as he let me in on one of his big
we don’t have games or gym, I wear a nice frilly nylon
pair of panties and, knowing I have them on, make me
feel different all day.”
I could relate
to this because that’s exactly the way my nappy made me
feel. It seemed strange that Quentin kept his secret
whilst I wore mine so everyone could see. However, I
realised I had a better excuse than he did and why I was
able to get away with it... to some degree at least. I’m
sure if the rest of the school knew what Quentin wore
under his school trousers they would have made his life
He looked me in
like you, I just want to escape to being a kid again and
a thick fluffy nappy and pair of slinky vinyl pants is
sharing quite a bit and although I was stunned by his
revelations, I liked the fact that he wasn’t ashamed to
The other thing
he let me in on was he was perhaps one of them few
people who knew it was my brother who had attacked
Cuddy. He’d been near enough to hear the whispered name
that Paul had said to him that made my persecutor
confused and distressed. He didn’t tell his daddy who
Cuddy’s assailant was though... all he said to me was he
wished he had a brother who would protect him like that.
I said we are already ‘brothers’ in so many ways. He
Apparently, at a
very young age his mummy had discovered him wearing some
of her clothes. She didn’t want to scare the boy so
asked if he enjoyed dressing up. He told her he liked
certain things and pointed to what those were.
She bought him
his own version and sizes and put them in his drawer so,
when he wanted to, he could wear them without using
hers. Over the years his desire for soft and silky
things grew and so did his collection. It made him a
very happy boy and without the pressure from his family
to be anything other than himself, he was equally at
home wearing boys or girls clothes.
I discovered all
this because, over the next few weeks, Quentin and I got
quite close. We even had sleepovers at each other’s
house and when he slept in my room he wore a nappy and
when I was at his, well he liked me to wear a nappy,
whilst he wore a lovely silky pair of pyjamas. I tried
them, and whilst they were very nice I preferred my
I was a little
nervous about meeting his parents but I needn’t have
been. His mother was a very happy, jovial woman, who
took great pride in her brilliant son’s abilities. His
father was a surprise. I had expected him to be serious,
tall and brooding, him being a high-ranking cop and all.
He was nothing like the ones on TV; he was small,
roly-poly, never stopped cracking jokes and loved his
flamboyant boy. I was enthusiastically greeted and
instantly made to feel very welcome. They knew about my
nappy wearing but it didn’t bother them at all.
Oh and something
else, his room was twice the size of mine, didn’t smell
of talc and was immaculate. His clothes were all neatly
hung up or colour coded in his drawers and he had the
most amazing collection of silks and satiny underwear,
which I have to admit looked pretty good on him. In his
bottom draw were pink ‘Princess’ style disposables and
pink plastic panties, which I’ve seen him in and he
I was incredibly
pleased how quickly my family took to my guest. They
knew he’d been my one support through the ‘crisis’ so
that was already in his favour but, he was just so sweet
I think they thought of him as like me – someone who was
immature and needed looking after.
immature but loved the way our family operated.
acceptance was new to him even if his own mummy and
daddy were okay with their sissy son, not all his family
were of the same understanding. He tried to avoid
situations where cousins, aunts and uncles were gathered
because he just couldn’t be himself. He’d found a refuge
at my home.
something else that became apparent. Whereas my Baby
Dick became public knowledge because people had seen it
in the school changing room, Quentin’s penis was an
For some reason
I just assumed he’d be like me... I was wrong... very
panties strained beyond belief trying to contain his
monster. Cuddy and his mob would have found it very
difficult to call him names as I’m sure he’d have put
the lot to shame.
It was terrific
that we could both appreciate what the other found
exhilarating by what we wore so I did try and get into
what Quentin liked. There was no doubt that the fine
material was very nice and sensual... and I suppose, at
a push, I could have happily worn those silky briefs.
But I’m afraid that the fact they looked more
appropriate on me than him, what with barely a bulge to
interrupt their silken flow around my groin, no, no,
NO... I preferred that my bits were well
Once I’d seen
his bulging out its glossy enclosure he observed the
disbelieving look on my face and saw the shame I felt at
being so small.
thought ‘I must be a baby in his eyes... let alone
half the school’ but he jumped in quickly.
prefer yours.” He smiled. “Mine doesn’t look right on
me....” he nodded towards my miniature equipment, “but
it suits you.”
I wondered if he
had a cruel streak after all.
obvious upset he added with a smile.
the complete package; a toddler in a nappy and you’re
happy. It wouldn’t be right to have a large pee-pee...
yours completes the perfect picture... which means my
friend... you’re just perfect.”
I could tell
from the way he said it that he meant it as a compliment
and like Paul, seemed to know what to say to make me
feel good about myself.
Quentin and I
began to see a lot of one and other so now, having found
a friend, we didn’t have to hide from anything or
However, when he
stayed at my house I noticed a very different Quentin if
Paul was around. He was bashful, soft and hardly dared
speak. I think, because of the dreamy way he looked at
him, he saw my brother as some kind of god because he
shyly agreed with everything Paul suggested. I knew he
wished he had a similar relationship to him that I did.
the next few weeks he and Paul became friends. Paul
couldn’t do enough for Quentin and the same seemed to be
true. He made my friend feel welcome
every visit and I often found them talking quietly, with
Quentin hanging on his every word. I was pleased that my
brother was as accepting of my friend’s eccentricities
as he was mine - typical of my brother to make him feel
With my nappy
wearing being confined to the house (most of the time)
dad didn’t stop me from dressing how I liked.
Thankfully, the rest of the family would secretly change
and spoke to me like I was a little kid, which I loved.
changed me it was always with such thought and
tenderness, although the conversation usually got round
to talking about Quentin. He’d seen him wearing his
silky underwear and asked if I’d ever thought about
trying that. I said I was more than happy in a nappy,
which brought a smile to his face. However, I did agree
that my friend certainly wore his glossy feminine
clothes with a style that was very natural. My brother
nodded in agreement.
soft fabrics he wore, there was no denying the fact that
Quentin always looked like a boy. Even in his most
girlie creation, he still looked like a boy in feminine
clothes. His hair wasn’t long, he never bothered with
make-up – there was a strangely steely determination to
be a boy despite his girlish preferences. He saw
absolutely no difference in a boy playing with dolls, as
a boy playing with soldiers.
sleepover, as we were getting ready for bed, he slipped
into a pair of his well-padded pink princess style
pull-ups with frilly plastic pants – he looked stunning.
I know Paul thought so because an appreciative whistle
escaped his lips. Quentin looked shyly back but didn’t
try and hide away and my brother had the biggest smile
on his face.
Talking of whom,
I was never sure if my parents actually knew what
happened at school but Paul kept up the pretence he knew
nothing. However, he did keep a watchful eye by
occasionally turning up at the school gates on a Friday.
I’d find him deep in conversation with Quentin whilst he
waited to accompany me home.
I didn’t hear
any more from the Head, I also didn’t get any further
nonsense from any of the teachers. I suppose eventually
Paul had been identified as my brother and a new respect
or understanding was agreed in the teacher’s lounge. The
two school sissies had a guardian angel that might swoop
down at any moment and beat the living daylights out of
anyone who gave us grief. It probably wasn’t true but
was a theory I liked?
didn’t know it but Paul had instantly become a legend
for the many who had suffered at the hands of Cuddy and
his kind. That incident was played over and over again
by kids who hadn’t even witnessed it but told everyone -
‘they were there’.
home I was happy to feel the warm wet material
surrounding my little willy, it was a sensation I was
beginning to enjoy more and more. Thankfully, that
guardian angel changed my nappy when it was soaked and
cosseted me in love on a daily basis. He even
volunteered to do the same for my friend should he want
it when he came to sleep over... an offer that Quentin
heart-warming to see the affectionate way they each look
at one and other when this happens.
wonderful, understanding and loving brother I am blessed
################## fin ######################
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