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Dummy?                                                                                                 by Les Lea

“Look Jason, you know you need it. How it relaxes you AND I know you’ve relied on it to get you through some tough times. So, all I’m saying is don’t give it up just because of your age. It would be silly to throw away something useful that’s got you to where you are now.”

Mum was making sense, she always did. I’d had my dum-dum, sorry dummy, since a child and throughout those years it had helped me stay calm when I thought I’d worry myself to death. She’d always insisted that the calming influence of sucking on a dummy was the best way to deal with stress and so, despite growing up, whenever I was faced with an anxious decision mum would produce one and leave it at the side of the bed to use ‘if needed’.

It’s amazing she’s able to find one that fit but how right she continues to be because the power of a little sucking still works. Where some of my school friends spiralled into early dabbling with drugs, drink or depression, I was still gaining comfort from a tiny piece of plastic with a silicon teat.

Mum always had one at hand but, when she saw me struggling and because of my reticence to rely on it as I grew older, would dig it from its hiding place and make sure I knew it was available.

Its magical appearance made me less shy about using it.  

Yes, I know it sounds stupid and makes me sound like a little kid and I suppose that’s why I’m hesitating to use one now. I’m eighteen and just about to start my first job and to say I’m terrified would be an understatement. It’s a huge leap from the relative ease of school to being at a place where responsibility goes without saying.

Don’t get me wrong. It’s a job that I wanted, in a company where I wanted to work and where I’d be using my limited skills in an area where I’m comfortable, but, I’m still worried I might fail. The reason for this sudden stock-take is that now I have a job I feel I should be more adult and thinking that being reliant on a dummy is a childish throwback so should be something I’m long past. Nevertheless, mum’s insistence that she’d rather see me with a dummy in my mouth than a can of beer or a ciggy has kept me focused on her reassuring words.


Mum and I are very close so I listen to what she has to say and she’s never steered me wrong. Of course she smothers me in affection and even at eighteen still does my laundry and irons my clothes. I’m lucky to have such a parent (dad having died when I was eight), who still wants to lavish all her love on me as I grow up.

Since dad died mum hasn’t needed to work. She’s taken the occasional part-time job but was always home to greet me on my return from school. Money wasn’t a problem as she had dad’s insurance and an inheritance that kept the two of us fairly independent of the need to work. However, I didn’t want to continue at school and when this job came up and I applied, I was so excited when they said I’d got it. Mum was proud of me as well but said not to rush into anything. But there was an overpowering need, in my head at least, that I just wanted to contribute even though I didn’t have to.

I know at my age I should be independent and I am, mum never puts restrictions on me and I’m allowed to be myself but she’s never stopped caring and although wants me to make my own decisions, she’s always there with words or actions or directions that help the situation.

“Mummy’s boy” is what some people may think, and I can’t say they’re wrong because we are very close. I think most people are who have lost someone significant become even closer but perhaps that’s just my experience. I know mum is protective without being over protective. As I say, I’m eighteen, about to start a job but really I’m at that stage in my life where I want to be adult but then think I prefer not to have to make decisions.

I’m five feet, seven inches tall, not very muscular and in some ways, the testosterone some of my school mates have coursing through their veins has yet to course too far around my body. Having said that, mum never complains, she lets me be me and thankfully, she quite likes who I am despite all the anxiety I bring to every situation. I’m a worrier.

I’m lucky because some of my mates have a horrendous time with their parents and can’t wait to get away from their clutches at the earliest opportunity, or are full of antagonism because things aren’t going their way.  It’s not like that with mum because I’ve never felt I was in competition with her. She leaves me to get on with my own stuff if I need the space but she’s there with a comforting cuddle if that’s what she feels I need. I should say mum always seems to know exactly what I need. So, over the years, a dummy has proved to be an effective way of keeping me from getting too uptight.

However, at eighteen, should I be relying on such a childish item?


Mum said that I had my dum-dum until I started school at five years old and only spasmodically from then until I started senior school and had homework, which apparently I got very stressed about. During that period she said that I only used one if I was ill or having trouble sleeping. So from being five until eleven years old I rarely used one... as far as I remember. Mind you, mum has been very noncommittal about my recollection on this point.

However, as far as I remember, there has always been a dummy available. Well, mum always had one available, as she thought it was a salve to whatever was ailing or upsetting me. She always knew it was time to resurrect my dum-dum because I’d be gnawing on my fingernails, chewing the end of pens or occasionally sucking my thumb. Apparently, once I started to worry about things at school, I worried about everything... and every little thing seemed to cause some anxiety.

There were times during that period where I know she’d slip it between my lips as I dozed and I’d automatically just nurse without realising I was doing so. Mum said it was a sure fire way of helping me cope with whatever was going on in my head and any restlessness often departed under its soothing influence.

That’s part of the reason mum thinks it’s silly to lose the benefits of it now. Being eighteen and about to start work she says is probably the time when I could well need it the most. She’s worried I would start fretting over its loss as well as anything else that might crop up at work to make me... well... unbelievably fretful.


Now, as you might have guessed, I’m a pretty anxious type of guy. I fret over many things both big and small though I have no idea why. It’s not like I’m in charge of events that shape the world, or even my home, but still I can get in a state over whether I’ve turned the gas off,  unplugged the TV at night or worried about some news story that I can do nothing about. Let alone worry about all the exams and tests I’ve taken at school over the years.

I have to say that these last few terms at school have been OK, except when exams were planned, but just the thought of such anxiety-driven things could set me off and into a spiral of worry that has nothing to do with what the original anxiety was about. Mad eh?

I needed my dummy every night when I revised and became troubled I wouldn’t know enough. That was despite the fact I always got reasonable grades and was pretty okay in tests. That didn’t stop me worrying all the time and thankfully, a soothing dummy helped me through it all. Though not whilst I sat the exams, that’s when the end of my pen acted as a substitute - I chewed through about a million of them.

Although, when I think about it, I wasn’t the only one sucking on their pen during exams so perhaps many others had access to a dummy away from school... when needed?


Whilst I’m being honest, also during those frantic times of revision, I needed a little bit of help elsewhere. Mum noticed that I’d have occasional leaks whilst I slept so required me to wear GoodNites. I couldn’t think of a good enough excuse not to, and they felt just like slightly padded underpants, so I had few objections. In the morning though, when I woke to find them quite expanded, I was glad mum had made me wear them. I wore them for several weeks and she was always on top of my problems. That was typical mum, always there giving me just what was required. I suppose she still does and that’s why she said I should hang on to the dummy until I’m certain I no longer want it.

The pull-up saga began one Friday night when mum and I were watching TV as usual. It was still in school term time and had been revising pretty heavily so this was a nice break. However, even though actually sitting my exams was a few days off over the last couple of nights I’d begun to fret over how well I’d do and this had produced one or two leaky mornings, which I’d tried to hide.

Mum drifted up to bed and an hour or so later I turned off the TV and ventured up myself. There on the bed was a pack of adult pull-ups and a pair of white vinyl pants. I wasn’t angry just wondered what I’d said or done that mum knew I needed such items because I thought I’d been pretty careful about leaving damp pants around. Anyway, it was too late to go and ask so ruefully stripped off my clothes and opened the package of a dozen pull-ups.

I stood there for some time wondering if I should or shouldn’t, although it was fairly obvious I would slip one on. I knew it was sensible, I knew they were practical and above all I knew mum wouldn’t have bought them and left them out if she didn’t think they’d be helpful.

Obviously, I was getting a bit anxious about this entire situation until I decided it would be for the best to at least try them for the night and see what happened.  Once I’d made the decision, and the fluffy, pale blue and yellow pull-up was in place, everything just felt right and I was able to relax. I wasn’t sure about the plastic pants but knew that if mum had left them out there was a reason. However, I didn’t feel I needed them at that moment as I stood and looked at myself in the mirror and hoped I’d made the right choice. There was an emblem of a car on the front, which although quite childish, I liked... it looked fun.

As I’d had a couple of near misses in the recent past realised a return to GoodNites for a few nights, might be a good idea but I didn’t want mum to think this was a regular occurrence. I mean, I don’t want to keep secrets from her but I know she’ll be there with another pack or two and I’m not sure those leaks are that bad (so, that’s just another thing I’m getting myself in a state over). I know it’s stupid worrying about worrying, especially if its worrying about something that doesn’t need worrying over... if that makes any sense at all?


Anyway, the GoodNites looked OK, just a bigger pair of underpants than I would normally wear and then it hit me how mum knew. Because she does my washing daily she must have discovered the various damp pairs of briefs at the bottom of the laundry hamper and put two and two together. Not a lot gets past mum. I smiled to myself because when I think about it mum probably knew about my little ‘mishaps’ long before I acknowledged the problem.

Anyway, after slipping a t-shirt over my head I crawled under the covers and the padding didn’t feel at all intrusive. It hugged my bits and pieces nicely, felt warm and thick, and I thought no more about it as amazingly I quickly fell asleep.

I say amazingly because, for the last week or so, once I knew I had the job and the start date drew nearer, I’d been quite anxious turning over and over in my head just what I’d be doing. Still at school but knowing I’d be losing a few friends once I left was more than a little upsetting. Anyway, it was stressful enough for me to need my dum-dum to suck on before sleep, which thankfully had the desired effect of helping soothe away such worries. However, this time I’d fallen asleep without even thinking about my new employment looming, being distracted by the feel of the GoodNite (it actually felt really comforting), and had no need of a dummy so... all seemed good.

That was until I woke up soaked, the pull-up had leaked a bit and there were occasional wet patches on the sheets. Not enough to soak everything but enough to show I’d peed my protective pants yet again.

As I was pulling off the sheets mum came in and saw me standing there in a soaked pull-up and damp sheets.

“Forgot the plastic pants, eh?” There was mild accusation in her question but I knew from the tone she wasn’t angry just a bit sad that I hadn’t taken to the full idea of night time security.

“Perhaps tonight?” She raised the question as she took the sheets from me and I nodded in agreement but felt foolish for not doing so in the first place.

That was the end of the discussion. I knew mum wouldn’t make a big thing about it now she knew I’d take special care and, as I looked again in the mirror, I saw the thicker padding bulging out and boldly hanging onto my hips.


I think I need to add a bit of an explanation here.

When I was sixteen I sat my ‘O’ levels and did pretty well (anxieties aside) and got top grades in seven of them. Now I was sitting my ‘A’ levels, which were, as you might expect, more advanced than previous exams, so the pressure was even more.

However, during that time I’d applied for a job and got it despite not having actually sat my exams as yet. Now the job didn’t rely on the results of my ‘A’ levels, they’d be a bonus but of course, being me, I wanted to do well. So, with the job looming, I’d only have a few days between finishing my exams and starting, that put even more pressure on me with the result... extra-curricular peeing.

So mum was correct in getting me some extra protection.


I took a shower and when I returned mum had put on clean sheets and remade my bed but left the plastic pants on the pillow to make sure I remembered when I next went to bed. Not very subtle but I smiled anyway as I could imagine her thinking I wouldn’t miss such a deliberate hint.

I threw on a pair of briefs and some shorts as I was meeting a bunch of guys in the park for a kick around and made my way downstairs.

“Billy called earlier,” mum said, “he and Mark can’t come.”

“Did they say why?”

“No but he didn’t sound happy about it. However, you know them better than me... perhaps you should call them.”

I did wonder why they hadn’t called me on my mobile but used the landline. I mean, who uses that these days but I knew their parents were pretty strict and although Billy was only a year younger than me, and his brother Mark was fifteen, they were kept on a pretty tight leash. One of the ways their parents punished them was not allowing them to have a mobile phone “... a ridiculous and extravagant expense” Billy told me they said when he and his brother asked for one at Christmas – they got underwear and jumpers instead. In fact, their mum and dad buy all their clothes and they are allowed no say at all in what they wear.

Again I was thankful to have a mum like mine because although some of my friends had terrible, uncaring parents, Billy and Mark’s parents were absolute sticklers about their behaviour and any transgression, no matter how minor (or appeared minor to anyone else) was dealt with severely. Over the years I’d seen both Mark and Billy crying because their father had given them a sound belting as a result of some misdemeanour or other. I liked both lads but they were completely terrified of their parents, which I thought was no way to be. I decided it best not to call in case I made things worse.

“I’ll go to the park anyway, I’m sure they’ll be some of the guys around so...”

“Okay love, do you want a lift as I’m popping into town in a minute so it’s on my way?” Mum was already searching for her bag and keys.

“Sure, thanks. Do you need me to do anything when I get back?” I hoped I sounded helpful seeing as how she’s washed my sheets and they were out billowing on the line already.

“Peal some potatoes if you fancy. No, on second thoughts, I’m not sure what we’re having for tea tonight so hold fire on that. Just fold the sheets if they’re dry... that would be nice.”

“Okay.” And with that we set off.


James, Kili and Ralph were at the park when I arrived but none of them seemed to know what the problem was with Billy and Mark. We were all very aware of the Draconian dictatorship the brothers lived under and that just being near Mr and Mrs Edwards was quite an ordeal. The boys knew every little thing they did was being scrutinised, noted and would be used against them at some point, or at least that’s how it looked. We all kept as far away from their parents as we could because you felt like you were being analysed and generally disapproved of.

Meanwhile, back in the park we were chatting and kicking a ball around for over an hour when I suddenly realised that my shorts were wet. It seemed a phantom pee because I had no idea that’s what I was doing. I’d only put a pair of cotton briefs on so there was very little protection and I knew my polyester football shorts would hardly soak stuff up. I looked down and I could see the damp spot enlarge so made up some excuse for having to leave in a hurry. I just hoped, as I had my back to the guys and said my good-bye, none of them noticed.

“You OK Jase?” Kili called out.

“Yep, just didn’t realise the time, I have to get home... see you guys later, okay?”

I walked home with my hand over the front of my shorts (and wished I’d worn the black instead of the white pair) and, as I passed people, sort of moved sideways so as to avoid their gaze and hopefully so they couldn’t see my accident. When I checked again the damp spot had turned the shorts into an off-yellow, transparent disaster zone but as I had nothing else to wear had to put up with it. Even the t-shirt I was wearing wasn’t long enough to hide much of the stain so I started to jog home hoping that by rushing past fellow pedestrians, they wouldn’t have time to notice. I didn’t stop to find out.

Back at the house I was relieved mum wasn’t in and didn’t have to make up an excuse. I could put my stuff on to wash and no one would be any the wiser. So, that’s just what I did, changing into a fresh pair of briefs and jeans before setting the machine going.

I made myself a bowl of soup for lunch and toasted a couple of slices of bread to dip, a glass of fresh cold milk, mmm lovely.

After lunch I checked the sheets on the line out in the garden and they were almost dry but thought could do with a bit longer so waited in front of the telly until my washing had finished.

I woke up to find mum shaking me.

“Wake up Jason, c’mon love, you need to get up.” She was shaking my shoulder and I sort of shook myself awake surprised that I’d fallen asleep. “You need to change love.”

I still wasn’t quite with it and wondered why she was being so insistent.

“Love, you’ve wet your pants.”

“Erm, what, er, um....”

“Just go and change love and I suggest you clean yourself up pretty carefully. Oh, and take off your jeans and undies and I’ll put them on to wash.”


Now sweetheart I don’t want you dribbling through the house.”

So under mum’s watchful and reproachful stare I slowly slid down the offending wet clothes and hid my junk behind my t-shirt.

“Oh, and the shirt love it looks wet at the back.” So that was the end of my modesty.


She watched as my naked little bum made its way upstairs and into the bathroom.

“The sofa seems fine...” She called out after me but I was too embarrassed to hear any more as I hurried to the bathroom.

After the shower I headed to my bedroom but mum was waiting.

“Sweetie, are you having problems?” I shook my head no. “Really?”  She questioned in disbelief.

She held up my now clean footie shorts and briefs.

“Erm yer, I, umm,” I stammered for a good excuse but the lie evaded me and I was stuck with the truth. Mum had already sussed what had happened so it seemed stupid to deny it.

“Yer, I had a bit of an accident on my way home from the park.” I didn’t want to tell her I was with my mates at the time.

“Oh, poor you,” she gave me a gentle hug. “And now you’ve peed you pants for a second time today...” She left that hanging in the air. “So, what are we to do?”

I shrugged.

“Well, why not put one of your pull-ups on for the time being whilst we sort this out.”

“But they’re for nights.” I tried to argue unconvincingly.

“Right now sweetie... they for you to be safe... so,” and she produced one from behind her back.

“You had this ready.” I was ashamed that my ‘problem’ had come to this.

“Just put it on Jason... you know it’s what’s needed at the moment.... and then, if you want, we can chat about the way things are going.”

“But I don’t want...”

“Oh and don’t forget the plastic pants... please be sensible and put them on as well.”

I’m eighteen, yet at that moment I felt like a stupid little kid who needed his mummy to look after him. I felt like mum was making a point, the plain white plastic pants were still on my pillow. Meanwhile she made it known that there were extra pairs of vinyl pants in my top drawer. Mum wanted me to know she’d bought a supply and that they were there to be used. Of course the choice would be mine.

I was also angry with myself for falling asleep and letting things unfold without my involvement. I mean, I should have been able to wash a pair of undies and shorts and not leave them as evidence AND, I should be able to fall asleep and not wet my pants.... so all in all, I was pretty pissed off (literally) with myself.


The main point however was the fact that I had no idea why I wet in broad day light. I hadn’t felt overly stressed, I’d been playing footy so had no thoughts of anything else. As the starting day for the job approached, although scary, I hadn’t given that much thought either and yet, I was obviously anxious about something. The reason eluded me so at that moment I thought it better to go along with mum’s suggestion.

It didn’t ‘ping’ in my head at the time as it was only later when I thought about it. However, when I fell asleep in front of the TV I’d been thinking about Billy and Mark’s parents. I thought they were somehow mine and I was constantly scared and under suspicion. How I’d hate to be under their jurisdiction so wondered if that had caused the unexpected flow – anxiety about them?

Of course, I pulled up the pull-up and grabbed the new vinyl pants and went and found a loose pair of shorts. I checked in the mirror and, although I knew what I was wearing underneath, I didn’t think it showed at all. So that alleviated some of my initial worries right away.

I stood a moment thinking. I mean, this wasn’t the first time I’d wet my pants whilst being grown up. In fact, quite often, when I got anxious there was a little trickle in my undies. As I’ve mentioned before, I’d often try to hide that fact though it now appeared to be not much of a secret. So, as I looked at the slight bulge under my shorts I could feel the thickness of the pull-up, whilst even the slightest movement made me aware of the slipperiness of the plastic pants.

Then I began to wonder if the concern and wetting were linked. Or was it just that if I wet I got the comforting hug of protection and that made me feel safe... not unlike the dummy? I was asking myself questions I couldn’t answer and then began to worry about that fact. I looked in my bedside cabinet and saw my dummy waiting to help me over this confusing process but on this occasion I left it and returned to mum in the living room. I had to admit that the padded pull-up the previous night had been a revelation because it had been so comfy and relaxing.


Mum had made us both a cup of tea and was sitting on the sofa waiting.

“Sorry mum.” I thought I’d better get in first. “I didn’t mean for...well... any of this.” And I pointed to my groin, so there was no doubt as to what I meant.

“I know love.” She said in her usual loving tone and invited me to sit next to her.

She looked tenderly into my eyes. “I know you’re at a crossroads sweetheart. Job, future and friends all pulling in various ways and that seems to be having quite an effect on you.”

I shrugged but knew she was probably correct in her observation... although it didn’t feel quite like that.

“The dummy and the pull-ups..? Both of which we know have you wondering if you’re not too old for such things.” As usual she was reading my mind. “I’m sure it’s making you uncomfortable to know that at your age you’re using them.”

I slowly nodded in agreement.

“But, and I can’t stress this enough love. What are the alternatives, hmmm?

I looked down at the floor hoping for something, inspiration of some kind, to answer this question.

“I think, and I may be wrong,” she started slowly whilst stroking my arm, “that you are over worrying about things. You know you’re going to be brilliant at your job AND you know that no one really knows what the future holds. Thankfully you’ve got a pretty good start with the direction you want to go.”

I know mum was trying to help, and usually she does but I had a sudden chilling shiver run down my spine which caught me unawares and I realised that it was more than that.

“Mum, that’s just it, I don’t know that. What’s worse, when I think of the future and look around at my mates, the news, the climate... everything, I’m petrified.”

“Oh Jason.” She hugged me close and patted my back.

“I’ve always been scared and I don’t know why. Mum, what if I fail?” I could feel the worry unexpectedly building from what appeared to be no basis. I was almost hyperventilating with stress. “What if I’m hopeless at this job and they see I’m just a fake, a stupid boy who should never have got it in the first place... mum, what if...”

She was holding me tightly but then it all poured out.

“None of my friends have jobs yet and those going to Uni are only going because they can’t face the prospect or work. I see some of the older kids who used to go to my school and they’re in gangs or just not functioning... what if that’s me in a month’s time?”

As far as I knew these reservations had never been at the forefront of my brain and yet, all this came streaming out easily, as if I’d been thinking about it for ages and it caused me immense pain.

“But love, it’s not everybody,” she tried to reassure me, “I’m sure some are successful and just getting on with life... and not worrying...”

“But what if it is me? What if I can’t hack it and fail?”

Panic in what I was saying suddenly took over my body and I was shaking.

“Now sweetie, stop this.” She hugged me tightly and although I had my eyes screwed up to try and hold back the tears... they were imminent. “C’mon love, take this,” I felt her gently push something between my lips, “and let those unnecessary worries go.”

Without even giving it a thought I took the dummy in and began to suck. Mum continued to hold me and stroke my back and I began to relax.

“I have every faith in you love. I don’t think you’ll fail because you’re bright, good natured and above all, dedicated.” She hugged me all through her little speech and in truth it did make me feel better. “Don’t worry about things you have no control over... you’ll do fine dealing with those you have.” She buried her face in my mop of hair and kissed the top of my head.

It’s amazing that mum’s reassuring cuddle was all I really needed to instantly relax me but she added more.

“Look love... just lie out, close your eyes and unwind. Let go of all your thoughts and let the rhythm of your dummy calm and comfort you.”

I did as she said and she left me to it. It always worked and within seconds I was dozing and drifted into a warm black hole. Nothing coming in, nothing going out - all I could hear was the gentle pulse of my heartbeat which seemed to be in sync with my sucking.

I felt all warm and cosy. This was a really nice place to be and I wriggled trying to get deeper within its comforting mental fabric, which was also soft, fluffy and welcoming. Nothing could touch me here. Nothing pricked my mind with thoughts or doubts. I sucked and sucked, I was safe.


Far off I could hear a voice. I strained to hear what was being said but I couldn’t grasp the meaning.

The voice got louder and eventually there was a tug on my shoulder.

“Wake up love, your tea’s on the table and you won’t sleep tonight.”

It was mum once again shaking me back to the real world. I was still sucking on the dummy and I could feel something else. Oh yes, my pull-up felt bloated.

“Are you OK sweetheart?” Mum smiled concern.

“Olggghh” I began to speak but realised I still had the dummy in. I took it out. “Yes, just a bit groggy.”

I didn’t know if she knew what had happened but I’d obviously slept quite deeply and filled the front of my pull-up. “I’ll just be a second I’ve just got to... you know..?”

“OK, don’t be long it’s already on the table and will get cold. If you’re going to be a while I’ll shove it in the oven.”

I slid a hand down the front of my shorts to do a quick inspection and through the glassy plastic could feel the ruined underwear. I thought I’ll need something stronger and more absorbent in future. I was in two minds whether to change but decided it could wait until I’d eaten and then I’d have more time to see exactly what needed to be done to rectify the situation.

I tentatively waddled to the kitchen where mum had made lasagne with what smelled like a freshly baked baguette to dip in the sauce. As I sat down there was a noise that made mum look but didn’t say anything. Although it wasn’t the first time I’d sat in a wet pull-up on this occasion I didn’t realise just how uncomfortable it’d be. Mum saw me wriggling and after we finished looked apprehensive.

“Oh darling... another accident?”

Although mum knows all about my ‘anxiety issues’ what came next was a bit of a surprise as she’d even guessed that the pull-up might not be strong enough.

“Look love, I’ve bought somethings a little more absorbent if you feel able to wear them.”


She moved to the cupboard under the sink and produced a pack of ‘Durable Slips’, which was a brand of disposables I’d heard of - thick protection designed for heavy wetters. I’d seen the adverts in newspapers and online on many occasions. I suspect mum had seen the same and anticipated that I might need them over the coming few weeks as I settled into my new job. She probably guessed that I would have issues like I frequently do.

“Don’t you think that’s going a bit too far?” I queried but not really believing my own words.

“Well sweetheart, I suspect that the idea has already occurred to you (how did she know?). But, thought I’d get them just in case... of course, it’s up to you whether you want to try them or not.”

This had always been the situation. Mum never forced me into anything. She would advise and tell my why she was making any suggestion but it was always up to me to try and sort things out. She just made sure I had the tools needed and then it was up to me to use if it felt right to do so. Mum and I are close but I’ve always appreciated the independence (with care) she gave me even as a child and continues to lovingly supply.

The thing is... I have, on several occasions in the past, found comfort in wearing padding. I’ve fooled myself that I’ve hidden those desires well but the purchase of these Durable Slips indicates she’s had some idea all along. Maybe I’ve just been fooling myself and have even less secrets than I thought or I’m just rubbish at hiding my true self. Either way, mum’s on the case and I’m appreciative of all she does for me. When bedtime comes, I’ll be wearing those durables with vinyl pants over them. I won’t be taking any chances again.

A few days later, and when the pack of Durables had almost been used, mum said something I wasn’t expecting at all.

# tbc #


Part 2

“Jason, do you like to wear nappies?”

She didn’t ask if I liked these Durable nappies in particular it was more a general enquiry.

The question took me by surprise because, although we’re pretty straight with each other, that query seemed to come out of nowhere. I suppose that’s silly really. After all that’s happened over the years and more especially over the last few weeks you’d think I’d have some inkling mum might think that way.

“Errmmm,” was how I answered.

There was no accusation to her enquiry and no sense that she wanted to trip me up if I answered a certain way. Mum wasn’t like that but I could tell she thought it might be a possibility. So even if I wasn’t sure, she certainly suspected it might be the case.

Mum’s eh?

Now then, admission time - since mum got me those Durable Slips (disposable nappies) I have in fact worn them more often than not. The reason being that when I didn’t wear them I felt vulnerable and the vulnerability meant I leaked. I know, I know, there’s no reason at all that the two things should be linked and I’ve had this discussion with myself and mum... and she just hugs me and says, ... “it’s always best to be on the safe side.”

Eighteen and wearing nappies and rather substantial rubber pants. I’m sure it wouldn’t be ideal for most teenagers and I’d like to think I’m not fine with it either, except it appears I am.

“Well sweetheart, do you?”

I wasn’t going to get out of this with a shrug and vagueness so I nodded. I didn’t think, considering the circumstances, I could deny the fact. Especially as I say, I was wearing a rather thick nappy and a pair of nappy-hugging vinyl pants at that moment.

“Erm... maybe I don’t mind.”

“Look love, it’s alright by me, I don’t have a problem with any way you choose to dress. I just want to make sure you have everything you need and aren’t worried about anything.”

Well, I was worried a little about the direction this conversation was going but mum knew me too well and I couldn’t just walk away.

“Like what?” I shrugged unable to think of anything... well, anything specific.

“Well, for instance. Do you have the right creams and lotions to prevent nappy rash? Maybe you’d like to wear something different and are scared to buy it or ask me to get it for you? Perhaps you’re not happy that it’s something you like and feel, well, guilty. I don’t exactly know, but, I want you to know that I’ll support you in any way I can and, as with everything else, you can depend on me.”

Now, that was a nice little speech. I’ve never doubted mum for a second... ever... and I still don’t but she was making things sound official whereas I still thought of it as my anxiety and I’d eventually be over it. She popped the dummy between my lips and hugged me close.

“I want my baby boy to be happy and if that means he wears nappies then so be it.”

I could have just carried on sucking and let mum’s warmth and love engulf me but I wanted to explain a little bit even if I was unsure what I was going to say next.

I removed the dummy.

“Mum, I don’t know... I mean... uuummmm... since you bought these,” I ran my hands over the Durable, “I’ve felt much calmer but I still end up soaking them and don’t seem to have any control over that... I don’t understand why.”

I was dubious about looking at mum to see if she had an explanation but she just patted my padded bottom and hugged me some more.

“Look love,” she took a deep breath. “There have been times, throughout your life,” she rubbed the front of my bulging nappy and pointed to my dummy, “when certain items have brought you comfort in trying times.”

It was true... and she gently reinserted the dummy to where it belonged.

“I don’t know if I’ve told you this but it was your father’s idea to let you keep the dummy.”

I looked up at her as this was entirely new information.

“Not that I was against it but was always told by his mother, your Granny, that it helped through anxious times when he was young, so no one should belittle a dummy’s use. It was him not me that made sure you always had one nearby just in case you needed it. So, as it never bothered him when it helped calm you down it never bothered me. I could see the sense in what your Grandmother advised because it worked.”

How come I’d waited eighteen years to hear this tiny, but influential, piece of my history? My dum-dum appeared to have played a more important part in my life than I’d previously given it credit for. I mean, Granny had never mentioned it, dad never mentioned it, so how come mum’s only mentioning it now?

We didn’t see Granny that much these days because she retired to a home on the south coast where she seems very happy. However, when we do get a chance to visit she’s always keen that I’m happy and loves to hug and pat me all the time. I never thought about it before but wondered if she’s checking if I’m padded.  

My reaction to this news was I simply sighed because the thought of dad not being here was always a sad thought that got my emotions all tangled up and I’d find myself sobbing (and sometimes peeing).

Perhaps dad was responsible because he knew, or suspected, I was like him and got anxious about anything and everything. But that didn’t explain why now I was wearing nappies and apparently not that worried about doing so... or maybe I was and that’s why I wet them. A sort of circle; one thing leading to another, leading to another and eventually ending up back where I started?   

I was more than a little confused and wondered why this little titbit of information had never been revealed before. It’s not like there had never been an opportunity but that would have to wait because I had something else on my mind.

I began to wonder about mum’s words “I want my baby boy to be happy” I mean, I’m hardly a baby but, with the way things have gone, is that how she now sees me?

“People have different needs,” she continued but looked sombre. “When your father died... I found it very difficult to cope. The sudden loss of my wonderful husband hit me hard but the thing I was grateful for... I had you.”

She hugged tightly.

“My worry then was how would you cope? You were eight and struggling with the loss as well but, and you may not have been aware of it, you were strong and I believe you knew I wasn’t coping so made every effort to relieve my suffering,” stroking my head as she often did when wanting to make a loving point. “It was you and the things you did and said that kept me from... well... I don’t know what... but you lifted me from the depths of great depression and...”

Maaawwwmm.” I said emotionally through the dummy. I didn’t want her to get depressed as she remembered dad’s death.

“You did love.” She perked up a bit. “Things like bringing some little flowers you’d picked. Or a drawing of me, you and dad you’d done at school. There were several times when I was at my most, well, depressed doesn’t really cover it but I was down and you, my little flower, bounced me right back. It wasn’t your job to lift me up but you did and for that I’m eternally grateful.”

I was trying to hide the fact that I was weeping but I looked up and saw mum had tears in her eyes as well.

“You managed your own grief by sucking on your dum-dum and the picture of you doing that made me less stressed because you looked so sweet and innocent. I don’t know exactly why but it did... and we became even closer. Perhaps because it had been your dad’s idea and it felt, in some way, he was still with us when you popped it in.” She shrugged, as if partly dismissing the very notion.

I wondered if it was a thought that had just popped into her head or was there more to it. Is this why she’s happy for me to use the dummy, and whatever else, because it brings back memories of dad? Did I have a residual memory of it happening and that’s why I do it now? Have I used the dummy so much I’m now reliant on it to solve all my problems?

Maawwmmm,” and we hugged tightly together for what seemed ages. The front of my nappy warmed slightly as a similar feeling grew throughout my body.


“Mum, what did you mean you wanted your baby boy to be happy?” I eventually asked.

“Just what I say sweetheart,” she patted my padding.

“But mum, I’m eighteen... hardly a baby boy.”

“Oh sweetheart... look... you’ve always been my baby, I’ve never stopped calling you that, or love, or darling, or loads of other pet names I have for you.”

“But baby boy?”

“Well love,” she said emphasising the word love, “You’ll always be my baby because it doesn’t matter whether your eighteen months, eight, or eighteen years old... you will remain my baby boy. So, you can look forward to your thirty-eighth and forty-eighth birthdays and I’ll still be calling you my baby.”

“Oh,” I said a little defensively, “it just seemed that because I’m wearing a nappy you thought, umm, or I thought, ermmm, you might think.... mmmm...”

“No love, it’s not meant in a negative way and I’m not trying to baby you. Mother’s always think of their kids as their babies... and it has nothing to do with whether you wear a nappy or not. It’s the way mum’s especially think of their children.” She smiled her reassurance. “They will always be their babies who need love and looking after no matter how old and independent they become. It’s what a mum does.”

“OK, thanks mum.”

“No, thank you my sweet baby boy.” She chuckled as I was released from her hug.

I just oozed contentment from behind my dummy as we got back to being ourselves the warmth in my nappy adding to my sense of wellbeing.


Although I’d taken mum to task for calling me a baby, no matter how innocently, the term entered my head but any resentment about the word quickly faded to one of acceptance. Now, before anyone jumps to the wrong conclusion, I didn’t want to be treated as a baby, I just accepted that to mum, I would always be her baby boy. Maybe it helped in that understanding because I was wearing a nappy and sucking on my dummy, though I’d like to think not - although that is perhaps a little naïve of me.

In a couple of days I’d be starting work and my childhood would be behind me... perhaps that was a bigger jump than I thought it would be. Maybe, all this nappy business was a reaction, an unintentional, emotional reaction, to that very fact. Unfortunately, that’s what was going through my mind when I realised I was filling the nappy yet again. The amount of warm pee making me once more glad I was wearing protection.

I began to think of what mum said about how anxiety often got the better of dad when he was growing up and I wondered if perhaps he’d also had problems with unexpectedly wet pants.

“Mum, was dad full of anxiety like me?” I tried to make it sound like a natural question but could tell it was quite loaded.

Mum sighed. “Yes love he was anxious most of his life. His anxiety made him question everything and check and re-check whatever he was doing.”

“Am I really that much like dad?”

“I think so sweetheart, I think so.” She nodded and sniffed back a sob. “Your father was one of the best - a loving dad and husband but he worried. At times I saw the anxiety etched on his face though he tried to hide it. He didn’t always talk about it, which I wish he had, maybe I could have helped but...”

The rest was left unsaid.

I wanted to ask if he wet himself but for some reason thought such a question would somehow tarnish his memory.

I wandered back up to my room to change and noticed that I was down to my last couple of Durables, although I still had a selection of pull-ups left. I changed to a pull-up and plastic pants under my jeans and, thinking to change the mood I’d left, told her that I was nearly out of disposables.

“Yes love,” she bucked up immediately, “I noticed that so I’ve already ordered some more and they’ll be with us first thing tomorrow so don’t worry.” She was grateful we had something else to talk about.

“Oh, erm, thanks mum... did you think I’d need some more?”

“Well sweetie, you’re going through them pretty quickly and I noticed you were nearly out so I was just thinking ahead. I’ve never ordered online before so this was a first.”

“I suppose if they don’t arrive I can always pop along to the pharmacy for some.” I offered as a helpful suggestion.

“Yes, although they did promise delivery... I even have a 10.30am time slot... which I thought was quite splendid.” She checked her phone as if to reassure herself.


At 10.47 the following day a delivery van pulled up outside our house and a small, wiry driver, wearing a brown polyester shirt and shorts, struggled up the pathway pushing a huge box on a trolley.

Mum answered the door and signed something. I think she found the entire process new and exciting.

“Well, the delivery people are very efficient aren’t they? Only a few minutes late and I’ve even got a message on my phone to say ‘your package is on its way’ and here it is... amazing.”

Mum was impressed and I knew she was making a mental note about using the facility again at some point. However, all I could think was ‘what an awfully big box full of nappies’. She must be expecting me to need them for the rest of my life.

I manoeuvred it into the front room where mum had gone and retrieved a knife from the kitchen to slit the taped seal. She looked excited and once the thing was open I could see why. She’d ordered a plethora of disposables in all colours, some with childish designs on them. Plus more plastic pants, large terry type nappies and a couple of onesies.

“What the hell mum!” I was angry because this all looked so bloody infantile and made a lie about her comment about me being her baby boy. “I can’t wear any of this it’s, it’s, it’s.... bloody hell mum, what were you thinking?”

Mum looked quite shocked at my reaction. “Sorry love I guess I got carried away. I mean,” she held up one of the packs of colourful cartoon disposables, “they said in the advert on the site that these were thicker and absorbed more than any other and I just thought you deserved the best. It didn’t occur to me that, as no one else would see them, you’d be all that worried about the pattern.”

“But mum,” I whined a little but she’d taken the wind out of my argument and anger by saying she only wanted the best for me. However, these really did look childish so I wondered where the hell she’d bought them... what site had she been on?

“It’s OK Jason, look, what you don’t want we can send back... no problem. It said that as long as the packages are intact...”

“And what’s the idea with these?” I held up the onesies in disgust.

“Well, you’re starting work soon and, from experience, if you wear a nappy, to prevent it sagging, a onesie that fastens there,” she pointed to my crotch, “holds it up and in place and more-or-less prevents drooping from happening.”

“Ohh, I see, ermmm...” Again, mum had been thinking ahead and I was seething because I thought she was, well, you know. “Sorry mum, I just thought...” I shrugged and felt a fool.

I don’t know why I’d let the term ‘baby boy’ become so important. I thought I’d got past it but it irked and annoyed and... I just didn’t like it because, well, it made me feel like that’s what I was becoming.

Then it struck me. That was it. It was me who was worried about the expression, not mum using it. I was worried that nappies and a dummy at eighteen meant I was still a baby even though I had no desire to be that... at least that’s what I think.

“We’ve been through this.” Mum was looking a bit exasperated. “Why would I want to make you feel self-conscious about any of this? I just want what’s best for you and as you’re having enough anxiety thinking about the job I hoped I could relieve some of it by taking on the easy bit... getting you a fresh supply for when you need it. The site I found offered loads of stuff for a growing lad who might need a bit of help,” she pointed to my groin, “in that particular area.”

Mum looked a bit hurt at me being angry with her. Of course she didn’t shout or create she just got on with things. Thinking about it I should be grateful for her being so thoughtful.

I’m an idiot.


We emptied the box and did an inventory of what she’d bought. I was impressed because there were plenty of disposables and the new fabric nappies felt really soft and thick. The plastic pants were in a variety of colours and even a couple of new dummies should I want them. All-in-all mum had in enough supplies to last for a few months if things didn’t improve once I started work.

It was strange but after mum had said she only wanted what was best for me I sort of went along with all these things, I mean they were all fantastic and her enthusiasm for each product had us giggling at just how thick the cartoon disposables might end up being.

However, I don’t think mum was of the opinion I’d be out of nappies anytime soon. She’d asked if I liked wearing them and I’d admitted to doing so... I didn’t think I could deny it. She was actually supplying me with the very thing I needed, even before I really accepted that fact myself. Mum was always ahead of the game and couldn’t have been nicer or more prepared about it

“Look love,” she shrugged but smiled, “I don’t know for definite you’re going to need all this stuff but I have known you for quite a while.” She beamed at her own silly observation.

“Almost a lifetime,” I added with an equally wry smile.

“That long, eh?”


“Well then, it’s here, it’s available and it’s up to you what you want to do with it.”

I was grateful for her love and astuteness so we cuddled over this pile of new ‘stuff’.

“Thanks mum.”

Tomorrow I start work.

# tbc #


Part 3

Another explanation I think.

Baby Boy

Despite mum’s explanation it still caused some ripples of doubt, not from her but from me. There was something about being referred to as ‘baby’ that chimed with... well... I’m not sure what but, well, I wanted to grow up but still held onto childish things. When I thought about it I still had my childhood teddy stashed somewhere because I simply couldn’t bear to part with my bear. I wasn’t sure but suspected that mum had kept most of my childhood stuff because we had an attic and it was full, although I never ventured up there I know mum often did. Mind you, I suppose there could have been dad’s stuff up there as well.

I had friends my own age and there was never any thought that there was any difference between us all. We’d all grown up together, so had the same hopes and fears... the same influences. Well, apart from at home where I didn’t know if anyone else had a similar relationship as mine and mum’s.

Despite those friends I didn’t want to go to university even though mum thought it would be good for me if I did. I’d wanted to work more than I wanted further education, I didn’t fancy three or so years studying. However, mum had insisted that I stay until I’d done my ‘A’ levels before I could even contemplate finding a job. Despite that, I applied for a job and got the one I wanted but that time had now arrived... and I was bricking it. Any confidence I thought I could bring to this moment had evaporated so quickly I’d sought refuge with a nappy and dummy. It turned out I was reliant on both.


Of course, it had taken me all this time to work it out. Regardless of my denials, anxiety attacks, having a thoughtful mum and memories of dad, I’m just not ready to grow up and take on the responsibilities of being just that... adult. And to prove it, in many ways I was just like dad, anxiety flooding my head with every decision. And, with those comfortable and comforting things so nearby and available (and always had been) I found sanctuary easily using them.

I’d convinced myself I was okay with it all but I start work in two hours and I’m lying here in a soaked and messy nappy scared of moving and terrified of what the future will hold. I’m also sucking on my dummy desperate for it to release me from my obvious panic. I am mum’s baby boy, unable to cope and desperately sucking frantically on my dum-dum in the desperate hope that mum will sort... everything. I’m also dreading what she’ll say when she sees the state of my bedding and PJs.

“C’mon sweetheart, you don’t want to be late on your first day.” Mum was gently cajoling from the other side of my bedroom door.

I let out a “Mmmmuuuuummm” though because of the dummy I sounded like a wounded kitten.

Mum picked up there was a problem and immediately barged in assessing the situation that this wasn’t the best start to a successful new career.

“Oh sweetheart another accident?” I’m sure the smell gave me away. “Let’s get you up and sorted.”

I spluttered the dummy out.

But mum, I’m scared.” The anxiety made my voice almost non-existent... and childish.

“Don’t worry love, I’ll soon have you sorted and then we can chat over breakfast.”

“Mum, I can’t go into the office if I’m going to... you know... do this.”

“Now listen Jason, first things first.” She was being her usual no nonsense mum, “I’ll get you cleaned up, then I’ll get you dressed and you will go into work. I have every faith... and you’ll be brilliant.”

“But what if I....” With a look of disgust and shame I indicated what lay beneath the covers.

“Well, over the past few weeks I think we’ve been practicing for just such an occurrence so...”

Up until that moment I hadn’t realised she was correct. Everything from a few weeks back seemed to be getting me ready for just such a reaction. I’d been wetting myself more and I’d become more dependent on nappies and plastic pants to keep me from total embarrassment.

How mum knew just what to do I’ll never know but it was like my first day at school and I was scared then but mum eventually got me up and off and of course once there I loved it. It was taking that first step that proved to be the problem.

She pulled down the cover and saw the mess I’d made. Thankfully the vinyl barrier had kept most of it contained but unfortunately not everything. How she could still contend with an eighteen year old being in such a babyish position I’ll never know but she just didn’t seem to give it a second thought and got to it.

She ushered me into the bathroom and helped me out of every stinking thing and never once stopped to take a deep breath. She set the shower and told me to climb in and thoroughly clean myself up.

As I stood there, whilst mum cleared stuff away and got things ready, I looked back on the terrible night’s sleep I’d just had.

I was wearing a Durable Slip but couldn’t get comfy, so was tossing and turning and horrible thoughts of mum and dad not being around kept entering my head. In my thoughts/dreams she was with dad when he died and so did she. I’d never had this thought, this dream scenario before, but was probably perturbed because we talked about dad. However, I knew that in my dream, or whatever it was, my stomach churned and I felt sick. A strange shudder ran through my body and I could feel myself pissing and shitting at the same time... but did nothing to prevent it. I was terrified.

It was like I was both awake and asleep at the same time, caught between the two states and it left me immobile. There was more because it was as if there was some major event beyond my first doomed day at work that was about to take its toll. I had no idea what but somehow it involved losing mum... and I’d dreamt that mum had died like dad?

I was paralysed with dread until mum came to get me up. The relief that ran through my body she was alive made for extra pee spurting into my well soiled nappy. I tried to hide the tears of relief but maybe she just thought I was feeling sorry for myself because of the mess. I wasn’t, it was absolute relief mum was there and alive. Even under the warm shower I felt a chill run down my spine as I realised that I was grown up enough to start work, yet still childish enough to fill a nappy and be scared by dreams.

I know I should have had feelings of disgrace and humiliation, which I did, but mainly I felt like a silly kid who had no control over anything. My anxiety level shot up even higher.

What if I was like this at work?

When I exited this shower I was dreading what mum would say.


Laid out on the bed was one of the large colourful disposables, a couple of soaker pads, plastic pants and a onesie. Mum wasn’t there. She’d left the things she thought I needed but left me to decide just what I wanted.

“Don’t forget plenty of anti-rash cream and talc sweetheart.” I heard the shout from her bedroom.

I looked at the array of things and my mind drifted back to my first day at school when I needed a nappy then because I was so scared. On that day mum had sorted me out and stopped any protest by being so understanding.

Mum came into my room and looked at me dithering.

“Can’t make up your mind?”

“No, just remembering you getting me ready for my first day at school, you know...”

“Actually,” she interrupted, “It was your father who got you ready on that first day. You were in such a state but daddy just seemed to understand and gently cajoled you into wearing a nappy and plastic pants. You didn’t want to but daddy, erm, dad, said it would take a big boy to know when he needed a little bit of ‘special’ protection.”

I looked at mum wondering why I’d thought it was her who’d done that but the proper memory vaguely returned and I could hear dad’s voice encouraging me into wearing a nappy.

“C’mon big boy... let’s get this on and everything will be OK I promise.” It was an elusive echo of a memory but I couldn’t be sure it was true.

“Your dad was good like that. You were the apple of his eye and hated to see you upset so, whenever you had a worry, your dum-dum or a nappy seemed to sort it out and you were able to cope.”

Was mum reading my thoughts? Had she just confirmed what I thought or was there another explanation why, after all these years, I was still having these panic attacks?

I was getting anxious about getting anxious. I could feel my heart racing... and another thing... why hadn’t I thought of dad’s involvement until now it seemed a strange omission to make? However, with yesterday’s talk about dad and the fact I was more than a little like him in the anxiety stakes, I suppose it wasn’t a surprise he was now uppermost in my thoughts.

“You were the same when you started at senior school,” mum continued. “You were petrified of the big change that was about to happen, and you’d had a few wet nights then, but once I’d got you wearing a nappy all appeared well.”

Why had my memory not remembered that either? Was my brain blocking out selective data? This didn’t make sense.


When I was eight mummy had to explain daddy wouldn’t be coming home anymore because there had been an accident at work. It was a hard time for both of us as he was a lovely daddy and husband and we had a great family life.

Apparently dad was doing his job as a building inspector but other workers, who shouldn’t have been operating in the same area, were pulling down an unsecured wall. Unfortunately, the wall caved in, which resulted in an unforeseen knock-on effect and a roof... well you get the picture.

It was strange now to think that dad’s anxiety and re-checking everything hadn’t been able to save him. But apparently he’d been assured by the plant manager there was no one else working in that area and he’d accepted that as fact. Why wouldn’t he?

I didn’t know it at the time because we were both completely distraught. However, as a result of that accident the large pay-out had meant that the two of us didn’t have to worry about money. That was one of the reasons mum didn’t have to work. It was also why she never pushed me to find a job, not even a paper round. However, other kids at school couldn’t wait to get a job... independence is what they wanted.

At the same time, I remember someone saying I was now the ‘man of the house’ and that notion also seemed to lodge in my brain. So much so that when I came to be at an age where I could leave and find a job, that’s just what I decided to do. I’d had enough schooling and done reasonably well with my exam results. So, at eighteen it was time to be a man, take on some responsibility and make my way in the world.  I had no intention of leaving home I just thought I’d feel ‘better’ if I had a job. I’d be a man like dad.

However, I might have over-estimated just how much I could contend with now that fact was here, because, obviously, my stress levels had hit manic highs and I was wetting, and shitting myself with worry. Just look at me, a mess, who the hell was I kidding? More importantly how the hell was I going to contend with a job?


With mum’s revelations that it was dad who was keen on the dummy and didn’t disapprove of his son wearing a nappy when stressed out, got me trying to remember more about him. Of course I had memories but not the same as mum had.

He was always loving and encouraging and from a very early age he’d make up stories and lie next to me at bedtime telling such wonderful tales of when he was young, yet somehow making me feel he was talking about me.

I’d often drift off before he finished them and beg him the following night to start again. Quite often I’d drift off several times before I heard the entire story and some mornings, I now remembered, I woke up to wet jammies.

A couple of nights of bed wetting and I was put back into nappies for a while until I had the damp nights behind me. Perhaps, when I think about it, I wore nappies more often than I remembered but neither mum nor dad would tell me off or make a fuss. Dad especially would just smile and tell me what a good boy I was being. He never made me feel bad about any of it.

I think, even now and throughout wearing the occasional bit of protection, dad’s encouragement, no matter how obliquely, had made it ‘okay’ to wear such an item no matter what age I was and the same with my dummy. Dad made being a boy less stressful by giving me things he’d probably used to get by as a boy himself.

I’m not sure just how taxing my young life was but the fact I now happily use a dummy or wear a nappy to relieve any anxiety means, even to this day, the idea to do so is deep in my subconscious. Yet despite these stress relievers, I am still riddled with anxiety and doubt. Heaven knows what I’d be like if I didn’t have them throughout my life. It’s that circle again – worrying about worrying leads to more worry and the outcome doesn’t change. I need my dum-dum and nappy.


“Get a move on slowcoach.” Mum was berating me for taking my time in deciding what I wanted to wear. “Personally, I think you need all this stuff for your first day, just to be on the safe side.”

She held up the new colourful thick disposable.

“However, don’t forget the anti-rash cream and powder first, it will...”

“Mum, I don’t think I can go, I really don’t.”

“Nonsense, of course you can, so, let’s have no more stonewalling. Do you want me to do it?”

I could see from the determination in her eye that she wasn’t going to let me back out but the thought that dad had to get me ready for my first day at junior school, then mum for my first day at high school, seemed to be a pattern that I should break.

“No mum, sorry, I’ll get myself sorted.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind?”

“No, I’m fine just a moment’s panic.”

“Yes love I can see that but don’t think about it, just do it and then you’ll feel a lot better. Don’t worry love... it’s all going to be fine.”


When I eventually arrived at the kitchen mum had got a bacon sandwich and a cup of tea ready for breakfast. I’d put on everything she’d left out and despite reservation, thought the onesie held everything in place just fine. In fact, it gave me a little more bounce to my step, which I hoped might be mistaken for confidence.

“You look fine love and, with your jacket on, no one will notice what you’re wearing.” Mum straightened my tie and kissed my forehead.

I smiled wanly and having left half the sandwich and cup of tea, I was just too nervous to eat the lot, I set off for the bus.

There were two other people waiting, one of whom was our neighbour Mrs Fisher, who animatedly asked me if I was excited about starting my first job. I nodded but hoped she didn’t question me further as I was trying to block my growing anxiety and the obvious bulge the padding made in my pants. She chirruped all the way into town and was still in full flow when I got up for my stop.

“Good luck love.” I smiled my thanks and found myself right outside the place of work for the next... I didn’t know for how many years.

I entered reception and felt the anxiety flow into my new, super childish but very thick disposable as I was given a name badge by a cheerful receptionist and told to make my way to the second floor.

I didn’t realise there would be others starting at the same time but we were a small group of four who were there for the first day’s orientation. All three other newbie’s were degree students who had just left university clutching their diplomas. I felt like a little pretender in their company and despite good grades at school, didn’t have that piece of paper that said I was clever. It also made me the youngest of the team and the lady conducting the orientation class, Mrs Garfield, was very nice about how impressed they’d been at my interview.

“You may be the youngest but we anticipate great things from you.” She was being encouraging but wasn’t sure if it was because I looked so scared. She had a very ‘Mumsie’ way about her and, as Head of HR, would be my contact for any questions.

Meanwhile, I eventually reasoned that I must have something if I was in the same intake so...?

Unfortunately, that understanding only came after I’d filled my nappy even more with nervous though stress relieving pee.


Throughout the orientation I didn’t realise that I kept my hand in my pocket and was anxiously squeezing the dummy I’d taken for support. I had no intention of suddenly slipping it between my lips but wanted it there as a sort of comfort blanket and in those early few minutes proved its worth. Meanwhile, the super, childish but thick disposable was doing a fine job. Impressively, despite my flood, I didn’t feel wet at all.

We were told about the company and its history. We signed various forms and then taken on a tour of the building and shown what each department contributed before arriving at where we would be working - I was to be a Junior Lab Research Assistant. The other three would be Lab Technicians so I guessed that at some point I’d probably be working for them in some capacity.

When I originally applied for the job it was as on some apprentice scheme and my grades meant I was an ideal candidate for what they were offering. Despite asking at the interview what exactly it was I’d be doing, it was kept pretty vague. I didn’t mind because I thought I’d be better here because that meant I’d use my brain rather than anything physical.  

Dad was a physical man but I was more like mum a little soft around the edges. I wonder if that was why dad was so protective. Now dad was back in my head I was wondering if, in his absence, he’d been preparing me for this moment. Perhaps he knew I’d have problems with anxiety (mixed with adulthood) and he was giving me a couple of useful things to help relieve that problem. He couldn’t completely take away my anxiety but he could put into place those things that would be of benefit. Thankfully, they were items I appreciated rather than resented.

Is that how it works?

Well I could wonder about what he did or didn’t want for me but this was my decision and although I’d been pleased at getting the job, there was no denying I was trickling into my pants in apprehension. I had no idea where all this liquid was coming from but nonetheless it was continuous.

What was a surprise was that we would be wearing white lab coats whilst in the building so any worries I had about hiding my bulky protection would be concealed by that. Yes a result!


Professor Amid Rashaan was in charge of the department where I was to work and there must have been about thirty or so others beneath him. My boss was to be Technical Supervisor Adam Tridwell who was very welcoming but I later found that to be just a front for, as my colleagues called him, ‘an utter devious and self-serving twat’.

To begin with my ‘work’ would be just to fetch and carry for everyone else, general factotum I believe is the technical term but in all honesty, I didn’t expect much more to begin with. I hardly expected them to instantly let me loose on their main project. However, all working surfaces had to be kept spotless and that was my job to ensure a biological germ-free zone.

I’d like to tell you exactly what it was we did at the labs but I’d signed a NDA and an Official Secrets form, so I have to keep schtum. However, you can look up Collins Scientific Development UK and see for yourselves.

So, the first day was boring but I liked the people I worked with and at least a few of them had a sense of humour that made the hours pass relatively quickly. My nappy felt full and annoying so by 6pm when my day finished, I was glad to be on my way home.

Apart from a very soaked nappy I was pleased to get the first stress-laden day over with and on the bus home I think for the first time that day I relaxed. Unfortunately, I relaxed a little too much and dozed off for just a few seconds. Regrettably, the constant nervous stomach twinges wasn’t just that, so with a sudden release of pressure, I did what I’d been avoiding to do all day. I took what I hoped would be a cautious fart but unfortunately it was more and filled the back of my nappy. Thankfully I only had another two stops to go so looked around at others as I sniffed accusingly and got off the bus.


I felt stupid and guilty, and what’s more I’m sure I didn’t fool anyone once I’d got off because the smell would have gone with me. I’d have to remember not to catch my ride home at that particular time in future in case anyone recognises me and remembers what a shitty passenger I was.

Mum was waiting at the door for me all full of excitement and desperate to know how my first day had gone. Alas, I think she could tell from my self-conscious waddle up the pathway that I had more than usual in my pants.

“Oh love,” she grimaced in sympathy. “Not another accident?”

“Just as I got off the bus,” I lied.

The entire day’s excretions were now residing in my well-contained nappy and I’m sure those happy cartoon character wished they had someone more dependable to wear them. (Yes, it had got so bad I was feeling sorry for those colourful creations on the disposable) However, once I’d got to my room and collected a few items, moved to the bathroom and stripped down, I had to admit that everything mum had told me I’d need, I needed and I’d been kept from any embarrassment until I got safely home. The new nappies (plus pads) were in fact brilliant at soaking up and storing a great deal of pee and poop.


I noticed mum had moved a new nappy bin into the corner of the bathroom and knew I didn’t need one of them for disposables so suspected mum wanted me to use the fabric ones more often. However, at that time I was holding one of my old pull-ups so, after a pretty thorough clean up, slipped it on and immediately felt better. It was like it was all just a natural process now and a pull-up or nappy appeared to be the right thing to keep everything in check.

Back in my bedroom and it felt different although I couldn’t immediately see any major change. Mum had of course changed the bedding but I noticed that on the pillow she’d left one of the new fabric nappies, no doubt she had a good reason for this.

I checked my drawers and found that she’d used the top two to display a selection of thick cartoon disposables, white, green, blue and purple disposables and a selection of different pull-up styles. I think mum was having a bit of fun because I’m sure they were lined up in order of cuteness. In the bottom drawer were my usual undies. In the wardrobe the new onesies were hung up and a shelf had been cleared to make way for the selection of fabric nappies. I hadn’t realised how many more pairs of different coloured plastic pants she’d bought but they had a section of their own as well. And despite the area that they all now occupied, I’m sure it was only half of what had arrived in that big box.

In my bedside cabinet were a couple of pairs of pull-ups and a couple of new dummies. Mum obviously wanted to make sure I was equipped for any accident or emergency. I smiled when I thought about mum jiggling things around, lining stuff up in a particular order, spending her day reorganising my room to fit stuff in and make it all easily accessible.


Mum wanted to know everything about my day and over our evening meal I told her.

“Where you as nervous as you thought you’d be?” She gently enquired to get the conversation rolling.

I remember peeing in the nappy even as I walked through the company entrance and it didn’t get much better throughout the day but, oddly, wearing such heavy protection helped. However, I wanted to be more positive to mum.

“Yes, there were three others, all out of uni, all starting at the same time so found out at the orientation I was the ‘junior’. Thankfully, I could have felt a bit overawed but wearing my new super-duper nappy amazingly gave me confidence”.

“Well, on that subject... how about, you know, the, erm, nappy... did it do its job?”

I should have known this would be of a great deal of interest to her so couldn’t pretend otherwise.

“Yes mum, it was all fine and I’m very grateful to you organising such absorbent and robust disposables... and the rest. I see you’ve been busy...” I looked up to my room by way of indicating exactly what I meant. I didn’t think I had to spell it out to her.

She smiled a knowing smile. “That’s what mum’s are there for.”

“Hmmm, really?”

I said it as if I was fed up with the entire process but mum knew better and grinned as I tried to pretend I wasn’t actually very, very grateful for her forward thinking.

“So,” she said pretending to be smug, “cartoon nappies aren’t so bad after all then?” She patted my padding. “I suspect you’ve got one on now haven’t you?”

“Ahh, for the first time you’re wrong. Ha-ha, I’m wearing a pull-up so, you see, I’m a man of mystery and self-determination.”

“I bet they’re the ones with Spider-Man on.” She said knowingly... and was correct.

We both burst out laughing.


“So you spent the entire day sorting out my drawers?” I teased.

“Just tidying up and putting stuff away darling, didn’t want to leave anything lying around.”

“Well it looks like you had some fun cataloguing it all.”

“To be honest son, I loved it. I think I was more excited than you but I just loved every single item and I think they’ll be a great asset to your wardrobe.” She smiled.

“So, you don’t expect me not needing them any time soon?” I gestured, a double negative, but think I’d known the answer to that question for quite some time even if it was phrased so badly.

“I think you know that things, certainly at the moment, are not improving.” She waited for me to agree but I just sort of shrugged. “So, I don’t want you to worry if things remain the same for any length of time. We have it covered.”

Things didn’t sound very precise but I knew what she meant.

I could feel myself filling the front of my Spider-Man pull-ups. In fact, it was the warmth I felt first before realising what I’d done... again. I was suddenly struck by the fact that in the past pull-ups had hardly contained any major leak and I hadn’t put on any plastic pants. Meanwhile mum continued...

“I’ve said all along sweetheart that it’s a difficult time for you. Pressures from all corners but you mustn’t worry. We have it covered and no one but you and I need be any the wiser, alright?” She looked earnestly at me to see that she meant it. I briefly wondered if she’d had anything similar with dad.

As always she was trying to be supportive and encouraging but I began to feel my pull-up leak. She saw my sudden change of mood and asked if I was OK but I guess she guessed exactly what was happening and told me to get myself off to change.

“And don’t forget your plastic pants this time sweetie... you know they make sense AND they act as another line of defence, so what’s not to like, hm?”

I gave a hefty sigh but was actually looking forward to trying one of the other fluffy and crinkly disposables, which I hoped would prove less leaky than the pull-up I was about to deal with.

Mum had gone to an awful lot of trouble and I wondered if she wasn’t enjoying it too much? Then, as I opened my top drawer and saw all the items arranged in such a colourful display, perhaps it was a matter of making the best of it... and if you get to enjoy it... so much the better.

However, there on my bed was a new fabric nappy just waiting to be applied. Mum came up after a few moments and looked at me and said. “Let’s try one of these for tonight shall we? I think fabric at night and disposables during in the day don’t you?”

Mum could see I was trying not to look eager to try them out but I nodded so then she took charge.

# tbc #


Part 4

Being the youngest, and not used to mixing with others at this level, the new job did provide me with plenty of anxious moments whilst I got used to different people and the work itself. Thankfully, the white lab-coat was a great leveller because whilst on the premises we all had to wear one, so was able to hide any bulk my nappies had fairly easily. Happily, although a dummy was in my pants pocket all the time there were no circumstances where I needed its soothing effects. It just being there seemed to offer the necessary comfort.

So, here I was... an adult: I mean eighteen, a job and responsibilities. I was earning and quite happily shared my wage with mum, not that she needed it but I wanted to contribute, that had been part of the reason I sought a job in the first place... man of the house and all.

Of course mum made a fuss telling me that I didn’t need to but she could see it meant a lot so eventually stopped saying for me to keep it all to myself. I knew it wasn’t much in the first place but in my head there was a principle I needed to adhere to... it’s what grown-ups do. Mum had looked after me my entire life so, no matter how silly and unnecessary it was, I wanted her to know I appreciated it and wanted to look after her. I wanted to be responsible like dad.

However, despite all this ‘adulthood’ my wetting at night didn’t improve, in fact if anything it got worse. I have no explanation why but it appeared worse because every morning I woke up absolutely soaked so fabric nappies and plastic pants were a must. I can’t say this upset me much because I loved having that nice comfy cushion to sleep with. However, a soggy cushion was not as nice but the regularity of my bed-wetting made sure I was constantly grateful it was there to prevent any urinary disaster.

The daytime disposables felt wonderful and their comforting bulk was a constant and happy reminder their presence. Occasionally, I thought about the cheerful, colourful characters that surrounded my genitals and it made me smile. So all in all I was in good humour at work. The fact I wore a nappy seemed an irrelevance and a damp one under my trousers was of little concern.

It wasn’t that they didn’t have staff restrooms; it was just that by the time I realised I needed to go (being caught up in some project or other) it was too late and I could feel my crotch receiving a warm flush. By then it was too late so I’d just carry on until lunch or coffee break, of which we seemed to have plenty, and then I could swap myself out of the wet one and into a fresh one in its place. It became part of my daily routine and the positive thing about a disposable over pull-ups was - easier to fit. I didn’t have to remove my pants to slip a disposable between my legs and tape myself in. It was quite a bit of work but one I got used to. No one asked where I was going they were all pretty much involved in their own little (and not so little) assignments.  


After a month I was called into Mrs Garfield’s HR office for my first assessment.

“Jason, please sit down. As you know we try and do regular assessments so we both know how things are going. This is an opportunity for us to let you know how well it’s all progressing as far as the company is concerned, and for you to raise any queries you might have.”

Although this was a fairly informal meeting I knew it was important and I could feel a certain amount of tension building in my bladder (damn those constant coffees). Even after all this time I hadn’t felt confident enough to be without protection at work. So it had become a safety barrier I’d grown to appreciate on many levels.

“Your colleagues have nothing but praise for your work and enthusiasm. Mr Tridwell your supervisor says you perform your tasks satisfactorily and are quick to learn... so I’m glad we got that right.” She joked hoping to put me at ease.

It didn’t. I felt a nervous spurt of pee shoot into my already soaked disposable (sorry to my fun-loving cartoon chums) but I tried to look confident.

She went through a couple of other work-related items and I seemed to be coming up trumps in all areas. She asked how I did in my ‘A’ levels but I was still waiting on the results. However, I was feeling quite proud of myself and running over some of the flattering praise I was receiving when she asked.

“... and what about you... and your nappy?”

I was suddenly brought back out of my self-congratulatory revelry and to be honest feeling a bit smug about my contribution until this unexpected question.

“Erm, I, umm, well, mmmmrrrraa,” I was caught completely off-guard “I just go and change when I need to in the restroom.” I eventually stammered out, although, I thought it a strange and intrusive question. More to the point how did they know?

She looked perplexed. “What?”

“Sorry, what was the question again?” I tried to look dumb, which was not really the image I wanted to portray.

“I asked are you happy, you know here and with the work... do you feel you’ve settled in?”

“Oh... yes, erm... I’m loving it,” I enthused glad for some clarification. “The people are lovely to work with and the work itself, from what I’ve seen, is very rewarding. I can’t wait to be more involved... although I’m still learning so know that it might take some time.”

I didn’t want to appear pushy but wanted her to know of my keenness to move on as soon as they thought I should and definitely sought to move on from my faux pas.

She still had a sort of worried and non-comprehending look on her face but gave a half smile. I just hoped I’d smoothed over my ridiculous admission about where I changed.

There were a few more bits of small talk and then I was out of her office with the feeling that the first thing I needed to do was change. My bladder just opened up when I thought she’d asked me about nappies. So, even though I thought the situation wouldn’t be that stressful, I thanked those absorbent little creatures and plastic pants for keeping me from leaking all over her office.

From Mrs Garfield’s HR administrative centre (office) I went to grab the backpack from my locker and quickly headed to the men’s washroom and found an empty stall. I removed my white lab coat and hung it up and then dropped my trousers. The tight plastic pants were amazing in the way they held all those smiling, though damp, cartoon faces in place. I pulled them down and released the tabs on the disposable and boy was it absolutely sodden. I didn’t know I’d had that much to drink but as I’ve mentioned, it was one of those workplaces where a cup of coffee was never far away. Unfortunately, the disposable was so heavy and sagged so low I wasn’t quite quick enough to catch it before it slopped onto the tiled floor.

I heard a surprised “Uuurrrggg” from the next stall and that’s when I realised, that in my haste, I hadn’t checked for anyone else being in there.


Hearing that surprised comment had another effect, it was a good job I was already in the toilet because a burst of nervy pee arched through the air and landed on my white lab coat hung up behind the door. Not only that but as I’d turned to try and prevent the sudden spurt, I kicked the used disposable, cartoon characters and all, further into the other cubicle. I quickly bent down to try and retrieve it but at the same time another hand grabbed a corner. For a few seconds there was a bit of a tussle between the two cubicles before I eventually wrenched it free from my opposition.  

Had I not been so embarrassed I might have found the situation amusing but all I could think of was to get out of there before the other person, otherwise they’d know it was me who wore a nappy. Being the youngest in the group was okay but I didn’t want them to know about that particular part of my life. Thankfully, throughout the struggle I hadn’t said a word, although I did grunt a bit from the effort. So hopeful whoever it was couldn’t identify me from that noise.

If I could get myself nappied and out before him then I could disappear into the corridors and pretend I was never there. However, if he finished first, then he could hang around and simply wait for me to emerge and then he’d know who the culprit was. I was in two minds whether to just leave the damn thing lying there on the floor but that would have got even more people involved searching for the thoughtless incontinent so-and-so who left their used disposables lying around.

I quickly shoved a fresh Cuddlz between my legs and pulled the tapes tightly, too tightly as one ripped off. “Shit”. Still, I just pulled the plastic pants up over it and then my trousers and hoped I was still ahead of the guy in the next cubicle. There may well be a chance that he was too embarrassed having witnessed this disaster and therefore didn’t want to find out who it was. However, it was down to me to make a sneaky exit and pretend none of this ever happened.

With more haste than I’d ever done anything before I unlocked the toilet door and rushed past the wash basins (heaven knows what the man thought of my hygiene regimen) and found myself out amongst a group of others just returning from lunch. I joined the throng and hopefully slipped inconspicuously to being just one of the mass.

That was a close call and I was thankful I could fondle the dummy in my pocket.

“Jason,” I heard my name being called and because I was still a little flustered was thankful once again I was wearing padding.

“Yes,” I nervously responded wondering if this was the mystery person and all was about to be revealed.

“Get yourself a clean lab coat mate... something’s been spilled down the front of this,” Gary Burns, Tridwell’s number two, said as he pointed to the offending stain.

I’d forgotten about that as well. “Oh yes, umm... not sure what that is but, erm, thank you Gary. I’ll do it right away.”

God that could have been another embarrassing situation had he identified exactly what the stain was, if this stress continues my dummy will be getting rubbed to a nub. 


When I got home that night I wondered whether to tell mum, would she be appalled or find it amusing... the outcome was, I was embarrassed so said nothing. However, and this might have been the start of something, I arrived home dry.

Not only that but I suddenly knew when I needed the toilet and could get there without any problem... no sudden soaked nappy. Literally, a wake-up call from nowhere because during the night I woke up feeling the need and actually got up. Despite the struggle with my night time padding to relieve myself properly I managed for the first time in ages. I couldn’t believe it but thought the shock of that ‘incident’ must have spurred me on to take action; although I didn’t expect it to take this particular turn.

Had I simply become lazy so needed a jolt to chivvy me from my too complacent state?

However, notwithstanding these successes I continued to wear my protection both day and night as I still wasn’t that confident about not making a mess. I was so used to it that a nappy had become second nature and I was more-or-less unaware of the fact I had it on but missed it when I didn’t. Even my thicker night time fabric nappy was an aid to sleep and although I was waking up and occasionally finding the toilet I was still glad I had one on. Some mornings they were a little damp but not as soggy as they used to be. I foolishly comforted myself with the belief I was becoming more adult.


One of the good things about working was that, as opposed to school, I didn’t have any homework. When my shift finished at six that was it I’d done for the day and only had to research things at home if I wanted to and in truth I could do most of that on company time. When I took this job that particular aspect had never occurred to me but now I found that I wasn’t stressing over handing in homework the following day I was able to relax more and meet up with friends when I liked.

Some of my old school mates like James and Kili had decided on university, so they were going away for most of the year, Kili to Oxford and James to Durham University. A few were signing on and I have to say a bit resentful of people who had found work. Ralph was working with his father in the grocery trade. He had, even from an early age, helped his dad out on the market stalls most Saturdays but now he was a more permanent member of staff. However, although recently we haven’t seen much of Billy and Mark who were still in school, I at least hoped to meet up with them in my newly discovered ‘spare time’.   

One evening after work Billy was on the same bus as me, he was still in his school uniform and I heard the tell-tale crinkle of plastic pants. At first I was sure they were mine but it became clearer that my fellow passenger was the culprit. I could see that he knew I’d heard something and became quiet and a bit apprehensive. We made small talk but it was very strained even though I hadn’t really seen him for a few weeks.

I asked him if he and his brother were still grounded but he said no it’s just that they hadn’t felt like going out much lately. He didn’t expand on the whys and wherefores of that decision or the reason they were grounded in the first place. But there again, they never did say much, more suffering in silence unless we could see the stripes where his father had laid into them.

Just so you know - this discovery of Billy’s striped arse was as a result of him being seen by one of his class mates getting changed during gym at school. The rumour spread quickly and we all wanted to know more. He wasn’t too forthcoming at first but then, in a secluded moment when there were only a few of his friends around, me being one, told us about the regime he and his brother lived under. We were all sympathetic and grateful our parents, as bad as we may have thought them, weren’t THAT strict.

Anyway, this was different and I know what it’s like to have this kind of secret. I know how awful the idea of being revealed as a nappy-wearer is but unexpectedly wanted to let him know that if that was the case he wasn’t alone. When I thought about it later this was quite a change in my position but I was a ‘working grown up’ so assumed I should be able to talk about this type of thing.

Once off the bus we were walking towards my house, his being a few streets over, and I could see he was trying to restrict the noise with each step. Of course, wanting to chat about it and actually doing so was not the same thing. How do you approach the subject? I mean I’ve been wearing (and as it turned out happily wearing) a nappy and vinyl pants of some description for quite some time now, I should be able to speak, shouldn’t I?

Now we were off public transport I thought he might feel a bit freer to at least say something.

“How are you and Mark coping?” seemed a general way of getting onto the subject.

“What do you mean?” He looked at me as if he thought I knew something that was secret.

“Well, we’ve seen neither of you around much lately and I just wondered if everything was alright.”

“Yes, yes, everything’s fine.” But Billy is a lousy liar. He’s had no practice with his parents because he knows lying leads to punishment so he’s never been able to spin a yarn.

I decided to take the bull by the horns.

“Okay, okay, and you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to... but are you wearing padding... like me?”

“What, no, ermmm, no what, why who... ummm wait.” I saw his brain click into gear. “You wear padding?”

“Have done for quite some time,” this was quite an admission from me and I wasn’t sure just how much of a good idea it was. “I’ve woken up wet so many mornings and had little accidents throughout the day that I’m more or less permanently wearing protection these days.”

Well the cat was well and truly out of the bag now so I just waited for him to admit he was the same.

“What, you wear a nappy... why... erm...?”

I deliberately said padding and protection not nappy but that’s where his mind immediately jumped.

“I have ‘anxiety issues’ and that can make me pee at the most unexpected times.” I tried to make light of it off but he still looked horror-struck.

“Erm, yes, and I, umm, think, at the moment you are also wearing something other than... you know...?” I hoped he’d jump in and concede to it but he looked baffled, “I just didn’t want you to think you were the only one or be embarrassed. I hope I haven’t embarrassed you but I wanted you to know...”

“No, no, NO.” His denial was strident but not very believable, I’ve reacted the same way myself when challenged. “Of course I don’t wear a nappy for god’s sake. Why, do you think I do?”

“Well Billy, your pants have a nice rounded look, you make the same soft crinkle sound I do when you move... and... you’re my friend and I didn’t want you to feel ashamed about it.” I almost patted his padded bum but held back... thankfully.

Despite his denial there were tears in his eyes as he ran off towards his home but I just stood there and hoped I’d not made things worse for the poor guy.


When I got home the incident was hanging heavily on my mind and I really needed to discuss it with mum. However, the first thing I needed to do was change out of my suddenly soggy disposable. I must have let out a surreptitious dribble as I confronted Billy, which for me was quite a backward step as I’d been doing so well. Then I realised I must have gotten myself stressed over poor Billy’s situation so pulled out my dummy and gave it a damn good sucking.

Because I hadn’t shouted my greeting to mum when I got in she eventually came up to my room to check I was OK... also tell me when the meal would be on the table. She saw me lying on my bed in a wet nappy, sucking on my dum-dum.

“Are you alright dear, you look a bit stressed?” She was genuinely concerned.

I explained what had happened and that I’d wet myself as a result and was now worried I might have shamed him and didn’t know what to do to make amends.

“Well love, what’s done is done and you can’t take back what’s already been said.” She came and sat on the bed next to me. “The next move will be up to him I’m afraid. All you can do is be sure, if and when that moment arrives, you’re still prepared to offer him support and a friendly shoulder to lean on.”

“I can do that.”

“I’m sure you can love. But, you’re wet now so, do you want me to help change?”

She was already grabbing the items needed so I continued sucking on my dummy and let her get on with it. Although I’m eighteen and have a job mum looking after me was just what I wanted right then.

“Do you plan on going out again sweetheart?” She enquired.

As I was still happily sucking on my dum-dum shook my head no.

“Well, I know it’s early but why don’t I get you all nicely wrapped up for beddy-byes and then it’s done?”

Mum had said this in a jokey way so I didn’t feel she was babying me but of course there was still that little bit of worry, which I quickly got over because I loved being looked after.

I shrugged and mum took it upon herself to strip me out of my soaked disposable. I saw her eyebrows rise and a sort of “Hmmmm” observational comment as she saw how soaked it was before throwing it into another wash basket that had taken up permanent occupancy in the corner of my bedroom. A soft warm washcloth thoroughly cleaned each crevice before she applied loads of Sudocreme and powder. Then, as she so often did, folded a huge fluffy nappy into shape, added a couple of soaker pads and pinned me in. Although I thought I probably didn’t need such methodical nappying I couldn’t guarantee I wouldn’t wet as I slept. Also, she knew that it was one of my favourite ways to go to sleep - all tightly packed in for the night.

My anxiety level must have all but disappeared as mum pampered and changed me. There is that connection we have and one, even at the age I am, I would hate to break. It’s a special bond which I know I’m lucky to have.

She wriggled up a pair of clear plastic pants and said that I deserved to be treated special because I’d proved to be a special friend.

Mum’s say and do the nicest things, well mine does.


She went downstairs to finish preparing the meal and said it would be five minutes until it was on the table so not to drop off. She knew that now I was all nice and snug the chances were that I’d just lie there, sucking on my dummy and letting the world’s problems (and any of my own) just float away as I drifted off. However, I was hungry so that became far more important and I slipped up a pair of loose, elasticated shorts and headed for the kitchen.

We’d just finished eating when there was a gentle knock on the front door.

“Are you expecting another delivery?” I quipped.

“You wish,” was her quick comeback.

However, she answered the door and I could hear a voice asking if I was around. It was Billy.

“Come in, come in. We’ve just finished eating so you’re not interrupting anything. Jason, Billy’s here to see you.”

I got up from the table, readjusted my padding and walked to greet Billy at the door.

“Erm Jase, can I speak to you please... erm... in... you know...” he was obviously uneasy with mum being there.

“Mum, we’re just going up to my room...” I was hinting that we needed some privacy but of course mum had already sussed the situation.

“OK boys, if you need anything just shout.”

I led Billy up to my room. I suppose he couldn’t really miss the large amount of padding my waddling bum had surrounding it as we climbed the stairs. But if we were going to talk about that particular subject now wasn’t the time to be self-conscious.

My friend hadn’t been in my bedroom for quite some time. In fact, the last time he was here there were no nappies or assorted kit lying about but now my room had the distinct smell of powder and the markers of my ‘problem’ were everywhere. I’d become quite blasé about putting stuff back where I’d got it from so there was quite a bit of stuff on show.

“Ohh,” was his only comment as he stared around

I thought I’d break the ice. “As you can see, I’m fully equipped for wearing a nappy these days and I have to say, they’ve stopped my embarrassment so many times I’m quite grateful to have them.”

Again I hoped my demeanour was friendly and relaxed but wasn’t sure just how I was coming over. However, although I was trying not to look his groin became the centre of my attention as I was trying to figure out just what his padding would look like.

“Are you incontinent then?” He was looking around in disbelief and didn’t notice.

“Well,” strange that I didn’t actually want to admit to that so went in a slightly different direction. “I’m going through a bit of an anxious period at the moment... what with a new job and all... and that sort of effects the way my head works... and leads to some... you know...” I was gabbling when I should have been in charge and I felt a nervous spurt of pee begin the pattern of my anxiety - so much for being ‘grown up’.

“You weren’t joking were you?” He was getting his act together and touching the laid out nappies on the dresser. “I thought you might have been... well... when you said... I mean...” so much for getting his act together.

It was going to be a little more difficult to chat about this subject than perhaps either of us realised. He looked at my huge padding behind my thin polyester shorts and could see he was a little perturbed.

“I thought my parents hated me and my brother but your mum must really...”

“No, no, no, no... mum’s not like that. This isn’t a punishment, as I say, I have anxiety issues and that makes me... you know?”

“But look at the size.”

“Yes well, I wasn’t expecting visitors so really I’m just getting myself ready for an early night and this... well it’s just extra protection as I tend to flood when sleeping”

Billy shrugged. “Am I keeping you up?”

“No, I just mean,” it was Friday night so he wasn’t keeping me up. “Well, erm... look, is this what you’re here to see me about?”

He looked serious.

“Mark and I have been scared that someone would find out about mum and dad putting us back into nappies.” So they were both in nappies, wow. I felt my heart miss a beat but a strange thrill crawled up my back and began to grow in my nappy. “You know what they’re like? If one of us misbehaves or is seen to have broken a rule... we both get punished.”  

I nodded because he’d told me about this as the way their parents held them both to account and made sure each was responsible for the other’s behaviour.  

“Well, last week Mark got into a fight at school when he saw that another lad in his class was wearing padding. He ribbed him but it got out of hand and although I was nowhere near, mum and dad decided that we would both feel how bad it was to be ridiculed for something perhaps the boy had no control over.”

He rubbed the slight padding I could now hear as he sat down on my bed.

“So, for the past week or so we’ve had to wear nappies all the time and you were the first person who noticed or said anything and I was scared, despite what you admitted, you’d make fun and tell everyone.”

“No, that wasn’t the intention, I wanted you to know you weren’t alone, I didn’t even think about Mark as well, but I know the whole nappy wearing thing can make you feel desperate and suspicious. I wanted you to know that with me at least you needn’t worry.”

“When I got home and thought about it that was the same conclusion I came to though haven’t discussed it with Mark yet because I know he’s more fearful than me. He’s hardly been out of the house since and has cut off all contact with his friends. Mum and dad have told him that until he starts owning the fact that he now wears a nappy, he’ll continue to wear one. So, we both have to wear them for an unspecified time.”

“Oh, I see.” I said as a nervous but excitable spurt splashed into the front of my nappy.

“Do you?” I hoped he thought I would be the one to understand even if nobody else did.

“I mean I’m going to ask a lot now but, as Mark won’t come out can you come round to our house and say to him exactly what you told me. It might help him see there is no shame, well perhaps not as much shame, if he knows one of our friends has to wear padding and... stuff.”

“Will it be OK with your parents?” I was trying to sound in control but that last spurt had taken me by surprise and wondered if he’d noticed.

“I think so, you’re one of the few friends we have that they don’t completely dislike so I think you’re safe but, tomorrow is Saturday and they go shopping from around ten until eleven so probably won’t be in... can you come then... please?”

He hadn’t seemed to have noticed that I’d flushed a little.

“Sure,” I nodded feeling pretty good that their parents approved of me and although I didn’t really know the grade of acceptance I hoped it was quite high. “I’ll be there when I see the drive empty, is that alright with you?”

“Thanks Jason, it means a lot that you’ll do this and I just hope Mark appreciates it.” He looked again at my thick protection. “I’ll leave you to get to bed but I’m sure, when he knows that one of our friends - and it’s you and you’re working AND wear a nappy - it might just give him a different perspective on it all.”

He gave me a heartfelt look of hope and touched my arm in thanks. “See you tomorrow then.”

I nodded but the throbbing in my nappy returned as he got up to leave. I could hear the tell-tale crinkle and saw the outline of his padding under his pants... I felt my nappy bursting in appreciation.

I heard him say goodbye to mum and then he was gone. Mum came up and asked if all was ‘OK’ and of course, as I always do, told her what just happened... although, not everything. She nodded and warned that I shouldn’t go behind their parents back. I should be upfront and let them see I’m visiting unaware they’re about to go out.

“What if that makes them change their mind?”

“Well, I think they might respect you more being as straight with them as you are with their boys, don’t you?”

I had to think about it because Billy had wanted to keep my involvement secret from his parents. He wasn’t sure they’d appreciate another person being brought into the discussion.

“Of course you’re right mum but they really scare me and I’m not wearing padding as a punishment like they are, so, our situations are completely different.”

That gave me something else to think about. How it might all go wrong and then I felt the warmth spread around in my nappy. Oh well, now I’m worrying about the two boys AND the reaction of their parents, I suppose it was bound to happen.

# tbc #


Part 5

Despite the chat with mum and her kind words about being a good friend, followed by us cuddling up as we watched a bit of TV that night, my mind was in turmoil.

I kept thinking that my situation was completely different from Billy and Mark’s. I wasn’t being punished, I had anxiety issues. I also had to face the fact that I didn’t mind wearing thick protection because it made me feel safe and secure, which I guess was not the case for them.

I wondered if Billy would have done any groundwork before my arrival on how we’d get onto the subject. I also had no idea, seeing as Mark had almost shut himself off, how he’d react to me actually knowing about their ‘circumstances’.

I tossed and turned for quite a bit of the night trying to mull it over and get some kind of grasp on just how I was going to approach it all. No matter what I thought, a moment later and I was thinking something completely opposite. In the end supposed I’d just have to busk it and hope I could do some good for my friends. I also decided that regardless of mum saying I should arrive when their parents were there, it might complicate matters. So hoped they would be gone by the time I walked the couple of streets to their house.

It was the early hours before I dropped off my usually soothing dummy not having the desired result this time. The reason - thinking about another person wearing a nappy like me. Despite everything it had been an exciting revelation and my hand gently rubbed at the glossy mound that shielded me. However, it seemed only a few minutes later I woke up absolutely soaked. Mum’s regime of thicker, boosted, super-absorbent, night time fabric nappies had once again proved their worth. Again I’m amazed at how she seems to be able to forecast these times when I need that extra little help in containing my nightly flood.

So much for me being ‘more adult’.


I lay in bed and still my mind was debating the task agreed. I rubbed the front of my slippery bloated padding and although it helped in some ways, in another, it just made me remember that Billy and Mark’s problem was different to my own. The fact that such a huge glassy bulge felt nice to stroke, and being able to do so helped me relax and feel happy, was certainly not what the boys were experiencing. So, although I’d given it a lot of thought last night, still the doubts about my effectiveness plagued me. Would I be doing more harm than good AND did I really want other people knowing I wore a nappy?

Too late I suppose.

I looked over at the clock and it was late for me, 9:32. Often mum would have been in by now and we’d be planning what to do or she’d just be checking that I was OK, or if I needed anything special for breakfast. She might have asked if I needed any help in changing but on this occasion she’d let me sleep as long as I wanted. I must admit that since I started work I have appreciated the lie-in on a weekend like I never expected. Perhaps that’s what comes when you’re a working man. I speculated as I lay in my soaked padding for a bit longer but knew I’d made a commitment so had to get myself ready. I left the dummy where it was on the bed side table deciding I’d best not take that with me when I go. I’m not sure that either Billy or Mark would be ready for that... it may help me relax but couldn’t see it doing the same for them.

There was no point in discussing it further with mum so I shucked off the heavy night time nappy and took a shower. I knew that I’d probably have to show the boys my padding so went for one of the plain white Durable Slips together with white rubber pants. Strange that I thought this form of padding was the adult way to dress... mad or what?

After breakfast, mum made no mention of my mission just asked if there was anything I wanted as she was going into town shopping. There was nothing I could think of as my wardrobe and drawers were already full of everything I needed.

Anyway, by 10:15 mum was on her way into town, whilst I was on my way towards Billy’s house and relieved that the family car wasn’t in the drive. Part of me hoped their parents would have insisted the boys accompany them shopping and save me from this undertaking but even as I knocked I knew that wouldn’t be the case.


I quietly tapped at their front door and more than surprised when it was answered by their father.

“Oh good morning Mr Edwards, erm, just wondered if Bill... erm... William was around.” I wasn’t sure how I could explain why I was there but I just remembered in time that their parents called him William and not Billy, for some reason they thought that was common.

Of course, everyone at school called him Billy, which he said he liked even if his mum and dad hated it. Maybe that was why he liked it but they always referred to him as William. You got a look of disgust if they heard you call him Billy.

“Uh, hello Jason,” He seemed his usual dour self but at least hadn’t slammed the door in my face. “Yes, they’re both up in their room would you like to go up?”

I wasn’t expecting this amount of curtesy so I simply nodded and he let me in and pointed up the stairs. “You know the way right?”

I wasn’t sure if he knew why I was there, if Bill... erm... William had been made to explain where he went the night before. However, he just left me to find my own way and didn’t bother calling up to his sons I was on my way.

“Thank you Mr Edwards I’ll try not to take up too much of their time.”

To see him you wouldn’t think of Mr Edwards, or his wife come to think of it, as anything but a typical urban couple with two nicely behaved boys. However, I know the terror they bring to any transgression by the lads and as a result are known amongst us kids (sorry, I know I’m a grown-up worker now but I still see myself as one-of-the-lads) as the ‘Terrible Two’.

“OK then.” He returned to whatever he was doing in another room.

This was a little weird because normally their parents are none communicative and suspicious of any other kids. I could only speculate but supposed they knew I’m a working man now so maybe saw me differently.

As I got to their room the door was open and Mark was lying on his bed looking decidedly fed up and Billy seemed genuinely pleased to see me. However, there was an atmosphere and not one of burning anger but pee, powder and poo... I recognised it from my own room.

“Hi guys,” I ventured, “I haven’t seen you around for some time... so... just wondered if you fancied coming down to the park. Maybe get the other guys up for a game of footy?” I wasn’t sure what, or even if, Billy had said anything and this seemed as good an opening as any.

“Thanks for coming Jase, I’ve explained to Mark why you’re here and of course he’s furious that you know that we’re wearing nappies.” There was a resigned sigh but at least he hadn’t told me to “get out”, he just looked defeated.

There was the sound of soft rustling as both moved so I knew under their shorts they were padded. My own nappy seemed to get tighter... in empathy?

“Yes, and have you told him that you two aren’t the only ones?” I queried whilst trying to rearrange my padding.

“Yes but he doesn’t see any connection between you wearing a nappy because you need to and him being forced to wear one.”

“OK, I can understand that but why are your parents being so definite about you having to wear... er, padding?”

Billy looked over to his brother and obviously any animosity about that particular problem had been ‘discussed’ at length.

“Mark got into trouble for making a comment about a boy in his class who wore protection.” He re-informed me which I suppose was for Mark’s benefit really. “He saw he had plastic pants on in the loo and started, you know, having a bit of fun. The lad, Armin, wasn’t having it and started to have ago back about us and things got out of hand.”

“So this punishment is so you know how it feels to have to wear a nappy then?”

“Basically, yes but, we had a huge disagreement with mum about it and she just said we’d wear them until she’s certain that we understood what Armin, and anyone like him, has to go through.”

“So do you wear them for school and has anyone noticed?” I’d adopted this sort of investigative journalist approach for some reason. It wasn’t really me but the bulge behind my plastic pants was getting bigger. There were two other boys in this room, and although I couldn’t actually see it, I knew they were wearing padding... the idea excited me.

“Just one or two people have sort of looked but not said anything but mum vowed that if we react then we’ll be wearing them permanently... Mark reacted.”

“So you know how Armin felt when you started on him?” I was looking at Mark but he had gone a furious red and looked set to have either a tantrum or beat the hell out of someone.

“I don’t know why you’re here.” This was the first sentence he’d spoken since I arrived. “You’re not going to change our parent’s mind and you’re just another person who now knows.”

He got up and went to the window and pointed into the garden.

“Look, LOOK, they’ve made it so everyone knows... I hate them, I hate them.” He then threw himself back down on his bed in obvious distress.

I looked out the window and there, blowing on the washing line for the world to see were half a dozen square shaped pieces of fabric and the same amount of accompanying opaque plastic pants. No one would be in any doubt as to what those pieces of material represented.

“Okay, okay, I get it but the only reason I came was to let you know that you’re not alone in having to wear a nappy at your age and to show that, certainly, as far as I’m concerned, it doesn’t matter.”

“Well it does to me.” Mark shouted and then realised he’d raised his voice and that might alert his father.

“Mark please mate,” I tried to show empathy, “I understand but your parents are probably thinking this is a real way of making you appreciate what people who are incontinent, or for whatever reason, have to wear a nappy feel like all the time. You’re only making it worse for yourself.”

“How can I make it worse... they,” he sobbed and gestured to no one in particular, “make us use the things... the toilet’s off limits.” His sobbing took over as he curled up defeated on his bed.

He really, really, didn’t want to engage with me, or I suspect anyone, at any level on this subject. He’d been forced into a situation that his fifteen year old mind told him was wrong but was trapped and could see no way out. He knew only too well that arguing with his parents got him paddled and this was perhaps a lesser punishment. Well that was my reading at that moment but what did I know?

Billy pointed to the piles of fabric nappies, plastic pants and various powders and lotions that dominated their room. “We’re also in charge of each other... that means when we’re wet or messy, we have to change each other. Mum said it would be good for us to learn what it’s like to have such responsibility.”

“It’s so fucking embarrassing.” Mark hissed quietly not wanting his dad to hear him swear.

I felt that sudden surge again and spurt of ‘pee’ hit the front of my nappy. I tried to hide my sudden excited vocal reaction with a pretend cough.

It was perfectly clear... I was way out of my depth. I’d just wanted to offer support and let them both know they weren’t alone but it appeared that wasn’t going to be enough. There was something else going on with me... and something I’d not, to my knowledge, experienced before. I could only put it down to knowing they were also, like me, wearing a nappy and that was exhilarating. Meanwhile, I thought their parents were never going to let them out of wearing such items unless they or Mark in particular, somehow lost the resentment and acted differently.

Obviously, from what he was saying Billy had tried to use this logic on his younger sibling but it would seem that Mark’s temperament had hardened against this possible way of appeasement. Why he’d chosen now, and this punishment, to react so different and irresponsibly was something only he knew.

As he lay out face down on the bed sobbing I could see the rounded padding under his flimsy shorts much clearer so he was still wearing it. He’d not thrown it off or refused to be a party to this form of chastisement. I didn’t know the full circumstances so perhaps he had... and the penalty for doing so had been even worse.

According to Billy they’d both refused to wear any sort of padding but their father had beaten them so hard that in the end they were both pleading with him to be allowed to wear it. That was the point, their parents didn’t want to hear excuses, reasons or any pleading for forgiveness, they’d decided on a punishment and it wasn’t up to the kids to decide whether it was appropriate or not.

“I was trying to defend what he was calling mum and dad,” Mark’s sheepish voice tried to explain, “but they weren’t interested.” No wonder he felt badly done by.

Surprisingly, I saw that Billy was not full of resentment towards his brother because he went over, sat on his bed, and gently rubbed his back by way of calming him. There was a tremendous amount of brotherly love, which all their friends had noticed over the years, and I hoped it would see them over this problem. As Billy moved to comfort Mark I could hear the rustle of his plastic pants and could make out the smooth bulge around his crotch.

I was on the verge of telling him that wearing a nappy wasn’t such a bad thing and was often a bonus... but realised that it was inappropriate information for their situation.

As per the house rule, if one misbehaved, both suffered the consequences. It was also apparent that their parents had taken a different way of dealing with their sons and were happy to let them stew in their own hostility.

Maybe, their mum and dad had been delighted they’d found a punishment that had an effect. Possibly, after the first time they’d been made to fill their nappy both took that humiliation in different ways. Whilst Billy saw how nasty it was to have to walk around with shit in your pants settled for acceptance in the hope it would be over with quickly. Obstinately, Mark was so bitter he dug a hole of resentment and burrowed down even deeper.


I returned home feeling I hadn’t helped the situation at all and dreaded that I’d actually made it worse. I think Mr Edwards was well aware of what I was doing there and politely let me out with a nod and a smile. I don’t think that smile was one of support but one that said “We do things our way.” Of course, I may well be completely wrong about that but there was no denying I was glad to leave.

However, before leaving I tried one more time to make Mark see that he was harming himself and his brother by not accepting he’d done wrong in the first place. He just moaned and I didn’t know if it was aimed at my feeble attempt to discuss it or he’d heard it all too often already.  Although punishments in their household were severe, they usually had an end, but by going down this route he was punishing them both when it might have been over.

Of course I didn’t have parents like they did and I had no idea how their minds worked and another fact I had just become aware of, I wasn’t completely acquainted with all the facts. So my involvement was perhaps spurious to say the least.

I tried to make Mark see that by acting as he did he was playing into his parents hands. If he pretended it didn’t bother him, own it and even, if possible have fun with it... “Yeah I’m being punished... anyone feel like changing my nappy? Apparently, I’m a little kid now so... goo-goo ga-ga” or some such silliness that made sure it wasn’t a problem just something stupid their mum and dad had dreamed up. Alas he didn’t see this assertion and I’m afraid I couldn’t get either boy to join me in a kick about in the park.  


Once home and up in my room I tried to understand why Mark was so belligerent about taking responsibility for having a go at the padded boy in the first place. I mean, he must have known his parents would come down hard on him for fighting so that, together with embarrassing the boy, would lead to further punishment. However, I didn’t know the full details so best not to speculate. What I’d been told was this had been going on for a week now, so why this time had Mark not seen the ‘error of his ways’?

Despite disappearing to the bedroom when he could as far as I knew Mark still had to go to school and was still under his parent’s command when at home. So he’d be in his padding all the time. They’d been told to use their nappies and perhaps that was what had caused him to ‘snap’ but even then he couldn’t escape their use. I couldn’t see what he hoped he’d gain from such an ineffectual temperamental display.

I toyed with the idea that he was actually enjoying the punishment but that would make no sense taking into account his reaction of locking himself away. Was he so angry with Billy for some reason that he wanted him to suffer the humiliation of having to wear a nappy 24/7? It didn’t seem likely as the two were normally as close as can be against their parents.

Maybe he had admitted his offence and his parents, not wanting to accept it, just wanted to humiliate the boys further. I had heard that some parents think back to an easier time when their kids were toddlers and relied on them more for everything. They liked the idea of regressing them back to that time and certainly nappies were as good a starting point as any.

The strange thing seemed that Billy was just getting on with life – he’d accepted that this was the way things were and despite hating it, decided to just go along with it until it was over. Mark had dug his heels in and perhaps he was drawing a line as far as his parents were concerned that they couldn’t do any more. Alas, if that was the case his parents hadn’t received the memo. No, this was all very confusing and I suspected my reach-out hadn’t helped even a tiny bit; except, I’d revealed to two friends that I wore a nappy almost constantly.   

However, I couldn’t pretend that their nappy wearing had affected me in a strange way.


I sucked on my dum-dum to try and sort all this out in my head but the main conclusion I came to was not one concerning the boys. In fact, what it did clarify was that I was more than a little content to wear a nappy. Of course I’d realised this before but, as I sat at my desk and rubbed the front of my not very exciting and not so white nappy and plastic pants, it was apparent that my ‘comfy cushion’ meant more to me than I’d previously admitted to. 

A little while back, after mum had asked if I liked wearing protection, I was arguing with myself over this fact, did I or didn’t I? But it was obvious that now, and even at work, I didn’t want to lose what my bulky protection offered. I looked in my wardrobe and checked the various items that mum had bought. Eighteen and still with a cupboard full of nappies might seem wrong but not me.  That was because there was logic to why she’d seen fit to buy certain items, there was no doubt they were aimed at making me happy, comfortable and loved. She didn’t see any reason for me to change my ways and therefore there was no real incentive for me to do so.

If I was anxious – there was a dummy.

If I wet – there was a host of protection.

If I didn’t feel valued – mum made sure I never forgot how much she loved me.

Despite trying, I just couldn’t empathise with the anger Mark felt about his padding. In fact, if anything, I began to wonder what Mark would look like just wearing protection. He’s a good-looking lad, as is Billy, and I bet we’d make a nice little gang of nappy wearers. I stood looking in my full-length mirror at what I was wearing; at that moment just a plain if mucky white Durable Slip and white rubber pants. Meanwhile, my wardrobe was full of every type of padding and vinyl covers and that made me feel guilty because I was beginning to think how my friends would look dressed in some of it. Previously, I’d never thought about others being similarly dressed to me, but of course, now I was thinking about it, that’s all I could imagine.


Yes, it’s a fact, in all the time I’ve worn it myself I’ve never thought about others wearing protection. However, the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to see Billy and Mark in just their padding. Would it be like mine? I didn’t get a chance to show it and suspected that Mark at least wouldn’t have let me see his but I would have loved to know exactly what they wore.  I was getting excited at the thought.

OK, this is awful. I’m thinking of my friends in ways I’ve never done before... but I just can’t stop my brain from hypothesising how they’d look. I’d accepted my wearing a nappy as normal and now there were two others. The thoughts of how I accepted the need to wear was making my mind fantasise about them and how they wore theirs.

How would their mum and dad dress them – lavishly with extra padding or only stick to traditional nappies and opaque plastic pants? Compared to most of mine, what I saw hanging out on their washing line was boringly traditional but was that the extent of the humiliation for their kids or did they have other, further humbling plans?

You see what I mean? Now I’m thinking how cute they’d both look in their sagging and full nappies but then what they’d look like wearing some of my more ‘fun’ stuff.

I looked in my top drawer and imagined Mark wearing one of my thick cartoon disposable, whilst Billy would be cheerfully waddling around in one of my cushiony fabric nappies with a lovely ruffled pair of plastic pants. I wasn’t a lone nappy-wearer any longer and this visualisation was one hell of an experience. My nappy was entertaining a sexual me, which I suppose, at eighteen, had been a long time coming.


Later in the evening mum came up to see if I was okay, I’d been on my computer for ages but had already changed from the things I’d worn to the Edwards’ and was now happily enjoying my bulky night time ensemble.

“So, you don’t need any help tonight then?” She queried at the bedroom door.

If only she knew what I’d been doing and imagining for the last few hours she certainly wouldn’t want to start changing my nappy.

“No thanks mum, got myself nicely settled.” I wriggled guiltily under my covers.

“OK see you in the morning... night-night love.” She blew me a kiss and closed the door.

I popped in my dum-dum, reached down to my slinky padding to let my hand and mind venture wherever it liked.  

# tbc #

Part 6

Before I dropped off I had the most imaginative and stimulating exploration I’ve ever experienced. This new sexuality, where nappies were the main cause of my sensual and mental awareness was, despite being eighteen, something new and exciting. Thoughts, dreams, images flashed through my mind and produced something I’d not come across before; well-used and abused sticky night-time padding.

I woke up to both guilt and euphoria, but mainly guilt, as I tried to process these new impulses that were running through my body. Sleep had not dampened my need to find out if any part of this reverie would lead to possibilities. I’m a teenager with a job so has that alone released certain aspects of my personality that I’d either kept secret or more probably, just didn’t know about. The problem was - how would/could/should I manage this leap of self-discovery?

There was something else I had to process; my fellow lads in nappies were still at school whereas I was a working man. So they were in an environment where secrets are hard to keep, whilst opportunities for exposure are in every classroom or cocky kid with attitude. Nevertheless, they knew my secret and I knew theirs so we had that in common. As far as I knew, none of our other mates wore padding and when I thought about it, I’d never been one to parade around in public in mine, so I could understand Mark’s reluctance to share such an experience.

However, I wondered if I could convince Mark to adopt his brother’s attitude and maybe at the same time surreptitiously get a look at both their padding. You know, I’ll show you mine if you show me yours (God I was sounding more and more childish). Of course, knowing about it wasn’t the same as viewing it, which would be a bonus because I’d not actually seen anyone my age wearing protection so that particular observation would actually give me a bit of a boost. This ‘not being the only one’ went both ways, which I was now beginning to appreciate. Knowing someone else was in padding was enhancing my own acceptance, even if I thought I was already totally happy with my situation.

Maybe Mr and Mrs Edwards liked the fact that Mark was so upset with the punishment he was willing to keep himself to himself, thus out of harm’s way, but also out of any opportunity to act up. From what Billy said he kept a very low profile at school and hardly mixes with any of his mates because he’s constantly worried what they might call him.

So, on that level their parent’s punishment had hit ‘bullseye’ and Mark had to understand how they’d done that and how to cope with it. He needed not to let his nappy define him and carry on as if it wasn’t a problem.  I’d already suggested he try and laugh it off but could see he wasn’t impressed by that notion. Although we had different reasons to be wearing protection I’d hoped it would help if he knew there were ‘others’ but that also didn’t appear to have any effect on his opinion. It wasn’t a matter of telling everyone, because I’d not done that either, it was just owning it should anyone find out. Be dismissive and hopefully they would be as well.  That was the theory though I had no proof such action would work.

Of course, this sort of stuff made me think about my own situation and wondered if I was so sure it would work, why had I been so reluctant to ‘own it’? I was expecting Mark to adopt something that I’d blithely told him would be the answer to any comments and yet had not done so myself. In fact, apart from mum and now the boys, as far as I knew no one else had the faintest idea about my nappy situation. Well maybe Granny as I’m sure mum would have kept her in the loop. I was becoming a bit of a Wizard of Oz, all front and no substance. Still, I just had to hope that if Billy kept up being positive, it might rub off on his brother.

All this ran through my head before I got up but as soon as I moved I could tell that the heaviness of my nappy meant I’d deposited a great deal of liquid in it during the night. I squelched my way to the bathroom and let the entire load drop to the floor, it was like releasing a sack of greasy potatoes.

I showered and cleaned myself up before venturing back to my wardrobe to choose what I wanted to wear for the rest of the day. Sunday, and I had nothing planned and mum hadn’t indicated we were going anywhere so thought, as the weather was still quite pleasant, I’d meet up with anyone who was at the park and hopefully something would be happening I could get involved in.


Without a second thought I slipped into a nice thick disposable with those joyous characters smiling all over it. The thing is, despite my nights being wet my daytimes had been quite good. Recently, I’d been able to get where needed without any drips or dribbles. However, I still liked the security the padding offered so that’s my first port of call when making a decision on what to wear. Actually, last time I looked my bottom drawer contained underpants whilst the others had all my disposables and such. The thing is, I haven’t looked in that bottom drawer for so long mum may well have got rid of them all and just substituted more from that special delivery.

As I thought I might end up having a kick around I wore a pair of very old and baggy grey shorts and an overly large black, white and grey striped jumper. All very ‘distressed casual’ but it also hid my padding quite well. I didn’t bother with any plastic pants on this occasion as I‘d been able to get to the toilet when needed during the day and I knew there was a public loo in the park.

Mum was off seeing friends for the day so I wandered down to the park, past the Edwards’s house, which had no sign of life in it and the drive was empty. I was hoping that the boys would be in the park but, as it was Sunday, maybe their parents had whisked them off to church or some other family business. However, my padding felt nice and thick as it rubbed my naked pubic area and I got a nice little waddle going as I sauntered the mile or so towards my destination.

Disappointingly, although there were a fair few people around I couldn’t see any of my mates so I sat on a bench and simply watched the world go by. There were several teams of lads and lasses playing footy, a couple of youngsters having a game of cricket and several families seemed to have set themselves up for picnics and a full day out. The temperature was in the low twenties so it was warm enough even if the sun wasn’t yet blazing down.

In the middle of the park was a bandstand but I’d never once seen a band play there, just kids on skateboards or groups of teenagers occupying it as their own. Today however, there was a cluster of kids, around four or five years old, wearing their hi-vis vests, squealing with delight over whatever it was that their teachers (?) were doing with them. I wandered closer and saw they were on some kind of fun Scavenger Hunt, ticking off the pictures on their finder’s sheet and shrieking with excitement as they discovered what was next on the list.

As a couple of them bent over to examine something or other I could tell they were like me, well-padded and this was another first for me... identifying other nappy wearers. Of course these kids probably had the excuse of still being potty trained but my mind wandered back to when I was that age and that carefree.

Actually, when I thought about it, those times were always wonderful. After the first couple of days settling in at nursery I was happy to have so many new friends to play with. The excitement when it was home time and mummy was waiting at the gate. I’d eagerly dash to be hugged and I couldn’t wait to fill her in on all that I’d done. There was always so much to tell her and she’d be telling me what a big boy I was and how proud she was of me. Those were unbelievably happy times and mum’s love has never lessened, which I feel and experience every day. When daddy got home I’d repeat all the things I’d told mummy and he’d also tell me what a big boy I was. Sometimes, I suppose, with the new job, it’s like being back at nursery with the wonder of all that’s new and exhilarating... and I love it.

There is something about little kids playing that’s quite wonderful. I don’t just mean the innocence, but of course that’s part of it, no, it’s the intensity of play. They can squeal and run around with complete abandon but, once they have a project, you can see how it envelops them completely. It may be only for a little while but in those moments, nothing else matters.


There was a lot going through my mind as I wandered around the park. Some of the things I’d not really thought about for ages, perhaps years, whilst other stuff had planted a seed in my head... God only knew what was fertilizing that. Tons and tons of that ‘stuff’ contained memories, mainly happy ones but a few little ‘knots’ that kept pushing into my deliberations saying ‘You’re eighteen and should be past all this by now.’ I mean, identifying with toddlers and wishing you were back to those times can’t be the way everyone thinks, can it?

I knew that but there was no getting away from the fact that under my shorts I was wearing a colourful and some would say (including me) quite a juvenile disposable. And as I walked slowly down towards the small lake could feel its impressive soft padded qualities hugging my privates and loving such a sensation.

Down at the water’s edge the young kids, still screeching in delight, were feeding the ducks and geese. Here there were a lot more people wandering along the pathway that circumnavigated the lake. It was like a busy thoroughfare as joggers overtook those gently ambling along, at the same time couples and families wandered arm-in-arm or holding hands. Kids would zoom by on bikes or scooters, with parents shouting for them to “slow down” or to be careful. The place was alive to every type of person and oddly a thought struck me, I was a ‘type of person’. I represented that small band of people who wanted to wear nappies when they were actually old enough to do without.

Bloody hell... is that what I thought?


I found an empty bench and sat down, completely at peace with all around and automatically smoothed the large padded bulge my sitting had produced in the front of my shorts. A few quick strokes sent happy neurons up into my brain but this was no place to take that feeling any further. It didn’t matter because I closed my eyes and let my thoughts wander like the people around me.

Physically and mentally I was in such a pleasant place thinking about just how much I enjoyed being padded and how much I appreciated mum buying all the stuff I now had. As was typical of her, she knew what I wanted before I did and made sure that very thing was there when needed. I marvelled at how well she knew me and knew how things would progress as I got older. I know I must have been giving out subliminal messages (well to myself at least) but she’d picked up on them and made them fact.

Then another thought struck me... over all my eighteen years perhaps it was mum that was giving out messages and I was the one to react to them? If that was the case... why had it taken me so long to work it out and, not only that, DID IT MATTER?

I know I said that mum never baby’s me but I suppose, now that my mind is doing such a huge ‘stock-take’, I can see that in some ways she has. I’ve never been denied anything, the nappies, the dummy, her love... all these things have always been there. Maybe it was part of my father’s legacy that we bonded so closely after his death? Maybe mum didn’t want me to stray too far and was complicit in keeping those apron strings well attached. Of course there’s always a chance it’s just that I’m such a ‘mummy’s boy’ I let those things become my things because they made me feel safe and as I say, loved.  But, if mum was being duplicitous I never felt it. I can’t remember growing up and thinking I should be doing that instead of this.

Only in recent weeks had I thought about losing my dummy because I was starting work and wondered if I should be past such reliance. However, if anything, I’ve needed more and more of the things that made me feel safe... to make me feel complete and happy.

The high cloud had cleared so the sun was now shining quite brightly on my face and I felt incredibly at ease despite the many thoughts buzzing around in my head. Even the noisy hubbub surrounding me made no difference I was in a very nice, mental space. Snippets of other people’s conversation; arguments, whispered words of love or just about the disastrous local bus times, slipped in and out of my head as they wandered past where I sat.


“Jason, Jason, JASON.” I was brought from my pleasant reverie by Billy and Mark who were standing before me.

 “Oh, hi guys, sorry, was almost nodding off there.” I smiled my embarrassment but quickly took in what the boys were wearing. Slightly different checked shirts but both had khaki shorts.

However, I was initially shocked by their appearance, mainly because since the day before they’d both had quite severe haircuts and looked a good three years younger.

To me there was no doubt they were brothers and wondered if that was their parent’s idea – by making them responsible for each other and keeping them looking the same?

“Almost didn’t recognise you,” I smiled, “such a change since the last I saws you.”

“Ah this,” Billy grimaced as he ran his hand across what little hair he had compared to the thick bush he used to have, well both of them had, on their head yesterday.

“Dad took us to the barbers after you left us and Mark saw this lad in the chair before us having his hair styled like this.” He looked across at his brother and sighed a little. “He asked dad if we could have a similar style, knowing he would never let us decide, but he did and so...” The rest of the reasoning was left unsaid but, as I say, it gave both boys a rather different and younger look.

Actually, when I looked at some of the other teenagers in the park I noticed quite a few had this sort of ‘short back and sides’ look. Perhaps it was the latest trend and like a lot of current culture, it had simply past me by.

Anyway, distracted as I was by their hairstyle I also noticed they were a little filled out in the seating area. Although not too obtrusive, I suppose, because I knew, I could tell. “You guys looking for me or what?”

“No, we’ve been to see mum’s sister and her lot...” Billy broke off and pointed to a bench about fifty yards away. “Mum and dad are over there talking to a Mrs Gower... we saw you so came over.”

I noticed that Mark still wasn’t saying anything but at least he was out and about, and looking like a pre-teen, so wondered if anything else had changed for them.

“Well it is a nice day, so, how are things in general?” I was trying to be vague but also wanted them to chat if they felt like it.

Billy patted his hip. “Still wearing but,” and he turned to Mark, “you coming round has gotten my brother thinking,” and smiled at Mark. “Tell him bro.”

There was a huge sigh from him before he looked at me and said “Thanks.”

I was a bit perplexed. “For anything in particular?”

The dramatic haircut had made him look even more like a shy little kid (but so damn cute with it).

“Just being honest and upfront... and taking time out to come round to see us.” Mark had a sort of bullish innocence. He was absolutely all boy (if that’s not sounding weird) but his upbringing had made him ‘check’ on everything he did or reacted to. Billy was slightly more assured but even he never pushed himself, their parents influence was overpowering all the time.  

“No problem mate, I’m glad to see you out and about.” I smiled encouragingly.

“I hate this nappy business,” he whispered confidentially, whilst inadvertently rubbing his padding, and came and sat beside me. Billy was still standing. “And you being, well, not bothered who knew about yours... got me thinking...” He shrugged as if he had no more to say though if he did wasn’t sure how to go about it.

“Well you two are my friends.” I was going to say more but knew it would sound like I was blowing my own trumpet and I didn’t think anyone deserved that.

“I saw Tim and Mike earlier,” Billy was trying to get us motivated, “Fancy going over for a kick about.”

We got up and Billy rushed over to his parents and told them we were off for a game of footy and they’d be back for lunch later. I saw their mother check out who they were with and saw her nod. Even though I waved she didn’t acknowledge me at all.

Billy re-joined us and I could hear the soft rustle of his plastic pants. Suddenly I got a mental image of us walking towards our friends but only wearing nappies. This put me in good humour and added another sensation to my bulging nappy so I was smiling and giggling to myself as we walked. I wasn’t sure if anyone else detected our slight gait but there was definitely a little waddle going on between all three of us.

Mark had changed, gone was the shy, inhibited lad of earlier, he seemed much more confident and, had I not been in the know, wouldn’t have suspected a thing. When we found our other friends there was quite a few who’d joined in and a great hectic footy match was soon underway.


A couple of times when the lads were tackled and fell to the grass I noticed up their shorts leg the tell-tale sign of plastic pants holding a fabric nappy in place. However, these moments were few and quickly sorted as Billy and Mark were up and back in the game within seconds. I suppose it was the same for me when I ended up rolling around on the ground having run into Deeno, all six foot two and 200 pounds of our biggest friend. He never went down after a tackle because everyone just normally bounced off of him or like me, ended up being floored.

Just after noon Billy abandoned the game and said he and Mark had to go back for lunch. No one suspected a thing but I wondered if both their padding had got a little bit firmer. I walked back with them and their waddle was definitely more pronounced and I started to smile to myself. Yes I know not very grown up but I was enjoying what I knew because in all the fun of playing the game, I had also filled my cheerful thick disposable. Then I remembered that according to their line of washing, their parents kept them in fabric nappies so they wouldn’t have firmed up as much as mine. However, if they were soaked it would be much nicer to get out of them as soon as possible. We walked a little faster.

“Sorry guys,” I said as I joined them, “I think I’ve just had a bit of an accident and need to get home to change.” I was at it again, trying to make a guy in a wet nappy common place and nothing to be uptight about. Billy grinned and Mark shrugged so I guess they weren’t quite ready to be as open as me but perhaps that wasn’t a bad thing. Eventually, their punishment would be over and nappies would no longer be a part of their lifestyle... so best not make too much about it. I could see their unspoken point.


Back in the house and mum wasn’t home so shoved a ready-made-meal in the microwave, set the timer and went up to my bedroom to change. As usual the disposable had soaked up all the liquid quite efficiently and the thing was heavy and solid where the gel had done its business. I stripped, cleaned myself up and aimed for my briefs drawer. I wasn’t making a point; I just thought it might be nice to get back into more age appropriate undies. After all mum hadn’t cleared it out and replaced all my undies with disposables and thought I might as well try a pair.

When I stepped into them it just didn’t feel right. Of course briefs were nothing new but the fact I’d been wearing a nappy now almost nonstop for a number of weeks made the sensation of briefs... well... lacking. I quickly changed my mind and found the pull-ups I’d abandoned a little while back and decided on them. Now, with even just that little bit of padding, it felt a lot better.

I heard the ‘ping’ and wandered down to the kitchen wearing only a t-shirt and pull-up with a skateboarding boy on the front. It felt incredibly comfy as I picked up my steaming Cottage Pie and sat at the table with a glass of milk. Perhaps the most convenient Sunday lunch I’d had in quite some time. As I gave it a few minutes ‘standing time’ I thought again about Billy and Mark and was strangely glad they were being made to wear nappies... and I did like their haircuts and wondered if such a style would suit me?

# tbc #

Part 7

When mum got home from her day of seeing friends I was sitting in front of the TV still only wearing my t-shirt and pull-up. She smiled her greeting and kissed the top of my head as she enquired what I’d been up to all day.

“Oh, nothing much, a trip to the park for kick about,” I lazily explained.

“Many people around?”

“Yes, the weather seemed to attract a fair crowd.”

She disappeared upstairs. “Have you eaten?”

“Yes thanks... do you want a cuppa or anything?”

“No love I’m fine... have you...” there was something else I didn’t quite hear.

Mum arrived back completely changed. Gone was her smart summer dress and instead she was in her relaxing sweatpants and jumper. Her hair was down and she looked a good ten years younger.

“That’s better,” she said stretching and then curling up on the sofa. “You look a bit different yourself today,” then added with a smile, “and it’s not just your skateboarding pull-ups.”

It had been an eye-opening day so far. I mean the thoughts that had been zooming around in my head, the conclusions I did and didn’t come up with. The pleasure of seeing my two mates in their padding... even the little kids wearing also gave me a kick knowing I wasn’t alone. Yes, I know that there are always little kids wearing nappies but, it was just the affirmation I needed right then. AND, on top of all that, it was such a nice day to be out and about, wet nappy or not.

Muumm,” Yes the elongated word meant I had something to ask that I wasn’t sure about.

“I’m all ears darling, what is it?” She looked over and patted a place next to her on the sofa for me to go and join her. I did.

“Well,” I wasn’t sure how to start this bit... so I cleared my throat, “Eruughmmm, well I just wanted to say that since I started work, things have changed a bit for me.”

“Oh yes?”

“For a start, I like to wear nappies all the time... even there... where I didn’t think I would. They seem to give me confidence and, at my HR assessment I think everything is going well, or at least the lady in charge said so...”  

“Well that’s good isn’t it?”

Yeess but there’s something else and I’m not sure if it’s good or bad.”

“Okay, do you want my actual opinion or do you want me to tell you ‘it’s all alright and you’ve nothing to worry about’?” She said teasingly.

I explained about Billy and Mark and that I’d seen them at the park and they thanked me for going around and well, letting them know they weren’t alone in the nappy situation. I mentioned they were out and about and I could tell they were padded, and guiltily, how much of a thrill it gave me actually seeing them that way. I knew I should feel guilty being pleased about my friend’s nappy situation but I wasn’t. I knew it was selfish but I couldn’t help that now I wasn’t the only one I wanted it to stay that way.

Mum thought for a moment and then looked me up and down. “Quick love, your pull-up isn’t going to hold...”

I jumped up and headed for the bathroom I was unconsciously getting a hard on and only aware I was doing so when mum pointed it out.

“Oh Christ.” I said jumping up embarrassed and taking the stairs two at a time. I slammed the door to my bedroom shut and wondered what mum must think of me. I was completely red. I could feel the shame and embarrassment make my body glow. I’d never done that in front of my mother before. I was also nervously peeing into the pull-up so rushed to the toilet hoping it would contain most of it. I only just made it but a dribble was flowing down my leg and needed a cloth to wipe up the little pool I’d made.

This was ridiculous... I’d not done either of these things before (got a hard on and wet at the same time) and now I was in a state because my body was doing just what it liked. I could feel my heart pounding wondering if this is what I’d become – an eighteen year old adult baby? I’d never put those two thoughts together before but think it was the sheer embarrassment that made me hope not to be in such a situation again in future.

Baby and adult, baby and adult, baby and...

I heard the floorboards creek outside so knew mum was coming up to check I was OK. Despite any embarrassment I knew I’d have to confront what had happened eventually so made my way back to the bedroom.

“I didn’t expect that.” She said as if she knew it was just as much of a surprise to me as her.

“No, sorry, I, I...” I was lost for words but mum had already selected a thick fabric nappy and a pair of thick plastic pants.

“Might I suggest sweetheart that you get yourself fully padded and then we’ll finish our chat.”

Mummmm, that was what I meant about how much I’ve changed. I’m not sure why but... well...” How can you bring such an admission to an end? How can I explain my cock stiffening like it had? How can...  I wasn’t sure why I’d started to tell her except, well, it is mum and I tell her everything.

She was about to leave but I needed to know that things hadn’t changed between us, that I could control such a thing. I was riddled with doubt, shame and of course embarrassment when out of my mouth came a request that surprised me.

“Mum, can you do it for me please?” I asked knowing it felt strange but needed her to take charge.

“Are you sure?”

I nodded so she came over, removed my towel and spread it on the bed. “Okay, hop on.”

So I did.


My head was full, though of what I’m not too sure. I mean, I’d been thinking all day and several scenarios had flitted in, taken hold and then, just as quickly, flitted out again. I closed my eyes as mum set about her usual methodical way of making sure everything was clean and correct when it came to a nappy change. It had been this way since I was a baby but, this I knew was different. It was like I was asking for something I shouldn’t and yet, mum had no qualms about supplying me with it.

“Mum,” I whispered, “is this weird?”

I still had my eyes closed because I was scared at what her expression might say. She paused for a while before carrying on.

“Look at me sweetheart.” I opened my eyes and she was smiling down but that expression also carried - I mean what I’m about to say. “Jason, there is absolutely nothing I wouldn’t do for you... and this... well, I have been doing it off and on for eighteen years so you can tell it doesn’t bother me.”

She poured some oil over my parts and started to smooth it in.

“Sometimes you simply over-think things... lift,” I arched my back and she rubbed the oil into my bottom. “If this is what you say you want, like wearing a nappy, then it’s what you feel you need.” She finished rubbing in the oil and picked up the canister of talc. There was a quick puff and my genitals were covered in a white cloud. “I can see you’re already relaxing so this... this... mother and son connection we have obviously relieves some anxieties but it shouldn’t replace them with others.”

She pulled the terry material between my legs and tightly fastened me in before wriggling up a pair of thick pale blue plastic pants.

“My advice is to stop this over-thinking business and enjoy what you enjoy. This is what you want? It isn’t hurting or involving anyone but you and me... so stop worrying. If you don’t want this... you can stop whenever you like but, in the meantime, I love my son and that means more than anything else.”

I smiled in response, it was the reassurance I needed.

“We have each other but,” she shrugged jokingly, “you’re growing up and there will be things that are bound to change. I don’t want you to think you can never come to me with a problem, nor do I ever want you to worry about having new friend and experiences. This job is the right thing for you... it will help you fathom out who you are and what you want.”

She patted the finished padding and smoothed hair from my brow.

“I love you too mum but what about, you know, earlier...?”

“Sweetheart, you’re eighteen and it was bound to happen at some stage.” She said with some reassuring vigour. “I’m not embarrassed that my boy is growing up, has feelings and enjoys a nappy. You’re my son and I love everything about you so... something like that is neither here nor there. It’s just something that happens to a boy and whether you’ve been aware of it or not, I’ve been dealing with it since puberty set in.”

I think she could see the relief (with a bit of confusion) on my face.

“Are you happy? If you are that’s all that matters because I am.” She left me lying out on my bed totally relaxed. I lay there wondering if I was happy. All-in-all this had been a pretty weird Sunday for me but the bottom line was... mum and I were strong. However, all these other thoughts going on, well, I was still trying to sort them out.


Monday morning I was in the office bright and early. I’d made coffee for everyone and was feeling pretty good about myself because I could feel the thick padding hugging me tightly under my trousers. There was also a nice sort of rustling noise because of some new vinyl pants which I found quite reassuring. After all the stuff I’d thought about the day before, and having happily seen the boys wearing their padding in public, I was feeling immensely buoyant. It was as if I hadn’t a worry in the world and that felt good. So, when I was called into Adam Tridwell’s office I had no inkling of the way the conversation would go.

”Ah, Jason, I just want to back up what HR said at your last assessment. Oh, by the way, do you have the time?” He smiled encouragingly as I took a seat. There was a nice soft ‘whoosh’ as I sat down which made him prick up his ears.

“9.35.” I said confidently checking my watch.

“Nice watch, I’d know it anywhere. Oh yes, there’s something else,” he paused, “I assume it’s you who’s changing their nappies in the washroom area?”

He’d spoken so nonchalantly that for a couple of seconds it didn’t register exactly what had been said. Of course, during the tussle he must have recognised my wrist watch so didn’t really need to hear my voice. Then my body ran cold, I was lost for words and my mouth gaped open.

“It must be hard being the youngest member of staff and still have to wear protection and I suppose, keep that a secret. After all, who wants the rest of the staff to know they’re still in touch with their infantile side... to such an extent?”

I sat open mouthed unable to move or speak as he carried on.

“I think it was a mistake throwing your soiled cartoony disposable on the floor but I’m sure you have a few other babyish habits that you enjoy... in one way or another.”


“Well I’ve noticed you toying with what I assume is a dummy in meetings. You might think you’re being inconspicuous but... afraid not.”


“I can tell when you waddle around too and from various areas that you’re carrying quite an amount of padding and I think that’s fine for a nice boy who does his work and doesn’t cause a fuss.”

“Erm.” My mouth was still dry and my head was spinning as to what this unwanted revelation might mean.

“So Jason, as I say... you’re a nice boy with impeccable manners and I’m sure your work colleagues will understand should they find out about your little, shall we say, fetish?”


“I know, I know,” he said jovially as if he was my best mate, “you have to wear a nappy because you have a urinary problem... is that right?” He teased as if he already knew the answer.

I looked up at him, my eyes wide with apprehension and I could feel my nappy soaking up a deluge of nervous pee.

“But of course, a man with that kind of problem wouldn’t be wearing such childish, cartoon disposables would he? Only a toddler, who loves his nap-naps,” he said this in a mocking manner, “would want all the babyish comfort a nice thick colourful nappy, featuring all his favourite infantile characters around him. Some might think such a person was perhaps a debauched pervert of some kind.”

“But, but, erm, I do have to, erm....” I squandered any chance of getting ahead on this disclosure by not being certain of where I stood or what rights, if any, I had. The warming flow was now being soaked up and I could feel my disposable doing its job but I was at a loss for what to do or say.

“No need to worry Jason I have no intention of revealing your little perverted secret - no, sorry, our little secret.”

He saw me exhale with relief. I’d been so surprised by his observation I don’t think I’d breathed at all throughout this confrontation.

“But of course that means in exchange,” he paused, “I want something from you.”


Apprehension left me unable to respond, it was like I was a deer caught in headlights just waiting for the speeding car to smash into me. I had no idea what to say or do I just wasn’t prepared for such confrontation. I had hoped my lab coat would hide everything but there was no getting away from the fact that I’d tussled with my boss when my soggy nappy had disappeared under that toilet door and thanks to my watch he’d guessed it was mine.

“Do you think your colleagues will understand that they have such a pervert working alongside them?” He was sticking the knife in and giving it a turn.  Although I didn’t believe I was a pervert I could see that to others it might seem that way. “Maybe they’ll all want to see what a baby they have making their coffee whilst perversely wearing a nappy, eh? I’m sure it would surprise quite a few of them?”

He saw how nervous I was getting and my hand reached into the pocket of my lab coat.

“Yes, I think sucking on your dummy would be a good idea. Go on, don’t be scared, it’s what you want isn’t it?” I vaguely shook my head but he was insistent. “GO ON use it I want to see our youngest employee doing what comes naturally.”

Now it didn’t seem a request but a command and I was so scared I didn’t dare refuse.

Slowly I pulled it from my pocket and nervously massaged it hoping it might calm down my throbbing heart.

“That’s it baby, just slip it in and I’m sure you’ll be fine,” the encouragement carrying a threat.

I did pop it in and strangely, for the situation, it did help settle my distress.

“Right, now that’s in... this is what I need from you...”


Basically he was bad-mouthing the new intake of research assistants so wanted me to spy on their work and report back on any new developments. I didn’t voice my concerns that as the boss surely he already had access to all their work but he was paranoid they were working on something else that Professor Rashaan had organised separately. He was convinced he was deliberately being kept out of the loop by his boss and that made him concerned.

Therefore, because I was often wandering around bringing things and taking stuff away (a general factotum), hearing things because nobody stopped their chat when I was around like they did when he came into the room, I was ideally situated to report back daily on anything that was said or hinted at and to steal any notes I came across.

I said I wasn’t comfortable with doing any of that but he asked if I was comfortable about everyone knowing what a little pervert I was and that stopped any argument on my part.

So my workmates had been correct in their initial description of him being ‘an utter devious and self-serving twat’.

So this is what it’s like being grown up and a working man; intrigue, deceit, lies and spying on your colleagues? As I went home on the bus that night I was in a quandary, did I do as directed by my boss and give in to his demands or risk the disapproval of my colleagues when they found out about wearing a nappy to work?

The thing is, I think I let the hostility of the man get the better of me, I wasn’t thinking I just let him tell me what was going to happen. I mean, I’m a worker and part of a team so I should be contributing not spying. I was a little indignant about letting myself be cajoled into feeling I was a ‘pervert’ when I had no such notion.

However, I had a slight problem. I’d come to rely on wearing a nappy now that the thought of returning to briefs seemed an impossible task if I didn’t want to pee my pants. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of forcing me to spy, nor did I intend on spying, but I also couldn’t see me doing without my nappy. What to do?

Young Mark suddenly sprang into my mind. I’d told him to laugh it off if confronted by bullies and here was I bludgeoned into thinking less of myself. WELL, NO NO NO, I will not let Alan Tridwell take that much control.

The thing was - did I want to make a big thing of it or just let it pass and do nothing for the paranoid fool? I decided I’d simply ignore him and, should he feel the need to reveal my secret then so be it.


I spent the rest of the week trying to avoid Tridwell. Every time he caught my eye, I’d pick something up and depart in the opposite direction as if I had something else to do at that moment. I saw his angry face but, despite his threat to expose my tendencies, he just seemed to seethe but do nothing else.  On Friday, just before home time, he cornered me and I had no option but to face him.

“OK pervert, I’ve given you loads of opportunity to speak...” He was all gnarled up and all but spitting his words at me.

“Forget it,” I interrupted. “I’m not spying on my colleagues and friends... so do what you feel you must.” He looked even angrier, as if he couldn’t believe I wasn’t caving in to his demands. “However, what you need to know is that I have sent a letter to HR about our conversation, the threats and that you want me to spy on my colleagues and paranoid about Professor Rashaan... and about my medical condition whereby I need to wear a nappy for hygiene and comfort... so...”

“WHAT!” he screamed. I saw the colour drain from his face and the expression change from anger to worry. “You can’t, I mean, I, erm, ummm, no.” He grabbed me by my lab coat. “You’ve got to get that letter back, it will mean the end... oh fuck, fuck, FUCKKKK.”

I’d like to say I simply brushed his grip away but I was in fact stunned, and a little afraid, at his reaction. I thought he’d simply say “well played” and we’d forget about it but I forgot just what a ‘self-serving twat’ he was and his grip tightened.

“OK fucker, you’d better retract whatever it is you’ve said otherwise I’ll make life difficult for you... you snivelling little cunt.” There was total madness in his eyes and I wouldn’t have put it past him to have punched me there and then. However, at that moment Tom Tynan popped his head around the door and saw what was happening.

“You OK Jason?” He was as big as Alan and didn’t look he was that afraid of calling the boss out.

“Fuck off Tynan this is nothing to do with you.” He spat in his direction.

But Tynan was having none of it.

“Let go of him you fucking cunt or I’ll paste you all over your fucking office wall.” And he immediately advanced on him with a threatening fist.

Seeing the advance of a healthy, sporty and tough twenty something... the forty plus year-old immediately let me go. “We were only having a bit of fun.” He had backed down as soon as he saw that Tynan wasn’t in the least bit afraid of him. “Just a bit of banter and office humour...”

“Are you OK?” He looked at me and to say my heart was beating twenty to the dozen would have been an understatement.

“Yer,” Tridwell tried to speak on my behalf and being dismissive of the entire situation. “Just a bit of a lark, nothing to get your knickers in a twist over... something and nothing.”

“Jason, do you want to report this incident to HR?” Tynan was looking into my terrified eyes. “You needn’t be afraid... I’ll be with you if you do.”

“Of course he doesn’t,” Tridwell again tried to dismiss what had happened, “Nothing to report because nothing happened... isn’t that right Jason?”

At that precise moment I was too stunned to speak because not only had I wet myself, I’d crapped myself as well. I was afraid that Tynan might smell what I’d done if I went with him to HR, so shook my head and excused myself heading for the toilet.

As I exited I heard Tynan say that Tridwell was a very lucky man but if he saw me so much as speak to me again he’d punch his fucking lights out.

“Yeah, yeah, now fuck off back to whatever hole you crawled out of Tynan,” he said settling himself behind his desk no doubt pleased I wasn’t going to say anything. “I don’t need you telling me what to do.”


I suppose I could have gone straight home but instead I grabbed my bag and headed to the restroom to change. I didn’t want to carry all that mess around with me all the way home. I was still shaking when I locked the cubical door and started to strip. My plastic pants, as usual, had done a fine job in keeping any dribbles contained but as I released the sides of the disposable the smell wasn’t easy to hide. At that moment I heard the main door open and I just knew it was Tynan checking that I was OK.

“Jason, I know that’s you... are you OK mate?” He sounded most concerned.


“Yer, sorry it just upset me a bit and I’ve made a bit of a mess, sorry...” I didn’t know what else to say except, at that moment, and as if I had no control, the full disposable fell out of my shaky grasp and slopped onto the tiled floor. I just knew that he saw the cute but shitty cartoon character and I had no excuses left. A pained “Sorry” was all I could muster before I burst into tears.

After a good fifteen minutes or so I’d recovered and replaced the messy disposable with a fresh new one. I wasn’t expecting Tom to still be waiting for me when I eventually let myself out of the cubical.

“Are you sure you’re OK Jase?” He looked very concerned.

I wasn’t sure what to say as I was embarrassed enough with everything that had taken place but was in this colleague’s debt for his rescue. I didn’t dare look in his eyes. I was all cleaned up but carrying a soiled disposable in a small black plastic bag in one hand. Oh Christ, what was I going to do or more importantly, what would Tom think of me?

Of course Tom was one of the guys that joined when I did and got on quite well with all of them. However, he was always more attentive and I’d found that I spent more time hanging around his work space than anyone else’s. He was twenty-four, played rugby for his university and had won a local championship playing badminton. I’d found all this out as we chatted over the occasional coffee, or I helped him with some minor part of the project he was working on. He really was an ‘associate’ but when he’d called me ‘mate’ I was truly astonished. I hadn’t thought he thought of me as that much of a friend, merely a colleague.

Of course, I may be giving that word far too much emphasis but after what had just happened I was still a bit shaky and desperate for any positives to present themselves.

He took me to the work’s canteen for a drink to ‘settle my nerves’ and we sat down. Once I’d sipped on my cappuccino he insisted I tell him everything that led up to our supervisor grabbing my lapels. To be honest, it was a relief to be able to talk to someone because, although I thought I could handle it, the actual dynamics of it all left me worried. So I told him everything.


Tom was very unhappy that I was being goaded into spying.

However, as he’d seen my messy nappy I also decided to tell him that I had to wear a nappy (I didn’t tell him it was through preference though perhaps, because of the design, he might have guessed).

I told him about Tridwell’s threat to expose my ‘childish’ need and oddly Tom reached out and touched my hand.

“Well Jace, you’ve certainly had a lot to cope with in your first few weeks. However, and it’s up to you of course, but I’d make a formal complaint to HR and you can cite me as a witness.”

“I don’t know Tom, he’s a nasty piece of work and I don’t want to get on the wrong side of him.”

“Well, it appears you already are,” he smiled and patted my hand. “You stood up to him and refused his demands... that’s pretty good... and pretty impressive... for a new boy.”

He said ‘boy’ with a bit of a tease so I didn’t regarded the word as a put down. He was being open, honest and above all a friend when I needed one. So, I thanked him but said I’d think about it over the weekend and let him know.

He watched me waddle away and smiled in reassurance a final time as the automatic door closed behind me.

He was of course correct, I should complain to HR but I didn’t want to get either him or me in trouble as I didn’t know what influence our Tech Supervisor carried. However, on the bus home I suddenly realised that another person now knew about my wearing of nappies and it hadn’t freaked him out. Perhaps if others were to find out, it wouldn’t be so bad?

There was another thing about the ride home I couldn’t get Tom Tynan off my mind. I know he said he’d had a girlfriend at Uni but that finished when he returned home and took this job. There was something about him that I found absolutely lovely. Yes, I know, ‘lovely’ shouldn’t be a word to describe another guy but he’d been (how can I put it without sounding like a dork?), so gentle and yet angrily supportive when he needed to be. The way he threatened Tridwell wasn’t something I asked for but obviously, he wasn’t one to shy away from confrontation, or even a bit of aggression, if he thought something was wrong. He’d been like a knight in shining armour.


I have to admit that the bus ride home was quite confusing. My head was filled with the Supervisor’s threat, Tom’s intervention and of course filling my disposable. There was a sort of montage of mini-memory clips running through my brain as I focused on one or other aspect of what had happened, not just today but since I’d joined the company.

At break times or lunch I usually (if I didn’t need a change) ate with the other newbies. They in turn joined others they knew and before long it seemed everyone knew everyone else. Of course, we weren’t all working on the same project and meal breaks were not regimented to any particular time. It hadn’t occurred to me until then that often it was Tom and me, or Tom and a couple of his mates sat around drinking coffee and having a sandwich on these occasions. His group of friends were very welcoming and loved to chat about stuff other than work, although in truth, it was nearly always about their latest project. I hadn’t realised until he sat me down after Tridwell’s attack that he often made it so I was in his company - stupid how I missed that fact. I’d been so caught up in hoping no one would notice my bulky underwear I’d missed what was going on under my nose.

Tom had constantly been the friendliest of the group and I hadn’t realised he tried to get me involved rather than just being the general dogsbody. I mean, of course I noticed him because we’d had long... mmmm... no, erm, now I actually thought about it, we hadn’t had long chats I’d mostly just listen in. All I knew about him was from hearing his discussions with others. I was just sort of on the outskirts of the group. That was because of my own paranoia regarding you know what.

I nearly missed my stop I was in such a daze but thankfully realised just in time and jumped up, crinkling like mad to rush for the exit. I don’t know why but my waddle seemed to have more emphasis and the short walk from getting off the bus to my door felt like the disposable had come loose and was swinging around with each step... it also felt a bit clammy.  Not that it was unpleasant, quite the contrary, every movement meant it rubbed against all those greasy dangly bits down there... so it was really quite nice.

# tbc #


Part 8

The day had been weird and uncomfortable but Tom had done his best to make sure I was okay. Needless to say I was grateful, very grateful for arriving when he did but also he’d set off an array of feelings that I was only just coming to realise I had. I mean, I’d started having thoughts, you know, those types of thoughts about being with a couple of my mates and now... Tom.

I’m eighteen and had never even thought about anyone in a sexual manner; not pop stars or movie stars or TV personalities... well, at least I didn’t think so. As I walked through the door mum was as always there to greet me. I wondered if this was something I could or should discuss with her.

After the usual pleasantries I went up and changed, both my workwear and nappy, and returned feeling drier but unfortunately no more relaxed.

Mummm.” Yes it was that furtive enquiring tone again.

“Yes love,” she could see I wanted to discuss something serious.

“Erm, this is difficult, errr, um,” She reached across the table and held my hand.

“What is it sweetie, you look a bit sad.” She gave my hand an encouraging squeeze.

Now I’m not sure you believe me or not but, as I’ve said, it is only since I’ve known Billy and Mark wear protection that I’ve thought of them as anything other than friends. I mean, I know that we’ve hung around together for ages but I see them in a different ‘light’ now and it’s something I quite like but also a bit worried about. I don’t know if it’s because we’ve got something in common I doubt others have, or I like their vulnerability, or, and this I have to confess maybe true, I fancy them in nappies.

James, Ralph and Kili are my main friends from school but we’ve all hung around together since we were kids and I don’t see them in the same way. Well, maybe James but not as definite as Billy and Adam who I’ve dreamt about. For instance: We’re playing around in our nappies like big toddlers but it’s fun and erotic I suppose but that’s only since I’ve known about their wearing protection. So, yes, all that imagery has been going through my brain and had a particular affect - I splatter into my nappy when they (and their padding) enter my thoughts.  

That same ‘tingle’ that ran through my body on discovering their secret and able to visualise what exactly that might look like was a huge leap in my self-awareness. And now, in just those few hours since it happened, I’ve had a similar ‘tingle’ when I think about Tom... and my nappy not only ends up wet but sticky.

In my thoughts (my damned incessant thoughts) Tom isn’t wearing a nappy he’s just understanding about mine. In fact, he loves me wearing them and thinks I look cute. He’s always touching me and them... and that mental sensation alone is enough for me to blast more stuff into the multi-layered fabric.

To be honest, none of this is within my knowledge or comfort zone but I have to admit there are things happening to my body (and things fill my mind) when I think of both situations. It’s not even confusing. I know exactly what my desire is and “whoosh” that desire has a reaction.

I know I can talk to mum about anything... I just wonder if this is...

I caught up with my answer. “Not sad really, ermmm, just a bit confused.”

She looked again, waiting for me to continue. So I bit the bullet.

“Mum, how do I know if I’m, er, ummm, you know... errrr... gay?” I looked down at her hand that was gently stroking mine.

Mum took a few seconds before she answered.

I wondered if at eighteen I should know about these things but in truth... my sexuality has been on the backburner and it’s never been an issue. Maybe it won’t be now but how do I know?

“Sweetheart, you’re eighteen. You know what you like, who you like and what makes you feel warm inside. We’ve already seen you’re growing up...” I was embarrassed again at the memory of getting a hard-on in front of mum that time. “You don’t have to put a label on it if you don’t want. Is it becoming something you’re worried about?” There was that usual loving concern in her voice.

“No, well, yes, I mean...” I took a deep breath. “Recently there have been a few times when I’ve wondered about my friends and how I feel about them.” I didn’t mention any names but she probably could have guessed, except she wouldn’t have known about Tom as I’ve never mentioned him.

Now I didn’t know whether to tell her about this gallant knight coming to my rescue and how it made me feel, without revealing my supervisors role in the drama. Should I tell her about him?

So I did.


When I’d finished mum looked at me and said, “Well this guy Tom seems like a really nice person but your boss... is a bit of a shit.”

“Well that’s what the rest of the team think as well,” I grimaced, “but he’s still my boss and I don’t know how much sway he has with management. I don’t want to lose my job.”

“Still, I think Tom is correct, the best way forward is to put in a formal complaint... take Tom with you as a witness... and refuse to do any of this sneaky supervisor’s illicit work. Stick to what you’re paid to do.”

We discussed it a little more and in the end, as always, mum made me feel better and was in control of my decisions. It was Friday night but I had nothing planned so mum did something she hadn’t done for ages, ordered a pizza and opened a bottle of wine.

I didn’t have any wine, to be honest, I’ve tried it several times and I can’t say it refreshes me like a can of coke or a cold glass of milk or a nice cup of tea come to that. So, I just drank my Coke, ate my ham and mushroom pizza and watched some murder mystery set in the Caribbean.  By 10pm my eyes were drooping so I excused myself and headed for bed.

Although it had been an eventful day, and the fact I’d all but told mum I thought I might be gay, I felt worn out. She hadn’t reacted badly or otherwise to the news and merely offered her usual encouragement for me to “follow my heart”. We’d cuddled and that was the important thing but she did warn me against mistaking my feelings for being ‘gay’ and ‘grateful’. Then she smiled and admitted that it was possible to be both.

As I made my way upstairs she asked if I needed a change but I was still okay from earlier. So once I got to my room simply threw off my shorts and climbed into bed; the rustle of the protective sheet and my plastic pants welcoming me into my nice comfy pit. I grabbed my dum-dum and slipped it between my lips. I wasn’t sure I’d need it but just fancied having it there to help over any little worrying thoughts I might have had. However, between mum, me and I suppose Tom, we’d sorted out my next move.

Oh... Tom was now at the forefront of my mind and completely without any help my body shook as a stream of stuff spurted into my padding. A feeling of total contentment then swamped my body so within moments, nursing and just a little damp, I drifted off.


I slept long and deep but of course woke up to my now usual soaked padding. I hadn’t had dreams as far as I could remember but had been slightly restless because I knew at one point I suddenly experienced that jerk – you know, you’re suddenly falling and your senses kick in to prevent it... that jerk. I know because I flung out my arm and knocked stuff off my bedside table and at the same time my wrist hit the edge. I woke up with a sore hand and a few bits and pieces lying on the carpet.

I started to climb out of bed but my wrist really hurt so was holding it and feeling a bit sorry for myself. Mum came in when she heard movement and saw me clutching my arm to my chest.

She instantly knew something was up. “What’s wrong sweetie?”

“Nothing why,” I was trying to be brave.

“Well sweetheart you look like an injured puppy - big sad, watery eyes and clasping what looks like an injured paw.”

“Yer, I bashed it on the edge of the table.” I nodded accusingly in the direction of the immobile wooden object. “Must have lashed out in the night,” I added by way of explanation.

“Were you dreaming about Mr Tridwell?”

“Not that I remember... just falling and tried to stop myself but...” I left the rest unsaid as I tried to get up and pull off my plastic pants. My hand was still too sore to get much of a grip.

“Okay, it looks like you need a hand so just relax I’ll help and then go get a shower.” Mum pulled down and released the soggy mass and relieved me of the rest of my sleepwear. She even turned on the shower and guided me naked into the cubicle.

“Mum, mum, mum, I think I can manage now.” I said a little grumpily because she was patting my bare bum as I made my way. She thought this was delightfully funny whereas I was a little embarrassed.

“Does my little baby want his mummy to wash him,” she teased as I struggled with the body gel. She knew exactly what she was saying (and in such a mummy type voice) as to wind me up after our recent conversation.

“Thank you... but no.” It was difficult to play the wounded teenager because of being spoken to like a baby when your mother is holding your soaked nappy.

“All right, but if you’re not out in five minutes I’m sending in a search and rescue party.”

With the sound of the shower I couldn’t hear what she’d said. “No mum, why would I want a party?”


The weekend without work had left me plenty of time to think about the situation. I thought that Tridwell may well have sussed that I’d probably not sent an account in to HR and was calling my bluff. The thing was it had really rattled him when he thought I had so perhaps, for my own safety, I should do so. Of course I’d do as mum suggested and report the incident but also my mind was full of Tom.

On Saturday afternoon mum and I were out in garden doing a bit of tidying up (my ‘paw’ feeling a bit better). Eventually we stopped and as the sun was out took the opportunity to grab a few relaxing rays.

“Penny for them.” Mum was looking at me and I hadn’t noticed. I was unintentionally slowly rubbing the silky bulge under my shorts and peering off into the distance.


“Your thoughts... you look miles away.”

“Mmm, well, yes, I erm...”

“You’ve gone all dreamy-eyed so I suspect it must be about something, or someone, special.”

Why I felt guilty thinking of Tom I don’t know but even though it was mum asking, and she already knew everything, I got a bit defensive.

“No, no. Just wondering whether it would be better to tell HR via email or a written letter, which would look more professional?”

Oh, really?” Mum knew me too well. “If that’s the case you need to send it as an email and cc a couple of people into it so there are copies for proof, should it be needed.”

Mum was giving me sound advice even if she didn’t believe that was at the forefront of my mind.

“Yes... that’s what I was thinking.” I pretended.

She was still looking at me with a half-smile on her face.

“I’m not prying love just want to see you happy and that faraway smile does not say email to me.”

Although I had nothing to feel guilty about I suddenly realised that I was filling my nappy. Thankfully I’d put on a robust pair of plastic pants under my shorts but the suddenness took me by surprise.

“Erm, I’m off to my room I’ll... erm..”

“Okay love, what do you want for dinner tonight I was thinking Pasta Carbonara?”

“Yes, yes, that will be fine.”


I hurried up to my room and stood in front of the mirror, dropped my shorts and plastic pants and saw how the disposable had absorbed a load of liquid. I had no idea I’d been storing so much pee but boy did I need to change it certainly wouldn’t have lasted for a second burst.

I stopped to think because it wasn’t the first time I’d done this whilst thinking about Tom. The thing is, in less than a day, since he’d rushed in and rescued me; I’d seen him as a hero... my hero. Not only that, as had become very apparent to me, I quite liked him. No, not quite liked him... liked him loads and needed to get these feelings in some kind of order.

It was no good; I couldn’t obsess about a work mate (and so quickly), what if he didn’t think in the same terms? What if it was only an act of gallantry? Oh God how rapidly my life got turned upside-down. A few days ago I had no worries (apart from my usual anxieties) but now, well now I was in danger of grassing up my boss and making a fool of myself over someone who just helped me out of a sticky situation. That isn’t me... I just live happily with mum and don’t have such uncertainties. Except I do, over everything, so why was this any different? I wasn’t sure I liked this growing up and going to work malarkey, it was all so puzzling. How do you negotiate all these complications correctly?

I reached for my dummy and sat at my laptop, yes wearing only the soaked nappy, and as my wrist still ached a bit, typed the email to Mrs Garfield one-handed.


Having spell-checked the account of what happened, and had mum read it to make sure I didn’t sound like a whiny little toddler, I pressed send so now my future was in the lap of the gods. Of course I’d cc’d Tom and Professor Rashaan and hoped I hadn’t crossed some kind of company protocol. Mum and Tom had both emphasised how contemptuously I’d been treated by Tridwell, as if of no importance, so it was only right I should stick up for myself. Mum said I’d done a good job so far... I hadn’t told her that I wet myself when an angry Supervisor grabbed my lapels.

Despite mum’s words of compassion and reassurance my stomach was still doing loop-di-loops and I wondered if I’d done the right thing. I couldn’t settle and even the TV didn’t distract my mind from going over and over the things that I’ve no doubt done wrong and are sure to surface when Mrs Garfield calls me in to explain myself. I wish I drank then I could do what I see worried people on TV do and drink themselves into oblivion. Alas, come morning, and my problems had converted to an extremely messy nappy. Thankfully, mum’s insistence that I wear thick fabric nappies and ‘robust’ plastic pants to sleep in paid off. My full night time padding showed I was just a little baby who had absolutely no control. So, although the mess was well contained, what little self-esteem I had slipped to an all-time low - so much for reaching adulthood. 

I lay there thinking about what I’d done. No tears this time just the knowledge that I’d crapped myself yet again and wondering if this was going to be a regular thing. I could feel the gritty mess covering my arse and the heavy weight of a well-sodden nappy clutched against my genitals thinking it was time to take action. It was Monday morning and so much I knew was going to happen today... this was an early setback I just hoped it wasn’t a portent of things to come.

However, the thought was more of a mental thing because I could hardly move I was so disgusted with myself. Then for some reason Tom slipped into my head - I briefly wondered what he’d think of me shitting in a nappy? The thought of this good-looking twenty something protecting and changing me filled my head and totally unbidden... I spurted a slimy load to join the rest of the mess.

Now I really did feel guilty, ashamed and guilty... dirty, ashamed and guilty.

In spite of that, WOW!


I eventually roused myself and set to the business of cleaning up and getting ready for work. I dreaded what the day would hold once I got there and contemplated wearing briefs instead of my usual protection. One look at the heavy load I’d just dispensed with indicated that now was not the best time to take such a risk. Maybe, sometime in the future I might feel able to pursue the wearing of underpants but to be on the safe side. Especially as I thought it was going to be a torrid day, I settled on my usual thick armour and found that the thick disposable’s ‘hug’ gave me the security I felt I needed. I coupled that with a soak pad or two and finished off with the thickest pair of rubber pants I could find. Nothing was going to escape should I fall victim to my own anxieties.

Mum asked if I was going to be OK and of course I said I’d be fine.

“It’ll sort itself out love.” She’d whispered in my ear as she passed a little plastic bag that I knew contained extra disposables. “Just in case sweetheart.”

I acknowledged her thoughtfulness and concern so slipped them into my backpack where there was now a permanent stash.

Mum knows me better than anyone so I wasn’t fooling her, I suspect she could see the anxiety etched on my face as I grabbed my jacket and made my way to the bus stop.

There were six others waiting so I just joined the end of the queue hoping the bus wouldn’t be long but also dreading getting into work and what might be waiting there for me. There was no one else I knew on the bus so the journey was without any distractions, which of course made me think. Not that I hadn’t done anything but think of the consequences since I’d sent that email but now, as the building got nearer my anxiety level grew exponentially. My nappy was a sodden mass by the time I arrived.


I paused a moment before the main entrance, the lanyard around my neck would admit me but then what? I’d thought up so many different scenarios but none of them ended well. The main and most disturbing scene I conjured up whilst on the bus, was one where as punishment for my ‘false and harmful accusation of my superior’ I was made to work in nothing but a nappy so that all my colleagues could see that I was nothing more than a pants wetting baby with a toddler fetish. Tridwell’s words of condemnation and mockery had hit home. There was so much nervous liquid held in the fabric that I was now walking with a heavy and obvious shuffle.


Anyway, despite my many misgivings on whether I’d done the correct thing or not I had to get this over with so no use waiting. I held my pass up to the device and after a brief wait and ‘click’ the door slid open and I entered the building. Of course my first job was to make my way to the second floor and change before I met anyone else. I put my head down, determined not to make eye contact with anyone until I’d completed that task but of course I should have known... that wasn’t to be.

Mrs Garfield had been waiting and as soon as she saw me called me into her office. She looked most agitated so any chance that I could go and change first went out the window as she waited at the door until I was inside. She indicated the chair where I’d happily sat at my review but knew that any conversation now was not going to be about how well I was doing.

She sat down behind her desk and looked from me to her computer and then back.

“Jason, this is a very serious allegation,” I was waiting for her to say something angrily and that I was fired but she didn’t. “You poor man having this happen.”

Her entire demeanour changed to one of sympathy and although I was holding my breath in trepidation I felt tears unexpectedly flow.

Apart from the soaked padding I hadn’t realised just how fearful I was and those tears became a flood. She passed a tissue... and then another. Whether I was eighteen or not didn’t matter because whatever I’d been clinging onto for security slipped into an abyss of anguish.

“I’m sorry Jason but this type of thing should never happen.” Her voice was low and face just full of genuine concern but I took very little comfort from that. Why it had suddenly become such an emotional situation escaped me - the tears were genuine but totally unexpected. “I’ve already spoken to Mr Tynan and he’s confirmed what he witnessed... the altercation with Mr Tridwell...and of course I shall be speaking to him later.”

As I calmed down I felt a fool for letting my emotions get the better of me. I’m sure no one else but a child would have burst into tears and yet, I did and I couldn’t help myself. Mrs Garfield let me take time to get back a little control.

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to go back to your lab just yet but Professor Rashaan has asked for you to accompany him today. He feels he’s been rather busy and has neglected his youngest assistant. Perhaps you could nip along to his office, when you feel up to it and, I suspect, after a visit to the washroom to splash a little water on your face...” she tilted her head as if it was just a suggestion but a good one.

She carried on saying something but I remembered I was completely soaked so needed to make that visit before I did anything else. I made my excuses and left but not before thanking her for her concern. I also apologised for creating difficulties for her but she just smiled and said that’s what HR is for.


I made my way to the washroom and as I still had my backpack found an empty stall (thankfully they were all unoccupied) and with some relief pulled out my dum-dum, sat on the closed loo seat and sucked and sucked to calm myself down before undertaking the ‘big clean up’.

I felt tired and drained and the day hadn’t really started yet. I wondered if the Professor’s interest was going to be just a diversionary tactic to placate what Tridwell had done. I’d hardly said more than half a dozen words to the Professor since I’d been there so I was more than a little anxious about what might happen. However, he was the man in charge and perhaps it wouldn’t be a bad thing to get to know him better. I didn’t know which way to think. Again I was building up problems where they might not exist but I was still so unsure of where I stood... would I still be in a job tomorrow?

Eventually my dummy was able to sooth most of my trepidation and I was capable enough to clean up without too much difficulty. However, as I was completely soaked, I made sure this time the heavy soggy mass didn’t slop onto the floor. I was very careful even though I knew there was no one else about. Once freshly nappied and with dum-dum firmly hidden deep in my lab coat pocket I made my way to the professor’s office.

He was giving a little lecture to his staff (minus Mr Tridwell) about an urgent new project the company had been allocated by the government. Although some of the team would continue with whatever they were working on, he was putting together another group to concentrate of this ‘special assignment’.

He looked up and saw me wavering in the doorway.

“Ah, Jason isn’t it? Glad you could join us please take a seat.”

Tom had budged up so that the bench he was sitting on now had space so I slipped between him and Jimmy Floyd to hear the rest of what was being envisaged for the forthcoming project.

As I’ve said I had to sign both an NDA and an Official Secrets Act contract before I could start working at the firm so just what we’d be working on has to be quite vague. Just to say it was theory working alongside practical projections but it would appear that I was one of the chosen to work on this with Tom, whose degree was in this very area, and four others. I felt both privileged and happy. It also meant that I would no longer have Tridwell as my supervisor I’d be working directly to the Professor.


Now although I did quite well with my ‘O’ levels, and I expected to do the same when the ‘A’ level results came out, I wasn’t a genius in any particular area. However, I was looking forward to being part of the ‘special team’ the prof had put together.

Of course I wondered if it was a salve by the company to help HR over a tricky situation with Tridwell but, because I’d be working with Tom, I didn’t really mind. As long as me and that horrible supervisor had as little to do with each other the better as far as I was concerned. Anyway, the new area we’d be working was in another part of the building, closer to the prof’s office, and the facilities were much better. Even the small kitchen area for making coffee and microwaving snacks was better equipped.

After that first day it was suggested that we all go out for a meal and a drink to celebrate this auspicious start to what the rest of the guys thought was an advance in their careers. I suppose it was also a sort of bonding exercise and even better, the professor was picking up the tab.

I called home to tell mum what had happened and that I’d be late home. She was full of praise for me taking control and hoped I’d not get too drunk. This was a joke on her part because she knew I didn’t drink... in fact I hated the stuff. However, this was going to be the start of a new development in my career so wasn’t too sure what would happen.

Before we left for the bistro that had been decided on, I went to the restroom to change out of a very damp nappy and into something a lot fresher and drier, I almost skipped along to join the guys as we set off the hundred yards or so down the main road to our destination.

The first round of pre-meal drinks came and I was the only one to order orange juice. There was much joking about this but was all good banter and I didn’t get the impression anyone thought I was spoiling the party, even if it had entered my head. I knew I didn’t like to drink but also knew that maybe, at my age, I was expected to join in. However, I wasn’t forced and as Tom was by my side the entire time... that was pretty cool. Conversely, he liked a drink and think he was enjoying the company of his new teammates. I suppose, if you’ve been part of a team before, and I knew Tom had at university, you get into a habit of being involved.

I was surprised at just how dry and funny the professor was and the whole team seemed to bounce off his witty comments. Tom made sure I was involved in everything and at one point he wondered if it was OK to tell the others about Tridwell but shook my head, I didn’t really want to think about him at all.


Just before we were called through to the eating area as our table was ready, Jenny, Mrs Garfield’s secretary arrived, she was dating Amish one of the team, and whispered to him that Tridwell had resigned. She didn’t know why but was to take immediate effect. She saw him packing his desk and security taking his pass.

Tom patted me on the back, “You’ve just got rid of a very nasty piece of work. Not bad for your first couple of months working”. He laughed but there was only him, me and the prof who knew the real reason.

Anyway, we ordered our food, and another round of drinks plus wine to go with the meal. As I say the professor was very good and not as serious as I expected. This gave the rest of us licence to also be a bit silly. However, once the meal arrived I was coerced into having a glass of wine, to “celebrate my victory” Tom whispered but I much preferred the carbonated water.

It was a great night and Tom bundled me into a taxi at the end of the night. I’d consumed a couple of glasses of chardonnay (I think that’s what it was) and was feeling quite light headed.

“I shhallll,” he slurred, “look forward to seeing much more of you in fu... futuuure,” and patted my well-padded bottom as I climbed into the back seat. For a moment I hoped he’d climb in with me but he just smiled his enigmatic smile and reiterated that he couldn’t wait for us to start to work “....more closely together.”

Despite having had a drink or two I don’t think I was reading the situation wrong. I smiled and the resulting urge to give him a kiss was strong but stopped myself. Hmmm, that had never happened before... well... except in my most recent of dreams.

# tbc #

Part 9

Another confession.

As I think I’ve made clear since that incident only a few days ago Tom had featured considerably in my daily and nightly thoughts. I’d tried to justify it by assuming I was just overly grateful to him but that wasn’t the case. When the professor said that the new team meant me and Tom would be working together I felt a huge surge fill my padding. Just the thought of us both together had produced an orgasm I had trouble not calling out. As it was, the noise I made sounded like I was just pleased to be part of the team – yeah. How or why I keep getting these sudden uninvited explosions in my nappy I didn’t know but I can’t pretend they are unwelcome.


When I arrived home from the meal mum was waiting to hear all about my day. I was enthusiastic and even if slightly slurry I told her how excited I was about this new development.  She was equally excited and hugged me tightly.

“And how was the meal?”

I then described what I had and confessed to trying a couple of glasses of wine. I wondered if she would be disappointed but she just smiled and asked if there had been any other ‘developments’. She asked this question in such a way I wondered what she knew already.

“Oh yes,” I cottoned on, “Mr Tridwell resigned so...”

“Oh that’s good darling but that’s not quite what I meant.”

Well, she may want more information but I certainly wasn’t going to tell her about my sticky nappy...

“Was Tom enthusiastic about having you on his team?” She queried.

“Well, it’s not his team... I mean... we’re on a team together and s’pose he’s happy about it. He did say he was looking forward to seeing a lot more of me now.”

I saw her smile as if it was a job successfully completed and then looked at the clock.

“Well I’m sure he is darling... I’m sure he is.”

With one last kiss she said she was off to bed and was left with my thoughts. I wasn’t going to be long myself but one thing I did know... my sticky nappy was staying on for the rest of the night.


The following morning my padding was a complete and utter disaster area but I’d never felt more excited. Although a little tired, I’d spent quite a bit of the night thinking of Tom, I felt elated I would now be spending most of my working day in his company... at close quarters. I had briefly wondered what he’d make of me wearing a nappy but, as he’d not said anything when he first knew about it I assumed that it was of little or no consequence to him.

I cleaned myself up and destroyed the manky disposable and replaced it with a nice, firm purple one with an extra soaker... I had no idea how the day was going to progress but wanted to be ready. I slipped into a rather robust pair of clear vinyl pants I’d recently discovered among the items mum had bought and hoped they’d meet Tom’s approval, should he somehow get to see them. I guess I now wanted him to see my padding but wasn’t sure how that could ‘accidentally’ happen.

Once I arrived at work the place was abuzz with the news that Tridwell had gone. I was quite surprised to note just how hated he was because the mood in the office had lifted considerably. Speculation was rife as to the whys and wherefores but one of the unlikely scenarios was that he’d been head-hunted by a rival and to avoid taking company secrets was made to go immediately. This was quickly dismissed because no one actually believed that anyone would want him working for them. Of course, that was equally unjustified because he was obviously worth something to a rival company. He wasn’t a dummy.

Anyway, my involvement was never mentioned and I was happy to keep it that way as long as it suited management. I wasn’t going to spoil the new situation I now found myself in and Tom had sidled up to me at the coffee machine first thing and suggested we keep it on the down low.  In response I made a fool of myself by excitedly telling him how much I’d enjoyed the meal the night before and hoped we’d do it again. Too keen I thought to myself afterwards. He had just smiled and said it was fun but left it at that.

To be honest, his less than enthusiastic response to my ‘invite’ dampened my initial spirit as we got things ready for the beginning of the project. Of course I was still the junior and ‘gopher’ but the atmosphere in the lab was better than where we’d worked before... more friendly and efficient.

Professor Rashaan was a very hands-on type of leader, also very encouraging. As we all wore the required white lab coats it was difficult for anyone to know who the boss was. Once the more detailed side of the project had been discussed we settled down to our side of the venture. Although we were all working towards the same end, there were several different strands that needed to be explored and of course, my job was to help service all areas with the group’s requirements, whilst keeping tabs on what went in and out of the lab. I was quite surprised I’d been given such an important task of ‘inventory controller’ and loved the responsibility.

At one point Tom followed me to the loo as I needed a change. My disappointment at his response to my ‘invite’ had led to an unintentional flow, which, fuelled by all the coffee I’d drunk, was inevitable. I was surprised to see him as I entered the restroom but he looked concerned and asked if he’d said something to upset me.

“No, I just, well... erm...” I didn’t know what to say, even though in my head I wanted to blurt out how much I liked him. Instead I just stood there all hot and bothered and in a heavy wet nappy.

“Look Jason, we’re colleagues and at work so we need to maintain some sort of professionalism. I think I know how grateful you are but... and our meal out was nice... here, in the lab and around the building, we are, colleagues.”

“But, but...”

He was looking directly into my eyes.

“However, however, away from work who knows. I like you and I think you like me but, for the time being at least... and until we get this project underway... let’s remain friends, eh?”

I looked up at him and saw there was a smile on his face.

“With benefits” I cheekily asked. It was a phrase I’d heard but was a bit unsure to what it actually meant though felt silly and inappropriate at the time. Where this bravado suddenly sprang from I don’t know but it got the reaction I was hoping for.

He burst out laughing and hugged me.

“Well you certainly don’t mince words do you?” and patted my full padded bottom.

I didn’t want to break this moment but suddenly realised about my padding and I still wasn’t sure for definite that he approved.

“I think I need to change.”

“Oh, I don’t think so Jason, you’ll do just as you are.”

“I mean my, you know, padding.” I whispered the last word wondering if he was still aware of my nappy.

“Oh sorry, yes, of course,” he was suddenly a bit apologetic, “your nappy.” He stepped back and appraised me once more. “Jason, I think a nappy just about suits you down to the ground... maybe... maybe...”

At that moment someone else barged into the toilet and he simply asked if I’d be OK. When he got a nod from me he acknowledged the other guy who’d just arrived then turned and left. I entered the cubicle and quietly set about my business and wondered what exactly he meant by ‘maybe’?

That hug had sent yet another spurt into my nappy but my mood had changed... I was happy. I could read all sorts of stuff into “Maybe” but for the moment I was content to know that he wanted to be friends. I could cope with that and I skipped out of the cubicle with a fresh thick disposable feeling on top of the world and eager to do my bit for the company.


By the end of the week things seemed to be going great guns, the Prof was happy with the team’s initial response and everything looked to be going in a very positive direction. Tom and I had kept things on a strictly professional level, although I can’t say that about my personal night times when things got anything but professional. However, on Friday night he asked me if I was doing anything on Saturday. I had nothing planned so asked if I’d like to go with him to a rugby game that one of his friends was playing in.

Now, although I like a kick about as much as anyone, rugby is not at the top of my interests but as Tom was I agreed to an afternoon of watching his mate play a game. Of course I had hoped it would look like I shared an interest but mainly it was that it would be just me and him. I had forgotten to factor in the couple of hundred other people we joined on the touchline.

Rugby has a lot going for it – thirty or so guys in tiny shorts jumping all over each other. However, I let myself be distracted as I imagined each of these beefy players wearing a nice colourful well-padded disposable under those little shorts... oddly enough that perked up my interest.

If I had any doubts before I was definitely turning into a pervy gay boy with a nappy fetish?


We went for drinks after, well Tom drank but I stuck to Coca Cola where the banter in the clubhouse was noisy and entertaining. Tom introduced me as his new work colleague and I noticed a few nods of approval from one or two of his mates. I wasn’t sure if this was some kind of trial endorsement I was being subjected to or if this was how he treated all his friends but suddenly I felt a little nervous. Yep, and my nappy was filling without my knowledge, well to begin with at least.

I had my little backpack which I kept with me whenever I went anywhere just in case of situations like this, so excused myself to go to the toilet.

Before I had chance to get up, Tom looked at his watch and said we were both late for an appointment and that we’d better be off. I had no idea we had anything else planned but still wanted to change first.

“I need to go to the loo first,” I spoke quietly to Tom hoping he’d understand.

“Yes, but I live just around the corner so perhaps you can, well... do what you do there.”

I nodded so we said our farewells, which was accompanied by a few “Hope to see you again soon Jason” which was reassuring.

He was correct; his place was just around the corner but on the eighteenth floor of a twenty storey block of flats. Thankfully the lift was working.


The journey up was a little strange. I’m not sure either of us was sure what we wanted to say. Did he want to discuss my wet nappy or was that the last thing he wanted and was merely trying to save me the embarrassment of changing in a small public toilet? As it was I got more and more nervous the higher we went and my padding received an extra dousing in return. However, he smiled as we reached the eighteenth floor and the doors opened. His flat – No.142 – was along a short well-kept corridor and had a couple of evergreen plants guarding the door, which I thought was a nice touch.

However, my anxiety had reached fever pitch (if that’s a thing) and I desperately wanted to be back home and in the comfort of my own place with mum and settling down to a meal on our knees in front of the tele. Despite his welcoming and encouraging smile, panic hit and I turned to leave.

“Sorry Tom, erm, I can’t... I don’t... I’m not erm...” I was confused by my own confusion.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa...” Tom reached for my hand. “This is just a place to change... nothing more.”

I could see he meant what he said but I was at his place and... well...? I know it’s my own fault because over the past few days and nights this was all I’d dreamed about but...

“Look Jason, nothing is going to happen, I like you too much for any stupid moves on my part.” He was trying to be reassuring and nice but all I could think was that I’d led him on and now I was bottling it. “Just come in, change, we can have something to eat. I’ve got a couple of lovely frozen lasagnes in the freezer...” he raised his eyebrows in a mock appealing fashion, “or just a cup of tea... it’s up to you. No pressure.”

Stupidly I’d made this all about me and didn’t pick up on the fact that he was offering me more than being a colleague, he was interested in me as a person, someone he wanted to spend time with... a possible boyfriend... and I was blowing it.

“Jason, if you want to go I won’t stop you but, from the way you’re waddling I suggest you change first...  I don’t want you getting a rash on my account.”

My anxiety missed his caring nature, which I should have remembered since he’d rescued me from an angry supervisor, but I had to agree my padding was more than a bit distracting and needed sorting.


The living room was really quite nice, like the flowery welcome on the doorstep it had plants everywhere. I mean, despite that, it was quite obviously a lad’s place because magazines were scattered around, the remotes weren’t organised neatly and the cushions weren’t all plumped and ready to receive visitors. However, it was well decorated and the atmosphere had a pleasant floral tribute (God I sound like I’m from House and Homes). It was very much like mine and mum’s place, we didn’t stand on ceremony but had a relaxed way of living... it was just the two of us after all.

He pointed to the bathroom. “It’s quite small so might want to clean up in their first and then, if you need a bit of space, my bedroom is next door.” He then winked, “and should you need a hand just holler.”

I wasn’t sure if he meant it or not but none of this seemed to faze him. I was about to change from a sopping wet nappy into a dry childish disposable and he hadn’t batted an eyelid.

“I’m sure you wouldn’t want that.” I grimaced.

“Why not? I used to change my little brother all the time and he never complained once.” He smiled then went to the tiny kitchen and I could hear him filling the kettle. Tea?


As I stripped and cleaned myself up I began to think about what he’d said – he had a little brother who he used to change, so nappies weren’t a new thing to him. I wondered if this was recently or, well, when? Anyway, I decided I’d do it all on my own and then I wouldn’t feel needy by us being that intimate. I have to admit my feelings were all over the place and I’m not sure a sensible thought was anywhere in my head. Alas, just as I taped up my fresh disposable (all thick and cartoony) I saw a pair of his rugby shorts hanging on the radiator. Immediately, I had an image in my head of Tom wearing the same rugby kit as his mates and shot a load instantaneously into it.

How the hell does that happen?

I could feel the greasy globs as my cock settled down but I was flabbergasted at what reaction just thinking of Tom had on my body. I’d have to get control over that wouldn’t I?

Finally, I clambered into a fresh pair of plastic pants and pulled up my chinos. There seemed to be a bigger bulge than normal but that didn’t worry me... what we were going to chat about did.

Tom looked relaxed sat on the couch, two mugs of tea were at either end of a little coffee table and he smiled as I entered the room.

“Feeling better?”

Guiltily I nodded wondering if he knew what had just happened in my not so freshly applied nappy.

“Good.” He sipped at his tea.

“Erm, you said you have a little brother you used to change...”

“Hmm, yes, David, he was four years old when he passed... congenital heart disease...” He looked sad for a moment at the thought but then perked up. “He was such a lively little guy... always into things and, even though we knew we wouldn’t have him for long... he was such a happy little lad... I think of him often.”

I was stunned. I wasn’t expecting our conversation to go in this direction. This was personal stuff, VERY personal and yet he thought he could share that memory, a memory that he found comfort in with me. I was shaken.

Ohh poor thing,” was my comment.

He shrugged. “Yes, I was nine when he died but was such a lively little boy whilst he lived... you never knew what he’d get up to next. He certainly kept me and my parents on our toes.” He chuckled at the thought. “We shared a room but he was also quite incontinent so I helped mum and dad out with his changes. Even then, he never let the fact he was still in nappies whilst his friends were all in undies... it never bothered him...” he added thoughtfully.

“Is that why you like me?” It was an obvious question but of course quite inappropriate to this moment but Tom didn’t mind.

“No,” he smiled that endearing smile, “I liked you from that first morning at the induction. I tried to get your attention, inviting you to sit with us and you know, generally being in your company but you seemed so shy.”

“So, that was before I told you about wearing protection?”

“Afraid so.”  

“But why, erm, uh...” I had to think about this because why hadn’t I noticed at the time?

We both took a swig from our tea to think for a moment.

“Why did you come to Tridwell’s office?” I wondered.

“Well, I’d noticed for a day or two you seemed preoccupied and I also noticed you were avoiding being anywhere in his company so I was, believe it or not, coming to ask if anything was wrong or if someone had upset you. I had no idea that Tridwell was that much of a rat but I’d listened to part of the conversation before I came in and that confirmed it. I hate bullies and you were being bullied so...”

This was all too much because my emotions were about to erupt in a mass of tears so I almost leapt into his arms and gave him a worryingly sobbing hug. I didn’t want to let go and it was even nicer when my hug was returned.


We cuddled and I noticed he was sobbing as well. I know I’d identified with his loss of a brother and I think the loss of my father lay in this mutual grief. I didn’t tell him about dad but I have to say that hug felt really, really good.

This was not turning out to be the change I’d been expecting but the fact I was being hugged by my hunky friend, whilst wearing a fresh almost clean nappy was absolutely wonderful. I knew he was aware of my padding because he was gently patting it and rubbing his hand up and down trying to console me... again it felt wonderful. Without thinking I reached into my pants pocket and pulled out my dummy. It was only when I was about to insert it between my lips that I realised what I was doing and froze.

“What’s that?” He queried.

“Oh, umm, nothing,” I answered nervously because it was pretty obvious.

“Does it help?”

“When I get nervous or sad it sorts of helps but...”

“Well Jase, I didn’t think you could get more perfect but...” He gently guided my hand to my mouth in encouragement, “just do what’s best for you.” And with those simple, but reassuring few words, it slipped between my lips and I was sucking on it contentedly.

(Did he just say I couldn’t have got more perfect?)


I stayed wrapped in his arms for quite some time. He didn’t seem in a rush for us to be untangled and it just felt right. I mean, I know he’s in his twenties, and I know I’m eighteen but he’s over six feet tall and built like an athlete, whereas I’m a scrawny five foot seven and felt as safe in his arms as I did when I wore my nappy. So, for the moment I was twice as safe as I’d ever been.

As I relaxed and the sobbing dried up I was enjoying being in this man’s friendly embrace. I didn’t want to spoil the moment by talking and breaking the spell that I thought we were both under. He continued to pat my padded bum and I just snuggled in closer into his neck.

“Jase, Jason.”  Strangely I was almost asleep.

“Er, ermm, ummm whashhh?” I answered my dummy making me sound drunk.

“Although I’m enjoying this... I’m not sure you should go to sleep here... I have a bed.”

Of course because I was all comfortable I just assumed so was Tom but for all I knew my bony knee could have been poking somewhere it shouldn’t or I might simply be taking advantage of a nice guy. However, I did feel relaxed and of course, it was Tom.


“OK? You’re OK with moving to the bedroom and getting more comfortable?” He searched my eyes for any doubt.

This was a big move because I didn’t really know what I was agreeing to but desperately wanted this hero of a man to do things with and to me. I’d been dreaming of a time like this, when it was just us two and he could explore and do what he liked to me... well that was how my dreams seemed to go.

I could see that he was a little unsure himself but acted like he’d come to a decision about something and this was the way to go.

I nodded.

He lifted me up and carried me to his bedroom.


I woke up on my stomach naked. I could only have dozed for a short while but it was already dark outside. A look across and the clock indicated it was 22:03 so it was later than I thought and I’d slept longer than I thought. Something else, I was no longer a virgin... we’d forgotten about taking it slow.

After we’d got to his room he gently undressed me. Yes, I know he was very forward but I think he could tell from my lack of resistance, it was something I wanted to experience. Everything happened unhurriedly, it was as if he was checking to make sure I was OK with each part of what was happening.

“Tell me to stop Jase... if you feel uncertain.” He kept reassuring me and despite anxiety hitting the ceiling I just loved the attention. I was leaking into my padding throughout his thoughtful and gentle caresses, his whispered words and his active tongue. I’d already shot a load when he first kissed me and from then on there was a constant tingle running around my body and into my nappy.

Once I was down to just protection and sucking on my dummy he looked down at me and once again explained how perfect he thought I was. He ran his hand all over my skin lightly tweaking and squeezing, kissing and licking and I was in a different world. I wasn’t sure whether it was anxiety or something completely different but everything about the situation was new, exciting and I wanted to experience whatever this lovely guy could offer.

I know I should have slowed things down, told Tom everything was moving too fast, but we were both caught up in the moment and my body seemed to react positively to what was going on.

He placed his hand on the front of my padding and gently pushed it up against my rigid cock. I let out a moan. He smoothly rubbed the slinky vinyl and whispered how fantastic it felt and no wonder I liked wearing my “sweet little underwear”. He kissed my plastic pants and ran his tongue over them actually tracing the outline of my dick lying throbbing under the childish disposable.

I have to admit this was nothing like I’d imagined when lying in bed at home thinking about Tom. This was real, intense and sexual. My past urges seemed so childish in comparison to what was happening. Tom was allowing me to experience what two guys who were into each other can do.


He kept up a nonstop account of how he felt whilst tugging down my plastic pants and then jokingly nibbled the tabs from my soaked cartoon nappy. He commented on how cute he thought the design was (just like me) and was happy to stop there if I thought he was rushing things.

I encouraged him on and before I knew it was feeling his prodding cock all hot and urgent in my hand. This was a first, I’d never had another man’s cock this close to me but he offered it as a substitute dummy and, as if it was the most natural thing, slipped the engorged tip between my lips.

Of course I’ve seen many a boy’s cock from when in the changing rooms at school. There was an awful lot of banter and comment about each lads ‘development’ but this was different, very different from anything I’d ever experienced before.

Things were happening quickly but I was nervously enjoying all that Tom was doing. This is what I wanted, someone with experience showing me what to do.

If I thought I didn’t know what to do I was wrong because I think what came next was like I was a natural. If not a natural then something in me needed satisfying and an explosion into my nappy was not going to be enough.

Whilst I was kept busy he removed my padding and tossed it aside... I was now like Tom completely naked.

What a strange sensation and what a mouthful. Tom seemed quite large in that department. I only had mine to go on but his was at least twice the size and girth of mine, although thankfully Tom appeared to enjoy playing with it. He took it down his throat with a lovely slurping noise which made me giggle. However, the warm, wet interior of his mouth was a stimulus I never expected and pretty soon was giving him more than that as he swallowed everything down.

My body shuddered and a long moan could be heard. I didn’t know I could make such a noise.

Tom’s body was everything you’d expect from a young man in his sporting prime. He was very much controlling the moment so when he gently put my legs onto his shoulders I didn’t object.

A few minutes of playful teasing got me excited and wriggly. Things were progressing at speed but, again my anxieties had been replaced by a longing, a longing I didn’t know I had. He squeezed some cool gel over my bum and circled his cock around before slowly introducing me to an even more intimate place for a warm, slippery, rock-hard cock to visit. He entered my body.

Oh hell, it was happening.


I’m not sure if it’s the same for everybody but it hurt. I mean I wanted it and encouraged him to do it but, it hurt... to begin with. He took his time and gradually urged his way in. He kept praising my bum muscles because they gripped so tightly.

As far as I knew I was doing nothing but enduring this invasion however, his calming words to breathe and relax eventually found him inside my tight little ring.

Even though my butt muscles were clamped firmly he still made sure I got what he had to offer.

Once he thought I was ready the slow in-out motion began.

I lay there not fully understanding just how significant this was going to be. This was my first real sex and I hadn’t prepared for what was to come.

My squeals were of pain and pleasure though I had no idea I was making so much noise. He shoved as deep as he could go and I wriggled uncomfortably on the end of his cock but then he kissed me. Not a tentative little lip-smack but an intense passionate kiss that took away the pain, my anal muscles relaxed and he went as deep as he could go. The shock of such a thing inside my body had me spurting all over my chest. Meanwhile, my body shuddered as he explored each part of it. The pounding intensified and I cried out but he sought my lips and I hungrily embraced the pain. At the same time I wondered why this hunk liked me so much.


I have no idea how long we were at it. I looked across at the still dozing Tom whose hand was gently laid across my back as if still hugging me. He appeared so relaxed and sleepy, but even with his eyes closed looked absolutely gorgeous. I ached and felt a little weird, astonished at what I’d just done and feeling none too sure of what would happen next. Oddly, I noticed in these moments of my new awareness that my plastic pants were hanging from the bedside lamp and I could just see a slight bit of some cartoon characters lying under the chair. It didn’t look like I’d be wearing that disposable again.

I didn’t want to move but I’d not told mum I’d be staying out so I roused myself to get up. I managed to do so without waking Tom and set about getting dressed. My bum was sore and felt like he was still pumping away. It was a new and unsettling sensation and I wasn’t sure whether I liked it or not. However, we’d done it several times so there must have been some part of me that wanted, no, needed it. Anyway, I thought I’d better put on another disposable to go home in so found my backpack and slipped into a fresh purple one. I retrieved my plastic pants from the lamp, wriggled into them and kissed Tom’s sleepy head goodnight.

I left a note to say “THANKS” and that I’d see him in work Monday morning.

I let myself out and cautiously waddled down to the bus stop which thankfully would take me all the way home.

# tbc #

Part 10

I was surprised to see the bus quite as full that time of night so had to sit next to someone else to get a seat. I have to say that the journey home was strange because, and I don’t know if this is the same for everyone who has just lost their virginity, but my bum was sore and I was wriggling about trying to get comfy. All the time it felt like he was still there and I couldn’t get out of my head that probably, from my constant fidgeting, everyone knew what had just taken place.

Silly I know but there you go. I was guilty and felt like a marked man. I even assumed I must smell of sex but I was more worried about keeping control of my bowels.

Then I got it into my head about what it said about me that I let things escalate so quickly. I don’t know if I was doing it consciously but my bum muscles were trying to both grip tightly and keep what felt like a phantom cock from continuing its sexual pounding.

The trip was taking a while and so got to further thinking about how, out of everyone in the world, had I stumbled on such a good-looking guy as Tom, who wasn’t troubled by someone who wore a nappy?

I thought about his brother David, and how awful it must have been to lose someone you loved that young. Then, for a brief moment, I had a mental image of me as David and Tom changing me with all the giggles and laughter that I assumed surrounded such a task. Then I felt shamefaced about such a thought but nonetheless it stayed with me all the way home.

I’d lost dad at eight, he’d lost David when he was nine, so we’d both suffered loss at an early age. Did we have an invisible bond, perhaps a mutual telepathic understanding that recognised our shared pain? He loved his little brother who still wore a nappy when he passed and I loved my daddy who went out of his way to protect me and keep me safe.

Was that it? Did I see Tom as a sort of surrogate dad?

Oh good grief.


It was just after eleven when I let myself in. Mum was up but in her pyjamas and I suddenly remembered again I’d not let her know I was going to be late.

“Oh mum, sorry, time just seemed to have escaped me.” I looked nervously at her. I was almost sure she’d know what I’d just done because I was convinced such a thing must change people.

“It’s OK sweetheart, my programme has just finished so you’ve not kept me up. Anyway, you’re a grown up you don’t have to clock watch and tell me everything I’m just pleased you’re home safe and sound. Well goodnight love.”

A kiss on the cheek, a hug and, as I was still standing, a slow pat on my padding and she wandered off upstairs.

Well that didn’t go as expected. Perhaps strangely I anticipated some sort of inquisition whereby I had to account for every minute I was away but no, that wasn’t the case.

Of course now I was thinking about what mum said, had I given off some indication? Did I look different? Did you change in some way once you were no longer a virgin? Did I smell different? I went over what had happened and, sitting on the couch in the living room, began to contemplate even more.

One thing was for certain – neither of us had taken things slowly.


Was mum’s comment that ‘I was grown up’ referencing the fact that I was no longer a virgin? Did that constitute becoming a man and if so, why and how and what was I supposed to do next?

Did Tom only like me because of my nappy and childish ways like his little brother (yes I had to admit that maybe I did have a juvenile side that I’d hardly kept hidden)?

Was I elated or sad that I’d succumbed to Tom’s offer of bed so easily or did I feel I needed to repay him for his intervention with Tridwell? I mean, that was possibly the first time we’d been so close and I’d accepted his offer with barely a second thought. Was I that eager to... well... you know. Did that make me a slag or a prostitute? I had no reference because it had all transpired so quickly and it was me who let, no, wanted it to happen.

The thing was the deed was done now so there was no going back. Of course, I expected that Tom and I would make something semi-official, if not to the rest of the world then at least to each other but what if...?

Oh, that was a scary thought – what if that’s all he wanted from me and now he’d had it I was of no more interest?

In spite of all this going on in my head, all the way home on the bus I’d held in a fart. I’m not proud of that but I could ‘physically’ still feel Tom plunging deep and it was creating a strange build-up that I was scared to let loose. Eventually, sitting alone on the couch I was able to release what I hoped was just a little extra wind. It turned out to be a wet and very messy deluge into my disposable.

Oh God... time for another change and bed but a clean-up first.


My mind was in turmoil. At the same time I was blaming Tom for taking advantage I was equally sure it was something I’d desired. I mean, how else could I explain the speed at which I took up his suggestion of a move to the bedroom? The other fact was, all the way through, everything we did Tom had asked if I was OK, comfortable and happy about what we were doing. I may have stifled some of the pain at first but I was just as eager and as encouraging the more we got into it. I thought at eighteen it was time I knew what sex was all about and it seemed that my preferences was for the male form... so that settled one argument at least.

Maybe I should have done some research in to relationships and what exactly ‘loosing ones virginity’ physically meant... and the outcome of such carnal action.

In fact, in my dreams and sexual thoughts, hugging and kissing and playing with Tom had been about as far as my imagination had taken me. The actual penetration had been a painful revelation even if it was from the man I was obsessed with doing it. Tom had more or less asked for permission before we got to each stage and, although I was often gripping the mattress or duvet or biting the pillow, I never once said “no”.

There were moments when I simply couldn’t believe what was happening or what I was doing but there was a definite urge to continue. Tom delivered more than my dreams offered and it was the physical contact of this hunk of a man holding, caressing and shagging me that meant so much to me. It hurt but it was worth it for such intimacy. The type of intimacy I hadn’t thought I’d ever get and I loved being loved.

However, to be on the safe side, I’d wrapped myself in the thickest double terry cloth nappy and most durable looking rubber pants I could find as I settled down to my second sleep of the day. Alas I didn’t get much sleep - I kept going over and over again in my mind what we did. My nappy was very restrictive to the way my cock wanted to react. Even nursing on my dum-dum didn’t help my mind was just too chaotic.

Of course, I woke up in the morning to my usual soaked padding and feeling more than a little rough; never mind a sore bum and ached everywhere.

“Morning love... sleep well?” Mum said with a look of concern as I tentatively sat down at the table for breakfast.

I’d cleaned myself up but even a cold shower hadn’t improved my slightly haggard look, although I couldn’t be certain that isn’t how you appear after you’ve just had the first real sex ever in your life.

The nappy I’d changed into was as thick as the one I wore to sleep in, because of the continual feeling I was about to take a dump at any moment, I needed as much protection as possible. The rubber pants were gripping my thighs so tightly I was in danger of cutting off circulation.

“Well you look unsettled sweetheart, anything the matter?” Mum rested her hand on mine as she looked into my eyes and just knew she could read my guilty thoughts.


I sighed and wondered how I was going to say what I was about to say.

Ermmmm, I got to know Tom a lot better... a lot, lot better and it’s taken me by surprise and left me a lot to think about.”

“Oh sweetheart,” she came and wrapped her arms around me for a cuddle. “Did it not go as expected?” The concern was in her voice.

“I don’t know,” I paused trying to think if it did or didn’t go as expected, “I didn’t know what to expect... I wish I had.”

“Do you think you’d have done anything different if you had?” She patted my back in support.

Now then, that was a question I wasn’t expecting. Would I?

However, I didn’t get to take that thought any further because at that moment my mobile rang and I saw it was Tom. I didn’t remember exchanging numbers so this was quite a surprise.

“It’s Tom.”

Mum pulled away slightly and nodded. “Well I think you need to talk to him more than me at the moment... I’ll leave you to it.” She left the kitchen and busied herself upstairs out of earshot.



I was nervous what he’d say about last night - but incredibly pleased he called.

Despite my doubts Tom was all compliments and encouragement. He joked that he’d slept right through until just then and was surprised he’d woken up to an empty bed.

“How I wished I’d woken up to your lovely little body...” Whilst he talked I just wondered if he’d have been happy to wake up to a sodden bed, without protection I wasn’t sure I’d have stayed dry. As it was the fact that I’d fallen asleep and woken up next to him dry was an absolute bonus but didn’t think I’ll be relying on that strategy in future.

“ wore me out Jase.” He continued and it was a comment that ludicrously pleased me.

We chatted for a while and informing me that he’d put his phone number into mine so knew I had it... and then said he couldn’t wait to see me again as Monday (tomorrow) was just too far away. It was Sunday and I usually met up with the guys for a kick-about in the park or... actually, since I’d started work these Sunday get-togethers had been happening less and less frequently but I used that as an excuse to put Tom off, for the time being.

“Well how about this evening - we can go for a meal or a drink or to a club if that’s what you fancy?”

I didn’t know how to tell him I was sore and felt continually in danger of crapping my pants. That wouldn’t have sounded very romantic and I didn’t want to be in a position where that might happen in public and the embarrassment of doing such a thing was too much.

“Or, and I know I’m pushing it a bit, how about I make you a meal at my place?” He asked so sweetly it was a lovely offer but I was still a bit uncomfortable about my sore bum.

“I’d like that but not tonight, please, I need some time...”

I heard the lightness in his voice falter, “Have I done something wrong to upset you?”

“No, no, nothing like that... it’s just, it’s well...”

“Look, if I have I’m really sorry. I don’t like the idea that I forced myself on you... oh bloody hell... I’ve ruined everything... we said we’d move slowly and stupidly I moved too quickly.”

“It’s not that,” I interrupted. “Look, I was a... virgin.” Yep, there I said it, eighteen and still a virgin and I felt silly and stupid and juvenile and ... well... my thick padded bolster was probably only adding to this admission.

“Really? Then I’m even more sorry, I hate to think I hurt you in any way... I just thought you were a little unsure about me and that’s why you were nervous. I should have asked... no, known it was going to be your first time.”

Uuummmm well, maybe...”

“Are you OK with what we did?” The concern in his voice was noticeable.

That was THE question. It had been such a huge leap from thinking about sex (and not really knowing what that entailed) and then actually doing it.  Shooting into my nappy at the thought of Tom was one thing; him shooting into me was something different... or was it? I didn’t know what was right or wrong just that it’s what happened.

“To be honest... I’m a little sore (that was an understatement).”

“Oh God... I’m really sorry, I thought it was what you wanted and you...”

“Yes, yes it was... I mean... is... I’m just a little tender at the moment and would like to rest before...”

“Before what?” He sounded concerned, as if I might be calling an end to this thing before it had really got going.

However, I don’t know what devilment took hold but I purred down the phone.

“Before we try it again.”

At the same moment, and without touching myself, I shot a load into my ever absorbent padding. Yes, Tom was still having that effect - sore bum or not.


We talked a little longer and I asked him about licking my plastic pants. He was all praise because he said that when I was naked but for the protection his heart rate went into overdrive. He said the image of me wearing just a nappy and their slippery accompaniment was such a huge turn on... and because I looked so damn cute... he didn’t want to hold back.

“Jason,” he said, “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way but... you are unbelievably cute. Even without knowing about your nappies, umm, since the moment we met I’ve thought how sweet natured and attractive you were. I also thought your shyness was adorable and, if I’m being honest, I just wanted to get to know you better. I had no idea we’d end up in bed together BUT I’m certainly glad we did. You’re just perfect.”

OK, I’ve paraphrased it just a little but that was basically what he said. However, because my head was spinning with all those terms of endearment, I missed some of them. I know he was several miles away and on the end of a phone but I liked to think that he was playing with himself as he said those things... because I was.


Anyway, around 11ish James came to see if I wanted to do anything. Despite worrying he might be able to tell, and constantly itching at my bum and trying to wriggle the nappy a little, I thought I needed to take my mind off of Tom for a while at least.

As it was a well-trodden course to take, we ended up in the park where Ralph and Kili were in deep discussion about a new TV series that had started the night before. Of course they asked if I’d seen it and instead of saying I was watching something on the other side, I told them I was otherwise engaged. I must have said it in such a way as to make them take notice because the next thing I knew I was being grilled as to what exactly it was I was doing.

I stammered a most unconvincing reply so that set them off digging even deeper and calling me out if I wasn’t consistent with my replies. Through my own incompetence I could feel my skin burning red as I blushed furiously as I thought what I’d done but desperate to deflect their very personal interrogation.

It was really silly because I thought by thinking about Tom and me ‘doing it’ they’d easily be able to read my mind and I’d give the game away. So, I was desperately trying to think of something else and settled on the meal I’d had when we celebrated the new team at work. So, what I was saying as answers to their questions was not in tune with what I was thinking so it came out like a huge lie and it appeared, even to me, that I was desperately trying to hide something juicy. I was, but not what they thought.

They assumed I’d been out on a date, and although they had no idea who with, they assumed certain names were in the frame. I had never spoken about Tom so his name wasn’t there but a number of the girls in the neighbourhood were. However, although I knew I was gay none of my friends seemed to see that as a possibility. If they did they’d never let on to me about it. They knew I liked Helen two doors down from where I lived and they more or less declared that she was the ‘girlfriend’ I was seeing. They made the usual stupid male assumptions but I’m afraid as I didn’t outright deny it, the ribbing continued. Poor Helen was an innocent pawn in this ridiculous cover up.

So much for owning what you are!

With my deceitful words I’d let down Mark at my own first hurdle. I was a complete and utter hypocrite because I wasn’t ready to tell anyone about Tom just yet.


Looking like he was just returning from church Billy met up and brought a different conversation to the group. As he approached I couldn’t get over just how young he looked with his new short haircut and wearing a white pressed shirt, blue tie and blue shorts he looked like a ten year old about to take communion or some such thing. I know from when I saw him last that he was quite embarrassed about just how short his hair was but wasn’t sure if that was still the case. Kili started off with a crack about Sunday school, which at our church is for kids under twelve.

“Ha-ha very funny,” was his response to Kili’s observation. “No, just been to visit my brother in hospital.”

Despite Kili ribbing him I was checking to see if he was wearing padding under his rather short blue shorts and almost missed what he was saying.

“Bloody hell,” James exclaimed loudly but of course all our minds immediately wondered if their father had beaten him half to death and that’s why he was in hospital. “What happened?”

“His appendix burst late Friday night and dad rushed him to A&E... apparently it was pretty bad because he’s going to be there for a few days.”

“Fucking hell, it makes me cringe just thinking about something inside bursting,” and Ralph gripped his stomach as if he was experiencing it himself.

“He’d been complaining to me for a while that he was getting an occasional pain in his tummy but then it would go away.” Billy was now the centre of all our attention. “Only last night, when we went to bed he looked pretty awful and was sick. He didn’t tell mum or dad and later, in our room he shit the bed with the most appalling diarrhoea. I looked over and he was crying and I thought it was because he’d crapped himself but when I checked he was doubled-up in agony. I called mum and she saw immediately what was wrong and a short while later he was carried out to the car and dad was driving him to hospital. They did an emergency operation.”

“Diarrhoea, eurgh, and a busted appendix... poor bugger, is he gonna be OK?” Kili spoke for all of us.

“He was barely awake when we visited him but the doctor said the operation went alright but.... I don’t know they came up with a term I don’t remember... the upshot is he’ll be in for a few more days yet.”

Of course I didn’t say anything though noticed Billy was still wearing protection and I thought how lucky it must have been for Mark to be wearing a nappy when such a terrible accident - diarrhoea - happened.

Kili was right “Eurgh” what a mess.


The conversation carried on with each of us expressing our own various ailments followed by where was the worst each of us had been sick. Kili won that round by telling us about the time, when he was seven and in the middle of assembly, he threw up and as he was being led down the corridor to the nurse’s office he crapped his pants.

“They sent for mum and she had to break off from an important meeting to come and fetch me. She wasn’t happy.”

Jokingly I asked if he got put in a nappy as a result but the look Kili gave me was one I won’t forget anytime soon. Obviously I’d hit a nerve and if looks could kill I’d be a dead man right now. I quickly changed the subject because not only was I on dodgy ground with him but also Billy and myself. We changed the conversation to how badly the local team were doing in the Premiership.

Later, as I was walking home with Billy I joked that at least Mark wouldn’t have to wear a nappy for a few days. Billy wasn’t so sure because he said as a result of the appendix rupturing his body was full of bacteria and had infected other parts of his body.... so maybe he needed a nappy even more now. I didn’t know enough about operations or appendixes... or is that appendices... so I couldn’t even guess what the poor lad was being subjected to. However, the rustle from Billy’s shorts told me he was still wearing so the major medical upset had not made his parents any more lenient.

“I suspect,” Billy continued, “that’s why he’s been so cranky for the last week or so... I think the constant pain had got him down and it made him a bit insufferable but was never going to tell mum and dad because he expected them to be less than sympathetic. Besides, I don’t think he knew how awful it was going to get.

I nodded in agreement as if this seemed a perfectly good explanation as to why Mark had been acting the way he had.

“To be honest,” Billy was confiding in me, “I think they were pleased with themselves that Mark had been wearing a nappy when he shit his self... though changed him into a pair of briefs before they set off to hospital.”

He took time to think that over before he continued.

“However, this morning, as I was getting ready to go and see him they insisted I should be smart for the hospital and made me wear this.” He indicated his rather well-ironed shirt and shorts but the nappy didn’t appear as thick as I’d noticed previously. He saw me looking and guessed I was wondering about it. “It’s a disposable with plastic pants.” He smiled as if he was about to say something good about his parents. “I have to say that I don’t actually mind wearing these, they’re a lot nicer than the thick fabric ones I normally wear.”

“Welcome to the club.” I hoped it didn’t sound unfeeling but I was so grateful to hear that someone else enjoyed a nice comfy nappy. It was also at that moment when the warmth of an uninvited, though not unwelcome, flow of pee filled the front of my own cartoony disposable. I briefly wondered if Billy had enjoyed such moments but thought it best, for the moment at least, not to ask.

# tbc #

Part 11

I was in my room fidgeting and trying to sit comfortably, whilst sucking on my dummy and contemplating all the day’s events; I wondered if we could visit Mark, I was pleased about Billy and his disposable and of course my head (as well as other parts of me) was full of Tom. I was also only wearing a very nice thick purple disposable but without plastic pants. I’d changed when I got home, had a bit of lunch with mum but needed time to think what I should do next.

I don’t know if I was over-thinking all this, I mean, when I’d been with mates or in a group at school and the subject of sex came up it always seemed to be something that happened. I can’t say I identified with any of what was said but I just accepted it as what goes on between two people who want to have sex. Even then, when I was at school, boys talking about it and bragging about it, I never engaged much in the chatter. I’d be on the outside just nodding and smiling when the occasion was needed or pass an ‘impressed’ comment.

I was in the top lot of academically ‘gifted’, I use that term loosely, but I don’t know if it’s the same at all schools but anyone who seemed in the least bit clever had few friends and tended to be on the periphery of what’s going on. Maybe it was just the one I went to?

It was like it wasn’t all real. Yes, there was talk but we were all school kids so I assumed everyone was like me and just not that interested but pretending to be... if that makes any sense. I’d never had a sex conversation with any of my friends and our school’s sex education was more of a joke than preparing adolescents for the real world. Of course there was chatter, comparisons and general ‘laddishness’ in the changing room but again, it didn’t seem that sexual. Perhaps now I see I’d done myself a dis-service by not taking notice. Maybe, I might have been more prepared had I listened to Tommy Dunnage who bragged about everything, whilst enjoying getting one up on the ‘dork’... me.

It was no good, I really did needed to talk with mum about all this as making future decisions needed her calming influence to put my thoughts in some sort of order.


So, Sunday evening and although I could have been out with Tom, settled down in front of the TV with mum.

Muuuummm,” she must be used to that whine by now.

“Yes dear.”

“I’ve got something I want to talk about but I’m not sure if you’ll be happy about it.”

“Well love, why don’t you start and I’ll tell you when to stop, how’s that?” She nodded as if that was permission to bombard her with all my queries.

Now I had her attention I didn’t really know where to start.

“You know I said that I’d got to know Tom better....?”

“Yes love.”

“Well what I meant by that was, ummm,” this was more difficult than imagined because I thought I could tell her anything, “we had sex.” I finally whispered.

“Okay love, I thought as much but what is it... did you have doubts?”

“No, but I wonder if I rushed it.”

“Do you want to explain?”

So I did.


Mum listened, nodded, smiled and looked concerned at the appropriate moments in the account of my losing it. She didn’t interrupt, frown or cast doubt on anything I said but patted my hand or gave me a cuddle. As I’ve established I do tell her just about everything but I never gave it any thought that hearing about her son losing his virginity might be something she’d rather not know about. In the end she sat for a moment and then spoke.

“You and Tom sound ideal for each other.” She was holding me close to her chest so I didn’t have to reply. “He may be your first but might not be your last; life has a way of turning plans upside down.”

I wasn’t sure how to take that comment – did she mean he may be my first ‘love’ but not the last, or did she mean I was a dirty slut and would have much more sex with many men because that’s what sluts do?

“You’ve grown up a bit love. You’ve experienced something new and exciting and in truth, quite a lot of new experiences do not always go as planned or have the effect you thought they might. In other words, pain and pleasure often come together – like childbirth.” She grinned down at me at that point so I knew she wasn’t having a go.

I felt I needed to speak but she just cuddled me more but then said something I wasn’t expecting, although I should have been.

“Do you feel, because you still like to suck on a dummy and wear a nappy that you sense you’re too young for all that kind of excitement? That you’d have liked more time - perhaps being treated as a child more than an adult?”

My sore bum told me it was all too late for that but I think she may have been on to something. I did still want to be treated as a kid (although I’d been in self-denial for some time) but on my terms.  

Actually, NO, because all my actions and thoughts had led to Tom and I going to bed and doing what we did... that wasn’t childish. But I wanted to keep the trappings. I need my nappies and dummy even at work to make me feel... well... actually... what?

I need nappies because I still wet myself. I need a dummy because I’m unsure I could cope without it. Is all that true? Had I not, over the past eighteen years, just built those things up because I wanted to, not because I needed to? There was no reason for me to always be anxious but I was and sought refuge in my padding. Now I wore because I preferred to, I loved how they felt and the comfort they offered. Could I still be a big kid and enjoy doing adult things?

Was I manufacturing guilt to hide other desires? Oh Jesus, this growing up was a bloody minefield. However, as if to bring everything into focus, as mum rocked me in her arms, I felt relaxed and too comfortable to move... and filled my nappy.

Yes, it seems I AM really just a big baby.


It seemed like ages that mum hugged and patted my sodden padding. She didn’t appear in a rush for me to go and change or stop this intimacy.

Muuurrrmmm?” It sounded worse when I had the dummy in.

“Yes sweetheart.”

“Wo oo eber gesh fed  u ov wall thish?” I spat the dummy out because even to me it sounded too childish.

“No love, I love everything about this and wish it would continue forever.” She patted my soggy bottom even more. “However, despite what you may or may not want you are growing up. You have a job and it sounds like you have a special friend and things are changing.”

She sat me up so she was looking directly into my eyes.

“Love, I hate you growing up but know you must. I’ve clung to your little quirks and anxieties because they are you and... I love you. But, as I say, things are changing and I must accept these changes... you might just find that your priorities change as well.”

“Mum, you look sad.”

“I’m not really love. I’m happy that you’ve found somebody, happy you have a job you like with people you like...”

“Not Tridwell.” I interjected.

“No, not Tridwell,” she confirmed. “But, without Tridwell you might not have had Tom. Maybe it wouldn’t have happened yet or maybe, because of your shyness, it might never have happened. So, he may have been the catalyst to get things going between you both.”

That was something I hadn’t considered.

“Love,” she smiled her all-encompassing smile, “I’ll be here whenever you want me but you’re embarking on your own journey and I don’t want you worrying about me. Let me do all the worrying and you think about enjoying life and the new experiences it is going to offer.”

It had caused me some anxiety that mum would feel different about me now. Her reassurance that all was well and approved was a huge weight off my mind. However, although I was feeling a lot better about myself one thing was certain - I needed to get out of this extremely soaked nappy.


Monday started like any day normally did with a wet nappy. I seem to be wet most of the time these days but I don’t realise it until it has happened. My bum was still sore but not as much, so that was a slight relief.

Now I need to add here that I’d inspected my bum hole often since Tom had, well, you know. It feels one of the strangest things you can do but I was convinced, because I hurt so much that there must be damage. However, despite peering at my little puckered and strangely wrinkly butt hole I could see no problem. Nonetheless, the feeling he was still there persisted so what we had done was never far from my thoughts. That in turn made for my nappies, both night and day, to end up extremely used and abused.

Anyway, a quick shower and get myself ready for work. A fresh disposable always makes me feel better so when I add a pair of blue vinyl pants with teddies all over them I feel like I’m fully equipped to take on the day. Once fully dressed I aim for the kitchen where mum has a cup of tea ready and put bread in the toaster. Not much is said and that’s not unusual because we are content to have silences between us.

The bus is full so I have to share a seat with a young guy who is part of a larger crowd. They aren’t wearing school uniforms so perhaps they are on a day out or its one of those ‘dress down days’ some places have. Anyway, he’s noisily chatting away to the guys behind me and I’m trying to be adult but not tutting my disapproval at the volume of their chat.

Occasionally the noise dies down a little and I’m aware that with the bus’s movement, I can hear the rustle of my plastic pants. I don’t suppose it’s too loud but to me it sounds like that’s all the noise there is. I notice this lad, who must have been about fourteen or fifteen, look down at my crotch when the rustling seems a bit louder as the bus takes a corner and I note that he must be looking at the bulge in my chinos. To me this is obvious to what lay beneath but the lad says nothing just continues his chat to his mates.

Eventually he gets up to get off and I saw that he deliberately ‘tripped’ and his hand fell, on my padded crotch, which he gave a squeeze.

“Ohh sorry mate,” he said quickly and winked then continued past me and down the aisle to the exit door where his friends were waiting.

They disembarked but as the bus passed him he looked directly at me and smiled. I was shocked; I mean this was a first. Did he think we were the same age? Did he know what the bulge represented? Did he...?

So much was going through my mind that it was only as warmth built up in my crotch I knew I’d spontaneously wet myself.

I looked at my watch and realised I was running late but hoped I’d have time to change before I started work.


Of course that didn’t happen because as soon as I got in the Professor was there with a couple of his team waiting for me and to collect some items they needed; I was in charge of the inventory so had to check it out as well as back in at the end of the day. I also had to make a note of who it was for and where it would be used. I know it sounds dull but to be honest it wasn’t because it meant that I was involved in all aspects of the venture and not just the bit each team was working on.

“Here’s the keeper of the keys,” the professor announced in a jovial way and that was the start of my work day.

I didn’t immediately get chance to change and noticed that Tom was engrossed in something he and the team were working on so didn’t get to say anything other than “Hi”.

He smiled (a particularly gorgeous and reassuring smile) and nodded but then a comment from a colleague had him focused on that.

However, when I did get a moment and went to the restroom to change, all I could think about was that young lad on the bus and why did he grope me? It was no accident. Was he doing it out of bravado or what? He had a good feel of my padding so I guess he must have known but, other than what Tom and I had done on Saturday, this was the first incident where I’d be sexualised? I mean, actually, I’m not sure what I mean but I knew that something happened. Mind you, I was so glad I was thinking about this before I changed because I found myself unintentionally peeing into my already sodden nappy. I just hope it held and the plastic pants did their job.


A few minutes later, all cleaned up and in a fresh nappy, I joined Tom and the team as there was a lot to do. Occasionally I’d have to break off to do some inventory work but otherwise I was back working up close to the man who had taken my virginity. My bum was still smarting from his ‘visit’ but being in his presence brought back incredible flashbacks of what we’d done and in truth, I desperately wanted to do it all again. There were the odd nudge and friendly pat on the back so we did make contact when we could but I kept the urge to kiss him in full view of everyone to myself.

We did manage to get some time together but weren’t alone long enough to speak too freely. However, he did say that he’d love me to come round so he could cook that meal for me.

“I still have those two lovely lasagnes waiting.” He joked.

I thought about it and suggested that Wednesday after work we could “do something if he wanted?”

His face beamed. “That sounds great... is a meal at mine okay?”

“Sure but I’m still a bit sore so...”

“Okay, no sex just a small glass of wine... oh I forgot, you’re not that bothered about that are you?”

“Not really but don’t let it stop you.”

“Mmmm, it might be good for me to cut down so do you prefer anything other than Coca Cola?”


“Then that’s what we’ll have... I shall make it a special ‘milky’ occasion, how’s that?”

“Will we still have lasagne?” I teased.

“Of course.”

“Then I’m already looking forward to it,” and as if to prove the point I came in my nappy.

The rest of the day simply flew by and the team progressed well with their task.


Tuesday evening Billy came round to bring me up to date on Mark, apparently he’d improved and they hoped to have him home by the weekend. I asked if it would be alright to visit him but Billy said that he wasn’t sure but would ask his parents. Of course I could have just gone but I didn’t want to make enemies of them so said I’d wait for their OK. He spent about fifteen minutes with me before he had to go – tight leash and all – but I asked about the disposables even though I could tell he was back to wearing fabric nappies again.

“Still no let-up then?” I asked sympathetically.

Billy shook his head. “No but I think that’s because Mark has to wear them in hospital.”

“Oh, well I suppose that’s a good place to wear them.”

“Yer, s’pose so but could really do with getting out of these because with Mark not being here, mum or dad have to change me and that’s just too embarrassing.”

“I would have thought they’d have grown tired of all that by now.”

“So would I but... well... I don’t know but I’m beginning to think it’s more permanent. I think they enjoy seeing us wearing these things.”

“Bloody hell, really?”

“I don’t know but they were really pleased Mark was wearing when he crapped himself...”

“I don’t think he had a choice did he?”

“Well, I think they see it as some kind of ‘sign’ of something... all I know is I’m still wearing and the terry pile is just getting bigger in our bedroom.”

“Is it getting any easier?”

“It did for a brief couple of days when they put me in disposables but since then...”

“Sorry Billy.”

“I wish I was more like you Jase, able to enjoy them more... maybe, given time... who knows? Anyway, sorry my visit’s so short but, I have to get back.”

“Look before you go,” I reached into my backpack that was still by the front door and pulled out one of my spare cartoony disposables. “I’m not sure if this will help, or if you’ll want it or if you’ll get chance to wear it but, take this and I hope it gives you some of the pleasure I get when I wear one.”

It seemed a silly gesture and maybe revealing more about my childishness than perhaps I should have done but felt he needed something.

“Wow, thanks Jase,” he noticed the rather colourful characters. “Oh god, you don’t do things by halves do you... these are... are... I shall...”

I thought he was having second thoughts and wouldn’t be found dead in something so immature. But no, he slipped it under his shirt and held it tightly to his chest.

“Thanks again.” He smiled as he left me and then as if an afterthought said he’d get back if his parents said it was OK for me to visit Mark.


Wednesday morning I got confirmation that I’d passed my ‘A’ levels and mum said she was so proud that we should celebrate. I said we should do it at the weekend as I had a date that night to which mum just chuckled and said it was ages since I’d been on a sleepover.

It was only then that I thought about this possibly being the night when I’d stay over and I think, in mum’s own way, she was giving me permission if I was having any doubts.

“I don’t know about that.” I replied unsure.

“Well love, you might want to celebrate... so I’m just saying.”

“I’m not sure he’d want to wake up to a soaked bed.”

“No, maybe not but you don’t know how things will pan out so...”

All the way on the bus I just kept thinking of what mum said, she seemed to think that Tom would have no trouble dealing with a wet nappy.


The rest of the day passed off equally well and although we didn’t say anything in particular, it seemed obvious that others had noticed our closeness. I was happy knowing that Tom still wanted me around so, after work, he declined offers to join some of the guys we work with in the pub. From where we work to his block of flats is about a half hour walk, which he often runs, and changes out of his kit when he gets to the office. Today it was nice to just slowly saunter together. He was quite amazed that, although I’d lived in the city my entire life, there were many parts of it I didn’t know, so he was a font of information as we wandered along each street pointing out anything of any significance.  

On the lift up to the eighteenth floor he stole a kiss but it was nicer once we got inside Number 142 and we could relax completely. I took him by surprise by giving him the passionate kiss I’d been desperate to give him since Monday morning.

Still in that initial clinch he helped me out of my jacket and I took my lead from him as he kicked off his shoes.

“Oh Jase, I’ve been desperate to hold you...”

He didn’t get to say much more as our lips locked and I hungrily sought more kisses and less chat.

His left hand rubbed my back whilst his right hand patted my padded bottom. I could feel my plasticky teddy bear disposable tighten though tried desperately not to either cum or piss myself.

He asked if I’d like to get more relaxed and we headed to his bedroom and started undressing. He stopped me and asked if I was sure. I nodded but he smiled and said he had another idea and asked me to wait... he wanted to strip me down. I liked that idea.

How did mum know?


We stood facing each other in his bedroom. He simply told me to close my eyes and let him “explore my senses”. This was something new for me and although I wasn’t too sure did as he asked.

For a while nothing happened and I began to have trust issues. I was sorely tempted to squint and see what he was up to but that would have been cheating. So I had trust and not wanting to let him down going around my head.

Then I could hear movement and what sounded like the soft swish of clothing being removed but I wasn’t sure. Gently I felt his breath on my ear as he whispered for me to relax, think of nothing but to enjoy the moment. I was about to speak but he softly shushed me to stay silent.

I felt his hot breath on my ear and then the tickle of a wet tongue tentatively lick my lobe and then around ear. It was the strangest of sensations both quite erotic and tickly. I giggled and wriggled slightly but then a firm hand held me still before he then began to unbutton and remove my shirt.

All the time his softly spoken words or “relax” or encouragement that I was “doing fine” kept me steadfastly in place.  His tongue brushed across my lips and then down my now naked chest, circling both my little nipples and continued down, down, down to the top of my trousers. I felt the button being undone and the zip slowly pulled down.

He must have seen the new cartoon bears that played on the soft plasticky fabric.

“Who’s a sweet little bear then... yum yum... I’m going to eat him all up.”

“I’d never had a pet name before but quite liked ‘Little Bear’ I wondered if it would catch on.

I have to say, from the very beginning of all this my cock was pushing out the fabric of my disposable. I was on the verge but desperately trying not to cum but it was difficult, I just wasn’t used to such sexual excitement.

“Keep your eyes closed, but not too tightly,” he encouraged, “I’m going to let you lie out on the bed.”

Again I was about to speak but he just gently put a finger against my lips as he slowly, almost imperceptibly, drew his fingertips down my chest. He eased me down and I felt my trousers and socks being removed.

Whoaaaa.” I felt my toes lightly being licked. “Ooooghhh” This was difficult trying to keep from reacting as my bubbling balls tried but failed to hold back the sudden yet inevitable rush.

Ssshhhh, don’t worry, relax Little Bear, you’re in safe hands...” He spoke in a whisper and I felt I had to do as asked and was pleased he’d cottoned on to the idea of a pet name.  I’d leaked but knew I couldn’t help it but what had me even more surprised was that the erotic licking continued. That was despite all I was wearing - my disposable, now soaked but thankfully with the robust cover of my blue teddy bear plastic pants.

“God you’re so sexy, so cute, so... bearish...” He licked, almost imperceptibly over my eyelids and then down to my mouth. His tongue subtle and light flittered over my sensitive lips before pausing as if asking for permission to enter. I parted my lips and let him in.

Meanwhile, as we kissed I didn’t want to be the passive partner any longer. I had a desperate need to hug him close, feel his entire body pressed against mine so reached up and my hands hit naked skin. I pulled him close and he let me run my hands over his physique. It was warm and smooth but I could still feel his hard muscles. I ran my hand down to his firm bum but was met by the soft slippery padded feel of something I knew so well.

Tom was wearing a plain disposable... he looked pretty good in it.

# tbc #

Part 12

I’d had many happy years of wearing a nappy but I never knew it could be so much fun. Tom had me doing things, and WAS doing things, I’d never thought about before. He teased, rubbed, kissed, cuddled, licked, whispered, nipped and nibbled all over my body but my nappy stayed on. We snuggled and softly caressed each other before passionately breaking off to snog each other senseless. Our thick padding and plastic pants became playgrounds as we did everything except take them off.

However, after quite a few hours both were in a terribly distressed state. He asked if I wanted to stay the night and I nodded (mum is always right). He then said it would be his pleasure if I’d let him change me. This was something I wasn’t expecting and became quite nervous, despite everything we’d done, for it to happen as my nappy was completely and utterly sodden.

He smiled when I told him of this and simply said “SNAP!”

From under the bed he produced a package of Abena M4s and asked me to chill as he eased down my slightly ripped plastic pants and pulled at the tabs holding my disposable together.

“I wanted to make sure you have everything you need.”

I was about to say I always have spares in my backpack but that seemed a little ungrateful.

“Hold on Jase, I’ll get a nice warm cloth and clean you up and then I’ll change you. Will that be okay?”

This was nervously thrilling but I could hardly say no because my nappy and pubic area were just a greasy mess.

As he toddled off to the bathroom (yes even Tom had a waddle wearing a wet nappy) my mind suddenly remembered that he used to change his little brother’s nappies. Those earlier thoughts about him changing mine and the fun I associated with such an act, overcame my initial anxiety. This was going to be fine, everything about this was fine and Tom was taking the lead, which I really, really wanted.

He returned carrying a damp washcloth and a towel.

“You know Jase,” he said as he wiped me down, the warm cloth feeling wonderful against my naked skin. “I might have to get rid of my hair,” he dabbed at my hairless crotch, “you look so sweet.”

His gaze was making me feel appreciated and I couldn’t help but love the man who was so into me he was willing not only to change my nappy but wear one himself so I didn’t feel silly.

“You look so inno...”

I reached out and pulled him close, the clean-up forgotten I just wanted more of this wonderful man.

Tom whispered “Are you sure?”

Ripping off his wet padding I could see he was as excited as I was to take things further. Because we embraced our cocks rubbed together and, not having the soaked thick fabric between us, that felt incredible. He moaned in my ear and asked if I was definitely sure.

Please,” was all I offered in response.

He broke away and smiled down at me, “Then how can I refuse such a sweet and innocent Little Bear?”

Once again he gently lifted my legs onto his shoulders and reached over into his bedside drawer and took out lube, condoms and a dummy.

He held the dummy up. “I want you to have everything you might need.” He raised his eyebrows as if he wasn’t too sure but still offered it to me and it seemed such a lovely, thoughtful gesture, I happily licked my lips in anticipation and let him seductively slip it in.


We bounced around his bed (and once onto the floor) but there was something about this man that I wanted more and more of. Of course the dummy wasn’t in my mouth for long because I was moaning and squealing and being pumped full but Tom seemed to have the time and capacity to hold back and deliver again and again.

Eventually, sweating like a couple of over-heated pigs, he orgasmed deep and long. His body twitched inside mine and my stomach was just a pattern of messy greasy streaks and globs. To clean ourselves up we took a shower together, he gently sponging every part of my body but by then I was just too knackered to respond to his sweet subtle kisses.

Once that was finished he dried me down and we settled back into the bedroom. He stripped the sweaty bed and laid out a fresh sheet. He asked me to lie out and he picked up one of the Abena’s.

“OK Little Bear, time for beddy-byes don’t you think, we have work tomorrow?”

I nodded.

“So let me get us both ready for the night.”

He made sure I was completely dry before sprinkling powder all over my groin and taping me in. He opened the bedside drawer again and pulled out a pair of pink plastic pants and pulled them up. He then did the same to himself including a similar coloured pair of plastic pants. God he looked fantastic in them.

“OK, sleep now... is that okay with you?” Again I nodded. “Here don’t forget this,” and slipped the dummy gently between my lips.

“Now no begging for more sex because I’m worn out.” He joked.

I was relaxed as he snuggled up to my back and held me in his arms.

“Night Jase and thanks.” But I was so tired and at ease I just wriggled in closer and continued to gently suckle on my dummy.

He turned off the light and that was it until his alarm went off at 07:00.

So, I never got my celebratory meal, not even a milkshake; all I can say is that there are still two frozen lasagnes waiting to be eaten - perhaps another time?


When the alarm went off I was a bit disorientated and not sure where I was. Tom was a very morning person and was awake and aware straight away and kissed the nape of my neck (we may not have moved position all night) and welcomed me to the day. It was strange waking up in someone else’s bed and of course I immediately ran my hand over the engorged padding and knew I’d filled it as per usual.

For the first time in ages I felt I’d let myself down by not being able to go one night without soaking my nappy. However, I looked over at Tom who was now standing at the side of the bed and have to say he still looked stunning in his pink plastic pants, although it didn’t look like he’d filled his like I’d done.

He patted my padded bottom, “C’mon lazy bear, you need the bathroom more than me at the moment so...” and pointed me towards the door. “There’re fresh towels in the cupboard and a toothbrush.”

It seemed that Tom was well prepared for my visit so took one of his Abenas to change into. I liked the idea of wearing something of his to work... it was going to be a wonderful day.

Within an hour we were both ready for work. He wore white boxer shorts, and looked so damned hunky, whilst I wore the pink plastic pants over my fresh pure white disposable. I felt on top of the world, as if everything had changed for the better and the thick padding only added to that. I could have skipped along the streets; the padding making me feel loved and protected because Tom knew, didn’t mind and absolutely encouraged that little side of me.

We made small talk as we ambled along, avoiding the occasional pedestrian, about his university life, the friends he made there and the sports he played; he seemed to have crammed an entire lifetime into just three years study. I think I might have made a mistake by not taking that extra educational experience. Still if I had, I wouldn’t now be walking with the man who was my hero, lover and friend.


Despite my little waddle on our half hour walk to work, I don’t think I’d ever been happier. The new Abena hugged me just as much as Tom had done last night so nothing could have been nicer.

“At one point last night I heard a little noise,” Tom was confiding as we walked, “a sort of licking sound and I wondered what was happening. Anyway, I turned the bedside light on and saw that your dummy had fallen out. So, I slipped it back in and you sucked on it straight away.” He beamed as he said this, “It was so damn sweet I nearly hugged you to death afterwards.”

I felt so pleased with both his words and actions I couldn’t help but reach over and give his hand a squeeze.

“I liked the pet name you used for me.” I said in response.

He looked at me sideways as if to say “what?”

“You know... because of my plastic pants with all the bears all over them...” still he looked unsure. “You called me Little Bear... and I thought that was nice.”

“Oh did I? Mmmm,” he added thoughtfully, “maybe that does sum you up pretty nicely. A cuddly, soft, sweet and cute little bear... mmmm... I like that as well.”

I timidly smiled up at him but wondered if he was pulling my leg at not remembering or had he simply not realised?


Work continued as normal and I wondered if we’d be spending more time together and asked him about the weekend.

“Oh sorry Jase, I mean Little Bear, Terry and Barnsy are playing in tournament and I said I’d go with them.

“Oh, can I come?” I asked innocently.

“Not really Jase, it’s not one of those events... a lot of drinking, a lot of boisterousness, and team stupidity. I don’t think it’s your type of thing at all.” He seemed to think that was a good enough reason but I wasn’t happy.

“When are you setting off?”

“The team bus leaves tomorrow night and I don’t get back until Sunday night... I hope,” he added with a comical grimace.

After last night my bum was sore again and I didn’t particularly want a repeat so soon. I’d gotten carried away and my body ached as well as my hole so... tonight would be too much and I wasn’t sure, if I was with him, I’d be able to say no because, well, I hadn’t said no so far.

Mind you, nor had he!

“Oh that’s a shame,” I pretended I was pleased he had plans.

However, I knew this was a test of some kind and decided that we should both have lives beyond each other. All this intimacy was new to me so wasn’t sure if I was being reasonable or unreasonable. I did think, seeing as we’d just got together, that he’d have included me in his plans but, of course, he had friends other than me who he’s had for longer so I shouldn’t be complaining.

I had met both these lads, men, in the rugby club bar and they were pretty noisy and ‘in your face’ then and I definitely wouldn’t have fitted in with their sense of humour or drinking culture. Perhaps Tom was right to leave me out of his plans on this occasion. Still, I wasn’t happy but thought I’d make my own arrangements for the weekend. Maybe Ralph or James or Kili would be around and we can all go out together and celebrate our ‘A’ level successes.

When I got home mum said Billy had popped round the night before to say that they were expecting Mark home on Friday so didn’t think it was worth visiting him as he’d only be in hospital another night. Apparently, mum said that he seemed keen to tell me something but that was all she could get out of him before he had to go.

I wondered if it was about the disposable I’d given him and just hoped that if it was, it wasn’t something horrible that his parents had cooked up for him. Then I thought - if that was the case they certainly wouldn’t have let him come round to see me, so, I put my own mind at rest on that account. Still, I wondered what he wanted to say.


I called James to see what he was up to and his mum said he was visiting Durham with his dad looking at accommodation and getting the layout of the University, apparently it stretches all over the city and beyond. Meanwhile, a call to Kili had just caught him as he and the family were setting off to a family wedding in the capital. He joked that the Vivaha ceremony typically lasts for at least three days so I may never see him again.

“They’re mad, colourful, but completely and utterly bonkers,” he laughed. “But huge fun with loads of music and family I probably didn’t know I had.” I heard his mother call him in the background. “Sorry, we’re running late. Who knows, I might well be married when I get back. See yer when I see yer.” I had no idea Hindu weddings lasted that long so that was that.

That left Ralph and as he, like me, was already working I held out hope that at least he’d be available. He said he was already going out with a crowd from the market but that I should come along as they were off to a Karaoke Bar. I thanked him but said I’d catch up with him another time. He did say that he only got ‘B’s and ‘C’s’’ but his family were still proud of his achievements.  I didn’t like to brag about my two ‘A’s’ and ‘A+’, the results didn’t seem to matter much these days as I had ‘other’ interests.

Mum was looking at me when I put down the phone. I don’t know how long she’d been there or if she heard everything but I guess I must have looked a little lost.

“Not seeing Tom this weekend I gather?”

I shook my head.

“Everything okay?” She queried as she moved closer and put her hand on my shoulder.

I nodded and smiled that it was.

“Just other plans with some of his old teammates.”

“And no one else available sweetheart?”

“No, well, I can’t expect people to be around when it suits me, they all have lives and I suppose, to some extent, I’ve been neglecting them for a few weeks now.”

“Well, we can go out for a slap up celebratory meal if you like or I can cook us something special right here.” She offered. “What about tomorrow night?”

“Actually mum, I want to see how Mark is tomorrow and I need to catch up with Billy to see what he wanted to say... is that alright?”

“Of course sweetheart, whatever you want. You know my diary is always open,” she joked.

“Right,” I said with purpose, “let’s go to Blades if we can get in on Saturday night and we’ll celebrate my ‘A+’ then.”

“It’s a date and I’ll give them a call and reserve a table for two... unless there’s anyone else you’d like to invite?”

“No mum, it’ll be just us two.”


Thursday night I was once again naked in front of my bedroom mirror examining my bum hole. We’d gone hard at it the night before and it still felt like he was pummelling away and I needed to take a crap all the time. Of course, as usual, I sought refuge and security in a well-padded nappy and enjoyed going to sleep sucking on my dummy.

I had a very dream-filled night, which not only included Tom but Mark and Billy, James and, of all people, that lad on the bus. The thing was, it was he who became the main character in these dreams, or maybe they were fantasies.

I relived that not so subtle grope but then he and all his mates began to strip and before I knew it all hell broke loose at the back of the bus. Legs, bodies, excited faces and surprisingly an incredible amount of padding were everywhere and I was engulfed by plastic pants sliding over my sweating and enthusiastic body. I’d never had a dream like it and I woke up to the messiest disposable I think I’d ever had. Thank god for the thick rubber pants I’d donned the night before because a look at my bedding also revealed a very restless person had been very active there.

I was exhausted but when mum called to tell me I was late I moved at speed to the bathroom to get myself organised. The nappy just disintegrated when I removed the reliable pants but my body and bum ached. God knows what state I’d have been in if any of that actually happened?


At work I tried not to let my disappointment show that Tom and I wouldn’t be seeing each other at the weekend. However, I was mainly feeling incredibly guilty for having THAT dream. I mean, Tom was there to begin with but soon he disappeared and it was another who took his place. In fact, it was several others and I was desperate not to let him know what was actually filling my head. It got so bad that I made a few mistakes with the inventory but managed to correct them before the end of the day.

As he left Tom caught up with me in the toilet and as we were alone gave me a parting kiss. “I’m going to miss you Jase... hope you’ll be okay.”

“Yes, no problem.” I anxiously said as I was filling my nappy there right in front of him. “I’m going out celebrating my results with some ex-school mates so...”

“Well I hope you’re not going to celebrate like we did,” he smiled at his sexual inference.

I blushed madly and more pee splashed into the front of my soaked padding.

“’Fraid my mates don’t know I’m, you know, gay so you’re safe on that front.”

“Really?” He seemed quite stunned that no one else knew I was gay or hadn’t guessed.

“Really,” I replied quite miffed that he assumed others would know. I then began to wonder how many of our colleagues knew.

“You’ve gone all red Little Bear,” he said soothingly. “Maybe I should lock you up whilst I’m away and then I can keep you all to myself.” He kissed me once again. “Sorry Jase, I’m running late so... see you Monday and don’t do anything I... on second thought... just don’t do anything.” He grinned and with that parting comment ruffled my hair and disappeared to spend the weekend with his teammates.

When he’d gone I went into one of the empty cubicles and pulled down my chinos and plastic pants. The purple disposable was quite wet after all I’d had it on all day so needed a change. Once I’d taken that off, and as it had been throughout the day, it still felt like Tom was hammering away so wasn’t going to take any chances. I wrapped myself in double disposables, pulled up the plastic pants with difficulty and could hardly fasten the top button on my trousers. This was stupid, I’d gone way over the top and the bulge in my pants was huge.

Looking at the size another thought entered my head. My mind wandered to whether that lad who groped me might be on the bus going home.

I let out an unanticipated moan.

Bloody hell, I’ve just changed.


After an uneventful bus ride home I walked towards my house and, despite still feeling the slippery residue in the front of my nappy, made a slight detour to see if I could tell if Mark had arrived back home. I saw the car in the drive and thought if he wasn’t there I could ask his parents when might be convenient for me to visit. I wasn’t expecting what came next.

# tbc #


Part 13

Even though I’d known them for ages it was still a bit of an ordeal plucking up courage to visit unannounced. However, I knocked on the door and it was Mrs Edwards who answered.

“Good evening Mrs Edwards, I was just wondering if Mark was back from the hospital yet and if not when might it be convenient to call?”

I detected a suspicion of a smile on her face when she recognised me. “Ah Jason, yes, come on in. They’ve just returned and his father is seeing to him at the moment.”

She opened the door wider and I tentatively walked in.

“Is he fully recovered?” Again I was still in awe that Mrs Edwards had been so nice to me. I don’t know what I was expecting but not this.

“Just one or two little things but he should be better in a few days.” She invited me into her perfect living room. “Please take off your shoes.” She added as I took that first step indoors.

I slipped them off and padded toward the sofa where she patted the space next to her to sit down.

“Mr Edwards shouldn’t be long,” she smiled but I was nervous and could feel that under her scrutiny my bladder might not last the next few minutes.

“You have a lovely home...” I tried my best to keep the anxiety out of my voice. “Is Bill, erm, William around yet?”

“Yes, they are both upstairs with their father.” No further information was offered and I didn’t want to appear nosey so stayed looking at my socks.

“It’s very nice of you to be concerned Jason. You out of all the boys’ friends are the only one who asked about visiting Mark.”

It was a simple statement of fact as far as she was concerned but I guess the Edwards’s didn’t know the fear all the other kids felt in their presence. Even the mere mention of them made our little group think twice before they said anything else.

“Oh, that’s a shame.” I added unnecessarily.

Hummm,” which was more of a noise than a word she added as if in thought. “You’ve always been a friend to our boys, even when they were little we noticed that you seemed to have time for them.”

I wasn’t sure if she needed a comment or this was going to be part of a major discussion so I just smiled and nodded.

“We all need friends.” I answered glibly.

“Both of them look up to you and, I’m pleased to say, we think they are lucky to have a friend like you.”

Now, this was not the type of conversation I was expecting and was suddenly wishing I’d gone straight home or at least emptied my bladder before I knocked on that door. However, she was being nice and complimentary so it was difficult to make my excuses to leave.

Unexpectedly there was a change of direction.


“I’ve watched you grow up Jason and always admired the way you and your mother coped after the loss of your father.”

Bloody hell, how had we got into this discussion? I had no idea she was even aware of our circumstances. Although I should have known on our little street people would know just about everything. Still I was stunned that Mrs Edwards was being so... chatty?

“You and your mother always appeared to be so close. Even more so, you were... are... always polite and even tempered with time for everyone and nothing seems to be too much trouble.”

Again she smiled at her own praise but I was feeling uneasy. I was about to coyly say that wasn’t the case, even though it was, but she went on.

“Over the years I’ve noticed,” she nodded as if remembering something, “hanging out on your washing line evidence that said you had bouts of incontinence. Large nappies and plastic pants drying in the sun and wind... which made me wonder if it was that which kept you two close.”

Oh god, where was this going and where is Mr Edwards, surely he must be finished by now? I looked around the room hoping to find some distraction or an excuse to change the subject.

“I detected, over the last few months that the washing line is full again and wondered how often you need changing?”

She was staring at me, almost daring me to not answer but of course I am too polite for that and shivered as I admitted that I needed a thick nappy to sleep in.

Through preference... or because you need to?” There was a query but also an accusation in her tone.

She wasn’t letting up but I didn’t see why I had to tell her the complete truth, unless she’d already had this conversation with mum. Although I couldn’t see mum telling anyone about my situation without her telling me.

“I have anxiety attacks, erm, and lack of night time control so...” my excuse petered out.

“Oh dear,” It was as if she was being sympathetic without being sympathetic, more like she was taking the p... “What about at work, I believe you’re now employed?” It was a question I knew she had the answer to but answered anyway.

“Yes I’m working at Collins’s as a technical assistant.”

“Do you wear protection there as well?” God she wasn’t letting up and I could feel my face blushing furiously. Not only that but where was all this heading and why was she so interested?

“Yes,” I quietly confessed. I was trying not to look her in the eye but she was insistent that we keep eye contact.

“What style do you wear there?”

Oh hell this conversation was still continuing... when will it end?

“Erm, um, disposables and plastic pants.” For some reason I found it hard not to tell her everything.

“And they’re not bothered by this?”

I shrugged. “No one is.”

“So,” she said as if a final comment, “it’s safe for me to assume,” and she reached down to her handbag and pulled out her evidence, “that it was you who gave this to William?”

I should have known... the flat, unopened, though obviously childish cartoon disposable was waved in front of my face.

Oh f***.”


My sore bum tightened in reaction to this revelation and swallowed hard stifling the curse I nearly blurted out but she wasn’t done.

“Of course, as I’ve said, I’ve seen your fabric nappies drying in your garden and understood they were needed if the person was incontinent for one reason or another. However, this, rather babyish cartoon disposable tells me something completely different - that you like to wear them and love even more the childish nature of them.”

It was too late, the anxiety took over and a stream of warm pee engulfed the front of my nappy. I knew I had a robust pair of plastic pants that would prevent any dribbles or leaks but I still wasn’t sure if she knew what was happening.

This wasn’t fair I hadn’t come to be intimidated or to explain myself I came to see how a sick friend was. However, I had given her son a particularly juvenile looking disposable and I suspect he’d been under more stress than I was trying to explain it.

She looked at me to see if I would react to what she’d said. It was strange, once again I’d been caught out and instead of following the “own it” advice I’d given to Mark, I faltered and was unsure what to say or do.

Although my nappy was rapidly filling up I knew the thick material would deal with it all. Maybe I should have set about praising the pluses of wearing a nappy, the comfort and security it gives but I figured it was best to stay quiet. It’s not that easy to explain everything. Not only that but where was Mr Edwards? What was he doing with Mark that was taking so long? I wanted to go home.

However, what suddenly flashed into my mind was that boy on the bus, he didn’t seem to mind my padding, nor did Tom or mum so, what had it got to do with Mrs Edwards, other than I’d given one to her son?

“Yes, I did give Billy...

“William,” she corrected.

William. Yes, I did give William one of my spare disposables because he told me you had put both him and Mark in fabric nappies as a punishment.”

Surprisingly the stern lady smiled at that. “Is that what he told you?”

The fact that she was smiling should have been an indication there was more to it than that but I didn’t catch on in time.

I carried on in my defence. “I thought it might be a nice break from the fabric nappies he says he has to wear... I find them quite comfortable and fun... so I thought...” She was looking from me, flushed with embarrassment and the cartoon on the front of the nappy. Had she shaken it out and used it on Billy, there would have been a host of other childish characters to see.

I didn’t mention that he disliked the fabric ones or that they had to use them or that he said he preferred the disposable. I was already regretting possibly saying too much and getting Billy into trouble.

I saw she was still smiling but shaking her head, whilst fondling the supple material.

“You know Jason. You’ve had more of an effect on my boys than you possibly know.” I had no idea where this was going. “But, William and Mark are both boisterous boys who, over the years have had to be reined in. Of course, not everyone approves of our methods but we could discuss these at length and we’d still disagree. However, recently, when one of them broke the rules we as a family have set down I wondered if there might be an alternative... and that alternative was... you.”

What? I mean, what do you mean?” I was worried.

“Well, I looked to the way you and your mother interact with each other and you’re always happy. I’ve never heard a bad word said against you, nor have I ever heard you swearing or carrying on in the street. The fact that you regularly wear nappies I assumed was one of the reasons and I simply wondered if those folds of material would have the same effect on my two.”

Oh, this was sounding like... but my thoughts were broken as she delivered the coup-de-grâce.

“So, because of the way you are... and the nappies you wear... you are responsible as to why William and Mark now wear them as well, in the hope that their attitude would be more like yours.”

She smiled when she saw how horror-struck I looked.

“I hoped by emulating what I thought your mother must be like with you, and whom I assumed let you keep your nappies because they held you in check, I would see a similar change in my two.” She beamed because she hadn’t done. “Guess what? The wearing of nappies has changed them a little. So, thanks to you, and your nappies, we’re keeping them in their more traditional padding for the foreseeable future. Maybe eventually Jason, we’ll get a couple of boys who are as well-behaved as you.”

I could feel my anxiety levels were just about hitting panic stations and I almost grabbed for my dum-dum in my pants pocket. However, I had second thoughts about that because she would have known too much about what I liked and that scared me.

She’d assumed a great deal but assumed correctly that my nappies were more than just to cover for teenage incontinence and it worried me. What other assumptions she’d made, or was likely to make, that were correct.

I was completely and utterly stunned by her perception but at that point Mr Edwards arrived from upstairs.

“Oh hello Jason, wasn’t sure it was you at the door. Well, both boys are changed and ready so Mark’s in bed but William... well why don’t you go up and see for yourself?”

As I made the move to the bottom of the stairs I heard Mrs Edwards call out.

“Thanks for all you’ve done Jason... you’ve certainly helped us without even knowing it.”

Without turning around to see for myself, I just knew they both had smiles on their faces.


Slowly and nervously I made my way to the boy’s bedroom pondering what I was going to say to them. I was also wondering if their mother had told them the reason they were now subjected to nappies and my part in that decision.

Billy must have heard me coming and greeted me at the bedroom door.

“Oh hi Jase glad you’ve come to see us.” He wasn’t smiling but at least he seemed genuinely happy to see me. What I also noticed was the huge padding he now sported under his loose fleecy grey shorts.

“How’s the injured soldier?” I joked as he led me into their room.

“See for yourself.”

“Mark still looked a little pale but was lying on his bed in his pyjamas though the similar bulky padding could be seen underneath. There was a small strip of white plastic pants jutting out over the top of his pyjama bottoms but I pretended not to notice.

“Hi Jase.” He weakly said.

“Oh Mark, you look, well, sort of alright-ish... but I guess having an exploding appendix was no fun, eh?”

He nodded with a grimace that was almost a smile but could tell, even though it was early, he appeared quite sleepy and I didn’t want to keep him up too long. Mum always said to me that sleep was the best way to recover from illness so I assumed it was the same for everyone.

“Well, I’m glad you’re back with us...”

I heard a slight sigh but didn’t know if that was because he was still hurting or the fact he was wearing a thick nappy and back with his parents.

“The doctor said it will be a few more days yet before he’ll be up to full strength but... I’m glad he’s back as I’ve really missed him.” Billy looked over but his brother’s eyes were closed. “Can I get you anything bro?”

There was no reply just a subtle wiggle and slight rustle as he settled down to sleep.

“Well I’ll not stay...” I said trying to get away from the Edward’s house. This had not been the visit I expected and the adrenalin was pumping though my body... or it could have been shame.

“Before you go...” I was manoeuvred to the furthest point away from the now dozing Mark. “Mum found the disposable and interrogated me as to where I got it...”

“Yes I know she’d just waved it at me.”

“Oh, sorry about that Jase but I didn’t tell her it was you, I said I found it and I was just wondering...”

“Well she knows it was from me because she guessed.” I suppose I had to explain how she guessed. “She’d seen nappies out on the line in our garden at some point and put two and two together.”

He looked at me stunned. “Did you confess?”

“Well it seemed silly denying it as she knew and I didn’t know then how much you might have told her so I said it was all down to me. I said I felt sorry because you had to wear a fabric nappy and I thought a disposable might be nicer.”

I could see him visibly shake. “If she knew and it’s now been confirmed that means we’re in for a beating. She’ll say I’ve lied to her and dad...”

I gulped because I knew that was just what Mr and Mrs Edwards were like. “I hope it won’t come to that.”

“So do I but...” he shrugged as if he was acknowledging that it was a foregone conclusion and unconsciously rubbed his padded bottom.

“Oh Christ I’m so sorry Billy I didn’t mean to drop you in it.”

“No I know but... Well, you’ve done so much for mine and Mark’s self-esteem and I can’t thank you enough for being there and probably being the only other person we can talk to about this.” He rubbed the bulging front of his shorts as if I needed to know what he was referring to... I didn’t.

I nodded and hugged him close. “Sorry” I whispered “I’ll call again tomorrow or Sunday but if you’re out and about yourself you know you can always pop in to see me.”

“Yer thanks.” He wondered over to Mark and sat down on his bed and quite affectionately ran his hand through his brother’s hair. “Poor guy, I hope I can protect him, he’s been through such a lot.”

There was that brotherly love that I knew I had nothing to do with, if only their parents saw just how loving and responsible they are I’m sure things would be different. Alas, my involvement is already too much so decided to keep my own counsel on that opinion.

“Okay, better be off, didn’t tell mum I’d be calling in before I got home so no doubt tea will be waiting when I get in.”

“Yer sure... see you later and thanks for calling in.”

As I made my way downstairs I was met at the bottom by Mrs Edwards, she smiled. “Thanks for coming Jason. You’re a very thoughtful boy and surprising friend.” She then passed me the cartoon disposable. “By the looks of things, you’ll need this more than William.”

As I put on my shoes she pressed it into my hand, opened the front door and watched me waddle from the house in my sodden and swollen padding.

As I walked the hundred or so yards between our houses I couldn’t help but feel incredibly guilty. I’m not sure if it was any one thing but a feeling engulfed me that it was my fault and yet wasn’t too sure just what that fault was. 


Surely I can’t be blamed for the Edwards’s choosing nappies as the punishment for any rule breaking in their household... except it’s my wearing of nappies that gave them that idea. What’s more, that’s two more people who are aware of my situation and who didn’t seem to think it too odd. Maybe they did and that’s why they came up with it to punish their own kids. Oh dear, I felt awful about the entire thing. The one bright spot, mum was waiting as I walked through the doorway with a smile and a hug. Thank God for mum.

After the usual greetings and a brief explanation of calling in on Mark I excused myself as I desperately needed a moment to myself and a change.

“Don’t worry love, it won’t spoil, it’s just a salad... a ham salad,” she added to be precise.

“Okay, won’t be long just need to get out of these clothes and into...” I didn’t really have to explain and my voice petered out as the need for a fresh nappy became more important.

Naked but for my bulging nappy, all held close by those lovely plastic pants, I was pleased that they’d contained my anxiety led flood. The disposable was, despite being doubled up, quite sodden and I had to wonder if I was getting worse or just drinking too much. I have to admit we do go through an enormous amount of coffee and sodas at work.

Anyway, it was a relief to be out of it so fished out an old pair of pull-ups for a change. I thought I might welcome the less bulky style and certainly hoped that sitting around the table with mum I’d be less conscious of the padded problems I’d unintentionally caused Billy and Mark.

I was turning over in my head whether to let mum know about the Edward’s decision to punish their sons and that it was based on their observations of us. I was trying to see the logic in their decision. I mean, although she’d told me, it didn’t make any sense... and yet...  she said it was having an effect. I didn’t know precisely how but that’s what she revealed.

Instead I told her that Mark was home but still looked terrible. The doctor’s saying he’s better off there than in the hospital but he needs a bit more time to fully recover.

“How’s Mr and Mrs Edwards coping?” Mum asked.

I had to think about not saying too much but still letting mum know I found them strange.

“Oh, you know? I really like the lads, they’re good mates and their mum and dad seemed happy to have him back but I think that set up is pretty weird.”

I mean, I was still getting over the fact that for some time Mrs Edwards had been observing our washing. That was something that had never occurred to me, that my nappies would be the subject of anyone’s suspicions.

Perhaps that was just me being naive and maybe the entire neighbourhood was well aware of my needs in that particular direction.

Mum just nodded conceivably she found them strange as well.

# tbc #

Part 14

As I ate the ham salad mum was saying that she’d booked us a table at Blades for 7.30 the following night.

“I’ve been online to check out their menu and there’re some things I wouldn’t mind trying.” She enthused.

Although I was trying to give her my total attention I kept thinking about nappies drying out on the line. How could I not realise that they might attract attention and speculation? Was I that dumb that it had never occurred to me that what I thought was a closely guarded secret, half the estate may well know? I wriggled in my pull-up aware that the usual thickness wasn’t there... and I was missing the comfort it offered. If I wasn’t eating I’m sure would have found comfort in my dum-dum.

I could tell mum was planning on making our celebratory meal at the restaurant something special and I nodded enthusiastically when I thought it was appropriate. She’d explained she was going to ‘try out’ a new frock she’d recently bought but had yet to have the opportunity to wear. Now I’m terrible at getting dressed up and although I’m always smart, the idea of suits, ties and highly polished shoes leaves me cold, smart casual is what I prefer. However, this was a special occasion so I would make the effort. Mum, on the other hand, said she’d already been into town and bought ‘a few things’ for my wardrobe.

I chuckled to myself, I’m eighteen (soon to be nineteen), a working man (?) and yet mum still thinks it appropriate to buy my clothes. Actually, when I think about it, when we’ve been shopping for clothes in the past I always end up agreeing to whatever she thinks ‘would look good’ on me. So, I suppose, in a way, I always dress as mum decides. I’m sure whatever she’s bought will be fine, although she wasn’t going into any details.

However, mum did drop a hint that she thought it time for me to get a haircut and was pleased when I said I was planning on going in the morning anyway. I wasn’t, I hadn’t even thought about it but, now she’d mentioned it, it was getting a bit unruly.


We watched a bit of TV and I had an early night. Of course I wore my now usual thick and fleecy fabric nappy and a pair of see-thru plastic pants, all of which I noted were much more comfortable than the pull-ups. Mum had done her weekly wash so my duvet and bedding had been changed and there’s nothing quite like slipping under fresh covers. She really does look after me.

I was just dropping off when the thought of nappies drying on the line re-emerged in my head and I couldn’t get rid of the notion that everyone in the neighbourhood knew about my wetting problem. Of course, what they didn’t know about, or at least I hoped not, was the huge amount of disposable stuff mum had bought for me and which I just loved to wear. Hopefully somethings was secret but, as my brain kept telling me, and not in a reassuring way, it didn’t matter whether they knew or not.

Of course that didn’t help because I spent a great deal of the night tossing and turning. Still, at least every time I did, the padding and lovely rustling sound, together with the glossy, slippery feel of the pants made me wonder what I was bothered about. Those sounds and that sensation are what I like about wearing protection so why was I bothered. I kept telling myself I wasn’t but the fact I was wide awake at 3am more or less said otherwise.


Eventually I did drop off and what appeared to be only moments later was woken up by mum saying it was nearly ten and I should get a move on. Of course I was soaked but the material looked more yellow than normal. Despite the amount of fluids I drink at work I’ve been trying cut down so only have a little glass of water with my meals at home.

When mum saw the nappy’s colour she asked if I was feeling OK.

“Yes, I think so just a bit tired... didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Anything bothering you?”

“Just the brightness.” Mum sighed because I knew that wasn’t what she meant but knew I wasn’t going to go into any further details.

Besides, it was such a vivid colour that at first I wondered if there was something wrong but mum checked online and then gave her opinion that I was dehydrated and should in fact be drinking more water and eating more fruit and veg.

“Right,” she said coming to some conclusion, “after our meal tonight, I’ll change our diet around a little to see if we can’t get your pee the right colour.” Mum loves a project.

She took the sopping nappy away and said she’d have to soak it before she could put it with the rest of the stuff of mine that needed laundering. Good grief, another line full of terry cotton squares for the neighbours to comment on.

As is often the case, we can sit without conversation and the silence doesn’t bother us. I’m not sure what mum’s thoughts were about but mine were on our neighbours. If Mrs Edwards examined our washing I wondered if others also did. I mean it seemed ridiculous to me that anyone would but, according to the boy’s mum, what was on our line was a beacon of some sort. One they could use to make assumptions, theorise and generally jump to conclusions. What on earth had the rest of the estate decided my nappies meant?


After breakfast mum reminded me about my hair and said she had work to do on her laptop. I had no idea what she was looking for or typing about but whatever it was seemed to be holding her attention. She asked if I was going to pop round to see if Mark was any better but after last time, I didn’t want to subject myself to any further grilling. I didn’t tell her that just said that I’d mentioned that I’d go round the following day; give Mark a chance to recover a little more. Mum smiled at my thoughtfulness.

I got dressed and made my way along to the High Street where the barbers I usually go to was closed - ‘Due To Family Bereavement’ the sign in the window said. I was about to forget it but noticed that a new place a little further along had opened up and it looked like there was no queue.

Tomaz & Dezi – Kurdish Hairstylists was what the new sign painted on the window proclaimed with a price list down the side. It appeared cheaper than where I normally went to so called in. I don’t know if it was Tomaz or Dezi but was greeted with a huge welcoming smile and a flourish of the hairdresser’s cape as I made for the chair he indicated. The other member of the duo was sweeping up some hair from a previous customer and he stopped to wish me a pleasant day. Both guys were young, dark and good-looking and enthusiastic so I hoped I’d be in safe hands.

As I sat down I felt my comfy disposable balloon out a bit with the trapped air. However, the leather seat and extra padding made it very pleasant to sit in front of the mirror.

“What do you want?” He asked with a heavy foreign accent and a smile.

“Erm” I hesitated because I hadn’t really thought about what style I wanted. Often I just say a trim and leave it at that but I was feeling I needed to change things a bit. “Erm, do you have any suggestions?”

He seemed to be caught slightly off-guard by my question but he simple tied the cape around me and said that most young men at the moment were having a Maddison cut. Now I knew that was a footballer but didn’t know just how it looked but thought I might as well be trendy and agreed to it.

About fifteen minutes later I left with a similar haircut that both Mark and Billy had, which meant it was very short indeed. I looked like a fifteen year old and my almost shaven sides felt cold as soon as I stepped out into the street. This was the most severe cut I’d ever had and wasn’t sure I liked it. In fact, I didn’t. I thought it was just too different from how I normally had it and wondered what mum would say when I got home.

As I walked home I was deeply self-conscious and, with my now soaked nappy (yes I’d filled it when I saw just how much he was cutting off and got anxious) and short hair I thought I looked weird. However, I passed quite a few other lads my age and possibly younger (it was difficult to tell) with a similar cut so at least I knew I wasn’t going to be alone... in fact, I now looked like Billy.

When I got in mum was still working at her laptop but turned and saw me looking more than a bit embarrassed.

“Oh sweetie,” she paused, “you haven’t had a cut like that since you started at junior school – short back and sides they called it then.”

“The Maddison,” I chipped in still not knowing if she approved or not.

“Well love, it’s a huge departure for you but I have to say I love it, you look very smart.”

I was relieved I had her approval and went to sit on the couch and watch a bit of TV. I needed something to take my mind off what I’d done.

One of the programmes was a review of the week’s football and I don’t know why I hadn’t noticed before but it would appear that over half the young players were sporting the same haircut that I was.

I smiled to myself – I was more trendy than I thought.


Around six mum made a move to get herself ready for our celebratory meal and told me that she’d left a few ‘bits and pieces’ on my bed. I knew what that meant and I was more than a little intrigued to see what she’d bought.

I quickly had a shower because a few loose hairs had been irritating my neck. After that I felt a lot better but when looking in the mirror still wasn’t too sure about the haircut. I also wondered if Tom would have any comments - would he like it or think it a step too far. For a moment I felt a little down because Tom wasn’t here to celebrate with us but as I gently patted my padded bum, his presence was still pretty palpable.

Well my hair was done now and would grow again if no one but mum thought it ‘nice’. Thankfully, being as short as it was didn’t give too many permutations to rearrange it so, after a quick comb it was done then I returned to my room.  

First thing I noticed was a nice new freshly ironed pink button down collar shirt hanging from my wardrobe. Secondly, there were a couple of cards which said CONGRATULATIONS; one was signed by members of my family, which was nice because none of them lived locally, the other from mum. Thirdly, mum had set out from my collection of disposables a pink pair with pink plastic pants AND a pair of new also sharp-as-a-pin pressed black trousers.

Mum popped her head around the door. “Hope you don’t mind me choosing what to wear but I saw this combination and thought you would look good in it.”

“Pink disposables?” I raised my eyebrows in a questioning but I hoped fun way.

“Of course, I picked the shirt to match them... what do you think? I think they look very stylish.”

I held up the pink disposable and pink plastic pants against the shirt... they did complement each other quite well.

“Just thought they’d all go together,” she came into my room beaming then a surprise; she presented me with a small present wrapped in gold paper. “And just a little something for you as a special reminder of just what you mean to me and to mark my wonderful son’s achievements.”

I hadn’t expected anything but nonetheless eagerly ripped open the paper and found a brand new black and silver watch, which looked expensive and had my name engraved on the back.

“Wow, thanks mum, it looks, it looks, fantastic... and expensive.”

“Well love, I think you deserve something a bit special. You’ve achieved so much this year and your results were just brilliant so I wanted to mark the occasion with something I hope will last a lifetime.”

“Wow,” I admired how classy it was and how thoughtful mum always was, “thanks mum.” I was a little overcome so we cuddled each other, me wearing only a towel and her in a lovely new dress. “You look pretty wonderful tooooo,” I said as she squeezed me even tighter.

She held me for a few more moments and whispered how proud she was and how no doubt dad would have been thrilled at everything I’d accomplished.

“I hope so mum, I sincerely hope so.” I whispered back as I looked to the heavens, which is where I knew dad would be if such a thing was possible.

Mum left to finish titivating herself up and reapplying some mascara, which had been damaged by a few silently shed tears.

Of course now I couldn’t object to wearing a pink disposable, not that I would because I’d been keeping them for a special occasion myself, so this had worked out fine. However, first I had to rub in my anti-rash cream and douse the area in talc, then fluff out the disposable which I have to say seemed to expand as the air got to it. It was unbelievably soft and wonderful to pull up between my legs and tape around my waist. The layers of fleecy material gently cupped my dangly bits and I wondered if I needed the plastic pants. However, mum had left them for me to wear so who was I to think otherwise. I shuffled the slippery looking fabric up my legs, added the pink shirt, looked in the full length mirror and giggled at myself; I looked like I should be advertising some baby product on TV.

However, once I pulled up the smart black trousers I looked like a sophisticated man about town. Well, perhaps with my new hairstyle that should be, boy about town, but even though I say it myself, thought I looked pretty good. The pants had enough room to accommodate the excess padding but I didn’t think it detracted from the overall fit.

“Jason... you look gorgeous.” Mum announced when I presented myself downstairs.

“So do you mum... let’s go shall we?”

I love to hear that slight rustle and feel the soft fabric rubbing against my thighs as we got in the waiting taxi and headed to Blades.


I won’t bore you with the menu suffice to say the restaurant lived up to its reputation of being excellent and expensive. Mum declared her starter, clam risotto, a triumph, whilst my Coquilles St. Jacques (scallops in a creamy white wine sauce topped with mashed potato and cheese crumb) was pretty tasty as well.

I joined mum in a glass of Chablis but left her to finish the bottle as we tucked into Lobster Thermidor and a pile of twice cooked chips as our main. It was quite an experience but I had to agree that Blades deserved its five star rating on Trip Advisor.

Although it was still relatively early days mum asked if I was happy with the way Tom and I were going. It was a simple and uncomplicated question and yet although I waffled on about how it was all still very exciting, at the back of my mind I was still hurt that he’d decided to go off with his other friends rather than be with me. Of course I’d already reasoned it out but still, that was something that nagged and made me think... what if?

Now, that ‘what if’ had been sparked by that lad on the bus. I mean, surely it wasn’t that easy to get someone’s attention and things to develop from there... was it. However, that one incident had sparked a series of thoughts going off in my head and at one point, I wondered about the nice young waiter who served us... was he a possible partner?

One glass of Chablis and I’m already giving myself to the first person who comes along. I wriggled in my seat hoping that mum couldn’t read my mind but, of course she could, she knew and understood everything about me. The front of my nappy grew warm because I was conflicted and I’d never been like this before. For me ‘what ifs’ was a dangerous and confusing path to venture down.

# tbc #

Part 15

It was just after 3am when I woke up feeling hot and a bit sickly. There was also the urge to break wind but I could sense that there might be more to it than that. Still in the dark I shuffled out of bed, my nappy already soaked but urgently needed the loo for other purposes. I could sense the build-up wasn’t good so swiftly pulled my closed door open to get to the bathroom. Unfortunately, I hadn’t moved my foot away as I swept it open so it banged onto it. I let out a scream of pain and in that moment, with nothing tightened up to prevent the inevitable, the inevitable happened and I filled my nappy with a huge smelly amount of what I presumed was my digested Blades’ banquet.

Because of my shriek mum was on the landing in a flash and even in the dark knew what had happened (possibly the smell giving the game away).

“Jason love, are you alright?” She didn’t wait for an answer but came in for a reassuring hug.

“No mum, leave me please... I’ve had an accident and... eeuugghh... my nappy is...” I was really lost for words as I waddled to the toilet and closed the door. I was right, as soon as I bent to release the plastic pants, I found myself adding to what I’d already deposited... this was not how I wanted my ‘celebratory’ weekend to go.

Hearing me moan and groan in discomfort mum gently knocked on the door. “Jason love, is there anything I can do?”

I just stood there in shock. I’d gone to bed still wearing the pink protection mum had laid out for our outing and, as it was still relatively dry when we got home, lazily stuck with it to go to bed. I hadn’t been able to get my pink plastic pants down before the second flow started and no matter how hard I tried, my sphincter muscle just would pinch tight. I blame Tom for that.

Eventually, I was able to undo both the plastic pants and messed in nappy and chucked them into the shower tray. Then I sat on the toilet for about fifteen minutes and hoped there was nothing more to come out. I could hear mum walking up and down outside on hand in case I called out for assistance.

“Mum, I’m OK, go back to bed.” I didn’t feel like I wanted to cope with the mess but I certainly didn’t think it was fair for mum to have to get involved.

“Are you sure? I don’t mind cleaning stuff up if you take a shower.”

“No mum thanks but... I don’t know how long I’ll be so please, go back to bed and I’ll sort it myself.” It was partly out of consideration that I didn’t want mum around but mostly out of shear embarrassment that I’d crapped my nappy. I was also nursing a throbbing toe where the door had smacked into it and it was with some relief that I noticed one of my dummies in a little plastic cup at the side of the sink. I gave it a quick rinse and shoved it in - the soothing effect was instant.

Although I’d been sweating cobs, as I sat there recovering I felt a chill. My stomach (or should that be bowel) felt better to have it all out than in but I had to make a move I couldn’t stay sitting on the toilet all night. Reluctantly I set the shower going and washed everywhere the mess seemed to have journeyed. I wrapped the soggy disposable in a plastic bag and put it in the lidded rubbish bin, which was there for any soiled disposables, and then dried myself off.

By 3:45 I had managed to pin myself into a very thick fabric nappy and had searched out the most robust pair of rubber pants I had. Thankfully my temperature had come down, I felt a lot better but crawled back into bed but with the dummy happily ensconced between my lips. The padding was huge but I wasn’t taking any chances and wanted maximum protection. I nursed on my dummy and felt the soothing waves slowly seep over me. It worked because when mum got me up (officially) Sunday morning I was dry as a bone.


I didn’t know if it had been the result of an off clam or weird bit of lobster but something had disagreed with my gut to cause such terrible diarrhoea. There was still the lingering smell in my room and was sure the bathroom would carry the stench, though could hear mum spraying air freshener around the house so perhaps it wouldn’t be that bad.

Mum came in just as I was sliding out of bed.

“Morning love, are you feeling better?” She came over and placed her hand against my head to check the temperature.

Sitting on the edge wearing just my ultra-thick padding and rather stout shiny rubber pants I smiled feebly and told her that I thought the worst was over and, surprise, surprise, I was dry.

“Well that’s a first in many-a-moon,” she chirped when sure my temperature was normal. “Do you fancy any breakfast?”

I thought for a second, wondering if more food might be a terrible idea and decided to leave it for a while; “No thanks, I think I’ll just stick to water.”

She opened the window further and jokingly gave one final spray in my direction and left. I eased myself towards the mirror and took in the sight - who was this cute, short-haired little boy looking back at me? My night’s padding was certainly thick but knew I would have needed that amount had I had further ‘problems’.

However, mum was correct, it had been several moons since I last woke up dry and as I was warm and comfy in my cushiony undies decided not to change until I had to. I slipped over a pair of pale blue fleecy shorts and pulled on a matching jumper then made my way downstairs. Walking, no waddling was certainly distinct and the way the rubber slipped around as I moved plus the gentle rustle it all made I thought was very reassuring.


Mum had suffered no ill effects from the meal so it must have been something only I’d eaten. I assumed it must have been from the restaurant but I could be mistaken and just as easily picked up whatever it was from elsewhere. Anyway, as I had no idea there was little point in thinking too much about it so after we’d put the washing on – yet another load to get the neighbours talking – we both sat and watched a little bit of Sunday morning TV. It was very boring, politics or religion, although the choir in the Sunday Service sounded pretty good. We eventually tuned in to a music channel that played ‘Golden Oldies’ which mum was very interested in listening to. She was humming along to songs I’d never heard before. Still, it was nice to see her so relaxed.

She checked the washing but decided it needed another cycle on a very hot wash. The neighbours weren’t going to get to see this lot because it clouded over and a drizzle started. It became one of those days where you simply don’t want to do anything... so that’s exactly what we planned... nothing.

Mum got a call from her sister, who lived a good two hour drive away that their mother (my Gran) was ill and could do with a little bit of help. Granny lived with Aunty Jane, well actually, it was Aunty Jane who lived with Gran as it was her house, the old family home they both lived in. Anyway, it seemed that Granny had a fall and was more or less infirm and it was all getting a bit much for aunty to be able to cope single-handedly and asked mum for help.

Of course mum said she’d be there the following day having checked with me first that I’d be OK. I pointed out to her that I was almost nineteen and a working man so would have no trouble coping on my own... thank you very much. I didn’t see the irony of saying all that whilst happily wearing a thick nappy and having a comforting dummy in my short’s pocket.

“Well if you’re sure love I don’t want to...”

“Mum go. Granny needs you more than I do at the moment and it sounds like Aunty Jane is at her wits end. I’ll be fine.”


So mum went off to pack a few things and when she disappeared upstairs there was a knock at the front door.

It was Billy, dressed in what now looked like his regular get-up of bulging cotton shorts and jumper, this time he had a little windjammer over it all.

“Oh hi Billy, come in, surprised to see anyone with this rain.”

“Thanks Jase, hope I’m not disturbing you.” He peaked into the living room to see if there was anyone else there.

“No, mum’s upstairs and I’m just, well, actually, doing nothing... sit yourself down. Can I get you anything to drink?” Strange but that always seems to be the first thing to do offer a drink to a visitor. Anyway he shook his head and headed for the sofa.

He didn’t look stressed but on past occasions when he’d visited there was usually something he wanted so I waited for him to start.

He looked at my padding but said nothing I suppose because I could see he was also well-padded.

“How’s Mark progressing?” I ventured.

“A lot better thanks. Still not quite ready to face the world but at least he’s moving around the house now.”

“Good, good.”

Ermm,” I knew from that expression that something was on his mind. “Mum and dad didn’t punish us, I mean me, for lying to them about the disposable you gave me.” He looked uncertain.

“Well that’s good... isn’t it?” I sounded equally uncertain but took a swig from the bottled water I had on the go hoping he hadn’t noticed the uncomfortable ‘gulp’ I’d just done at the mention of his parents.

“Well, yes, I suppose so but it’s not like them. They’re usually, well, quick to let us see ‘...the error of our ways’ but on this occasion... nothing.”

“Perhaps,” I ventured wittily, “they’ve seen the error of their ways?”

“I’m not sure. However, what I have noticed is that they talk about you and how nice it was of you to visit AND what a great influence you were on us all.”

A cold shiver ran down my spine as I wondered where this conversation might end.

ON US ALL?” He said with a curious tone to his voice. “Have you said something to them?”

“Not that I’m aware of but your mother quizzed me pretty heavily last time I came to see you both... and then presented me with the disposable I gave you before I left.” I didn’t tell him she’d said she thought I’d need it more than he did, which I did, and I definitely couldn’t admit to why the boys now wore nappies. “She did say she liked us being friends because I was a good influence but...” I shrugged as if I wasn’t aware of exactly what that could mean.

We sat in silence for a moment until mum returned.

“Oh hello William, nice to see you again,” she wandered towards the kitchen. “I’m just getting a drink so don’t let me interrupt anything. Does either of you two boys want anything?”

I looked to Billy to see if he’d changed his mind but he just shook his head no. “We’re fine mum thanks.”

After that brief distraction I continued.

“Have you noticed any other changes in your mum or dad? You know, are they different?”

“Well, yes. Although the pile of nappies in our room has increased significantly they do seem to be treating us a bit... nicer?” He said this in such a way that he could hardly believe what he was saying.

“Surely that’s good thing?” We were still whispering so mum wouldn’t overhear us. Not that it would matter because I’m sure she was always well aware of what went on and what was said in her own house. However, mum’s not one to hang about or eaves drop and pretty soon she was tiptoeing back upstairs armed with a cup of her honey and camomile tea.

“Yes it is but it’s only since you called Friday night... so it must have been something you did or said.”

“Well, I can’t think of anything but, well, if they’re being nicer...”

“You’re right. We should just be grateful that whatever it was... was... good.” Again he looked uncertain as if he expected a backlash at some point and he and Mark would pay the price. I dreaded that the boys would find out that their nappy wearing was down to me. Despite my lack of involvement, it was the sole reason they were now destined to spend so much time wearing them.

“Mum and dad have been really good about changing Mark since he came out of hospital.” I looked at him for further information. “They seem happy and smile as they do it... and what’s worse... or better I’m not sure now... they even offer to change me.”

We both sat there trying to take in this latest strange development though I knew we were both thinking completely different things.

Normally, once Billy had said what he had to say he’d be under instructions to return home straight away but now he had some freedom to take his time. Apparently he had his father’s blessing to be out until tea time so that’s why he came to see me. Of course I was his only mate he could discuss this type of thing with but now we had I chatted about last night’s meal.

He’d never been to Blades, or indeed any ‘posh’ restaurant so wanted to know all about it. I didn’t mention last night’s disaster I thought that was just too much intimate info, although it would explain why I was wearing such huge padding. I thought about telling him about Tom but decided that was a revelation I had to think more about.


Before he left he did say that according to his mum “I’d be a welcome visitor in their house anytime. It was always nice to meet such a polite and respectful young man.” He shrugged. “I don’t know what you’ve done or said but no other friend of ours have ever been made to feel that welcome.”

“Is that going to be a problem?”

“God no please come as often as you like Mark and I need a friend like you... especially if you can change mum and dad’s mind about these.” He said rubbing the front of his equally thick padding.

I smiled feebly – if he only knew.


When he’d gone mum came down carrying her case. “Not sure what to pack because I don’t know how long I’ll be but...”

“Well it’s Gran so take as long as you need... I’ll be OK.”

Mum smiled. “You know I did a double take when I came down earlier.”

“Oh yes... why?” I queried.

“Well you and William, hmm, Billy, looked like brothers.”


“Yes, same haircut, same padded pants, same...”

“Yes OK, OK, thanks... I get the idea. I look like I’m twelve.”

“No,” but she shrugged as if to say – maybe, “you just look comfortable in each other’s company and I thought it was... cute.”


“Well, you know what I mean. You two are so similar if I didn’t know better I’d think your father had a bike.”

“What do you mean by that?” I said most indignantly.

“Work it out, you’re a bright lad... or so your ‘A’ levels would signify.” Mum giggled and flounced off to the kitchen.

Eventually it dawned on me – she was inferring (jokingly it had to be said), that Billy and me were so alike dad might have, well, had sex with... Mrs Edwards. I was shocked that mum could even think, never mind say such a thing.

MUUUUMMMMM!” I cried in disgust and was even more indignant on dad’s behalf.

I could hear mum still chuckling at my outrage.


Later, I went up to my bedroom and played on my laptop for a while. I then began to think about mum being away and how I’d miss her. It meant I’d have more responsibility, have to get my own meals and, the job I rarely did, have to wash my own nappies. I could of course just wear disposables but then I didn’t know how long she was going to be away so I’d have to restrict myself. In the end I thought it would be a good test for me as I was a ‘big boy’ and didn’t need mum, no matter how nice it was to have her faffing around me.

I even entertained the notion of possibly bringing Tom back here and I’d cook him a meal. However, I paused the game and looked around my bedroom – it hadn’t occurred to me before but this was definitely a lad’s and not a young man’s bedroom. There were my pile of nappies and disposables on various surfaces, there were a couple of stuffed toys (and other toys I just didn’t want to get rid of) also lying around. I could see the books might appear childish to some but Super Heroes are for everyone not just kids. Even my bedding could have been regarded as a bit juvenile so, if Tom was to come back I’d have to make a bit more of an effort otherwise, what with my new haircut also making me look younger, he might think he’d been breaking the law.

In my head I was picturing Tom and me in my bed and I have to say I liked the thought but then a sudden different notion crossed my mind – would I be letting mum down? I mean, this is her home; would I be somehow sullying something sacred?  It was at that moment, caught in the middle of rapture and guilt, that I wet my nappy and not just with pee.


Monday morning and because she wanted an early start mum was up organising and getting things ready. She left me a list of things not to forget to do and her phone number... as if I didn’t know that off by heart. She didn’t look flustered but was busy, busy, busy as if there was just too much to do and no time to do it all in. However, she finally stood at the door with her coat on and looked ready to leave for Granny’s house.

“OK,” she said and then reminded me that there were pre-prepared meals in the freezer, which I knew about (also forgetting the proposed new diet concentrating on fresh fruit and vegetables). Meanwhile, she jokingly alleged that she’d organised Mrs Reynolds to come and tuck me in on a night. This was a reference to my old babysitter and added that I weren’t to have too many wild parties whilst she was away. I promised only one or two... maybe three. Then it was time, so took her case out to the car, and with a kiss on the cheek said she’d be in touch and with a wave drove away. I hadn’t realised just how much seeing the car disappear down the road would affect me and despite my farewell smile I was quite sad inside.

I’ll be nineteen in a few weeks’ time and this would be the first occasion I’d be on my own in the house since, well, ever.


Later, when I’d got myself together I noticed that I’d leaked and the padding needed changing. Thankfully, the bright orange colour had diminished a bit, which I put down to just drinking water all day Sunday. I put my laundry in the washer and sorted out what to wear for work. I went to the drawer with all my disposables and was thankful to see mum had re-stocked – bless you mum. I picked the one out I wanted; thick, very soft, plastic backed, pink and blue and had cartoon images of unicorns all over them. Yes this is what Tom was going to see on our reunion.

Actually, Tom was just jogging into the building when I arrived and looked the absolute embodiment of a jock. You could tell from the way his tight lycra gripped his muscles that he was used to playing a more physical sport. No doubt, this weekend had seen him indulge in a game or two because there was a slight bruise under his left eye. Still, even sweating like he was after his run, he looked fantastic and I was excited that this handsome athlete was my boyfriend.

He noticed my new hairstyle and I saw him raise his eyebrows but didn’t say anything although I think there was a nod of approval.

“How was your weekend?” We asked almost simultaneously. 

As I started giggling at such a silly thing to happen he put his hand on my shoulder and guided me towards the men’s room where the toilets and showers were. He mentioned that ‘the boys’ had won their games and he’d been able to play for the second team in one game (thus the slight injury) but overall, it had been a brilliant weekend.

I was loath to tell him that mum and I had gone to a fancy restaurant and that I ended up shitting myself. My ‘raucous’ weekend didn’t seem to compete with a game of rugby and no doubt gallons of drink. I simply said it was quiet and that I missed him. He was all but naked when he pulled me close and gave me a wonderful long kiss. He didn’t seem to remember we were on company property, that or he didn’t care who knew anymore. Still it was nice and we were alone.

He ran his hand appreciatively through my now shorn locks and whispered that I keep surprising him. He patted my padded bum and smiled, so I knew it was in a good way.

“God you just get sexier and sexier.” He whispered in my ear.

I was instantly pleased he’d missed me and I wanted to tell him how much I’d missed him but I knew he was hot and sweaty after his run and really needed to take shower and change, so thought I’d keep my thoughts to myself until later.

Whilst he stripped the final piece of lycra away it became abundantly clear he was as horny as hell and found myself up against the wall, with the nappy around my knees and feeling just how much he’d missed me. This was an unexpected departure from his earlier attitude of keeping things professional at work. Thankfully the shower area had its own doorway so we could hear if anyone entered. However, I’m not sure just what we would have heard because of the squealing (from me) and sounds of orgasmic delight (from him). This was not the way I thought my day would go but WOW, it was a start that took my mind completely off mum’s trip to see my ailing Granny.


I left him to finish taking his shower and the next time a saw him he was wearing his lab coat and looked suitably refreshed. I on the other hand was somewhat soiled, guilty and felt I needed to go to the loo. Heaven knows what the little unicorns prancing about on my nappy thought. However, I was also hoping we could replay that kick off to a morning sometime soon.

The professor called us all in to a meeting and said that although we were progressing well with our project the government had come up with something else and it meant a couple of the team would be heading to another lab in the capital. I didn’t like the fact he was looking at Tom as he told us that... and I was right, it was Tom he wanted to lead this new assignment.

Of course I was hoping against hope that I’d be in this small select team but the prof indicated two other guys who he’d chosen to go. I should have known I wouldn’t be picked because I didn’t know enough; this was a specialist area and needed specialists to take it on. My ‘A’ levels alone were no match for a Doctorate or Degree in Biochemistry and the team were scheduled to leave on Wednesday. I was devastated and my cute little unicorns got flooded as a result.

# tbc #

Part 16

What had started off as a real buzz to the day had trailed off and I began to feel quite depressed. Not only had mum gone to see Granny and her sister but now, the one person I hoped to see me through this loss, was leaving as well. By lunch time I was reacting like a lost kid wondering how I was going to cope. Hell, I’m almost nineteen I shouldn’t need others to make me feel valued but Tom came up and put his hand on my shoulder.

“Sorry Jase, not my plan but I can’t not go.” He seemed genuinely upset.

“Yer I know it’s just... well...” I decided not to tell him about mum not being around as it sounded so pathetic on my part. “I just hope you’re not going to be based there for very long. Did the prof say how long it would be?”

“Afraid not... just it’s an urgent project that needs to tie-in with this one here so, as long as it takes I suppose.”

“Do you know where you’re staying?” I wanted him to be near for as long as possible.

“Yes, we’re booked into a hotel just around the corner from the labs, it’s about a twenty minute tube ride into the centre and all the theatres and such...”

I let out a huge sigh.

“I don’t suppose we’ll get much chance of taking in a show though... the schedule’s pretty tight.” He put his arm around my shoulder and gave me an encouraging hug. “Look, if you’ve nothing planned why not come to my place tonight, I still have a lasagne with your name on it.” He grinned as if this was going to be a regular invite and we’d never get round to eating that particular frozen delight.

I wanted to joke that after all this time it probably had everyone’s name in mould on it but just nodded. “Yes, I’d like that.”

The rest of the day Tom and his little team were in a meeting with the professor planning what needed to be done. Meanwhile, the rest got on with our area of responsibility.  By home time Tom was still in the meeting, which looked pretty intense and like it was going to be a while before he was free.

I paced up and down outside the office and eventually the prof asked if there was anything he could help me with.

“No sir, just I’d made arrangements with Tom to go for a drink... I just wondered if it was still likely.”

“Afraid not young man,” the prof sympathised, “we have some fairly urgent things to sort out. Tell you what; I’ll take everyone out for a drink tomorrow after work, how’s that?” He beamed at his spontaneous suggestion.

“OK,” I felt cheated and that little kid in me was on the verge of a little tantrum but I held it in. “Tomorrow then?” I nodded through the window to Tom but he was deep in conversation with Raj whilst examining some printouts.

On the bus ride home I don’t think I’d ever felt so pathetically alone. I hated the professor (which I didn’t but that spoiled little kid wanted his way and wasn’t going to get it) and when I got in flopped onto the sofa and tried to hold back my frustrated sobs. I didn’t succeed, as I was used to coming home to a warm welcome and a nice meal the place seemed empty and cold. The red light on the washing machine was blinking so all I had to look forward to was drying laundry, mainly my nappies, and a meal from the freezer. So slipped the damp washing in the drier and my Shepherd’s pie in the microwave, thank god that in my self-pity I got that the right way round.


Mum called and reported that Granny was reasonably OK but had sprained her arm and heavily bruised her hip so was, as aunty suggested, all but infirm. She also said that she hadn’t realised just how much work aunty had to do to keep the house and Granny in any kind of condition so planned on staying a while to give her sister a break. She also joked that she was catching up on years of local gossip and that would keep her enthralled whilst she was there.

Of course she asked how I was coping but didn’t want to burden her with my problems so just said I was doing fine and she should go away more often. At the end of the conversation I said that I missed her and could hear the despondency in my own voice – so much for those coping skills.

Later I also got a call from Kili about his trip to Oxford looking around the Uni and seeing about accommodation. Apparently, his family had relations down there so he was able to snag a room with one of them. He suggested, if possible, that we all meet up at the weekend for what was likely to be the last drink together before our little gang (James and Ralph) all went our separate ways. As he was talking I was thinking that since I’d started work we were already drifting apart. I hadn’t seen them much and even our calls to each other were few and far between. Perhaps this would be the last time we’d all be together.    Although not really in the mood I agreed, I needed something to take my mind off of wondering about Tom and what he’d be doing.

The problem then was that once I started thinking of Tom I remembered what we’d done that morning and that got me all excited. I went to bed and stripped down to my disposable. I’d had to change during the lunch break from the unicorns to a nice thick bright blue pair. So now I simply decided to see how durable this particular colour was when given a rather heavy pasting. I’m not proud of the fact that my Monday night was given over to making a mess in my nappy.

I eventually fell asleep but there wasn’t much absorption left if I had a particularly heavy flood in the night. Thankfully, there was a pair of pink vinyl pants in my bedside drawer so pulled them over it all after I’d finished. I looked at the clock and it was getting late but I was still trebling with nervous energy. Once again, my ever trusty dum-dum calmed me down and fell asleep relatively quickly.


Tuesday morning I got into work early in the hope of catching him arriving fresh from his run and eager to repeat yesterday’s start. Unfortunately, he was already there and in deep conversation with his team and the professor, it looked like they’d hardly moved since last evening. Anyway, I got a cheery wave from Tom when he eventually noticed my arrival and I popped my head around the door to see if I could get drinks or anything for anyone.

That part of my helpfulness completed I set about my own tasks of bringing up to date the manifest of stuff coming and going and the list of items that Tom and his team needed to take with them. I was glad that in this small way at least I was helping him but I also knew that with each piece of equipment packed meant he would be away from me for longer. I rubbed the front of my padding for some solace and was pleased to feel the bulk and hear the crinkle... at least that hadn’t abandoned me. I don’t know what’s wrong with me because I let flow and got a great deal of comfort from the resulting warmth around my crotch.

At lunchtime I went to the toilet to change my disposable and was followed in by Tom.

“Do you need a hand?” He offered cheekily.

“I can always use your hand.” I offered back and he stepped up and kissed me heavily on the lips. It was a long and passionate kiss. Eventually broke off but holding me close he whispered, “I was so upset about not seeing you last night that when I eventually got in I wore one of those lovely disposables you’ve introduced me to... and thought of you all night.”

Mmmm, I did the same.” I confessed.

“God, mine was a mess this morning.” He grinned guiltily. After a few moments he realised he was at work and had more to say. “Look, we’ve all but finished with our meeting, although the boss wants to take the team out for drinks tonight. How about us making our excuses early and you come back to mine and we can... examine our nappies together?” He raised his eyebrows in a comical manner.

“Sounds like a plan... but... in the meantime I need to new one.”

“Then allow me young man to help change your protection... although I must warn you, it will offer no protection for you this evening.”

However, we were interrupted by someone coming in and telling Tom the professor was looking for him so, I had to do the deed on my own. I felt cheated but made sure I’d make up for it later.


The professor was as good as his word and early evening drinks were enthusiastically appreciated. The prof had assembled quite a good, young but knowledgeable team and I felt proud to be part of it... even if I hardly drank.

Anyway, after about an hour Tom and I made our excuses and left. I don’t think anyone batted an eyelid that we left together as they were getting another round in thanks to the professor’s generosity. Tom had downed a couple of pints (or four) whilst I’d stuck with my pint of Coca Cola. Once back at his place needless to say, the lasagne didn’t get a look in as we toddled straight to his bedroom and stripped.

He began to take off his clothes as he hummed the stripper music and I watched in delight when he threw his trousers into the corner and was wearing a lovely thick disposable.

“Now you,” he looked dangerously sexy at me and then said on second thoughts to wait as he wanted to strip me.

I wasn’t complaining as he got me down to my plastic pants with incredible ease, all the while telling me how sexy I was and what he was going to do as he licked and kissed and caressed my sensitive skin. I had to stop myself from exploding in my nappy from the build-up. Jeez, Tom is one very horny guy and I think it’s catching because these days I’m the same.

We lay on his bed skin pressed up against skin, thick disposable crinkling against thick disposable and our lips locked in a deep and satisfying embrace. His fingers found my left leg hole and he inched up.

“Ohh, my little bear’s not wet yet?” He cooed in my ear.

“I’m sure it won’t be long that Coke has gone right through me... are you pissing in your...?”

He smiled. “Certainly am, I don’t see why you should always be first... and my god, it’s such a relief.”

I’m not sure if he’d ever rubbed wet nappies together before but it was an experience he seemed to enjoy. We were both on the edge the entire time.


I woke up the following morning to my usual soaked nappy. Thankfully after we’d spent most of the night having sex, and after my disposable had been ripped off for easier access, I still had enough about me not to want to wet Tom’s bed. He was delighted to treat me as “the sweet little boy I was” as he fitted me in one of his thick, white disposables. He even slept in one himself but mine was covered by the plastic pants I’d been wearing at the beginning of the night. I was glad I’d thought that far ahead because I was very wet indeed.

Wet and sore – that was a combination I was rapidly getting used to. It wasn’t that Tom was thoughtless or demanding but he said that once we started he found it almost impossible not to continue until he could do no more. I think the term is ‘being fucked senseless’ but don’t let mum hear me swear, however, I was of the same opinion. As I think I’ve mentioned, once Tom opened up that Pandora’s Box of sexual delights I was hooked and enjoyed the ride literally and figuratively.

Anyway, when I woke up I was in his bed alone but I could hear him showering. In our sexual excess I’d forgotten that he and his small team had an early train to catch and that I was going to have to spend some time on my own. I looked around the room and Tom had cleared away most of the mess we’d made so I just lay there waiting for him to finish in the bathroom and my turn. I could see that he’s all but packed his suitcase as it was still open but obviously waiting for some last minute items to be included. I wondered if I could fit in there snuggly covered by his shirts and underpants. Oh well, a boy can dream.

He returned from the shower looking all manly and athletic. Jeez, he did look good with a towel wrapped around his waist and drying his lovely locks with another one.

“Next.” He announced and I made my way to the bathroom but not before he patted my soggy bottom and planted a long kiss on my lips. “Just so you don’t forget me whilst you’re in there.” He teased.

Bloody hell, I just came in my nappy. It’s going to be very difficult not seeing him every day but I suppose that’s what growing up is all about. I just hoped he’d be back soon and as I loosened the tabs on my sopping wet nappy I filled up with emotion and had to rush into the shower to hide my tears.


When I came out Tom was all dressed and ready for off. I knew he had a taxi coming to take him to the station. He looked wonderful, even his casual clothes looked superb on him; he was one of those guys who didn’t have to try too hard to look good and confident no matter what he was wearing. I bet even in his rugby outfit out on the pitch he’d get a lot of attention from the crowd. He couldn’t believe how lucky I was to have him as my boyfriend.

He’d laid and fluffed out one of his disposable and gently set about powdering and fitting me into it. He took his time gently touching and teasing my hard cock. I desperately wanted us to get back under those covers and to continue what we’d been doing all night but I could hear the taxi arrived ‘ping’ on his phone.

He finished dressing me and I accompanied him to the station where he gave me a set of keys.

“Look,” he said as we hugged, “I don’t know if you want to but, these are the flat’s keys so, if you want to, you can stay at my place, OK?”

This was a big moment, he was giving me the keys to his place so I could come and go as I pleased... and he was happy for me to do so.

I got all misty-eyed.

“Actually, if you could clean the place up, change the bedding and do the laundry that would be fantastic.” He joked. “No, but seriously... from now on my place is your place and I’d really love it if you could keep an eye on it for me and use it as you feel fit.”

We hugged again and snuck a little peck before he walked off and I had to head to work.

We’d said our ‘goodbyes’ earlier but I was still in tears as I set off walking to the office. A few people looked but no one said anything but by the time I got to work, although my tears had stopped, my Abena was soaked. I hadn’t seen him put one on but wondered if Tom was wearing his on the train... that was a thought too far and I made my nappy even messier.


Perhaps not surprising, work wasn’t as absorbing as it usually was but the professor congratulated me on what I’d been doing and I ended up being more involved in work being done in his office. It was quite a bit more intense but I have to say it took my mind off Tom. Although, the prof did say that what we were doing was to complement what he was doing in the capital. That made me feel better but I also found myself offering to work over so I was kept occupied but I was shattered by the end of the day.

The rest of the week simply flew by but mum was staying on at Gran’s. I decided I’d spend Saturday over at Tom’s place, clean it up for him and do the laundry; after all, I had helped make some of the mess.

I got there about noon and let myself in, it seemed a bit strange being there without Tom but I was determined to make a good impression by being the perfect boyfriend and having the place all tidy and spic and span when he did eventually get home. His place wasn’t massive, so it didn’t take me that long to clean but I changed the bedding and the washing took quite some time and then had to be dried... so by the end of the day I decided I’d stay the night and finish stuff off in the morning. I knew there was at least one lasagne in the freezer compartment and that’s what I slipped into the microwave. As I ate, all around me I could feel and smell Tom’s presence. Of course I had rummaged in his drawers to find his rugby shorts and at that moment I was sitting eating, wearing his shorts over my fluffy white Abena. If I couldn’t have Tom with me, I’d have the next best thing.

Around 9pm there was a knock on the door. I immediately thought it was Tom coming back to surprise me and couldn’t get to the door quick enough. I opened it and there was Terry from the rugby club. It was him and his team who Tom had gone to the tournament with the week before, so I was a bit surprised to see him.

“Oh hello, Jason isn’t it... is Tom in?” He smiled and looked over my shoulder.

“Oh, erm, ‘fraid not he’s working away at the moment... I’m just, errmmm, looking after the place for him. Don’t know when he’ll be back... sorry.”

“No problem, no problem.” He stood at the door but didn’t look like he was going anywhere.

“Is there something I can help you with?” I offered and wondered if he’d clocked me wearing Tom’s shorts or my padding.

“Well, yes, he should have a document I need for work... is it nearby... please?”

“Er, I haven’t seen it and I’ve just given the place a quick once over...”

“Not to worry, I know where it will be I’ve been here many times so know his routine. Can I just...?” and he gently manoeuvred himself past me and into the room.

I couldn’t stop him and, as he was Tom’s best mate I didn’t think I had any authority to stop him so that was that he was in and I watched him head towards the bedroom.

“He usually keeps all the paperwork in this little drawer by his bed.” He disappeared into the bedroom.

Off course the pack of disposables was still left on the bed after I’d changed into them... I’d also left my dummy by the side of them. Oh god what was he going to think?

I heard the drawer open and close. “No not there, I wonder where he could have put it.” He came back in and looked me up and down. “I tell you what, why don’t you make us both a lovely cup of tea and I’ll have a think where else it might be AND it will be nice to have a little catch up with his new buddy.”

“Again I wasn’t sure I could tell him to leave but I did remember him back at the rugby club. He was the one who said “Hope to see you again soon Jason” and had given me that knowing look.

# tbc#

Part 17

Whereas Tom is just over six feet tall Terry has a good three or four inch in height over him. He’s also less athletic looking but more muscular and brawny... so quite a big guy, who I imagine, on the pitch, would be quite intimidating. The thing was I didn’t know what Tom had told him about me or even if he’d spoken at all about our relationship so I was a bit stuck. Now of course, he’d no doubt seen the disposables, can obviously see me in one and wearing Tom’s shorts so suspect he’s not stupid and can put two and two together. I was nervous but as asked I made him a cup of tea.

“Oh thanks Jason, that’s very nice of you,” he seemed polite enough and guided me, cup in hand, to the sofa. “Well, this is all very nice.” He said as he took a first sip from the hot brew.

“Yes, well, I was just about to pack up and leave myself,” I said edging to the end of the sofa.

“Don’t let me keep you, Tom and I go way back so you can leave when you want.” I was being dismissed but I also suspected that there wasn’t a document he needed... he’d just come snooping.

He wasn’t threatening or anything just incredibly confident and cock sure of himself.

“Didn’t Tom tell you he was going away?” I challenged.

“Of course, now I think about it he must have done. I just forgot and, as I was in the neighbourhood...” He looked at me in a way that made me uneasy and I felt myself filling my nappy.

“We used to be at University together,” Terry started small talk and took another sip, “did loads together, shared everything and had a terrific time. He has a natural talent for rugby and that’s how we met... in a scrum and with my head between his legs.” He stated chuckling at the memory. “Great way to meet someone who would become a lifelong friend don’t you think?”

I was thinking ‘how can I get rid of this man without it getting of hand?’ but he seemed to think I’d find this small talk interesting.

“Yes we had some fantastic times; late nights in the bar, the initiation ceremonies for the team. He was very accommodating at those... and very, very popular.” He seemed to be happily reminiscing and hinting at who knew what. But, if it was true what he was saying, that was part of Tom’s life I didn’t know about, so, suppose it was interesting on one level - although I’d prefer to hear about it from him rather than his mate.  

“Tom is my best friend and a really good friend...” he continued as he shuffled a bit nearer. “He tells me everything and we do... well... everything. He likes...” He teased and then looked at me as if to say ‘should I continue?’ “Perhaps it would be better not to say any more... but... he’s right about you. You are very good-looking and exceptionally shaggable.”

“What?” I stood up and tried to make some space between us. “Are you coming on to me?”

It would appear that Tom had spoken about me to his mates... and maybe even told them about my need for nappies. If he hadn’t then Terry was quick to sum-up a situation after seeing the disposables earlier.

 “Well I assume you’d like that. A big strong man like me taking a sweet little boy like you in his arms...” he patted my drooping soggy nappy. “Oh, it seems like our little baby needs a change.”

He grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the bedroom.

“Get off me Terry.” I was furious but my fury is very unthreatening. “I won’t tell Tom if you go now.” I was adamant that this should go no further but he just smiled.

I grabbed my mobile as if threatening to call him but noticed that the battery was dead. Bloody hell, what if he’d been trying to call me?

He snatched it out of my hand and took a quick look to see if I’d dialled anyone. There were no bars and just the outline of a dead battery on the screen. However, he had more to say.

“How do you know that he doesn’t already know about this and that he’s fine with me tasting...?”

This was getting weird and uncomfortable but how could I get rid of him? Bloody hell, my bladder was leaking even more in fear and I bet he knew. I needed to keep up some resistance, I needed to say something.

“Well I’m not available... so you can fuck off now.” It was like a David and Goliath situation except I was unarmed and he was bearing down on me. I’m not one for swearing, it never crops up in my household so was shocked at my own language when I said it out loud.

He had that smile, a cross between sympathy and ‘we both know what’s going to happen so why fight it’.

“Look, I’m not going to hurt you but you do need that little nappy changing and I see you’ve left them out on the bed no less...” he pretended to be hit by an obvious notion, “almost as if you wanted a daddy to come along and sort out your little damp situation.”

“No I don’t...” but he was in my face and still smiling.

“I bet Tommy couldn’t believe his luck when he found you liked to wear nappies... a boy in need of protection and Tom just loves to protect.” He patted the front of my padding, “So, what kind of mate would I be if I didn’t change my best friend’s little friend... preventing him getting nappy rash,” He changed his tone as if he was speaking to a child, a baby even.

“Well I don’t need you anywhere near me... wet, erm, or not.” I sounded like a little kid refusing to go to bed at bedtime. I wasn’t in the least bit convincing.

Oooo,” he was now mocking me, “who’s going to stamp his little footsies then, mmm?”

Close up, like Tom he was handsome and confident. He knew what he wanted and exactly how to get it. Although I pushed him away as hard as I could it was without any success.

“Oh I think you protest too much. We can’t have Tom’s favourite little toy; I mean boy all wet now can we. So, let’s get that soaked nappy off and you on to... I mean... into something a bit more appropriate shall we?”


I fell backward onto the bed and he immediately reached for the shorts and yanked them off.

“Bloody hell Jason,” he turned me over, “a wet nappy doesn’t hide the cutest little bum...” He pulled down his jeans and let loose a huge cock, so much thicker than Tom’s, “we’re gonna have lotsa fun.”

“NO,” I screamed but he just turned my head and gave me a kiss, which silenced any further protest. I tried to crawl away but there was nowhere to go and I felt him pulling at the tabs on my disposable. That easily came away and threw it into the corner where his jeans had landed.

“No, no, no...” I begged but knew I was completely out manoeuvred.

“Oh I think we both know your protests aren’t very convincing... and daddy wants to make his little friend happy.” He whispered that in my ear and turned me over but not before shoving the dummy in my mouth.

I tried to spit it out.

“No, no, no you naughty little boy, if daddy puts something in your mouth it’s there to be sucked... understand?”

I didn’t reply immediately.

“Does my little boy need his botty spanking first so he knows daddy’s in charge?”

Although he said all this with a smirk I couldn’t make out if he was kidding, if this was a test or if I had no option. I felt too afraid to offer any further dissent and nervously started sucking.

“That’s a good boy... now let’s see what’s in store here.” I could feel his breath on my naked bum cheeks and felt his hot wet tongue invading my bum hole. “I just love basting a little chicken before we add the stuffing.” He licked deeper.

Oh fuck.


For a big guy Terry was very agile and had me doing all manner of things, in all manner of positions. He filled me up several times and his thick cock made quite the impression. He was at it for a couple of hours but eventually rested and we both dozed. I woke up an hour or so later desperate for a pee. What did surprise me was that I was laid like a lover on his chest, with my fingers idly twiddling his chest hair and was relaxed listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat.

The thing is, once we got going and although at times it was bloody painful, I was as committed as he was. He knew it and in a moment of screaming passion said I was a “baby whore... a tease for daddy”. In fact, that’s what he called me but in an appreciative way... I think?

Naked I waddled to the loo, the big man had made sure I’d remember him for some time. My bum hole was sore and wide and I couldn’t get to the toilet quick enough, which was something I’d not managed to do for some time, and emptied everything that needed emptying, and there was a lot of it. Terry had woken, heard me and came to see if I was OK. Sitting on the toilet was not the most glamorous position to start a conversation.

He stood at the door in all his hairy magnificence dominating the space and looking incredibly happy. His cock, even at rest, was superb and it glistened with, whatever it was, in the half light.

“I knew you’d like a big dick... most boys do.” He teased and I blushed as I let out a bashful fart.

“Well,” I sighed, “What do we do now?”

“It’s up to you baby. I just wanted a try out... like we do to any new team member to see what they can do... and to see why Tom’s so potty about you. Not bad.” He teased again... you could really get fed up with his self-confidence.

“What if I told Tom you attacked me?” I offered as a different perspective.

“Well you could, although we both know that isn’t quite true. However, please feel free to tell him everything.” He stepped forward and gently ran his hand through my hair and made a petting noise. “God you are so damn cute. Well, for one thing he’d expect it from me, though I’m not sure he’d expect that you enjoyed it with another guy. So it’s up to you how you want to play it. However,” he was being annoying again, “do you want him to know just what a slag you are?”

But that’s not fair... I mean...” The term slag had hit a spot. I hated the term and I definitely didn’t think it applied to me but then... what had I just done?

He interrupted my protest because he wasn’t going to let me play the victim here.

“If you’ll take my cock so easily why not others? Maybe we should have you down at the club for initiation night... the lads would love to take a shot at that cute little butt of yours.”

He said it as if it was something of a privilege to be asked but a cold shiver ran through my body. I knew he was right and I couldn’t pretend otherwise.

“I knew from the moment I first saw you with Tom that you were looking for a daddy. That shy, coquettish, demure little peek at all those hunky rugby players at the club. I bet you were wetting your nappy at the very prospect... even if you didn’t know it.”

I had wet my nappy at the club but how did he know?

“I’ve thought about you since then and last weekend, with Tom talking almost nonstop about you... well... I had to experience it myself. Like I say, Tom and me share quite a lot, a lad here, a bed there.”

‘A lad here... a bed there...’ did he mean what I think he meant?

“...and now, with your cute boyish haircut, those sweet little shorts and that thick, thick nappy... I just knew you’d want a big man to take care of you, to... fuck you. Make you feel special,” he added condescendingly.

“No I don’t.” I lamely argued but we’d just spent the best part of two hours proving that was a lie. Oh Christ he was correct, getting screwed did make me feel special, that’s why I loved it... oh hell.

“Oh sweetheart, do you ever have a daddy complex... no man’s safe with you around. Don’t worry,” he patted my naked leg and smiled encouragingly, “we daddies will do our bit but that means your little butt has to do the same.”

He disappeared and returned with a fresh Abena.

“OK then, let’s get you all nicely wrapped up cos I have to get back to the wife and kids but you, well you need to rest that wonderful welcoming arse for a while. You might be a bit sore for a few days but I think it’s going to be busy over the coming months.”

He patted my naked bottom.

I wasn’t sure if that was a threat or a promise but maintained silence as he rubbed in cream, doused me in talc and taped the fluffy nappy in place. All the while my hole felt like he was still pounding away... so he’d replaced Tom in that respect.

“There you go little one, all nice and tidy.” He seemed pleased with the result. “See you again soon... sleep tight. I’m sure daddy Tom will be glad that his little baby boy has been well looked after.” He popped the dummy back between my lips. “There you go... think of daddy Terry.”

With that he was off, I heard the front door close and he was gone.

I was left sucking furiously and later fell asleep but only after I’d taken stock of what had just happened.


I got back home around noon after I’d spent the morning tidying up Tom’s place and replacing the bedding. I’d brought some of the soiled sheets home to give them a good wash in our machine. I’d get them back before he had any idea. The next main thing I had to do was plug in the phone to recharge the damn thing. How I could have let it run down I have no idea but perhaps that’s why I hadn’t received any calls.

On the bus ride home I kept thinking of what Terry said about having a daddy complex. I mean, could he be right, did I have such a complex? When I thought about it I did always feel strange when older men were near. I always put it down to my own dad not being around and feeling guilty if I so much as acknowledged another man.

I loved my daddy, I mean dad, and really missed him for so much of my life but surely that didn’t mean I was searching for a replacement like Terry had intimated. The problem was that man had put so many thoughts into my head and made me even question his relationship with Tom, was it more than best friends? Not only that but I felt so guilty and that’s when my phone rang.


The charge had got to 49% and I saw I had a number of missed calls. However, this was mum so immediately took it.

“Hi mum, what’s new?” I answered as brightly as I could.

“Where have you been I’ve been trying to call you since last night?”

“Yes sorry, I went over to Tom’s place and forgot to charge my phone... it died on me but I’m charging it now and I see I missed quite a few calls.”

“You had me worried love...”

“No need to worry mum, I’m a big boy (oh the irony as I padded around the house in just my protection) just forgot... anyway, how’s Gran and aunty?”

We then spent a good fifteen minutes chatting about that and how grateful aunty was that mum had decided to stay. In fact, the news was that Gran wanted mum and me to come back and live with them.

“Just one house to keep... the bills would be down?” She offered as a possible reason for returning to the family home.

I mean, Gran’s house was bigger than ours, and there would be room for both me and mum to have a room apiece but...

“It’s nowhere near work and we have a life and friends here so...” It was my argument and possibly one mum had used to Granny but I suspect she was under pressure to at least sound me out.

“Yes love, that’s what I said but Granny wanted you to know the offer was there. I think she wants her family around her, the fall has sort of shocked her a little.”

“Be nice mum,” which I knew she would be, “but no.”


After that conversation finished I checked the list of other calls I’d missed. Normally, I don’t get many. In fact, compared to some people who can’t stop looking at their phones, I use mine for very little except calls. However, the calls had come in but I’d been too stupid to charge my phone.

The earliest was on Saturday afternoon and I recognised the number as that of the Edwards so was hoping it was either Billy or Mark and not one of their parents. The other calls were from James, Kili and Ralph, in fact several missed calls from each of them and then I remembered, I was supposed to meet up with them for a sort of farewell drink and I’d completely forgotten. Hell, I was so wrapped up in my own life I totally forgot about my friends. I wondered if they’d understand that I’d been abandoned by my boyfriend and so naturally got stuffed by his mate... I didn’t want to have that conversation with anyone.

I called them all and apologised but they were still surprisingly angry because they’d waited for over an hour for me to turn up. They then went on without me and trashed me to each other. I think there was just a hint of fun in Ralph’s voice when he told me that.

I’d also missed a call around eleven last night from Tom, just about the time I was coming down after being well and truly stuffed by his best friend.

I called him and he was out with mates in the city centre having a bit of a pub crawl but we still managed to chat for over twenty minutes. I told him I’d been round at his house and forgot my phone but he’d be pleased that I’d done as suggested - cleaned up and did his laundry. He said such lovely things about how thoughtful and loving I was. He told me how much he was missing me and how he couldn’t wait to get back home.

I didn’t mention anything about Terry’s visit. The guilt simply ran into the padding. I needed my nappy and was pleased it was one of his; the Abena was a slight but happy connection.

God, what a day and what a stupid night, I just hoped Tom would never know the truth but could I trust his best mate not to spill the beans, AND, what was that last remark about - getting back to the wife and kids?


As I lay in bed wrapped in one of my ultra-thick fabric nappies and hefty rubber pants a few things came to mind. Briefly I thought of how I’d actually been avoiding going round to see Billy and Mark because I was scared the reason for their nappy imprisonment would have been revealed and they’d both hate me.

I was angry with myself for standing my mates up for a drink, when it may well be the last time we’d all be together. I was hopeful though that at least Ralph would still be near. However, I could see that with Tom and work now the main focus of my attention even that link to my school friends may be slipping away.

Tom, Tom, Tom... the love of my life... why did he have to go off and work elsewhere? Why had it happened now and why couldn’t I see a way to fix it. But of course the worst of it all was what I’d done with Terry. I hated my betrayal, I hated the ease with which he got me to drop my pants (well nappy actually) and I hated, absolutely hated the fact that I’d enjoyed the experience so much.

It was difficult to play the victim when you’re squealing in delight and begging him to pound harder.

Although, as I lay back in bed wearing almost impenetrable protection, my hand slipped inside the soft thick fabric and erupted at the very idea of this bear of a man making me his little boy.

What risks had I laid myself open to and how would I react when those moments came?


Sunday night was not a night for any kind of satisfying sleep. All those thoughts kept invading my head and I tried to find solutions to them but failed. Tom made a brief appearance but it was Terry who dominated my dreams when I eventually did drop off.

I was kept in a playpen wearing nothing but a huge fluffy white nappy. Strangers would come and ‘coo’ at me over the fence and tell him what a lovely baby he had. Whenever I found a way to leave he would just simply click his fingers and I’d come running back. Daddy (yes in my dream I called him daddy), used me like I was there purely for his benefit and my body was his plaything. He’d tickle and poke and prod and tell me what a good boy I was when I wet. He lifted me out of the playpen and told me we were going on a lovely adventure.

I woke up to the alarm going off just as I was about to be introduced to the rest of the rugby team... how I hated that alarm.


Monday at work I could hardly concentrate, Terry’s cock had left me very sore, which in turn made me remember what we’d done, which in turn led to me making a gooey mess in my nappy.

I looked around at the rest of the staff... did I think any of them was daddy material (you see Terry had really gotten into my head). The professor definitely was but perhaps more Granddaddy than daddy, but I didn’t get the any vibe from any of my other co-workers. Tom had saved my skin with Tridwell so I suppose, without being aware, he was definitely daddy material. Then of course there was Tridwell himself, was he a ‘daddy’. Did he think of me as a little boy who would do as he was told? God, thinking this way had certainly opened up a can of worms.

The other thing that happened was that I kept looking at my phone in case I’d missed a call or text. Normally I wasn’t fixated on it but now I was obsessed but of course I was looking (hoping?) for a call from Terry - he’d become that obsession.

# tbc #


Part 18

The washroom at work was empty apart from me and I’d just finished changing a rather overly wet disposable. Thankfully, I kept quite a supply with me and had changed into a super-thick one with happy, nappy-clad bears printed all over. Normally they would cheer me up no end but as I sat there on the toilet resting and gazing at them my mind drifted.

How, since starting work, had I become so embroiled in a life that I’d never even thought about before? I mean, I’d thought about sex before but not to the extent I do now. Mum, nappies and my dum-dum were all that ever concerned me and I was able to put all that down to my anxieties. Since I started at Collins Scientific Development UK I’ve managed to get a man sacked, somehow made a couple of my best friends subject to nappy discipline and forgotten about mates I’ve had all my life. Of course the bonus is, I’m earning a living oh, AND, I have a boyfriend but then, at the first opportunity, I’m shagging his best friend.


Yep, that word keeps bouncing around my head and has never seemed more apt.


For the next couple of days I tried to keep a cap on my feelings. The prof had given me more responsibility and was happy to be distracted by that. I tried not to think ‘Granddaddy’ whenever I spoke with him but I’d feel my nappy warming and knew there was something else going on in my head and I wasn’t concentrating on the job in hand. Focus!

In the calls from mum I kept up this pretence that she should stay as long as needed and that I was doing fine without her - I was a mess. With calls to Tom, despite his encouraging and endearing words - I lied. I avoided calling Billy or Mark completely and knew that they were missing me because of all the calls I ignored – coward. I was desperately waiting on a call from Terry – SLUT.

By Thursday I’d washed, dried and ironed all of the messed in bedding I’d brought from Tom’s place so after work decided to return it and then never go back without him being there.

I let myself in and the place felt chillier than I remembered. I picked up the mail and left it on the counter top then remade the bed. All the time I was thinking, not of what Tom and I had done, but what Terry did to me. There I was again, trying to divert, it was what WE did as it definitely wasn’t all one way. As a result I produced another wet and sticky nappy.

I’d planned on coming and leaving once I’d made the bed and put stuff away yet I lingered, almost hoping above hope that there would be a visitor. I even put two cups out and boiled the kettle but I was left alone. This preoccupation with Terry had to stop. He’d done what he wanted and had no doubt moved on to another. AND YET, here I was lingering. My phone rang and realised before I saw the name TOM displayed on screen, that I was hoping it would be Terry.

“Oh, hi Tom,” isn’t the most enthusiastic response I could have mustered.

Tom didn’t seem to notice as he had news.

“I’ll be home by the weekend,” he gushed.

“Really, REALLY,” I added excitedly once it clicked to what he was saying. “That’s great news... when exactly?”

“Well, the project has gone to the test stage and, with what you guys have been doing back there, it seems all has gone to plan and ahead of schedule.”

“Well that’s fantastic...” I was hoping that with his return things might get back to normal, “Will that be tomorrow, Saturday or Sunday?” I wanted a timetable. I wanted my life back.

“I’m hoping to be on the 8pm train tomorrow night so should be back in the house by eleven...”

“I’ll be waiting.”

“I was hoping you’d say that because I can’t wait to see you again.”

“Oh, by the way, the last time I was here I ate on of your frozen lasagne’s so...”

“Don’t worry, I’m not planning on eating anything but you.” he chuckled. “So prepare for a feast.”

I took that to mean my finest cartoon disposables but what the hell... I might just be naked with a splodge of whipped cream strategically placed and surprise him that way.

We chatted for a bit longer and then he said he had to go but was looking forward to Friday night.

So was I.

I was looking to get a bit of normality back or at least to drive Terry from my thoughts. And a heavy session with Tom I was sure would do that.


On Friday night I left work and went straight to Tom’s place. I wanted to make it all warm and welcoming. It didn’t need much work as I’d done most of it the day before but still I’d bought some beers and wine for him and stored them in the fridge. I knew he liked a cold Bud and I added a couple of cans of Coke for me. Because I didn’t know exactly what time he’d be coming through the door I dispensed with the idea that I should prepare him something to eat but there again he said he wouldn’t be hungry and he might have had a sandwich on the train.

I also decided that the whipped cream idea was stupid I could have been sat around for hours like that and even I’m not that sad... maybe some other time. However, I did put a can in the fridge just in case.

The room was nice and warm so I shucked off most of my clothes and just sat around in my plastic pants and a t-shirt. It’s like my uniform when I’m at Tom’s place and I like to think he prefers to see me this way when we’re together.

At 8 o’clock I was imagining him getting on the train when I got a call and it was Tom saying that he’d just been called back into work as a problem had blown up and he was urgently needed. I was instantly deflated but tried to have sympathy with his situation but despite that I felt quite petty because I wasn’t going to see him straight away. I tried to keep the whining little baby boy sound out of my voice but I’m not sure how successful I was being.

The thing was he had no idea how long this setback was going to take but the boss had inferred that it might take all weekend. He was sorry but said it couldn’t be helped but was hot and hard just thinking about what we could be doing.

I jokingly said that I’d start without him and he replied that he was picturing me in my most colourful nappy and wishing he was face deep in it. All very sexy. We talked for a few minutes, which saw me pawing at myself through the slippery fabric, describing those happy little figures in my nappy whilst trying to turn him on.

“Oh Jase... you better stop... I’ll be coming all down this street otherwise and I’m not sure the public’s ready for that just yet.” He teased.

“Well my nappy’s just about to be...”

“Sorry Jase, back at the office... you’ll just have to keep it until I can be there to experience the full works.”

I heard a buzzer go, not unlike the one that allows us into our building.

“OK, I’ll call you as soon as I have more news but, here’s the boss now,” I could here a few words being exchanged, “More urgent than I thought sweetheart so... speak later. BYE.”

So, I was more than a little dejected after we hung up. However, as I moped around the house thinking of whether to go home or stay the night there was a knock at the door.

I just knew that it was Tom and he’d been having fun pretending he was busy and elsewhere and was going to surprise me.

I was excited and threw caution to the wind, pulled of my nappy and plastic pants, flung my t-shirt onto the floor and decided on a proper welcome for my busy but treacherous boyfriend... running to the door I threw it open...

However, going “ta-da” as if revealing a wonderful surprise gift didn’t help the complete look of horror on the visitor’s face.

It wasn’t the expected Tom but another of his rugby club mates carrying a plastic bag.

“Erm, have I got the right number?” he didn’t know where to look.

I slammed the door and raced back to the bedroom to get into some pants and a shirt.

There was still a tentative knock at the door so I couldn’t pretend no one was in but I was now a little suspicious.

I wondered why he was here and who sent him.


The knocking continued but I had time to put on a basic level of respectable clothing.

“Who is it?” I nervously asked through the closed door.

“Jason isn’t it? I heard from Terry that Tom was expected home today so I thought I’d pop round and see...”

“No, sorry,” I interrupted his reason for being there, “he’s just called and said he’s going to be delayed and not expected back tonight after all.”

“What, since I knocked at the door?” He quizzed.

“No, before you came.” I replied reasonably.

“Then why were you naked?”

That was a good question and I had a rational answer but didn’t want to discuss that at that precise moment.

“Look,” the dismembered voice said, “I’m Barnsy and we met briefly at the club a little while back.”

“Yes, I remember.” I didn’t want him to think I was an ignoramus.

There was a short silence.

“Are we going to have a conversation through a closed door?” Barnsy asked a little indignantly.

“Erm, I’m just about to leave,” I wasn’t because I was only partially dressed.

“OK then, but before you do... you wouldn’t mind taking this bag for him and popping the stuff in the freezer?”

This was ridiculous. What was I expecting to be ravaged by the rugby team? STOP being a stupid little kid and let the man in and act like a damn grown up. This all went through my mind as I unlatched the door and took in the good-looking confident stud that was leaning against the door frame.

Barnsy was more like Tom than Terry, slim, fit and easy going... his dark skin and features gleamed under the street lights and his smile easily lit up the room. Good grief I’m sounding racist but I don’t mean to, I mean, he was just a superb hunk and passed me the plastic bag.

“I work at Iceland, the frozen food place, and he text me to get some meals in for the weekend.”

“Oh, yes, I’ve eaten one of his lasagnes....” I added unnecessarily.

“Did you like it?” He smiled the question as if he was doing a report for the company.

Mmmm, it was OK.”

“Not the response the company expects.” He said it with such seriousness I didn’t know if I’d offended him or not. It was only after a couple of beats his face broke into a shit-eating grin that I realised he was joking.

I took a deep breath and hoped I wasn’t making a huge mistake when I opened the door wider and asked if he wanted to come in.

“No it’s fine. If Tom’s not here and you’re not expecting him any time soon, there’s little point in hanging about.” He turned to leave.

“Erm, I was about to have a cup of tea or some...” I ventured... a bit let down at being spurned in such a way.

“Do you normally strip naked for a cup of tea then?” I could hear the laughter in his voice as he walked off down the road.

Bloody hell, I’d made such a fool of myself and now both he and Terry will have some stupid tales to tell Tom. But what really upset me was being rejected like that. I mean, aren’t I worth a shag? I mean he’d seen me naked and perhaps that put him off. Oh hell, this is a disaster.

My ego just took a hit and I didn’t like it.


I stocked up the freezer compartment with what Barnsy had brought, a couple of curries, chow meins and caramel ice cream. Not a lot but filled it up nicely. I hoped he wouldn’t do a curry for me as I’m not keen on spicy food but there again, after all that’s happened I wondered if we had any future. Terry had insinuated that Tom would know he’d try and come on to me but would he tell him just how successful he’d been? I might be grateful for an invite to a curry.

I finished dressing properly, well, I put my underwear back on because in my haste to answer the door I’d just been wearing pants and a shirt. Anyway, as I wasn’t going to be entertaining anyone I slipped back into my festive disposable with all the cute characters and as it wasn’t wet, enjoyed the comfort of a nice thick bit of padding and a pair of clear plastic pants.

The bus ride home was annoying. I kept going over everything that had happened since Tom had gone and stupidly was trying to blame him for all that taken place. Oddly, a lad got on the bus that looked (well was dressed similarly) to the one who felt me up that time.  As he walked down the bus to his seat I was convinced he’d sit next to me as there were few spare places. I wriggled over to make room and could feel my nappy slipping around my groin but it was a comforting feeling. He then by-passed me and went to sit in the only other seat available next to a little old woman who had a small dog in her lap. Hell, I wasn’t even winning any contest against an annoying little yappy thing.

Well, I took comfort in the lovely folds of fabric that I wriggled about in; thinking that I at least had something the dog didn’t - but was lost as to just what that was.


Once home I was surprised at just how high my anxiety level was. I forgot about eating and made my way straight to my bedroom where I stripped down to my now soaked nappy and slippery pants, reached for my dum-dum and eased under the duvet. It had been more stressful than it had needed to be and it was annoying that all the stress was down to me and my expectations.

With mum not here to bounce ideas off, or just to have someone else care, meant I was a bit adrift in my own emotions. I needed to get a grip and not be so reliant on the actions of other people but, having said that, sucked on my dummy and wished mum would come home soon.

Just as I was about to drop off I got a text from Tom:

Barnsy thinks UR weird... why?

My body flushed in embarrassment and as it did so I filled my nappy even more but was just too distressed to do anything about it.

Oddly the disposable filling up gripped me a little tighter and the warmth was the only bright spot to a terrible evening. Never had I sucked so hard on my dummy as I rubbed the bloated plastic.

After ten, maybe fifteen minutes I was making very little headway in my endeavours. My cock, although hard, just wasn’t responding to the stimuli offered and I could feel tiredness take over. The rhythmic sucking eventually set the correct tone and I dropped off... glad to see the back of a truly dreadful day.

# tbc #

Part 19

Saturday morning I woke up to a knock on the front door. I looked at the clock and it was just past 9am so wondered if it was the postie trying to deliver something. However, the knock, although gentle, continued so I knew it wasn’t him. If there’s no answer they just clear off or leave a message to go and collect your package yourself. Anyway, still half asleep, I toddled down to the front door and opened it. Both Billy and Mark were standing there in what seemed to be the ‘Edwards’ uniform of smart polo shirt and matching shorts, complete with a nice subtle bulge for those aware of their situation.

Their smiles lit up when I answered but drooped just a little as they clocked my droopy nappy not particularly well hidden by my shiny but billowing plastic pants.

“Morning Jase, we’ve not been able to speak to you much recently so thought we’d come and check you’re OK?” I could tell Billy was eager to chat and Mark looked healthier than I’d seen him look for ages. His normal dour appearance and general fed-up aura had been replaced by an eagerness I didn’t normally associate with him. However, even though I could see he was still wearing padding under his shorts it didn’t seem to be worrying him that much.

“Wow, you two look like you’ve just completed some health kick... being ill looks like it does you good Mark.” He smiled at my attempt at morning humour.

I beckoned them in.

“Mum and dad are out for the day and we’ve been left to our own devices... the first time in absolutely ages...” Billy began.

“Is it some kind of test?” I asked suspiciously.

“Probably... but we told them we were coming to see you and they told us to do just that and they’d see us... eventually. Eventually? No restrictions... so here we are.” Billy seemed to think this was an incredible breakthrough and he’d obviously convinced Mark the same.

“Well guys it’s lovely to see you but... I need a few minutes to get organised as I can’t sit around like this all day...”

“Oh, don’t change for us,” Mark quipped. “We’ve often speculated what you’d look like in padding and I have to say... I wasn’t quite expecting such a soggy introduction.”

They’ve speculated about me, well, that made me feel less guilty about speculating (and often visualising) them.

“Well thanks Mark... yes... this is me after a night of wetness and poor judgement in the correct attire when answering the door.”

“Well, I love the cute little characters on your disposable,” he looked closely. “Although they don’t look particularly happy... more like drowned... what are they?”

“Erm, good question... I think they started off as unicorns.”

“I wish we could wear something fun like that instead of these,” he gripped the excess bulk through his shorts, “terry cotton things.”

I could hear the slight crinkle of his plastic pants.

His words sort of hit some chord – “wish we could wear something fun like that...”

“Well you have covers to keep any spillage in... are they not coloured?”

Unasked, and unexpectedly unashamed, Mark pulled down the front of his shorts. “Mum wants us to see when we fill our nappies so we have these clear, glassy covers or white, slightly thicker rubbery feeling ones... they’re pretty tight.”

This revelation had taken me be surprise so I just stared at his see-thru plastic pants and to the well-pinned cloth underneath. The two pins at either side were clearly discernible and had blue safety covers. I know because I have some similar ones.

I looked over to Billy. “Do you still have to do each other’s nappies?”

Billy nodded. All the while I was wondering how this morning came to be. Not in a hundred years would I have thought something like this would happen. Not only that, but I hadn’t instigated it. Mark had taken it all upon himself and to be honest I appreciated this new, forthright version of him.

“Well it looks like you do a great job... that looks both comfortable and tight; you can hardly tell there’s that much bulk.” Billy smiled at my compliment and I suppose was pleased that I’d given him a positive review for changing his brother’s padding.

“Do you wear fabric nappies like ours?” It was Mark asking the question.

“Yes, mainly to sleep in but last night I was just too tired when I got in and just crawled into bed.

“It must be great having the option.” Again it was Mark leading this part of the conversation.

“Well, I like both styles. Certainly at night I like the bulk but during the day I prefer the disposables.”

“Yer, they are pretty cool aren’t they?”

I was not so much shocked, more pleased at Mark’s attitude. I thought he’d be dead against anything even resembling a nappy but seemed to be admiring even my sopping one. The thing is both lads have always looked cute, even when the fates (and parents) seemed to have turned against them.

“So, you like my disposables do you?” I could see Mark nodding. The thing is he is the youngest member of our group but dressed as his parents now seemed to demand both him and Billy looked a lot younger. I don’t know if the short haircuts helped but I guess we could each have passed as Year 8s at school.

“Billy told me about you letting him have one of yours before but it didn’t turn out right...” He shrugged but still seemed enthusiastic. “I wish I’d seen it.”

“I wish I’d got chance to wear it,” Billy added with regret.

“Well your mum returned it to me but, as she’s not here... maybe?”

I thought that now was no time to be embarrassed, especially as they could still see me wearing a sopping wet disposable and besides... this might be fun. “Why don’t you follow me up to my room and I can show you the full array of what I have to wear, eh?”

Billy and Mark nodded eagerly but then for a moment held back. “Erm, will your mum be home soon?”

I knew from the question that they didn’t want anyone else to witness what might be about to happen.

“No, so you don’t have to worry. She’s visiting Granny and my aunt for a few days, which is why I haven’t been available recently.” This was a poor excuse so I quickly added, “So we’re on our own and can do what we like.”

Cool,” I heard Billy say as he looked over to his brother and smiled.

I have to say this was really good to see, both my friends didn’t give the impression of having a problem with either mine or their own nappy situation. In fact, if I read the circumstances correctly, they were on a mission to gather more information about just what I had in my collection.

They followed me upstairs Mark gently tapping my bulky padded bottom and chuckling as he walked behind me. My bed was unmade and I suspect the place smelled of urine but I drew back the curtain, opened a window and then suggested, as I went off to the bathroom to change, they might like to inspect the set of drawers that held my current supply of disposables and plastic pants.

I grabbed a plain deep purple disposable and matching plastic pants and, as they were wearing shorts, a pair of black cotton stretch shorts and black t-shirt.

“I’ll be taking a short shower guys but, have a rifle through and, if you want, choose a pair that you’d like to wear for yourself.”

I saw both the lad’s eyes widen as they opened the first drawer.


As I stood under the shower I had time to think. I was sure when I came out from under the warm spray I’d find my room empty and that it had all been a dream. Thankfully, as I soaped myself clean I could hear a lot of giggling going on so knew my guests were having fun.

When I got back I was dressed but Billy and Mark had taken off their shorts marvelling at everything on offer.

“God Jase, these are all pretty juvenile.” I was waiting for a put down but it appeared to be just an observation. Which I suppose is just as well seeing as they were wandering around in just the shirts and nappies. They were examining each cheeky bear in nappies or cartoon animals parading around, or brightly coloured dinosaurs. “Bloody hell, you have so many... they’re pretty fantastic...”

Their enthusiasm was heartening and the more they scrutinised the more excited they got with the feel and thickness of them all. I could see their faces light up with certain styles and suggested again that they chose a pair they wanted to wear and we could make it happen right then and there... if they wanted.

I saw them slightly wavering although both boys were dressed (or more correctly, undressed) in a polo shirt and tightly applied nappies with see-thru covers. As I’d noted before, Mark’s pins had blue safety covers, whereas Billy’s were orange. I’d not seen that colour before so was glad that they were able to introduce me to something new.

Even though I’d just put my shorts on I quickly removed them and joined in the fun but not before both smoothed their hands over the soft thick shiny purple material and expressed their desire to have some just like it.

“Have you asked your mum for something different?” I ventured.

“Not really, but we know what they’re like, not ones to spend unnecessarily on ‘luxuries’. I think we’re lucky to have plenty of soft fabric nappies rather than just one or two that need constant washing... even though we still have to do that.” Billy shrugged.

I shrugged in sympathy, knowing the boys hated having to do it themselves but despite that, they appeared to be less worried by such a task than in the past.

Meanwhile, the noisy fun continued as they were holding up various colourful disposables and assorted bright plastic pants, admiring the themes and designs and getting quite giggly and excited by them all. Soon we were discussing and comparing everything with everything else and it was like a group of toddlers had just discovered the best plaything ever.

Despite the fact that I’m almost nineteen, there were no ages at that moment. We were just three silly little kids having a whale of a time and not caring about the fact we were doing all this whilst simply wearing nappies.

There were several childish remarks of ‘cor’ and ‘wow’ and disbelief that I had so much and so many different styles. I even found myself admitting that mum had sourced them and had them delivered, which both boys found incredible.

I delved into an old box of hardly used ‘Durable Slips’ that I’d worn for ages, until mum came up with this selection of colourful, specialist underwear.

“These are what I used to wear, these and terry cotton ones like you, but then mum found something she thought would be more fun and...” I pointed the array of stuff the boys were examining with such devotion and interest.

“So, she obviously doesn’t mind you being...” Mark asked as he couldn’t quite believe the childish print on a colourful pair of plastic pants, “a big kid.”

I laughed. “When I’m wearing them I just have to think about the happy little design and it lifts my spirits.”

“How have you been able to wear them for so long and keeping it a secret.”

“Well, according to your mum I haven’t been able to keep it a secret but...” I chuckled. “I’ve been anxious for ages and I wake up most mornings with a wet nappy. I also have some anxieties at work and find I feel better knowing I’m well-padded there as well. My nappies have become like a security blanket. You know something you need to feel safe with? Well mum has always thought that if it was something I needed I should have and, as she was at pains to say many years ago... it has nothing to do with anybody else how I want to dress or the underwear I prefer.”

The boys were spellbound by my little speech but think they were more in awe of mum and her straightforward, nonsense attitude.

Mark spied my selection of dummies and bottles. “Erm, do you use, ummm, these as well?”

I picked up one of my dummies. “This is my dum-dum, I’ve had the pleasure of using a dummy when I get stressed for as long as I can remember. It’s one of those things that you know you should get rid of but, in truth, I’m not sure I could.”

I saw both pairs of eyes trying to size me up and wondering... why?

“I can’t explain entirely but, I’ve had anxiety issues since I was a little kid. Mum always found, as did dad when he was with us, that if I sucked on a dummy I would settle down and relax.”

Really?” It was Mark who seemed to be fascinated.

“Really... and to be honest, the need to find comfort from one has never left. Even now, when stressed I can suck on my dum-dum and although the problem doesn’t go away, I feel better able to cope. Mum has said on many occasions that slipping in a dummy has both prevented anxiety attacks and quickly soothed away stress at most levels. She’s a great proponent of the use and success of a dummy.”

“But you work and...” The boys seemed incredulous at my admission.

“It’s true but even at my age I have found, and received, a great deal of comfort when sucking on my dummy.”

“WOW!” Obviously this type of support was amazing as far as the boys were concerned.  They checked out my selection of dummies with as much interest as the rest of the stuff. “Wow.” They reiterated.


Eventually, I did get around to asking them about their mum and dad.

“How’s it been at home?” I asked in a lull in the excitement. We were all sat on the floor and surrounded by quite a number of my more colourful disposables and admiring their softness, thickness and lovely plasticky feel.

They hadn’t yet seen in my wardrobe the pile of fabric nappies or the onesies and PJs that hung there. Perhaps I’d save them for another day.

Meanwhile, I was hoping that I wasn’t about to bring the mood down but it appeared to me that something, and I wasn’t sure what, had changed in their home life.

“Actually, they don’t seem as ‘angry?’...” this was said as if Mark was asking Billy a question about their parent’s temperament.

“Yes, we’re still subject to wearing nappies but now we do, they both seem settled on the idea and we’re all a bit closer... I think?”

“What do you mean?” I asked for clarification.

“Now we wear nappies all the time they’re less strict and have time to listen to us. AND I think that stems from the fact that we’ve stopped complaining about that fact.” Billy took a moment to gain his thoughts. “We’ve accepted that this is something they think is what we need and no amount of angry exchange is going to alter that. Mum and dad have been definite on that issue – nappies are here to stay – so no point in continuing the one-sided argument because we just aren’t going to win.”

I saw Mark nodding in agreement so assumed that they thought things had changed for the better.

Billy looked across at me. “Since your visit and us being made to wear nappies... erm... I don’t know why... but... ummm... mum and dad, although still quite stern about who we see and what we do... have certainly relaxed their...”

Mark completed Billy’s sentence “frustration with us.” 

“Oddly things are looser, less regimented and mum and dad smile a lot more. They seem happier and it’s not something we’ve been used to. The atmosphere in the house feels lighter, as if all barriers have been lifted.”

“And have they?” I queried.

“I don’t suppose so but...we’ve even been out to a restaurant... as a family, which was new. Of course they make sure we are dressed correctly, and check our nappies regularly, but that doesn’t seem important now... which is weird but fantastic at the same time.”

“I still feel like I’m being treated as a little kid.” Mark checked with his brother, “In fact, we both feel they’re treating us as little kids, what with the shorts and all, but to see them happy, well, it’s just something we’ve not experienced before.”

“It’s difficult to explain but, knowing you wear nappies and you seem OK has been a strong influence and we don’t feel we’re being punished.” He shrugged as if he didn’t quite understand how they’d got to where they are. “Just look at us now...”

It was a comment that didn’t need an answer because all of us were in the same boat, wearing nappies and quite enjoying ourselves when, by anyone else’s standards, it shouldn’t be happening.

Mark added, “We’re double padded at night and when we went to the restaurant but, while it felt strange to be aware of what we were wearing, that awkwardness passed remarkably quickly and we had... fun.” He checked with Billy to see if he agreed. He nodded.

I could see both boys were trying to make sense of what was a huge change in circumstances for them and what it all meant, if anything. Nevertheless, the main thing was, for the moment at least, things appeared to be better.


“So you wear a nappy to work?” Mark was back on the subject of me.

“Yes, since I started I was worried that my anxiety issues might just make me have an unpleasant accident and thought it better to try prevention as a first line of defence. Wearing one, although strange in such new company, made me feel much more confident.”

“What about your workmates, do they know?”

“Well my boyfriend...” oops I’d unwittingly started telling them about Tom.

I stammered a little but Mark just said. “Does your boyfriend know... and what’s he like?”

There was no question as to whether I was gay or not it seemed to be a fact. I was surprised and wondered what the hell was going on, had I slipped into a parallel universe?

Eventually, I got my brain in gear. “You don’t seem surprised that I have a boyfriend.”

Billy shrugged, “Why shouldn’t you?”

“Well does it not surprise you to learn I’m gay?” I queried.

“Not really, we’ve always assumed you were.” I saw Mark nodding in agreement.

“What do you mean ‘you’ve always assumed’?

“I don’t know but we always thought of you as gay but it wasn’t important to us or your mates it seemed.”

“You mean everyone thinks I’m gay?” I asked incredulously.

“Don’t know but we did. Why are you so shocked?”

I didn’t have an immediate answer but my head was reeling a bit from this information.

All this was mentioned as we were all still sitting around in our nappies and wondering whether to try on a different pair.

“So, is he a guy at work? Tell us about him.” It was Mark who as usual wanted more information.

I thought the story of how Tom came to my rescue was quite romantic; all sort of Knight in Shining Armour-ish, but also perhaps a bit too much so simply told them he was indeed a work colleague.

“What’s he like?”

“Well, he’s mid-twenties, is one of the leaders in the research lab, plays rugby and looks like a hunky Greek statue.”

Billy smiled a wry smile, “Greek statue... you mean his arms have fallen off?”

“Or has a small willy,” Mark added gleefully.

Both boys fell about laughing at their own jokes and we were instantly back to being kids in nappies being silly.

I could have added something about Tom’s willy, his large and thrusting willy, but left the boys to their giggles.

Despite them making fun of my boyfriend (and a guy they’ve never met) it was great to see my two friends completely ‘normal’ after what their parents had, over the years, put them through. However, I was beginning to understand that perhaps things had changed in that family in more ways than I could imagine.

Surely, I can’t have been responsible for that as well, could I?


However, the was no denying the fact that since they put their boys back into nappies and insisted they use them things had altered. Maybe Mark’s hospitalisation might have had something to do with it but, for some reason I doubted it.

“Well good for you Jase... I’m sure he’s a really nice guy.” It was Billy with a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

Oddly my bum-hole squeezed tight when I thought about Tom and my nappy felt warm. Hell, just thinking of him, and all the other stimuli of the boys and nappies had made me spurt in front of my guests. However, they didn’t seem to have noticed and were back to exuberantly examining yet more of the collection. I felt guilty and bizarrely relieved that just thinking about Tom had that effect. God I hope our relationship gets back to as it was soon.

I wanted to move on. “OK guys are there any here you’d like to try on?”

Billy waved a thick blue disposable at me whilst Mark showed he preferred one of the more juvenile cartoon ones, but looked pretty guilty about choosing such a design. I smiled to myself. I liked the idea that Mark might have a kiddie side to his personality and I couldn’t wait to see him nicely taped in it.

“Great choice,” I said to Mark. “Very subtle,” I said to Billy, “but don’t be afraid to experiment, there are plenty to choose from.” I was feeling magnanimous and of course, this was all new for me as well. I’d never been able to share my liking of nappies like I was doing with these friends and it was quite a rush I can tell you.

I saw Billy in two minds over his choice but having said that, the disposable he’d chosen was very soft, thick, and, as I remembered, lovely and comfy to wear... with or without the benefit of plastic pants. I’d wandered happily around the house on many occasions just wearing one of those and it was always with a feeling of a lovely hug. Yes, it was a good choice.


We were three teenagers sat wearing padding in the middle of my bedroom surrounded by loads of different disposable nappies. Weird wasn’t the word but we were all enjoying the situation despite it being completely and utterly unbelievable.  However, it isn’t like we hadn’t discussed nappies before, or that the boys hadn’t had to wear them for some time. It did seem that any animosity about them as far as Billy and Mark were concerned, was a thing of the past.

It was incredible being able to sit on my padded behind with others equally clad and not have to worry, stress or even give it a second thought. It was an incredible situation – a surprise? - most definitely. Enjoyable? - without a doubt. There was a lot of innocent touchy feely that didn’t feel misplaced and I’m not sure I’d laughed so much for a long, long time. Billy and Mark had woken me up and presented a whole new experience and one I didn’t want to end.

How had the boys been able to come to terms with having to wear nappies? Had their parents somehow put a spell on them or induced a hypnotic trance? It didn’t appear so but I’m not sure what one would look like if they had. The thing was they were now completely adjusted to their nappied state and at seemed peace with it... and miraculously their parents. However, I didn’t know if that extended to everyone they knew or only me but there was no doubt about it they felt at ease around me... and me them.

However, I couldn’t help thinking the world had gone mad and it’s only since nine this morning. I looked over at the bedside clock, it was just after noon. What the hell had gone on in the last three hours... and then my mobile rang... it was Tom.

# tbc #


Part 20

“Sorry guys,” I said to my guests, “but it’s Tom and I need to take this... in private.” I engaged the call to say “Hi” but the boys got in first.

“Hello Tom,” they both shouted gleefully as I left the bedroom.

Once on the landing I closed the bedroom door and said “Hi Tom, how’re things?”

There was a moment’s hesitation. “Erm fine but... who was that?”

“Oh just a couple of friends from school I haven’t seen for a while,” I thought it was best not to tell him exactly what we were up to. “So just catching up, erm, have you any news about when you might be home?”

“Well, I’m in the office now and things look like they’ve calmed down a bit but still nothing definite.”

“Oh dear, Saturday and still working... I‘m really missing you...”

“Well you’ve got your mates there so...”

I detected a bit of resentment in his voice but pretended I didn’t. He might be just annoyed that he’s had to work away and is quite simply missing me. Still.

“Yes, but they’re no substitute for you... they’re still at school and I miss my hot, demanding rugby player.”

I was hoping it sounded coy and sexy but his tone didn’t change.

“And what about Barnsy thinking you’re weird?”

A cold chill ran through my body because I wondered if this might lead to him knowing about Terry. However, as I thought the incident with Barnsy was funny I relayed what had happened as jokily as possible. I told him I was convinced that after he’d told me he wasn’t coming home that, with the knock on the door, and the timing,  it was him playing a joke on me and so I quickly stripped and launched myself at what I thought was his return.

“So Barnsy’s seen you naked?”

I sheepishly admitted that was the case. “Yes,’fraid so... in all my excited glory.”

“Bloody hell...” He didn’t say any more on the subject but there was a long silence before he spoke again. I wasn’t sure why this was such a big deal but the time he was taking to speak meant his was working things out.

Weird or what? Don’t s’pose he’ll forget that encounter any time soon, ha-ha?” I joked but could tell he was mulling things over.

I wasn’t getting the feeling he thought it as amusing as I hoped I’d made it sound and that he had some serious reservations about my behaviour.

“Look, when I get back we need to have a chat about certain things...” He sounded serious but by now I was wondering just what was he concerned about? I’d told him what happened, it was silly but innocent enough so why the... oh... what if he didn’t think it was innocent and that I’d actually thrown myself at his friend. What if he already knew about Terry and this was just another...? Oh hell... what does he know? I need to know what he knows.

“Oh yer... a chat about what exactly?” I cheekily enquired.

“Just us.” He sounded slightly dismissive.

Mmmm, I don’t like the sound of that particularly, so why not let’s have that chat now.”

This was completely unlike my usual way with Tom. In fact, I never call people out or get confrontational but there was something about his tone. Not only that but so far I’d been having the most incredible start to the day full of disposables, nappies, plastic pants and above all, laughter. He was putting a dampener on what was a wonderful surprise and something I didn’t want to stop because of him or his attitude.

This conversation was rapidly deteriorating to silences and I wasn’t sure if it was because of him or me?

“I don’t want to chat now,” he said that as if he was mimicking a childish response, was he mimicking me?

It took me a couple of moments to decide that’s exactly what he was doing and I didn’t like it. I could feel my anxiety levels rising and also felt the first splash of pee into the front of my lovely purple undies.

I felt I had to do something and not let him take the lead.

Throughout our short but very nice relationship I’d always let him take command. Partly because I had no idea what I was doing and needed to be lead, the other reason was it isn’t in my nature to be in control. I left that to anyone and everyone else. But there had been something about the way he was speaking and hesitating now that annoyed me so...

“Well Tom, lovely speaking to you but I have friends here and if you don’t want to chat now,” I used the same intonation back at him, “I’ll return to them and we can continue our early morning orgy of chatting.”

There was a moment of silence that followed and I thought perhaps, to stop me from making it worse or sounding petty, I’d better end this call pretty promptly.

I stood on the landing still holding my phone and wondering what I’d just done. However, I was really quite angry with him and, although he might have had an excuse to have that attitude, he was acting like an arsehole. My own arsehole tweaked at the thought, which in retrospect was perhaps a strange response.

Then I began to think that perhaps Terry had got back to him. Maybe rather than him having known his mate would make a move, he’d been told how receptive I was to the big man’s cock. This was the problem with only knowing half the situation. I began to feel guilty and that it was entirely my fault and then of course my bladder decided to give up holding back the flood. I was just inches away from the bathroom door but couldn’t stop the quick flush that filled the front of my lovely padding.

I looked at the blank screen on my phone and wished he’d call back, he didn’t but the warm sogginess was some sort of compensation.


I returned to the bedroom and it was like I’d been transported back to my first day at nursery. The boy’s had shucked off their own protection and were parading around in their choice of disposable. The joy on their faces was undeniable and they both looked like four year olds having the best time ever. I looked on in admiration, the lads had come so far in their appreciation for nappies but this looked like they’d never had a problem in the first place. They were patting each other’s wadding and laughing and holding up different plastic pants trying to decide which would go better with which.

Mark had slipped one of my dummies between his lips and the bliss that seemed to be emanating from him was incredible. This was really quite amazing; for as long as I’d known both lads Mark had always been the more reticent to ‘let go’. He was always scared of what his parents might do or say and was very much led by his older brother. Who in turn made sure he looked out for him as much as any brother could? To see the youngest of our group independently having fun was quite the revelation and I was so pleased, as I’ve mentioned before, to witness this ‘new’ version of him.

It was great to just stand there and look on but then I had a thought; is this how mum sees me when I wear all this childish padding... a little kid? That’s what I thought of my guests, and I wondered if they thought the same of me? The question was did I mind being a little kid? It was strange how such thoughts flitted into my head but then seeing the boys having such fun, flitted straight out again. I don’t know what my brief conversation with Tom had thrown up but I was suddenly questioning certain aspects of my life. With him I was grown up (although never particularly felt that way) but what we did was grown up but, what I was doing now was just plain fun. Childish? Maybe? But definitely the most enjoyable time (and that included sex with either Tom or Terry) that I’d ever had.

Mum has always supported me in whatever I’ve done or the decisions I’ve made but it was her who introduced me to this more colourful and juvenile brand of nappies. In fact, she had also introduced me to Durable Slips, which were more robust disposables and once I’d got used to them moved to these others. She’d often told me that dad had approved of me using a dummy and recommended its use when anxiety took over. There had never been a point when I was told to leave such things behind and so I haven’t. Of course, I wondered at the start if I should embrace the childishness, but then having felt the softness and general fluffiness of all the new boxes of stuff mum had bought online, there was an overwhelming urge just to slip into them all.

There was no denying that since I’d started wearing these juvenile items I’d embraced that side of my personality and found I loved it. Had that same feeling now reached Billy and Mark?

Meanwhile, I went to the kitchen to get some drinks. I was tempted to fill bottles but instead grabbed a few cans from the fridge and took them back upstairs.

My friends were having a great time and I stopped watching, and, after the unpleasantness with Tom, launched myself into having as much fun as they were. They noticed I was wet and volunteered to choose a fresh nappy and change me... seeing as they change each other all the time. This was something new and exciting and I didn’t want to miss out on where it might lead. However, I was more interested in us getting back to being silly kids for a bit, I suppose to take my mind off Tom, and it wasn’t long before we were back immersed up to our ears in nappies, childish banter and a noisy discussion on our favourite toys and stuffies.

The cans were appreciated and swiftly consumed and I’m sure anyone looking on would have been horrified that a group of teenagers were sitting wrapped only in disposables, whilst making up silly stories around the various designs.

We did a sort of critique of all the patterns; cuteness, thickness, sturdiness, fluffiness... wearability. Then we played at where exactly we’d dress in such items; opera, cinema, football, high-tea, visiting the Queen, mopping out the basement, delivering the post, on the moon. Yes, it got sillier and sillier until we all ended back at our first nursery.

It was good to hear the lad’s happy memories of those times and, as we sat around looking like we did, appeared to be recreating those early childhood days pretty well.


A little while later Mark remembered I’d agreed to let them do the change and was keen to gather all the lotions and powder needed, whilst Billy decided to choose the perfect nappy. I’d like to say I was reluctantly laid out on my changing mat but that would have been a lie.

“OK Jase, don’t do or say a thing leave it to us to sort you out,” Billy was still rummaging through a selection of nappies to find his final choice. Meanwhile, Mark had removed his dummy and offered it to me. He gently pressed it against my lips and I let it slip in with no resistance.

It felt really sensual accepting the pre-lubed latex nipple between my lips but he’d offered it with such sincerity it would have been impossible for me to refuse.

“Now, no tantrums,” Mark joked, “no kicking, no tears and no screaming... your daddies are going to make you all nice and dry.”

“Daddies?” I thought to myself.

Well, this was a turn up for the book. I can’t say that I hadn’t had this dream on a couple of occasions but I had to pinch myself to make sure that was still not the case... but ‘daddies’?

I pinched.

No, definitely alive and awake... I hadn’t gone to heaven and this was my reward for being a nice guy.

Actually, had I been a nice guy?


Mum had obviously changed my soaked nappies, even Tom had changed me but this was the first time my school mates had done the deed and I was both excited and nervous at the prospect. Billy was in charge and Mark his assistant but I couldn’t get over how they’d so easily slipped into ‘daddy’ mode. Where the hell had that come from? I knew they changed each other’s messy and wet nappies but had they come to some agreement that made it more acceptable than just brothers doing it. Was ‘daddy’ a way of coping? Personally, I’d loved the idea of brothers taking care of each other but, well, who knew what had gone on in that household?

There was a few moments of silence, which was strange after all the animated noise there had been in my room, but it was as if they wanted an atmosphere of calm. In the silence I began to wonder what would happen between the boys because I was approaching nineteen and Billy was just a year younger than me so would soon reach the age of majority. Would things change when officially hit eighteen and was able to be an independent person?

In fact, I wondered if age had any meaning in their household. Maybe being eighteen just meant a number and one that wasn’t relevant to Mr and Mrs Edwards. They’d now decided their boys should wear nappies so being seventeen and wearing them probably meant that being eighteen would make no difference what so ever.

His birthday was just a few of days before mine, which was in three weeks’ time. I wondered if I’d feel any more grown up and would Billy’s parents let him grow up at all.

However, although an important notion to think about, Billy’s voice was soothing and I guess was practiced at making sure his younger brother was able to relax when in a stressful situation.

I tried to relax but my anticipation was mounting and no sooner had Billy touched my plastic pants and started to remove them, I felt that usual surge of ‘excitement’ fill the front of my already soaked nappy. Thank God the squeal of delight was partly shielded by the dummy.

“You OK?” he whispered as both boys looked on. Then he turned to Mark. “I think you need to get a warm cloth from the bathroom... I think our little boy is going to need a thorough clean up.”

Mark immediately went off to the bathroom and minutes later returned with a small bowl of warm water and a washcloth and set it down beside his brother.

By this time my plastic pants had gradually been removed and I could feel his fingers gripping onto the purple tabs.

“Relax Jase, we’ve got this,” his soothing tones were getting to me and I wondered if this was how he and his brother were able to change each other without any embarrassment.

“Now, I’m going to peel this away,” he pressed on the front of my soggy disposable, “and I don’t want you to feel uneasy.”

I could feel the damp stickiness against my skin but tried to relax.

I closed my eyes as he slowly (and I have to say – erotically) released me from my warm and cosy padding. There was a slight change of temperature when completely revealed and I didn’t dare open my eyes to see their reaction to the cummy mess I’d so recently deposited in it.

“Oh good, you’re hairless like us. Mum and dad insisted we keep that area ‘clean and clear’ so as not to encourage disease and such like.” I could feel gentle fingers just scrape past my cock, which I was desperate to keep as little as possible.

“Washcloth please,” Billy demanded from his brother and immediately my privates were engulfed in a warm damp piece of fabric, which he slowly smoothed around and wiped away any remains of my ‘excitement’.

Although in my head this was nearing a wonderful sex-act Billy didn’t linger, he was all about getting the job done... but done right.

He asked me to lift and removed the purple nappy and then rubbed in Vaseline into all vulnerable parts before dousing in a cloud of lavender scented talc.

“Oh, that smells nice,” Mark commented.

Meanwhile I opened my eyes just a little; I was still sucking on the dummy but saw Mark flapping out the disposable Billy had decided on. It was the most childish (and thickest) of my collection. The layers of material fluffed out to create a very soft ride when wrapped around your groin and the thickness between the legs was a wonderful reminder of what it feels like to be cuddled. The all-over print was of baby rabbits, dressed in shorts and nappies, and to be honest I was excited that Billy had thought to put me in this particular design. It was one that I loved but because I only had a couple of them, I tried not to use them except on a special occasion. He was right; this was a very special occasion.

Yes I know, this sounds like I’m living a fantasy and I can’t pretend it wasn’t feeling that way as well but, and this is crucial, Billy and Mark just didn’t seem invested in anything other than getting me changed and into their preferred choice of undies. Whether this was as far as their sexuality went I can’t say. Maybe, being direct and perfunctory was how they were with each other to take any sexual context away from the deed. Nonetheless, at no point did what they were doing seem more than making sure I got a thorough, though gentle, clean-up and change of disposable.

“Lift please Jase,” was whispered as the recently plumped-up new disposable was pushed under my bum. More powder was sprinkled onto the seat of the nappy and then he pulled at the tapes and made sure I was tightly but comfortably fastened in. The soft fabric tickled my waist and thighs and, as he patted the soft bulk of the seat, finished by asking if a pair of clear plastic pants would be OK. I think he’d already decided on them so that I (and possibly they) could enjoy just looking at the juvenile, but cute, design as I wandered about.

I raised myself up on my elbows and looked at the fantastic job they’d done. I told them so and thanked them for what had been an incredible experience - far better than when Tom had changed me but perhaps that was for other reasons. Both lads appeared happy with their work and helped me to my feet.

“Well thanks guys... for everything.” I said as the fresh disposable did what it did best, and gave me a soft, feathery hug in all the right places.

I was about to say more but Mark interrupted me.

“Jase, it’s us that should thank you. If it wasn’t for you, and whatever conversation you had with our parents, we’d still be full of resentment and life would be a lot worse.” He checked with his brother, who nodded, before he continued. “As it is, we may prefer to be wearing briefs but we’ve grown to accept that our parents want us in nappies and that’s not going to change.” He grimaced slightly but he was now in full flow. “Because you can live with them, and find a positive in wearing them, you’ve shown we should be able to do so as well. So, that’s what we’ve tried to do. I can’t tell you just how grateful we are and this past few hours have only made us realise that we can have fun... no matter what we’re made to wear... so, thanks.”

This was perhaps the longest speech I’d ever heard Mark make and, as both nodded, assumed it was a shared opinion. I felt honoured.


Of course, once again I was lost for words because I didn’t really want to take credit for the situation the boys were in, even if I was responsible in some way. The fact that they’d come to this conclusion I thought was quite adult but in fact was probably the opposite. They’ve had to accept nappies as a main part of their lives and even I’m aware, despite my own proclivities, it wasn’t right. However, I’m just so pleased with the way the day had gone... I’d all but forgotten about Tom until the phone rang again. I was convinced it was Tom ringing to apologise but it was mum, she was on her way home and said she had tons tell me.

I let the boys know that she’d be with us soon and that unfortunately we’d have to bring this wonderful entertainment to a close. However, I wanted them to wear what they had on and take another item for future ‘pleasure’ and I’d see them later. Maybe, if their parents saw the new disposables it might, just on the rare chance, get them to offer the boys an alternative to wearing just their usual terry cloth nappies.

They thought it unlikely but were willing to give it a go.

We took our time redressing and I gave them a plastic carrier bag for their own nappies as they decided to wear their choice home, which pleased me no end. They slipped back into their shorts, as did I, and there was no doubt the new padding was very evident but they didn’t seem to care. Now they were back wearing the smart matching Edward’s ‘uniform’ and with their short hair they looked like Year 8s, so I suppose I did as well.

We refolded all the disposables but now some had been fluffed out it was impossible to get them all back in the drawers where they’d come from. In the end I found the box they came in and stuffed some back in there. Once that was done the boys looked a bit deflated but were still full of thanks and appeared grateful for what we’d just done together. The hug each gave me as they left was wonderful and heartfelt and I was quite overcome by what appeared to be the affection they had for me. I was quite made up.

I sat around waiting for mum but it had to be said that I’d never had a morning like the one I’d just experienced. Tom and Terry had both taken me on a sexual adventure but Billy and Mark, perhaps quite innocent of the situation, had just made me glad to have the heart of a little kid still in me. I’d loved every minute of it and so did they. Maybe next time we meet we can arrange something for Billy’s eighteenth... if his parents let him.


I was sitting on the sofa with a hot cup of tea when three hours after they’d left mum arrived home and looked fantastic. I’d half expected her to return sooner but looking haggard after spending all her time lifting and moving Granny around but, she looked brilliant. She also said that I was blooming but then clocked the nice kiddie nappy and see thru plastic pants down the leg of my shorts.

“I love to see my boy happy.” She could tell from the contented grin I greeted her with and of course she was correct, since she’d gotten me these colourful nappies I’d never been happier with my protection.

“Welcome home mum, I’ve really, really missed you,” and went in for a welcoming hug.

She squeezed me back and softly patted my padded bottom.

“I’ve missed you as well.” She continued to softly rub my bum, “and I’ve missed this more than I ever thought possible.”

Whether she meant our hugs or my padding I wasn’t too sure but it was all very nice.

There was just a bunch of contented sighs as we both appreciated the reassuring physical contact. It was wonderful to be in mum’s loving embrace so held on for as long as I could just glad she was home. Mum tightly hugged back and kissed me gently on the cheek.

“Today you sounded happy on the phone but on previous calls you’ve sounded a bit down in the dumps...”

Mmmm, well, it’s been a good morning, Billy and Mark came round and it was great to see them again.”

“Haven’t they been in touch then?” She queried.

“Actually, it was more me avoiding them after the last time, and their mum and all...” I let my reasoning peter out.

Mum just rocked me in her embrace and it was like being a little kid again. I loved it.

“Well sweetheart, I think those boys look up to you and rely on you bringing a bit of sanity into their lives.”

I wasn’t sure if mum was just being thoughtful but, if she only knew what had been taking place in her house just a couple of hours ago, she would have seen for herself how much they thought of me - the soft thick padding I had on was down to them.

Mmmm,” I nuzzled in closer. Although I’d enjoyed the hug from the boys, really there was nothing quite like snuggling up to mum. Safe, whilst being lovingly caressed, it doesn’t get better than that.

She stroked my hair and smoothed her palm over my padded bum. I felt a couple of fingers ease their way up past the plastic pants and check I was dry, then she stroked my naked thigh and said that we had some very important things to discuss about Granny, aunty... and us.

Oh hell, I thought, had Granny talked mum into us going to live with her after all?

Without even thinking my anxiety level just jumped up so whatever my bladder had left decided it was time to christen my lovely soft nappy. So as mum petted me, I was filling the many-layered absorbent front, whilst still hugging her close.

“There, there,” she said no doubt noticing, “my sweet baby boy needs his mummy... maybe even his aunty and Granny.”

Had she actually said that or, being so cosy and relaxed in her warm embrace, had I imagined it?

# tbc #


Part 21

Granny was in her late seventies but had not been in the best of health for a couple of years. Both her daughters were now in their forties but Aunty Jane had never married and been looking after her since the illness started. Like mum aunty was tough but the last few weeks, before mum went to help out, had put a strain on her and her mother’s relationship that thankfully mum was able to de-stress. I think it helped that they both had someone else to connect with so for the past couple of weeks mum was there, they were able to come up with new plans for the future.

Apparently, Granny wanted us all to live together in her big house because there was room for everyone. She also added that she wasn’t seeing me half as much as she would have liked, and at her age (she laboured the point to mum) she wasn’t getting any younger and opportunities to spoil her only Grandson were diminishing. Apparently, it was at this point that she revealed the fact that she was sitting on a fortune. Not only was the old house worth several hundred thousand, her assets (which we were unaware of) reached into the millions. Not that she was miser-like in any way but we just didn’t know how rich she was. Money had never been a problem so was never talked about. And now, she wanted us to share in her wealth but to do so we needed to all be together. That was her wish.

Of course Granny was not above a bit of emotional blackmail and mum said she laid it on thick but, as she was already feeling a bit guilty about the lack of visits and daughterly care she could have offered, succumbed to those familial pleas.

Despite that, mum had put up all the arguments for me; I work, I’m independent, I had friends here and, although I loved Granny and aunty, I wasn’t sure I felt the need to be with them all the time. However, I could see that mum was feeling guilt-ridden about leaving her sister to cope with their mother all the time, and also, thinking ahead, made the point I would be in line for a huge pay out when Granny eventually passed over.

“The amount love,” mum was speaking softly and trying to convince me of the plus to all this, “is that you’d be set for life and could do what you wanted.”

But mum, I do what I want now, and...” despite the lure of money I’m not fixated on it like some. However, even I could hear the whine in my voice like a little kid who wasn’t getting his own way and stopped my argument.

“Mum, has the decision already been made?” I was worried that was the case, which would be par for the course. Mum didn’t say anything but whispered that it was all going to be OK though didn’t say “yes” or “no”. She still held me tightly in her arms but as there was a lull in her argument wanted to deflect that line of debate for a while.



Mum ordered a delivery as neither of us could be bothered cooking and we happily chomped through a huge 14” tuna and vegetable pizza, with a side order of a litre of Coke and ice cream brownies. That kept us quiet for a while but we were both starving so the entire thing disappeared as we sat watching a bit of a murder mystery on TV about a town in Oxfordshire that must have had the worst crime rate in the UK.

Eventually I settled back and hugged mum again but didn’t want to discuss that particular topic further so came up with another subject.

Although we’d talked about it before I asked her how she and dad got together. Incredibly she seemed pleased with the change of direction and went into more detail than I remembered her ever doing before.


Apparently, dad’s parents had died in an accident so at the age of fourteen was sent to live with his nearest relation, his father’s sister who lived across the road from Granny. Mum was just a year younger but watched this new boy settle into his new family life which, due to the circumstances, must have been quite difficult. Although his aunt and uncle welcomed him he ended up being the eldest because his cousins (brothers and sister as they became) where three boys and a girl, the eldest of which was a boy aged only ten.

Mum said there was a little resentment to begin with but dad, even then, was unlike most other boys on the estate; thoughtful and protective. He was always looking out for his new siblings and making sure they were kept safe and entertained. He’d start up games for them and was always there if one scuffed a knee or looked distressed. Mum said one day she saw him slip a dummy between one of the crying boy’s lips and was surprised to see the little lad take to it.

Later, she asked him if he was punishing his ‘brother’ for crying but he replied that he’d never do that. ‘You have to put yourself in the other person’s position and see what’s wrong from their point of view’. He knew his brother was distraught but also knew that a dummy, with a slight coating of honey, slipped between the lips, automatically got the sucking going. He told mum that ‘Once that starts all problems fade away as the soothing element of that nursing rhythm takes over and eases the mind’.

She asked where this wisdom had come from and he simply replied his dad was a very caring man and understood people better than they often understood themselves. ‘Simple solutions are often the best.’ He told a very impressed thirteen year old girl who eventually, at the age of twenty-four, married that boy.

Once married they lived with Granny for a year but a new job on the cards meant a move away. Granny apparently helped with the mortgage deposit, and just a year or so later I was on the way. Everyone was happy though Granny would have preferred us all to be together. However, he son-in-law’s new location for work meant that wasn’t an option and so we were where we were now.

“Where’s dad’s family now?” I asked suddenly aware that there was much about this tale I hadn’t heard before and was quite surprised of the detail I was now getting.

His aunt and uncle retired to a place in the north of Scotland, in fact they moved to Shetland in the end. “We still exchange Christmas cards” mum clarified. The two sons had married and moved away, whilst the daughter tragically died in childbirth. His youngest sibling, Adam was in the Royal Navy and a Captain but no one local had seen him for years. It was assumed when on leave he sees his mum and dad in Scotland but has not returned to the neighbourhood.

I had no idea I had relations so far north as I couldn’t ever remember visiting them. Mum said there was no reason why we couldn’t visit them it was just that we never did.

Of course I’d seen the cards at Christmas but didn’t realised who they were from and I’d never asked. Or maybe I had been told early on and just didn’t remember. However, I was learning a lot but mum was still thinking seriously about us going back to live with Gran.

“Your father and I loved our time living at the house with mum and Jane. She did everything she could to make us welcome but, when it wasn’t an option for your father’s work, she helped us get this place.” Mum was smiling as she remembered. “In fact, after your father died she wanted us to return and live with her then but, well, you were at school and I thought you’d had enough anxiety in your life without still more upheaval.”

Mum,” I was still being held in a cuddle and she was still patting my soggy padding, “I can’t go back... what about my job, they don’t have offices where Granny is. Also what about my friends...”

“Well a couple are going to university elsewhere... but I get your point, there are your work colleagues and of course the boys to consider” Thoughts of my wonderful morning flashed in to my head and just how fantastic both Billy and Mark had been. “However, sweetheart, your Granny isn’t well and it would mean so much if we all lived together. She really misses not being part of your life.”

I could feel her rubbing my padding and I suddenly thought about that.

“Erm mum, what about, you know, my liking of...” and indicated my bulging shorts showing the engorged disposable.

“Ohh love, do you think they don’t know about that?”

 “Er, erm, um...” I was shocked at this revelation.

“Of course they know. They’re very much in tune to how your father thought. If it’s,” she emphasised what she was saying by stroking my shiny padding, “something you want, or feel you need, then who has any say in that apart from you? Your family would... and do... support you.”

I was still considering the fact that Granny and aunty knew about my love of nappies.

“Mum, did you have to tell them?”

“Sweetheart, it’s no secret and did you think I’d keep a very special part of what makes you you from them? You are very special to us all and we all appreciate that over the years, and thanks to your father’s philosophy, a dummy and nappies are something you feel you need. We’re all happy with that whether you’re nine months, nine or nineteen years old... it’s what makes you so adorably special.”

But mum,” I whined but she just kept patting the soggy bulk of my soaked disposable.

It was getting late.

“Look love, I’m sure all this is a bit confusing so why don’t you sleep on it and tomorrow we can discuss your thoughts, mmm?”

It was Saturday night but it wasn’t that late, maybe I needed time to think about what mum has said but, I really didn’t think moving in with family was the way I wanted to go. As I kept telling myself, I had work, a life and friends here so why would I want to move?


Sunday morning, and after one of the worst nights I’ve ever had, and with not only a soaked nappy but one that contained a huge mess, I was sure that was the result of my anxieties getting the better of me. I couldn’t remember having a dream that might have been the cause of such a disaster but I couldn’t deny there was a messy nappy to contend with... and me at nearly nineteen.

Mum came in to ask what I wanted for breakfast but immediately smelled the problem. I’d missed mum being around but hated as this was a nasty reintroduction to my problem. Thankfully, the nappy I was wearing had been one of the very thick ones and the rubber pants had been tight and secure – I was a mess yes but nothing had escaped from its soft fabric prison.

“Oh sweetheart, I should have thought about how anxious you get, I’m sorry.” She set about the usual opening windows and searching in the drawers for suitable replacements. “OK, why don’t you go and clean yourself up whilst I get things ready here?”

I didn’t want to move. Not only that but felt I’d let her down in some way – she thinking I was adult enough to consider about what had been suggested. Instead, all I’d come up with was a childishly messy nappy and I was on the verge of tears. It wasn’t just disgust with myself but generally feeling I’d failed to be a ‘proper’ grown up. I needed my nappies more than I thought and I saw mum deciding that once out of the shower, she’d make sure I was suitably protected.

“Mum, I’m sorry.” I whined.

“Don’t worry love, that’s what the nappies are for and whilst you still need them...”

She didn’t say any more, just got me up and led me waddling to the bathroom.

“Now sweetheart, take your time but be thorough and I’ll have things ready when you come back.” She smiled encouragement but still couldn’t help a slight tap on my billowing bottom as I passed.

I locked the door but still heard an audible sigh as she returned to my room to sort out what I’d be wearing for the rest of the day.


I removed the messy fabric and tried my best to scrape as much of the crap off and into the toilet; it was going to take a phenomenal soak to ever get that clean. I sat there on the toilet seat and contemplated what had happened over night because I’d been tossing and turning. One minute I was thinking about having to move to Granny’s place, the next about Tom and his need to ‘chat’. Then it would switch to the fun Terry and I had, which would morph into Billy, Mark and me behaving like toddlers and playing about in our huge fluffy disposables. It was then I remembered that at one point, I’d asked Billy in my dream if he liked messing his nappy. He looked horror-struck at the idea but, at the same time, I’d forced one out to show I had no trouble with it. The thing is, I hate to mess my nappy so why I was trying to coax Billy into doing it in front of me I had no idea. However, that was when I must have filled mine but I had no idea of the time scale. I may have been lying around in it for most of the night. Uuurrrggg!

As I showered I was thorough and remembered, like I was still a kid, how mum used to tell me where to be especially methodical. Of course, when I’d finished and returned to my room mum was there with an array of lotions, powders and ample protection. I wasn’t going to argue even though I thought about it. I’d missed mum and she was just doing what mums do.

“OK sweetheart, I think you need a bit of mum’s attention so just relax and let me get on with it.”

Immediately Billy’s words came back to me as I let him and Mark sort out my nappy but mum was putting me in one of the double thick fabric ones. “I think we need to keep you well and truly covered for today... don’t you?

It was obvious I wasn’t going to get a say in it so I just nodded and let her get on with it. She’d even got me a shirt and shorts ready to go over the thick plastic bulk that I ended up wearing as my Sunday best.


All day mum was very attentive. She made all the meals and occasionally checked down the back of my shorts that I hadn’t had an accident and although I was a bit annoyed about it, I still let her continue.

“Look love,” she said at one point, “I’ve neglected you recently and I’m not sure, despite you saying all was OK, that you’ve coped particularly well.”

It was true I hadn’t eaten much but I had been busy in other areas and of course my mind had been elsewhere working on the new project for the company. There wasn’t a great deal I could tell her about that so we settled into a day of reading and watching TV. At one point we had a rare game of Scrabble but decided that with just two playing it was boring so that soon came to an end. I assumed she didn’t want to bring up our move again in case it stressed me more so it was a fairly quiet Sunday.

Again, by 9pm I was dozing in front of the TV so mum suggested an early night. I hoped I didn’t have one as bad as the previous night but mum checked I was dry and everything was tucked in behind the thick rubber pants before I toddled off to bed. Thankfully, a warm cup of Horlicks before we went to bed had relaxed me enough for me to slip under the covers and fall asleep fairly quickly.

I woke up to nothing more than a moderately soaked nappy... so relief all round as I had a quick breakfast and then got ready for work. When I went back upstairs to my room mum had already got my workwear ready but also made sure I didn’t forget some robust padding.

“We don’t want any accidents at work now do we?”

I don’t know why she suddenly thinks I’m incapable of sorting myself out but, in truth, I liked being made a fuss of.



As I walked down the corridor to the lab I noticed a very ashen looking Tom coming out of the HR office. So he came back yesterday but didn’t tell me so gather I was still in his bad books. I was even more sure of that fact when he gave me a withering look as he walked past but didn’t smile of say “Hi”.

Oh hell I thought, I bet Terry’s told him what happened and... well... I didn’t want to think of that conversation.

Just as I was about to follow him into the lab Mrs Garfield caught my attention looking perturbed as she beckoned me over.

“Ah Jason, can you come into my office please?” There was no encouraging smile so I was immediately on my guard. I wondered if Tom and I had broken some company rule or something but any how I had a bad feeling about this.

Once I was sat down the head of HR looked decidedly uncomfortable but after clearing her throat a couple of time jumped straight in.

“Sorry Jason but I’m going to have to ask you a few questions, which will appear a bit insensitive but if you refuse to answer might prove problematic.”

OK I felt that first spurt of pee being absorbed by my padding and that was just the opening line.

“First off, do you wear nappies?”

That second spurt of pee was warming my cock and ball pretty thoroughly but I saw no reason to lie.

“Erm, actually, because I get anxious I do wear protection to the office.”

“Do you wear ones with cartoon characters over them... erm...?”

She looked away for a second obviously wondering how she was going to deal with my answer but again I saw no reason to lie.

“Sometimes,” I thought that was a good enough answer. “Why do you need to know?”

“Well Jason, I’m afraid that Mister Tridwell has launched a Vexatious Dismissal counter claim to his sacking... and claims that both you and Tom Tynan had conspired to have him fired because he rebuffed your advances.”

“What the...?” I stopped myself from swearing but couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “But he was the problem not me and I have proof about what he said and did to me from... Tom.”

Then I remembered the sullen and angry looking face I’d seen leave this very office earlier. What the hell had happened?


“So,” I tried to get my heads around what was Mrs Garfield was telling me, “just what the hell is vexatious dismissal?”

“Well, in a written statement that has been sent to us by the legal department, he claims that you pursued him and wanted him to be your ‘friend’ and despite many refusals, you continued your campaign hoping for him to capitulate.”

“But that’s just nonsense; I just tried to ignore him as much as possible...”

“Yes he mentioned that you tried in public to show your contempt for him but in fact you were completely infatuated by him. Even on one occasion in the men’s toilet, tossing a soaked nappy under his cubicle and asking if, and I quote “Daddy would like to change his little boy?”

“But that’s not what happened.”

“He’s given a description of the nappy and it sounds very much like the one you’ve just told me you wear... how would he know if he hadn’t seen it?”

“Yes he saw it and tried to blackmail me into doing his spying because he knew I wore one.”

“So his story is correct, a nappy appeared under the toilet partition and he was in that other toilet.”

“Yes but, erm, I didn’t know anyone was in there and it just accidentally got kicked as I was manoeuvring myself into another position to change.”

“OK, if that’s your story.”

“It’s not my story it’s what happened,” I tried to sound matter-of-fact and confident. Alas, my bladder was uncontrollably filling the rest of my comforting and thick disposable but I was mightily glad to be wearing thick rubber pants.

“Look Tom has just admitted to me that you and he are, erm, in a relationship and it is Mr Tridwell’s assertion that because My Tynan had a strange fixation with the youngest member of staff, that both you and him colluded to come up with a tissue of lies to get him fired. Not only that but claims that although your work was good he found you a little too childish to be working in an adult setting, nonetheless, was hopeful being in this environment you might mature.” There was an awful lot going on here but I just sat dumbfounded, I couldn’t believe the lies this man had been spinning. “When he mentioned his concerns to you he says you claimed to want an older person to take you under their wing. When you wanted more than advice from Mr Tridwell, again he asserts, you didn’t take rejection well and came up with this total fabrication.”

“Well that’s a lie.”

“So you and Tom Tynan are not in a relationship?”

“Erm, well, ummmm, we might be...” I could see from the way the head of HR was now looking at me that there was some doubt about the initial complaint against Tridwell and now I was being suspected of getting an innocent man fired.

She looked at me in silence for a few moments. I could tell her opinion of me had changed and I could really look at her. It was all a pack of lies.

“But he attacked me.” I tried one last time for her to take my side.

“He mentioned that and said he let a moments anger burst through him because you simply wouldn’t take no for an answer, and deeply regretted that moment when he simply lost control of the situation. He said he tried to apologise but had himself been threatened by your boyfriend...”

“But he wasn’t my boyfriend then.”

“Oh really, so how long after this did you two get together?”

I could feel my explanation was simply slipping away because I didn’t know what Tom had said and Tridwell’s account, although all lies, did make a good case.

“So,” I filled in the silence, “what now?”

“Well, the company definitely doesn’t want to see a court case... the publicity would be horrendous. However, Mr Tridwell has insisted that if he doesn’t hear something to his satisfaction, and his complete reinstatement and a clean record, he’s quite prepared to take it further.”

“Well what does that mean?”

“Look, all we can gather is he’s seriously accusing you and Tom of conspiring together to get him sacked.”

“But none of that’s true... he can’t just make stuff up and expect to be believed... can he?”

“I guess he plans to drag you, Tom and the company through the courts where his barrister can cross-examine you both about your relationship and your predilection for wearing nappies.”

“Oh fu...”

“Yes, oh fuck indeed,” Mrs Garfield concluded.


As I waddled from HR my padding was completely soaked. I still had my backpack and wondered if I should attend to that first or try and find Tom and see what his thoughts on all this were.

Certainly, the expanded nappy needed urgent attention so I found myself in exactly the same cubicle where I had been accused of soliciting Tridwell. However, my need for a fresh nappy was paramount and so I checked first there was no one else in any of the other stalls and having satisfied this was the case stripped out of my sopping wet cartoon disposable. It wasn’t exactly like the one Tridwell had described but not far off. The pleasure I took when mum put me in it this morning was now fading and if I had one I’d have used a plane Durable Slip. Alas, all I had were my collection of cheerful characters so they’d have to do. It was a shame because normally they cheer me up if I’m feeling stressed. On this occasion, they didn’t lift my spirits even if they were doing a good job of keeping me nicely dry.

Mrs Garfield had suggested I might want to take some time off and think about the situation but first I needed to talk to Tom. I found him in a meeting with the professor but hung around until he was free. The prof asked if I needed anything but I told him the HR needed to speak with Tom. I lied because I couldn’t think of another way of getting to him before I left for the day.

I could see the look of resentment on his face as Tom was excused by Professor Rashaan.

“What do you want?” He asked abruptly.

“Well first do you know what the hell is going on?” I tried to reason.

“Yes, Tridwell is finding a way of making our ‘relationship’, he said the word with a touch of vindictiveness I couldn’t understand, “seem that I’m a predator on young kids and you’re a conniving little slag... because he accuses you of throwing yourself at him.”

“But that didn’t happen... you know it didn’t happen.” I pleaded.

“Really, so Terry was just a faze was he... and exposing yourself to Barnsy just an accident...?

“But, but...” I was lost for words.

“Terry told me about his session with you and I have to say I didn’t believe it... until I was dragged into HR and told what that madman Tridwell is accusing you of.” I felt tears forming but he was taking no notice. “You’ve taken me for a fool Jase and I don’t like it.”

The tears fell. How could I make him realise that none of this was my fault... and yet, despite Tridwell’s lies I somehow knew I had this coming.

“If he doesn’t get his own way he sounds like he’s planning on ruining both our careers and I’m not sure where we’d stand with regards to receiving company backing. They’re running scared and Mrs Garfield has already given a nod that they are prepared to take him back as if nothing happened.”


“Yes but that would depend on us, whether we feel we can defend ourselves and to be honest I need this job, no, I love this job and I don’t want to jeopardise working here.”

He was sort of pleading his case as if the decision was mine. I apparently held the power of what happens next in my hands.

“You really need to think about your, no, our situation because either way we’re through. I can’t let you shag my friends as if I mean nothing to you. I thought we had something special but apparently not. But if Tridwell decides he has more information about us and is more than happy to expose it to everyone then I guess we’ll be pariahs for ever.”

“But we can’t let him win because it’s not true.”

“Well if you’re prepared to take him on, good luck. I don’t think I dare.” He turned to go back to his meeting. “Seriously Jason,” he sounded very serious, “I’d think carefully about just what will come out if you try and defend yourself. I can guarantee he’ll make sure it sticks.”

“Well what should I do?”

“That’s up to you but I know he won’t come back unless we’re both gone. I know I can get a transfer but not sure about you.

“What about us?”

“There is no us now... you’ve made sure of that.”

Please,” I pleaded but he just walked away.


Shortly after that conversation I was back in HR and crying as Mrs Garfield did her best to comfort me. She wasn’t quite as understanding as last time and I noticed the tissues weren’t offered like before. I wept as I tried to speak.

“What should I do?”

“Well Jason it’s up to you. If you think you’re being unfairly treated then of course there’s nothing to stop you fighting his version of events.”

“Will the firm back me?” I appealed.

“Mmm, that’s difficult Jason. The company would rather this just went away. Mr Tridwell has set out what he wants but it’s up to you to decide if you want to take him to task over his allegations. Personally, I’m not sure you’d survive the upset and I doubt the company would be best pleased... although they wouldn’t blame you if you did... but, look I can offer a solution.”

“Ohhh, what’s that?”

“You can resign.”

“But wouldn’t that say I was guilty of what that awful man is accusing me of?”

“Not necessarily. We can come up with an excuse for you deciding that the work here at Collins isn’t quite what you expected and wish to pursue other avenues and opportunities. We can offer you compensation of two months extra pay and really good references...”

She saw the tears running down my face.

“So, even though he’s telling a pack of lies... it’s me that has to go?” I sobbed at the injustice of it all.

Mrs Garfield didn’t say anything because I think the answer was obvious.

“Look, I’ve typed up this letter, all you have to do is sign it and the entire thing disappears.”

“Yes but that means I have to disappear as well.”

Again Mrs Garfield said nothing just pushed a pen towards the letter lying in front of me.

“Look Jason, there is a case that you are still on probation as you haven’t been here six months but, to keep it all quiet, and to show we understand your position...”

I wasn’t coping very well as a huge roar of anguish escaped into the room, which took Mrs  Garfield by surprise. She patted my hand but it wasn’t like before, it was timid and lacked any emotion other than she wished this meeting would come to an end.

“It would be for the best and of course nothing would follow you anywhere we’d see to that, but, there is a NDA notice and an agreement of no come back on the company.” She mentioned all this as if that was a splendid solution to this terrible situation.

Although I could tell it was all aimed at what was best for Collins UK I didn’t feel I had much choice. Especially if they decided that I was incompetent and just sacked me as I was still in my probationary period. They were offering me a way out and wanted to appear fair with their offer so I knew the decision had already been made. If I wanted to contest this I’d get very little support from anyone at the firm. Not only that but could feel my bum just about to add to the piss already warming my nappy and just wanted out of there.

I grabbed the pen and signed my name.

I heard a deep relieved sigh from the head of HR who countersigned it.

“I think you’re doing the right thing Jason. Very grown up and we’ll send things along once we’ve sorted out everything else out.”

I assumed that was getting Tridwell to agree that it had gone as he wanted and his reinstatement would be instant. I was sure there’d be quite a lot of people dreading his return but of course that was no longer a concern of mine.

“Is that it?” I queried through teary eyes. “Is that my career over?”

“Let’s just say you’re finding new opportunities shall we?”

“Well, I’ll just empty my locker and...”

“Yes, erm, security will accompany you and see you exit the building but, if you don’t mind Jason, I need your pass.”

She held out her hand as I gave it to her and out of the corner of my eye I saw Harry from security standing at the door.

“Please make sure Jason clears the building without any contact with other members of staff please Harry.”

“Righto Missus,” Harry agreed in his broad Yorkshire accent. “No stopping for a chat, eh?”

Within two minutes I’d collected my things, hadn’t been able to say good-bye to anyone and on the pavement heading for the bus stop. This was not how I expected the day to do... and my nappy was thick and heavy.

# tbc #



Part 22

It wasn’t even noon and I was standing out on the street and looking up at a company I’d been so excited about joining. Now it was a forbidding tower that I had no access to. Inside were my ex-boyfriend and a group of people I’d enjoyed working with but who I wasn’t allowed to say good-bye to, I’m sure that alone would get the chatter going. I remembered what it was like when Tridwell went and now it was going to be my turn to suffer the barbs and gossip. Tom had made it clear that I’d messed up and it was at that point I became aware of the mess sitting in the seat of my pants. God it had been a very stressful couple of hours.

Thankfully I knew I had on my thickest and tightest rubber pants (it was as if I’d unwittingly equipped myself for what was about to happen) so there was very little smell and, if I didn’t spread my legs too far apart, it would look normal as I walked. That was going to be hard to do. I also wasn’t looking forward to sitting on a bus full of people knowing I’d filled my nappy. Unfortunately I had no option but tried to find a seat well away from anyone else.

The ride home seemed to take ages and a couple of people who sat next to me stayed for only a stop or two before they found somewhere else to sit. I wish I could have whipped out my dummy and found some solace in that but I didn’t want to draw further attention to myself.

I suppose I could have taken a taxi, but that would have meant explaining the possible smell in such a confined space or I could have walked. Not with a nappy full of... well... it was too far anyway.

So, on the bus I had time to contemplate a few things. The fact I no longer had a job, and the jobbie that was squishing around in my nappy. I’d been out manoeuvred on the first thing but on the second... mmm.

The fact was I’d stopped really worrying about wetting my padding. I wore a nappy and more often than not I’d wet it and not realise I was doing so. However, a greater problem was that I appeared to be messing more as well, which I really hated. It appeared that because I wore such underwear my mind had forgotten to send any signals to my bladder so I just leaked like I did when I was asleep. I had no idea why that should be happening but I was going through disposables at a great rate. Just as well mum insisted I wore reusable fabric nappies to sleep in.

I eventually arrived home and mum was surprised to see me.

“Hello love...” then she saw my face crease up as the tears fell, “what on Earth’s happened?”

“I’ve been sacked and Tridwell’s been reinstated.”

“Oh love, surely they can’t do that?” She hugged and held me close.

“Well, they have and that’s an end to it. I’ve had to sign some forms but... that’s the end of my...” I burst in to even bigger sobs.

“Oh sweetheart,” she patted my well-filled padding. “I think we need to get you into something nicer than this.” She turned me around and guided me upstairs to the bathroom.

“OK sweetheart, it’s been a trying day so leave it to me to get you sorted eh?”

I desperately wanted mum to take charge. So, like a toddler, just stood there as she stripped me down to my unpleasant undies, released them and guided me under the shower.

She tossed the offensive disposable in the bin and then set about cleaning me up. She was of course thorough but I did enjoy it when she shampooed my hair and gently rubbed it into my scalp. She used the foam as it rolled down my body to softly sponge me clean. Once satisfied that she couldn’t get me any more sanitary wreathed me in a nice big warm towel and proceeded to dry me with vigorous rubbing and gentle pats where needed.

The tears had dried up but I felt exhausted and just wanted to get into bed and wish the whole day away. Naked I made my way to get under the sheets but mum had other ideas first. I was guided to lay out on one of my extra thick fleecy fabric nappies and waited a moment.

“Let’s get you into this nice comfy nappy but before that we need the basics.”

Of course that comprised copious amount of anti-rash cream rubbed into every crevice and vulnerable spot, followed by the sweetest rain of talc that was equally liberally distributed over those susceptible areas. If I’d been in a better place mentally I would have chuckled through it all but the sting of what happened meant I couldn’t enjoy it as much as I normally would.

However, mum’s soft ministrations and obvious devotion to my welfare were having an effect on my mood. Even the soft fabric under my bum was telling me I was home and loved and to let go of all the negativity. I took a deep breath.

“Thanks mum.”

She just smiled and nodded and, for the moment at least, there was no need for words.


It felt wonderful to be looked after by mum who was so caring and knew exactly what I needed and what needed to be done. She tightly pinned me in and then grabbed a pair of pale blue rubber pants that had a lovely glossy sheen to them, which she inched up and made sure all the material was safely inside the slippery fabric.

“Right love, I’m going to let you sleep for as long as you want,” she slipped my dum-dum between my lips, “and you just come down when you feel up to it.”

I knew that meant we were going to talk but she wasn’t putting any pressure on me and for that I was grateful. I’d only filled her in on the bottom line but I’m not sure she’s going to be happy about the rest of the tale... or indeed, what Tridwell had been planning to do. However, as far as I was concerned, I’d signed my options away and that was an end to it. To me, my venture into the world of being grown up, having a job and being responsible had fallen at the first hurdle. I was still a little kid in an adult world and had a great deal to learn.

Even though all this turmoil was going on in my head I felt absolutely knackered and just wanted to drift off. As I huddled under the covers I felt safe, comfy and loved because mum lay out next to me and gently stroked my hair. Had I been a cat I think I would have purred in contentment but as it was I slipped effortlessly into a deep and untroubled sleep.


Two hours later I woke up quite refreshed. I slipped a hand under my glossy pants and found I was dry. I lay there for a few minutes wondering if I was up to facing mum and telling her everything that happened.

Oh hell, my head was filling with all the stuff I was happy to leave behind but knew the sooner mum and I had that chat, the sooner it will be to get over it. Well, that’s what I hoped.

The firm rubber pants were holding up my fleecy nappy quite well as I toddled down to the living room where mum was sat at her laptop.

“Hi love, sleep well?” I saw her smile and nod even though I was just standing there wearing just a thick nappy and rubber pants.

“Yes thanks,” I hoped to lift the mood a little, “ordering more nappies?” I cheekily asked.

“Already done that sweetheart,” she beckoned me over. “Just looking up company law and the rights of employees...”

“Yes, about that mum... look... I don’t want to go into too much detail...” In fact, I was planning to leave everything out since she’d left for Granny’s including Tom going off to work elsewhere, my dalliance with Terry and my embarrassing meeting with Barnsy, although I suspect those were the only points that Tom would remember.

“But sweetie if you feel you’ve been unfairly dismissed...”

“I have but, I was still officially under my six months probationary period so, if they wanted, they could just have said it wasn’t working and that was that.”

“Well that’s not right...” Mum was in her investigative mode and obviously had an abundance of facts to support her case, she was like that.

“Mum please, what’s done is done and... me and Tom have split up so...”

“Oh sweetheart how awful and you seemed so excited about having a boyfriend... do you want to talk about that? Oh sorry love, is that why you’re leaving?”

“It’s a few things that have happened recently mum but the main one was that Tridwell was planning on taking legal action against the company for Vexatious Dismissal, whatever that is.”

Mum looked a little surprised at that but I continued.

“He’d come up with a story that put both Tom and me in a bad light, accusing us of conspiring together to get him fired. It’s not true of course but unfortunately it would bring a lot of other stuff to the surface that, all though completely deniable, would leave a nasty stain on both our characters.”


“Sorry mum, but, they’ve offered to pay me off and give good references - I suppose to keep any bad publicity from affecting the company. Once all the points were laid out I signed the form so... I’m gone.”

“But didn’t you have any representatives with you?”

“Mum, please just drop it. I’ve made my decision and I think it would be too painful to work there and see Tom every day... or Tridwell if it comes to that.”

I didn’t like to admit that my being gone was one of his demands before his reinstatement.

“OK love, I understand.” She closed her laptop and pulled me in for a cuddle. “Oh Jason what a terrible time you’ve had and all this whilst I’ve been away?”

“Mum you’ve had other things on your plate and to be honest, this had nothing to do with you being at Grans.”

“Maybe so but I’ve neglected my little baby and so...”

“Mum please, don’t make it any worse by me feeling guilty about you feeling guilty... I’m guilty enough for us both.”

She giggled and hugged even tighter plus of course she patted my well-padded bottom.

“OK,” she conceded, “I’m sure there’s more to the story... and no doubt you’ll tell me when you’re ready BUT, I don’t like the fact that I neglected my little boy so I need to put that right.”

“But mum.”

Ssshhhh now... mummy’s going to make us something to eat and then we’ll have a lovely relaxing night in front of the TV, OK?”

“OK, thanks mum.” She raised her eyebrows as if she was about to tell me off. So, playing along with her ‘mummy’ reference, “Sowwy, fank oo mummy.” I said with a jokey childish lisp.

“My pleasure baby boy.”

At that moment, that’s all I wanted to be.


Mum must have known from the way I was dressed to the way I was reacting that losing my job and boyfriend had set me back quite some way. I hadn’t thought twice about coming down from my afternoon nap wearing anything other than what I had on. I hadn’t searched for pants or even a t-shirt I’d just arrived in the front room exactly the way I’d been put to bed - like a toddler. As I’d wandered down stairs, the gentle rustle of plastic and the soft bulk hugging each step had been all I needed to know I was home - safe, treasured and protected.

Whilst mum was in the kitchen whipping up something incredible I curled up in front of the TV though wasn’t really watching anything of any substance just a set of cartoons that filled the screen. They kept me entertained and didn’t feel the need to search the channels for anything else.

“Are you OK sitting there without any pants sweetie?” Mum just checking I was aware in case anyone called but in truth I couldn’t have cared less if we had visitors or not. I was surrounded by my mother’s love and a soft snug nappy so that was all I needed.

Mum cooked up a very tasty ham tagliatelle in a rich creamy sauce which we sat at the table to enjoy. She’d even got out one of my sippy cups which had apple juice in it and wrapped a bib around my neck.

“Don’t want any hot sauce dripping on your chest now do we,” she’d said as she fastened it with a flourish.

As it was I didn’t spill any but was thankful for the sippy cup as I did somehow manage to knock it over. Mum must have got bibs when she ordered all the other stuff, but I was still surprised by suddenly having one secured around my neck.

After we’d washed up we curled up in each other’s arms and sat and watched some television. I couldn’t tell you what we saw because I spent most of the time with my eyes closed and the sound just seemed like a pleasant droning noise that had me slipping in and out of consciousness.


Mum was patting my bum when she woke me up and said its ‘nappy change and bed time for one sleepy little guy’. I hadn’t realised I’d soaked my lovely padding but now I was awake I became aware of the dampness.

“Up those stairs baby and I’ll be in to supervise your nappy in a moment.”

I wandered up feeling the sag and although quite sleepy thought it felt nice and squishy. I giggled to myself with each squelchy step.

Once in my bedroom I wasn’t sure if I should start without mum but of course felt I’d need to lose the nappy and clean up a little before she arrived, it wasn’t fair to leave everything to mummy...erm... mum.

Although I usually slept in fabric nappies I wondered if I could wear one of my plush, thick disposables with the unicorns all over them. When Billy and Mark had been around we’d all admired them and thought they should take pride of place when we visited the Queen... if we ever got invited to a sleepover at the palace that is.

I fished it out of the box and found a pair of lovely slinky glass-like plastic pants as cover but it would be down to mum on whether she’d allow it. She always thought fabric padding was better for a good night’s sleep.

Anyway mum arrived at my bedroom door just as I was wiping my privates down with a damp cloth.

“Oh sweetheart, you should have left all this to me. I’m not going to neglect my little boy ever again... so here... you drink this whilst I finish off getting you ready for beddy-byes.

She presented me with a baby’s bottle full of warm milk. I wasn’t expecting her to take this babying that far but as I was about to ask for my dummy, this was a nice replacement. Mum took the washcloth from me and cleaned me up and did all the other things a boy in need of a nappy needs. I pointed to the unicorn disposable and she beamed.

“Is this what my little soldier wants to sleep in tonight?” She teased fluffing it in front of my face.

“Yes please.” I said eyeing the full bottle of my nicely warm drink.

“And with these plastic pants?” She held up and gave them a tug to make sure they were tough enough.

I nodded as I lay out and let the teat slip between my lips for the first reassuring taste of my milky treat.

“Why not.” She conceded re-fluffing the disposable, “I think my baby has had a tough day so he should have a lovely night’s sleep with his little friends leaping around his little willie.” She tickled my tummy and I giggled in delight.

Before long I was oiled, powdered and taped in with the plastic pants pulled up high.

“Now sweetheart, finish your bottle and don’t worry about a thing. Mummy’s here to make sure everything is going to be all right and my baby has nothing to be anxious about.”

She was pushing this ‘baby’ thing but I was really enjoying it and loved being her little baby boy.

She kissed my forehead and wished me night-night before turning off the light and leaving me to the gentle sucking rhythm as I slowly emptied the bottle.

I lay there for a while enjoying the full padded feel of my nappy. I was thinking about what mum had said and began to imagine those little unicorns gambling around all over the soft fabric. I wriggled in contentment; I may have lost my job and a boyfriend but like Saturday morning with Billy and Mark, being wrapped in a thick nappy and thinking about such silly possibilities, I wished they were here now. However, a yawn overtook my thinking and I dropped into a dream world of no dreams... or if I had one I certainly didn’t remember it.


Come the morning and things were back to normal except it wasn’t because I didn’t have to get up for work. I was surrounded by various stuffed animals, including my old teddy bear which was in bed with me. I assumed at some point mum must have come in and removed the empty bottle and substituted the bear. I know it had been there a while because its well-worn ear was sopping with drool as I used to nurse on it when I was teething... and more as I got older. However, as normal, my nappy was soaked and I lay wondering how I was going to spend the day. Teddy looked a bit fed up but I was really pleased knowing he’d shared my bed. I rested him in the corner with a couple of other stuffies and began to remember the fun I used to have with these inanimate friends. I looked over at the clock and it was just after nine so mum had let me sleep in but I could hear movement downstairs.

I lay there for a few more moments before deciding I should get up and at least start the day even if I had no idea what to do. I couldn’t call on Billy and Mark as they’d be at school and then the idea of seeing friends and having to explain why I wasn’t at work made me think twice about going out at all.

However, mum popped her head round the door.

“Ah sweetie you’re awake. Look I’ve cooked some bacon and scrambled eggs so why not come down and we can plan our day.”

“I think I need to change...”

“Nonsense love, come down now while it’s hot and I’ll change you after.”

I think mum was beginning to like seeing me about the house wearing nothing but a nappy and I wasn’t averse to it either. So, I sat at the table and she’d cooked the streaky bacon very crispy just as I liked it. The eggs were scrambled to a ‘delightful consistency’, which is how I jokingly described them as we both tucked in. Again there was a sippy cup with orange juice in and the pile of bacon disappeared pretty quickly because I was very hungry and this was one of my favourite meals. Mum knew how to get my day off to a flying start.


A little later back in the bathroom mum released me from my damp unicorn heaven and made me shower. When finished I ambled back to my room to see all the clothes laid out for the day. It looked like we must be going somewhere because there was more than just a nappy waiting.

Mum came in, “Right sweetie, let’s get you into a nappy and then... well... I think we need to go on a little journey.”

I wasn’t sure what that meant but was a little reluctant to ask in case she said To Collins UK so I tentatively let her organise everything.

She’d decided on one of my thick blue disposables and a pair of robust blue rubber pants, a matching blue onesie which fastened between my legs and pulled the padding up high against my crotch. Then she slipped a beige polo shirt with a blue stripe around the middle over my head before adding a pair of blue linen shorts. As I looked in the mirror I wasn’t sure if mum had dressed me like this accidentally or on purpose because I looked like Billy and Mark.

“Mum,” I queried, “I look like I could be Billy and Mark’s brother.”

“Really dear, I hadn’t noticed,” but I could tell from the way she’d said that she certainly knew what she was doing. “Well I think you look very smart and so do the boys when I see them out and about so... perhaps...?”

She left it like that but there was a knowing look which I took to mean “I thought you’d be pleased with the outfit”, which of course, after the initial shock, I suppose I was.

However, things were getting weird if mum was dressing me like them and their parents made them wear nappies because of me.

The other thing I noticed was that this particular look was ‘flattering’ in another way... it made me look a good deal younger. Mum had liked the new short haircut from the beginning and had made a fuss about how cute I looked with a side parting and then a nice little quiff.  So when I got out of the shower, whilst it was still wet, she combed it into that style and kept touching it up with a quick flick of the comb. She always looked satisfied when she’d got it just the way she liked it. Although my birthday was less than three weeks away at that moment I think I could have passed quite easily for a fourteen year old, Mark’s age.

Anyway, one thing I did gather from the way I was dressed was that I doubted very much that mum would take me back to work looking like a school kid but still had no idea where we were going.

As we went out to the car mum looked pretty in a pair of black slacks and a rather fleecy half-zipped blue top and I was feeling happily snug the way I’d been dressed.

“Where are we going?” I felt able to ask as she turned on the ignition.

“We’re off to see Granny and your aunt... we’ve a few things to sort out and I think you need to be there to add your voice.”

I looked a bit anxious at this news and felt a little of the orange juice I’d had for breakfast dribble into my fresh nappy.

“Oh, erm, do we have to make a decision today?”

“Not today love, but Granny is insistent that she wants us with her and, as far as she’s concerned, the sooner the better.”

“But what about wor...” Oh yes, I don’t have work anymore so the verdict might already have been agreed. “Do I really have a say mum or are you just pretending I have?”

“Oh sweetheart, um, Granny wants you to want to be there... and preferably by your nineteenth birthday...”

“But that’s just a few days away...”

“Well, nineteen days to be exact.” Mum smiled at the symmetry of numbers. “However, I gave all the arguments to her before I left at the weekend. The thing is... yesterday I brought her more up to date on your circumstances.  She thinks that now would be a great time to start again but wants to speak to you directly so you know why she’s so keen.”

I shook my head and sighed. “She’s going to say she’s old and dying or some such crap and that she needs me around for some ridiculously bogus reason.”

“Now you don’t know that and I think you’re being a little unfair on mum. She has your best interests at heart and I’d be grateful if you listened to her without pre-judging...”

“It sounds to me that I don’t have a choice.” I grumbled, now completely unhappy with everything. However, I got the feeling that decisions had already been agreed so it was just really to convince me. At least I’d get to voice my worries... and that led to another spurt of pee. Thank heaven I was wearing one very thick and thirsty disposable.

# tbc #

Part 23

Granny’s house is quite a large affair up in the Lake District. It sits proudly on a small hill in the countryside overlooking a huge lake. The views are tremendous, fields down to the water’s edge and in the background lofty peaks and forest. Meanwhile, there’s a little winding road which feeds the few other houses in the area. Where dad used to live is about a hundred yards further along but it’s changed a lot since those days. The nearest village is about a mile down that road and another five miles takes you into the nearest town, which gets packed with tourists almost all year round.

It’s still a family home so there are plenty of rooms and I never quite understood why, after there was just her and aunty, Gran didn’t sell up and find somewhere smaller and easier to maintain. I suppose as it is the place where she and Grandad brought up their family then sentiment alone would make her want to stay, and the views of course. Maybe she foresaw the fact that we’d all be together again but I don’t know how.

I have my own room, as does mum, when we visit. The place is vast because on the ground floor is a large kitchen, two spacious reception rooms, a cloakroom with shower and toilet facilities and a huge conservatory leading out into the substantial garden. Upstairs there are two large en-suite bedrooms with balconies and views out to the lake, a family bathroom and three further large bedrooms. I have one in the back over-looking the garden. There’s an attic used for storage and a huge basement that Granddad had used as a games den. However, since he’s been long dead, it had just gathered more storage and rubbish, which was a shame because as a kid I always found it a fantastic place to play.

Anyway, as we neared the drive my anxiety levels increased but Granny was waiting with a welcoming smile in the doorway.

“My, my sweetheart,” she started as she hugged and patted my soggy bottom through my linen shorts. I think she was going to say I’d grown, or looked older or some such thing but decided against it. “I’ve missed you,” and kissed the top of my head.

“Same here Granny,” but my heart wasn’t in it.

I was still in Granny’s surprisingly strong embrace as she continued to pat my bum.

Mmm, your mother said you were still in nappies so why don’t we get you into something dry first and then we can have a lovely meal your aunt’s preparing and have a little chat, mmm?”

Reluctantly I was led inside and nothing had changed except I was surprised to see how fit and healthy Gran was. It was only a couple of weeks ago that she was badly hurt and found it impossible to get around but now, well, she could have fooled me. Perhaps that had been her plan all along; get mum there, feed her enticements and then... well... I have no idea but this was looking more and more like a scam on Gran’s part. She may be knocking on the octogenarian door but was as trim, alert as anything and appeared full of life.

Aunt Jane poked her head around the corner from the kitchen. “Hi there Jason, glad you decided to visit... we’ve missed you.” She said with her usual large welcoming smile. “Love the new haircut.”

“Oh hi aunty... yes, thanks, it’s been a while.” As she was in the middle of something she quickly disappeared back and Gran took over.

“OK love,” she spoke to mum, “why don’t you go and help your sister with lunch and I’ll sort this one out.”

But mum...” I was horrified that Granny should suggest such a thing. I didn’t want her changing my nappy but mum wandered into the kitchen where I heard sisterly greetings, whilst Gran directed me towards the stairs.


I love Granny but she hadn’t changed my nappies since I was about four and I wasn’t keen on her re-establishing that chore. She led me towards the stairs but we stopped at the old oak panelled door next to them that led to the basement.

“You know Gran, I can do it myself... I.... erm... don’t...” I stammered.

Smiling she opened the squeaky access and told me to follow her. I don’t know why she didn’t turn on the light as I sheepishly followed, taking slow and deliberate steps down each creaking stair. Eventually we got to the bottom and she pulled on a hanging piece of chord that lit up the entire space. It was like a wonderland, well, a wonderland for a big kid.

Taking up a central position was the bed with pale blue covers, surrounded by a ledge of toys, books and a variety of stuffed animals. A huge play area had an electric train set up and a large racetrack mat for toy cars dominated another area (I told you it was a large room). The lighting was rather nice as well with fairy-lights draped across the ceiling and a projector that aimed a beam of stars moving over the bed. Some of the walls had posters of old Disney movies which looked pretty good. There were a series of sliding mirrored door wardrobes and several sets of drawers, one of which had steps leading up to what appeared to be a thick changing pad. Above that were several shelves of nappies and disposables and a rack of nicely hanging plastic pants in all styles. Above them were two ground level windows looking onto the garden and next to the padded bench was a large deep sink with hot and cold taps. Off in the right hand corner was a new glass construction, which I could see was a shower unit.

“Well sweetie,” she took my hand and guided me towards the little steps, “up you get and let’s get you out of that wet nappy.”

“But, but, what is this place?” I was gobsmacked but still climbed the little steps to lie out.

“It’s where we change our wet and messy baby boy...”

“But, I’m a, ummm, but, I ermmm,” I didn’t want this to happen but there was no way I would fight Granny.

She was already pulling down my shorts and releasing the little metal press-studs on the onesie. “Now sweetheart, just relax and let Granny do what she’s failed to do for a few years now and that’s look after her sweet Grandchild.”

I was about to speak again, why Grandchild and not Grandson? but she produced a dummy from her pocket and, with very little resistance, slipped it between my lips.

“There, there now, you just nurse on that and the world will be a much better place and let me get on with changing this lovely but absolutely sodden disposable.” She saw just how wet I’d become, which in my general anxiety about the day hadn’t helped the flow at all.

She wriggled down the blue cover and released the tabs. The ledge above the mat seemed well equipped with things in easy reach as she grabbed some wipes and set to work. I lay back and stared at the ceiling which had a host of happy cartoon characters smiling back down at me - all appeared to be wearing puffy nappies.

She pushed up my onesie but the cooling wipes must have been medicated or had menthol because when she wiped my willy and balls a cool shiver ran through my body. I let out a little squeal behind the dummy.

She looked down and smiled but continued with what she had to do.

“You know sweetheart, your daddy loved this room when he and your Granddaddy used to play snooker down here. It was where they bonded and then when you came along, they both couldn’t wait for a time when you’d join them in a game.”

She seemed excited as she told me this tale, which incidentally I’d not heard before.

I looked over at where I remembered the snooker table used to be but the train set now occupied that space.

“However, your daddy noticed something about you that no one else saw... you were your own person. From an early age your daddy would not make you do anything he let you make your own decisions and guarded your freedom to live life how you wanted.”

I looked up confused.

“Your daddy was a very clever and perceptive man, completely unlike your Granddaddy, who lived by his own ideas, but no, no, no not your father. When Grandad wanted to send you off to private school and insisted that it was the best place for a proper education, your father said a definite “NO”. He didn’t want others to shape you into being a certain way; he wanted you to find what made you happy and follow that path.”

I still wasn’t getting it.

“Jason sweetheart, this is you.” She swept her hand over the basement and all that was in it. “It’s taken a while for us all to cotton on to what your father meant. Your mum was on board very early on but the rest of us, well, it’s taken some time to catch up. This is your room and I hope you want to stay and enjoy what we can offer. You’ll not lack love and attention that’s for sure. If you want friends to come and stay, well there’s enough room for a small army down here. If you want to change it somehow... it’s up to you. I just want you around because I missed appreciating just what your father meant.” There was a brief sigh as she caught her breath. “I don’t want to miss the unique person you’ve become.”

I took out my dummy and looked her in her watery eyes, “But Granny, what have I become?” I wasn’t sure she got what had happened to me over the past few of months. “I’ve lost a job, I got a man sacked, and I lost a very good friend...”

“Your boyfriend?” She smiled knowingly.

Mum seemed to have told her everything.

“Yes, but...”

“Look love. You’ve been through a lot but we’ve discussed this and come to the conclusion you simply aren’t ready yet to be a grown up... and there’s absolutely no reason for you to.”

I was about to protest my independence but Granny went to the cupboard under the sink and I saw there were two plastic bins there. She slipped the used disposable into the blue one and I wondered what the other green one was for.

“Look, you’ve had a love for nappies and dummies for as long as I can remember. Your mother says that they mean even more to you these days than ever before. In fact, she says, you wear a nappy all the time now and haven’t worn underpants for quite some time.”

“Erm...” I was trying to think which part of what Granny was saying I could deny - I couldn’t. Mum did know me way better than I knew myself and perhaps all these little ‘nudges’ had been for me to realise this was what I wanted.

In my head I was screaming “No” but the thing was there were times when it all seemed to be pretend – the job, the boyfriend, my life in general. The only time it wasn’t... was when I was wearing a nappy and mum was around or, and this was a revelation, I was in the company of Billy and Mark.

Granny saw a worrying frown take over my face.

“Sweetheart no one is having a go. What we want is for you to be happy with who you are because we’re happy with who you are. If you like being a toddler and live in what I think your mum calls ‘little space’ then that’s fine. If you want to be a nineteen year old...” she looked doubtful, “then that’s what we’ll treat you as. We just don’t want you thinking you have to be one thing when you so patently prefer something else. As your father insisted, what he wanted most from his son was for him to be himself... and that’s what we want as well... you to be who you are.


Little Space?

Those two words were buzzing around my head. What did mum mean by living in my ‘little space’? Is that what she called it when I enjoyed the more childish aspects to wearing nappies and sucking on my dum-dum? Had mum made the term up or had she, like was often the case, sat at her laptop and researched... well... me and what I liked?

I looked around what was now apparently going to be my bedroom and I have to say, I did love most aspects of it. I suppose the stacks and stacks of nappies was what mum meant when I joked about her ordering more and she replied “Already done”. Mum is an enigma in her own right but she seems to have brought Gran and her sister into our world without too much trouble.

Gran fluffed out a disposable but I wasn’t taking too much notice because my mind was re-living the absolute best time I’d had in ages – Billy, Mark and me just having fun. I wondered at the time if it wouldn’t be the best way to live my life, with two guys who were as daft as I was... or at least appeared to be. It was true the nappies were the catalyst but what if they were exactly like me? What if ‘little space’ was real and we all could meet there or was ‘little space’ a euphemism for something else... it made me think.

Meanwhile, Granny had fitted me tightly in a very nice, thick rainbow disposable with matching shiny pvc pants. She’d then refastened to clasps of my onesie so all was held up tight and then eased up my shorts.

“There baby, and I bet lunch is ready... shall we go?”

I eventually found my voice.

“Granny, you must have spent a fortune on doing this place out and I can’t thank you enough but...”

“I know love,” she sighed a little as if understanding I had objections. “You’ve got your own life at home but, as you’ve so recently discovered things change very quickly. Here you wouldn’t have that worry because there are three of us who just want to look after you.”

“But that’s what I mean. You want to look after me... I don’t get a choice... this is not what dad would have wanted at all.”

“I think you’re wrong Jason. I think your daddy knew exactly what you needed and that was to have a safe and secure environment where you could be just who you are.”

“But, but, ermmmm...”

“Look, let’s go and see what your aunt has prepared and then we can discuss it all together afterwards. But,” she smiled, “I’m glad you like your room I think it’s what you need... a safe place to play.” She picked up my dummy and slipped it back into her pocket.

As we headed for the kitchen my nappy and cover creaked slightly as we climbed the noisier stairs up from the basement. Granny had added an extra soaker pad so my walking was a bit more of a waddle but still the thick padding did feel comfortable. She certainly knew how to fit a nappy.


The two sisters were sitting at the table chatting with a huge bowl of Spaghetti Bolognese steaming in the centre. They both had excited looks on their faces as I shuffled up and took my seat.

“Well?” Mum was quickly in with her question.

I knew she was keen for me to excitedly tell her I was sold but in truth, I still had some doubts.

“Yes, it’s all very nice and cosy and... well... looks ready for a boy to have fun.”

“Good, good... do you think you could be happy here with that as your own space?” All eyes were on me but mum was asking the questions.

I think that they thought the room would be the clincher and that it was everything I wanted. Why they should have thought that I don’t know because I hadn’t been obsessed with toys and such for a long time (well, not that they knew anyway). However, what had crossed my mind was WHY?

Why had they chosen such a style and why had they been so convinced it would be something I liked? I did, but why had they thought I would?

I shrugged noncommittally and asked if I could have some food please. There was a disheartened look on everyone’s face except mine. I was comfy and was about to have one of my (many) favourite meals, which I thanked aunty for making.

“My pleasure dear...”I think she was about to add that if I lived there such meals would be a regular feature but decided against that line of persuasion.

The meal was wonderful but this time there was no sippy cup just a glass of milk. I think I would have preferred a sippy cup. Something else I noticed, I spilled some sauce down my front and I heard mum say ‘I’ll have to remember a bib next time’...


As I ate and the general chat continued around me I got to thinking again. Had Granny only pretended to be ill to get mum to visit and then kept her there to see how I’d cope on my own. I began to suspect all manner of conspiracy theories but drew the line that Granny and Mr Tridwell were in cahoots to get me sacked... although I have to admit for a moment it crossed my mind. I’d become very suspicious of what Gran said because she looked so vital. However, later in the day I did see Aunt Jane hold her up as she stumbled a little walking to the living room. I also noticed there was an oxygen bottle at the side of Gran’s chair and as the day had worn on, there was no doubt her effort had taken its toll. I felt guilty for doubting her.

It was getting late and I still hadn’t agreed to the proposed new living arrangements. However, mum said that we’d stay the night and think about it and could see what I thought of my new basement bedroom.

Just out of curiosity I trundled up to my old bedroom and noticed it had been stripped of anything to do with me and was now a sort of guest room. It seemed cold and unfriendly so I found myself in the basement and playing with the toys. I’d been so engrossed in my games and imagination I hadn’t realised the hour when mum said it was time for bed and I should come back up and say goodnight to Gran and aunty.

Gran was ready for bed and was being helped upstairs by Aunty Jane. I kissed her goodnight and thanked her for the fabulous basement because in truth, even just a few hours down there on my own had been incredible fun.

“Night Gran,” she looked at me adoringly but I could tell the day had been a bit of a strain.

“Night love” there was a soft wheeze to her breathing as the effort of going up the stairs told me all was not well with Granny after all. “Sleep tight and hope you like the bedding, there’s a lovely soft fleecy blanket I recommend cuddling up to.” She smiled and then turned to continue her assent.

“Can I help?” I offered.

“That’s sweet of you dear,” Aunt Jane said, “but for the moment leave it to me.”

Mum called me over and checked if I was wet, I was and because I’d been having such a good time in the basement hadn’t noticed, again.

She smiled and shook her head. “C’mon baby, let’s get you ready for bed... it’s going to be exciting sleeping in your new bedroom.”

There, she’d let it slip, ‘my new bedroom’. So it was a foregone conclusion, we would be living here from now on.


Though I’d enjoyed playing in the basement I felt annoyed that what I actually thought was of no concern and my input was purely for effect. That annoyance made me do something I’d rarely done before and that was have a huge temper tantrum as mum led me to the basement. I refused to go.

“Stop this now.” Mum was reacting to my refusal to be part of any further deception.

“You said I had a voice but you lied.” I screamed back at her.

“Be quiet your Granny’s trying to get to sleep and...”

“Don’t give me that,” I spat back, “you and her have conspired to bring me here when I specifically said I didn’t want to come.”

“That’s not true...” but I could see mum wavering a little in her argument. “I brought you here because this is where you belong...”

“When I was a child...” I responded angrily.

“But Jason, that’s the point, in many ways you’re still a child.” She reached out to stroke my quiff that had fallen across my eyes.

I shook her away because I couldn’t believe she just said that.

“MUM!” I said astounded by such a comment.

She went over to the changing bench and just indicated the piles of nappies.

“All these are yours,” then pointed to the toys. “You’ve not had as much fun for ages playing without any worries with things you’d all but forgotten you actually like. Sweetheart... ”

As she indicated the various things around the room that I had, and still loved to have from my childhood, I began to think about my other life - a life of boyfriends and sex so I added that to the mix.

“You forget I had a boyfriend and we had fantastic sex so I’m not a little kid I’m a grown up with...” I spat it out as if challenging her preconceived ideas.

“I’ve no doubt you threw yourself into such grown up games and enjoyed them but you’re never happier than when with your friends and playing games.”

What did mum know? Did she think that I played at sex the same as I played in nappies? I wasn’t quite getting what was being inferred, or, was I just assuming something was being implied when it wasn’t?

“Look Jason I don’t like us arguing and certainly not shouting across the room at each other. We’ve not tried to con you into anything. All I’m saying is give it a chance and no one is suggesting that you can’t have friends, boyfriends or whatever, or be nineteen.” She patted the padded bench. “But at this moment you’re wearing a soaked nappy, its bed time and you’re a bit grouchy with me.” She smiled her winning smile and in truth I hated that I’d raised my voice to the main person in my life. “Now, I understand because it’s been such a hectic day with a lot to take in that you may feel overwhelmed. So, what I suggest is, we get you into a nice thick nappy for tonight and then, in the light of a new day, see if we can’t come to some agreement, OK?”

I so wanted to stamp my authority on this outburst but really I couldn’t keep it up with mum. She is everything to me and I have only ever known her do what was best... and yet, here I was, doubting and shouting at her. I had to stop and make things right.

I wandered over to the bench, climbed up on it for the second time that day and let her get me ready for bed. As always she did the job without any resentment and I was soon cleaned up and pinned into a nice large white fluffy cotton-rich nappy with a pair of Disney plastic pants pulled over them.

“Pyjamas or do you think you’ll be OK wearing just these?” she said patting my inflated shiny bum.

“It’s pretty warm down here so I think I’ll do.”

“I can never get over just how cute you look in nappies...”

“I like them as well and these plastic pants are great.” I said running my palm over the glossy surface.

“Special fun pants for a special fun guy.” Mum teased

“I’m not mushroom mum.” I quickly retorted, which brought out the most wonderful girlish giggle from her.

She kissed my forehead and brushed the hair from my eyes.

“I know it’s been a strange day love. In fact, it’s been a horrendous start to the week for you to take in but I want you to know that me, Gran and aunty all love you. You know that right?”

I nodded.

“We want nothing but what’s best for you but we want you to be happy... so... sleep on it tonight and let’s reassess tomorrow?”

She steered me over to my new bed and pulled back the covers. I was quite amazed at just how soft and fleecy the bedding was (teddy fleece mum called it) plus a welcoming, equally soft stuffed lion was already there, not one from home but a new one who looked friendly enough. There was also a very pink fleecy blanket folded to one side I ignored that and slipped in under this set of sensual blue sheets, pillows and duvet cover that sent shivers of pleasure around my body.

As I got comfy there was a slightly different crinkle than from my plastic pants so knew there was an extra piece of protection covering the mattress. Mum tucked me in and asked if I wanted my dum-dum. Actually, it felt like I was surrounded by an army of kittens and could quite happily have done with it but was still trying not to appear babyish so shook my head no. Which was silly because under such a soft embrace I’d never felt so wonderfully babyish and looked after. Where had all this cosiness come from and was it just to make me feel special, wanted and/or childish? I still was suspicious but warming to the situation.

Once she could see I was settled it was time for her to leave me to my thoughts.

“OK love, sleep tight.” She wished me goodnight and I heard the steps creaking as she made her way back upstairs. The fairy-lights looked nice as did the projection of stars and moons that slowly circled the ceiling above the bed. I surveyed the place one last time before I thought about sleep; this was a fantastic space for a boy with imagination.

She turned at the top of the stairs and looked down on not only me getting comfy but the colourful wonderland the ladies in my life had created.

“I love you sweetheart,” she whispered.

In that moment, any animosity there had been after our argument disappeared.

“Love you too mummy,” I replied with a shy wave.

# tbc #

Part 24

Although everything was nice, the bed comfortable, the lion cuddly, there was an awful lot still going on in my head so initially I just couldn’t drop off. The fact that I’d said “mummy” instead of “mum” played on my mind. I got out of bed and hoped I might amuse myself with the electric train set.

It was strange because although I’d never had one, it was something I always wanted and this took up quite a large area. It wasn’t just in a circle but had a couple of lines that led into tunnels and through stations and villages... it was quite the display. There were two trains on the tracks, one passenger the other goods and I was lost in watching them circle around, climb slight inclines and pass each other going in opposite directions. I was driver and station master, planner and passenger and made up stories to go with everything I did. It was like I wasn’t alone chatting with all these little model people who had places to go. I was completely enthralled as I was charged with the power to make things happen.

I don’t know how long I played with it but could feel my eyes drooping so eventually brought them back into the station and imagined a conversation between the drivers before I climbed back into bed. They’d said their own ‘good nights’ and were wandering back to their own families and friends. It had been an interesting departure from trying to sleep but now, as I returned to bed I unintentionally giggled in regards to the lovely soft furriness that greeted my return; it felt unbelievably tickly and luxurious.

I was aware of the mass of my nappy which hugged me and kept me pleasantly warm throughout my crawling around. It had been fun to scuttle from one thing to another making everything work, examine various bits of scenery and check the characters dotted around the track. I didn’t think I was wet but slipped a finger under the plastic to check and was relieved to find no sogginess. For some reason I felt remarkably proud that I hadn’t wet myself and glided under the duvet and hoped I’d be able to sleep.

I think I dozed for a while but began to toss and turn a little and decided to read. I got out of bed and went to check on what reading material was available but as I opened drawers and checked shelves I noticed the plethora of stuff that had been gathered for my enjoyment. The sliding wardrobes concealed a host of onesies, PJs, and colourful jumpers, shirts and t-shirts. Hanging up were dungarees, shorts and playsuits as well as jackets, fleeces and coats. One of the wardrobes was empty so I suppose that was for my belonging from home.  There was no doubt about it I was going to be moving here whether I wanted to or not. And although I was angry to begin with, I had to agree that they’d gone to an awful lot of trouble to make me feel welcome and entertained.

I sat in the middle of the race car track and pushed a couple of the super sports cars around as I thought of my situation. Other than Billy and Mark, there was very little to keep me at home and although I’d miss them terribly perhaps I should think about my family first. The strange thing was that once again, as I played with the toys, I felt I wasn’t by myself. There was a presence and I could imagine the boys enjoying this with me.

I’d noticed it from when Gran had turned on the light for the very first time and I saw what had been done, my heart lifted. It definitely wasn’t a room for a late teen but I didn’t care, what there was more to my liking than I thought possible.

I had no idea of time because there was no clock just all the coloured lights but I’d yawned a couple of times so hoped that this time, when I returned to my rather comfy bed, I’d get some sleep.

I cuddled the squishy lion and wished I hadn’t been so hasty in refusing the dummy; still I was hopeful as another huge yawn engulfed me that I’d peacefully slip into dreamland.


I woke up warm and cosy and sucking on the corner of the pink fleecy blanket, the lion amazingly having escaped my subconscious need to nurse. This teddy fleece bedding really does make you feel calm and loved; I just didn’t want to get up. Through the two windows opposite I could see a sunny morning had arrived but had no idea of the time. It didn’t matter because I could quite happily have stayed wrapped up like I was for the rest of the day. I ventured a hand over my slippery padding and unexpectedly it didn’t feel wet.

However, I could feel my stomach grumbling a little but I was just too comfortable to move. I wriggled a bit and felt my slippery pillow of protection slide about in a very reassuring way. To lie there was absolute heaven, never mind that when I got up there was tons of stuff for me to play with... back at home I still had my video games but the train and racetrack seemed far more fun. Perhaps that’s because for the moment they were a novelty but I had enjoyed myself in the dead of night just getting involved and letting my imagination run riot.

The pink fleecy blanket was sopping wet on the corner where I’d obviously spent quite some time sucking on it so I stretched out and swung it over the side of the bed to air out. In doing so one of its soft corners caught my nose and tickled it. I sneezed loudly but a moment later, and I have no idea if these actions were related, I let out a huge fart, that wasn’t just a fart and could feel myself filling my nappy with quite a flow of liquid poo.

Panicked I tried to clench but it was too late so quickly turned over onto my front hoping that somehow that would stem the tide. It didn’t and my bowel contracted further to force even more out. There was a lot. I don’t know how mum knew but she had me well-padded for just such an event and then, as if on cue, appeared at the top of the stairs.


“Morning baby, it’s 9:30, what would you like for breakfast?” She spoke loudly from her position looking down at me.

I’d just deposited what felt like a couple of gallons of mess into my nappy which was still busily trying to soak it all up.

“Are you awake love?” She asked warily and started down the creaking stairs.

I crawled out of bed backwards and ended up knelt at the side with my messy padded bum facing mum as she approached.

“Oh baby,” she came over and put a reassuring hand on my shoulder “another accident?”

I nodded into my fluffy fitted sheet as mum pulled free the duvet caught around my feet.

I sighed and turned to face her but I was quite embarrassed: Not that she hadn’t had to deal with this type of thing before, but that it had only just happened and was still feeling the nasty trickling effect soak everywhere.

Mum was soothing my back with soft caresses but I felt that a point had been made – I was still a messy little kid who needed looking after. I eventually turned round and faced her.

“Sorry.” I searched the floor for a place to disappear into.

She just shrugged and patted my now sagging nappy under the plastic pants which were struggling to keep it all in.

“That’s why you wear a nappy love and why you should never worry about wearing one.” She hugged me in support. “But shall we have a clean-up before breakfast?”

I nodded my agreement whilst being unhurriedly led to the changing table.


Mum stopped me from climbing up and laid an old towel out on the floor.

“Step on to that love,” I did as I was told.

Once she was sure no droplets would fall onto the carpet she pulled down the plastic pants and tossed them in the sink. Next she whistled at the saggy mess that confronted her but didn’t say anything. She released the pins and the entire mucky creation fell to the floor, I didn’t dare look at my handiwork. “Go take a shower baby and I’ll deal with this.”

So that’s what I did, I christened the new shower and although anyone could see me through the glass sides I wasn’t bothered I just wanted to get clean. I saw mum put the night time fabric nappy in the green bin so I suppose it was blue for disposables and green for eco-type fabric nappies. I didn’t think that particular nappy would be regarded as eco-friendly now.

After the shower she dried me down and had me lay out on the plastic padded mat on top of the unit. After applying the creams, lotion and powder there was a moment when she looked down at me and blew the most childish raspberry on my tummy. The noise was like the fart I’d done that produced the mess in the first place and a guilty giggle escaped my throat.

Mum was smiling as well.

“Do you remember just before you started work that you were in turmoil as to whether, with this change in your development, you should give up your pull-ups and dummy?”

I nodded because it was something I thought about on and off for some time. I joined in “You said that I didn’t need to as they were things that helped me over moments of stress.”

Mum nodded. “That’s true, you’ve always had anxiety issues and both those items have, in their own way, helped you through such times.”

I was lying there exposed although well-covered in a layer of sweet talc but mum had stopped the change to chat.

I gave a slight grimace. “I wondered if such things made me look like a child...”

“But baby they worked,” she interrupted.

I shrugged in agreement but wished she’d just get on with finding me a nappy.

However, it hardly seemed that long ago I was wearing pull-ups to bed, and then mum hit on the idea of Durable Slips (for the heavy wetter) to help with those regular nocturnal emissions.

“Anyway, your bedwetting was getting worse and so I introduced you to wearing a Durable Slip at night for more absorption...” It was as if she’d just read my mind. “For the...”

Heavy wetter,” I finished their selling pitch.

We both chuckled.


“You took to them like a duck to water.” I couldn’t disagree. “In fact I think, because of the extra thickness, you wanted to wear them all the time.” Again I couldn’t disagree.

For a moment I saw her eyes searching the nicely folded piles of different disposables that were arranged on the shelf above where I was laying.

“Because of that I wondered if perhaps there was more to it than just liking the mass and, as I’d already seen all these fun styles of nappies online, and the amount of Durables you were getting through each week, whether it might be nice to get you something slightly different.”

I wriggled a little uncertainly on the plastic padded mat wishing she’d just choose a style and get me into it.

“I was happily surprised when you were even more enthralled by the wonderful cartoon styles and incorporated them into what you wanted to wear for work.” She reached for a thick pink disposable and began to fluff it out. “You know sweetheart, that link between your love of nappies got stronger, as did the enjoyment of the more juve... erm... youthful style.”

I wasn’t sure where she was going with this conversation but at least it looked like I was soon to be covered and my little naked willy and balls made comfy. I was glad about that but I had zoned out a little.

“... and you know sweetie, over the past few months or so, your desire for those nappies has increased to the point that you don’t really want to think of any other way of going to the toilet.” Was mum being serious? “Now, I don’t want you to see that as a criticism, just a fact, and a fact that I may have helped encourage.”

I was still naked except for a bit of powder and thought it a strange time to have any discussion when all I really wanted was to get that fresh nappy on and have some breakfast.

“At the moment I know that all you’re really interested in is which nappy I’m going to put you in.”

“And have breakfast,” I added as a joke.

“Maybe but it’s the nappy which is important because that’s how you now identify yourself... the boy who wears nappies.”

“And eats breakfast,” I thought it was funny to joke with her.

“Yes, OK, and the boy who likes breakfast,” she conceded. “But, if I slipped you into a pair of these,” she held up a pair of briefs (I had no idea where she’d got them from as only moments before she was holding a disposable), I suspect, no, I know, you’d not be happy about it, or enjoy wearing them.”

“Yes, well it’s your fault you got me into these thick disposables and such...” I tried to place some blame.

“Indeed I did and continue to do so because I know this is how you are and I love you for it.”

“But you’ve made me this way.”

“No baby, you’ve always loved them, I just steered you to a more fun version of what you desired.”

I wasn’t sure if mum was making any sense or if it was me that was being a bit dense but I’m sure I never asked for cartoon nappies.

“But I never asked for this...” I wriggled unhappily on the plastic mat which I was beginning to stick to.

“The thing is Jason, you have but quite subconsciously. You might not have even been aware of it but since dad died you’ve slowly been heading towards where you are now.”

“But I...”

“When you got the job I thought ‘good for you’ because you’d found something to help you advance and grow a little. However, the job did bring with it huge anxieties both before you started and whilst you were doing it. You suddenly needed your nappies for work as well as night time and that’s when I thought to speed this journey of discovery up a bit and introduced you to what I saw as the ‘next stage’. So the colourful nappies were instituted” She smiled down at me in the most loving way. “As you toddled off to work wearing a nappy under your suit I was just so pleased that my little boy was still in there.” She tapped my head.

“Have I been manipulated...?”

“I don’t think so sweetheart just encouraged in the direction of travel.”

“So have you made everything happen that’s happened?”

“Oh sweetie, if only I had such power. No, you’ve been responsible for that but I’ve tried to guide you from the excesses and channel you into areas I thought you’d appreciate.”

I shrugged. What on earth did she mean... what about Terry and...

Then it tumbled, that was definitely down to me because mum wasn’t around, she was busy giving her full attention to her sick mother and I went off the rails. The thing is it didn’t feel that way at the time because I wanted what happened to happen. I wanted to be grown up, to act grown up, to do grown up things and you couldn’t get more grown up (I thought) than having sex. However, things might have been different if I’d had mum to come home to and discuss my day. Would I have made those mistakes if I’d had her clear, no nonsense advice?

Then the strangest thing happened. I remembered being a little kid in this very room. We must have been visiting and I was running around whilst both dad and Grandad were cheering me on as I tried to escape from their pretend game of dinosaurs, which I loved as a kid.

In this memory, which was so clear, almost real, I could see I was wearing a thick nappy and white glossy plastic pants, screaming in delight as daddy caught me and roared like a t-rex. This perfect ‘real’ image was a shock to the system, and how I hadn’t felt alone as I played last night suddenly made sense. So, whether it happened or not the vision was so indelibly stamped in my mind it was authentic to me, I hadn’t been alone.

Without warning I found tears sliding down my face.

“Oh baby,” mum was quickly in as usual for support. The hug was what I needed and at the same time I could feel the presence of dad in that wonderful embrace. In fact, as I thought about it, mum’s hugs were always intense enough for two.

She held me for as long as it took to calm down.

“OK you win we should come and live here.”

“It’s not a case of winning baby; it’s where you, no we, need to be.”

She threw the briefs she’d had in her hand into the sink and picked up the fluffed out pink disposable that I hadn’t seen her put to one side. Mum was a constant mystery. Without checking I was happy with her choice, which by the way I was, she taped me in and added very glossy matching rubber pants.

Once tucked in, she found a nice pale blue shirt, slid it over my head and said I was ready. 

“What about some pants?” I wondered.

“Not today sweetheart you’ll do as you are. I want to see my baby boy as I remember him from when we first brought you here, you were so damn cute and you loved to run around dressed... just as you are now.”

I thought it was a bit weird and definitely not what I expected but then I didn’t think of mum as having her own desires... until now... but there again... weren’t they my own desires?


I stood up and mum flattened the air out of the billowing rubber pants. I watched my reflection in the mirrored wardrobe and asked a serious question.

“Do you like seeing me like this?” It wasn’t the first time I’d asked that particular question.

She continued to pat the glossy material down as she thought for a moment and then smiled.

“The simple answer is ‘Yes’ but there is a reason.”

“Oh yes and what is that?”

“Well, your father and I loved all aspects of bringing you up, smelly nappies and all, but he noticed that when you got a bit fidgety or upset you also peed a little so, even though as you got older you were wearing underpants, we often put you back into nappies. He also noticed that, as with his kid brothers, a dummy also helped settle you down.”

“Yes I know all this...” I said a little irritably.

“But wearing a nappy did more... it made you more loving. Don’t get me wrong, you’ve always been a sweet boy and absolutely no trouble, but still, a nappy made you want to cuddle up to dad or me.”

I shrugged as I couldn’t help but feel the reflection in the full length mirror said I was nothing but a big baby.

“When he died,” she coughed a little as if trying to hide a little emotion, “to begin with you were a little distant and it broke my heart that you didn’t want to cuddle as much. However, after one particular night when you wet the bed and I returned you to wearing a nappy, you returned to wanting a cuddle.”


“Since then, and since you’ve wet the bed more regularly, I’ve let you wear a nappy because it suited us both but I also noticed that it was something you loved. They had an ‘effect’ that changed, no, not changed... emphasised your personality.”

But I had lots of underpants and stuff...”

“Yes you wore them for school and for weeks on end but then suddenly you’d leak and it was back to wearing a bit of padding. So I let you choose when and where you wanted to wear a nappy. The fact you were getting older didn’t seem to worry you and it certainly didn’t worry me.”

“So I see,” I said running my hand over the slippery pillow I was now wearing.

“The nappies and disposables you now wear all the time proved to me that despite you having a job, and possibly feeling grown up, that wasn’t all you wanted.” Mum looked satisfied with her response. “In fact I thought it was more of a distraction to what you really wanted.”

“And what was that?” I harrumphed.

“I think that you want to return to a time when dad was with us and everything was wonderful.” She waited for a reaction but I just stared at her. “I think you want to return to a time when you hadn’t a care in the world and everything seemed perfect and that was when you wore a nappy, sucked on a dummy and daddy was there to play with his baby boy.”

I was speechless.

“I think you feel cheated that you never got the time you think others had with their father and the nappies and dummy are a substitute. Not that I’m complaining, but I did what you’re father said all those years ago - ‘You have to put yourself in the other person’s position and see what’s wrong from their point of view’ - so that’s what I’ve been doing ever since.

I eventually found my voice. “That can’t be right.”

The thing is, lately, when I’ve thought about dad, not only does a wonderful and understanding man spring into my head but also mentally a man who patted my padding and encouraged me to have fun.

“Look love, I’m not trying to make you something you’re not. All I’m doing, all I’ve ever done, is offer possibilities and whenever there’s been such an option you’ve chosen this path over anything else.”

I took a good look at myself in the mirror and shrugged.

“So, is that why am I dressed like this now?”

“OK, OK, this is a confession. I wanted to give you the opportunity to relive a few moments from your past. Where running around this old house, the one where you, your father and Grandad all enjoyed time together, and where you were usually dressed exactly like this.” She paused for that to sink in, “and if I’m being honest, how I love seeing you now.”

The think was, I did often feel exactly like that and wearing just my protection and maybe a t-shirt was more than enough for me to feel happy, mainly because a nappy and a pair of plastic pants made me feel secure... and I loved that security.

However, what I came up with was. “Mum, you’re weird.”

“I know but, I’ve seen you at home and you never appear happier than when you haven’t a care in the world and are dressed like this.”

She’d already read deep into my psyche. Hell, even my time with the boys we were in our nappies and that was the best time ever. Perhaps, this, with people around me who understand, will be OK after all.

I nodded. “Mmmm, perhaps you’re right about that...”

“Hopefully baby I’m right about most things.” She smiled and lovingly patted my padding.

“Will aunty and Gran be shocked if I bowl up for a bowl of Corn Flakes just wearing this?” I patted my own well-padded bottom.

“I doubt it love... we’re all in agreement that if it’s what you want... then you should do it. There’s no pressure to do or be anything you’re not happy with because that’s the key... your happiness.”

“Well, I did spend most of the night,” I let out a little yawn, “happily playing with the train set and cars so...”

There was something else, I didn’t feel alone and was sure dad and Grandad were sat next to me and we played together.

“OK then, let’s go and have some breakfast.”

# tbc #

Part 25

As I walked to the kitchen table where a bowl and several packs of cereal were waiting I saw both Gran’s and auntie’s face light up when they saw what I was wearing.

“Oh Jason,” aunty said as she patted my bum and brushed over the slinky pink plastic, “these bring back some memories.”

“Thank you Jason,” Gran beamed, “it’s like how things used to be. I’m so happy if this means you’ll be staying with us.”

I nodded but mum answered for me. “Yes mother, we’ve both decided to take you up on the wonderful offer.” She ruffled my short hair as I poured some Corn Flakes into the bowl, “He loves his room and thinks he’ll be happy here... I think we all will.”

Gran couldn’t help herself and let out a little squeal of happiness as she clapped her hand and came around to hug us both. “I can’t wait for both of you to get settled but, in the meantime, is there anything else I can get you both?”


As I sat enjoying the Flakes I got to thinking about all that was going on around me, and I didn’t mean just at the table. For one, what was ‘little space’, why had they gone to such lengths to re-create a kid’s bedroom and why were they so happy to see me wearing nothing but a nappy?

Mum, and Granny to a certain extent, had tried to explain things but there was still a nagging doubt that something, as far as I was concerned, just wasn’t right. Like how come I ‘happened’ to lose my job just at the time Granny wanted us to move back? Why had Tom...?”

Actually, at that moment I knew I’d go mad if I tried to make sense of any of it.

The thing was I did like my basement bedroom, the electric train set had been an absolute joy. In fact, before dad died we’d planned on getting one because he liked them as well. He laughed conspiratorially and said it was something we could add to and have a fantastic railway system to take us anywhere. Meanwhile, I thought perhaps the only thing that was better than that, was my room at home full of nappies where Billy and Mark could come and play.

There you go... play!

That, I assumed, was what was meant by ‘little space’, where I felt comfortable playing instead of working as a Junior Lab Research Assistant. Mum also said that she was pleased I went to my job wearing a nappy because she knew there was still her ‘little boy in there’. Over the years, and what seemed more recently, mum had asked if I liked wearing nappies and obviously, if you’ll pardon the silliness, from the moment she’d bought some I’d happily slipped into wearing them. I couldn’t escape the fact that wearing them made me joyful.

Perhaps Gran was correct; mum did know me inside-out and better than I knew myself.


I finished the bowl and Gran whisked it away to be washed up, whilst at the same time telling me there was plenty to watch on TV as she’d got all the latest channels for my enjoyment, and of course there was a load to discover down in my room.

As I exited into the sitting room where the large TV was situated I heard mum call after me.

“Let one of us know when you’re wet, we don’t want you to get a rash now do we?”

Mum has been saying that for years, why did she feel the need to remind me now, was it for my benefit or the others?

Of course it’s because I usually use my nappy these days but that was at work I think I can get to the loo if need be. However, I am wearing a nappy so a case could be made for - what’s the point?

A couple of other things flashed into my mind like... I’m not at work now so should be able to use the toilet as normal... so why then hadn’t I? I’m not stupid, I have my ‘O’ and ‘A’ levels, so why have I stopped thinking and just let things happen?

Mum had intimated that despite my ‘cleverness’ I still preferred to behave like a kid – thus the nappies. Given the choice of being a grown up or a big kid, she thinks that being a big kid would always win out. I’d tried being grown up and enjoyed it to a certain extent but needed nappies to help me through it. Now, when I thought about it, once again mum was spot-on.

When I turned on the TV I was confronted by an old episode of The Muppet Show, which I was just about to switch over but Kermit caught my attention. When I was a kid I had a whole set of Muppet clothes; t-shirts, shorts, pyjamas, socks and underwear, I just loved the show and all the characters. I even had posters on my wall and whilst I was reminiscing about that I found myself falling back in love with how much fun the show was.

So, there I was, wearing a pale blue t-shirt, a large pink disposable nicely covered in thick glossy pink pants, and enjoying the antics of Kermit, Fozzie Bear and Miss Piggy like I had when a toddler. I must have seen the show before because I think they were repeats when I saw them originally but nevertheless were still exciting and funny for a new viewer of Jim Henson’s surreal world.

When that finished there were repeats of Sesame Street and Frazzle Rock being lined up for later in the day and I found myself making mental notes of the times. I changed channels and found SpongeBob SquarePants and on another some really old BBC kids shows like The Clangers. As I shuffled down the channels there were nearly all aimed at kids TV and I looked over to mum who was watching.

“Is this all I’m allowed to watch?” Despite enjoying the show I was annoyed if that was the case.

“Of course not silly,” but without further explanation returned to the kitchen where aunty and Gran were chatting.


I was feeling a bit restless so went and stood by the main front window that looked out over to the lake. I’d actually forgotten how fantastic the uninterrupted view was and in the sun, and that time of year, it all was so perfect.

I remembered as a kid that we used to go for boat rides on the lake or dad and Grandad would row us out to the middle and fish, whilst I looked over the side to see if I could spy any and offer advice as to where would be best to cast their lines. We’d have sandwiches and lovely cold drinks and sit out all day watching the other water enthusiasts sailing or in some cases, powering along in speed boats. It was a thrilling day out as was every time I visited. I sat looking out, my nappy and pants billowing around me and nostalgia took over and my mind flooded with loads of similar memories of the fun I’d had in this house.

It was silly really because I hadn’t visited for quite some time. There was no real reason for that it was just a bit of a drive and I had my school mates who I wanted to spend more time with than visiting relations. Anyway, I could feel regret, as well as that creeping nostalgia. Not only that, but then like mum, I felt guilty for not giving Granny enough attention as well as actually missing out on this wonderful panorama.   

A shiver ran down my spine as I searched the horizon for the spot where Grandad and I walked to the highest place on the hills opposite. I remember him saying “You’re a good boy Jason, shall we claim this idyllic place for Granny?” I was proud of making it that far because I was only three or four years old. I had a sense of achievement and with Grandad’s praise ringing in my ear, I squealed a childish “Yes” to his suggestion. I could even hear him making his little speech... it was as if he was whispering it into my ear. I shuddered because it seemed so real that I looked behind to make sure I was on my own.

The more I sat in wonder the more comfortable I felt. Memory after memory kept filling my head and I found myself smiling as I reminisced further about being there as a child. I still could hear the echo of daddy’s and grandad’s voices clearly as we played games in the garden, hiked in the woods or had picnics along the lakeside. They were always cheerful and encouraging... why did we leave this place?


I looked down at my padding, the fact I was almost nineteen had no effect, because this is how it was and how it should be. It is when I’m at my happiest and it appears that it makes others happy as well. Hell, it made Billy and Mark happy and the idea of me wearing one even made their parents happy... so why would I not embrace what is essentially me?

I rubbed and stroked, patted and fondled the slinky mass that had, certainly in the recent past, defined who I was. It felt wonderful and the comfort value of the soft padding offering a permanent hug was something I never wanted to lose.

“Do you want you dum-dum love?” Mum asked when she saw me deep in thought.

“Erm, I’m fine thanks, not a care in the world...” I smiled, “except, when will we be going home?”

“Do you want to go home?”

“Well we need to bring some of our things here, clothes, laptop and stuff, and suspect you’ll need to sell the house.”

“You don’t have to go home though, I can do all that. You can stay here and keep Gran and aunty company while I sort things out.”

“Will we be moving that quickly?” I panicked a little.

“Sweetie, I’ve already got things underway... there’s no point in delaying...”

“But, erm, I’d want to say good-bye to my friends and even offer Billy and Mark a place to visit, if that’s OK?”

Mmmm, well I don’t see why not. Your bedroom could cope with as many playmates as you want.”

I looked at mum seriously. “What do you mean playmates?”

She looked confused, “Well isn’t that what they are... mates who you play with?”

“Yes but you make it sound so, childish.” I felt stupid because here I was sitting in a nappy and complaining mum was making me and my friends sound childish.

“I’m sorry sweetheart I don’t mean to make you feel bad. What would you like me to call them?”

Weirdly I was stuck for another expression as the term ‘playmates’ was now all I could think of them as.

“Oh it doesn’t matter.” I said defeated.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like your dummy?”

Yes please.” I whispered, defeated in my argument.

She had it ready in her pocket and strode over to where I was sitting and instead of passing it to me gently slipped it between my lips.

“There you go love everything’s going to be all right.”

I accepted the soothing latex bulb and took a few welcoming sucks “Fanksh murmms”.


The dummy tasted of honey, which was very nice, but as I sucked and looked over the scene outside I watched as a yacht under full sail gently glided behind a small island. I wondered if I should go exploring and find out what was there. Then I had an idea that Billy, Mark and I could do that if they came to visit. I got all excited at the prospect and found myself filling the front of my super pink disposable in anticipation.

With the cover being opaque I knew it wouldn’t leak so didn’t bother to tell anyone what had just happened. I got up and wandered out into the back garden and was surprised to see that there was a lovely old fashioned swing hanging from the branch of a tree.

Granny and Aunty had their backs to me as I approached but caught a little of what they were saying.

“... on the autistic spectrum... known since little... his father knew...”

The conversation stopped and the two’s deep conversation was replaced by encouraging smiles.

“A bit of fresh air and sunlight,” Aunty Jane commented as I wondered towards the swing. “Just what a boy needs... do you need a push sweetie?”

“No thanks I’m fine,” and went and sat on the swing wondering if their exchange was about me or someone else.

I couldn’t quite believe how much fun it was to just slowly sway back and forth. 

I closed my eyes and pushed forward thrusting my legs out as far as I could to gain momentum. The happy giggles came unannounced as I felt myself gaining height with each backwards and forwards swoop. I had visions of going so high that I did a complete loop-de-loop and the thought both thrilled and terrified me. The breeze caressed my bare legs and cooled my nappy, which in exhilaration I’d added to. The wind blew my t-shirt up so my naked tummy was exposed but it felt fantastic. It was almost as if I was being helped by a phantom pair of hands gently pushing on my back. I was flying.

With my eyes closed I could picture daddy behind giving that gentle shove to send me into outer space. Yes, that was it, as a toddler I remembered that was something he’d said as we played on this swing, or maybe a different swing, but I remembered his words.

“Son, you’ll soon be joining the moon and stars if you go any higher.”

I just screamed in exhilaration “Push me higher daddy, push me harder.”

As he did I shrieked with delight.


I didn’t loop-de-loop but eventually slowed down and just gently swung too and fro. When I opened my eyes Granny was watching and looked concerned but when she saw I was OK smiled and asked if I wanted anything to drink.

I sat for a moment not swinging at all but full of endorphins that made me feel alive.

“You had me worried there for a while love,” Granny started, “going that high and...”

“Yes it was fun thanks.”

I stood up and it became instantly apparent that my nappy was soaked because of the obvious sag.

“Come on Jason I think it’s time we changed that nappy, it can’t be nice...”

I stopped her from adding more, “Yes OK Gran.” She patted my inflated bottom as I passed and waddled uneasily down to my bedroom.

Aunty Jane was down there emptying the bins she had a plastic bag which I assumed carried the awful evidence of my nappy crimes. I noticed that my bed had also been remade and even some toys I’d left out had been put away. It was all quite tidy.

“Well Jason I see you’ve got another full nappy for me to see to.” She put down the plastic bags and invited me to the changing table.

“Erm, it’s alright aunty, I’ll do it myself.”

Then Gran appeared at the basement entrance and saw her daughter already in situ. “Hah Jane, I think Jason needs a fresh nappy can you see to him please... save me trying to get down these stairs?”

“Sure, no trouble, I was about to do so anyway but can you just check on the potatoes please... just turn them off they should be done by now.”

“OK love” and Gran turned and left.

“Right now mister, let’s get that soaked thing off and you into, well,” she looked at the array before her, “which do you prefer... or would you rather I choose, eh?”

She was patting the padded mat so realised I had no alternative but to climb up and lie out.

“There’s a good boy. Aunty will have you all safe and sorted in just a few minutes, OK?”

I nodded but she also hadn’t changed my nappy since I was a toddler. Then I wondered if that was the case. I mean, they kept saying that every time I visited I ended up running around in just my protection... was that the case every time or only when I was a toddler? Was there some other reason I ran around dressed that way or were they only singling out those times I had?

The thing was, when they said I’d run around wearing just a nappy I could actually visualise doing so. Also, I suppose that even these days, when at home, I spend an awful lot of time wearing only that or just shorts and t-shirt.

Anyway, aunty changing me was going to be weird to say the least and I wasn’t looking forward to it. Unless the idea is, all females in the house would be taking turns at replacing my soggy nappies.

“You know love,” she said looking around the room, “we had so much fun putting this room together.”

Mmm, did you?” I was slightly embarrassed to be talking like this was all normal.

“Yes, mum wanted it to be everything you’ve ever wanted and so, together with your mum, photos from other people’s favourite rooms, a Top 10 most desired items for a boys bedroom and things we just thought looked cute... this was what we came up with.”

I looked around and nodded as my wet nappy was removed.

She chuckled to herself. “You should have seen your Granny crawling on all fours putting the track together and making sure the train set worked. I thought she’d gone mad but knew it was something you’d like. She insisted that the trains should definitely take centre stage in the room and I think she was correct; even I love a little go. She also maintained that the bedding had to be super-soft and found this particular fabric and knew it was just right for you.”

“Yes it’s very ni...”

“Oh love, we’re so pleased you like it all.” She excitedly wiped my naked crotch down and organised the creams and lotions that were destined to follow.

I got it into my head that they’d gone to all this trouble for a child not a teenager. It was stupid because on one hand I was quite miffed that’s what they thought of me and on the other... I loved it all.

Aunty was still smiling as she was dazzled by the choice of nappies. “Your mother really likes these thick colourful cartoon disposables and I have to agree... they look so sweet.”

The fact that I was soon to be nineteen made no difference to her. I had a soaked nappy that needed to be changed and, as I was now going to be a resident of this household, this was how they were going to treat me.

The thing is I wasn’t sure if it was a dream come true or something I should be fighting against... and what was that about someone being autistic?


Aunty was so gentle and considerate. Not that mum or Granny weren’t it was just different and I quite enjoyed those subtle variances between the ways my nappy was replaced. Of course I’d thoroughly enjoyed Billy and Mark doing it and it was only after she pulled up the fresh plastic pants to encase the thick fleecy nappy she’d decided on that I realised just how much I loved being indulged this way.

Now, that sounded like I’d just made this discovery but of course that isn’t true because it’s something I’ve always appreciated. I mean I can and do change my own wet nappies, I did it at work, but I prefer to have it done for me. Mum has always indulged me on that, I suppose because she has seen me needing nappies and has been more than happy to let me wear them. I don’t think she’s ever told me to grow up, or not wear this or not suck on that, she’s encouraged me to go with what I felt I needed.

As aunty finished and I thanked her I could feel the modification she’d made to the way the cotton fabric was folded. Apart from the extra soaker she’d added it had been pleated in a slightly different way and she’d found two pins, with plastic yellow duck heads, to hold it all in place. The plastic pants she’d chosen were a dull pale yellow but you could see the pins through the thin fabric.

“Now then, do you want some pants or are you OK as you are?” She asked as she took a final look at her handiwork.

She slid the wardrobe door open and revealed a host of stuff that I had yet to wear.

“Look, some of this is easier to put on than others so why don’t I just pop you in a pair of shorts and t-shirt for the time being.”

She seemed to grab what was nearest and slipped a yellow t-shirt over my head and a pair of beige elasticated shorts that hugged me tightly. She then pushed the hair that had flopped into my eyes away but wasn’t satisfied.

Mmmm?” She thought for a second before finding a comb.

“I can do that aunty,” I said holding out my hand.

“Nonsense, it will just take a second,” she then combed it into a quiff like mum had.

“There, all set now for what the afternoon has to offer. Anyway, lunch will be ready in a minute...” she picked up the bin bags and wandered upstairs.

It was then that I spotted my phone on the charger. I’d completely forgotten about that but noticed it was at 100%, there were some bars (although the area itself was not the best for reception), and I noticed I had two text messages.

The first said TOM – You made the right decision. Xfering me to London.

That was quite dispiriting I hoped for at least an ‘x’ on the end but alas no. Still he had thought to let me know but without any indication I was forgiven or hopefully he thought he’d made a mistake in dumping me.

The next was unknown. I opened it expecting some random invite to buy something or try a new betting app or some such thing bit no – GET IN TOUCH, THAT SWEET ASS OF YOURS NEEDS POUNDING – TERRY again no ‘x’ but very unambiguous.

I caught sight of myself in the wardrobe mirrors - I could have been mistaken for a pre-teen but wondered what Terry would make of me now. Immediately the thought flashed in my head - he’d liked the nappy when we’d met and had happily shagged me in the most enthusiastic way.

My cock went stiff, an orgasmic shiver rippled through my body and spontaneously erupted into the front of my fresh clean nappy. Thankfully, aunty had gone by then because the little rude exclamation that accompanied it I’m sure would have caused comment.


I sat on my bed more than a little surprised. Not only about getting such a message but the reaction that followed. This was a huge wrench from the ‘little space’ I’d so easily slipped into, this was grown up stuff. The bed, well, the mattress cover and my plastic pants crinkled as I wriggled trying to decide what I should do. Do I reply and if so did I want to do what he so graphically described in so few words?

There was no doubt that at the time Terry had given me something I didn’t know I wanted. When I’d thought about it after the event I didn’t do much to dissuade him and whilst it was happening I hadn’t thought of Tom until much, much later. He was large, vigorous and took great pleasure in shagging lads. It had been a bit of a surprise when he mentioned a wife.

As I thought about this my hand began to rub the smooth bulge under my shorts. I could feel the sticky deposit against my skin and my arse muscles were tweaking at the memory of what we’d done. The thing is... part of me thought seeing Terry would be too grown up and the other part thought it was time to enjoy that aspect of my life again.

I was drawn out of my confusion by mum standing at the top of the stairs and letting me know that food was on the table. I had no idea if she’d seen me rubbing away or not.

“Well you’re looking very, erm, smart,” she commented on what aunty had put me in. “It’s such a lovely afternoon fancy a trip to the lake later?”

I quite liked the idea of that so jauntily made my way up to join the others. My grown up decision-making was going to have to wait, whilst my childish excitement of possibly going on a boat was far more important.


Mid-afternoon and mum drove us all down towards the dock. Passing where dad grew up I saw there’d been some building work. “There seems to have been some dramatic changes, it looks different.”

Aunty Jane said that after several families, the Webb-Taylors lived there now. “Well,” she said sounding a bit annoyed, “it’s there second, possibly third home and they hardly ever use it.”

“Why do I know the name?” I was wracking my brain.

“She’s the doctor off the telly and he has a law firm in Manchester.”

“Ahh,” I added in recognition, “the place looks nice.”

 “Yes, they’ve spent a fortune and extended it quite a bit... it’s spectacular inside... they did a great job.”

She wasn’t finished with her opinion of the place.

 “It’s lovely inside but really a family should be living there not just two people who occasionally visit.”

I wondered if people had said the same about Gran and aunty in their big house.


Mum parked up and the dockside was busy without being overcrowded. Thankfully, the line to board The Gazelle, a relic of the age of steam, was short enough for us all to get on-board as a group. It was a well-kept piece of history that the local sailing club had restored. The ‘heritage’ brass-work shone, the woodwork buffed to perfection and the chrome-work looked brand new. Meanwhile, the satisfying steamy hiss of the engine gave the thirty or so passengers a reassuring look back to - pleasure sailing’s glorious past - well that’s what the brochure believed.

The wooden seating was slick but not the most comfortable and we had to find Gran a more comfortable padded seat inside the cabin. However, like most of the other passengers we were all just thrilled to be out on the lake and taking in the wonderful views as we chugged gently through the water and around the islands. We could even see our house off in the distance and, like a bunch of other kids I was kneeling up on the seating and looking over the side. Several had shouted that they’d seen fish and I was keen to join in the search. Although what strange aquatic species I hoped to see in the murky depths I had no idea.

Well into the voyage I heard a small voice saying “...that older boy’s wearing a nappy.”

It didn’t immediately click that he could have been talking about me. Because I don’t look at myself, what I’m wearing isn’t constantly on my mind and it all becomes normal. I know I’m wearing a nappy and a plastic cover, but I don’t even think about my shorts and jacket because I’m used to it. However, I do forget that with the extra padding and the fact I’m wearing shorts that when I bend over or stretch for things, the waistband or leg-band of my protection sometimes pops into view.

I looked around and saw the boy and his mum smirking a little bit and she had her phone out. Then she put on her serious face and turned him to look out at some distant object that was suddenly of interested.

For a moment I was a little anxious at who else might be looking and as a result a spurt of pee added to the bulk. However, mum was nearby and she broke off chatting to Aunty Jane to mouth the words “You look perfect darling” and smiled a dazzling smile. She immediately put me at ease; although I did turn around and sit down and rearranged my shorts a bit.

It was a lovely trip out and brought back some happy memories and I think it was the same for many of the older people who were on-board with us. As we disembarked there was a lot of happy chat about the experience but, walking along the gangplank I felt a small hand swat my bum. I looked around and it was that boy again... this time he had the cheekiest grin and didn’t seem in the least bit afraid that I might not like having my bum smacked. I didn’t say anything but he was still grinning when he looked back then took his mother’s hand before drifting off into the rest of the crowd. It was a strange experience though wasn’t sure why I’d quite enjoyed it.


It had been a rather wonderful encounter and I don’t just mean with the ‘spanking kid’. Gran had thoroughly enjoyed getting out and although was tired had been well treated in the more exclusive cabin for the elderly. She’d enjoyed the company of other, shall we say, more seasoned travellers, who had tales of how the old boat had found a new lease of life from a dedicated bunch of restoration enthusiasts.

I never know what mum and aunty find to talk about but they were in jovial mood from the start and never stopped chattering the entire trip. There had been the occasional look in my direction and, if they saw me looking back, it was followed by a reassuring smile. It was nice.

Meanwhile, I was still trying to fathom out why such a young kid smacking my arse hadn’t infuriated me but then realised, it was because I smiled back. He was only about five or six years old but was testing boundaries and on that occasion he saw a bigger boy wearing a nappy and assumed he could treat him as he would someone on his level (maybe even younger). Anyway, whether this was the case or not I accepted that for him at least this was both a daring thing to do but also cheeky fun, which was the aspect of the act that I found equally amusing.

I think mum, aunty and Gran maybe correct in their assessment - I’m not quite ready to grow up just yet.

# tbc #


Part 26

When you wear padding, no matter at what age, that cushion of fabric seems to entice others to give it a pat. Mum, Gran and aunty all pat my bum after they’ve changed me, or even if I’m just standing next to them. Of course there’s a general pat, stroke or squeeze when we hug or cuddle. I’m not complaining because for as long as I’ve worn a nappy, or pull-ups or training pants, my bottom has received nonstop acknowledgement that it’s there to be fondled.

When mum and I snuggle she nearly always pats my padded bottom as we talk. It’s part of the intimacy we share and over the years it has become an intimacy others seem to take for granted. The thing is I like that affection. There’s a warmth and tenderness that goes with it that actually over-rides the fact my personal space is being infringed. The fact I am wearing a nappy I suppose subconsciously or not means I want that kind of connection.

I don’t know if it’s just something in people’s make-up because babies wearing nappies are always patted on their bottoms and told what good boys or girls they are. Is it a reflex thing? If there’s padding is it just a natural instinct to pat and enjoy the soft stuffing as much as enjoying the company of a child. Undoubtedly, I could get lost in these thoughts as I lay on the changing table whilst mum cleans me up and puts me in fresh thick night time fortification.

It had been a lovely day but there had been so much going through my brain it was difficult to put it all into context. Tom’s text, Terry’s text, aunty changing me, the boat trip but it was safe to say, what had stuck in my mind the most was when that little lad had spanked my padded butt and got me thinking about all this stuff.


“We’ll be going home tomorrow because we need to pack and also I’ve arranged for a couple of Estate Agents to assess the house.” Mum added by way of conversation which took me by surprise.

“Ohh!” Suddenly it was all serious and we were definitely moving. Of course I knew it was happening but now it was real. “What about all our stuff?”

“Don’t worry love, we’ll be there for a few days but I want the house cleared so that any potential buyers have a clean canvas to work on.” She saw I was looking a bit sad. “Oh love, don’t be upset, this is an opportunity...” She was pulling my plastic pants up as she continued.

Unfortunately, Mrs Garfield’s words filled my head “Let’s just say you’re finding new opportunities shall we?” I’m hopeful that mum didn’t mean the same and I was being let go.

“... and then we should get a good price, the market is pretty buoyant at the moment and once we’ve paid off the remainder of the mortgage... we should be left with a decent sum.”

Although I heard what mum said I was really thinking about the life I was about to leave behind. I didn’t realise just how devastated I’d feel but it was like a huge weight was suddenly dropped onto my body and I felt unable to move. My anxiety levels hit a peak and my fresh thick night time nappy flooded.

The sigh that escaped didn’t go unnoticed by mum as she watched all the work she’d just done was made wet.

Thankfully, mum was very sympathetic.

“Oh love, please don’t worry everything’s going to be alright.” She looked sad that I was still uneasy about this move. Despite that she slowly eased down the plastic pants, unpinned the thick soaked material and began the clean-up operation all over again. “I’d hoped you’d come to terms with the move love... but I guess it’s still a little daunting.”

It was and this awful worrying weight had just help expel a gallon of pee I didn’t know was in me. However, I didn’t want mum to think I was scared so pretended it was because of other worries.

“No, I mean, what about all our furniture, and beds and things like that...” I mumbled.

“Well, what we don’t need we’ll put into storage initially, or sell or... we can decide later. I mean all we need to bring are clothes and personal items that we haven’t got here...”

“Mum, erm, what about... erm...” Whilst I was thinking of something else to say she continued to fiddle with the various items available for my comfort.

I ended up with a couple of extra soaker pads filling out a fresh white nappy. It was just as well I was going to bed because, dressed as I was, I doubt I could have gotten up those basement stairs without difficulty.

Actually, once I was helped from the changing table I didn’t go straight to bed I settled down in front of the train set and let my mind wander as they commenced new journeys. The extra padding and soft thick fabric was held tight as mum had thoughtfully pulled a onesie over it all and the press-stud fastening between my legs held it tight against my body. It felt nice. Also, she’d thoughtfully left a new dummy by the side of my bed so slipped that in and could feel the stress slowly begin to leave.

On the platform of the main station amongst all other replica buildings were models of a family; mum, dad, little girl and little boy all with suitcases. In my head I was like them, just about to go on a trip but where to? It was all down to me, I could send them anywhere; with my dummy as a substitute whistle I was the station master, ticket officer and train driver. Their destination was in my hands, I was the master of their adventure and I could have them end up anywhere I wanted.

Mum had gone and I had no idea how long I’d been playing with the trains sending them on incredible expeditions but suddenly realised that I was in charge of my own journey... so I could go anywhere and do anything I fancied.

I sucked hard on dum-dum; maybe I had no worries after all.


I heard the creaking stairs but of course there was still no clock in my new basement bedroom but there was light coming in the small ground-level windows opposite.

“Are you awake love?” It was mum’s voice and I stretched and yawned as she approached the bed.

“Yeerrssshhh,” I said around the dummy that I’d found myself already sucking as I woke up just a few seconds before I heard mum taking on the stairs. I stretched and wriggled myself further into consciousness.

“It’s 8:30 and I’d like to get off before ten as the first appointment is around one.”

I took the dummy out. “OK.”

Mum pulled the duvet down and I felt the slight chill of the morning cooling my legs and arms - the onesie not covering them. However, a couple of the studs had come apart and the tight garment was only held on by one stud. I flicked its release and the stretchy material sprung apart making access to my nappy a lot easier.

“How’re you doing this morning?” I knew she was referring to my nappy but as I dipped my fingers under the plastic pants I was able to report I was dry. “Oh well done love... that’s good isn’t it?”

“Is breakfast ready or do I have time to dress first?”

“No love, get yourself ready and I’ll have something on the table for you when you emerge,” she smiled at that word. “Oh, do you want any help?” She reached out to help me out of the onesie.

“No thanks I’ll cope.”

Mum started faffing around and then, as if it was a huge hint to get a move on passed me a fresh towel and pointed me towards the shower.

“I’ll get...” then I heard her mobile phone ring. “Hello.”

I didn’t hear the rest of that conversation as I turned on the shower which drowned it out.


Once I’d dried off I was surprised to see mum had not only gone but hadn’t left any items out for me to wear. So, because the choice was mine I flipped through the stack of disposables and settled on one of my nice solid purple ones. Also I remembered it was the type that Billy had worn and taken with him after our session. I knew from experience that they’re very soft, thick and absorbent so, after giving a thorough fluffing out, taped it on. There was a pair of matching soft vinyl pants so pulled them up and then went in search of what else to wear.

Because mum had used a onesie before and it had proved to hold everything nice and tidily I found a new white one in the wardrobe which fastened comfortably between my legs; the lift against my groin was nicely secure. I searched for a pair of jeans or trousers but couldn’t find any though found a grey fleecy jumper with matching shorts and thought they’d do fine.

When I appeared in the kitchen there was tea, toast, local honey, jam and marmalade waiting. Gran and aunty were sat sipping coffee and discussing with mum when we’d be returning.

“Well, I’m not really sure, it all depends on what the Estate Agents say, how quickly we can decide what to bring with us...”

“You have everything you need here.” Gran was quick to point out. She really didn’t want us to go for any length of time but hoped we’d soon be back.

“Well, yes, of course mum but, we have things we need to tidy up and finalise back home and Jason here has friends he’d like to say ‘good-bye’ to... so...”

“Yes of course love,” she reached out a placating hand and saw it was shaking a little. “Sorry, you need to do what’s right.”

“Don’t worry Granny, we’ll be back before you know it and then you’ll wish we’d stayed away a bit longer.” I smiled because I wanted to lift the sadness in her eyes and wondered for the first time if perhaps she might not make it until we return. At that thought I was sad as well.


On the drive home I asked mum if Gran’s illness was really that bad, but asked in a roundabout way because I was too scared to say it out loud in case it was.

“Well dear, granny’s diagnosis is terminal but they don’t know how long that will be.”

I felt my heart suddenly drop and found I was fighting unexpected tears. It was silly really because I should have known but I suppose I was caught up with all the preparations aimed at me and hadn’t given enough thought to her.

“Look love I don’t want you to worry...” which was a silly thing to say because as the tears started so did the flood into my nappy. “She’s already confounded the doctors by still being upright and carrying on doing things but it does take its toll.” Mum tried to make light of it but it wasn’t working.

“Is that why she wants me there for my birthday because she doesn’t think she’ll see another one?” I whispered the question, again worried that I might be jinxing things if I said it out aloud.

“Well love, Granny has milestones. Since she was diagnosed she’s used certain points and dates to reach.” I looked at mum and saw it was hard for her to tell me all this. I suppose, because of my anxiety she may well have kept bad news to an absolute minimum. “She thinks by setting these markers it gives her purpose.”

“Is that the real reason she wants us to live with her...”

“Jason, I can’t stress just how much you mean to her, we both mean, but being there even for that short time has lifted her spirit so much. It’s been quite amazing to see just how well she responded to your company...”

Oh mum...” I couldn’t take much more of this news.

Mum reached out and took hold of my hand. I saw a tear in her eye but we drove on in silence. It was a very depressing journey home.

The thing is I was also feeling incredibly guilty. Although the family had made it all about me, there was no doubt that Gran’s state of health would have been obvious to anyone who had eyes. I was so focused on what I wanted it didn’t occur that I was being so self-centred and ignorant to what was going on around me. The fact that none of them had spelled it out was no excuse, I should have been a little bit more sensitive and I hadn’t, as always, it was all about me. The tears fell and when we arrived home I couldn’t wait to go to my old bedroom and finish my shamefaced sobbing.

I was a selfish bastard who only thought about himself.


Mum left me in my bedroom to come to terms with what I now knew and had all but fallen asleep when she came up to say that the first Estate Agent had arrived to put a valuation on the house. I checked I was reasonably OK, splashed water on my face in the bathroom but didn’t have time to change my now uncomfortable and very soggy disposable. Despite the onesie I could feel it heavy and damp as the man and woman checked each room - asking mum what we were leaving and what was going. All the kitchen fittings would stay but everything else would be going into storage or coming with us to the Granny’s.

An hour after they left another one arrived. He was young, very cocky and reminded me of Barnsy, I tried to hide myself away but he was the type who thought getting to know people helped his commission. Anyway, I couldn’t escape when he came into the kitchen where mum had made coffee and offered him a cup. He readily agreed and as we sat at the kitchen table he was gently grilling me about school.

Now I know I look like a Year 8 at times but this got my back up; not that he didn’t know but that he assumed something about me. Anyway, I decided to play along and told him I was off because a teacher in the Sex Education lesson had made me put a ‘johnny’ on.

“Oh, that can be a bit embarrassing,” he took the bait, “putting a condom on a banana?”

“We had no bananas so he used me to show the class how it should fit.” I said as innocently as I could.

“You’re joking,” he laughed nervously “aren’t you?”

I looked over at mum, “Mum says I shouldn’t have but the teacher said I was very good at keeping it on... but the Head wasn’t happy.”

Mum was nodding and sipping her coffee.

I watched as he gulped too much of the hot coffee and had a coughing fit.

“But,” I continued, “I’ve been suspended for running around the classroom with it on and offering everyone a chance to feel what it was like.”

“Can’t return...” mum mumbled over her cup and looked ashamed at me.

“Is that why you’re selling the house?” He timidly enquired.

Mum deftly changed the conversation by saying we intended on leaving all the nice and expensive light fittings... and offered to show him the garden.


“That was fun.” I said once he’d gone.

“Yes, but that was very naughty... we’ll get a reputation.”

“Maybe, but we’re not going to be here so it doesn’t matter.” I’d enjoyed this silly diversion so was able to make that comment without peeing.

“Anyway, his valuation was more than the others so...” mum looked pleased with what we might get for our home.

Another shot of reality hit me and I could feel that weight returning but we were interrupted by a knock on the front door.

“I’ll get it mum but then I’ll need a change.” I warned.

“OK love, I’ll just wash these few things up then we can decide what we want to take with us.”

It was Mark.

I was a bit shocked to see him without Billy but because he was still in his uniform assumed he was just home from school.

“Come in Mark.”

“I saw the car in the drive and hoped you’d be home. We haven’t seen you for a few days and hope all was OK.” Dressed as he was he looked every inch like a schoolboy from a previous decade.

Before I had chance to say we’d been at Granny’s mum popped her head around the kitchen door. ““Oh hello Mark can I get you a drink or anything?”

“Erm, no thanks, I’ll have to be home soon.” He answered and then spoke to me in a whisper. “Things have changed there.”

“Oh,” was my immediate negative reaction but he didn’t look like it was anything bad.

“After we were here last time and went home with our new ‘padding’,” he was still whispering, “mum saw them but didn’t say anything to either of us.  We were very nervous but just pleased to be wearing something so comfortable after the fabric ones we have to wear.” He moved in closer so his secret was safe. “Anyway, unknown to us she bought some exactly the same. They arrived yesterday.” His face lit up in a huge grin.

“Bloody hell,” I managed to get out, “a miracle?”

The only other time I’d seen Mark look this happy was when he and his brother were in my bedroom and trying on all the different disposables.

“We got in after school yesterday and there were two large packages on our beds and when we opened them we were both shocked to discover the identical style that we’d worn here.”

“Bloody hell,” seemed to have become my stock phrase.

He was almost doing a happy little jig, if you can do that whilst sitting down.

“But,” I added a note of disbelief, “weren’t you wearing those cartoon ones and Billy the bright purple...”

“Yes, yes,” he enthused, “and mum found them online and got us some.”

I wriggled in my own full and heavy purple nappy wondering if Mark was in his cartoon ones.

“Are you wearing them now?” I was more than a little astounded by the news but also wanted to see them in all their glory myself.

“No, mum says we should keep them for special occasions so we’re wearing the usual cotton nappies for school. BUT, mum said that because she assumed you’d given us them in the first place then it must be OK for us to wear them as well.”

He shrugged as if he just couldn’t believe his luck.


“Yes, we told you, these days, according to mum and dad, you can do no wrong.” Mark declared excitedly.

Bloody hell!”


Before he went he kept saying how neither Billy nor he could believe it or how pleased their parents had been once they saw how happy and surprised they’d been about their gifts.

“We’ve still got restrictions,” he went on still quite excitable, “and a pile of these cotton nappies but it means we have something to look forward to which we never thought possible.”

All through this I was aware that my soaked disposable was in dire need of a change but was too fascinated in what a volatile Mark looked like. He radiated with enthusiastic excitement.

“Just the thought that we have them and are available...” this time he did do a little jig.

I stopped myself from telling him about selling up and leaving because I didn’t want to bring him down at such news. However, I knew I’d have to tell them both sometime but wanted to be able to back that up with an offer for them to come and stay. For that though, I’d have to talk with Mr and Mrs Edwards face to face.


Mum was busy on the phone organising things by the time Mark left and, as I didn’t want to disturb her, I went up to change myself.

I looked around my room and realised that in just a few days this would no longer be mine, my sanctuary and my playground. I looked over at the screen and console where I enjoyed playing video games but had to recognise the fact that I’d had more fun swapping disposables and even playing with the train set than I’d recently had with that particular piece of electronics; the blank screen not enticing me to start the thing up.

It was late afternoon, I’d stripped down, taken a shower and was just deciding what to wear when mum came in.

“Ah sweetheart.” She started checking on the thick fleecy cotton nappies, more or less to get me ready for bed, but checked herself for a moment. “I know it’s relatively early but are you OK with me getting you ready for bed to save time later?”

“Mum I can do it myself... you just get on with whatever it is you were organising.”

“Done that now, there’s a truck’s coming on Tuesday to pack up what we’re not taking to put in storage for the time being. Then there’s Mr Grant coming with a smaller van for the stuff we want at Granny’s. So, everything needs to be packed Sunday night at the latest.”

She said all this whilst folding the nappy and searching for a couple of soakers to go in it. I was holding the cream and powder which she relieved me of and pointed that I should lie out.

Again I was a bit surprised at how quickly mum worked and just how quickly she could organise things. I mean, I’ve lived here my whole life so it was a bit of a wrench to make such permanent decisions but mum was all action and had things under control and arranged. She was very impressive.

“There are a few empty boxes out in the garage to use as well as the suitcases for the more personal stuff. You just sort out you clothes, nappies, toys and any other thingamabobs you think you’ll need. Leave all the other stuff to me because we actually need very little.”

As she spoke she’d already rubbed in anti-nappy rash cream and was haphazardly dusting the area with talc.

“I’ll put my laptop and computer games in the red case...bllluuuchhh,” I tried to clear my throat as some stray powder drifted there. “I suppose I can put some of my books in there as well.”

Meanwhile, as I coughed a little more, mum was slipping a large soft cotton nappy under my bum as we continued with our conversation.

“Yes well, it’s an opportunity to get rid of things you don’t need and to give yourself a fresh start.”

She added the extra soaker pads which spread my thighs a bit. I wasn’t sure just how much I could lose of but she was right, it was an opportunity to rid myself of those things I didn’t really need any more.

“So, when are we going back?” I wanted to know.

She had a couple of pins in her mouth.


She quickly pulled the corners of the fabric and pinned them tightly together.

“So soon?” I was joking because I had no idea what day she’d said.

She nodded and flapped out a pair of clear plastic pants.

“Legs,” she directed and I lifted for her to shimmy them up and over the nice cottony bulk.

“Right,” she said as she let the elastic waistband snap against my tummy (thwack), “that’s one less thing to worry about. Now, I need your advice on what we need to take or store.”

We made a great team and although in some ways I was sad to have to do this mum kept up a humorous discourse on the chance to lose some of the rubbish we’d collected over the years. So for the next few hours we went from room to room, drawer to drawer, cupboard to cupboard marking what we were planning on taking back to Granny’s on Tuesday (yes I decided she meant Tuesday).

Mum patting my slippery bottom once every room was checked. They were moments, especially when she looked in a photo album and saw pictures of dad, her and me on holiday, when we got a bit misty-eyed and stopped for a cuddle. She rubbed my thick padding and told me that everything was going to be alright.

She’d said this phrase a number of times over the past few weeks and wasn’t sure why.

# tbc #


Part 27

Everything’s going to be alright.

Why wouldn’t it?

Was I reading too much into a simple expression of compassion?

If so, why had it found a nagging space in my head and taken up occupancy?


I was charging around following mum in what seems to have become my uniform. She’d made no effort to make sure I had pants on and to be honest it didn’t really bother me much either. For me, once plastic pants were on and holding everything in place, it was as good as wearing shorts anyway. Well that’s as I saw it.

She asked about Mark’s visit and, because I wasn’t sure how much, if any, of what was said she knew about I told her the latest development in the Edward’s household.

“Good heavens,” mum concluded, “you’ve certainly made your mark there.”

I wasn’t sure if she was making a pun about Mark’s name but as she just carried on checking drawers so I didn’t comment further.

“Mum, I want to invite the boys up to Granny’s to stay a while... do you think she’d be able to cope with visitors?”

“I don’t know love but I’m sure she’d make them welcome, in fact, any friend of yours would be made welcome.”

I think she’d forgotten for the moment that I no longer had a boyfriend, my old school mates were either going off to Uni or working full time so was a bit low on ‘friends’.

I sort of nodded in agreement but knew that I’d have to think carefully before I did such a thing as have sleepovers but mum had carried on speaking.

“...and of course you’d need to get their parents agreement. Do you think they’d do that?”

In fact, ‘sleepovers’ had me chortling to myself... nineteen and thinking about sleepovers... and getting excited about the idea.

“Well, I’m not sure but according to the Mark, his mum and dad are besotted with me and think I’m a good influence on them so...”

Mmmm, so maybe then?”

“Well, I can ask and... umm... it won’t be for a while yet because they’re in school and the end of term isn’t for some time.”

Then mum had a thought. “Shouldn’t Billy be going off to Uni any time soon?”

“No, sore point, he failed his A-levels and his parents insist he stays on until he gets them.”

“I can imagine that didn’t go down well...”

“No it didn’t. I think it was a protest. I think he failed on purpose but he wouldn’t admit to that... not even to me.”

Mum nodded but I sighed.

“Billy’s a bright lad but sometimes, well, maybe he just picks the wrong thing to pick a fight about. However,” I added on a hopeful note, “according to Mark things are better.”

“Oh dear, I hope you... erm,” she changed the subject “I guess you didn’t tell Mark your news.

I have no idea what her hope was but answered anyway.

“No, he seemed so happy I didn’t want to upset him but... I’ll pop round tomorrow and have a chat... and with their parents.”

Mum saw me shrug and heard another different sigh I didn’t mean to let escape.

“Look love... I know this is a major upheaval for you, for us both, but I think it’s the right move at the right time.”

“I, mmmm,” I shrugged “I guess but I’m really going to miss my friends...”

Mum pulled me in for a reassuring cuddle and of course a pat on my slippery fabric bum.

“Everything’s going to be alright love, you’ll see.”

That ‘pat’ on the bum is always reassuring; I suppose it’s because of the distinctive sound of skin slapping plastic. Well, maybe not but it’s special to me because I associate so many other emotions with it. Daft eh?


I’d left my phone by the side of the bed so when I went up I was surprised to see another message from Terry.

                              Dick hard - need tight place to shove it.

Well one thing you can say about the man is he’s pretty direct. I saw that the message arrived over two hours earlier but, as I lay out on my bed fondling the huge silky heap of nappy and plastic I thought once more about what we’d done and what we might do again. Within seconds I’d made a mess and the greasy deposit felt weirdly nice as I rubbed it into my cock through the layers of material. I don’t quite remember how many times throughout the night that happened but I had one slimy and soggy nappy by morning.


Despite my frenzied night I wasn’t sure if I should meet or even reply to his text. I was moving away so wouldn’t have to see him again but also thought it might be a bad idea to return to the scene of the crime – cheating on Tom. However, as Tom and I were no longer an item... perhaps?

Whilst I lay there enjoying the slippery bulk of my vinyl-wrapped nappy I allowed myself to wonder - what if? I mean, last time we shagged it was at Tom’s place and were unencumbered by restrictions. The noises I’d made, the blustering encouragement from him, and the size of his dick had made for a pretty wild ride... a few times. I was very enthusiastic myself, it was like I’d found a new toy that I liked so kept playing with it over and over again.

However, doubted I could invite him here in the days we had left and, doubted even more, that we could go to his. And, although mum said Granny would welcome anyone to her house I thought that a beefy guy like Terry shagging her ‘innocent’ grandson might be taking too much for granted. Thinking of the other ‘problem’, did I want to come between him and his wife just for the sake of a quick (or not so quick) fumble? Maybe, it was best to let sleeping dogs lie and start afresh up in the Lakes. It seemed that these days my lust was more in my head than in any form of actual sexual interaction.

Then a parallel thought hit me – where was I going to make friends? Here I’d been at school with the friends I had but once I moved there... I didn’t have a job so how the hell was I going to meet people? I stopped rubbing my plasticky mound because a touch of depressed realisation took over and felt a spurt of dejected pee join the rest of my well-greased padding.


”Morning love,” mum was her usual upbeat self as she awkwardly came into my room juggling some boxes, “thought you might need these to start packing your clothes, nappies and stuff...”

I was still under the covers but no doubt she had at least a suspicion I was soaked.

She fished something out of her pocket and brandished them in the air.

“Blue stickers for leave, green stickers for go, OK?” she put them on the dresser. “Just slap one on the boxes or items and it will make sorting that much easier rather than re-checking every time.

She checked through one of the piles of nappies.

“We can leave a few out,” she said sorting out both a couple of fabric and disposables for the next couple of days. “Are you getting up or staying there?” She smiled but had the expression that meant - get up and start helping.

I don’t know why but until then I’d not given much thought about meeting new people. “Mum, where am I going to meet people or make friends when we move and what am I going to do for work?”

She looked a bit surprised at my question, no doubt detecting the concern in my voice but gave it a bit of thought.

“I’m not sure love but the place is always full of visitors and I’m certain you’ll have no problem finding friends.” However, I could tell she was a little bit doubtful about her answer because she quickly changed the subject. “Look love, we need to make a start on this packing business so why don’t you get changed and give me a hand, eh?”

“OK, just leave the boxes and I’ll start in here.”

Mum exited quickly and left me to sort myself out, which I was quite grateful for. I didn’t want her to examine what was in my nappy... I’d have been more than a little ashamed.


I cleaned myself up; put on one of the disposables mum had left out and, as I planned on visiting the Billy and Mark, found a jumper and some jeans to finish off. The jeans were quite tight and felt a bit uncomfortable, it would appear that I’d become used to wandering around in just a nappy and plastic pants with an occasional pair of shorts. Anyway, I thought I’d look more adult when talking to their parents if I wasn’t wearing just a nappy.

Meanwhile the boxes began to fill. I planned on taking all my clothes but was surprised that I had so many and loads I hadn’t worn for ages. I suspect, because I was working and getting a bit older I’d just preferred other styles and was amazed at how much of the younger stuff I’d kept. I didn’t think I was keeping it on purpose just forgot to get rid I suppose? Anyway, I put it on a different pile because mum said she’d take clothes and other things to the charity shops so they’d have another life. Once full, I left the colour-coded boxes in my room and went to sort out the garage which had tons of old crap stored there. Of course, we didn’t need any of it.

Mum decided that instead of putting it all in storage, as we weren’t taking that much, even our beds we didn’t need, she’d get a house clearance company to come on Tuesday morning and empty the place before we set off. Meanwhile, she’d contacted the Estate Agent and a House for Sale sign would also be set in the front garden and people would be able to view the empty house from Wednesday... that was the plan. Once she’d made that decision, we relaxed a bit realising that a lot of the heavy work would be done by the clearance people.

I went out into the back garden and was surprised to see mum pegging out a bunch of my fabric nappies on the line.

“Where have all those come from?”

“Oh yes, apparently I forgot and left a few in the washing machine before we went up to Granny’s. So thought, with those and last night’s I’d get them washed, dried and packed... which reminds me, on second thoughts you need to wear only disposables whilst we’re here. Don’t want to be washing any more before we go.”

The large white fabric squares were caught in the light breeze, whilst a couple of pairs of plastic pants hung motionless at the far end of the washing line. There wasn’t the slightest trace of embarrassment on my part with these objects of childishness... they were just a measure of my night time necessity.

“OK, that makes sense. I’ll pack the ones left out and grab a couple of others for...”

“Yes love you do that,” she looked me up and down. “Are you going somewhere?”

“The Edwards’s car’s back in the drive so thought I’d see if the boys are in and tell them the news.”

“OK then, good luck...” not knowing what the reception was going to be like she smiled a hopeful smile.

As I left a van drew up and it was Mr Grant who I suppose had come to discuss things with mum. I said “Hi” and set off.

I was nervous as I always appeared to be when talking to their mum or dad. I felt the first dribble into my nappy. “Oh God I hope this isn’t going to be an emotional disaster” I thought to myself as I walked the final few yards to their front door.


“Oh hello Jason,” it was Mr Edwards who answered my knock. “The boys are helping their mother unpack the week’s shopping in the kitchen. Hold on I’ll go and get them.” He opened the door and beckoned me in.

I was trying to work out exactly what I wanted to say and how but could hear laughter coming from the direction of the kitchen and hadn’t heard a lot of that in this house before. Now I was really nervous about telling them I was leaving and another spurt joined the last.

Billy came out chuckling about something, but as always these days looking like he was just back from church dressed in shorts, jumper and neatly combed hair.

“Hi Jase, great to see you, where’ve you been?” He came over and gave me a hug.

“Oh, erm, up at Granny’s place in the Lakes.”

“Very nice, only ever been up there once and thought it was wonderful. Dad you remember that trip don’t you?”

There was a relaxed atmosphere that I’d never experienced here before but it was really nice to see.

“Yes, we stayed at The Grove bed & breakfast if I remember correctly... an old witch of a woman ran it but the rooms and food were excellent.” He laughed at the memory and so did the Billy. “Do you know if the The Grove is still there by any chance?”

“Sorry,” I had no idea, “doesn’t ring any bells but there’s no shortage of places.”

“No, suppose not,” Mr Edwards mumbled with a touch of disappointment.

Mrs Edwards popped her head around the kitchen doorway hugging Mark.

“Hello Jason, lovely to see you again,” she too was smiling but I wasn’t used to seeing all the family together and looking so... jovial.

“To what honour do we owe this visit?” Mr Edwards asked.

Still trying to take in this incredible turn-around I was taken off-guard by such a direct question, again, another spurt helped dampen the situation for me.

“Erm, well, my Granny is quite ill and mum wants to spend more time up there with her so...”

“Are you going to be away for long?” Mark asked anxiously.

“Well, we’re moving up there to live with her and aunty.” I said trying not to look at the disappointment on Mark’s face. I was surprised to see them all look a bit distressed at my news.

However, Mrs Edwards quickly tried to change her expression. “When might you be leaving us?”

“Well,” I interrupted a bit too urgently, “mum has already put the house up for sale, and the movers are going to be here on Tuesday... so... I’m only here for...”

Billy came over and was almost in tears. “Oh Jase,” he hugged me tightly, “why do you have to go?”

“Now, now William,” his father said, “Jason has family to think about and if his granny isn’t well then perhaps it will be nice for her to have him around.”

“Yes Mr Edwards that’s true but I also wanted to ask if it would be OK for the boys to come up and visit me some time... I’d hate not to see them, erm, everyone again?”

By this time Mark had joined Billy in a hug and my hand automatically patted their thickly padded bottoms as they also tapped mine.

“Sorry guys,” I whispered to them, “it’s all been so sudden but they’ve made me a lovely...”

I was going to tell them about my bedroom and all the nappies we’d be able to play with but thought better of it in front of their mother and father.

I looked up to Mrs Edwards hoping for a positive answer but she looked a bit lost, this was not the woman I’d grown up scared of.

“Have you given up your job or is there somewhere near your gran’s...”

“No, I’ve left Collin’s... erm... my probationary period was coming to an end and I wasn’t enjoying it as much as I hoped, so...”

“Oh that seems a shame especially when they were happy for you to wear your nappies there...”

I don’t know why she brought that up but I just agreed with her. “Yes, that’s true but there’s always someone who wants to be a jerk about that and I met that person so...”

“So, the timing has worked out?” Mr Edwards intervened.

“Surprisingly yes,” I could feel both Billy and Mark squeeze my padding.

“Please don’t go.” Mark whispered in my ear.

“Sorry, but I don’t have a choice. However, I’d love it if you two were regular visitors.” I looked up to Mrs Edwards hoping to get an affirmative answer.

The atmosphere in the room had changed so dramatically from one of cheer to one of sadness and I couldn’t believe I was the cause.

“Well, the boys have school so...” she looked briefly at Billy.

“Yes but I’d love it if they could come up during breaks...”

“Well,” Mr Edwards spoke at last, “I suppose it would give their mother and I a break for a day or two so... why not?”

The boys let out a “Yeah” and hugged me even tighter.

“Fantastic.” I replied relieved that at least they would consider it but for some reason another trickle of pee joined the rest. My lovely disposable was getting quite solid with what had dribbled out of me and been soaked up by the thirsty material.

“Mum can we show Jase our, umm, presents please?” Mark said excitedly.

She took a moment to think about it.

“Well, it was his idea so I don’t see why not. You boys need to thank Jason for all he’s done for you. If it wasn’t for his joy of nappies you boys wouldn’t be wearing them now so... off you go.”

At her words a chill ran down my back and the weight of my nappy increased. Mark was still quite enthusiastic and pulled me towards the stairs and their bedroom but I noticed Billy had grasped what their mother had just implied and pulled slightly away.


When we got to the bedroom Mark was quick to pull out his package of disposables and show them off. When he bent down to grab them from under his bed I could see the fabric nappy and plastic pants appear above the waistline. His brother had done another fine job of putting him in protection.

Of course when the boys had fitted me in one they’d done a fine job and an experience I’d remember for quite some time.

He displayed one of his disposables and it was the cartoon style like the one he wore as he left our fantastic nappy session. I was thrilled. I also knew from experience that they were fluffy and thick and absorbed an awful lot before you needed to change. It had been a good choice.

“When are you allowed to wear these,” I asked with interest.

“Only on special occasions,” he held it out for my inspection.

“Yes I love this style as well... hope you get to wear them a bit more often.” Then I had a thought. “Do your mum and dad like to see you wearing them?”

“Yes, I think so because otherwise they wouldn’t have bought them but... mum sees them as “an extravagance” so that’s why we’re restricted in when we can wear them. However, when we got them, she was keen to see how they looked on us. Weirdly, she seemed as pleased as we were... though in truth we were both a bit nervous about appearing in just a nappy. However, once we had them on,” he mimicked a click, “she took a photo and said she’d keep that to remind her of what wonderful boys we’d become.”

I shrugged because it seemed a strange thing to say ...what wonderful boys they’d become.

Meanwhile, Billy was standing in the doorway listening to what was being said.

“What did mum mean that it’s thanks to you we’re wearing nappies now?

“I’m not sure but has she not explained it to either of you?” I was playing for time to think of a justification.

“No, one day she just took away all our underwear and said that from then on we’d be in nappies... and if we didn’t like it to take it up with dad as he had a sure fire way of making us understand. We knew what that meant so... did as instructed.”

“I thought I’d already told you this but...”

So, as much as I could I explained to them about the conversation I had with her about what she’d spied on our washing line. I even pointed out that if they looked now they’d see another batch fluttering in the wind. However, Billy still looked quite distrustful of what I was saying so added about his mum seeing the nappies, liking how mum and I got on and decided that perhaps to replicate our relationship – “’d all get on better if you wore nappies as well”.

“So, it’s because of you?” Billy looked irritated.

“Well no, I mean, she saw what I wore but I didn’t suggest you should also...”

“Oh God, Oh God,” Billy cried in frustration, “we’ve played straight into her hands.”

“What do you mean,” Mark wanted to know.

“We came back from Jase’s place excited about his collection of disposables and wearing them... she now thinks we want to wear them.”

“Don’t we?” Mark wondered.

Billy shrugged and looked at me. “You really like your nappies don’t you?”

“Yes of course... and I wanted, WANT to share that with both of you. Like I’ve said before, if you have to wear a nappy at least have some fun and enjoyment with it.”

“What if you don’t want to wear a nappy, what then?” he asked annoyed with the way the exchange had gone.

“Billy, Mark, I don’t have a say in what you wear but all I can do is, if you have to wear them, at least try and make it nice for yourselves. As I’ve said before I think it’s great that you brothers look out for each other and I wish I had that but I don’t... I have mum.”

I could see Billy fighting with his own thoughts because he had a grimace on his face I’d never seen before and a sort of strangled “Aarrrggg” of resentment and lost hope escaped from somewhere deep in his throat.

Despite this sound I carried on. “However, what I can do is share my experience and pleasure with you and hope you might find that of some use.”

I hope I wasn’t sounding preachy but I was sincere... I didn’t like the lads because they wore nappies I’d always liked them... even when their parents saw them as nothing but trouble and a couple of young tearaways. We’d been friends for years so why was he doubting me now?

“I think we walked into a trap Mark...” Billy was trying to keep some kind of control over his feelings. “Mum and dad want us in nappies and now know that by giving us these...” He ran out of wind but was shaking one of Mark’s cartoon disposables.

I could see he felt angry and deceived but hoped he realised it wasn’t my fault. I needed to get him to appreciate that fact and how things were now.

“Tell me Mark,” I asked, “you said that things had changed at home, yes?”

He nodded.

“Then is that change for the better or worse?”


“Are things better between you and your mum and dad or worse?”


I looked across at Billy who was sitting on his bed and I could see the padding struggling to be contained by his shorts. The thing was I was distracted by the view and mumbled a bit before I could string the words I wanted to say together.

“I didn’t put you in a nappy that’s down to your parents. I wear nappies because I have anxiety issues (the sodden nappy I was wearing being the proof if proof was needed) they put you into them for their own reasons. Nevertheless, when you were over at my house the other day and we just messed around with mine both you guys had never seemed so stress-free. Somewhere, somehow, something has happened... is it not better to be happy in nappies than angry and restricted with things as they used to be?”

I didn’t want to justify their parent’s decision because that had nothing to do with me but I wanted them to grasp that they didn’t have to ‘suffer’ because of it. They could, and had, enjoyed wearing nappies when they had a choice - at my house, in my bedroom, I didn’t force them... nobody had.

Billy looked across at his brother who appeared a bit confused by the conversation.

I wasn’t certain if that stream of words made any sense to either of them but I wasn’t prepared to take the blame for something I hadn’t done... not on this occasion anyway. Billy and Mark were probably my best friends and I didn’t want to lose them.

I have to admit on a personal level seeing them now, with their padding just peeking into view, they looked amazing and not for the first time wondered if it was something their parents appreciated as well.

Maybe it was weird that I got distracted by that glimpse of padding and plastic but I couldn’t help thinking how great it was to have a brother who not only put you in a nappy but was so conscientious enough that he made sure you were wrapped up nice and comfy.

Hell these lads do something to my head. I sincerely hope I don’t lose their friendship.

I saw Billy shrug so, although I wanted to stay, thought that was my cue to leave.


As I was about to open the front door Mrs Edwards caught up with me.

“Sorry you’re leaving the area, we’ll miss you... and I know we’ve been a little scary at times but our boys needed firm discipline.” She looked across at Mr Edwards who nodded in support. “You and your nappies showed us a different, softer way... and it’s worked.”

“I’m not so sure.” I said thinking about Billy’s last resentful shrug.

“You know Jason,” she was thinking whether to continue, “over the last few weeks Mr Edwards and I have found ourselves doing and saying things we’d never considered before.” She paused to see Mr Edwards nodding. “You have taken us by surprise with your openness and honesty... not like any of the boys’ other friends...”

I wasn’t sure where this was going, as often seemed the case, but she continued.

“There were some developments I... sorry... we... just weren’t ready for and it was all down to that honesty of yours.”


“We copied what we thought you and your mother’s relationship was like. We assumed a great deal and hoped our interpretation would work but you kept pushing the boundaries.”

Sorry?” I was apologising but didn’t know what for.

“No need to be sorry Jason. You pushed us to act quickly even when we weren’t ready and didn’t think they,” her eyes indicated she was talking about Billy and Mark, “were ready either. However, the disposables you had the boys wear, and the surprise to us that they seemed to want to wear them, was quite the eye-opener.”

I looked over at Mr Edwards whose facial expression was one of complete agreement with his wife.

I didn’t know what to say but mumbled something anyway. “I just thought... maybe... they might want to have fun or something...”

“That was it,” she beamed across at me, “the piece we were missing... FUN.” She looked like she’d just discovered the answer to the world’s problems. “We forgot, or more especially, hadn’t realised that was an important aspect of how you cope.”

“I’m not sure that’s the same for...” but Mrs Edwards interrupted my defence.

“You weren’t here when we showed them their new disposables... both their faces lit up and for the first time in perhaps ever there was an understanding between us.” She smiled at this breakthrough. “I have no intention of going back to those bad old days...”

“Erm, OK but...” I was almost out of the door when she finished her speech.

“Good-luck Jason and thanks again... and I’m sure the boys will be only too pleased to come and visit when they can.”

I wandered back home with a very weighty nappy gripped too tightly by my restricting jeans. As I ran my hand over my bulked-out material I thought about Mrs Edwards’ use of words... a softer way and wondered if that was how the boys saw their situation.

However, I was appreciating my heavy disposable as I walked and even that solid it was giving me something that underpants never could... a sense of absolute security.

Nappies wouldn’t let me or anyone else down in a crisis.

# tbc #

Part 28

As I sauntered home other thoughts inevitably emerged, for instance; after we left this neighbourhood would I ever see the boys again? Despite Mrs Edwards’s assurance I didn’t feel Billy was thinking the same way about his situation. I suppose it was my own selfishness that made me happy the boys were made to wear nappies. I liked the idea it wasn’t just me and I thought, after the fun we’d had trying on all the different styles that they’d also found some kind of appreciation for them. Maybe I was deluding myself and they were just humouring me or simply needed a break from their more regimented home life.  Although, after the look of anger on his face maybe it had come to a turning point for Billy and he’d no longer be part of the direction his parents were forcing him and Mark to take?

After what their mother had said I think for the first time ever I was siding with the boy’s parents. They’d got them all to a state where there was some kind of understanding in that household where, as far as I’d ever witnessed, there had never been before. I’m not sure if I’d use the term happiness but certainly there was a huge shift in the atmosphere... a more positive shift.

Before... that was the thing... that was the word... before what? Nappies!

Nappies had made the difference and no matter how much Billy might dislike that fact, it was obviously true. Mark was now the one who had no problem with them and, up until my visit, I thought Billy was the same. However, it was a thoughtless comment from their mother that had caused the shift so, as I wasn’t going to be around, it would have to be her to sort it. I only hoped that Billy would see how things had been recently and how much better it was for them all than the alternative. However, I knew he had a wild and often belligerent streak which had been kept in check. Would he release it once he was eighteen in a few days’ time?

I know it was a selfish expectation but I was hoping that both lads would end up like me and just love nappies – the fun, the fit and the delight in their thick comfort. I thought I’d seen them developing in that direction but perhaps it was my giving it more emphasis than they were.


Mum was on the phone when I got in. She was explaining something to somebody that it all needed to be done by Tuesday morning. As Saturday was fast disappearing I realised once again just what a tight schedule mum had made for us. I suppose it was so that ‘second thoughts’ wouldn’t distract us and that dragging out the inevitable was a daft thing to do.

“A clean break and then we can all live our lives as we should...” was something I heard Gran say to mum at one point. There was no disagreement and once they saw me listening changed the subject.

In some moments of reflection I was dreading the move, There were few neighbours who I  hardly knew and I didn’t have a job to go to. Gran had quite happily said that I didn’t need a job as, “...we have enough money to survive”, which was delivered with a wink. This didn’t help and yet at other times I thought she was right, this was the best, most opportune moment to start again. Gran was insistent that it was the best move for me and for everyone and should have happened several years back. When she changed my nappy and I was sucking on a dummy, it was hard not to agree.


Mr Grant arrived with his Transit van and, under mum’s supervision, was loading various items into the back. I thought he was going to be coming up with us on Tuesday but, as mum pointed out when she got off the phone that he wasn’t now able to do that run on that day and was only available to take things up now.

He slammed the rear doors closed and said he’d be off and deliver them to Gran’s place.

Mum nodded and watched him depart down the road and then turned to me.

“Now we’ve re-thought what to do things are happening fast sweetie. So, that’s most of the items we want to keep on their way and the rest can fit in the car when we drive up... now... right, oh yes, how did your chat go with...?”

“Not sure.”

“Well you don’t sound very enthusiastic... have they said they won’t come?” She looked concerned.

“Not exactly but Mrs Edwards said something that might make it all a bit iffy.”

“Iffy, eh? Well I’m sure they’ll be able to sort out whatever that is... you’re pretty good mates after all.”

“S’pose so... let’s hope, eh?” I wasn’t convinced.


I went up to my bedroom and noticed that all the boxes, suitcases and bags that I’d labelled had been removed and it looked very bare and unwelcoming, which has never been the case before. I struggled out of the tightness of my jeans; it had been an uncomfortable encounter wearing them over my padding and was glad to shrug them off.

When I checked I was more soaked than anticipated and needed a change but was still a little depressed about my brief encounter with Billy. Still, lying on top of my bed were several of the disposables mum had left out and, after a quick wipe down in the bathroom, eagerly found some comfort in the soft and welcoming folds of that multi-layered fabric with happy bears running around.

I heard myself sigh as I appreciated the nappy’s soft, fluffy support and was so glad to feel the tension I’d felt at the Edwards’s begin to lift (cute cartoon characters will do that). My dum-dum was in my bedside drawer so that was the next step, a t-shirt and finally to re-use the pair of plastic pants I’d worn for my trip to see the boys. They were still nicely malleable from the heat of my body so slipped up over everything with a soft swish.

I heard mum calling from downstairs so as this now seemed to be my regular outfit waddled down to see what she wanted. After the restriction of my jeans, this felt the right thing to wear because it was so cosy and, to me at least, friendly.

“Ah, there you are love,” she smiled, “Look, whilst you were over having your chat, between us, Mr Grant and I have managed to get rid of quite a few of those items we didn’t want and dropped them off at various charity shops and the shelter for the homeless, OK?” She waited for some response from me but I simply sucked on my dummy, it was so relaxing I didn’t really want to get involved as mum was doing such a great job without me. “Meanwhile, the rest of the stuff is on its way up to the Lakes so that’s one less thing to worry about.” She let out a huge sigh, which I think meant that most of the work was done.

She saw me looking a bit disconnected and came over for a reassuring hug... with the obligatory pat on my padded bum.

“I know things seem to be happening quickly love but don’t worry, everything’s going to be alright.”


Next week would be Billy’s birthday, eighteen and in law at least regarded as an adult. I wondered if he was going to celebrate that significant landmark or if his parents might have other ideas. Unfortunately I wasn’t going to be around but thought about sending him a card with the invitation (and reminder) to visit, I still wanted his friendship. However, I was uncertain how he now felt about me and just hoped that any animosity he may have wasn’t permanent.

Mum had decided she didn’t want to cook so we ordered in and sat on our sofa with a bucket of KFC and a two litre bottle of Pepsi. The chicken was as succulent as ever but I just love the seasoning and could have simply gorged on that. We sat and ate in front of the TV and watched mum’s favourite detective series. Not sure what it is about mum and dead bodies but there are a few of this type of show she likes. Anyway, she drank wine and I just about finished off the entire bottle of cola. I was so full my tummy bulged out the top of my nappy which had us both tittering with greasy-fingered glee.

Later, feeling both fat and full we started to watch an old comedy, which weirdly was about a family moving house and all the pitfalls that befell them. I hoped none of the silliness and problems of things going missing that dogged their move would echo in ours.

It was approaching midnight by the time we decided to call it a day. My nappy was only slightly damp so decided I didn’t need a change it could wait until the thing was solid and heavy in the morning. As it turned out it was that and more.


I had a very restless night; when asleep I was dreaming, and when awake I was thinking of all sorts of things I just couldn’t shake from my head. One of the dreams, needless to say, involved Billy, except this time we (including Mark) were sorting through my vast selection of disposables. On this occasion Billy hated them all and was cutting each one into pieces and then throwing the bits in the air like confetti. I was crying at the destruction but he wasn’t bothered, he kept saying I deserved it for being a “rotten mate”.

When I did sporadically wake up my mind began to think about our permanent move and how I’d no doubt be kept wearing a nappy and plastic pants all the time. For some reason, the fact I didn’t have a choice both angered and pleased me, which just shows how confused my brain was with the entire situation.

Anyway, when I eventually woke up properly my pillow was soaked in drool, bedding tossed all over the place and my nappy had leaked and I’d wet a huge part of the bedding. Not only that but I’d filled the seat of my nappy and I had no idea why. I was both tired and revolted despite the fact that crapping in my nappy wasn’t the occasional thing it once was. The air was fetid and the view through my window showed that the nice weather had turned a murky grey with the promise of rain not far off.

So, the weather was depressing as was my mood.


Mum had said that I’d come to rely on my nappies and never more so as I waddled to the bathroom. It wasn’t that surprising it leaked seeing as those clever little bears were holding the best part of two litres of re-cycled Pepsi. The disposable was rock hard with the amount it had been able to soak up and hung heavily in its plastic pouch. I looked at myself in the full length mirror on the back of the bathroom door and there was no doubt about it - I wasn’t a working nineteen year old go-getter, I was a nineteen year old baby who desperately needed his mummy to come and sort him out.

I’m not sure how long I just stood there looking at myself and sighing but the thought had hit me as to what would have happened had I not been wearing such an absorbent disposable. What, for instance, would it have been like if I was in underpants or out in public and it had happened? The public would quite rightly demand that this over-grown baby should be kept in nappies and not let out of his mummy’s sight. I was still thinking about this when mum appeared at the door asking if she could help.

“Baby, I’ve just seen the state of your bedroom and wondered if you were having problems...” She came in and patted my full bottom. “Oh love, there’s a tear in the plastic no wonder you leaked onto the bed. Better lose them...” and she began to pull my plastic pants down to release the heavy and gross nappy.

“Mum, I can do it,” I pushed her hand away but it lacked conviction.

“Yes I know baby but, I think all this worry about the move is affecting you more than I hoped. So, this mess,” and she patted the full disposable, “is partly my fault as well so...”

She took control... and as usual was so grateful I didn’t have to think as she cleaned me up and sent me to my bedroom for a change of nappy.


A thick and comfy purple disposable was the answer to my depression. As soon as mum pulled up the matching plastic vinyl pants my mood changed. It was so noticeable that she commented on it.

“So, it’s not just cartoon undies that cheer you up?”

I had to admit that once in a fresh thick nappy most of life’s problems seem to disappear. Well, if not disappear, then become irrelevant to the comfort such an item brings me.

I ran my hands over the slippery cover and was glad of the padding that protected my genitals and softened my bum with layers of super supple fabric. I pulled a plain white t-shirt on and ventured down to the kitchen. We only had either cereal or toast and mum had made a pot of tea so it was quite a speedy affair for Sunday breakfast.

A quick call around my other friends found them all engaged... either with family or at University. I got to speak to Ralph directly but he had other plans though said he was sorry I’d be moving away. I told him he could come visit and he said that was a great idea but, now he was full time at his dad’s grocery business, he hardly had time for anything and that included holidays. I said that the invite was open and just call if he needed a break. He said he was grateful for the offer.

Meanwhile, with James and Killy I just left messages on their phones that I was leaving and hoped they’d get back to me. However, I realised that since I started work (now not a problem) I had more or less ignored my mates from school apart from Billy and Mark. So, maybe they’d moved on and started, like I’d hoped I had with Tom, a new chapter at university.

As I scrolled down my contacts for anyone else to let know of my departure I came to Terry. I paused to think about him and that led to a sudden ejaculation into my lovely, freshly applied nappy. How he could produce such a reaction after just one session I wasn’t sure but did I want him to know I was leaving, or was it fun to get the occasional message telling me just how horny he was?

I started messages to both him and Tom but in the end didn’t send either. I wasn’t sure if I was playing a game or if I just didn’t want my departure to be that final. Anyway, they didn’t get to know that by Tuesday evening I’d be a permanent resident at Granny’s place up in the Lakes.


With the weather being a bit grim it was down to final checking and making the place appear more desirable for any future owner. I had asked mum if she’d thought about renting it out but simply answered she didn’t want all the hassle of a tenant.

I suppose I was hoping for a possible way back if we still owned the house but mum wanted a clean break.

By lunchtime we’d done what we could do and said she was going to drive over to one of her friends and take a few bits and pieces for her to have and did I want to go. I said I’d rather not and she didn’t push it, which I was grateful for. After the experience of wearing jeans over my nappy the day before had really put me off sporting anything that held me that tightly in discomfort. Yes, I’d finally come to the same conclusion as mum, Gran and Aunty, a nappy and plastic pants were what fitted me best and in truth it felt cosy to be dressed that way.

I was also hoping that by some miracle the boys might turn up for another nappy session but of course they’d be disappointed as most had been packed and were possibly now residing at Granny’s place. Still, I’m sure we’d find something fun to do although, with most of my stuff, including my video games, which were also on their way to Grandma’s, we might have to dig deep into our imaginations.

After mum had gone I called the Edwards but as it was a landline it just rang and rang. I looked out and saw the car wasn’t in the drive so they at least had not been worried about a few drops of rain. I wish I’d seen them go to check if they were still wearing nappies, I was sure I’d be able to tell even from that distance. Anyway, the opportunity hadn’t arisen so it was left to my imagination to visualise the scene. Oh heck, the same thing happened as when I thought of Terry... this can’t be right.


As mum said she’d be away a couple of hours I did the rounds of the house again to just check for myself. Even though there was still quite a bit of furniture left, with paintings and knick-knacks all parcelled up and sent on ahead the place didn’t feel as friendly as it used to be. It did feel strange to be leaving a place I’d called home for nineteen years. I had a little weep when I remembered dad and wondered what he’d think of us leaving. However, I’d asked mum that question and she’d just said that wherever we were dad was always with us.

I settled in front of the TV and watched various bits of programmes but just couldn’t settle on any one thing. Finally I arrived at the Cartoon Channel and of course found my mind happy to chuckle along to various characters and their silly antics.

I got a call from Aunty who said that all our stuff had arrived and she’d sorted it and put it in my room. I asked her how Gran was and she said there’d been a slight dip but the fact we were soon coming home (yes she referred to it as home) had made her buck up. Later, Gran came on for a brief chat and said she couldn’t wait for our return because the place “...just wasn’t the same without us.”

After the call I checked the kitchen cupboards and found very little to eat. Of course there was bread, butter, jam, honey, cereal, tea, coffee and milk (in fact quite a lot of milk we’d have to get through) but all the packets and tins had been packed away and sent on ahead. I wanted to make something for when mum returned so she didn’t think I’d just been lazing around watching TV.

I returned to my seat in front of the screen and there was an advert for a new line of nappies for babies (it had an extra protecting leg grip to avoid leaks). I sat and looked down at my own nappy and had to agree that thankfully my plastic pants gave me that extra layer of protection I couldn’t really do without. I wriggled on the sofa, well aware of just how I would look to anyone looking out of the telly at me. At first I thought I’d be embarrassed but ‘NO’, like the baby in the advert, I was just happy to be swaddled in a lovely, comforting nappy. And that baby was bouncing up and down in his newly designed padding so he seemed VERY happy.

Everyone, and when I say everyone I mean mum, Gran and aunty, had all thought the way I dressed at that moment was how I should dress all the time. Not that they’d spoken about it out loud it just seemed to be tacitly agreed. They’d decided in one way or another that I wasn’t ready to grow up and I suppose this preference just confirmed it. I smoothed my hands over the soft and slinky mass and had to agree, if I wasn’t allowed to wear it I wouldn’t be happy. Maybe, just maybe, my family knew best on this point and I should just be content, to be happy?


Mum arrived home having bumped into Mr Grant who said the delivery of our goods had gone to plan (not that we thought it wouldn’t) and envied us going to live in such a beautiful part of the country. Apparently Gran and aunty had made him welcome and plied him with tea and cakes after he’d unloaded our things. He said he didn’t often get such lovely treatment from other clients and told mum that even though we’d be based in the Lake District, if we needed someone with a van, distance was no object and he’d make himself available, which mum thought was very nice of him.

Time had just flown by and I hadn’t realised how late it was. She’d been gone almost six hours not the two anticipated and I’d just pottered around watching TV and generally keeping myself occupied by going to the window to see if I could see Billy and Mark come back from where ever they’d been and possibly catching their attention. Unfortunately, the car wasn’t in the drive so guessed they were out on some epic journey I wasn’t privy to. I got a little bit envious because I was alone and they had each other.

When they’d been here last weekend and we’d had our ‘session’ I’d taken some surreptitious photos with my camera phone. At one point I put it on timer and slipped in between them and was surprised at just how good the picture had come out... and in focus. It had been a bit hit and miss but all three of us were in shot together and all acting naturally playing with a heap of colourful disposables. We looked like we were enjoying the experience so decided that I’d go into town on Monday, find a digital photo shop and have a copy framed as a birthday gift and maybe get a copy for myself.

I told mum the plan and she said that there was a place on the High Street that could do that whilst I waited, which was just what I wanted.

“OK love, what do you fancy for dinner tonight?”

“I searched for something but didn’t realise we’d packed the lot up and sent it on.” I wanted her to know that at least I’d looked.

“Well that’s very thoughtful of you love but do you fancy going out or getting something delivered?”

“I can’t be bothered getting dressed,” I felt my nappy and was surprised to find I was soaked. I think mum could tell from my sudden expression what needed to be done.

“Look, why don’t we order and whilst that’s on its way we can get you changed... OK?”

I nodded. “Well, we’ve had pizza and KFC so how about a couple of Big Macs and fries... and milk shakes?”

“We have plenty of milk... so how about ice cream... no, no... a McFlurry with Galaxy or caramel... mmmmm?”

“Oh mum that sounds so good.”

“Is that a yes?” She teased.

I nodded enthusiastically.

“OK but you’re wearing a bib because I have yet to see you negotiate a Big Mac and not have the mayo or ketchup drip onto your shirt.

It was true so couldn’t really argue.


Mum put in the order and then pointed upstairs to get me cleaned up. Because it was getting late she opted to get me ready for bed and wondered, after the mess I’d made earlier, if perhaps a double disposable might not be a good idea. I said we could try it and see but it was quite thick. However, the white, substantial shiny rubber pants she pulled over it all held it together pretty well.

Almost as soon as we’d finished there was a knock on the door but as mum had gone to wash her hands I waddled downstairs to answer it. There on the doorstep stood the delivery boy who I used to go to school with. He looked me up and down “So the rumours were true” he snarled as if I repulsed him. Then more or less threw the bag at me and without waiting for a tip, trotted down the pathway to his scooter and off he shot.

Being dressed as I was had become so normal to me it hadn’t even crossed my mind when I answered the door that it could be someone who might comment. Still, I wasn’t that bothered, I wasn’t going to be around for much longer so it mattered even less. Besides, the Mackey D's smelled wonderful so that was my main concern.

The bib had been needed because not only had there been drips of the sauces, a large piece of gherkin was also present by the time I’d finished devouring it all. The ice cream treat was wonderful and again I felt full and fat by the end.

“Mum we’re going to be huge by the time we get to Gran’s if we don’t stop going mad with Deliveroo.” I teased as I stroked my belly and finished off the piece or vinegary gherkin.

Then I remembered something I’d heard earlier and forgotten about.

“Mum, who’s autistic?”

# tbc #

Part 29

Mum had filled a glass of milk to help wash down the Big Mac and I clumsily knocked it over myself, the sofa and carpet when she jolted at my question.

“Right,” she said as she dashed off to get a cloth to wipe it all up, “sippy cups and baby bottles for you from now on.”

“Sorry, I’ll...”

She busied herself getting stuff from the kitchen my query forgotten as she proceeded to go into SuperMum mode.

“You just stay where you are I’ll see to it... I don’t want to make it any worse.”

I wasn’t sure what she thought I was planning on doing but was probably correct that my interference would only make the situation worse.

On this occasion my bib hadn’t saved the day and somehow I’d soaked my t-shirt. The liquid had been repelled by my rubber pants (tick) but both the furniture and carpet looked like they needed urgent attention. Thankfully, mum was very speedy.

“OK love,” she wasn’t angry just efficiently getting on with the clean-up, “why not change your shirt whilst I sort this out?”

I didn’t need telling twice and waddled slowly back upstairs to fish out a clean top.

I used a dry bit of the t-shirt to wipe down the water-resistant pants and tossed it into the laundry bin. I had very few clothes left as most had already been sorted and sent on ahead but found something pale blue in one of the drawers and put it on.

I looked in the mirror and laughed to myself. The huge nappy and top I’d decided to wear looked exactly like what the baby was wearing in the nappy advert. “OK,” I thought, “perhaps mum’s right, sippy cups and baby bottles from now on.”


When I returned mum was still gently dabbing away at the carpet with kitchen towel.

“It should be alright... I don’t think there’ll be a stain.” She then smiled benevolently at me. “I knew a glass was asking for trouble and yet stupidly went ahead and poured you one.” I liked that she was blaming herself and not me.

“You weren’t to know how clumsy I’d be.” I tried to take some of the blame back.

She shook her head. “Baby, these days it’s just asking for trouble.”

What did she mean.... these days? Did she think I was now incapable of eating or drinking without making a mess? I mean, had she noticed something I hadn’t or was she just amused that her nappy wearing son had spilled his milk like a little kid?

She looked at the last piece of kitchen towel and saw it was barely damp. “I think that’s all of it.”

There was a pile of soggy pieces of kitchen towel, a sponge and some cleaning product so she’d had a pretty good go at protecting everything but I just shrugged and made myself comfortable on the sofa trying to avoid any damp spots.


I could hear mum in the kitchen tidying up and putting stuff away then I heard the ‘ping’ of the microwave. A moment later she came in with the very thing she’d threatened me with, a baby’s bottle full of milk.

“Here,” she offered it to me, “this’ll calm you down.”

Of course, I’d had a brief moment of panic when I’d spilt the stuff but otherwise I was relatively calm.

I eyed it with suspicion and asked if she was joking.

“Look, your Gran said that she used to give you a bottle of warm milk with honey when you were little and you loved it...”

I suppose mum, Gran and Aunty had spent time discussing the past when she was up there helping out. So no doubt this little nugget had surfaced but why in a bottle now... I’m not a little kid. I tried to move the conversation on.

“Is that why there’s so much milk in the fridge?”

Mum sort of bounced her head from side to side as if to deflect the answer “Maybe.”

“Mum, I’m nineteen in a few days... I think I’m past all this now don’t you?”

“Well love, I’m not sure you are and what’s more, I don’t think you do either.” She was making a point.

She offered the bottle closer but I wasn’t definite what she meant so baulked at taking the nipple between my lips.

“Do you want me to be a baby?” I probed in equal seriousness .

“Do you?” and she pushed the bottle so close that a small droplet leaked out and on to my tongue. I licked and the sweetened milk tasted wonderful.

I opened my mouth to speak again but mum just gently slipped it in “Drink sweetheart... it’s what you need.”

I wasn’t convinced but everything seemed to be aiming to this point and although my head was crying out ‘No’ my reaction was to stop complaining and drink the lovely syrupy offering.

She held it there until I’d got the sucking motion under control and then let me take it from her. She lifted my legs so I was laid out on the sofa and gravity helped as I began to empty the bottle with delight. It was very tasty.

“That’s better.” Mum said once I closed my eyes and she could see I was enjoying the experience. “Your Gran always said it’s a sure-fire way to calm a boy.”

I was too busy nursing on it to offer any further comment and it certainly beat spilling milk all over the place... every drop went into my tummy and not all over the furniture. I had forgotten when I was little how Gran used to get me to drink milk with honey or some other flavouring and just how much I enjoyed it. Granny’s Special Milk she called it and I used to look forward because it was exceptional. This was bringing back some very soothing memories.

Mum made me budge up so she could sit in the corner and let me rest my head in her lap. I did this for a few moments but then slowly manoeuvred me so that I was resting in her arms to suckle on the bottle. In this position she could rock gently and pat my padded bottom. Even though the TV was still playing I heard her softly begin to hum a little tune. I was calmly being returned to the place where I was at my most comfortable. Mum automatically knew this whilst I was happy to slip into that little space she had so recently introduced me to.

Actually, I’d been there many times. It was my favourite place to go where everything was snug and welcoming... I just didn’t know it had a name. I even drifted off for a moment and was surprised that in such a short space of time I dreamt. Daddy and mummy were both there holding me and saying what a sweet baby I was and that I should have no worries because “...everything’s going to be alright”.  

I was content and despite it not being that late could feel myself losing consciousness. I finished the bottle and yawned.

“Bed?” She queried.

I nodded and sat up and she swiftly replaced the bottle with a dummy.

“Right you go and I’ll be up in a minute to tuck you in.”

I just carried on sucking dum-dum and drowsily made my way up to bed. Though I didn’t need tucking in I was in a place that meant I wasn’t against the idea either. Mum could do what she liked I was too tired and relaxed to react.


I was dead to the world before mum must have come into my room. I know this because when I woke up the following morning I was hugging my teddy and that hadn’t been with me when I went to sleep. In fact, I thought I’d put all my toys and such things in a box to go. However, more pressing was the fact that the sweet milk had passed through the system and soaked my thick padding. So it was another damp start to what looked like another damp day.

Somebody once sang ‘I Don’t Like Mondays’ and I could identify with that sentiment. Although I was feeling cosy and warm, there was clinginess in my nappy that made me think I might have done more than simply saturate it. I explored further and found, after releasing the seal my plastic pants had made all around, I had deposited another load in the seat.

I shuffled out of bed, the mess feeling odd as it slipped around my bum and stood there looking at myself in the mirror. Then a thought from the night before that I looked like the baby from the advert, had never seemed more appropriate... you are a BLOODY BABY. Perhaps I now need that extra rib of protection around the leg and waist to prevent anything escaping.

I tried to recollect what dreams I’d had and although I knew I’d had several I couldn’t remember them with much clarity. One did start to come back and that was when I’d crawled into bed between mummy and daddy. I was still a toddler so they were happy to have the intrusion and I squealed in delight as they played with teddy and me. Eventually, I settled down and daddy stroked my belly and made circles with his fingers saying how proud he was of his sweet baby boy, and that made me happy.

O-ho... that’s when I’d filled my nappy - daddy’s fingers rubbing my tummy invariably induced a little bit of wind... and occasionally more. So, despite being ‘a sweet baby boy’ I still had a package in the seat of my padding that needed to be unloaded both in my dream and now, so lumbered to the bathroom to sort it out.

Although I could hear mum going about her business downstairs she’d left out all the things I’d need in the bathroom as if she already knew what had happened. Maybe she had or she might have just been assuming, seeing as it was now becoming a more frequent occurrence. Anyway, I was grateful that I didn’t have to search around for anything and a clean nappy and fresh plastic pants were ready after I’d taken a shower.

It was a thick pink disposable with matching cover, so, when I returned to my bedroom already wrapped in them, mum had been up and laid out a pair of loose grey jogging bottoms and fleecy jumper. I remembered her saying that she wanted to make an early start today as she had things in town to organise and she’d drop me off so I could sort out the photo.


On the trip into town she kept asking if I was excited at making the move permanent. I said I wasn’t sure but at least with such a tight timetable I knew where I stood. I was also scrolling through the photos I’d taken of Billy and Mark and would have liked copies of them all but decided to do what I’d planned first and maybe at a later date print out the others. I didn’t know why I hadn’t transferred them to my laptop yet... I’d make sure to do that later.

We parked up and mum said that I should meet her back at the car in two hours. I wasn’t sure how long my side of things would take because I also wanted to get Billy a card so in the end we settled to meet in the café opposite. Then, if one of us was late at least we could sit in relative comfort and have a cup of tea or something.

Mum was planning on visiting the Estate Agent that was dealing with the sale and also wanted to sort out deeds and transfers at the bank, followed by a trip to our solicitors. She had a very busy schedule but went in the opposite direction to me as I sauntered along the High Street aiming for the Photo Shop.

I loved the way my padding was holding everything tightly and appreciated the subtle rustling sound and thrilling sensation with each step. Because it was such a dull day and a bit cooler than it had been mum had of course got out my loose fleecy bottoms to hide the padding whilst out in public. However, I really wished I’d worn shorts as I always feel better if my legs aren’t encased... I suppose that’s why I’d taken to wearing just protection and little else these days.  When I thought about it, not only have I been encouraged to just wear a nappy about the house, more often than not it was what I preferred. No wonder mum had taken to regularly calling me ‘baby’, though it hadn’t registered until that moment. However, the thickness of my padding between my legs, and the rub of it all against my ‘equipment’ meant it was very pleasing and I really wouldn’t have wanted any other stimulation ‘down there’.

On my way I passed a ‘greetings card and novelty’ shop and stopped to see what their selection was like. It was huge, with special offers of ‘four for the price of three’ and large cards with balloons attached for those ‘special occasions’. They had comic, anniversary, sympathy and congratulations as well as the usual Happy Birthday type card sections but now came the big decision; did I want funny or serious?

Strangely, what seemed a simple task took quite some time and I went around the store, from the humorous section to cards with ages and... well... the massive variety was making me most indecisive. I was even distracted by the novelty items on display of snow globes, ornaments, spoons(?) and specially prepared smelly lotions ‘for the one you love’. Anyway, I was in there for over half an hour trying to get the right card to express my feelings without it being too soppy or stupid. Eventually I found a Special Occasion pile and sorted through them and found one with no message inside. However, what it did have was a nice hand drawn outline image of two faces and the words For a friend, which I thought appropriate without being sickly.


Then it was on to the Photo Shop and was surprised to find it so busy. I suppose it was the people who had special occasions over the weekend desperate to get their mementos like me out of their cameras and onto something more substantial. The machines that printed out the pictures were all being used so whilst waiting my turn asked about their offer to frame the results.

Of course there was a vast array of ways and means of presentation; from simple frames, photos encased in plastic or rendered on canvas... the list was inspiring but was going to be more expensive than I thought. However, I had money so decided Billy was worth it providing the job could be done straight away. The nice lady assistant said that it could be done in about an hour so I could wait or come back. As happened a machine came free and she helped upload the desired shot from my phone.

“Well those boys seemed to be having fun,” she commented as the image appeared on the screen for checking, though I don’t think she realised I was one of them. “What a lovely, happy and natural photo.”

I quite liked her comment.

Once the 10”x 8” was printed out and I was satisfied with the couple of little extra flourishes she made on the filter and I’d chosen the shiny chrome frame, I left her to get on with the job, whilst I went off to explore other stores.


As I walked along thinking how nice my padding was feeling I almost walked past Jimmy Floyd who worked in the same department as Tom and I at Collins.

“Hi Jason,” he stopped and I suddenly recognised him.

“Oh hi Jimmy, how’s things?” I wasn’t really there for a chat but I’m not the type who ignores folk so stood and waited for him to tell me any gossip there was about me, or to ridicule me about what he’d heard. I was expecting the worst but he seemed to have other things on his mind.

“God Jase, don’t know how you did it but your timing couldn’t have been better.”

Now he had my interest.

“Yes, you and Tynan seemed to have got out just in time.”

“What do you mean?” I was intrigued.

“Yes, it appears that the company is about to be taken over by a Dutch conglomerate and we ALL might be out of a job soon. You two choose a bloody good time to leave...”

“What?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I also didn’t know if by that he meant Tom had left the company or just moved to London like he’d inferred in his text.

“Yes, we’ve all been informed there will be redundancies and everyone is under scrutiny and those who can’t or don’t want to move to the London Head Office, which is just about everyone... who the hell can afford those house prices...”

“Good grief,” I interrupted his flow, “I bet that’s come as a bit of a shock?”

“Yes, and that awful Tridwell man came back so everyone’s blaming him.”

I wasn’t sure if he was joking or not but he seemed agitated at the mere mention of the twat’s name.

He looked at his watch, “Look Jase, sorry, I’d love to chat but I have to go... I have an interview.” He smiled, “It’s really been nice seeing you again... sorry we never got to have a final drink but...” He shook my hand and then he was off, whilst I was left stunned at this latest piece of news.

He never mentioned any gossip and never said anything about what the other members of the group thought. So now I was left wondering about my situation, would I get that letter and pay off or will that be instantly forgotten now I wasn’t around to cause trouble. Nevertheless, it did remind me I’d have to let HR know my new address; I’d send an email when I got home.


Of course Jimmy had piqued my interest and, if it wasn’t in the other direction, and a fair old walk, I might have popped in to try and find out more. Who was I kidding? I wouldn’t have got passed reception but I did wonder what exactly had gone on and why, when I was there only a week or so ago, was there no mention of such a takeover. I then wondered if that was why they offered me such a ‘reasonable’ severance package, to avoid bad publicity that might have scuppered the deal. Maybe, that’s why they offered such compensation, because they knew they’d never have to pay it. Then of course, as I felt my nappy warming to the worried flood I’d just let loose, a little bit of reality crept in... I wasn’t that important in the grand scheme of things. Unfortunately by then my nappy was well and truly full and I went to sit on a bench next to an old man who smelled even more of pee than I did. However, he looked at me in disgust and wandered off mumbling to himself.

I got a call from mum who said she was running late and that perhaps it might be better for me, if I was fed up of waiting, to get a bus home. I told her I had to wait at least an hour before I would be finished but agreed it was better not to just hang about and I’d meet her there. I squished the front of my slightly bulging pants and hoped they’d last until then but, in the meantime as it had started to drizzle, I needed to find a place to hide until the framed picture was ready. I made my way to the small pedestrianised area where a load of shops would keep my interest for a few minutes at least.

After moping about from one shop to another and trying desperately to drag out time I headed back to the Photo Shop. The other customers had gone and the nice lady was sitting behind her counter doing paperwork when I walked in and immediately her eyes lit up. 

“Ah, your job’s ready.” I could see she wanted to say more but wasn’t sure if she should. “I bet mummy’s very proud of her boys.”

Did she take me for a kid having realised I was one of those in the shot and just collecting this on behalf of ‘mummy’? Whatever the reason I was really pleased with the result. We looked so blissful and without a care in the world, I just wished that was how we could all stay - nappies and innocence.

“We all are,” was all I could counter with and she put it in a bag and thanked me for my custom.

I was almost at the bus stop when I realised that we had no wrapping paper at home so it was back to the Greeting Card shop to buy some with a nice design. I remembered that Billy’s treat of special disposables from his parents were purple so I found some shiny foil to match.

I just hope he liked the memory as much as I did.


Again I was on a bus with a soaked nappy but I’d peed enough to make the gel in the disposable quite solid so when I sat down, the large bulbous front made my joggers stand out. I kept my bag over the bulge but also a furtive hand rubbing it because it felt so smooth and silky. Luckily the bus wasn’t full so it was a very stimulating journey home and I needed a change even more when I got in.

Mum arrived home two hours after me but brought with her a couple of microwavable shepherd’s pies. Meanwhile, I’d cleaned myself up and wrapped Billy’s present with the idea of going round later to give it to him. I knew it would be the only chance I had before we’d be off and I wanted to check Billy and me were ‘OK’.

I heard the ‘ping’ of the microwave so sauntered down to the kitchen as mum was serving it with peas and carrots... and a glass of milk.

“Are you sure you trust me?” I asked jokingly.

“Yes, of course you’re right...” and she took the glass away and transferred it into a sippy cup.

I was astonished but then she grabbed a bib from the counter and fastened it in place.

“Mum, what are you doing?” I asked incredulously.

“Making sure my little sweetheart is all safe.”

“Yes mum, but all this babying is getting to be a bit much.” Although I heard the words come out I’d made no attempt to change things. I didn’t go and get the glass back nor did I try and remove the bib. Of course as she looked me up and down I realised that I was once again wearing only a t-shirt, nappy and a lovely pair of shiny plastic pants.

Mmmm,” mum said and then ignored me as she shovelled more peas onto my plate.


She shrugged and I saw there wasn’t going to be any movement from her so I just settled down to eat. She watched as I used the sippy cup and seemed happy and could then get on with her own meal in peace. I asked if she’d done everything she needed to do in town.

“Yes love, it took a bit longer than I hoped, kept bumping into folk I knew so had had a conversation with each one... but also had some last minute instructions for the agent and wanted to let a few others know our new address, including the Post Office to redirect any mail.”

“Oh yes, never thought of that.” That reminded me I needed to send an email to Mrs Garfield in HR, which I’d simply forgotten about. Too busy choosing my nappy from the vast selection of two types I had available, pink or purple. The rest had already departed to Grans.

We made small talk and I told her my spectacular news; Collins’s was being taken over and everyone was on a possible redundancy list. We speculated about who, why and when but came to the conclusion we had no idea. However, our conversation did remind me again about sending that email to Mrs Garfield. As it was I hadn’t checked my bank account to see if last month’s salary had gone in, better check that first I guess.

Later I mentioned about popping round to see Billy after we’d eaten as I hoped to give him his present.

“Good idea because we may not have time tomorrow as the men are coming early and we need to get what we’re saving loaded in the car so they don’t take anything we want to keep by mistake.”

I nodded between mouthfuls of shepherd’s pie, which was surprisingly very tasty.

When we’d almost finished I remembered the question I’d asked the day before but had then just slipped my mind.

“Mum, the other day I overheard aunty and Gran saying something about someone being autistic... do you know who they were talking about?”

I saw mum’s motherly smile slightly alter and she sighed. It took her a few moments to compose herself but then spoke.

“Well love, it’s a bit of a story so why don’t I tell you about it when you return from seeing Billy, mmm?”

“Oh, OK... it wasn’t about me though was it?” I winced in case it was.

She smiled and patted my padding. “I’ll explain everything when you get back sweetie but don’t worry everything’s going to be alright.”

# tbc #

Part 30

Everything’s going to be alright - what the hell was that supposed to MEAN for heaven’s sake? I’d heard it so often but had become one of those refrains that was intended to put me at ease but didn’t quite fulfil its obligation. For instance, why wasn’t it... alright now?

Anyway, she wasn’t going to start with the explanation until I’d been to see Billy but was curious so thought I’d nip over straight away and get that sorted before I did anything else. I was almost out the door before I realised I was still only wearing my padding. Although the pink disposable and matching plastic pants looked terrific, I quickly hoofed it back to my room for fleecy shorts and jumper.

I wasn’t looking forward to this meeting because I was nervous of what Billy might still be thinking... and then with my pressy... would he appreciate such a reminder. Also, what if things between the Edwards family had deteriorated and even Mark wasn’t speaking to me... what then? All these negative thoughts were in my head but when I got to the house I saw Mark in the garden wearing his school football kit whilst playing keepy-up with a black and white football.

“Hi Mark,” he hadn’t seen me approach.

“Oh hi Jase... fancy a kick about?” He seemed pleased to see me so that was something.

“What in the park?”

“Afraid not, mum doesn’t want me to leave the garden so...” He’d resigned himself to staying where he was.

His white polyester football shorts were quite flimsy so the padding underneath was fairly apparent but he didn’t seem that bothered. Mark had been the one who’d objected most to having to wear nappies at the beginning but now...

He kicked the ball to me but without any force so I simply tapped it back. This wasn’t going to be that exciting a game but I did notice that his padding looked firm and tight and again I wondered if it had been Billy who’d fastened him in.

“On your own?” I said looking toward the house but he just shrugged and deftly kicked the ball up and into his hands like a professional.

“Yer, just little old me,” he replied looking a bit fed up.

“I see. Sorry, I just came to give Billy this,” and held out the plastic bag for him to see I’d brought something.

“What is it?”

“Well, it’s his birthday in a couple of days’ time and I won’t be here, so, thought I’d give him his card and pressy now.”     

“Oh, that sounds nice... but he’s not here at the moment he’s in the school’s swimming competition down at the pool. Dad’s there... in support.” He shrugged again.

“Didn’t you fancy it?” I know normally he’s a big supporter of whatever his brother does but this time I saw that shrug.

“He’s being a bit... you know... annoying since your last visit...”

He didn’t say any more so I could only guess what might have transpired but if Mark was here, then I guess he must have ticked him off as well as his mum and dad.

However, I thought things might have become more difficult but wasn’t going to take the blame for something I thought his mum had caused.

“Does he blame me...”

“No, no, no Jase, of course not, no one’s blaming you but he said something to mum and dad and, if it hadn’t been a school gala, he’d not have been allowed out.”

“Does that mean there’s not going to be an eighteenth party for him?” I wondered.

“I don’t know mum and dad are pretty annoyed with him right now but... well...”

“Is he still wearing,” without actually saying the word I pointed to his padding, “like you?”

“Yes, that’s not changed but said he doesn’t want to return to school next year so that’s caused a bit of an argument.”

I knew that his parents had been very disappointed that he failed his exams and thought he might have done it on purpose. I also knew to a certain extent he had but his mum and dad wanted him to go to University. It was all a bit of a mess because he also fancied Uni but of course the nappies had played a big part in his refusal to do as they wanted. He’d sat his exams at a particularly angry time but think he actually regretted his action. I remember him saying after he’d got his results that he wanted to find work like I had. I just hoped his parents didn’t blame me for that influence as well.

Meanwhile, Mark was standing holding the ball to his chest and swaying on the spot looking like an innocent little ten year-old. I think without his older brother around Mark does become more unworldly and slightly more childlike, well, his bulging shorts at least adding to that perception.

“Oh, poor Billy.” I was glad it wasn’t me that had caused the problem but still. “Well, Mark, can you take this and give it to him on his birthday with all my best.”

I passed him the package. I could see he wanted to know what it was but told him with a smile he’d find out soon enough. He checked to see that his mother wasn’t looking and whispered he’d go straight to their room and hide it until then.

“The offer still stands for you both to come up to the Lakes and stay.” 

“I’m sure we’d like that.” But shrugged because he knew that it would be down to what his parents decided not what they wanted.

He seemed down and I didn’t know if it was because of the family situation or the fact I was leaving. Part of me hoped that it was because he was going to miss me because I knew I was going to miss him and his brother.

“OK Mark,” I gave him a strong hug and of course patted his padded bottom. It was nice because he did the same to me. “I hope to see you both again soon... please keep in touch.”

There was a slight grope from each of us which was very pleasant... mutual appreciation I hoped.

There was so much more I could have said, wanted to say, to tell him and Billy just how much I’d miss them but perhaps it was better that a hug would convey all that.

So, that was my duty done and glad Billy didn’t see me as the culprit of whatever his disagreement with his parents happened to be. However, it was quite a wrench to leave here and my emotions were beginning to add weight to my disposable.

I told Mark again I’d miss him and clung on for perhaps longer than I should but he didn’t seem to mind. “Give Billy a hug from me.” I said and was surprised that tears were streaming down his face. The sentiment was more than I bargained for so quickly finished the clinch and left trying to hide my wet face. I could feel my nappy warming and didn’t know if that was a good sign or bad because at that moment there was so much going on in it. I needed a distraction... time to get home and find out what mum had to say for herself.


“Oh baby, have you been crying?” She knew straight away. “Come here let me give you a cuddle.”

I went over and despite my determination to get to the bottom of what mum had to say, I appreciated her embrace even more. Once again, I felt tears streaming down my face as I thought that I might not see the boys ever again... and that was painful. Mum knew how emotional I can be so kept her hug going until I was calm. By then my nappy was absolutely sodden and she released her grip.

“OK sweetheart, I think you need a change so... let’s get my sweet, compassionate baby cleaned up and ready for bed...”

“Mum,” I interrupted, “we have something else to talk about.”

“Yes I know baby but why not after we’ve changed that soggy nappy” she said reasonably.

Reluctantly I pulled away and wiped my eyes. That heavy weight returned and it felt like I’d never come to terms with leaving.

“Poor baby,” mum said as she patted my saggy bum. “Don’t worry love, everything will be alright.”

I set off upstairs.

“I’ll be up in a minute sweetie so just leave everything to me.”

“Mum it’s OK I can see to it myself.”

“I know love but... just leave it to me, mmm?”

She went off to the kitchen whilst I made my way upstairs. As I’ve mentioned, the bedroom looked quite stark without the posters and stuff that used to adorn the walls and surfaces but the mirror showed that I did indeed look like I needed help. My face was streaked, my eyes puffy and my hair unkempt. I eased the fleecy shorts down and thankfully, as always, the plastic pants had done a fantastic job of holding everything in place, but the disposable had filled out quite a bit.

As always it had done its job of containment and I was grateful.  To some it might seem incredible that at my age I was still thankful for my fantastic babyish underwear. But the number of times they have prevented a pee stain, or worse, I’ve lost count. What I do know is that they give me confidence and when I see how solid and firm they become because of my unruly bladder I’m truly thankful to whoever invented disposables and plastic pants.

I was still looking in the mirror when mum arrived and immediately started to pull down the plastic cover. I wasn’t going to complain I’d already decided to let her get on with it and mum’s a master at sorting such things out quickly. Next she released the tapes and held it so it didn’t splat on the carpet. I just hoped she wasn’t going to inspect it too closely otherwise she’d have seen just how emotional I’d got about leaving the boys.

I looked at mum because I knew just how much I relied on her to ‘make things right’. However, even with my naked, greasy teenage bits and pieces on show it felt like I was back to being a toddler and needed her more than ever before.

“OK baby, go and give yourself a good wipe down whilst I get you a fresh nappy.” She hadn’t missed a thing.

It didn’t take long but when I returned after a thorough sponging she’d laid out my changing mat, had all the powder and lotions at hand and had another large pink disposable all fluffed out and waiting. I knew the drill.

In seconds she had all my dangly bits nicely oiled, powdered and fitted the lovely soft, thick disposable with barely any effort. There was a pair of clear plastic pants that she flapped out and fed up my legs and finally, what was probably my last clean t-shirt, slipped over my head.

“OK baby I think you’ll do,” pushing my hair to one side. “Shall we have that chat?” She held out her hand and we toddled back downstairs and into the living room.


I sat on the sofa wearing only what mum had just put me in, which once more I hadn’t thought twice about. She went to the kitchen and returned with another baby’s bottle of milk, which I anticipated was sweetly flavoured.

“Right,” she joked looking down on me, “assume the position.”

Like last time mum settled herself into the corner whilst I draped myself onto her lap so I was looking up at her.

“There now... get comfortable...” and she brought the bottle to my lips.

I nudged it away. “Mum I can’t speak or ask questions if I’m sucking on a bottle.”

“No baby you can’t but I’m hoping what I’m going to tell you will answer all your concerns.”

She slipped the latex teat in as I was trying to make up my mind what to say next.

This was quite a bizarre situation and I had no real idea of how we’d got to this place, this moment, this acceptance of so meekly becoming a little kid. Perhaps I was about to find out.

“There now... just enjoy the milk for a moment and then I can start.”

Once I’d got the flow going, and the sweet warmness filled my mouth. Granny’s Magic Milk was some kind of elixir that ticked all the boxes - I was hooked and I think mum knew that too.

“OK, let me start with something you may have worked out already.”

But I was now only considering the honey and milk combo that seemed to be something the God’s must have invented... was this Nectar?

Why I’d suddenly forgotten my original question and focused on the drink I don’t know but... hell, was it tasty.

With her holding the bottle in one hand and softly patting my silky plastic bottom with the other she began.


“You asked me who Granny and Aunt Jane were talking about when they mentioned someone being autistic,” she stroked my bottom affectionately. “Well, it wasn’t all about you it was daddy.”

For a second I stopped sucking taking in this information and wondered why she’d said daddy and not dad. I was about to ask when mum pushed the teat back between my lips and continued.

“Your daddy was autistic and although it was not spoken about much when he was young, HIS father recognised he was different, though not necessarily why.”

She nodded to herself as I sucked.

“From an early age your granddaddy, on your father’s side, would recognise some little quirk or foible and react positively to it. After all, his boy, his only son, was his pride and joy...

Wike I am youshhh.” I spoke around the bottle.

“Yes... like you’re mine... and gran’s... and aunties,” she returned the teat to my mouth and encouraged me to drink. “But back then it was something few people were aware of or simply didn’t understand. However, your granddaddy would have none of that; his son was perfect - just different - so worked with him rather than dismissing those little, or to some, strange idiosyncrasies.”

I’d got my sucking rhythm back so was enjoying the sweetness more than ever. However, mum was telling me something I’d not heard before and I knew it was leading to something about me.

“In many ways your granddaddy was ahead of his time because nothing was too much trouble as far as his son was concerned. He pa