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Pink and co

It was pitch-black and I could feel there was danger lurking. I heard a soft, distant groan and immediately stopped to listen. I wasn’t sure what I was doing because although I could see nothing I sensed there was some kind of peril close by, which I desperately needed to avoid.

My heart was pounding and the painful drumming in my head made it feel like I was carrying a heavy weight - like someone had just tied an anvil to it and told me to lift. This feeling of disorientation was making me anxious.

Despite the dark surroundings I knew that an even darker area waited just beyond what I couldn’t see... I sensed it. There was an unbelievable feeling of foreboding as a louder groan reached my over-worked hearing.  I wasn’t moving except for my head slowly turning this way and that to see if I could pick up any further sounds or at least get an idea from where the sound was emanating.

My senses were working but at different levels.  Unfortunately the dread was only aggravating the throbbing in my head. I worried that something evil was waiting – something I couldn’t see, something vicious... something...

There was a further, even louder groan and a shiver of fear ripped through my body. I could feel my bladder already giving way and my arse muscle wanted to do the same. I clamped shut but another even louder sound took away my concentration and for that brief lack of anal attention, all hell broke loose from my rear.


Disorientated I woke up from deep under my covers panting for air and desperately striving to find the fresh variety. It was still dark. My mind couldn’t focus... I reached out and tried to make contact with my mobile, eventually my fingers slipped over the slim metal surface and I pressed the button – 00:14.

Christ, I’d only been in bed two hours and I’d done... this.

I heard another groan; it was my stomach complaining about something inside. So now I had at least identified the disturbing scary sound. Unfortunately, just a few moments later, and without ceremony, and this time with my full knowledge, a second deluge exited my body.

This time the toxic fumes engulfed the room but it mattered little as I was feeling very ill.

I hesitantly threw back the sheet and searched for the bedside lamp to switch on; the darkness disappeared and left me with the familiarity of my bedroom. It still felt a little bit unreal as my mind tried to focus. Meanwhile, my favourite manic looking rock god was looking down with an arrogant grimace, as if finding joy in my shitty situation. I’m sure he would, but I didn’t, I just felt dirty but lacked the initial impetus to get up and change... the heavy ‘anvil’ made rising very difficult. Holding my throbbing head didn’t help at all.


The expulsion of such a foul mass had left me fearful, ashamed, anxious and drained of any sense of being anything more than a helpless child. This was no way to start a Sunday morning even if it was only just into Sunday.

Thankfully, the bedding would remain untainted because for the past few weeks mum had made me sleep in protection because of a sudden bout of wetting. Then I did a quick check... oh no... last night I didn’t wear anything.

I lay there thinking that she’d be over-the-moon at my current situation and be all ‘I told you so” in my face. For the past fortnight I’d tried to talk my way out of having to wear any form of padding, thinking that my occasional wet morning was simply a passing accident that needed no remedy as it was only passing... but mum had insisted. She wasn’t to know that I’d slipped out of her protection on more than one occasion but barely managed to get to the toilet in time. A few times my pyjamas were soaked but I managed to hide that fact.

I heard movement. Mum must have heard me or seen the light on under the door and I could hear her feet padding on the carpet heading my way. There was no way I could hide what had happened, the growing smelly atmosphere of my shitty deposit leaving no excuse.

Without a knock the door swung open and mum and my sister stood there only a brief second before they barged in to take charge.

“Are you ok?” Mum glowered as the smell hit her. “Well young man, it seems we were right and you were wrong.”

My older sister had her hands on her hips as she added contemptuously. “For Christ’s sake Pink... all that screaming... get control... you big baby.”

I lay there feeling useless as the two women in my life took charge. I hadn’t realised it but I must have let out a scream for them both to have come to my aid. Now however, they just looked on in disgust.

Penny, my 16 year-old sister, regarded me as if to say “Well you’ve done it this time”, whilst mum made the practical move of opening all the windows.

She said, “We’ll get you cleaned up but,” then added with more than a hint of threat, “if you think you aren’t wearing a nappy for the next few days you’re sadly out of touch with reality.”

Being guided to the bathroom was like being led to my execution; my head was throbbing and my legs could have been in chains the way I uneasily shuffled the few feet from one room to the other.


It was me who came up with calling my brother ‘Pink’ because when I was first introduced to him at the hospital he was only a few hours old. Mum said “Here’s your new baby brother” and I said “He’s all Pink”, which he was. Later, when I saw him again he had a pale pink Babygro on but dark pink mittens, bootees and bonnet... and again I called him ‘Pink’ every time I saw him. I think they thought it was ‘cute’ but the name caught on and soon everyone was using it.

I’d started kindergarten when he and mummy arrived home but daddy had got all my old baby clothes out for him. Perhaps not surprisingly, and as the family weren’t as well off as we are now, my old babywear was simply recycled to service my new little brother despite there being a lot of girly colours in the range.

Over the next few months he wore my old stuff, much of which was in several shades of ‘baby girl’ pink, although the nappies were made of a white terry cotton fabric. As a baby I had several little smocks, which made access to change my nappy easier. They were a lovely shade of pale red, cherry and crimson, which probably didn’t help much either. So, even though his real name is Thomas David Greenwood, the moniker Pink seemed to stick. Hi, I‘m his sister Penelope (Penny) Felicity Greenwood by the way.


For no reason we could ascertain a month or so ago Pink started waking up wet. Not too often to begin with but he’s been getting worse more recently. It was a surprise as he’s eleven and hadn’t wet the bed for eight years. However, it was getting worse so I complained to mum that Pink’s room was getting very smelly and that the odour of stale urine was reaching my room and suggested (what I thought was a reasonable suggestion) for her to put my brother in some protection to help contain the problem.

Despite her almost daily having to strip his bed and do laundry, she hated the idea of asking him to wear a nappy at night. She thought it would be just too embarrassing for a boy his age to have to wear such a thing. I disagreed and thought it awful that a boy his age should be wetting the bed with no consequences but mum said she was happy to simply put up with it until his ‘problem’ was over.

However, after a few mornings of the stench of pee I was livid. I thought he was not only pissing the bed but taking the piss as well, whilst taking full advantage of mum’s generous nature. Something else I noticed, although mum said she was happy to go along with daily laundry I could tell she was more than a bit fed up but wasn’t sure of a solution seeing as how she’d let it ride some time. A couple of weeks ago I got so frustrated I stormed into his room as he was getting up, the smell of his warm morning pee assaulting my nose, and accused him of being a selfish little brat.


Now, I don’t want you thinking that sister and brother were in a perpetual duel to see who could insult or humiliate the best, because on the whole we got on fine. Unfortunately, I was so wound up I was shouting and hurling curses in my fury. He looked shocked and stood there, his smelly wet boxers hanging from his hips and looking somewhat intimidated by my sudden angry verbal attack. I let him have both barrels as the ‘meek Penny’ decided enough was enough and I didn’t see why me, or the rest of the family, should suffer his childish bedwetting antics.

Although I’m five years his senior (and of course had named him Pink) I don’t think I’d ever angrily let rip so viciously. Mum and dad heard the commotion and came up to placate the situation but I was in no mood. I accused them of letting him get away with being irresponsible and that his lack of any type of thought for anyone else was disgusting. I said I thought the least he could do if he was going to piss the bed was take some precautions to limit the damage. I went on in this vein for quite some time.

It appeared I had a lot to get off my chest.

I don’t think our parents had even thought about how Pink’s (yes even my parents called him that and so do all his friends, he doesn’t seem to mind the name he’s grown up with), bedwetting was affecting me. It had all been about how they didn’t want to make HIM feel bad about something he couldn’t help. Well now they knew exactly how I felt and I was persuasive enough for them to take my side in the argument, especially as he stood there looking ashamed and soaked. For a moment I did feel sorry for him as I’d never seen him look so broken by my verbal assault.

Mum stripped the soaked bed, told him to remove his wet boxers and go get a shower but then said: “Your sister’s correct... from now on there will be changes”.

That night mum had bought some disposables and plastic pants in his size and insisted that when he went to bed he should put them on. Of course he said he was eleven years old and had no intention of wearing them until dad had a quiet ‘man-to-man’ word with him. He reluctantly wore them and not surprisingly woke up soaked but his bedding was dry... and to my utter relief I noticed the morning smelly haze had been kept to a minimum. It had worked so, no matter how much he didn’t like the situation, both mum and dad understood now what was needed so made sure in future he was suitably attired for bed.


Mum was washing down her eleven year-old son, me, who’d just crapped his pants whilst sleeping. I was so ashamed. She asked if I’d eaten or drank anything strange and it was then, through my aching head, that it hit what the probable cause was.

Earlier, me and the lads had been having bit of an unsanctioned party in the woods. We’d all stolen something alcoholic from our homes and Pat had raided the freezer at his place and found packs of burgers and sausages at the bottom. He suggested that we make the ‘party’ more of a barbecue, so, between the four of us we had; eight cans of cider, four cans of lager, a couple of non-specific half empty bottles of spirits and something called Amaretto, which had been sitting untouched in the back of our kitchen cupboard for years.

We’d set a campfire going and as Jimmy and Paggs were in the scouts, they devised a piece of netting to go over the flames on which to cook our frozen bounty. I think by the time we got around to eating, we were more than a little drunk on all the other stuff. However, that didn’t stop us enjoying the woozy moments as sausages and burgers looked ‘well done’ and probably okay for eating. They tasted burnt, but we were too far gone to really tell... it was all just high-spirited fun.

Four eleven year-olds; me, Pat, Paggs and Jimmy being so ‘grown-up’ downed our booze, urging each other on to take a sip of spirit or liqueur between slurps from the cans. None of us were going to refuse the challenge... even if it was the most awful combination going.

Although feeling pretty tipsy, when I got home I think I hid what we’d been up to quite well and excused myself and went to bed around ten. I stripped and although a nappy was laid out ready, I was simply too sloshed to care so didn’t bother. I wasn’t feeling that well and the idea of actually doing something other than sleep was not going to happen. With indigestion, a swirling room and a feeling of sickness I slipped under my welcoming covers and immediately fell asleep.

In the two hours from getting into bed and shitting myself I remember dreaming of the room spinning and being pulled into a dark black abyss. I felt sick but unable to move because all around I could hear the hungry groaning noises of wild animals... or so I thought.

With what had just taken place, I would have been extremely glad for a nappy and tight plastic pants which would have prevented such embarrassment. Now, standing in the bathroom with both mum and Penny looking on, I felt like a stupid little kid who had no control. It was then that, with final massive groan, I leaned over the toilet and threw up whatever was left.


“I don’t know what you’ve been eating young man but it hasn’t agreed with you.” Mum was stating the obvious as she waited to see if there was anything else I needed to deposit in the toilet.

Thankfully she didn’t press me but once I’d stopped retching, the full horror of what I’d deposited in my undies and toilet was revealed. Mum wasn’t squeamish like Penny and helped me out of the stinking messy bundle of soiled material and led me to the shower.

Although I’m eleven and quite capable of washing myself mum decided I needed to be supported in the task as she took charge. I think my slurred speech and apologies didn’t help my case. Once that was complete I was guided back naked to my room and, without any dissent on my part, let her wrap me up in a thick nappy and watched through sleepy eyes as she pulled up a huge pair of opaque plastic pants.

“There now... you should be okay for the night... but we’ll talk in the morning.”

Mum turned off the light and I heard her mention to Penny that she could smell alcohol on my breath so I was in ‘BIG trouble’.


Pink’s not a bad boy but I suspect, like a lot of eleven year-olds, and boys in particular, he’s daft. I don’t think he knows he’s being stupid, or that there are consequences for his actions. However, mum was definitely not happy with this new development in her son’s behaviour, or the state of the bed, or having to clean up his shitty arse and him smelling like a vagrant.

By Sunday morning proper she’d noticed the missing bottle of Amaretto and our neighbour Mrs Armitage had told her that Jimmy, her son, had arrived home heavily intoxicated and threw up all over the kitchen. According to her shamed and apologetic boy they’d been having a bit of a drinks party and barbeque... and he ended up not feeling at all well.

His mother had consigned him to bed for the rest of the day and grounded for the rest of the week plus the following weekend. She was livid with him because she knew what a terror he’d become but “...things were going to change” she’d said with some determined authority. Bedtime was to be 8 o’clock every night and he wasn’t allowed any after-school projects.

Now she knew what had happened mum was planning on something similar as punishment for Pink. She’d looked in on him at 9am and he was still asleep, she’d checked his nappy but he was dry. I checked in on him at 10.30 and he was just struggling to get up whilst complaining about his woozy head. He’d thrown back the duvet and I could see, even if he was yet unaware, it was another wet morning.

I went down and told mum about him moaning about a headache and she said it was what he deserved having had a drunken night with his equally intoxicated eleven year-old mates. She wanted him to suffer, as a lesson, but knew she needed to make sure he knew why he was suffering and that his head was just the beginning of his worries. She quickly went upstairs to his room and told him to get himself down to the kitchen “NOW”. At the same time, she took away his phone - that was one privilege he was going to lose immediately.

“I’ll be down in a minute... I need to organise my...” He tried to reason.

“I said NOW... so don’t make it worse for yourself.”

Mum had added a degree off command to her voice that Pink wasn’t used to.

“You can walk by yourself or I can drag you... you decide which...”

“Can’t I put some pants...?”

“Now means now... so I suggest you stop stalling and move...”

He got out of bed, his nappy wet and saggy in its plastic enclosure and made a move towards the door. He looked around for his phone but couldn’t remember if he’d had it with him. He’d be able to think once his head stopped hammering... he hoped.

“Can’t I just...?”

“Down to the kitchen... you’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”


The guilt of his drunken night, his stealing, his shitty bed and now soggy nappy, all added to his shame as he slowly waddled downstairs. There, sat at the table was his father and sister who were soon to be joined by his mother who’d gone to retrieve something else. He stood in the doorway shaking in nervous anticipation and wishing his head would stop throbbing... he wasn’t prepared for whatever was about to happen.


Mum had already prepped dad and me as to what she was thinking. She’d had conversations with a couple of the parents of his mates he’d been out partying with and found out that all had arrived home in a terrible state. They hadn’t gone into too much detail but between them it was thought boys of their age shouldn’t be getting drunk when they knew it was wrong so... a serious penalty was the order of the day.

Grounding was going to be the main punishment and an early bed time. Each parent was also going to add their own penance and mum had discussed what she had in mind and got both dad and me to agree. I didn’t think that Pink was going to enjoy the next part of the conversation but knew after last night that he’d have very little option if he wanted some kind of social life.


I knew from mum’s tone of voice I was in some trouble and detected it wasn’t just because I’d crapped the bed last night. I didn’t know what she knew about me being drunk or what me and the lads had got up to but I suspected that I was about to find out. I stood at the kitchen doorway, soaked nappy sagging and dad and Penny looking at me half in humour and half in disgust.

“Wait there until you mum gets here.” Dad said sternly. So I knew I was in trouble as I can normally rely on him to take my side in an argument.

“You look pathetic,” Penny added with an evil grin. I knew then and there that if whatever happens was up to her I’d be in deep do-dos by now.

Mum swished past me carrying a pile of stuff.

“Right Pink you are in serious trouble. Here’s what we know because I don’t want to give you the opportunity to lie and make things worse. However, should you lie to me at any point over the period of your punishment, that punishment will re-set and you’ll start all over again. Do you understand?”

My saggy, soggy nappy was beginning to itch and feel most uncomfortable but I dare not touch or scratch the area. I looked at the assembled judges, my family, and decided I’d simply better not react badly to whatever was going to go down. I nodded.

“For stealing alcohol – grounded for a week.”

I thought I’d got off pretty leniently.

“For having a drinking session in the woods and arriving home drunk... when you are only eleven years old – grounded for an extra two weeks.”

“But mum haven’t I suffered...”

“Shut up Pink... you’re in too deep to raise any objections and I’d advise you to stay quiet... for your own good.”

Mum was threatening me in a typical mum way. She was calm and measured but I’d better take notice or as she said it would be a lot worse.

“Not wearing your protection when that would have saved the bedding last night... grounded for a month.”

My intake of breath meant that was huge blow and crippling for future plans.

The injustice of it all, and, for the first time in many years, I wanted to cry but knew I’d brought this on myself. Even as we were in the woods and doing what we were doing I knew it was wrong and they’d be some sort of repercussions but I didn’t want to lose face with my mates.

“For being totally irresponsible and acting like a baby... your bedtime protection has from this moment been advanced... to you wearing protection 24/7.”

“But mum that’s stupid, I can’t wear a nappy to school and....” I pleaded.

“What you can’t do Pink is have a say in this. You’ve made your own messy circumstances so now you get to enjoy the fruits of your own stupidity.”

I saw Penny’s face light up and dad just looked serious. Mum I knew was serious and I had no idea how to go about changing her mind.

“Please mum, dad, erm, I’m sorry... I swear I won’t do it again... it was just a bit of fun...”

“I see, so messing your bed, ruining sheets and... everything... was all ‘a bit of fun’...?” Mum can be sarcastic when she wants.

“Mum, Dad I’m sorry please don’t make me wear a nappy...”

“You already wear one for sleeping in so, as a reminder of what you’ve done, and I’m sure your friends will be getting their own punishment because, no one is happy with any of you... so... this is the end of such behaviour.”

“But mum...” She was carrying a bunch of stuff in her arms and I now realised it was for me.

“Right, upstairs to the bathroom now, have a shower and then I’ll get you sorted for the day.”

I was just about to turn and reluctantly do as mum said when Penny interrupted.

“Mum, don’t you think he should have breakfast first?”

“I suppose it makes more sense changing him after he’s eaten.”

“Just in case he craps some more,” Penny added maliciously.

“That’s enough of that young lady...” Mum gently admonished.

“I’m not hungry.” I angrily interrupted.

“No one is asking the baby of the family... you’ll do as you’re told when you’re told... understand.”

“Baby?” What was mum talking about?

Mum was in my face and it was that tone again that said... don’t you dare mess... I got it and sat down at the table. Mum poured cereal and splashed on some milk, filled a glass with orange juice and topped-up their coffee. I sat in my squishy nappy but that wasn’t the only thing that was uncomfortable... I could feel everyone’s disapproving eyes on me as I ate.

I was desperate to make my case but decided, rather than feel mum’s wrath I’d wait for an opportunity to speak to dad separately. I was sure I could get him to be more reasonable.

My body temperature seemed to rise and I could feel the heat making me go red with embarrassment. It was an awkward few minutes as I ate in silence whilst normal life went on. I was more than a bit worried about being grounded for so long but even more worried that mum meant her threat and I’d have to wear a nappy all day long from now on.

I wondered if any of the other guys were facing such a horrible prospect. I was also hoping to find my phone so I could speak and find out what was happening to them. Unfortunately, I had no idea where I’d put it.


The throbbing in my head had subsided a little but was still making me wish I’d not drunk anything last night. My mouth, despite the cereal, felt like something awful had crawled in and deposited something nasty there. I really wasn’t functioning very well at all.

I was debating with myself whether to apologise loudly and constantly in the hope of mum relenting her sentence, or keeping quiet and hoping my sadness and obvious hangover might work in my favour and garner some sympathy. I didn’t know what to do so I suffered in silence.

When I’d finished my meal I got up to go but mum said that as I was the baby of the family I had to wait for an adult to give permission before I did anything... and that included leaving the table.

There she’d said it again baby... what was that about?

Muummm please be reasonable.” I begged through tears that suddenly appeared without warning. The pounding head returned with my sudden plea.

“Let me make it perfectly clear if I haven’t already Pink... from now on you will be treated like a small child as if you don’t know right from wrong. You’ve put us through enough recently and this last act of stupidity is the final straw. You will follow any and all instruction that we three give you.” She pointed to herself, dad and Penny.

“But why Penny I argued.”

“You’re arguing again and I’ve just told you not to so... your punishment is being increased by a further week.”

Oh god... two months of... I didn’t really want to think about it.

I realised I was in a terrible situation and the tears that had been hanging waiting suddenly enveloped me.

Muummm.” I begged one last time but knew that there was no further discussion on the subject. My confidence slumped and any thoughts of being my age disappeared when mum made her next announcement.

“I’ll tell you one more time, any argument with anyone and your punishment is increased by a week and your bedtime comes forward by half an hour.”

“Muuuummm this is so unfair.” I sniffed quietly but knew the debate was over.

She looked at me as if to say, that’s your final say, and it was. My tears fell like they did when I was a kid and had hurt myself, which in some ways I suppose I had.


I sat in a soaked nappy, crying and trying not to appear a big baby but it simply wasn’t working. I was totally distraught and had no idea what I could do to relieve the situation. I knew I’d been stupid and I couldn’t claim that I didn’t know what I was doing. When I thought about it – what was I thinking - that mum would never know or that the bottle of Amaretto wouldn’t be discovered missing? Now the tears fell because I was feeling sorry for myself but knew I had no response to what mum decided.

Now she saw that I understood the gravity of the situation and that there’d be no backing out of it her fierce expression dropped to one of concern and motherliness.

“Okay sweetie, we can all see you need a change so off you go to the bathroom and one of us will be up in a minute to help... there’s a good boy... off you go.” She tapped my sodden protection as I ambled dejectedly upstairs.

I didn’t want to go. I was determined not to be treated this way. She was speaking to me like I was a toddler. I wasn’t going to put up with these rules... except... I was and I did.

Unfair as I saw it I realised I had no option. Whatever my parents said or decided I was in no position to rile against. I’d made a complete mess of stuff and if my friends were also being punished I’d nowhere to go for any sympathy. I wish I had my phone to find out.

I reluctantly traipsed upstairs and into my bedroom. Mum and dad had cleaned it up and even that awful smell from earlier had almost been got rid of. I was grateful for this and very glad I hadn’t been made to clean the place up myself. That’s when I realised I’d had my phone when I first woke up but someone had taken it. It slowly dawned on me that mum must have it and the chances of getting it back were slim to nil.

By now I was really fed up of having to wear a soaked nappy and because mum didn’t say I shouldn’t I got rid of it as soon as I could, wrapped a towel around my waist and headed for the shower. I was quite angry with myself and, as I stood under the spray, kept telling myself off for being so reckless and thoughtless. I’m eleven years old... what was I thinking?

I suspected, after all this, that I wouldn’t be able to get dad onside. I’d literally made my life a complete mess and had no one to blame but myself... well and Pat, Paggs and Jimmy... though I doubted they would be any help.


When Pink returned from the shower I was waiting.

I’d said to mum and dad that I would make sure he wore a nappy. Mum said it should be her but dad was on my side.

“You’re the one who brought this to a head so perhaps you should be the one to do it... just so he knows his place...”

“But darling, don’t you think he’ll be too embarrassed his sister taking control?” Mum seemed genuinely concerned but I was hoping dad wouldn’t relent. He didn’t.

“He may be embarrassed but let’s face it... he has a great deal to be embarrassed about. No, we need to let him know that if he’d going to act like a silly little kid, that’s how he’ll be treated and his BIG sister will be there to help him through it.”

“Well, if you’re sure dear.”

I think after being so strict with him, she was glad that someone else was taking the lead.


When he came back I had all his stuff laid out and waiting. We don’t bother with church or anything like that on Sunday but, the weather was nice and we had plans.

“Okay little bro... let’s get you ready for the rest of the day...”

“Mummmm, why is Penny in my room?” He shouted angrily.

There was no reply.

“Daaadddd, why is...?”

“You can stop that noise right away mister. Your sister is there to supervise you getting dressed because we don’t know that you can manage such a task on your own.” Dad was being unusually sarcastic. “You’ve acted like you don’t know the meaning of responsibility... well good for you because now you don’t have any. Perhaps, once she’s shown you how to wear a nappy properly we might let you try it yourself. Until then, your changes and choice of clothes will be supervised by any one of us... do you understand?”

Dad didn’t say it threateningly but I think he made his point as I saw Pink physically shrink back into his towel. He nodded.

“Good. Okay Penny, can you sort your little brother out and be ready in fifteen minutes please?”

I have no idea what was going through my brother’s mind at that point but I bet he’d wished he hadn’t done what he did.


I slowly pulled away his wet towel and told him to lie on another dry towel I’d spread out on his bed. A waterproof mattress protector had been added to his bed after his first wet night, which made a rustling noise as he climbed on it. Mum had told me to make sure the anti-rash cream was laid on thick and then the powder. Of course I’d changed him before when he was an actual baby, and I’d done a fair bit of babysitting, so knew what was expected, although not for one as large as my brother. Still, he was now my baby brother so I was happy to get on with it. Well, happy might not be the right word but, as I started all of this I thought I’d better stay involved. Mum wanted to make sure he was in no doubt he was being punished for what he’d done but she didn’t want him to suffer because of a lack of care on our part.

The expression on his face told me he was very unhappy about the situation but spoke not a word throughout the operation. He was very uncomfortable as I rubbed in the cream, especially around his bits and pieces and his bottom. He didn’t giggle as I sprayed loads of powder onto his crotch, which I hoped might relieve some of the tension. He just looked daggers as I flapped out a terry nappy and included a soaker pad before fitting it and pinning him tightly in.

Mum had insisted he wear plastic pants and a nice new pair of sleek white ones waited to be shimmied up his legs. Once I’d done that I got him to stand and for the first time he could see what he looked like in the mirror. Although he’d had to wear a nappy at night this was the first time he’d had to wear one during the day and I knew it would be a bit daunting for him, so tried to relieve the tension yet again.

“Looking good baby bro.” I whispered cheekily.

He let out a huge irate sigh. I saw him look over to his jeans on the chair but mum had said he wasn’t going to be allowed anything that made him feel like a teenager. In fact, although he didn’t know it yet, mum’s plan was that when at home he was only to wear his nappy and plastic pants. She’d also indicated that if he acted up, he’d lose his shorts and he’d be wearing just protection even when he was out. She wasn’t going to put up with any argument from him and at the moment, that punishment looked like it would last two months.

Meanwhile, I’d sorted a pair of loose-fitting fleecy shorts for him to wear, which I was sure would cover the offending article, but not completely hide it, a large pale blue t-shirt, a matching sweatshirt and helped him into them. I could see the resentment growing so stopped being the ‘nice’ sister and told him to behave as I could do without any attitude from a stupid baby. I could see he was desperate to retaliate in some way but dad called up to see if we were ready and it took the moment away.


The instant I saw Penny waiting by my bed I knew things were going to be even worse than I expected. Dad having a go didn’t help and made me feel I was a complete and utter failure for behaving the way I had. Although I didn’t want my sister’s attention at least she didn’t appear to have it in for me and it was only later, when she whispered something about being a ‘baby’ that I lost it a little. I didn’t say anything but it was brewing.

The nappy fitting was unbearable... I didn’t know where to look or how to react. When mum had done it the night before I was too pissed to be that bothered but now? Penny seemed to be enjoying her power and I knew it was her that had started this whole thing rolling. However, I just wanted for this to finish and then I could put my jeans on and hide the offending padding.

“Why is mum doing this?” I sulkily asked hoping for perhaps a little sympathy.

“Well Pink, you’ve been rather stupid and last night’s messy bed seemed to have pushed mum’s buttons because... I’ve never seen her so angry.”

“But why nappies?” I whispered afraid at being overheard by mum.

“I assume it’s because you didn’t wear one last night... AND... don’t forget... you’ve been wetting at night for a while now and it shows no sign of stopping.”

“But that’s not my fault...”

“Maybe not but you have been an absolute pain with mum rushing around cleaning up after you and not so much as a please or thank you... perhaps she thinks you take too much for granted.”

She pressed the plastic pants to expel the air and made sure the fabric was tucked behind.

“There. I think they suit you.”

She was all smiles but I hated her at that second because she was being superior and up herself.

However, when I saw that she’d already got clothes organized it suddenly struck me that I wasn’t going to get a choice and perhaps shorts were the best I could expect if mum regarded me as a silly little kid. The way Penny helped me into everything also sapped at my self-confidence...  I was being treated as a helpless little kid.

Anyway, I looked in the mirror and while I knew the thick cushion was there it didn’t show too much and I’d worn this outfit myself on several occasions so that was ok. Dad shouted for us to get a move on and although I was dressed and ready, I didn’t have a clue what for or where we were going.

For the past couple of weeks wearing a nappy to sleep in, or to walk from bedroom to bathroom, hadn’t been too much of a problem but now I had to wear one for traveling more than a few yards, it did feel pretty strange. I was very aware of the extra padding, the slight rustle as I moved and the crinkle of the plastic pants with each step. This was going to be horrendous and desperately hoped mum and dad would have a re-think about this weird punishment.

#### be continued


















Part 2

Normally I sit in the front seat next to dad but this time mum was there so me and Penny sat in the back.

“Where we going?”

Mum and dad looked smart but casual so I knew it wasn’t just a drive round to some scenic beauty spot, although the weather was so nice I wouldn’t have minded.

“Are we all strapped in?” Mum was being her mumsy best and once she was certain we were settled dad set off.

“Well, it’s granny’s birthday today... and she has a special announcement.”

I’d forgotten all about it even though mum mentioned it over a week ago... she even reminded me to get her a card because we’d be visiting.

“I forgot to get her a card.”

“Well sweetie, that’s not a surprise...” Mum’s tone was pleasant but with a little bit of mockery. “So it’s just as well we’ve put your name on ours.”

Like she used to do when I was a little kid and couldn’t write very well. I got the message... she was treating me like she had then. This was going to be a long day.

“It’s a special day for granny so they’ll be a few of us. So you’ll be seeing your Aunty Pam, Uncle Peter and your cousins... it should be a lovely day with the weather being so nice.”

I blushed furiously realising that someone might notice my padding.

“Ermm, mum, dad, what about my, you know...?” I pointed to the obvious bulge under my shorts.

Mum looked at me sweetly.

“Don’t worry about that sweetheart; we’ll change you when you’re wet.”


I sat in the back seat pondering what mum had just implied and I wasn’t comfortable at all. So, whilst all the chit-chat went on around me I became a bit withdrawn trying to work out if my parents would actually want me to pee in my nappy.

‘My nappy’ - what was I thinking?

Up until that moment I’d forgotten about the bundle of fabric that made up my underwear, but then, with Penny smiling knowingly, that padding seemed to engulf me completely.

I couldn’t believe that everything would just carry on as normal around me whilst I was in a state of total humiliation. Although my pale blue fleecy shorts hid the bulk, now I was sat down that large smooth bulge in front emphasised exactly what I was wearing. I didn’t dare think about what I looked like around my rear.

It suddenly occurred to me that whilst I’d worn this outfit before it was still relatively new. The shorts and top were made of the same soft fleecy material and unfortunately I now began to see it as really quite childish. Penny had deliberately dressed me up in what could be interpreted as ‘baby blue’ to make me look like a little kid... or that was my conclusion as I stewed in resentment all the way to granny’s place.


It was slowly dawning on Pink that when mum said that as he couldn’t act like a ‘big boy’, with a sense of right and wrong, then she would treat him as a baby, she meant it. I knew mum had every intention of making him use his nappy as she hadn’t put him in it just for effect. She had told me and dad that it was meant to make sure he didn’t forget what happens when you become careless, unthinking, self-centred... and stupid. No, that nappy, and several more like it, would be his constant companion for the next few weeks. That is, unless he acts up, creates a problem or defies any of us, in which case it will be much longer.

Gran’s house is about a two hour drive from where we live and I could tell from the way he was wriggling in his seat he was getting more and more nervous about anyone possibly noticing he was wearing padding. What I didn’t realise straight away was that he was actually wriggling around because he was desperate for a pee and was hoping to do the deal when we arrived at granny’s and he could slope off and use the toilet.

When we arrived it was like the entire family had gathered. Aunts, uncles, cousins, grand-kids, neighbours and Doctor Solomon; in all there were about thirty of us to help gran celebrate her birthday. As it was such a beautifully sunny day the large rear garden had several tables, which strained under the contents of bowls, plates and serving trays with a host of sandwiches, flans and cold goodies waiting for the ravenous horde.

Uncle Peter (mum’s brother) was in charge of the equally busy barbecue, whilst Aunt Pam was ‘manning’ a small bar. Even the kids could order their drinks from it, which was fun, even if they were only allowed water, juice and colas. Granny liked order even at a party.

I noticed Doctor Solomon, gran’s next door neighbour, hanging close by and attending to her and smiling. Gran was also smiling a lot as she greeted us all.


I’m at that age now where I don’t like to be hugged by an adult; I think it’s for kids. Unfortunately, it’s difficult not hugging granny as she welcomed us with her usual warm and enthusiastic embrace.

“Happy Birthday grandma.”

“Why thank you Pink... how’s my favourite grandson?” Her hug was genuine as she held me tightly.

I know she must say that to all her grandchildren but after the day (and weeks) I’d had, for some reason it did make me feel good.

As she released me from her loving embrace she patted my bottom and obviously felt the thick padding as I awkwardly tried to pull away.

“Have you been naughty?” She whispered in my ear but I was just too embarrassed to reply so guiltily escaped her probing hands and words.

Penny was next, then dad, then mum hugged her mother wholeheartedly as they exchanged a few quiet and private words.

I was sure mum was telling her about my messy night time experience but the conversation didn’t last that long before someone else popped up for a greeting.

“Oh hello Mary,” Gran said to the newly arrived neighbour. “Glad you could make it... have you brought the children...?”


I didn’t hear the rest of the conversation but looked around trying to fathom where my best exit strategy would be. There were a group of kids, some my cousins, who were a lot younger than me, running around playing with a ball, whilst others chased bubbles. I knew granny’s house quite well and, as I’d been feeling the need for a pee for some time, thought I’d get myself to the bathroom before any kind of rush started. When I got there the room was engaged and a small queue had gathered outside so decided I’d go back later. I’m a boy so having a secret piddle wasn’t that hard to do. So, if I had to, and I could find a private place, relieve myself there.

I knew I’d be missed if I just hid in one of the bedrooms for the duration of our stay and no doubt that would lead to even more punishment but I wanted to be away from everybody so needed a new strategy.

Unfortunately mum caught up with me as soon as I returned to the garden.

“Where’ve you been?” By the tone of her voice and look on her face she knew exactly where I’d been and for what reason.

“Nowhere, just, erm, err, checking out the loo...”

She rubbed my elbow in a familiar way.

“Don’t worry darling, you won’t need the toilet... you’re wearing yours.”

“You can’t be serious.”

Mum just looked as if to say ‘Do I look like I’m kidding?’

“Of course I am sweetie... and I expect you to be... because if I think you’ve cheated there will be consequences.”

There was that word again ‘consequences’. I’d never heard a word used so much and it appeared always aimed at me and what was expected.

“You can tell anyone when you’re wet and you’ll be changed into a fresh clean nappy... otherwise you can just wear the sopping thing around the place. I’m sure some of the other children here would like to see that.”

“Mum... pllleeaassee don’t make me.” I was almost in tears but knew that wasn’t going to work.

“Are you wanting to go now?”

“Yes, yes, I’m desperate.”

“Okay, well go in your nappy now and I’ll change you immediately.”

“I can’t just... you know... do it.”

“You seem to have no trouble during the night so...”

“But I can’t just...”

“Oh well, come and find me when you have... daddy’s packed a nappy bag for you.”

I looked around and hadn’t noticed that dad had a large bag at his feet, which I hadn’t seen him bring in to the garden.

“There’s everything we’ll need in that,” she said pointing, “so, don’t leave it too late... we don’t want you getting a rash. That can be most uncomfortable.”

I looked at her in disbelief but I also knew she wasn’t joking and at that same moment I felt the first spurt into my nappy. I clamped my bladder as hard as I could to stop the flood and hoped mum hadn’t noticed. I didn’t want to fill my nappy in front of anyone... least of all mum.

“Julia... how lovely to see you again it’s been ages...|”

Someone had called mum’s name so she turned and walked off to chat to one of the neighbours.


I felt a surge of embarrassment run through my body even though I knew nobody could tell what had just taken place. Unfortunately, that hot flush led to a hot gush, so, despite a brave attempt on my part to prevent it happening, I filled the front of my protection.

I stood stock still wondering what to do. Should I tell mum, dad or even Penny but they were all talking to people and I was feeling extremely shy, ashamed and more than a bit vulnerable? How was I going to ask to be changed at my age? Although I’ve woken up wet several times now, this was a new experience for me, knowing I was doing it. Although there was warmth around my groin I didn’t like it at all. I just wanted to hide away until the party was over and wait until we got home before telling anyone about... well... I didn’t want to admit to peeing in the day time... and in my nappy.

Look I’ve said it again, ‘My Nappy’, I’m going to have to stop doing that.

I had another problem – mum had repeatedly told me not to stay in a wet nappy for too long before getting a change. It wasn’t healthy and a rash could result fairly quickly. She never said how quickly but that thought was occupying my head as I searched for a place to get away.

I was just about to find a secluded corner when mum came up and told me I had to go and keep the kids entertained and stop them from doing anything stupid. I was going to complain but she reminded me not to argue unless I wanted my bedtime brought forward to 7.30.

I know I should have taken the opportunity to tell her I needed a change but still couldn’t admit to peeing myself.

However, I went over to where the main group of kids were. Penny was blowing bubbles and it seemed to have engaged most of them. A few were sat on a blanket on the lawn eating and drinking so I went over to say ‘Hello’ to Emma, my five year-old cousin.

“Hiya Pink... I’ve just eaten a big burger.” She beamed with pride.

I could tell as quite a bit of tomato ketchup had dribbled down her front but more revealing was the half-eaten item lying on the grass next to her.

“Have you Emma... that’s good... erm... what are you fancying next?” I was awful at small talk but at least I didn’t have to come up with anything clever.

Her friend chimed in. “We’re having apple juice.” They both nodded in unison and held up a couple of little cartons with straws sticking out. “And there’s a cake later.” Again they nodded and smiled as if that was the main thing.

“Aren’t you hot wearing that big sweatshirt?” It was Emma’s ten year-old brother Bradley.

“Oh hi Bradley... mmm... no I’m okay.” The truth was I was not only sweltering because of the sweatshirt, under my shorts the heat of the soaked padding and plastic pants were also making their presence felt. I sat down on a cooler box hoping some air might blow up my pant leg and cool things down a little.

“Whydya called Pink?” Emma’s little friend asked.

“Ohhh,” I wasn’t in the mood to explain. “It’s just a nickname... do you have a nickname?”

“Emma calls me Patty.” She looked to Emma for confirmation.

“I see, so what is your name?”

“Patty... silly.” She looked at me as if I must be stupid and I’d just been innocently duped by a five year-old.

Bradley had come to sit on the grass in front of me and I could see him staring a little warily.

“Erm... are you wearing a nappy?” He sounded unsure and a little incredulous.

Suddenly my body got hotter and I must have blushed brightly because I leapt up off my seat and stormed off wondering how I was going to hide this fact. I wasn’t sure how he knew or if anyone else had heard his question but I didn’t want to stay around to find out.

Then I began to wonder if I shouldn’t have just denied the accusation and styled it out but Bradley wasn’t stupid and must have had a good reason to mention it.

I turned back thinking I’d try to convince Bradley not to tell anyone but it was too late. There were already in a little group looking across at me. I felt like I was the main attraction in a freak show.


Now I was burning up with anger and although it had been me who’d walked away, I was furious with Bradley for being a bit of a tattle-tale. I stormed over to the group determined to tell him off but Penny had arrived to take the younger kids to the bathroom so didn’t get chance to let lose my anger. However, I was seething and also very hot and it was Penny that asked if everything was alright.

I mumbled something, shrugged and stormed off to get myself something to eat from the barbecue. As I stood waiting for my burger to be finished someone came up and patted my padded bottom.

I was still livid and thinking it was Bradley just making sure to pile on my embarrassment I shouted, “Just fuck off will you?” It was only when I saw the look of horror on Uncle Peter’s face that I knew something was wrong.

I turned and saw granny looking stunned. In fact, as I looked around I saw more people had heard what I’d said and were looking at me with a mixture of horror and disgust.

“Ohh, I’m sorry granny. I, er, umm errr... I thought you were, erm, um, someone else.” I stuttered.

“Well young man, I’m surprised you’d say such a word to anyone... but...”

“What’s going on?” It was mum, drawn by the exclamations of the other guests and the stunned look on grandma’s face.

Granny said nothing but a neighbour informed her I’d sworn.

Granny tried to take the sting out of the situation. “It doesn’t matter, I’m sure he didn’t mean it.”

“What did HE say?” Mum was having none of it but the ever helpful neighbour whispered in mum’s ear.

“Well that’s very grown up talk for a little boy isn’t it?” These were not the words or the intonation I wanted to hear. I knew I was in trouble.

“Mum, gran, I’m really sorry... I thought it was someone else... I mean, sorry, sooorrrry...” My apology drifted to a whisper.

“You’re always sorry but yet still act like a thoughtless toddler... well I’ve had enough.”

There was anger and accusation in her voice and I knew not to join in. I just hoped if I listened and didn’t react then all this would be over quickly and things could get back to normal.

Thankfully granny said that the cake was about to be served and that changed the atmosphere a bit as most people followed her lead and left me and mum together. By now both dad and Penny had arrived and seemed to know what had happened. They both looked pretty pissed at me.

Mum had her hands on my shoulders and I could tell she was holding back her fury.

“Right, take off your sweatshirt... now.” The command wasn’t one I could ignore.

I did as I was told and handed it to her. I stood in a thin t-shirt and my fleecy shorts but I was still sweating from the situation and the sunny day.

“And now the shorts.” She held out her hand.

“Mum, please don’t make me...”

“I’m going to ask you once more and if your shorts aren’t in my hand by the count of three I’m going to get you father to put you over his knee and spank the living daylights out of you in front of everyone... So, shorts NOW.”

I wasn’t sure if dad would do what mum said but I didn’t want to take any chances because either way everyone would see my nappy.

“But mum please I’m wet...”


Please...” I pleaded.


“Okay, okay.” I reluctantly pulled at the waistband and dragged them down my legs and handed the warm fabric over to mum.

“From now until we go home you will only wear what you have on now. There will be no hiding away and you will be on your best behaviour because if you aren’t... you bottom is going to be very red and very sore.”

I stood in tears of humiliation and with my gleaming white plastic pants catching the sun no one could be in any doubt about what I was wearing.

“Perhaps people will be more forgiving now they can see you’re really just a little toddler who doesn’t know right from wrong.”


I stood there mortified disbelieving that mum would do such a thing but there was no doubt my thick damp padding encased in glossy plastic really did tell everyone I was just a pants-wetting little kid.

She turned and left with dad and I didn’t get chance to ask for a change. Penny just looked on.

“You idiot.” Was her only comment before some kids came to ask her why I was wearing a nappy.

“Oh, he’s been a very naughty little boy... and... like all babies who wet and poo themselves needs to wear a nappy.” She looked at me with distaste and obviously any thought of her being in the least bit understanding was now gone.

I could have done without her last ‘baby’ comment but she was leading most of the kids away, although one or two were keen to look and laugh at my dilemma. It wasn’t Bradley who made the obvious damning observations but a few of the younger kids.

“Are you really wearing a baby’s nappy?”

“You look like a little kid.”

“Have you pooed as well?”

I looked over to where Bradley and some of the older kids were and they were regarding me in disbelief because of what had befallen me. There were more jibes but I knew I didn’t dare react... so just stood there and took the abuse... though the tears rolling down my face didn’t do my image much good.

#### be continued



















Part 3

Because the t-shirt was too short to cover the entire thing, two brave little tots came up and stroked the slinky padding.

“Ohhh just like my baby sister’s...”

“I use-ta-ofta wear plasty-pants but I’m a big boy now... am 4.”

I was suddenly in a world of my own. Nothing going on around me made much sense, nor was I bothered by it because my mind had gone numb. It wasn’t until Uncle Peter came over that I was suddenly brought back to Earth.

“Mum used to do that to me when I’d been acting up.” He said pointing at granny. “She said that if I behaved like a baby I’d be treated like one... it got me so angry.”

At last, someone who understands.

“What did you do to get out of it?” He’d got my interest but he looked around like he’d still get into trouble for speaking to me... and he was an adult.

“Well, my first thought was to rebel and just refuse but both mum and dad had a paddle that soon made me think otherwise. No matter what I did or said the nappy stayed and I couldn’t convince them otherwise.”

“Sooo, what did you do?”

“I thought, well, if I have to wear a nappy and I’m not allowed to change it myself, I’ll mess and pee in it as much as I can and then they’ll have to change me and deal with the results... but...”

“Order, ORDER please.”

This instruction was from the main area and drew our attention and interrupted our chat.

“Please make sure you all have a drink to toast our birthday girl.”

There was polite laughter from the crowd and a coyly embarrassed look from granny.  

I wasn’t sure who was calling everyone to order but we all moved to gather around granny.

Someone started a speech and Uncle Peter moved away to be with Aunty Pam and their kids, whilst Penny gathered me up and we both shuffled to be next to mum and dad. There were a host of other little family gatherings surrounded us.

“Thank you all for coming...” and then another voice started singing Happy Birthday and soon the entire garden was in song. I wasn’t very enthusiastic but a look from dad made me at least look like I was. Meanwhile, I was pondering over Uncle Peter’s brilliant suggestion and thought it was pretty clever... a sort of reverse punishment because it would be they who’d do the suffering.  I reasoned that if I messed and others had to clean up after me... they’d soon tire of it and things would get back to normal pronto. With this thought, and a determination to do just that buzzing in my head, I sang as loudly as anyone, which got the nodded approval from mum. I smugly thought – she wasn’t going to know what hit her.

“...Happy Birthday to You”.


Although I was feeling anxious and upset about wearing a nappy, now I had a focus it wasn’t quite as bad. However, I found Bradley and asked him why he wondered if I was wearing one.

“I thought I saw the plastic bulge up your pant leg whilst you were sat on the cooler. It was pretty obvious.”

So it was as a result of something I’d done... mmm... I can’t blame him for that. “But why did you tell everyone?”

“I didn’t, I only asked you because... look... follow me.”

He gently guided me away from the main crowd, and in a moment of suspense, eased down the top of his waistband to reveal the tell-tale ruffles of a disposable.

“Oh my god... you as well?”

Bradley just nodded. “Mum always makes me wear a nappy as punishment.”

“Why, what on Earth have you done?” I hoped that he’d crapped the bed and then I wouldn’t have felt so guilty about doing such a childish thing.

“Blamed Emma for something I did... I got her into trouble but then... you know... the truth came out and... well... a week in nappies.”

I nodded.

“Oh, did you know that’s what gran used to do with your dad... put him in nappies when he was bad... and paddle him?”

“I didn’t... but this was mum’s idea...”

“Yer... it was my mum who put me in a nappy.”

“Why... what did you do?”

I wasn’t too keen on fessing up that I’d been wetting the bed for a few weeks and had shit myself recently. Although he was nearby when Penny had explained why I was wearing a nappy to those little kids, I wasn’t sure he’d heard all of it.

“Stole some booze from the house and got drunk.” I hoped this sounded pretty cool but as I was standing there in just a t-shirt and obviously thick padding, I guess that hope wasn’t happening either.

“You look wet...”

“Yer, I am, mum won’t let me go to the toilet...”

“I know. I hate having to do my stuff in a nappy but mum insists it’s the only way I’m going to learn.”

“Yer but what?”

“Dunno... but I hate it when I have to go.”

“Too late for me but I think I’ll see if I can get a change... do you need to?”

“No,” he massaged the front of his bulky shorts, “still plenty of absorption left. See you later.”

Despite what she’d said earlier I thought Penny would be my best bet so wandered around trying to find her, which made it easier for folk to pat my bulging but slippery vinyl bottom.


The sunny weather had certainly brought more of a crowd out to granny’s do so there was no place to hide. Mum had made sure everyone knew I was being punished but thankfully hadn’t told them of my messy accident. So, rather than give her a reason to ‘explain all’ to the assembly, and although I was unhappy about it, I roamed around pretending (unsuccessfully) this was normal.

My crotch was feeling uncomfortable. I was not feeling as hot and sweaty like I had when wearing shorts and sweat shirt. However, despite saying otherwise, I was still more than a bit self-conscious about just how obvious it was that my nappy was wet (there I go again ‘My Nappy’, this is annoying).

Eventually I found Penny entertaining a group of small kids.

“Erm Penny, can I have a word... please.”

I hoped she could see the sincerity of my plea.

She looked up and then without a seconds thought replied. “Go and get your nappy bag from mum and I’ll see to you.”

I hesitated, as I didn’t want mum to know if I could help it.

“Go, I’m not, so if you want a change... can stay as you are... festering.” She sniffed the air. “And smelling of pee.”

The sudden idea that anyone could smell what I’d done had me panicking. So, as she wasn’t going to do the footwork I set off to find dad who was the last person I saw with the bag. However, on the trip I noticed mum had it over her shoulder so, taking the bull by the horns.

“Mum, can I please have the bag... erm... I’m wet and Penny’s said she’d... you know...”

“Well that was very nice of your sister wasn’t it? I hope you thanked her for being so considerate.”

Actually I hadn’t and a sudden shiver of doubt shot up my spine.

“Well,” mum said with a shrug, “I’m doing nothing at the moment so I suppose I could do it.”

“Erm,” and then it hit me. “Thanks mum... but I don’t want to put you to any trouble and Penny’s already said...”

She held out her hand with a smile and waited for me to take it.

“Now then sweetie, let’s not bother your sister again today... I’ll look after any nappy changes... okay?”

She wasn’t going to let me get away without holding her hand as she led me into the house and up to the bathroom. The room was occupied but there was only us waiting and mum held my hand all the time even when the person left and he could see me in a nappy and holding my mummy’s hand. I felt like a big kid again and I didn’t like it. I decided that after this change I was going to dump a real load in the damn thing once we got home.


Whereas Penny had just got on with it, mum dragged it out, taking everything slowly and talking to me like I was a toddler. Once the plastic pants were off she un-pinned my soaked nappy and threw it in the sink.

“I’ll rinse that through before we go.”

She then pulled a wash-cloth from the bag, soaked it under the hot tap, rung it out and then began to mop at my reddening skin.

“This takes me back. My little Pinky-Winky all wet and messy and all he really wants is a dry nap-nap to make him feel bet-bet.”

I didn’t say anything as I was trying my best not to react to where she was concentrating her wipes.

“Mmmm... but what we need to complete the picture is a nice dummy between your lips...maybe a bottle of warm milky-wilky... hmmm?”

I didn’t respond though wondered if she would actually make me suck on a dummy. I wouldn’t put it past her the way she’d decided on this as a punishment.

She knew I couldn’t react and spent time rubbing in the anti-rash cream before a large shower of powder.

“Now Baby Pink is all lovely and smelling nice; just his lovely new clean nappy and soaker... and then back into his favourite plastic panties.”

Panties, uurrggg, I hated that term.

I could tell she was trying her best to both humiliate and get a rise out of me but I stayed silent, if I didn’t say anything I couldn’t make things worse. I also wasn’t sure if she was enjoying my humiliation or merely trying to emphasise how demeaning it was to be in my position.

Eventually the ordeal was over and once standing thought how much better it was to wear a dry nappy than a nasty wet one... although I wasn’t going to admit that preference.

“Well now,” mum said in her loving but sarcastic way, “what does baby say to his lovely mummy-wummy?”

I nearly said something I shouldn’t but decided to be a bit more guarded. “Thanks mum.”

“No trouble sweetheart... I hope you’re enjoying the day but we better get back as I think granny’s going to make another announcement.”

Again she held out her hand and I reluctantly took it as she led me back to the garden where the cake had nearly disappeared and I desperately wanted a piece.

Wearing a clean nappy surprisingly put a spring in my step (waddle might be more accurate), and even though many folk kept staring I just apologised to gran (again) and asked if I could please have some cake. She smiled and cut me a slice and put it on a napkin. As I turned to leave she patted my bottom again this time I turned back and smiled. I think she’d forgiven me.


As I wandered around the garden enjoying the cake, a few people smiled, some shook their head as if disappointed, whilst others openly laughed at my bulging groin and a few kids pointed and giggled. I think I was hoping to meet up with Bradley so I had a friendly and perhaps understanding mate to chat with. Unfortunately, he was otherwise engaged with his family and I thought I better find Penny and let her know mum had seen to me.

“Ah there you are... I wondered what had happened to you.” She considered my fresh padding. “Oh... mum?”

“Yer... she said she’d do it.”

“You must be relieved and feel better.”

“Yer, a lot.” I said without thinking.

She nodded and smiled. It was an expression I didn’t immediately understand and told her that mum was expecting gran to make another announcement soon.

“Ah yes... Doctor Solomon,” she said knowingly.

“What do you mean Doctor Solomon?”

“I’ll leave gran to explain but I think we might soon have a new member of the family.”

“What, gran’s pregnant?” I cried incredulously.

She shook her head and smiled condescendingly. “You really are a dummy... that nappy just about sums you up.” 

I looked at her dumbfounded. She knew something I didn’t and when I guessed she ridiculed me for not knowing. I turned and grumpily stormed off feeling stupid for not knowing something I didn’t know, which made no sense but there again - I was only a stupid baby wasn’t I?

I could feel her eyes on my shiny poofy bottom as I tried to leave with some self-respect but knew the thick cushion only gave further proof to my childish status. I wasn’t going to win until mum let me out of this punishment. I began to think that perhaps had dad given me a thorough paddling, the type Uncle Peter had received from grandad, then I wouldn’t have to put up with this torture.

However, when I thought about what uncle had said, he got a paddling as well as the nappy treatment, so perhaps best not push for that. Anyway, I hadn’t seen mum or dad waving a paddle or some such thing around although mum had threatened “...a lot worse”. Perhaps I’ll try and get dad to do just that... if not... I’ll take Uncle Peter’s advice and just leave them to clean up the messiest nappy I can fill. That’ll teach them.

I felt a little better as I made my way back into the garden because I had a plan and no one but I knew what it was. So, I knew something nobody else knew. So suck on that Penny.

Two minutes later and I saw that champagne was being poured out and the birthday celebrations appeared to have gone up a gear. Then gran started to speak.

“First, thank you all again for coming and helping me celebrate my birthday (applause). But, today is another special day because...” Doctor Solomon moved up to stand next to her. “Today, Samuel and I can officially announce our engagement (more applause and whoops) and the wedding is set in eight weeks’ time (more congrats and cheers). So...”

She didn’t get chance to say anything else as Uncle Peter and my mum led the toasts to them both for a future of happiness. So that’s what Penny was talking about? I hadn’t known that announcement was coming but instead wished everyone had toasted my future happiness - I had a couple of months in soggy nappies to look forward to so could have done with it.

And then I felt stupid, of course gran was too old to have a baby... what was I thinking?


My brother really showed himself up at gran’s party. It was such a nice occasion to see everyone there to celebrate with her and then Pink goes and spoils it all. In many ways I don’t think mum had much option but to reveal his protection and the reasons why he was wearing it because, as she explained to me, “He’ll never learn otherwise”.

She became convinced that if she treated him as a baby he’d eventually get the message and start acting with respect and understanding for others. However, not for the first time I wondered if treating him as a baby was the best way to get him to grow up. Not that I voiced this thought, I liked to see my brother in a nappy it seemed to make him more manageable. Also, and I don’t think I’m being selfish here, the longer he was made to wear one the less smell from his bedroom invading mine.

I pointed out to mum that at his age, he probably has no notion of acting his age. She said I never acted up like he does but I pointed out I’m a girl and that automatically makes me more responsible. She nodded but wondered if she should have treated him as a girl instead of a baby... I think that was too much. It was a lot easier getting him into a nappy seeing as he already had to wear one at night, a dress and knickers might have been much more difficult.  However, we both laughed at the very idea, I could see mum was actually thinking about it. Anyway, because nappies were needed as we knew from those night time accidents, it wasn’t that big a step to make sure he was going to be in them both night and day from now on.

The annoying thing was... there were times when I felt really sorry for him and then he’d say something dumb or have an attitude and I’d think – you deserve all you get. Having said that, I’m sure most siblings go through similar sentiments on a regular basis, so, perhaps were weren’t as peculiar as I sometimes thought.


On the drive home the forthcoming marriage between Doctor Solomon and gran was the main topic of conversation. Mum and gran had gone into the arrangements and it appeared it was just going to include immediate family and friends... so not as big an event as the birthday/engagement party. I reckoned that by the wedding day I’d be out of this predicament, even though I was sat in the rear wearing just my nappy and t-shirt. Mum wouldn’t let me have my other clothes back. In fact, the state of my undress wasn’t even mentioned at all and I was left to slip around in the back seat and crinkle my way through the journey.

Once we were through the door mum slipped her hand down the back of my pants and commented that I was still dry. I could have told her had she asked but I suspect they aren’t going to trust me on any level until all this is over. My complaint of “Muuummm” just got me a look so I shut up and let her get on with the inspection.

“Good boy, all dry.”

I started off to my bedroom.

“Where’re you going?”

“Up to my room.”

“But it’s not your bedtime yet silly... come and watch TV for a bit.” There was a false smile to her voice which carried a threat. As I was still worried just what that threat might lead to I immediately went and sat on the couch.

“Now then, let’s see what we can have... ahh yes... this should be okay for you to watch” and turned on the CBeebies.

That’s the channel for really little kids but mum left me to watch it as she went into the kitchen and I noticed, took the remote with her, whilst dad went upstairs. Penny had gone off to visit a friend so I had the living room to myself.

Mum was really making a point but, as I sat there in my soft cushion and slippery pants, I was wondering how many kids filled their nappies whilst watching their favourite programme. Uncle Peter’s recommendation was going to be put into practice. There was a cartoon dog on screen and I sat there trying to force out a nice turd to reward mum for all her ‘attention’.

Knowing that I’d easily crapped in my bed I assumed that forcing one out wouldn’t be that difficult but I was wrong. Though I was giving it some serious thought and strained as much as I dare, something would happen on screen and I’d get distracted. It was stupid. Why would a kid’s programme, which I wasn’t in the least bit interested in, have me changing my focus?

I’d let out a couple of little farts but nothing of any note had escaped. I was getting frustrated with myself but when the show finished I applied more effort. The outcome was epic. The small turd I’d planned turned into a full expulsion and despite me trying to hold the tide back, the rear of my nappy filled rapidly. I was shocked.

When I eventually came to my senses dad was standing in the doorway. He didn’t look sympathetic, nor did he look surprised, he just looked resigned.

“Your mum thought she heard something... I didn’t expect this.” He walked over and checked the bulge pushing out my plastic pants. “Well, thankfully the pants have held everything in and,” he said looking at his watch, “as you have bed in thirty minutes I’ll leave you as you are and get you ready then.”

I was taken aback that not only had dad seen what I’d done but that mum had predicted it and that I’d now have to sit around for some time before I got cleaned up.

“You can watch TV for a while longer,” he said as he pressed the remote and a cartoon channel started. “Off the sofa please... you’re only allowed on the floor whilst your nappy is full. Try not to make any further mess.”

The problem I had was that I was so dazed by the situation I’d created, the fabric in the front was soaking up a flood I’d inadvertently let loose.

“Come on son... off the sofa... there’s a good boy.”

“Sorry dad.”

“It’s ok son, these things happen and, as you mum keeps pointing out, that’s why you’re back in nappies...”

“But, but, but...”

“Don’t worry...” he ruffled my hair, “I’ll soon be back to put you to bed.”

I looked at the clock on the front of the digi-box and it said 6.30. It appeared my bed time was being brought forward to 7.00. I should have been angry at the very idea of being sent to bed at that time but after such a day... I suppose I thought it inevitable.

As I lay on my front looking up at the screen I was alarmed at the way my messy bottom held the gritty crap. It seemed to stick unpleasantly and with even the slightest movement let its grim presence be felt. I closed my eyes for a moment and my mind quickly drifted back to that awful dream I had which led to me messing the bed – that dark pit. That’s what I imagined my mucky bum would be like and didn’t like it at all. Then I wondered why Uncle Peter had said it was a good way to get out of nappies... it seemed, if anything, to prove you needed them.

#### be continued

























Part 4

I have to say I wasn’t completely on-board with my wife’s suggestions. I mean, a lad of eleven back in nappies? I mean, okay, at night when he had no control is fine but during the day... well!

However Pink’s behaviour did seem to be getting worse and although she’d tolerated his antics for some time, and on the whole being quite understanding, this last crappy bed episode seemed to tip her over the edge. That together with Penny’s rant, made me side with them both because I knew something needed to be done.

The truth was I felt guilty. I think I’d also just been letting the ladies take on all the responsibilities and allowing my fatherly duties to slide. I knew he’d started wetting the bed but, as Julia was dealing with it, didn’t get further implicated. Perhaps I should have got myself involved or at least been a bit more aware of what was going on. However, it was Penny’s outburst that pulled me from my apathetic attitude and made me take notice. Of course, Julia had also come to the end of her tether and although I hadn’t noticed, she was wondering what to do with our wayward son. I’d been winging it and now had to step up and be part of the solution... as my darling wife saw it.

In some ways I blamed myself. I should’ve never called him Pink, his name is Thomas, but of course, when everyone else is using that nickname, it just became the norm and I just went along. Recently though, the wet bed (for no reason, or one we couldn’t decipher), the thieving, getting drunk, and his general decline in any responsibility, showed he needed a reminder that he had to change his ways.  However, Julia had decided to develop ideas that her mother had used when she and her brother were growing up.

Julia had told me that when he was around Pink’s age Peter had been a little bugger. He wouldn’t listen, knew everything, answered back and even a spanking from his father didn’t stop him from being a pain to the entire family in one way or another. Finally, after one hell of a spanking from his father, she’d taken away all of Peter’s clothes and only let him wear what she decided and that was basically a nappy and t-shirt.


Rebellion is all very well but, if you don’t stand a chance of winning, it’s a hopeless pursuit. Peter found that sitting around in a wet and messy nappy was not the way to rebel. He thought his mum and dad would capitulate if they had to clean him up but they in turn accepted this was the price they had to pay for their methods.

Conversely, they made a big thing about how nice it was to have their big baby boy back and how much they loved changing his well-used nappy, which only went to prove how much he needed one. So, the reluctance and distaste for that action Peter had hoped for just didn’t happen. Babied and with no independence, making him totally reliant on whatever they decided, the petulant and angry pre-teen took several months to realise (when wearing only a nappy most of the time) that his strategy was a failure.

He wore thick protection night and day for almost six months before he got the message and started to act like his parents thought he should. Well, actually, according to Julia, he got the message after three months but their parents wanted to make sure the message was driven home... so he wore 24/7 for a further three months.

However, when it came to Pink I still had my doubts until I’d just watched him mess his nappy. I’d watched silently for a couple of minutes whilst he strained and squeezed until he’d succeeded. I know Julia had wanted him to use what she’d put him in but I expected a bit of reluctance. Instead I saw for myself he didn’t seem overly fazed at wearing such childish garb and certainly not bothered about filling it.

If this was anything to go by, it seemed Penny had also been right about him wallowing in his pee-smelling bedroom and I was glad I’d supported her in changing him first. I thought it would hammer home the new circumstance - he was reliant on family to look after him as we now realised he wasn’t equipped to look after himself. Well, that’s how I reasoned it after Julia explained her method for his education and punishment.

My wife had been furious because when Pink swore at his grandmother at the party, and heard how horrified the neighbours had been at such language from an eleven year old, she thought it reflected badly on her. So, as a result, she decided, once home, he was going to be in bed by seven, nappied and with instructions he wasn’t to move until one of us got him up for school in the morning.

Apart from when at school, where she couldn’t keep an eye on him, he was to have no unsupervised freedoms and she expected me to back her up.


I was really glad when dad eventually came back and said it was bedtime. Although it was only seven o’clock I hadn’t liked lying around in my mess and, although dreading having to walk with so much hanging in the back of my padding, ambled cautiously upstairs. He took me to the bathroom and pulled down the shiny but tight cover and examined the damage. He emptied the contents in the loo and then gave me a preliminary wipe down before indicating that a thorough shower would be needed.

The relief that shower gave as I cleaned myself up was fantastic. When dad came back he scrutinized everywhere and noticed I had some raw bits that would need attending to. Once he’d dried me off he got me to lie out and picked up a tube of cream.

It was strange because dad said he hadn’t done this since I was a toddler but hoped he remembered how it should be done. I was very self-conscious that he was actually changing me and smearing in cream. Not only that, but my embarrassment left me dumb and flushed throughout the operation.

The thing was, dad’s attitude towards me had changed, he didn’t appear to be on my side like he used to. I was very nervous about everything now and dad checking my nappy just didn’t seem right. However, I’ll give dad his dues, he was very methodical and made sure each red area was thickly coated with anti-rash lotion. It appeared dad didn’t really want to have a conversation either but I suspect mum had told him to explain what each item was for as you would a small child. I just nodded.

As I looked around it appeared that one of them had been up to my room earlier because my games consul and screen had been removed and so had anything I might find to entertain myself. A couple of pre-folded and padded nappies had been left on the dresser complete with plastic pants, creams and powder.  

Once I was tightly pinned into the nappy and the pants fed into place he asked me to choose a t-shirt to sleep in. I didn’t know it at the time but that was the last time I had a choice in what I wore for some weeks.

I chose a large white one which I suppose matched my nappy and pants. I pulled it over my head and dad smoothed it down then checked that all the nappy fabric was inside the plastic. The soft elastic around the leg and waist seemed tight enough to prevent any escape of moisture. I hated the smooth but impressive bulge that now occupied my crotch although my padded bum was not unpleasant... perhaps I was getting used to it?

“OK, look,” dad said with all seriousness, “after your outburst at granny’s...”

“But dad... honestly... I thought it was someone else messing about... I’m really sorry.”

“That may be so, but mum says you showed the family up and that’s why your bedtime has been moved forwards.”

“But it wasn’t my fault.”

“Well son, I’m afraid we’ll have to agree to disagree on that because what you mum says goes... and if I were you I wouldn’t cause any further problems if you want any of this,” he used his hand to indicate my juvenile sleepwear, “to end any time soon.”

“Dad this isn’t...”

“Stop it now Pink. The decisions have been made and your bedtime is seven o’clock until further notice. You’re not to get out of bed for anything until morning when one of us will come to get you ready for school. Do I make myself clear?”

I pulled a face but nodded.

“Good boy. Now, should any of us find you out of bed... for any reason... you’ll be wearing only a nappy to school... understand.”

This was a scary prospect because although I didn’t believe that would happen; I just wasn’t certain enough it wouldn’t. I wanted to get dad to confirm he’d never let things get to such a stage but mum had proved she was making all the rules and he was going along with them. I caught my mouth before I started on about how unfair this was, also I think I’d let the opportunity to ask if a paddling would get me out of this nappy business. He’d said what mum said went so I don’t think I had a choice.

He pulled back the clean dark blue newly laundered duvet, which smelled nice and felt comfy. There was a matching dark blue fitted-sheet over the mattress, although the protector could still be heard rustling as I got in.

“This early bedtime might be just for tonight so... don’t give your mum any reason to change that... stay put.”

I turned on my side because I felt tears rushing to my eyes and I didn’t want him to witness them.

“Night son.”

I could hardly respond because, despite the curtains being drawn, daylight was still flooding my room. Here I was dressed as a two year-old, in bed and told I had to go to sleep. I had nothing around to take my mind off my situation. I mumbled a ‘night’ to dad, but the tears made me feel very sorry for myself.

That dark swirling pit opened up and I slid down, down, down.


Mum had hinted that she planned on marrying her friend and neighbour Doctor Samuel Solomon a couple of weeks earlier but I’d been sworn to secrecy, she wanted to announce it at her birthday party. Since dad died almost six years ago their friendship had grown and in truth, I was surprised it had taken them this long to set a date. I was so pleased that she was sharing this with so many of her friends and family and the party had seemed an ideal platform to make things official. Of course Penny had more or less guessed what was going on and thrilled she might get to see her granny re-married... and hopefully be a bridesmaid.

However, Pink had taken the focus away from mum by swearing in front of so many other people. To say I was angry would have been an understatement, I was furious. You would have thought that wearing thick protection and baby blue shorts he might have got the message to not draw attention to himself but NO... he thought he could do and say what he wanted. Well, that’s why those shorts came off and I made him walk around in just his protection. I half hoped it would drive the message home but also part of me hoped that people saw that I did discipline my kids when they stepped over the line. I’m not sure that my point was made with anyone except mum who thankfully told me she approved of my actions.

Apparently, my nephew Bradley was also wearing padding that day as punishment. Pam had heard about how Peter was treated as a boy and whole-heartedly endorsed such a remedy and brought it into her own armoury of possible punishments. Pam had said that the change in attitude was immediate when Bradley had to wear a nappy. He’s considerate towards his little sister and more attentive to his parent’s wishes. If only I could achieve that with Pink.

Still, I plan to keep him in nappies until I see some improvement... although we still don’t know what causes his night time incontinence, which is still a worrying affair. However, now his sleep arrangement has proved positive; the smell is not as bad and certainly the laundry loads have improved, I see a nappy could help in retraining him a little bit.


I popped into Pinks room before we retired just to check if he was wet or not. The landing light cast a beam into his dark room and there he was, laid on his stomach, white t-shirt halfway up his back, duvet on the floor and the huge pillow of protection absolutely glowing. I went and slipped my finger up one of the legs and he was still dry, so that was a good sign and, as there was no reaction, I thought he must be fast asleep. However, looking down on my boy dressed like that, and for all intents and purposes appearing the little innocent, I went and retrieved his old teddy bear and lay it next to him. If I had one I’d have given him a dummy to suck on but that wasn’t going to happen even though I’d already threatened him it might.

He stirred briefly whilst I was still watching and saw him reach for his bear and pull it in for a hug. A shiver went down my back as memories of him as a toddler came flooding back. Strange how parents can be absolutely furious with their offspring but then, when asleep, just stand and watch them for hours and not think about it because the love simply overwhelms. There was definitely a ‘touching’ moment before I closed his door and returned to my room.


It had taken me ages to drop off - seven o’clock is not a good time to be put to bed unless you’re ill. I’d had a bit of a cry after dad left but I just couldn’t get comfortable. I’d tossed and turned but with the constant rustle from the mattress protector and my thick plastic pants combined to make me angry about the situation. However, I’d had a bad day (even by my standards) and knew, despite my resentment of what had, and was, happening, it was best to not make an issue of it if I didn’t want things to get worse.

So, I wriggled around, eventually getting all hot and bothered and because my nappy area seemed to retain all the heat had to lose the duvet. A couple of times I’d pulled the plastic pants down to lower the temperature, then I’d flap at the thick nappy trying to get some air into it but, even with the window open, there was hardly a breath coming in.

I dare not leave the pants down for long because I knew they’d be checking in at some point and if I was not wearing then school was going to be more than a bit awkward. I don’t remember dropping off but the next thing was me coming too hugging my old teddy bear. I had no idea how long it had been with me but I assumed Penny probably put it in as a laugh. I wasn’t amused, or so I pretended. It’s hard to get annoyed with an inanimate object that has been with you since a baby.

However, I was aware that awful sinking dream had played again as I slept and my nappy was once again soaked.

It was mum who came in and said she’d left the teddy with me because she thought I needed a friend after the awkwardness of the party. I sheepishly nodded and quite unconsciously hugged the bear closer.

She beamed as if that action proved it was just what I needed.

As I got up she needlessly asked if I was wet. I was, very, I’d known since I’d woken up at 4am but just nodded. I wasn’t sure I should mention the recurring nightmare... even though it was making my sleep patterns weird.  I was still hugging the bear but wasn’t sure if it was anxiety, shame or comfort.

She ran her hand over the sheets to check for any leakage, then over my bloated padded bum and added with an enthusiastic smile “Plastic pants are worth their weight in gold... keeping everything dry and the pee contained” She sniffed the air and seemed glad that’s all I’d done. So was I.

“Okay, let’s get you out of these,” she said hauling the pants down and unfastening the pins, “Go to the toilet, take a shower and come back here... I’ll get you ready for school.”


As I was standing there naked I had the weirdest feeling wash over me – it was like I was a little kid again and I daren’t do anything without mum’s say so. I hadn’t felt this way since I was a five year-old so she had to give me a little push to get me moving in the direction of the bathroom. I was still clutching my teddy bear as she reached over and took it from my grasp.

“Don’t forget to do your business sweetie,” she said in a mumsy way, “otherwise, if you fill your nappy you’ll be carrying it around until you get home.”

My stomach dropped because what had been threated looked like it was about to happen, she was going to make me wear a nappy to school. Oddly enough, that seemed to work and I was able to do what I had to do at the loo before I took a quick shower.

After about ten minutes I tentatively found my way back and mum was waiting. She pulled me closer and took control of the towel. I don’t think I’d been rubbed down so effectively for quite some time. My body was dry and felt like it had been rubbed raw as she finished my mop of hair with a flourish.

I saw the pre-folded nappy and plastic pants; she’d also grabbed a tube of something pink.

“Let’s get this rubbed in we don’t want that red bit taking hold when we can prevent it. Ohh, actually, now I look closer... I think we might have to spread something better than this on at night to prevent your pee from making this rash any worse.” She looked meaningfully at the red patches between my thighs. “Mmmm, definitely need some Sudocrem... I’ll get some today.”

Mum... do I have to wear a nappy to school?”

“Well sweetheart you tell me. Did you have a good day yesterday? Where there no hiccups? Have you...”

“But mum... please... what will my friends say?”

“Well baby, let’s see. They might be nice, they might be awful, it’s up to you... there’s always a chance no one will notice.”

She rubbed in the cream and showered me in powder.

Muummm” I pleaded tearfully but to no avail.

The nappy was next but without a booster pad so it wasn’t as thick as the one I wore at night. However, she fitted it tightly and pulled up a pair of tight white plastic pants to cover it.

“There, they’ll keep you from leaking... but I suggest you keep fluid to a minimum... you don’t want to be walking around in a wet nappy for too long.”

“But mum,” I said seizing on what I thought was a get out clause. “What about the rash, won’t it make things worse?”

She smiled. “That’s why I’m advising on not too much liquid today... it could get itchy but it’s up to you.”

As she helped me into a shirt I felt annoyed my brilliant observation hadn’t worked.

“Now we might want to think about trousers.” She seemed to be thinking things over. “Your long trousers are quite tight and will inevitably show off the padding a bit more than these shorts so, mmmm...”

I didn’t want to wear shorts to school. Although one or two kids did when it was nice weather like now, me and my mates had more or less ridiculed those who did as being nothing but dumb pre-schoolers.

“Yes... I think shorts would be better, looser, let a bit of air get to your... erm... legs,” was her conclusion.

“But mum I can’t wear shorts to school... erm... ummm...” I pleaded.

“Nonsense dear, you’ll look very smart.”

The pair of grey school shorts she had me climb into were very robust. They were made ‘tough – for the rough and tumble of the playground’ or so the publicity said when mum bought them... and they were very well made. I’d not worn them for over a year but still fitted well and, although I almost cried having to wear them, they did hide the padding much better than my long trousers would have.

She produced a pair of knee-length socks and I realised she was dressing me like when I was nine. I had no idea where she got the stuff from but supposed it was my own clothes she’d kept.

“There, you see,” she smiled contentedly, “looking smart for school... so much better than the bedraggled way you normally wear your school clothes.”

I looked in the mirror and I hated the little kid I saw staring back. There was a definite tantrum brewing but I held it in thinking this would only add fuel to the situation.


It was a joy to see him clutching the bear. He looked a bit unsure but I could tell he was wet although this time without the added mess. I was relieved.

I sent him off to the bathroom and told him to do his business because a dirty nappy is not something anyone should stay in for too long and, if he filled it at school, I’m not sure he’d cope with what had to be done. Anyway, he was given the opportunity and hoped he’d take it.

When he returned he was still slowly drying himself so I hurried things along and dried him off as I used to do when he was a toddler; vigorously rubbing his body and hair to quickly absorb the damp. As a kid this used to make him laugh but I didn’t get that response this time, although, he didn’t appear to be fighting me, which was good.

I had some cream I wanted to rub into his slightly inflamed skin but realised it needed something a bit more substantial than what I was using. In fact, when I thought about it, I’d need a few extra things from the pharmacy.

As part of his punishment I was toying with whether to make his nappy substantial for school but decided against that. Nevertheless, he was going to be wearing one for school but not as thick as the one he wore at night, though the plastic pants were a bit thicker because I was sure they’d help keep him from any embarrassing dribbles. However, his long trousers were out, they were far too tight to get them over the bulk and they certainly wouldn’t have hidden it even if I could. No, it was back to shorts for the last couple of weeks before school broke up for summer.

I could tell he wasn’t happy... mainly because of his moaning “Muuummm” at me all the way through but I wasn’t going to give in. I had a process and he’d proved he needed this - Hell hadn’t he just wet his nappy overnight again?

Actually, I thought he looked better than he had done for some time... he looked smart. I’ve never sent him off to school a mess but recently he appeared to be a bit more slovenly in the way he carried himself. Wearing shorts, long socks, shirt and tie and well brushed shoes seemed to give him a purpose to going to school that had been missing... although that might be just my thought process because, as I say, he wasn’t overly happy.


Once I had him ready I told him to go and get breakfast whilst I’d tidy up the room. Since he’d been wearing protection at night laundry had been less of a problem. Now it was just a soaked nappy I had to deal with. However, I let his room and bed air out by fully opening the window and, as it was going to be another glorious day, I thought I’d get the wash on early and let it dry in the sun.

Up until this weekend I’d always been subtle with drying Pink’s nappies. I never hung them out for any neighbour to see... his problem was kept to just the family knowing. I’m not sure he noticed how thoughtful we’d all been, if he did he never said anything, but now I thought it time for change.  So, apart from the filthy sheets from the weekend I had quite a few nappies and plastic pants that needed washing and from now on, where I could, they would be out on the line getting a proper airing. I wasn’t going to be bothered with who saw what.

Meanwhile, Pink had had his breakfast and was just about to set off for school with his mate Jimmy from next door.

“Wait there young man.”

Pink looked very shy as he stood at the door with Jimmy waiting by the gate. There was a look of trepidation on his face and I noticed Jimmy was a bit perplexed at what he was seeing.

“I’ll walk you to school make sure you get there okay.”

“But mum

“Don’t worry sweetie it’s no bother. Tell Jimmy he can walk with us if he likes...”

“Mum please don’t... I can...”

“Look sweetheart... from now on I’ll be taking you to school, meeting you at lunchtime to bring you home for a nappy change and taking you back. Won’t that be nice mmm?”

“Mum, stop it pleeease... it’s only a ten minute walk I do it all the time.”

“You used to do it all the time but... I’m not letting my little boy out anywhere without adult supervision.”

“Mum this is ridiculous.”

“Does my little boy want his bottom spanked before school?”

That threat pulled him up and I saw the sulkiness as he dropped his head and tears form.

“Tell Jimmy we’ll be setting off when I’m ready in five minutes and he can walk with us if he likes...”

I could tell he wasn’t sure what to do for the best but he eventually moved down to the gate and after a quick chat, in which Jimmy wandered off on his own, he returned and stood in the doorway waiting for me.

A few minutes later and I was ready.

With his backpack on and wearing those little shorts, I thought he looked like he had at his first day of school all those years back.

“Wait mister.” I held out my hand for him to take.”

“Muummm, you’ve made your point, look, I’m sorry...”

“Just carry on with this attitude young man and you’ll wish you hadn’t.” I pulled him to face me so he was in no doubt I meant business. “Your time, appearance and attitude are governed by your family. Any time you fall below what is expected... your punishment will increase. So, if you want to be out of wearing a nappy before you start high school next term you’d better get your act together and start living by your new rules.”

There were tears in his eyes and I knew that any more from me and the flood-gate would open but I hadn’t finished.

“So, hold my hand please because I’m taking my little boy, who doesn’t know right from wrong, to school and if he doesn’t do as his mummy says... the penalty will increase.  Are you hearing me?”

He looked completely crestfallen but, with tears hanging at the corner of his eyes, nodded.

“Good, now let’s get going we don’t want to be late.”

Actually we had plenty of time but I didn’t want to be hanging around school I had some serious shopping to do before I started work.


The walk with mum to school was horrendous I just couldn’t stop sobbing, and with mum holding my hand, I must have looked the part of a newbie starting his first school. I got plenty of strange looks but none more so than from Jimmy when I eventually arrived.

“What the hell’s going on dude?”

“I’m being punished for getting drunk and stealing booze on Saturday.”

“Yer, I’ve been grounded for two weeks... can you believe it and I’ve got to babysit Kevin (his four year-old brother) and take him wherever he wants to go. I think mum and dad have lost it I really do.”

I thought how lucky he was but I didn’t want to play Top Trumps or tell him just what else my punishment entailed. I wanted to keep the nappies a secret for as long as I could, even from my best mate. I hadn’t told anyone about my nightly wetting and I didn’t want to start now if I could help it. I especially didn’t want to explain whatever we drank or ate made me crap the bed.

Without my phone I’d not been able to speak with Paggs or Patrick and asked Jimmy if he’d heard from them.

“Paggs said he’d been grounded for a week... apparently, like me, he threw up all over the place as soon as he got home but his mum and dad seemed a bit more understanding than mine.”

“Lucky sod.”

“Yer but when I phoned Patrick it was his mum who answered and she said he wouldn’t be seeing anyone for some time...”

“But he’s coming to school right?”

“I haven’t seen him.”

“Have you seen Paggs?”

“Not yet but he’s always late even though he lives closest to this place.”

We both sort of grinned and shrugged... that was typical Paggs.


Meanwhile, the nice hot weather had made it so that a few other boys wore shorts to school so I didn’t feel that odd, although a few of my friends past uncomplimentary comments, which ridiculed me along with all the younger kids still in shorts. I just had to put up with it.

During lessons everything was going okay, I even got a few appreciative nods from the female teachers, which was a bonus. I can’t explain it too well but I did feel different. It was like, now I was dressed differently I was acting differently. I was constantly aware of my shorts slipping around my plastic pants and the nappy hugging my groin so I was sitting and moving around differently.

I saw Paggs briefly but he’s in a different class from us so didn’t get to speak. We didn’t see Patrick but Jimmy said he’d call him at lunchtime.

The problem I had was by 11.30 I was busting but desperate not to wet in class. However, it occurred to me that I was being stupid. I had the very thing to allow me to pee in private when and where I wanted. I also knew that when mum came at lunchtime she’d be very suspicious if I wasn’t soaked. So, as I sat in the second period of maths leading up to lunchtime, I let loose. Although I’d fought the very idea of wetting on purpose, now I had, there was a feeling of secret elation because nobody else knew.

The warmth that surrounded me for a few moments was quite pleasant but after about fifteen minutes I wanted to get home and changed as soon as possible. Once the lesson was over Jimmy asked if I was having lunch up on the playing field so I had to think quickly to say mum needed me to get home to help her with something. I was being as vague as possible.

Mum met me at the school gates and held out her hand again. Despite there being plenty of kids around I think I managed to conceal this childish action pretty well.


“Oi Paggs, you eating lunch today?” I shouted across the corridor when I saw my mate.

“Sure, shall we go up to the playing fields?”

“Sounds good.”

We walked the 100 or so yards from the school’s main entrance, along the road and into the large area that was the sports ground. There are two football pitches, a running track surrounding the field for javelin, shot, high jump and long jump and the shower block and changing rooms at the far side of the ground. Sports facility-wise we were pretty well catered for thanks to an ancient endowment by a former pupil.

As we walked we talked.

“Have you come round yet?”

To be honest Paggs still looked pretty wasted but I thought I’d come round fairly well.

“Just about but I was in a pretty shit state... mum went mad.” I honestly replied.

Paggs seemed to want to say something but wasn’t sure if he should.

“Yer, I was shit-faced and had a messy... Christ... well I, er, I crapped myself all day Sunday.”

“I think the burgers and bangers were off... though... shit... the booze was shit as well.”

“Yer, the whole experience was shit... I hated the entire thing...”

“Pink’s in deep trouble, his mum and dad have thrown the book at him... I think he’s grounded for a couple of months...”


Paggs nodded as we unwrapped our sandwiches, although, I don’t think either of us was feeling particularly hungry thinking about the stuff we’d thrown up over the weekend.

We were silent for a while so I thought I’d tell him what my parents had decided was my penalty.

“Mum was pretty disgusted at the mess I made... she’s grounded me and is making me look after my little brother and babysit him... like... forever.”

Paggs looked guiltily up at me.

“I shit the bed so mum and dad made me wear a nappy all day Sunday... and then...”

“Oh Christ, I thought mine was bad...”

“That’s not all...”

I sat wondering what else was to come. The idea of being forced to wear a nappy seemed a pretty strange, intense and criminal thing to do... to anyone.

“Oh nothing... it’s just awkward that’s all.”

I felt there was more to his story but was reluctant to tell me anything further.


The walk home wasn’t all that bad because we didn’t pass many people on the way. However, I was thankful that mum didn’t stop to chat with one of our neighbours who called from her garden. Mum just politely told her she was in a hurry and they’d catch up later. The neighbour seemed happy about that.

My wet nappy was beginning to feel uncomfortable under the plastic pants and strangely I was hoping for a quick change into something clean, dry and comfy. I knew mum wouldn’t take long because she had to get off to her part-time job pretty soon so, anticipated a hurried wipe down, a flurry of powder and speedy sandwich and then straight back to school. I wasn’t wrong.

Mum had been shopping after she’d left me at the school gates that morning and had prepared a sandwich to save time. She’d also laid out all the stuff she’d need for the anticipated ‘quick change’. There was a pile of other bits and bobs on a chair in my bedroom I didn’t get to inspect but she said I’d find out about after school. That didn’t sound too promising.

Once I was dry and changed she guided me back to the kitchen to grab my food, have a drink and then she’d accompany me back to school before going off to work. We did chat but it was all small talk until I looked out the window and saw a line of nappies and plastic pants drying in the garden.

“Muuummm,” she’d never put my night time nappies out to dry she’d always dried them in the house to stop any embarrassment and neighbour’s finding out. “What... you can’t... mum pleeeease...”

“Look love, you’re going to be in nappies for quite some time so it’s silly pretending otherwise.”

“But the neighbours will see.” I snivelled.

My emotions were filling up and I felt hot and uncomfortable looking at mum who seemed not to be affected by my plea.

“Well if they do, they do. Anyway, you mustn’t worry about such things. As I was hanging all this out I spoke to Jimmy’s parents about what you boys got up to and why you’re back in nappies... I think Jimmy is maybe in for a surprise when he gets home.”

“But mum... you said... you promised... you... you...”

Actually, she’d never promised anything.

“Look love... you’re wearing nappies now and washed nappies are best dried out in a nice fresh breeze and sunshine like now.” She was speaking to me in a reasonable way but it wasn’t what I wanted to hear, “so, it’s only sensible to get them out there. Don’t worry... you’ll get used to it... and you’ll feel the benefit.”

Mum was not sympathetic to my emotions, which angered me even more. What benefit? How could I get used to it? But my appetite was lost and in a temper threw the half-eaten sandwich in the bin.

“Right,” she said emphatically, “You just can’t stop being an irritable little kid can you?”

She grabbed my hand and all but dragged me back to school.

“Penny will come and pick you up at 3.30 so don’t go anywhere. No after school activities, no visiting friends, straight home with your sister and if she has any complaints... well... I just wouldn’t want to be you when I get home.”

I was only partly listening because I was still fuming over the washing flapping on the line for all to see. I thought mum had let me down. I hadn’t appreciated how, over the last few weeks and my night time ‘accidents’, she’d shielded me by not hanging out wet sheets and nappies.

I should have known things would change and that I wouldn’t be consulted on any of these changes but I still got into a state. I knew she wouldn’t be joking and I’d just shown I was a bad-tempered little brat, so nervously I entered the school yard again aware of the padding under my shorts. However, because it was dry and surprisingly comfy I felt better so didn’t have the initial worry I’d had that morning.

#### be continued












Part 5

“Hi Patrick, didn’t see you today...”

Oh, hi Paggs, erm...”

“Why are you whispering?”

“I’m not supposed to be talking to you... or anyone for that matter...”

“Because of Saturday?”

“Uh huh...”

“But why aren’t you in school?”

“I’m in Cheltenham.”

“What the hell are you doing there? That’s like a hundred miles away...”

“Yer, mother’s sent me to stay with my Aunt Bea her sister... she’s been in a right state... I’d never seen her so mad.”

“But why Cheltenham?”

“I have two younger cousins here... Rod and Todd (laughs) well that’s what I call them though they’re actually William and Howard who are kept on a very tight leash. So, mother thinks I’d benefit from a period of time under Aunt Bea’s and Uncle Jason’s disciplinarian code.”

“What do you mean?”

“They’re like Ned Flanders, but without the personality. They’re members of a very strict religious sect so...”

“God, your mum must’ve been really pissed.”

“Look, I can’t really talk but mother is furious with you all... and your parents... she thinks they must have sanctioned what happened and I’d been coerced.”

“That’s stupid.”

“Don’t let her hear you say that... she’s already gunning for explanations. Meanwhile, I’m... I think Aunty Bea is coming. I’ll try to ring you late....”

“Patrick... who is that on the phone?”

“Just a friend.”

“Is it one of those boys?”

“Ermm, yes.”

“Well, you’ better give me the phone NOW.”


It’s strange how he’s the only one of the group who calls his mum, mother... but then his parents are a bit up themselves.

Oh, I hope I haven’t got Pat into trouble. I could hear the anxiety in his voice during that exchange. I hate to think what’s happening to him now... she sounded pretty irritated.


I don’t think any of us really enjoyed Saturday night. I mean, I’ve drunk cider before and tasted beer but all that other stuff was terrible. But, when there’s a gang, and you’re all daring each other to do it, you’re not going to say no. I wish we had because the mess I made when I got home was disastrous.

To begin with mother was all very sympathetic because she thought I was ill, but once she realised it was self-inflicted her mood changed dramatically. The fact that I ended up throwing up all over her as she tried to comfort me was the thing I think made it worse. Somehow she realised, or just assumed, that I’d stolen some money from her purse to buy stuff... but... by admitting my failings I made things worse.

My pleading for forgiveness was ignored and she insisted that on Sunday father drive me to her sister’s in Cheltenham.

“You need some proper discipline young man... you’re out of control and those boys and their ghastly families are leading you down the wrong path.”

She carried on venting and blaming everyone and everything but I was only half listening I’d heard her go on about my friends before.

“So, I’ve spoken to your Aunty Beatrice and agreed that from now, and all through the summer break from school... you’ll be learning to be a model citizen like her boys. Both she and your Uncle Jason will have complete control over everything - what you do, what you eat, what you wear and who you meet... everything.”

This was a shock. I wanted to complain about the injustice of it but I was in tears at the prospect because I hate that side of our family. I laughingly refer to them as ‘The Flanders’s, but they don’t get the reference, which is funny if it wasn’t that they’re so depressing... and self-righteous. They think, because they’re members of this weird cult, they’re better than everyone else and that everyone one else is wrong and they’re way is ‘the only way’. I always feel sorry for ‘Rod and Todd’ because they’re like robots, even though only six and seven don’t have a single thought in their heads that’s their own.

The idea of spending even a day in such company is scary but as both mother and father agreed this will happen there’s no getting out of it. They’ve even threatened that ‘until there’s a vast improvement’ I won’t be welcome back. I spent the entire drive down crying and begging father to reconsider but he was as angry with me as mother.

He said I’d let everyone down but in truth, they are both snobs, and there’s been many times both of them look down on every other neighbour so I’m not surprised they are blaming everyone but themselves for my actions. However, when Jimmy came up with the idea... I just wanted to have a bit of fun, because there’s precious little in our house. But I have to admit, I got it wrong and the entire party in the woods was a terrible mistake.

However, this was serious and through my tears I was begging father to give me a date I could return but he remained silent on the matter. I hoped, after a week or less, once they thought I’d been taught a lesson, they would relent and I could return to school and my friends... we had lots of stuff planned for the coming summer break.


As soon as I was dropped off Aunt Bea was on my case. I wasn’t allowed to call her Aunt Bea it had to be Aunty Beatrice and Uncle Jason and all answers, to any question had to begin with ‘Please’. I’d seen both William and Howard not dare move without the say so of either parent. They don’t even dare start eating until after grace is said and a nod from them.

The most annoying thing is that she’d stolen my phone. I tried to reason with her. I even threatened her with the police but she just gave me one of her demented smiles and walked away making a point of turning the thing off.

Then we went upstairs with my rucksack which had some clothes mother had packed. She emptied them out on one of the beds and sneered. Checking through the few items I’d brought she didn’t like much and sort of tutted but with a deal of undisguised disgust. She pulled that disapproving face again and let out a sound like “Yuurrgghh” but I could have been wrong. It certainly wasn’t human but there again, nor is she.

I hate her.

Apparently, I’m going to be sharing the same room as the boys and Aunty Beatrice says I’ll be treated exactly the same as they are... even though they’re four and five years my junior. Their room smells like it’s seen a lot of bed-wetting. I don’t like it at all... and I’m not sure about the childish stuff they sleep in. With piles of nappies and creams on the chest of drawers it looks more like something for two year-olds.

I also don’t like the thought of not being able to chat with Pink, Paggs or Jimmy for the summer hols but the thought of rebelling is with me. I’m eleven and determined that these adults won’t drag me down. I’ll still maintain my independence I can assure you of that.

Aunty Beatrice has just informed me that as I’m new and haven’t been cleansed (whatever that means) I’ll be having the first of many enemas, which I assume is something to do with the bible. They can give me the entire book to read but I don’t intend to become anything like them.


At six o’clock Aunty Beatrice said it was time for my enema and that I should follow her upstairs. I saw the look of dismay cross the boy’s faces but they said nothing. Once in the bathroom she told me to strip. Ah, I thought, this is the cleansing bit... she needs me to take a shower before bible lessons. These religious nutters are always dipping each other in water for some reason. Although I saw it as unnecessary it didn’t seem a terrible request and as I’d be having a shower later I just thought it brought things forward a bit.

I hadn’t been naked in front of mother or father for a few years now so I was a bit embarrassed that she stood watching throughout the entire procedure. I asked for some privacy but she just laughed and said that naughty boys don’t get any privacy and, if I didn’t want to meet Mr Badger, I’d better get stripped quickly.

I wondered if this Mr Badger was another childish thing that William and Howard had to put up with and I was full of empathy with them for having such dumb parents. I was down to my underpants when I stalled and once again asked for some privacy. She reached behind the door and their on a hook was a strip of black and white leather about three inches wide and a foot in length.

I was taken by surprise as she effortlessly bent me over the bath and delivered three hefty thwacks to my rear end. That brought me up quick and I tried to fight back but I was in pain and Aunty Beatrice was a lot stronger than she looked. I soon found my underpants down and several more whacks that reduced me to a bawling infant.

I tried to say sorry, beg for forgiveness, scream for my mother and promised all manner of things but the strap kept making heavy contact with my naked bottom. Once she’d finished I was in a right state. I was shaking; I’d never been punished like that before. Normally at home it’s just being grounded or allowance held back. This was an entirely new experience and one I was simply not ready for.

Once I was upright she spoke to my crimson and tear-stained face.

“Mr Badger here is to make sure all naughty boys comply with any and all instructions given by an adult. There will be no ifs, buts or maybe’s, there is only “Yes” and that is acted on immediately. The word of the Lord and unwavering discipline are the tenets of making a good and obedient member of our community. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”

I couldn’t get my breath I was hurting so badly... my bottom felt like it was on fire and she’d already forbidden me from rubbing it. I just stood in front of her battered, bruised and shaking in terror.

Despite not wanting to submit to anything, my burning bum meant I was very compliant so had to nod to let her know I understood her statement.

How could my parents send me to this horrible place - I was scared?


I found out minutes after the spanking just what an enema was... and it had nothing to do with the bible.  Soapy water was inserted in my bottom and I had to hold it there for ages as “It cleaned out some of the badness I was no doubt hanging on to.” She did it three times before she was satisfied and every time I looked in the least bit defiant she waved Mr Badger and let me sample again “The lesson he brings to naughty boys’ backsides.”

Once showered and dried off she led me back to the bedroom where William, the youngest, was being got ready for bed. His father pinned him into a thick nappy and a pair of baby print yellow plastic pants were pulled up to cover it. He is only six so I suppose may still wet the bed so thought no more about it. A long matching yellow nightshirt was then pulled over his head and he kissed and thanked his father as he settled down under the covers. It was only just after seven but no doubt little boys need their sleep.

Howard followed and exactly the same thing happened, except he had a green pair of plastic pants and matching night shirt. Again, he’s only seven so I suppose there’s a chance he also still wets the bed and, judging by the permanent odour of the room, they both probably did.

My turn came and I was surprised to be asked to lie out on the plastic changing mat. I shook my head... I wasn’t an incontinent child.

“Please go and get Mr Badger,” Aunty said to her husband. “I can see it’s going to get used quite a lot tonight if this naughty little boy thinks we’ll put up with any insolence.”

I suddenly realised they meant business but even though I expressed my remorse, the strap, this time laid on by my uncle, made contact. I didn’t see the reaction of the boys who witnessed this attack, because my vision blurred with tears and I was bawling like a baby. Once he’d finished, and I had no fight left in me, he placed me in exactly the same style of nappy and pulled up a pair of clear plastic pants to act as cover.

“Sorry Patrick,” He said as if nothing that had happened in the last few minutes had taken place, his tone understanding, reasonable and almost apologetic. “But as yet we don’t have nightwear that will fit so, for the moment, we’ll just leave you as you are to get used to your night time protection.”

These two people were psychopaths... what were my parents thinking?

He encouraged William to budge up and make room for me so I ended up sharing a bed with the youngest member of the family. I think they were making a point that from now on... I was the youngest member of the family.

“Patrick, have you said your prayers?” Aunty asked in a quiet voice.

“No, erm, please, erm, um, I don’t know any.”

“No wonder that sister of mine wants you to stay with us, to teach you about God’s love and how important it is to thank Him for his favours and grace.”

I looked disbelievingly at this psycho but I didn’t want to meet Mr Badger again so said nothing.

“Okay boys, let’s teach your cousin how to pray shall we?”

The boys seemed pleased to be involved in something they could do and I couldn’t. They shuffled onto their knees, put their hands together and closed their eyes.

“William, do you want to start?”

“Please Mummy, thank you... Dear Heavenly Father...”

“Now you repeat Patrick.”

This was stupid and pointless but I saw them waiting and I was in no position to make a stand at that moment. My bum was still ablaze from the strap so I was feeling a bit delicate and vulnerable. Also, the weight of the nappy and its plastic covering made me feel uncomfortable and juvenile. My rebellion would have to begin in the morning.

“Dear, erm, Heavenly Father...”

“Hands together Patrick... on your knees like William and Howard please.”

I did as instructed. Even wrapped in thick fabric each movement made me aware of my blistered bottom and began again.

“Dear Heavenly Father...”

I wasn’t sure if I could take another day never mind a couple of weeks of this type of treatment.


Before I had to meet Penny at the gate Paggs told me and Jimmy the quick afternoon chat he’d had with Patrick and we were all disgusted at the way his parents had treated him. I mean sending him the Cheltenham was bad enough but I’d heard him speak of the ‘Flanderses’ and wouldn’t have wished their holier-than-thou ways on anyone.

Patrick was from a different background to the rest of us and when the family moved to our area three years ago told us what a relief it was to have other kids to play with who were ‘normal’. His previous education had been at a private prep school, which he hated, so when they moved here somehow he’d managed to convince his parents that he should go to the nearby school... the one we were all at now. His parents had always been doubtful about the place but the fact that he excelled in class made it difficult for them to complain.

However, our Saturday night party was having consequences none of us could have foreseen but it was beginning to look like my wearing nappies everyday was not the worst that could happen.

Apart from that news of where Patrick was the rest of the day passed off without incident, or, as far as I was concerned, anyone noticing I was wearing a nappy. Right on 3.30 Penny arrived at the gates to make sure I went directly home. She asked if I was wet, and although I was, I didn’t want to it. However, she saw my reluctance and without warning slipped her hand up the leg of my shorts and pulled at the plastic pants. She knew immediately I’d lied and wasn’t happy.

“You know you’re not supposed to wear a wet nappy for too long... you’ll get a rash you idiot.”

Thankfully, all this was said in a low voice so I don’t think anyone else heard. Even so, I was distraught that any mention had been made and hurried off down the street as quickly as I could.

Penny saw Jimmy hanging about and invited him back to our place to wait for his mum to come home, which he nonchalantly agreed to. He rushed to catch us up but I was dreading getting home and Penny saying anything about changing my nappy.

That wasn’t a problem because the first thing he noticed was the washing hanging out on the line and although the nappies just looked like squares of cloth, the plastic pants were unmistakable... so together?

He looked at me and I went scarlet. He looked across at Penny and she just said that I’d had one or two problems recently but was sure...

“I’m being punished for Saturday night,” I bleated out unable to pretend any further. I also didn’t want him to know that I’d been wetting the bed for some weeks now - he didn’t need to know that. “Mum and dad are making me wear a nappy 24/7 for... ermmmm... the things I’ve said and done.”

I didn’t want to explain how I’d wet and shit the bed... I hoped that would be enough reason.


I was shaking with emotion.

“Are you wearing one now?” He asked in a strange way as if he could hardly believe it.

I nodded.

He looked out at the washing line and took stock.

“And this only happened from yesterday?”

I was on the verge of tears. This isn’t going well and he’s not stupid, he’ll be able to tot up the number of nappies and pairs of pants hung out and draw his own conclusions.

“That really sucks mate.”

“Would you like a drink whilst you wait Jimmy?” My sister said breaking the atmosphere.

“Yes please Penny.” He said in a sort of fawning way. I didn’t understand it but he’d always had a thing about my sister and I’m sure, had she asked, he would do anything for her. Mad.

She grabbed him a Coke from the fridge and then excused herself and me for a moment.

“I need to get him changed.” She delivered this line in such a loving way I hardly noticed that now my best friend knew I was wet.

Two seconds later, when it sunk in, I ran up the stairs in panic.


Penny followed and found me sprawled out on my bed bawling like a baby.

“Look Pink,” she tried to calm me down, “he’s your best friend and bound to find out sooner or later... the hard part’s over.... you don’t have to keep it a secret.”

I sniffled into my pillow. She was correct but I still didn’t like the idea that Jimmy now knew, there was no way I could undo the fact he KNEW.

“C’mon, let’s get you changed. It can’t be nice having that wet material surrounding your bits and bobs.”

She was understanding and sticking to mum’s instructions but I was still resentful. I wanted to shout and tell her to bugger off, to leave me alone, to stop babying me but I knew if I did, and she told mum or dad, then this punishment would last a lot longer than two months. It might get a lot worse and I had to get used to the fact that Penny was in charge and I had to do as she said.

She tugged at my shorts.

“You’re just going to have to get used to all this Pink because if you don’t it will be torture for you.”

“It’s already torture for me,” I whined.

“I know I know but... it’s the way things are going to be for a while and the sooner you accept it... the less of a trial it’ll be. And I’m sure Jimmy isn’t going to be anything but a friend on this... erm... I’m sure.”

I could tell from her voice she was less than sure but I had to agree that I didn’t have much option and the sooner I let her get on with changing me the better. She was right the soaked nappy was beginning to annoy me.


As she’d done it a few times now the change didn’t take too long, especially as mum had left some nappies and shiny new white plastic pants ready on the dresser. I reached for my shorts to put over them but Penny said that wasn’t allowed. From now on, whilst in the house, I was only allowed to wear a nappy with plastic pants... definitely nothing covering them.  

Standing in my bedroom dressed like a toddler made me feel helpless. I had no power, no say and my sister was in complete control. I begged her to let me put some shorts on until mum came home but she was adamant that the instructions were – no pants.

“Look Pink, I know this is awkward but the more fuss you make, the worse it’ll be. Jimmy’s going to see you wearing this quite a bit over the next few weeks so, best to get it over with and then the embarrassment’s done.”

Again I wanted to scream and shout but that’s got me nowhere so far and at the back of my mind mum’s words about acting more my age and being responsible were echoing around. I didn’t want to give her more ammunition so reluctantly and with my anxiety levels hitting the roof, I followed Penny back down stairs.

Jimmy had turned on the TV and was sat watching some nature programme where a huge anaconda was stalking a caiman so he hardly noticed my entrance as I rustled in and sat down next to him.

I think he was just being polite not looking but I wanted to get this over with.

“So,” I announced possibly too loudly, “this is what I have to wear now 24/7 when at home.”

He looked and smiled, and giggled and then laughed out loud.

“Jeez Pink, you look... you look...” he could hardly stop his laughter. “Weird... and fantastic.”


I was shocked by this last word.

“Well why are you laughing?” I didn’t know whether his hysterics were real or forced but I was none too happy. Although in truth I probably would have reacted the same if this situation had been reversed. 

“Well,” he grinned, “they suit you... you big baby...” and immediately he rolled on top of me and we ended up having a play-fight. This was something we hadn’t done for quite some time but we ended up both giggling as we wrestled each other to the ground.

I saw Penny just shrug her shoulders as if she’d never understand boys and disappeared off into the kitchen to start preparing our evening meal before mum and dad got home.

“Are you going to be eating with us Jimmy?” She shouted from the kitchen.

“No. No thanks Penny...” we stopped mid wrestle, “mum’s expecting me back... thanks for the offer though.”

Yep, he really was besotted with my sister... so jumped on him and we continued to wrestle each other. Meanwhile, I noticed that the anaconda on TV had managed to swallow a great deal of the baby caiman, which still had its jaws hanging out of the snake’s mouth.

After a few more rolls around our bout came to an end and he wanted to ask questions. He rubbed the front of my bulge.

“Well, that must make you proud... making you look like you’ve got a huge package.”

He was joking of course but it made talking about it easier.

“I can’t feel my dick at all and mum says I’ve got to use the nappy so I have to wet it...”

“Bloody hell,” he was obviously thinking. “Erm, can I ask, err, what does that feel like?”

“Wet you dozy twat, what do you think? It’s sort of warm to begin with but then becomes cold and yukky.”

“Look, I don’t think I’m telling any secrets but Paggs was put into a nappy all day Sunday because he shit the bed and messed...”

Because I’d done the same I went silent and looked guiltily at my feet.

“So,” Jimmy continued, “You’re definitely not alone, although, I think, erm, perhaps Paggs has something else going on which he’s worried about.”

“Oh what?” I queried hoping to lessen my guilt.

“I don’t know he wouldn’t say but perhaps, once he knows what you’re going through he might feel more like telling us.”

“I don’t want Paggs to know about this.” I said horrified pointing to my slippery plastic pants.”

I wonder has your mum talked to Paggs’s mum?”

“Not that I know of, though she might have.”

“It just seems a strange thing to do to guys our age don’t you think... nappies?”

I hadn’t thought about it but as I already wore them at night...

Then I remembered what mum said at lunchtime when she’d pegged the stuff out that morning.

“Uuuummm, I hate to say it but, she has spoken to yours... this morning... explaining about those.” I pointed to my line of shame.

“Oh Christ, I hope she doesn’t get any ideas.... I’m already supposed to babysit Kevin and chaperone him when he visits friends... I thought I was being badly treated but...”

“You might be yet.” I added evilly.

Jimmy thought for a while. Although I was just winding him up he obviously had things going through his mind.


Like Patrick, Jimmy was one of the clever ones of our small group. Me and Paggs were not in the same league as those two. Still, I wondered if his mum would resort to making him wear a nappy or did she think she’d done enough? Anyway, he had a younger brother who was still in nappies so I couldn’t see her wanting more work on that front.

“Look, we’re all friends, we did this thing together... so we should be there to support each other...” He was gazing at my plastic bulge as he said this.

I let his words sink in and suddenly a weight sort of lifted off my shoulders. Of course Jimmy was correct – having friends who knew would make all this bearable... that is... if I can get my parents to relent on the grounding issue. I still had that and of course, as of last night, my bedtime was 7 o’clock.

If I wanted things to change then I knew it would have to be me that changed. So, I’d better start being compliant and not complain if I wanted any adjustment to my current punishment.

Jimmy looked at his watch.

“Ooops, getting late so I’ll just pop home and see if anything else has changed... I’ll call you later and let you know.”

“Mum’s confiscated my phone so... why don’t you come round after tea and let me know what you know.”

“6.30 sound okay?”

“Oh yer, that’s another thing, I messed up even more at granny’s party yesterday so I have a new bedtime of 7.00.”

I could see him swallow hard but he said no more.

With a quick grope of my bulging pants accompanied by a friendly smile he let himself out.


... to be continued














Part 6

When I got home mum had just got in from work and was unpacking her bags in the kitchen.

“James, James... can you come in here please?”

“Yer, what?” I knew I was in trouble because she called me James and not Jimmy.

Yer, what?” she mimicked.

She looked as if she was appraising me and then launched into what could only be described as an assault on my nature.

“Your attitude toward the family is unacceptable. Your room is constantly untidy and you don’t help around the house. So, from today there are going to be a few changes.”

“You’ve got me babysitting Kevin isn’t that enough?” I argued resentfully.

“Oh, believe me, he’s going to be the best bit of what’s going to happen to you young man... starting with... after this atrocious weekend...”

She was obviously seething about something so took a deep breath.

“Do you know I’ve had Patrick’s mother in the shop giving me grief, telling me what an awful, corrupt and thoughtless son I have?”

I tried to interrupt to tell her she’s a stuck-up bitch but she talked over me.

“I don’t want to hear it James, the shop was full and she didn’t voice her disgust at you leading her son astray in hushed tones. I was so embarrassed and it’s you that has caused it.”

“I didn’t come up with the idea for Saturday night and I didn’t lead Pat astray... bloody h...”

“Well who did then? You took the bottles of spirit... and you arrived home in a disgusting state. Your room still smells from whatever it was you threw-up in there... so don’t you dare tell me you weren’t to blame.”

I was silent because once mum is in a bad mood its best not to speak. Anyway, it was hard to defend myself when it was true. I was thinking how to deflect this criticism but mum’s stance was not something I was used to.

“Pink’s mum has grounded him for two months. Paulo’s (Paulo Paganini is Paggs’s real name) mum has written the riot act and I’ve no idea what Patrick’s punishment is but, judging how ashamed his mother is...  I wouldn’t like to be him.”

“He’s been sent to an aunt’s down in Cheltenham.” I mumbled.

I saw her taking this information in and grimaced.

“The religious weirdo I’ve heard him talk about?”


“Stop saying yer all the time... it’s yes... try to speak properly at least.”

She took in what I said about Cheltenham and I saw a strange expression appear on her face. It was as if something had clicked between her and that piece of information. Perhaps it was something Pat’s mother had said in her tirade.

“Anyway, you’re my responsibility and from today until you start back at senior school you’re grounded.

“But that’s the entire summer holiday. That’s not fair... and it isn’t going to happen.” I said cockily but I wasn’t sure.

“I’ll tell you what’s not fair, having your friend’s mother criticising my parenting skills.”

She said the word mother in a strange way as if she had nothing but contempt for her but I could see she wasn’t going to let me off.

“So you’re grounded and Kevin is going to be your complete responsibility. You’ll change his nappy first thing in the morning, you’ll get him washed and dressed and when you’re home from school you’ll keep him happy and occupied.”

“I’m not going to spend my entire time with a four year-old...”

“I don’t know why you’re objecting he’ll have to spend the time with you... and you... according to Patrick’s lovely mother are a ‘scourge on the school system’. I don’t know where she got that idea from but everyone in the shop now thinks I have a delinquent son. That’s not going to be the case... you are going to be the politest, most caring boy in the country and that starts with your little brother.”

I was quite furious that mum listened to that stupid bloody woman and I could feel my face turning red with anger.

“Why did you listen to that bitch?” I said with a sneer.

“Right, you can cut that type of language out right now... you’re not impressing anyone and it does seem to be making her point.”

I was furious so turned to go up to my room before I lost it.

“If you’re going upstairs you might want to take the air-freshener... I’ve not touched your room so you’ll be responsible for keeping it aired, smelling fresh and above all else... tidy.”

I didn’t know what to say. My head was full of things but nothing would come out - or at least form into a sentence. I stomped upstairs angrily thinking. I’d only suggested the party because I’d ‘obtained’ several bottles. Everyone thought it was a great idea and did their bit. However, Pat’s mother had done a right job on my character but as mum was seething I wasn’t sure of my position, mum angry and me being angry is an explosive combination.

“I’ll be up in a few minutes and expect to see your bed made, and the room tidy.” She shouted up the stairs. “I’d hurry up because the longer you hang about... the worse it’s going to be for you.”


Up in my room and I could see mum had a point even if I didn’t really want to deal with it. However, what was going through my head was, what did she mean - ‘the worse it’s going to be for you’?

Mum doesn’t threaten, come to think of it nor does dad so what was going on? I have to admit I was worried by this unforeseen reaction. With both Paggs and Pink in nappies this threat was quite worrying so thought I’d better get my shit together. I knew mum was fuming, as yet I didn’t know if dad felt the same, although he’d been none too pleased Saturday night. The thought of things ‘getting worse’ had me worried because, although I wasn’t sure which direction that would take, the options were a little scary.

My bed was a mess. I’d had a bit of a restless night, I think I was still coming round from the night before but thankfully, although my room still smelled a bit of vomit, all that had been wiped up on Sunday... by mum.

I stripped out of my school clothes intent on changing into something a bit more casual when Kevin popped his head around the door and came charging in. He was his usual lively self and launched his small body at me as I was stepping out of my trousers. Standing on one leg and with my trousers half off, the little sod knocked me to the floor and demanded I play with him.

Now, there are times when I don’t mind playing silly games with my little brother but after the ear full I’d just had I wasn’t in the mood. However, with him jumping up and down and ineffectually attempting to pull me to his room, and with my pants half on and half off, I shouted at him to ‘piss off’.

He looked at me as if I’d just given him a clout and burst into tears. Of course, mum was there and saw what happened. Kevin went and found some comfort from her but I saw that look spread across her face once more.

“See, you’re just a thoughtless, self-centred...” she was scrambling round for the right word, “spoilt brat.”

She looked around the room.

“I want this place tidy in two minutes... and don’t test my patience.” She looked down at Kevin who was still a bit shaken from my shouting at him. “C’mon sweetie, let see what’s on telly shall we.”


I was raging but also feeling unsure. For the first time in ages I didn’t just throw my school trousers over a chair, I folded and hung them up. In the moment between mum calling me a spoilt brat and me taking my pants off completely, I suddenly thought about Pink’s situation and having to wear a nappy all the time and all because of our boozy weekend. It occurred to me that after mum’s chat with Mrs Greenwood and her seeing the nappies pegged out, she might be considering something similar for me. And, although I’d been as supportive as I could be with Pink, I didn’t want the same fate thank you very much.

Our little wrestling game had been an eye-opener because it had given me a chance to feel his padding and jokingly I’d said it suited him. Not that I’m calling him a little kid, it just out of our small group, it didn’t seem inappropriate for him to be wearing such a thing. Perhaps it was because I was taken by surprise when I saw him but a nappy had made him ‘different’. I can only explain it that, from the moment I saw him in the morning looking sheepish, which I thought was because he was wearing shorts, to his BIG REVELATION, his entire demeanour had changed.

He wasn’t as loud, cheeky, insulting to his class mates or with the teachers. He wasn’t demob happy like the rest of the school because we only had two more weeks before the summer break. No, he’d changed, and it was an immediate change. Now I realised it was because he had to wear a nappy. I think wearing it had made him scared and self-conscious, with a sudden shiver of realisation that panic began to rub off on me.

Mum had said there’d be further consequences and I hadn’t helped by just being a stupid idiot with my little brother... after all he was only being Kevin. For the first time in, well, I can’t remember but I felt guilty. So, in quick succession I decided to tidy up, make the bed and go down and apologise to Kevin and see if he wanted to play. I certainly didn’t want to spend the final two weeks of term having to wear a nappy to class.

I looked in the mirror and saw myself reflected wearing just my underwear. There was no way I was going to let mum or dad put me in a nappy like Pink and Paggs but what if I didn’t have a choice? I had to change the situation and thought it best to make the first move. I slipped on a pair of jogging pants and ventured down stairs to find Kevin watching something on TV.  


“Okay Kevilumps (a childish name I call him when we do occasionally play together) sorry about shouting at you.... you just caught me off guard. Is there something you want to play at now?”

Unfortunately, he was engrossed in his programme and barely acknowledged my being there. I thought perhaps it might be prudent to also apologise to mum and get on her good side.

I wandered into the kitchen.

“Erm, mum, sorry for shouting at Kevin, he just took me a little by surprise... erm... sorry as well for... you know... everything else...”

“That’s...” She looked at me and was contemplating something but I wasn’t sure what. I hoped I’d hear the words ‘that’s all okay then’ but that’s not what I got. “That’s not enough James. Do you know how much hard work you’ve been recently... and I don’t just mean Saturday night and the mess you made then. No.”

I wished I hadn’t started this but I had. She reamed off a few of my thoughtless actions but then stopped.

“Look, I’m not going to get into it right now but when your father gets in we all need to talk... and more importantly... you need to take note.”

I didn’t like the sound of that because although dad and I get on fine this sounded serious. However, I doubt if he’s ever once gone against mum’s decisions. Dad may bring home the bacon but mum’s the one who decides how it’s cooked.

My mind was racing. I wondered what exactly she was going to bring up. I then began to remember some of the thoughtless, nasty and vindictive things I’d done without even thinking about them. God, I could tot up quite a few offences myself... what will mum come up with?

A shiver ran down my back and for a few seconds my mind was full of images of me and Kevin wearing nappies. Mum was treating me as if I was younger than him and it was disturbing to say the least. Then I latched back in to what she was saying.

“... so, for the moment, go and change Kevin... your little outburst scared him and he’s tinkled in his shorts. You might as well put him in his night time nappy and pants... and bring his wet stuff down so I... no you... can put it in the washer.”

I sighed because I’d never changed Kevin’s nappy before but it looked like I was going to get a crash course in doing so.

“Mum I’ve never put a nappy on him...” I pleaded.

“Well now’s a good time to learn. He’ll need wiping down, spread on the anti-rash cream, plenty of powder and make sure the nappy is on tight and all the material is tucked in around the plastic pants... okay?”

I sighed again but was glad she didn’t finish with “...and then put one on yourself.”

“I’ll check when he comes down and if it isn’t right you’ll keep doing it until it is.”

I was sure mum was joking but I thought I’d better not test those limits just yet. I gathered up Kevin, he didn’t want to come as he was watching his favourite show, but I managed to coerce him without resorting to anger or violence.

“Is Kevilumps a bit wet?”

He pulled a face that said he was guilty.

“Shall we do something exciting and new?”

That got him interested.

“Let’s see what we can find to make the world famous Kevilumps all nice and dry shall we?”

He got up from in front of the TV and scrambled excitedly to his room. I wandered up after him dreading this new job I’d been given and wondering just how do you change a small boy?


Usually, I have no reason to go into Kevin’s room and was surprised just how messy it was. His was mostly toys strewn around but there were a few stains on the carpet where stuff had been spilt and not cleaned up quickly enough. Of course his change table, which was set up on top of a six drawer dresser and held a host of bottles, tubes and plastic containers that looked well used. I forgot just what a mixture of aromas a small wet boy’s room produces with all the stuff he needs.

While not being quite four, Kevin normally sleeps in protection because, although he doesn’t wet every night, he still has accidents. He doesn’t seem to mind wearing that stuff at night but during the day he wears his little briefs, which are covered in his favourite cartoon characters. However, even then, like today, if he has a sudden fright, or something untoward happens near him, he’s known to tinkle (mum’s term for it when talking to Kevin) in his undies.

For me, this isn’t a problem because it’s never fallen to me to be the one to change him. In fact, in all the days, weeks, months and years he’s been part of this family, I’ve never once been involved in changing him. So, big moment, this was going to be an experience for us both.

Now normally I’d make a complete hash of it just to make sure I was never asked to do it again. However, I knew that wouldn’t work in the current climate. Also, I wanted to get it right. One reason, I wanted to prove I could do it and another, I needed to prove to mum that I was as responsible as anyone else. I hoped that would go in my favour.

“Okay Kevvy, do you want to hop up here?”

He looked at me with his big innocent eyes as if to say that was a challenge he couldn’t accept. Then I caught myself.

Look, you need to get a grip, he’s only a little kid... you need to do things for him not expect him to do most of the work himself.

I had to agree with my own appraisal.


I playfully let out a huge “weeeee” as I lifted him up and placed him on the cushioned changing pad. Thankfully, despite expecting him to, he didn’t try to wriggle away, which I was more than happy about.

“Okay Kevilumps, next order of business.... let’s get these tinkle shorts and undies off shall we?”

He didn’t object as I tugged both items together down his legs. I could feel how wet they were and a slight aroma of his surprise tinkle hit my nostrils. Strangely, I was a bit self-conscious about seeing my little brother naked, even though I’d done so almost daily; the situation was just uncomfortable for me. Still it could have been worse. I tried to make him laugh by ‘pretending’ I didn’t know what I was doing and succeeded as he giggled all the way through the process.  

I cleaned and wiped him and was surprised he seemed to enjoy it. After smearing in a huge dollop of anti-rash cream I went to sort out a nappy for him. I had to leave him on the pad as I went and grabbed a huge terry cloth square and began to think how it was to be folded. I knew it couldn’t be too difficult and went to get my iPad from my room to see if there was anything online on how to do it.

I was only gone a few moments but when I returned he’d wriggled onto his side and was about to fall off the dresser. My blood ran cold as he teetered on the edge but I managed to get to him in time before he plummeted onto the carpet. It’s not a deep fall but I certainly didn’t want the lad hurt because of my ignorance of changing a nappy.

Rule one: Don’t leave a small child alone perched precariously on something high.

“No, no Kevvy... be careful, we don’t want you to splash into the ocean...” I pretended the carpet was the sea and he was on board a pirate ship. My relaxed words belied the moment of terror that had just turned my blood to ice.

I held him down as I skipped through a couple of pages on screen and there was a tutorial on how a nappy should be folded for a boy. I followed the instruction with one eye on Kevvy, who’d found a soft toy to hug, the other on the iPad. After a sprinkling of powder I managed to get the material under him and pinned on. I was quite pleased with the result because it didn’t look any different from when mum does it.

Feeling quite proud of myself I found a pair of blue vinyl pants, which I wriggled up his legs telling him that it was what all the trendy pirates were wearing these days. Afterwards I tickled his tummy, grabbed a blue onesie from his wardrobe to pull over his head and snapped it closed between his legs. I thought he looked more like a toddler but that’s how mum dressed him for bed so I wasn’t going to tell her otherwise.

Just as I finished mum was at the door. Kevin waddled over to her and she patted his padded bottom and told him what a smart boy he looked and he should thank his brother for getting him ready.

“Fank you Jimmeee.”

I nodded and smiled.

“Did you enjoy being changed by your big brother sweetheart?”


“Good because he’ll be taking care of you a lot more from now on.”

“Yeaaahhh.” He screeched enthusiastically.

I was trying to keep the smile on my face but my heart sank and I ended up involuntarily shrugging.

“Good, glad we’ve got that settled.” Mum held out her hand and Kevin toddled past her, obviously feeling too big to hold her hand to go downstairs.

I watched as he disappeared and stood there waiting for mum to tell me what a good job I’d done. She didn’t, she just looked and harrumphed as if to say ’see what you can do if you apply yourself’.

When she’d gone I returned to my room, it had never been so tidy and I had to think that I was the one who’d done that. For the second time in just a few minutes a shiver ran down my back... this time I wasn’t sure what it meant.


Once Jimmy had gone home I sat and continued to watch the nature programme. Him seeing what I was wearing, and being okay with it, had certainly been pretty unexpected. I didn’t like the idea of being on show like I was but if Jimmy was comfortable with it then I suppose I should be too. There again, he didn’t have to wear it. However, there was part of me that hoped his mum might make him. I don’t know why that would make me feel better, because the knowledge that Paggs had to wear a nappy all day Sunday hadn’t made me feel better... but Jimmy wearing one would. What kind of friend was I?

Penny had gone out so it was just mum and dad who said nothing as we sat and ate our meal. Well, they chatted of course but I was a little self-conscious so merely nodded or grunted a reply not once was my specific outfit mentioned. I was sure the soft crinkle or the fact the nappy was thick and on view would have got some kind of comment but apparently, this was going to be the new normal. In fact, it was only when I said that Jimmy was coming round at 6.30 was I reminded that it had better be a quick visit because my bedtime was 7pm.

Dad said it this time and in such a way it felt like it was a gentle reminder rather than an order. Mum didn’t say a word or break off in the general conversation but I wondered if this was a test... so, I nodded because I didn’t want my bedtime moving any earlier.

When Jimmy eventually did come round it was 6.20 and we went out into the back garden to talk.

“Well, that was a first.” He announced. “I’ve just changed Kevin’s nappy for the first time in my life.”

I’m ashamed to say that I was looking to see if he had a nappy on under his jogging pants and felt disappointed I couldn’t detect any tell-tale bulge.

“Mmmm that’s a bit of a pisser.” I added a little sadly.

He laughed.

“Yes, he’d pissed himself because I shouted at him and mum’s making me do all the changes...”

“Did you find it easy?”

“Once I’d looked online how to fold a nappy it wasn’t so bad... why... do you need a change?” He asked cheekily.


“Well, I have to change him out of his night time nappy, which is often wet, so I suppose I’ll get plenty of practice... should you need a hand.”

Resigned to the fact that now he knew what I wore, these are the type of comments I could expect.

“Okay, okay, is that your punishment?”

“No, dad has given me a curfew so for the next two weeks, until the school break, I have a bedtime of 7.00.”

“Oh, that’s like me.”

“Yes,” he looked at me pointedly. “Mum said it was your mum they got the idea from.”

“So, it’s just in school time, after that you’re free?” It sounded like I was pissed off and that I wanted something much harsher but there again, I was wearing a visible nappy under my plastic pants... and nothing had changed for him.

“Well, thank you, I think it’s enough but, mum and dad are talking now so there might be something else to come. Anyway, once school has broken up, those first two weeks we’re off on holiday... so I’m sure it will all stop then.”

“You lucky sod...” I said despairingly stroking my plastic bulge “I’ve got ‘til the start of the new term.”.

Of course I didn’t tell him I’d been wearing them at night for a few weeks already and wondered if mum had told his mum about that. He asked if I wanted to continue our video game but I explained that had been stopped as well. I then told him about the disastrous thing that happened at granny’s party and that my cousin Bradley was also wearing a disposable because he was being punished.

I told him about Uncle Peter and that I thought his advice had been crap... literally. We came to the conclusion it was all granny’s fault for giving the idea of nappies as punishment in the first place. By the time we’d finished mum came out and told Jimmy his mum called, he needed to get home as it was his bedtime. She seemed to enjoy telling him that as she looked at me and said the same.

“I’ll be up in a minute to put you in your night time protection,” she said and I knew that Jimmy heard. I could have killed her there and then embarrassing me like that. I was too humiliated to see what Jimmy’s reaction was.

However, I suppressed my anger “Mummm”, was about as far as I dare express my feelings.

She’d done it on purpose just to see how I’d react. Although I was steaming inside, I was pleased I hadn’t given her any further opportunity for punishment.


As always mum had got stuff ready. There were a couple of thick doubled nappies on the dresser and a couple of unopened packs of plastic pants.

“Mum,” I whispered hoping not to annoy her, “if I’m going to wear these all the time wouldn’t it be better if I could do it myself?”

“Oh sweetheart, that would be incredible if you could.”

My spirit lifted at this.

“Unfortunately, you’re only a silly little boy who has so much more to learn first before he’d be trusted to change his own nappy.” God she was laying this on thick. “So his mummy, daddy and lovely big sister, will be looking after him until he can look after himself. We don’t mind. We want to keep our little Pinky all nicely wrapped up and safe from messing everywhere.”

She pointed to the bag of stuff I’d not yet examined.

“Look, mummy’s bought a load of new things to keep her baby all clean and fresh.”

My spirit dived. Why was she being so awful? I’d never seen this sarcastic side of mum’s personality before and if truth be told, it frightened me. It was like we’d uncovered some evil genie and couldn’t get it back in the lamp.

“Anyway, it looks like you’ve wet this nappy,” she said pulling down my plastic pants and stroking the cotton fabric. “It could take a bit more but... let’s get you changed to be on the safe side. Besides, you’ve got a nice new thicker style of fabric to keep you from wetting the bed.”

She unpinned the nappy and it was damp though I didn’t remember wetting it.

“Lie down. That’s it let’s get you comfy.”

She pulled off the nappy and started wiping my crotch down. This is the most embarrassing bit and it takes a lot of willpower to keep from reacting. Meanwhile, keeping up a commentary about what she’s doing and how nice it will feel once it’s in place and that she has a little surprise for me once it all nicely pinned on.

The Sudocrem is applied thickly as is the powder and as she asks me to lift to feed the new material under my bum I can feel its new soft chunkiness. There’s even a new thicker soaker pad inserted which makes it more difficult to pull up between my legs.

“Spread your legs a bit sweetie.”

I do as I’m told so she can pull the various bits together and pin them tightly.

“That’s a new re-useable soaker pad made from bamboo, who’d have thought eh?” She enthused as if it was some kind of wondrous item.

Re-useable, re-useable I can’t get excited about that.

“Now for your little treat.” She said it as if I was about to receive a lollipop for being a ‘good boy’.

Mum unwraps one of the packs of plastic pants and I can see there’s a pattern on it. Up until now I’d only had clear or shiny white plastic pants but these looked more childish.

“I’ve bought you some more cheerful plastic pants sweetheart... I’m sure you were getting bored with those white ones. Anyway, these are much more fun and more appropriate for our little Pinky.”

They were pink and had nursery print animals all over them.

“Muuummm, please, I’m not a two year old.”

“No sweetie you’re not... but you’ve been acting like one and these are super-thick vinyl and will keep you nice and dry... all night... every night.”

Despite me seething I didn’t react as she shuffled the offending pants up my legs and tucked everything in. They were definitely sturdier and mum seemed confident they’d last a lot longer. I didn’t want to run my hands over them because it would look like I was interested but I did so automatically and they felt snug.

“There, now you’re ready for bed. So, let’s pull back the covers and you can slip straight in.”

That was it. I was now destined to wear even thicker nappies to bed and have them covered by tough childish plastic. There was one plus point, the vinyl didn’t rustle as noisily as the white or see-thru plastic pants and the whole thing felt a lot more flexible. The bad part was that the bundle was extremely thick and it took quite some time to get used to it and fall asleep.


When I got in mum was looking at her watch. “Cutting it a bit fine aren’t you?”

I shrugged... I should have apologised.

“It’s seven now and I said your bedtime is at seven so...”

“Yer, yer, well I’m here now aren’t I.” How quickly I forgot mum wasn’t playing any more.

“OK, we’ll see. Your father’s waiting in your bedroom.”

A chill ran through my body. I know they were chatting when I went to talk to Pink but this didn’t bode well at all.

Nervously I climbed the stairs. “Dad, dad are you...?”

“In here son.”

My anxiety levels were peaking as I saw him sat on my bed.

“Is, ermm, is everything alright dad?”

“It soon will be James... get yourself ready for bed and then we’ll talk.”

Dad sat and watched as I stripped and got into my pyjamas. I had searched around to make sure there were no nappies or such stuff but didn’t detect anything.

When I was ready dad had me stand in front of him, I thought he was going to read me some kind of riot act and threaten me with all manner of dire consequences if my attitude didn’t improve but no... he grabbed my wrist and pulled me towards him and then bent me over his knee.

Daaddd.” I screamed worried about what was to happen next.

He made sure I couldn’t wriggle and commenced spanking my upturned bum. I was in shock, it was something no one had ever done to me before and I was shaking in terror. Dad’s hand kept coming down hard and I was soon bawling like a two year old.

After twenty hard slaps (I think there were twenty but could have been more) I was snivelling and crying I’d never hurt so much.

Dad helped me to my feet and stood me in front of him.

“Now then James, a ten year old over his daddy’s knee isn’t a good look and should never happen. I hope it never has to happen again because from now on, every time you are disrespectful to your mother, teacher or anyone else for that matter, no matter where we are, public or otherwise, that’s where you’ll end up. That was a taster of what you can expect if we don’t see an immediate change in your attitude. So, go and apologise to your mother then come straight back here.”

My bottom burned and although I was indignant I was more feeling sorry for myself and wanted all this to go away. However, I’d been overwhelmed by those consequences that mum had warned me about and did what dad said.

“Sorry mum.” I snivelled. “I’m really sorry I’ll, I’ll be better...”

Mum hugged me and then sent me back to bed. Dad was still waiting.

“I never want to have to do that again James but it’s up to you. We love you and we want what’s best for you but... we are not going to raise a self-centred clever dick... I hope you understand because otherwise it could get painful. OK?”

I was still sobbing but I nodded I understood.

Dad kissed me goodnight and once he was out of the room the tears just flowed for a good ten minutes as my sore bum throbbed and I couldn’t relieve the pain.

What had just happened wasn’t something I was going to share with any of my friends that’s for sure.


In the morning mum came in to my room at 7am to get me ready for school. I was fast asleep as she pulled back the covers and slipped her hand down the front to check. The nappy was completely soaked. She checked that there were no leaks and then let me up. I said nothing as she just smiled whilst unpinning the huge soggy mass then sent me to the bathroom.

So, as I was still wetting at night I couldn’t complain about the need for a nappy. She was already setting out a day time nappy and plastic pants, thankfully they were not the nursery print ones.

“OK Pink...I think these shiny white ones are okay for school... if anyone notices they’ll just look like normal underpants.”

This wasn’t true. The thickness of a nappy and the slinky, slippery feel of its cover made what I was wearing anything but normal. However, they probably did look more like normal underpants than what I’d had to wear that night. This would be my second day at school and like yesterday I hoped no one would notice.

#### be continued







Part 7

I’d had a terrible night’s sleep because I wasn’t used to sharing a bed, and, even though William seemed to take up very little space, I was still uncomfortable. It had been the early hours before I eventually did drop off. Part of the problem was I had so much going on in my head. Mainly about how I was going to escape and what the next few weeks had in store if I couldn’t return home. Also, my bum was very painful from the strap and all the crying had left me feeling pitiful and vulnerable. Unfortunately, mother had been pretty definite about me ‘changing my ways’; I just hoped she didn’t want me to become a religious zealot like this lot.

There was something else rattling around in my head and that was the prayer the boys had said. In William’s squeaky little voice he thanked God for the arrival of his new ‘brother’ Patrick and wished him nothing but happiness. This was echoed by both Howard and his father and it all sounded so genuine.  

Despite everything that has happened William’s prayer had got to me and I began to think when the last time I’d wished ‘happiness’ for anyone?

This thought drilled into my head and upset me more than it should. I certainly couldn’t remember doing so on any occasion in the recent past. And yet, my six year old cousin and his brother had already accepted me and wanted me to be happy like they were. I thought they had no thoughts of their own but this, this felt different, and left me uneasy with my past actions.


I was roused by Uncle Jason waking up his boys. Howard was already out of bed when I finally came too and saw his dad lift up his nightshirt and check his nappy. He hadn’t wet.

“Good boy another week and you’ll be back...”

He didn’t finish what he was saying as Howard hugged his father and the words were lost in the embrace.

Then it was William’s turn and he was soaked. I should have known because the aroma of pee was quite intense. I wondered how I’d slept next to him all night and not realised. Then Uncle Jason got me up and I was surprised to see my nappy sag and that I was also soaked. That aroma was partly down to me as well... shame, incomprehension and guilt filled my head.

“How did you boys sleep?”

“Very well thank you daddy.” William was surprisingly chipper seeing as how he’d just woken up.

“And you Patrick... how did you sleep?”

I was still anxious about wearing a soggy nappy and could hardly get my head around the fact I’d peed in my sleep. Both cousins were staring at me but didn’t comment, although I realised that any feelings of superiority I had over them wearing nappies had now vanished as I took in my condition. Seeing I was a little confused their father took the lead.

“Good job we had a pair of plastic pants that fit eh?” Uncle Jason said smiling and patting my soggy bulge as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

That is the thing about him he always appears the most amiable of people. He’s American so has a slight accent that gives the impression of him being in good humour. Not necessarily joking but smiling and measured in his speech that carries a very calming effect. However, get him going about this sect and he’s a nutter and unswerving in his attitude towards none believers. There is only the one path and he, his family and followers are on it... everyone else is heading to Hell.

“I’ve never wet before...” I was desperate for him not to think this was a regular occurrence.

“It’s fine Patrick we are used to diapers in this house. Your mother said you’d recently started to wet the bed...”

“That was only the once... I was...” I interrupted trying to defend myself but then changed my mind. Diapers? Ah yes, the American name for nappies. However, I couldn’t imagine why I’d woken up soaked... perhaps the enema might have had something to do with it but I could hardly ask.

“Never mind,” he dismissed any type of argument. “That’s why we have our boys, and you from now on, nicely equipped for bed. We don’t want you wondering around in the dark, bumping into things and making a noise now do we. No, once you’re in bed we expect you to stay there until either Aunty Beatrice or myself say it’s time to rise and shine and thank the Lord for keeping us all safe throughout the night.

“Amen” both boys chorused.

Uncle Jason beamed at his sons then looked at me but I was still in shock looking down at my nightwear; a shiny sagging plastic bulge. Why had I wet?

“I said... thank the Lord for keeping us safe throughout the night.”

The boys chorused with ‘Amen’ once again and I saw he was waiting for my response.

“Erm, um, errr... Amen?” The saggy wet thing between my legs was what I was worried about.

“That’s the idea Patrick, the Lord loves you so it’s only right that you should love the Lord and let him know he’s in your thoughts twenty-four hours a day, every day.”

“Amen” Two young voices chimed in.

“Yes, amen,” I added quietly whilst reminding myself of the strap this man had viciously used only a few hours earlier.


William and I sat in our soaked nappies whilst we had breakfast... it was some sort of porridge. The chairs were wooden, hard and quite uncomfortable also the wet fabric certainly wasn’t helping. As this was all new to me I wasn’t sure if we were being punished for wetting or if it was just normal routine. Of course grace was said before and after the meal and I was told that as the boys had school to go to, I’d be left with my aunty and she would teach me about God’s wonderful gifts to the world.

I said that I wasn’t interested in the bible I only wanted to go home. Aunty Beatrice put her hand on my shoulder and told me that according to my mother.

“‘Although we were a ‘lost cause’ there was still a chance of redemption for Patrick.’ Her exact words so that’s why you are here with us. Your parents think... quite rightly... that our way of bringing up a child to know, love and respect God, and through him their family, is the only way to be in His Good Grace.”

“But we’re not religious.” I answered.

“That’s a problem we aim to solve with the Bible, The Lord and this loving family.”

“I just want to go home.” I whined.

“That’s not an option at the moment. Your parents think that you and your friends are on a path that leads to drug addiction and criminality. Whilst they have no say over them they have decided to do something about you. So, until we see you accept God’s love and direction into your heart and mind, your parents don’t want you to return.”

Surely my parents aren’t that....

“It is therefore our mission,” she interrupted, “to create in you the understanding the Lord brings into this world.”

“Oh God...”

“It seems to me that we will need the help of another member of our family.”

I suddenly realised that she meant Mr Badger.

“Mr Badger, and his myriad of friends, have steered the young of our faith for many years. He focuses the mind and with each stroke helps drive out evil and doubt from a young person’s polluted and sinful body.”

I was speechless and terrified but now under the control of a family of religious lunatics.


Uncle Jason is an elder, or preacher, or something in this ‘cult’ and where they lived had its own community for support; everyone looks up to him and his perfect family.  All the neighbours seem to dress and sound exactly like my aunt and uncle... sorry... Aunty Beatrice and Uncle Jason, which makes me realise that there is no one local I can turn to for any kind of support - their weird religion is everywhere.

I watched as Uncle Jason led the two boys, now changed and wearing their perfect matching school uniforms, out the door to the car. Mother would have called them ‘adorable’ as they smiled and waved their goodbyes to their mother and ‘new brother’.

“Where are they going?”

“I’ll remind you once more of the correct way to address any adult... you start with the word Please.” She’d said this before and I’d forgotten. “You try.”


“We don’t need all these erms and umms now do we?”

“No Aunty Beatrice.”

“That’s not quite right now is it Patrick, what have I just said. I think Mr Badger will be paying you a visit very soon if you can’t even get the simplest thing correct.”

“Please, Aunty Beatrice, I’m sorry.”

“There that wasn’t difficult was it?”

“Please, when might I get out of this wet nappy... please Aunty Beatrice?”

“Oh soon child, don’t worry, let’s have a look in the Bible first so we can see what you already know shall we?”


For the next ninety minutes there followed a long set of questions, most of which proved I knew nothing. My damp nappy was drying as I sat and itched within its creases and folds. At the end she simply said that we’d start from the very beginning and took me back upstairs to change into something dry. I had hoped it would be my own clothes but it was another nappy.

“But please Aunty Beatrice... why a nappy and why not my own clothes?”

“Firstly, I don’t approve of the clothes your mother packed so we won’t be seeing them again. Secondly, your mother informed us that you recently arrived home wearing wet pants covered in your own urine.”

“Yes, but I was drunk...” I realised I’d said too much.

She pulled a face as if to say it was as expected and she didn’t need any further proof she was doing the right thing.

The change felt weird because of two things. Last night I’d been beaten into accepting wearing one and this time I was glad to be out of the itchy thing. I was relieved to be released from the discomfort I felt around my groin. Those few seconds as it was removed and she wiped and cleaned the area was difficult but I knew not to fight her on this.

She thoroughly spread on some cream and powder making sure everywhere was covered. Again, although I was uncomfortable with the situation felt unable to complain.

My rebellion would have to wait.

Once a fresh nappy was in place she sought out another pair of clear plastic pants.

“Do I have to?” I quickly realised my mistake. “Please Aunty Beatrice can’t I wear...” But she just ignored my protests, whilst I, still being fully aware of my fairly raw bottom, re-thought any objections.

“Just so you know there will be new clothes so you blend in with how we like to present the family as a whole. So you, Howard and William will wear matching outfits.”

Oh god no. From what I’d seen already I didn’t want that... I’d look like a little kid. As if reading my mind she continued.

“As you are just learning and not yet accepted into our congregation... you will be treated like a fledgling that has yet to attain flight.” She indicated my new underwear. “We will keep you safe and protected until you can.”  

The diap... erm... nappy was thick and pinned on tightly, the plastic pants also seemed to grip tightly. I desperately wanted my own clothes but she interrupted my thoughts.

“Your Uncle Jason has already told the congregation all about you and they are all excited to be there to help.” She was beaming with pride.

“Wh, wh, why... what are they helping with?” I didn’t like this idea at all.

“He’s told them about your battle with drugs and alcohol and thieving and incontinence and has encouraged everyone, no matter what age, to prey for you and help you on the road to salvation whenever they see you.”

“But, but... please aunt...” I burst into tears.

“I know, I know. These are wonderful, caring people and each and every one of them will have your best interests at heart.”

She hugged me but didn’t know I was not crying because of their caring but the picture that had been painted of me. Why had my parents chosen such a negative and untruthful way to portray exactly what happened? I was none of the things they accused me of... was I?

This isn’t fair... I’m never going to leave this place.


After the sobbing subsided she passed a pair of tiny soft cotton shorts, which must have belonged to one of my cousins but barely covered the thickness underneath. I’m considerably taller than Howard, who is the oldest, so if I’m to wear his clothes it will be a struggle. Thankfully, she passed me a jumper that fitted quite well but that was all. Then it was back to the kitchen and the hard wooden chair I’d sat on for breakfast and she opened her Bible.

I didn’t like any what had just taken place, the thick padding making me aware of its presence all the time, but, as Mr Badger was a constant presence I kept quiet for the sake of my already purple and bruised bum. I think the padding might have helped relieve some of the pain as I sat and contemplated my future.

There were times when my mind wandered and I wondered about a possible route of escape. Then Aunty Beatrice would bang on the table to get my attention and ask me to repeat what she’d just said. If I couldn’t then I got a whack from Mr Badger.

“Concentrate on these words,” she’d say with love as she’d stroke the Bible’s cover, “they’re the only true answer to any problem.”

So she’d fathomed what I was dreaming about but was never going to escape her devotion to the Lord and that meant I’d never evade her constant attention. I would be under her jurisdiction all day, every day. I wriggled uncomfortably in that awful, childish nappy and never regretted anything more than having that drinks party in the woods.


After a couple of hours of ‘study’ I was bursting for a pee.

“Please Aunty Beatrice, I need to go to the toilet.” I shuffled in my seat to show it was fairly urgent as I’d been dying to go for some time but was scared of mentioning it. Now I had no option.

“Oh Patrick you don’t have to ask... that’s why you’re wearing a diaper so you can go when you need to and continue hearing the word of the Lord.”

“But, but...”

She raised her eyebrows and I saw her hand twitch a little towards that wretched strap. I had no option at all and the fear helped fill the spongy fabric.

Although I fought it I have to say it was an absolute relief. It was difficult coming to terms that I was sitting in a nappy that I’d just knowingly saturated... and I just had to carry on as if it was normal.

An hour later and she said we could rest a little and have some lunch but first took me back to the bedroom for a change.

“Patrick you must not fight it,” She said as she pulled at the plastic pants and inspected the soaked material. “Don’t see your diaper as anything but a friend. Boys and girls wear them all the time so don’t fight it. If you need to go, go, there will always be someone around to help change a soggy little boy.”

This last bit was almost normal, understanding and spoken with a loving smile... her hand brushed hair away from my forehead. How could she be like this one second and an absolute bitch the next? Then fear engulfed me – what if she knew what I’d just thought?

She was giving me encouragement but about something I didn’t want any encouragement on. However, having been sat around in a wet nappy a couple of times now I have to say I’m grateful to wear a dry one. I didn’t want to smile but the thickness also made sitting on the hard chair a little easier and an involuntarily nervous smile made its way to my face.

“Good,” she said, “now you seem to understand a little better.”

I wasn’t sure that was the case but said nothing. What I did feel was me sliding into depression but I also knew that if I let on Mr Badger would ‘help guide me to a more positive situation’ I had to pretend to take notice.

She looked concerned. “We don’t want to be enemies but you are here for a reason... why not delight in it... there is so much to enjoy. There’s always so much love and understanding in the words of the Lord, embrace him and you cannot go wrong.”

I thought she said enemas and another cold shiver ran through my body as I considered if I’d experience that again. I’d learned from last night that being obstinate or refusing to do as I was told delivered nothing but pain, so I suppose on that level I was understanding things a bit better. However, they couldn’t stop me from free-thinking... or at least I hoped they couldn’t. I’d call them nappies and not diapers.


More Bible followed as did the teachings of their particular sect. Their rules and observance of the Bible didn’t make much sense to me. Whenever my mind wandered it was quickly brought back time and time again by the crack of the strap on the table or to my bare leg. I was continuously asked to repeat back what had just been said often more than once, if I got any part of it wrong I had to start all over again.

I deliberated on why they had made me wear a nappy; was it because I’d wet myself back home, last night and this was just an on-going punishment or, perhaps something to do with their religion.

“Erm, er, sorry. Please Aunty Beatrice, why do I have to wear a nappy, I’m eleven, I can go to the toilet.”

She put down the Bible and clasped her hands together as if in prayer.

“We don’t allow such questions Patrick. Adults know what’s best and are here to guide their children, spread the good word and follow the Lord’s teachings within the strictures of our church. But, at your family’s request, we are starting from scratch with you, and, as you’ve already shown us you wet yourself, understandably that’s where we are starting from.”

She smiled as if she was talking to a small child who understood nothing. I couldn’t argue about wetting at home, although there was a good reason for that but I also couldn’t deny I’d wet last night in my sleep and I was unaware I’d done so.

“A diaper will be your basic underwear both night and day for the near future. There is no doubt that you will be a little disorientated with our ways to begin with and in turn this may well lead to you having uncontrolled accidents.” She looked to make sure I was taking everything in. “A diaper is there to serve and protect, much like the good book itself.  We rely on discipline and the word of the Lord to achieve that outcome to everyone’s benefit. You should embrace this wonderful opportunity Patrick... I’m sure William and Howard will be only too pleased to help show you the way.”

My heart sank. I no longer felt like I had any control, or that I was even eleven year-old. Although these were family members and wanted my happiness it didn’t feel like it. I was starting from scratch with a weird new alien group and that was pretty unnerving. I dreaded becoming like my cousins but now knew how they ended up that way... a small child and Mr Badger that was No Contest.

Those initial words from Aunty Beatrice had been imprinted on my mind – discipline and the word of the Lord - I only had those two things to think about... so had Howard and William. No wonder they still wet themselves... Oh God... I felt an involuntary spurt myself.

Aunty Beatrice has just said it’s time to continue my cleansing... I’m petrified... and that spurt has become another flood.

## be continued





















Part 8

Paulo (Paggs) Paganini is the youngest member of his family. He has three sisters all of whom witnessed with disgust the state their little brother returned home in after that party in the woods. At first, like their parents, they just thought he was sick but when the true extent of what had gone on became apparent, they wanted a line in the sand to be drawn that their wayward brother would not dare cross.

The disaster that saw him throwing up and then shitting his pants had led to mother putting him straight into a nappy to avoid further accidents. It was a sensible and practical way of dealing with such a messy mishap. His middle sister Maria had gone through a spell of incontinence when she was younger so all the trappings for her protection were already available for her brother. However, as more info of Paulo’s, dishonesty and dubious behaviour became apparent, there’d been a discussion to decide on a sentence for these offences.

Like the other parents of this drunken group of eleven year-olds... no one was happy with what had taken place. Blame and accusations abounded but the boys themselves were unaware, to begin with at least, the disgust their alcoholic revelry had generated. Boy’s their age should be still playing out on their bikes not be stealing alcohol, staying out late and then throwing up (and worse) so such appalling actions had to be stopped. They had to make it so none of the boys ever wanted to try that again. The after-effects of this woeful experience were going to be with each boy for quite some time to come.

The most obvious solution was to keep Paulo in nappies for the rest of the day, which they did although his father had said that wearing a nappy to school was not on. However, this form of discipline seemed to be a favourite with the girls, who, as Mrs Paganini pointed out to her husband, never did anything similar as they were growing up. Therefore, the only person to blame for Paulo’s infantile failings was himself. Mr Paganini had argued his corner in defence of his son but, it was hard to defend his son messing so dramatically. This was especially true when his wife told him that he could clean up the shit if he felt so strongly. He ducked for cover. He’d found out quite early on, when the female side of the family banded together, his views became of little consequence.


Paulo wasn’t a bad boy, although he was getting cheeky and his self-centred behaviour was becoming more noticeable. He was a boy surrounded by women and felt he had to exert his misogynistic male dominance... or so he concluded. Paulo idolised Jimmy who was very independent in mind and spirit and wanted to be like him. He’d even joined the scouts so he could spend more time in his company. It had been Jimmy, who, having acquired some booze, had got everyone else to contribute something so they could “party, party, party” in the woods. However, this latest stunt was the final straw as far as Paulo’s mother and sisters were concerned, who all felt he needed a reminder he was still the baby of the family and couldn’t do what he wanted when he wanted. A nappy had been just the start of their thinking. 

They came up with the idea that from now until he started high school every weekend he would be treated as a girl - it would act as a reminder not to be so cocky. His father said a firm “NO” but was quickly shouted down and out-manoeuvred by this quartet of clever women. They had plenty of clothes they could use and over the weekend, whilst dressed in such a manner, the cushion of protection would feature to remind him of ‘consequences’. He’d become their little sister, who’d be shown how to be demure, thoughtful and polite, there were enough of them to make sure it happened whether anyone else wanted it to or not.

His mother thought this was a suitable punishment for the mess and attitude they had all endured. It would, she hoped, act as a very good reminder of just how disgusting what he and his friends had done and that there were severe and far-reaching penalties for such behaviour.

“Just having fun” was no justification and once told of his punishment he cried and angrily (though ineffectually) protested for the rest of Sunday. He also fell asleep and messed the precautionary nappy once more so was even further humiliated and let down by his own immature body.

The girls were enthusiastic that their ‘stinky baby brother’ should become their ‘loving little sister’ and made sure ‘she’ was kept under constant supervision. Paulo stood no chance.


During the week Paggs wasn’t grounded like Pink and Jimmy, and like everyone else had little idea of what Patrick would be enduring but his sisters took charge and made him suffer. The independence he thought a boy his age should have was cruelly taken away and found that Saturday mornings he’d be surrounded by the female element of the family and be dressed, despite fierce protestations, as they saw fit.

It always started with him being forced into a thick nappy and rubber pants. From there his sisters would bicker over what they thought he should wear for the day. Once ready they instructed he should act like a girl, and in return his sisters would treat him as such and no one would be any the wiser. Or, he could act like a boy, they would refer to him as a Nancy boy and then everyone would know he was just a sissy playing at being a girl. Despite his obvious unwillingness it didn’t take him long to realise that playing along being a sister was the less humiliating option.

However, the girls added another touch of embarrassment but only he’d be aware of. When out and about, which he was quite a bit of the time as the girls took great delight in parading him everywhere, he wasn’t allowed to use the girl’s or boy’s toilets so he had to use his nappy. His sisters took great delight in making sure he did and told him, if he didn’t want them to publicly check, he had to inform them when he’d done so. The rubber pants kept his secret contained but also kept his sisters amused.

Paggs was just too ashamed to tell his friends what happened on a weekend or why he was unavailable at that time to meet up.

Although, there was a little bit of ‘solidarity’ when he heard about Pink’s nappy sentence, at least his wasn’t 24/7. The news of Patrick’s removal from their little group and sent to Cheltenham (apparently with a huge tax-deductible donation to the church) made them all a little thankful they didn’t have his malicious parents and wondered if, in comparison, they’d got off lightly.  


I was in a right state when I got home Saturday night. I can look back now and think how stupid we all were but that’s no excuse for the trail of vomit and shitty pants I’d left as a result. To begin with mum and my sisters were all comforting and understanding, they thought I was sick. When they realised otherwise, they got extremely angry with me for being fooled. It didn’t help that whatever I’d eaten (and maybe drunk) was having a terrible effect in my gut and I crapped my pants.

I always know I’m in trouble because mum becomes determined and efficient; not that she isn’t always that way, but normally mum has an easy-going way of dealing with things. This was different. As soon as she saw the state of my jeans I was whisked away to the bathroom and she sent Maria to gather some old stuff stored at the back of the airing cupboard. Before I knew it, and I was in no fit state to complain, she had me cleaned up and wearing one of Maria’s old nappies.

My sister had a spate of wetting at night a few years ago so mum was prepared, anyhow, I was now benefitting from that damp phase. I was put to bed wearing just a nappy but I’d hardly been in it for more than a few minutes when apparently a second wave of the shits kicked in and I filled that as well.

Alana noticed and told mum so whilst I was zonked out she changed me yet again and told my sisters that from then on I was only to wear protection “the thicker the better”. I know this because Sunday morning and Gabby, the youngest of my sisters, checked and found I was soaked so it more or less reinforced what mum had in mind. I also noticed that the nappy was a lot thicker and I was wearing a pair of voluminous plastic pants so things were different from what I’d been dressed in when I went to bed. When I queried this I was informed of my second disgusting splurge.  

That news took the wind out of my sails a bit so no matter how much I protested, and even got dad on side, there was no changing mum’s direction on this. So I spent all of Sunday recovering but wearing a thick nappy, which really pissed me off. However, I still bore the aftermath of shame and a hangover, so, any protesting was done a lot quieter than I would normally argue my point.


I think mum maybe spoke to other mums and, as we’d all arrived home in a state and made a mess, they came to some kind of conclusion about how we should be treated. However, my sisters complained that I’d been a pain for a while now and suggested to mum that here was an ‘opportunity’ for dealing with that as well. I only found this out after I heard dad saying “...definitely not” whilst I still had school but mum told him to “...keep out of it”. I wasn’t sure then what he was commenting on but, although on my side, against mum and the girls he didn’t stand a chance.

They’d dropped hints that come the next weekend something else would happen but I just thought I’d be grounded or not allowed in the woods for a few weeks. However, the following Saturday and I was surrounded by mum and sisters who held me down, stripped my pyjamas and teased that they were going to make a ‘proper lady’ out of me.

I had a sudden worry they were going to cut off my balls and anxiety coursed through my naked body.

As a kid they’d played dress-up games and I’d be their doll. I hated it then and at my age I wasn’t about to let them do that to me again. I wriggled and protested and yelled that they’d never make me wear their panties. They simply promised not to make me wear their knickers... and giggled.

Then, out of the blue, the manhandling got more serious and before I knew it they had me pinned into another nappy before pulling up those large plastic pants, then, unceremoniously forcing me into a summery juvenile dress.

“See,” Alana said, “you’re too much of a baby to wear big girl’s panties.” The others just cackled in triumph.

I’m a boy so fought them, complaining loudly that they were trying to destroy my masculinity and it was an insult to my Italian heritage. They looked from dad, who was reading the paper, and then back to me and giggled, it was a perception they didn’t take seriously.  Nevertheless, they made it clear that it would go better for me if I didn’t fight them. I still lashed out and caught Gabby on the mouth. That was it - their nips and punches were painful and in the end, outnumbered and out-manoeuvred (Alana shoved her hand past the nappy, grabbed my balls and viciously twisted them) I just wanted it to stop so immediately gave in. I should know from experience my sisters always gave more than they got in any fight.

Dressed in some of Gabby’s childish old clothes I felt stupid, ashamed and impotent. What was worse when I looked in the mirror, the padded lump could quite easily be seen. Mum thought it was a suitable punishment and dad argued it was “a silly and dangerous thing to do” but he got out voted, if in fact they took a vote.

I was demoralised and humiliated, and now with them all ganged up against me(and my balls still stinging) I was nothing but a toy to them. It was like back being a toddler when I was constantly being dressed up... like then I had no way to defend what was happening. They were enjoying their power (and abuse of it) but there was no one I could turn to for support. Dad was useless.


Sandwiched in the back of the car between Alana and Gabby mum took us to the new mall that had just opened in the next town over. It was a few miles from where we lived so whether there’d be anyone I knew there I didn’t dare think. Although they were excited at this new shopping experience I cried throughout the journey, begging them to think again and promising I’d be nice and good... it fell on deaf ears. Maria warned that if I didn’t act like a nice little girl they’d make everyone aware that I was just a huge sissy getting my kicks from wearing my sister’s clothes. I couldn’t win.

Gabby shoved her hand up my dress and past the rubber pants and tweaked my privates.

“Just checking,” she smiled malevolently - no doubt getting her own back for the fat lip.

“Quit it,” I complained through teary eyes.

“Oh sweetie,” Alana continued. “We’ve only just started.”

“Muuummm.” I wanted her to intercede.

“Do as your sisters say...” she looked in the rear-view mirror directly at me. “However, I have to say you do look a darling little girl... the tears and nappy... really set off that outfit.”

I was getting no sympathy from there.

As I cried and complained in the back seat mum told me to ‘suck it up’ (I have no idea where she gets these terms from) because if I continued to protest then I’d be wearing girls clothes to school and the entire summer break. Of course this set me off worse but she wasn’t about to give in and I saw my fate was sealed if I didn’t comply.

As a group of girls we toured the mall and if I didn’t enthuse as they were over some girlie clothes or soppy something or other, I’d get a pinch or threat of a spanking in public if I didn’t play along. When they stopped to chat to a friend they introduced me as ‘Belle’ a younger cousin who was a little shy. I hated every moment but knew what was best (or least worse) in this awful situation. Taking my cues from a painful nip on the arm I squealed and screamed in delight. I despised every second.

I can’t say I was enjoying myself but I knew that if I was seen sulking then I’d be revealed for what I was – a boy dressed as a girl in a nappy and I couldn’t let that happen. My sisters took pleasure in patting my thick padding and telling me how ‘pretty’ I looked and then whisper that they knew I should have been a girl because I looked so cute dressed as I was... it felt creepy but I could do nothing. I think my insincere smile made them think I was ‘enjoying’ the experience. I wasn’t... I really, really wasn’t.


As they wouldn’t take me to the ladies toilets and the men’s room was out, they also made me fill my nappy and seemed to take great delight in my disgrace. I have to say a wet nappy made me think differently - I didn’t dare do or say anything in case I drew attention to myself and people would be aware of the big wet sagging thing between my legs.

On a couple of occasions I’d tried to hold it in but my bladder was having none of it and released the uncomfortable build up. It’s strange knowingly peeing yourself and I had to be grateful that the padding was thick enough to absorb all I let flow.

Mum let me know that from now until I started at the new school, every weekend would be the same and if I created... I’d be wearing a nappy and girls clothes for the entire new term. I’m sure dad wouldn’t have let that happen but so far he’d been unable to stop any of this.

When we did return home and the girls made jokes about my soaked nappy he seemed repulsed that I’d done so when dressed in such a way. I noticed he appeared less supportive, as if he thought less of me and that I deserved it. Mum said it just proved I needed to be kept well-protected so over each weekend the nappy stayed.

On a couple of mornings I’d woken up wet... I had no idea why (I suspected foul play but had no proof). Much to their collective amusement (and insistence) a fresh nappy would then be applied the following night “Just to be on the safe side”. So, although I didn’t have to wear a nappy to school, some Monday (and Tuesday) nights I’d still have to sleep in protection. If I woke up dry then I was fine until the weekend again.

There was no way I was going to tell the other guys what was happening to me but when I heard about Pink’s punishment I thought at least we had something in common. Poor Patrick, we had no idea what he was going through but as we’d all met the ‘Flanders’s’ knew he wouldn’t be enjoying his time there. Jimmy, who had set the entire thing in motion, seemed to get off lightest... although he complained about it all the time. I think the rest of us tried to pretend nothing was happening and keep our embarrassment under-wraps. Pink had no chance, his nappy and plastic pants were visible nearly all the time (we didn’t say anything) and if you went to his house that’s all he was allowed to wear. At least I could keep my embarrassment a secret.


I think Pink has become reliant on wearing a nappy. It’s probably just as well because his night-time wetting appears to have gotten worse. In fact, there are occasions when he wets during the day as well. He tried to keep it secret but, as I’m the one who mostly changes him it was becoming more and more obvious. He begged me not to tell our parents and as his loving big sister I told him I wouldn’t, he was very grateful, but I told them anyhow. The thing is, whereas before he’d go ballistic and scream and shout at me, now he’s more compliant and just goes off and sulks. No drama, no fireworks, just a pet-lip and probably another wet nappy... for mum, dad or me to change.


I think this wetting-the-bed business started when we were having some end of the year exams at school. I was worried because I don’t like tests and these were very important. Well, I think that might have been the cause but I can’t be sure. I just know I’ve been anxious for a number of months. I don’t seem to have any confidence, my friends all seem to be growing up but I feel I’m staying stagnant...  and now, with the dreams, it’s getting worse. At times I’m almost scared of my own shadow.

However, mum insisting on an early bedtime hasn’t helped, eight o’clock is too early as I’m usually wide awake and the fact that there’s little in my room to distract me is a problem. Of course it’s better than the week I had bed at seven after the granny incident but still. I’m waking up in the early hours of the morning soaked but unable to sleep or do anything but wait.

Unfortunately, the nightmare I had after that boozy night in the woods keeps haunting me. I don’t know why that is either... because I’m not drunk or suffering from a dicky tummy or anything like that. So why that heavy sense of doom and terror persists I can’t explain.

It isn’t always the same but variations on a similar theme - I’m lost or out of my depth. However, the outcome is usually the same. There’s been many early mornings when I’ve just laid there, feeling the warm wetness surround my bollocks too late to do anything about it but dreading falling asleep again in case I do something worse. On quite a few occasions I’ve found myself on the verge of, you know, shitting... but managed to hold it in, although the pee still flows.

The problem I have is that the longer I lie there thinking about those awful dreams, the more I get troubled about them. That slide into some dark abyss, or being lost somewhere, or a beast stalking me... they are all terrible and haunt my head... and so... I dream and wet. During the day it’s not so bad but I still sometimes freeze in fear over something and nothing... I know it’s all in my head but I just can’t shake it off. There have been times when, for what appear to be no reasons at all, I’ve felt a spurt and wondered why.

It’s the summer break from school and as there’s nothing else I’ve taken to quietly raiding my old toy box. I can spend a couple or so hours before anyone else gets up pushing toys around the room. I might squelch a bit but at least I’m not bored and it is sort of enjoyable in a sad, pathetic type of way. I then quickly pack everything back in the box before Penny or mum come in to change me.

The problem is the nightmares are getting horrendous - god knows but I’m grateful to sleep in the company of my old teddy. I know I’ve cried out a couple of times because I’ve woken up to see Penny standing in the doorway. I’m wetting more and... I hate to admit it, but, sometimes I’ve wet during the day. Thankfully, with mum insisting I wear a nappy all the time, I’ve been saved from too much embarrassment and as it’s turned out, the thing actually offers some security, which I wasn’t expecting.

Although I’m constantly in my protection, when out and wearing shorts few people have noticed or said anything so, I’ve been quite pleased about that. In fact, quite often I don’t realise I’m wearing anything... I suppose after all this time I’m getting used to it... or grateful for it.

# be continued












Part 9

Both Pink and Jimmy had early curfews and had to be ready for bed by seven with bedtime at eight. So, much to their annoyance, throughout their long summer holiday they were called in when everyone else was out having fun. Out of the lads involved Jimmy seemed to get off with the least punishment, although I was amazed to see how he was now so responsible for his little brother. They’d often come round, or Pink would go next door, and all three would play together.

Our neighbours were supposed to be going on vacation for the first two weeks of the long school break but Mr Armitage’s firm was involved in some sort of take-over so was needed in the office. The holiday was postponed, Jimmy became frustrated but could do nothing about it and his mother threatened if he didn’t ‘snap out’ of his doldrums, she’d find something for him to really be depressed about. However, with that threat ringing in his ears (and the fact that his father had promised once it was all over and the firm had settled he’d take them all somewhere special), he soon found moping around no help at all and that it was best to keep busy in any way that presented itself. His mum was very good at finding him things to do if she saw him looking miserable or slacking in his chores.

Being grounded they weren’t allowed to go too far. The street and the garden were the boundaries but when together this trio looked so sweet. Jimmy seemed in charge, then Kevin and then Pink. Of course, Kevin wasn’t grounded and could go off and visit his mates, mostly chaperoned by his brother. However, if they were playing next door I’d often see my brother’s vinyl covered padding appear down the leg or above the waistband of his shorts, an event he occasionally shared with young Kevin. Throughout the summer days and nights my darling little brother seemed oblivious to this or, if he wasn’t, gave the impression of it not bothering him. Perhaps he’d convinced himself no one noticed or was just past caring. I also wondered, though never asked, if Jimmy ever changed his wet nappy like he has to with Kevin. I hoped so.

On that issue, Pink soaks his nappy regularly.  It’s as if he doesn’t appreciate anymore whether he’s wet or dry. Although he’s coming up to twelve, at the moment he appears of indeterminate age, which is weird. There have been a few times he’s looked vacantly at me as I’ve called him in for a change and only when I’ve pointed out how wet he is does he realise why. That’s one of the reasons we all make sure he’s slathered in Sudocrem or Vaseline when we put him in a fresh nappy, his skin needs extra waterproofing.

When all this started I thought he deserved it. He hadn’t been the nicest person and with his smelly bedwetting and the arrogant way he treated mum as his personal maid, I was only too pleased to see him wrapped up like he has been. The various creams and powders we use, thankfully, all but obliterating the smell of morning urine. However, over these last few weeks of mum laying down the law, his attitude has changed and, although I’m not sure he’d agree, nappies don’t seem to be much of a problem to contend with. I think he simply gets on with it all and as a result I’ve found I’m less annoyed and want to make his nappy changes fun.

Now he has an assortment of styles and colours I let him select which plastic pants he wants to wear. I’m not sure if mum would approve but I find it makes him smile and look content as I rustle the chosen pair up his legs. I think I also must have changed a little because these days I love seeing my baby brother smile and this little privilege seems to give him that small amount of freedom he’s not allowed any other time.  

Meanwhile, any and all trips to the woods by the boys are banned by every parent.

I gather, from conversation I heard between mum and Mrs Armitage, that the threat of further sanctions, and the desire not to have to wear a nappy any time, kept Jimmy pretty much under control. He’s become Kevin’s best friend and despite everything is very attentive to what an occasional wet four year old needs. Jimmy’s become such a mother’s little helper that she joked he’s become so proficient at nappy changing she’s thinking of hiring him out as a nanny.

Mum joked that he could babysit Pink if we ‘grown-ups’ all went out for a meal one night. At least I think she was joking, although it got me pondering on a lovely thought; Pink and Kevin having the same bed time and both being put into night time protection, and all the fuss that entails, by Nanny Jimmy. Now that would be something to see.

However, I think it’s more likely that Pink’s constant parade of washed nappies and colourful pants hanging on the line is a reminder to his best mate what can happen if he doesn’t do as he’s told.

Paggs comes round occasionally, though never at the weekend. I found out from Alana, his oldest sister, what they do to him and I have to say I’m impressed by such devotion. When he does visit he appears more considerate, polite and wary of saying anything or speaking out of turn, a complete turnaround to how the noisy, disrespectful little runt used to be.

I knew from experience that the Paganini sisters were not that demure themselves. At school they had quite a reputation of taking no messing from other girls or boys. They had opinions and weren’t above fighting their corner, so where this new and improved brother came from I wasn’t sure. The little misogynist must have had a great deal of effort applied to make him behave as he now did. I never saw him dressed as a girl but my imagination has joyfully filled in that blank spot.


Pink was as good as gold at the wedding. In fact, for a few weeks now we’d all noticed a change. Mum’s punishment and continued discipline had certainly modified his behaviour because now he does as he’s told instantly with absolutely no argument at all. However, he was becoming bashful when meeting new people. Luckily he knew everyone at the ceremony, although for some reason seemed to be avoiding Uncle Peter.

Granny looked gorgeous and so happy, whilst Doctor Solomon could hardly get his words out he was so overcome with emotion. Emma and I were bridesmaids, whilst Pink and Bradley looked more like brothers and both wore nappies under their suits. I have no idea what my cousin had done but I saw them both in deep conversation and surreptitiously checking each other’s padding. I imagine mum and Aunty Pam had conspired together so that Pink wouldn’t be alone but that’s just me guessing. It could be Bradley had just been naughty or perhaps aunty was simply getting in early to stop him going the way Pink did.

At one point, after the service, I saw the newly wed speaking to the two boys. Both appeared nervous and looking at their shoes. Granny made Pink fetch the nappy bag from mum and then herded them both into another room. Granny obviously didn’t like the thought of wet boys suffering for too long and set about a very embarrassing few moments for our nappy wearers. The boys emerged after ten minutes or so looking bright red but I heard them timidly thanking gran for the change. I wish I’d been in the room to witness that event.

I saw gran whisper something to mum and aunty, which had them both chuckling and checking out their sons. Meanwhile, Pink and Bradley waddled over rearranging their protection because I could see gran had gone a bit overboard with the padding and was more visible than what they’d been wearing. It was fun to watch their combined discomfort as they tried to hide their enhanced bulge for the rest of the day, neither would have dared complain about gran’s treatment.

I’d like to think it was her payback on Pink for him swearing at the party. Poor Bradley caught in the cross-fire but that’s me just assuming he was an innocent bystander. Anyhow, the boys were now dry so all-in-all, it was a wonderful day.


I hadn’t seen Pink and family since gran’s party and although the thought of attending the wedding wasn’t at the top of my ‘things to do’ I thought it might be nice to catch up with him again. After the garden party mum filled me in a bit more about his punishment and that he wore a nappy all the time. I felt really sorry for him because I’d only been punished that way a couple of times... but then I went and did something stupid and found myself in a similar position.

The day before school broke up I had a fight with one of the kids in my class. It was a stupid, stupid thing to do because it was over a game; we weren’t even being taught anything at the time. However, our quarrel got out of hand, I saw red and lashed out. When the teacher tried to intervene I called her a word much worse than the one Pink had said to granny and when I got home I was in for it.

Mum and dad were both waiting and fuming.

I already knew what was coming because I’d learned from dad about the way his mum punished him... and I’d been warned that if I stepped out of line he and mum would treat me the same way. As I said, up until then I’d only rarely worn a nappy as punishment but knew things were going to change. The teacher had told them that I’d behaved worse than a “...screaming toddler having a temper tantrum”.

I’d never seen mum’s face contorted in such rage but I was about to find out about consequences.

“Miss Robins said you behaved like an out of control toddler... so young man... guess what? That’s just how you’re going to be treated. Perhaps you should look to Emma to see how a big girl conducts herself.”

I know I’ve got a bit of a temper and I easily get angry so I was furious at my teacher and my parents for their attitude. I stomped and banged doors, screamed and cried and I was so worked up made myself sick... it just made things worse.

It seemed a bloody stupid punishment but no matter what I said or did mum was definite that granny’s method was a really good way of dealing with unruly ‘little boys’ like me. If nothing else it was a reminder of what I’d said to Miss Robins. Being kept in nappies made me resentful of my five year old sister, so I was angry with her all the time as well, which didn’t help my case one bit.


When mum tried to put me in that first nappy for this offence I wasn’t in the least bit helpful and caused her no end of problems. Of course, I thought I was getting my own way when she stopped and grabbed my hand but quickly realised otherwise as she dragged me downstairs naked and thrust me into the street.

“You can spend the rest of the time naked as the day you were born as far as I’m concerned but if you come back in this house, you’ll wear what I say... it’s up to you.”

Although I was furious I was also aware of neighbourhood eyes on me and just a quick surreptitious look showed there were giggles and pointing from some who had heard the racket I was making. I begged mum to let me back in and I was crying in shame but she wanted my word that I would do as I was told. I just cried and begged but the door didn’t open for ten minute (which felt like hours) before I gave in and promised.

“If you give me any further trouble... you’ll be going everywhere naked and I don’t care what you school mates and friends say. Do I make myself clear?”

“Mum, please (sob)... please let me in... (sob) I promise.” I begged. This was too much embarrassment, I’d crossed a line way too far so it finally sunk in... I wasn’t going to get my own way.

Cowed, I went in and mum wasted no time in making sure I was tightly bound in a swathe of terry cotton. I cried all the way through the procedure but hoped this would be a short term thing. I thought I looked more ridiculous than I’d ever done before because of the thickness of the fabric but in the past it had only been for a day or so. I wasn’t to know that my behaviour had made it a more permanent arrangement.


I despised the constant padding and that a babyish rustle followed me everywhere I went. I know I shouldn’t have called the teacher what I had but this was way too much for such a little word. Anyway, mum and dad didn’t agree with my assessment so night and day I was wrapped in large fabric nappies that didn’t let me forget that tiny word.

“I’m going to make sure you never forget the repercussions for using that little four letter word.”

My protests and apologies fell on deaf ears as she slipped up a pair of plastic pants to cover the fabric and informed me that I was banned from going to the bathroom and I had to use the nappy. Although I’d had to do this before, for some reason, whether I had an instinct this time was different, it seemed a much greater punishment. I cried myself to sleep but, when I woke up dry mum wouldn’t let me change out of it until I’d soaked it good and proper.

She watched as I wet and messed in it and then left for about half an hour before she’d change me. By then I was really regretting what I’d said and begging for her to change what was going on. I even suggested a spanking but she just smiled and said I’d get used to it.

“That’s what a naughty baby gets when he swears and has a temper tantrum. Get used to it because a nappy is going to be with you for quite some time.”

Mum also wouldn’t let me stay at home on my own, so I was with her and Emma when she went anywhere. I tried to hide the padding but mum would slap my hand away if I was fiddling and trying to rearrange it because it had rode up or something.

“Leave it,” was her firm warning.

If I didn’t she’d explain to whoever was around that she couldn’t stay long as she had a wet little boy to change. They always looked at Emma first but then realising their mistake focused to her eleven year old brother who had turned crimson and was sulking.

“He’s always messing around with his nappy.” She’d leave that babyish nugget hanging, then turn back to me. “So, what have I just told you?”

“To leave it,” I’d reluctantly reply almost in tears.

“So, what are you going to do?”

The anger and resentment would be building up and mum knew it, she was waiting for me to explode and swear and I knew that if I did... a nappy would be the least of my worries.

Sorry.” I’d whisper apologetically.

It took a couple of weeks, and a host of nappies, for it to sink in that I was not going to get out of any of this until I reformed.

Whenever I did act up, mum would simply tell me she would change me in public if that’s what I wanted. That was my only opportunity to back down and apologise as quickly and as fervently as I could. Mum seemed satisfied once I was towing the line.

For the first two weeks I begged every morning as I was let out of one wet nappy only to be swaddled in another dry one for the ordeal to end. Neither of my parents looked like they were going to let me have my way and seemed determined to make sure I knew what I’d done.

The nappy appeared to get bulkier the more I complained and going out, wearing shorts and thick padding only made for further embarrassment if I started to fidget. I did overhear them talking about the fact that my cousin was still wearing a nappy and he’d had his for longer than I had. I dreaded having to wear one for that length of time so stopped much of my irritation.

Surprisingly, and much to my relief, although the nappy stayed, it wasn’t as thick or as obvious, though the plastic pants did seem to get noisier and more robust.

However, mum said the wedding was going to be a test and if I so much as spoke out of turn I’d be in nappies until I left home. I was also hoping that this would be the end of all this hassle so, eager to get on her good side I promised to be on my best behaviour.

“You’d better.” Was her unsympathetic reply as she forcefully wrapped me in sturdy terry cloth, pinned me in and shuffled a pair of crinkly see-thru plastic pants up my legs.

I was worried she was going to make me wear one of my old suits of jacket and shorts for the occasion but she let me wear the new one which had long trousers. Of course, no matter what I’d have worn the protection would still be there... and I hate these bloody things. How anyone, even babies, can put up with thick nappies and plastic pants I have no idea - they’re hot, uncomfortable and obscene.


I was glad to see Pink and hoped, as we appeared to be in the same boat that we could at least laugh about it. Alas, I thought his entire demeanour had changed. There was no life or fight about him like before and the fun element and slight defiance had all but disappeared. It was like he’d just given in. However, he did seem interested in the fact I was back wearing so we checked each other’s padding and I was surprised to see him wearing very childish cartoony plastic pants. I thought proudly that at least my mum kept to something ‘adult’.

I asked if he found it embarrassing when his mum changed him, did he have trouble, you know, keeping his body in check. He said he got over that problem fairly quickly, especially as the entire family was involved in his changes.

“Bloody hell, you mean... Penny changes your messy nappy?” I asked in disbelief.

He shrugged.

“Mum and her do it mostly, although dad... you know?”

I thought I had it hard with mum seeing me naked but Pink...

The wedding wasn’t too long but I still found it all pretty boring and I hate wearing a suit at the best of times, thankfully the trousers almost hid the bulk of the sweaty padding. Unlike gran’s garden party, when eventually there were over fifty friends and family all milling around, there were only about twenty or so of us present. I’d been told that after the ceremony we’d be going for a celebratory meal at a nearby hotel and my behaviour had to be “exemplary”.

From the ceremony we trooped the few hundred yards to the dining suit where a special private room had been arranged. It looked like the venue had made an effort with big bunches of flowers and gold and white balloons making the place look pretty festive. The food was ok but it was a sit down meal so you had to wait to be served - not as much fun as granny’s barbecue. Also there were such huge gaps between the different courses it seemed to take forever.

Whilst the grown-ups were all smiles and drinking wine Penny was keeping Emma and the other kids occupied with photographs and chasing some balloons that had come free. I asked Pink if he was wet because I’d had a secret pee whilst waiting for the main course. That was over half an hour ago and was getting a little uncomfortable. As we were chatting in the corner away from prying ears I suddenly realised Pink was quietly relieving himself.

Anyway, un-noticed by us granny came over and asked if we needed changing. We were like a couple of deer caught in headlights.

“I can check if you like.” She smiled.

Taken by surprise, and with the prospect of gran pulling down our pants for inspection, made us both admit we were wet. She sent Pink to get a large bag from his mum and then steered us down the hall to a small empty room off from the main area.


“Oh, er, gran,” Pink started to stumble over his words, “you don’t have to do it mum or Penny usually...”

I could tell he was as stunned as I was that gran was actually going to change us. No matter what arrangements Pink had... only mum had changed my wet nappies and even then I was filled with embarrassment when she did. The fact of gran, my granny, seeing me naked and wearing such babyish protection needed somehow to be avoided. I’m sure Pink was thinking the same.

We were both struck with wondering what to do to get out of this sticky situation but running away wasn’t an option... though I’m sure we’d both thought of it... I certainly had.

“Nonsense boys,” she smiled, “it’s not like I’ve never done it before.” Her grin widened, “Besides, it will only take a moment and then you two can be back playing with your little friends... eh?”

At the meal the ‘kids’ had a table of their own with Penny supervising. Pink was next oldest, then me and then the other five were under six so hardly the type of friends we’d play with but gran seemed to lump us all together.

We stood and looked terrified at each other as she opened the nappy bag and lay out a changing mat on top of a nearby table then motioned Pink to hop up.

“Really granny I can wait.”

“Don’t be silly sweetheart. I’m not going to see my favourite grandchildren standing around in wet clothes...” she beamed. “That just wouldn’t be nice... and not on this special day.”

The words ‘special day’ of course more or less meant that there was no chance of an argument. Gran had decided what needed doing so there was no point in putting off the inevitable.

Pink had one final attempt to dodge what was going to be a very humiliating situation.

“But gran, we don’t want you to get all...erm... dirty or ...”

I joined in. “Yes we’ll keep until later gran... er... we don’t want you to get your lovely dress all messy.”

“Bradley, you’re very thoughtful dear... and I thank you both for that but it’s really no trouble. You boys need a change and as someone has to do it... it might as well be me... I’m here now after all.”

She said all this as she pulled off Pink’s shoes, yanked down his trousers and began to remove his plastic pants all the while humming a cheery little ditty.

She smiled across at me and then looked down on Pink. “I used to do this all the time when you were babies and I’m sure it’s no different now. A wet nappy is a wet nappy after all... and best to get it changed as soon as possible.”

That reference to babies shut me up and Pink had gone quite mute as she unpinned his warm soaked nappy and cheerfully commented on just how wet he was.

“Oh sweetie... that’s a very soaked nappy... I’ll have to make sure you’re better protected and then you can last a bit longer between changes. That would be good wouldn’t it... eh?”

I stood mesmerised as I’d never seen another boy my age wearing a nappy. I mean, I’d seen Pink of course but now, close up and him being stripped... I was shocked at what was happening.

It didn’t seem in the least bit undignified to gran as she shoved the offending soaked item to one side and produced a small towel from the nearby bag.

She wiped and patted him dry around the crotch. Even when his lower half was naked I couldn’t take my eyes off his little cock and balls. I mean, he wasn’t little, well I don’t think so, I mean, they were about the same as mine but mine sometimes grows. I suppose Pink’s does too... only not with granny cleaning up that area. I was embarrassed but it was as if I was hypnotised. I stood there staring.


Granny was very efficient and had Pink wiped, cleaned, creamed and powdered in minutes. She then pulled out a couple of nappies and folded them together and inserted a couple of soaker pads and had him shuffle around to get them centralised before pushing his legs in the air and feeding the thick fabric between his legs. She straightened the material to make sure it had no undue creases before tightly pinning the entire bulk together.

The big blue pins took some working through the material but his expression throughout was one of no concern, which worried me.

It looked strange, his top half of shirt and tie was grown up, yet his lower half was so childish. I was hopeful I wouldn’t look like that... but who was I kidding?

She ripped open a new pack of plastic pants which were huge and had a similar blue childish pattern as his others.

“Oh sweetie, these are lovely aren’t they... all these cute teddy bears...”

She was part talking to Pink but mainly to herself as flapped them out and then shuffled them up to contain the hefty bulk that now surrounded him.

“There sweetheart, all done and you should be nice and dry for the rest of the day.” She smoothed out the plastic over the thick material underneath as a final check and then announced. “Okay Bradley... your turn.”

As Pink climbed down I saw him cautiously waddle over to collect his trousers, the shiny blue vinyl material making his bum look enormous and even more juvenile.

There was no way around it. Gran was going to do it and I’d simply have to suffer the indignity. I sighed to myself and took a deep breath before hopping up onto the warm plastic pad Pink had just vacated.

“Those plastic pants look lovely on you sweetie.” She said to Pink.

I disagreed because at least mine were not babyish. Was it strange that I felt more adult than Pink because of the difference in our plastic pants?

He turned and stood there with a sort of half smile, half grimace on his face. Obviously the idea of commenting one way or the other was not an option so turned to pick up his trousers.

Meanwhile, gran pulled down my trousers and plastic pants and commented on the fact that I shouldn’t stay in a wet nappy for too long as I’d get a rash. She then undid my shoes and, as she’d done with Pink, pulled everything completely off apart from my wet nappy.

“You boys and your nappies...” she appeared to be wistfully commenting to herself rather than to the humiliated boy lying out in front of her with no pants on. She inspected to see if I was getting a rash but I don’t think I was. Mum had been scrupulous in maintaining that area.

“Good to see your mothers are keeping their little boy’s bits and pieces hair-free and clean... it makes this so much easier.”

I could feel my entire body blazing with shame as I mentioned that mum had my stuff... but gran just shushed me and said I wasn’t to worry as she was sure nobody would mind if I borrowed some of Pink’s things.

To distract what was happening I looked over to Pink who was struggling to get his pants to fasten over the bulge. He’d managed it but only just and there was no denying what he was wearing under the thin material.


Gran followed the same procedure as before, tons of lotion and powder but when she pulled out the second nappy I said I normally only wore one.

I couldn’t believe I’d so easily fallen into that frame of mind ‘usually I only wear one’... I shouldn’t be accepting it I should be fighting it but... I couldn’t say anything to gran if I didn’t want things to get worse.

She smiled her all-encompassing loving smile and said that as this was a special occasion and, as I didn’t know when next I’d get a chance to be changed, it was best to take sensible precautions.

“Besides darling, you two are just too cute together - like peas in a pod.”

I didn’t dare say anything, not that I could have but I wanted to plead for something less bulky. Soon I was wearing exactly the same as Pink, even those stupidly childish cartoon plastic pants, which were enormous. I could have died of shame as, with equal difficulty, I buttoned up my trousers.

“There boys, all nice and padded... I bet you both feel a lot more comfortable now don’t you... eh?” She said with a satisfied look on her face as we both nodded shyly. “Let’s get back as I’m sure there’s some cake to be had.” Again she beamed her encouragement as if we should be more worried about missing some cake than what we were wearing.

I assumed we looked ridiculous but daren’t say anything so, as gran was packing stuff away, just whispered to Pink that I’d never worn anything so huge before. However, he said he was used to it and mumbled something about it being like he wore for bed. ‘Poor bugger’ I thought but now I was in the same boat and there was no hiding it.

She opened the door and led us back out into the festivities which had continued oblivious to what we’d just gone through.

“Now boys, I’m sure your parents have taught you some manners so... what do you say to someone who has just taken the trouble to change your very soggy underwear?”

Neither of us dare look around, we hoped no one noticed are bulging pants but gran was right... we hadn’t said anything and if that got back to our parents about bad manners we’d be in serious trouble.

“Thank you granny.” We mumbled in unison well aware of our expanded pants.


When mum changes me she doesn’t mess about. It’s chore that she wants to get over with as soon as possible but, as it is her that’s put me in protection in the first place, she makes sure I’m aware that it’s a punishment. The nappy gran had just removed was fabric, which because Pink wears fabric is the reason I now wear that style... our mums are always on the phone to each other. I’m sure that’s one of the reasons I’m now wearing a nappy.

I have to say, if I have to wear a nappy I’d prefer a disposable but because of the length of this punishment mum says it would be too expensive so... she bought fabric like aunty had for Pink. I wasn’t happy about this turn of events but Pink didn’t seem to mind, it was as if he was used to having no say in such things... mind you, these days nor had I. 

“That’s my pleasure sweethearts. Now go off and play I think Penny has some games over in that corner.” Granny said pointing to a cluster of kids and patted our well-padded bottoms to indicate we should move.

As we ambled over to Penny I thought I heard her murmur to herself something about ‘naughty boys make such sweet babies’ but I could be wrong.

Flooded with anger and shame, guilt and horror... there was nothing could we do.

Neither of us was comfortable and it was awkward as we waddled over to join in a game Penny had got the kids involved in. I noticed she was smirking and the younger kids just looked at us gobsmacked. The game was forgotten and we became the centre of attention from this little group who all seemed fascinated by the padding. They poked and prodded and asked to see what we had ‘down there’ whilst Penny seemed amused at our discomfort. On any other occasion I would have been angry at these kids but one look at the sly smile Emma had on her face reminded me of my promise to mum. I couldn’t risk doing or saying anything.


The other evening, when Pink was already in bed, mum actually confessed privately to me that she wished she’d come up with a different punishment than her nappy regime for him. It may have worked on Uncle Peter all those years back but now... it was too exhausting. Oddly, Pink’s reliance on nappies seemed to have crept up almost un-noticed by her, she’d been so intent on making sure he was well punished that important fact eluded her.

I said that over the past eight weeks or so I’d enjoyed playing the part of the concerned older sister but had been as surprised at just how much he needed to wear protection every night. She blamed it on the fact of going overboard making him feel like a toddler; insisting he was a baby, and generally forbidding him to act his age. The result - she now had an incontinent eleven year-old son. The daily washing line now contained many more nappies and dinky plastic pants than ever so she was feeling a little uncomfortable about it.

I tried to tell her she wasn’t to blame and to remember he’d been wetting the bed before those fateful shenanigans in the wood. I also pointed out that early on, once Pink came to understand that his complaints were ignored and had no say in anything, he seemed far more placid, especially when getting a nappy change. She’d turned his conduct around so should be proud not troubled. I could see mum was somewhat relieved by my support and hugged me in thanks.

Don’t get me wrong, we don’t treat him as a baby anymore and I don’t believe he’s regressed it’s just... well... he uses his nappy regularly. Even when mum stopped the punishment and gave him his underpants back it was a disaster. The poor lad was leaking everywhere and had stained pants in the most inappropriate places. She immediately saw her saturated mistake so it was a straight return to thick protection.

I’m not sure if Pink was grateful for their reappearance or not but we certainly saw less tears when he wet. However, we’re now trying to train him to use the bathroom and change himself. Although he hasn’t said anything, he does seem more than a little reluctant to get the job done right.  Oh yes, and something else that’s happened... he now sleeps with a teddy and plays with his old toys. Don’t ask me why, he just does. Perhaps he has regressed.

Personally, I never minded seeing him sneak around the house only wearing thick padding and colourful vinyl covers because they made him look quite endearing. It’s probably hard being an arrogant, self-centred, know-it-all when you have to rely on someone else to change your waterlogged, droopy nappy. Perversely, I still like having this version of my little brother and maybe mum does too.   

The reason I say that is because even in her recent bout of guilt she mentioned there was “one joyous thing to all this”. Bashfully she admitted to delight in seeing Pink innocently wearing his little cartoon plastic pants last thing at night and stretched by his soaked nappy first thing in the morning. Although they’d been bought initially to embarrass and hammer home his childish situation, now, she was of the opinion they seemed to work for him. There was no resentment, no words of anger, indeed, no attitude at all except the look of a lad wearing a wet nappy.

That was something else that has become abundantly obvious. As a result of this unusual punishment I’d noticed that neither mum nor dad have raised their voice even a little to get Pink to do as they ask.  I also think, as  time has gone on, mum has fallen back in love with her newly compliant son, who was getting to be hard work. They seem to get on better now than they’ve done for ages... the upshot is the atmosphere in the house being far more chilled for everyone.


For the last few days Pink’s been going through nappies like a new born. He has no control and I feel I’ve spent the best part of the each day cleaning him up, and getting him into something nice and fresh. I know he appreciates it because he now thanks me with a kiss on the cheek, which was something he used to rather die than do. However, that nervous stream of pee might cause problems once he’s back in lessons.

The first day of high school is rapidly approaching and because of how much Pink now uses nappies mum didn’t trust him not to wet his pants so bought some loose long trousers to hide the protective bulge. However, they didn’t work as it was still quite noticeable. She then bought him a onesie to fasten between his legs to hold everything firmly in so nothing sagged. It helped a bit but was still obvious. She finally settled back on those well-made and robust grey shorts combined with the onesie and that seemed to hide things the best - I wonder if that’s what’s causing him to mess more... anxiety about the new school?   

That first day of term is going to be a big step. Although senior school is large, with over fifteen hundred students, I suspect not only will Pink be the one still in shorts but also the solitary student wearing thick protection underneath. He’ll be in the youngest group, which unfortunately makes him more vulnerable. Although he’ll be joined by Jimmy and Paggs, from my own experience, though not at this school, he’s likely to find being different difficult even with such a big influx of new pupils.

The change from junior to senior school is quite dramatic. There are new pressures and expectations at all levels, which can be difficult to negotiate and take time. These days Pink is a much gentler soul and my prediction, because of his new surroundings, he’ll be relying on protection even more in those first few months. However, we are hopeful that by mixing with other kids and the new environment in general might help in him regain some daytime control at least.


Nevertheless, when it comes to the new term one of their number will be missing. Patrick, we eventually found out from his proud parents, has seriously discovered religion with his Cheltenham family and subsequently been enrolled in the sect’s own devout school.

They briefly extolled the principals and positives about the ‘private’ education he was now receiving “...away from horrible, common children”. So, whilst his parents seem relieved they no longer have to mix with neighbours they obviously saw as both intellectually and financially inferior, he has yet to be in touch with any of his friends.

I know the boys all missed him but his parents had steadfastly refused to give anyone any contact information.

“We don’t want his recovery and education jeopardised by the immorality that influenced him in the first place. So, no, you cannot have an address to write to him.”

Paggs was the last person to speak to him and that was over two months ago. I looked up on Google where the sect had its schools and there were four; two in the United States, one in Holland and the other on an island near the Hebrides in Scotland. We had no idea which one he was attending but hoped he’d be allowed to come and see us when on school holidays.


I suppose as Pink’s sister, because of my objections to his smelly room, I’d started him having to wear a nappy but it was mum that took up the battle of keeping him in one. It only struck me recently that granny’s way with Uncle Peter, and probably mum, having nappy discipline must have always been lodged somewhere in her mind. Why she’d never thought of using it until that night I don’t know, maybe she had but the memories had stopped her pursuing it.

Maybe it was that once she saw Pink wearing a nappy that the whole situation (and anger at what he and his friends had done) came to a head and made it a natural form of justice. However, once she got it into her head, I suspect my poor brother hadn’t known how to react and became quite overwhelmed by the zeal she pursued what followed.

Up until that moment it was bizarre how calm mum had been about his bedwetting and even more bizarre how intense was her punishment. Why she and dad let it go on for so long is also a little confusing but I suppose once she’d laid down the timescale she didn’t want to be seen as wishy-washy. She certainly wasn’t that but I do wonder what that sudden compulsion was influenced by... it can’t have been my rant surely?   


It’s been a strange few weeks since that ill-fated party in the woods. I don’t think any of the boys had any concept of how their eleven year-old lives would change as a result of mixing alcohol and eating out of date burgers. That messy weekend has led to an outcome I’m sure none of them would have wanted, but that’s how things have gone so only have themselves to blame.

Well, except maybe Patrick who, as far as we know and wherever he is, having found his vocation in Cheltenham, might actually be enjoying the life he’s chosen.


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