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As we get on with our day to day activities, me doing what I do and you doing what you do, there are others that have other things going on...

Meanwhile...                                                                                      by Les Lea

I woke up feeling a chill in the air. It was still dark outside but the street lighting was illuminating my room. Now that was strange because I know I pulled the blinds closed last night so something was up. I scanned the window and saw that it was wide open and that was definitely not the way I’d left it last night... no wonder there was a chill but more importantly I wondered if there was someone in the house.

At that thought a different chill ran through my body, one of nervous apprehension as I deliberated whether to get up and investigate. The trouble was, under the bit of duvet that still covered me I was lovely and warm, it was Sunday (well it would be soon enough), so did I really need to see who had invaded my home?

There was no denying it, as comfy as I was I didn’t like the idea of anyone uninvited in my home, so, pulled back the cover and barefoot, crept towards my bedroom door. That chill in the air was still with me and felt a little spurt of ‘anxiety’ enter my underwear. I was only wearing a pair of briefs but stupidly didn’t wonder if that was the best attire in which to meet a burglar.

Still, I could hear movement downstairs, so that spurred me on, all the time thinking what kind of weapon I might need, and as stealthily as I could, tiptoed to the top of the landing. I wish I had a baseball bat like they always seem to have in movies but alas I only had me to frighten off any intruder. At 5’6” and just nudging 120 pounds I don’t suppose I’m much of a threat but I just hoped they didn’t know just how big I was.

I made a coughing noise in the hope that they would hear me coming and that alone would scare them away. I had faith that they’d be dashing for the door and I wouldn’t need to confront anyone but as I descended there was a mechanical noise I couldn’t place.

I stood listening for a few seconds before I moved into the kitchen where the sound was coming from. Had I somehow left something on?

“Erm, who are you?” I asked with more of a query in my voice than the hard aggressive homeowner I’d hoped to convey.

Sitting at my small kitchen table was a middle-aged man, looking fairly dapper but not in the least bit concerned about my sudden appearance.  He smiled.

“Ah, Martin, glad to see you’re up...” He knew my name but...

“Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my HOUSE.” Oh yes, that was more aggressive and showed I meant business. However, I still hadn’t made a move towards him in case he was armed.

I looked around, something had changed but at that moment I couldn’t quite... oh yes, the place was tidy. The table normally littered with pizza boxes, sauce bottles and empty cans had all been cleared. The sink full of mucky plates and stuff was also empty and as far as I could see all put away. I couldn’t understand what had happened but I nipped across the hallway and into my small living room, which was often even worse and that was also spick and span. What the HELL?

I stormed back into the kitchen. “Just who the hell are you and who sent you and disturbing my Sunday lie in?” I demanded.

“My name is unimportant and for the time being so is who sent me.” He smiled and paused but I was expecting more. However, the silence that followed un-nerved me so I had to say something.

“I don’t think mum would have sent you, well, not at this time of night, errr, day, um, what time is it?” I said to myself out loud.

Then a thought hit me; Am I dead?

“Am I dead?” I asked the smiling man in front of me. “Have I died and gone to... where do you go if you’re not a believer?” I said it out loud but was really only thinking it to myself.

“Oh, so you’re not a believer in God? I don’t suppose you believe in demons and angels, vampires and werewolves... fairies and...”

“No of course not,” I interrupted his flow. “I’m a grown up so don’t believe in Superman, Batman or the Avengers either... although I enjoy the films. I shrugged; I can’t be dead as I’m sure the first thing I’d notice is not an uncluttered kitchen.

A grown up,” he seemed to find the opinion of myself amusing and tittered quietly to himself.

I looked out of the window and could see the start of dawn... and it looked like it might be a nice day; the horizon, or what little I could see of it behind trees and other houses, looked bright and cloudless.

However, I returned my attention to the burglar.

“So, you crept in through my bedroom window and...”

“I didn’t creep anywhere young man... I do have my dignity...” He said with an attitude he shouldn’t really have, being a burglar and all, but again there was a lengthy pause in the conversation which I felt needed filling.

“My bedroom window is wide open so I think it’s safe to assume that’s how you gained access...”

“No, no, no you silly boy,” I didn’t like being called a silly boy, it’s what mum always called me when... no matter. But despite my look of annoyance he continued, “The window is wide open because your room stinks. You young men have no idea just how much pong your body exudes and as a result of your constant wank... erm, nocturnal pastimes, it sticks around like the mess in your pants... you could cut the atmosphere with a knife.”

“Look,” I said quite awkwardly, “I don’t need you to lecture me on anything about how I live in MY house so, what are you doing here?”

Why was I suddenly feeling guilty in my own home and...?

“Well Martin, lucky for you, I’m here to help.” He smiled and there was a definite twinkle in his eye.

“I’m not sure I need an old man with a cleaning fetish to help me with anything...”

“Old man, OLD MAN,” he seemed annoyed as he blustered, “I’ll have you know that in some circles I’m regarded as quite a young and vibrant catch.”

“Really,” I was enjoying seeing him at a disadvantage, “maybe in the knitting circle at the old folk’s home.” I scoffed.

He stood up and I could see he was quite elegant in the way he dressed but was still indignant and harrumphed as he thought about what he was going to say next.

“Be that as it may... but yes... I am here to help,” and looked me up and down. “For starters, I’m sure Mr Klein doesn’t want his designer briefs to get into such a state.”

I looked down to see what he was referring to and of course he was correct, I’d been wearing my white cotton underpants for a couple of days now (perhaps more) and they had seen several days wear... and, erm, mmmm, nights when I come to think of it... AND I’d just done a nervous spurt of pee in them so they did look a little on the gross side. However, he shouldn’t blame me for wearing them nonstop as dear Calvin does make exceedingly comfy cotton pants, so, he’s the one to take the fall for this particular situation.

However, embarrassed, I quickly covered the manky evidence with the palm of my hand.

“When was the last time you took a shower?” He grimaced as I stood there looking like a little kid who’d just peed their pants, which of course I had.

“I have one every day.” Now it was my turn to be indignant. However, I was lying; I hadn’t had a proper shower for almost a week because I kept getting up late for work so everything was a rush in the morning. When I got home at night I was just too tired to be bothered. Nonetheless, I didn’t need this lunatic having a go thank you very much.

At twenty-three I had my own home and mortgage (well, no I didn’t but paid rent though he didn’t need to know that), had a job as a brickie on a building site and one of the few companies that seemed to have tons of work all the time. It was hard physical work but the boss took a chance on my scrawny body, gave me an apprenticeship at sixteen, and proved I could keep up and do the job.

There was no doubt that the other guys on the site all took advantage of my small stature (in comparison) and I was the ‘baby’ of the team but, as I say, I could do the job and that was all they really cared about. With overtime I was managing to get by OK the only thing lacking was a social life, which to be honest I wasn’t all that bothered about. I liked my own company with my own special thoughts.

He looked around the kitchen and his eyes landed on the washing machine. Surprisingly, I just twigged it was going.

“I suspect, as I couldn’t find any washing powder, that,” he said nodding in its direction, “hasn’t been used for some time.”

The little window on the front showed a soapy swirl of clothes though I couldn’t make out just what he was washing... and why would he use my machine?

“What the hell are you washing...?”

He harrumphed, shook his head in what I suspect was disdain and pointed upstairs. “I think it’s time you took a shower.”

“Don’t tell me what to do mate,” I said mate with aggression rather than, well, you know what... he wasn’t a mate and I think he got the message. Except he did something that made me move, he sniffed the air around me and pulled a face of disgust. I took the hint.

I’m not sure why this was the spur I needed but I turned and started up the stairs to the bathroom, he began to follow.

“Erm, just where do you think you’re going? I said as I turned to face him halfway up the staircase.

“To check you’re doing it correctly.”

“I don’t think so... mate... I don’t need your cleanliness fetish anywhere near my bathroom thank you very much,” I added with a hint of sarcasm.

He shook his head from side to side as if he didn’t believe me and flittered his fingers dismissing my argument and indicating I should get a move on. Again I’m not sure why but I carried on and arrived at the bathroom.

Now, this room is just a place to do my toilet and have the occasional shower but it’s not a space I look after so was a bit nervous about this prim and proper gent seeing what an absolute pig I was. What I became was flabbergasted; on entering the small room it had become a spotless palace, everything gleamed and the toilet, well I could have drunk from the super-clean bowl that was for sure... if I’d needed to that is.

“This was awful Martin, you really do need to step up... and then keep up to your chores.” He faffed around arranging an already well-arranged stack of towels (that I didn’t know I had) and tutted to himself.

He spoke like I was a little kid under instruction and could feel my entire body blush in shame at being caught out like that. I should have said something to this intruder but was a little bit shamed by his comments. I had let things slide, I just couldn’t be arsed.

“Yes, well,” I wanted, no needed, to say something in my defence. ”Yer well, we can’t all have maids and cleaners looking after us can we?” I mumbled but he’d reached in and set the shower going and indicated I should enter the cubicle.

Reluctantly I stepped in but just as the first warm jets hit my body he pointed to my messy briefs. “I’d take them off if I were you.”

“What so you can look at my todger, I don’t think so...”

“Good grief man, do I look like I’m interested in your todg... erm, penis?”

I looked him up and down and shrugged. However, his next comment struck a chord.

“If I were you I’d pay extra attention to the area they cover,” and he pulled a face that left me in no doubt that he thought that my crotch was rank. Well, that’s what I took from his sneer.

I wriggled my now soaked pants down my legs and kicked them off and into the room narrowly missing him.

Uuurrrgghhhh,” it made me chuckle knowing how they disgusted him.

However, I made sure my back was turned as I didn’t want him looking at my cock... although why I thought him seeing my arse was OK I just don’t know.

I eventually looked around and he’d gone, and so had my underpants. I vaguely wondered if he was some kind of undies pervert but then remembered the washing machine so settled that he was a hygiene perv instead.

I took my time. It really was very nice under the hot shower, I didn’t remember it ever being this temperature in the past but put that down to the fact that the washing machine was running at the same time. Why that would make a difference I had no idea but that’s where my mind went.

I also didn’t remember having so many bottles of shampoo or, I checked the label, Exfoliating Body Wash, Moisturising Creamy Balm, in various exotic aromas. On the other hand I was quite enjoying the soapy embrace of a couple of purple looking liquids that soothed my body and helped me relax a little. For a moment I completely forgot about my visitor.

The novelty of having such a hot spray for a shower made me just stand there and let the soothing jets radiate around my body. Eventually I had to get a grip so applied loads of stuff and as the lather built up I noticed a loofah I didn’t know I had and began to exfoliate as the instructions advised. It all felt so gloriously invigorating I was enjoying the slick process. Oddly I felt quite rejuvenated by the time I turned the water off and reached for one of the fluffiest towels I’d ever encountered, Surely this couldn’t be mine as well?

I mainly dried off in the bathroom and then ambled towards my bedroom still rubbing the remains of the lovely shower from my hair. As I entered the room of course he was there but the bed had been stripped, clothes hung up (I supposed) and all that remained to be seen was the mattress with the ever present waterproof cover that had always been there... at mum’s insistence when I moved in.

One of the reasons I left home was because mum was always on at me for the occasional accidents I had whilst I slept. She wasn't awful about it, in fact she said she understood and wanted me to wear protection at night but, although there was obvious sense to that, I didn’t want to be ‘that guy who needed nappies’.

She wouldn’t let up so when I got the opportunity to leave I did so... even though in some ways I regret doing so. Her tender understanding made me feel guilty so to avoid that I left, but, as they say, I made my bed and now had to lie in it. I really should be thanking this man for changing the bedding because I hadn’t done so for months... I guess that was already in the machine.

Anyway, he was standing and surveying my hair.

“That’s all a bit unruly but someone else will see to that no doubt.” He was more talking to himself than me but he indicated a pile of stuff that I hadn’t noticed on the dresser. “OK, let’s get you ready, you have a full day ahead of you.”

“WHAT?” I was perplexed. I had no plans for the day, it was Sunday and all I expected to be doing at the most, was trip to the pub at lunchtime, have a couple of pints and return happy and gorge myself on a frozen pizza which lay unappetisingly in the fridge.

“Look Martin I’m here to help and you have to trust me.”

“Why? I have no idea who you are, why you’re here and more importantly... you weren’t invited.”

He’d wandered over to the pile of stuff on the dresser.

“Chuck us over a pair of pants whilst you’re there.” I called.

“No pants today... something I think you’ll find a lot better.” I don’t know how he did it but there was a little shimmy as he reached for the first object. “Now then, why don’t you just lie out on your bed and I’ll begin.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” He was approaching with what looked like a disposable nappy.

“You’ve got a very exciting day ahead of you so I’m here to make sure you are completely ready for it.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” But I just strode past him and opened the top drawer of the dresser where I store my pants. It was empty, so was the other drawer. “Where are my pants?”

He put his finger to his ear as if to tell me to listen. All I could hear was the washing machine... oh... he’d put everything in the laundry.

“Oh very clever,” I derided.

“They were all pretty scruffy and, well, I think it will take more than one cycle to clean those things... the bin might have been a better preference.” Her shrugged and fluffed the disposable out in front of me. “Right, please lie out and I can get started.”

“Listen mate... you aren’t going to start anything because I don’t wear a fucking nappy.” I hoped my anger would scare him off.

“Maybe, but you want to.” His comment startled me. He saw that I looked shocked. “Oh c’mon Martin, everyone knows what you think about, what you dream about, what action you take to get excited when your need to fall asleep... and that isn’t fast cars and loose women now is it?”

I had been feeling all nice, warm and relaxed but a sudden shiver ran throughout my body and I could hardly speak.

“Wha, whattt, erm, ummmm, what do you mean?”

“I know what your secret, and not so secret, desires are Martin and as I said, I’m here to help so let’s not play the ‘innocent’ because I know it’s not true. Now come on and let’s get you into this nappy to start with and then we can...”

“Don’t be stupid. I don’t want...” I crossed my arms like a toddler would refusing to eat anything but ice cream.

“I said stop with the denials and the temper tantrums I know, as your mother knew, that what you really need is a nice ‘special friend’ to take care of you.”

“I don’t need a ‘special friend’ for...”

My towel fell to the floor and I was standing naked in front of this stranger. Not only that but I noticed that all my hair had disappeared... I was pubeless.

“You need a friend to look after you... some sort of father figure... like you dream about.”

I shrugged and looked at the floor... I didn’t want to admit anything but came out with “Daddy left us when I was three so....”

“I know that Martin and I’m sure you’ve felt guilty about your, shall we say, strange feelings that over the past few years have taken control off your more ‘nocturnal activities’.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” But I did. The number of times I’ve erupted into my CKs just wishing... but this guy shocked me because I knew he knew and that worried me.

“Look Martin it’s as easy as pie. Let me give you a nice dusting of powder, a quick flip of the disposable and you’ll be in it in a trice and more comfy than you’ve ever felt in a pair of Mr Klein’s undies.”

“But, but, I can’t, it’s stupid, I’m not a baby, I’m a....”


I nodded but he knew that wasn’t exactly what I wanted. I wanted, like in every night time visualization and desperate longing to have a strong man to...

But he dragged me back to the here and now.

“Now, just let me check that you’re completely dry.” He took the towel and as I stood there naked wiped over every part of my body again paying special attention to between my legs.

The depilation had done a remarkable job because I was so smooth I fair gleamed and my body felt soft and a pleasure to be inside.

He nodded his approval, “Smooth like a little boy should be,” he murmured to himself.

However, I was still battling in my head what he’s said, what he was inferring and whether I should comply with his demands. The disposable did look nice and thick and I had craved such a piece of underwear though never admitted it to anyone so no one but me had any... except... did mum know?

Did mum send you?” I nervously asked.

“That’s not important at this moment little boy...”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, I don’t think it’s any surprise that this is what you’ve been dreaming about for ages and now...”

“Look, whether it is or it isn’t... I make my own decisions and...”

“Now stop that at once. We have a lot to do and I don’t need any un-necessary arguments about it.”

“Don’t tell me what to DO.” I hoped I was more forceful with my displeasure but he just looked infinitely more severe.

“You know sweet boy,” I knew he was holding a threat in those two words, “you’re not too old to be put over my knee for a sound spanking...”

“Yes I am. I’m a grown man...” I pouted.

“No you’re not,” he laughed in derision, “You’re just a little boy who needs some help...”

“NO, NO, NO, NO” I screamed.

“Right, any more of that and it is straight over my knee.”

“No it’s not.” I countered aware of my rights.

He stood stock still whilst holding onto my arm. “Do you really want to test me?” His grip was steely and looked far too serious to be challenged so meekly I shook my head no.

In that instant he was correct, I was no longer a man with a job and responsibilities, I was a little hairless boy who needed a grown up for guidance.

“OK then” He smiled and told me to lie out and let him tape me into the nice thick, fluffy nappy he said had my name on it.

Like an idiot I looked to see if I could see my name but realised it was just a turn of phrase.

Without so much as asking or with any kind of preliminary warning, he started massaging in some lovely smelling lotion. The shower of powder smelled equally as nice and felt wonderful being rubbed into my nappy area. The fact it was being applied by a complete stranger appeared to have slipped my mind. Although I think it was the threat of going over his knee that was the real reason.

Strangely, what popped into my head was... this was a man looking after me, he wasn’t the man of my dreams, but it just felt agreeable. The thick velvety material pulled up between my legs and gently fastened into place was done with such care I wondered if I could simply go back to bed and sleep the sleep of the contented. It was like all my hopes and dreams had suddenly been fulfilled by this flexible and unbelievably comfortable piece of underwear. The impression of belonging, being a big kid and being looked after all bubbled up in my head... it was ecstasy.

How could I have denied myself such a simple pleasure and what’s more – how did this intruder know?

Meanwhile... elsewhere

I was woken up by a firm knock at the door. I got up and looked out the bedroom window to see a delivery man with a large box who was obviously waiting for me to go down and sign something. The trouble was... I wasn’t expecting anything.

He knocked again, this time a bit more forcefully, so I couldn’t ignore him even though I knew he must have the wrong address.

When I eventually opened the door the young man smiled but I could tell he was in a hurry and offered me the pad to sign.

“I’m not expecting anything... you must have the wrong address.” I shook my head and started to close the door.

He looked at his pad. “David Evans,” he said reading the name on the box, and then read out my address.

“Oh, erm, yes, that’s me.”

“Well then,” he offered me the pad to sign again. “It looks like someone’s sent you something... maybe it’s something you want but didn’t know you wanted?” He smiled the cutest smile, which actually won me over and although I was still a bit perplexed as to why, I grabbed the box and hefted it into my hallway.

“Pyjamas perhaps... enjoy,” he chuckled over his shoulder as he made his way back to the Amazon van.

I closed the door and stood pondering who could have sent me a package. It wasn’t my birthday, we had quite a number of months to go before Christmas was upon us and yet I had this surprise gift.

Oh bloody hell. I just realised that my dressing gown was open and my silk boxers, my pyjamas, were clearly in view and I was ‘sporting morning wood’... as the porn mags of my youth used to say.

That puts the deliveryman’s comment into perspective. No wonder that grumpy face turned to a smile when he must have noticed... mind you, he wasn’t embarrassed by my cock’s appearance so... had it interested him? He was quite cute but I suppose the moment has now passed and I have this unknown parcel to open and find out who sent it and why.

To my disbelief and confusion the box was full of disposable nappies, plus an assortment of bottles and containers of cream, powder and ointment (and who knew what else?). There must have been twenty packs of different styles and colours but I didn’t order any of this stuff and there was no accompanying letter or invoice from which company sent them.

This was weird because, although I looked at quite a lot of ABDL stuff online, and loved the idea of looking after some little cutie (come back Amazon delivery guy) I’d never really thought about nappies for myself. I just liked to see them on others and even that was on specific people - boyish looking teens who needed a daddy figure being the preference.

Still, as there was no return address it looked like I was stuck with them and their presence did make me reappraise my situation.

It’s true that I had thought I’d found a partner on a couple of occasions but unfortunately they never quite worked out. A change of desires, the need to grow up, to exert their own independence - I wasn’t against any of this but those relationships ended with them finding that outlet elsewhere.

I wanted to look after them, to be their daddy but most of all to keep them in nappies. It had been a desire I’d had for as long as I could remember. I wasn’t bothered about wearing such a lovely padded item but I just loved to see others in them. That fetish grew to such an extent it was what I needed to make any such rapport work, alas, lovely thick padding not for everyone.

Despite at 42 being comfortable finance wise (I run my own company), fairly healthy (I followed quite a strict daily dietary and exercise programme), around 200 pounds and had loads of love to give to the right person, I was alone. My preferences for a mate had yet to be matched and I’d all but given up searching. However, this surprise package had quickly re-established that yearning but what to do with it... or about it?

Of course doubt suddenly swept through my mind – had I inadvertently ordered something and couldn’t remember doing so. I quickly grabbed my home laptop (I have a home and a work laptop and the two are never used for the same thing), and checked the history.


I examined my phone to see if I’d had a message from Amazon about a delivery time.


And then thoroughly checked the box because other stuff I bought online was well signposted and had all manner of labels and barcodes.


In fact, I began to wonder if it was an actual Amazon driver who had delivered this box. I mean he was dressed like an Amazon driver, the van, ah, the van, I might have assumed was Amazon because of its colour but of course it might not have been I hadn’t paid it that much attention. Still, even if that was the case, who the hell had sent me this stuff... and why?

Anyway, all this worry would have to wait because now I was up I had things to do. The early morning weather was OK and Sundays often saw a few of us fitness freaks out running, jogging and checking our Fitbits were working correctly. So, as was usual I got ready for my daily ten mile run.  Once that was decided I hoped the fresh air would clear my brain and I could think about what now took up space in my hallway. I slipped on a pair of Adidas shiny Neuclassics shorts, pulled on my bright reflective vest, found my Nike running shoes and was ready in next to no time.

I checked in the mirror that everything fitted tightly and thought I looked pretty good. Not that I’m narcissistic but I’ve  tried to keep myself in good shape so there’s no fat, and at six foot two, I like to think I carry my hairy body quite well. Not that I speak to anyone when I’m on a run, the occasional nod is as about as far as I go for social interaction.

I set my Fitbit, shoved in my ear buds and anticipated that I’d be back in less than 90 minutes. My cat stretched out, looked at me with utter disdain, curled up, settled back down in her chair and returned to whatever is the cat equivalent to the Land of Nod.


Meanwhile... back to the beginning

I was overjoyed at wearing a thick disposable even though, at that moment, my padded backside was getting a firm pat from this strange intruder. The thing is it was nice; in fact, the softness of the padded material had been a surprise. I may have thought about wearing a nappy for some time but I never really imagined it would feel as wonderful as this. My Calvin Klein’s had enough smoothness, or so I thought, but this was way, way better.

“I knew that’s what was needed,” said the smiling burglar. He seemed so pleased with himself to have got me dressed and giggling (I don’t know why) at my reflection in the mirror. The very thing I’d dreamt about and desired but had never acted upon I was now wearing.  I did a little jig and examined myself from all angles, smoothing down the slinky padding and running my hands over the supple vinyl pants. I could enjoy doing that all day.

“Erm, we haven’t finished yet,” The dapper little man explained, “We have a few more things that need attending to... raise your arms.”

He pulled a pale green onesie over my head and fastened the poppers under my crotch, which sort of lifted the bulk and held it firmly in place... it felt terrific.

Mmmm,” the stranger looked at me from side to side weighing up options, “I think I know what will go best with this,” and as if by magic produced a pair of green short dungarees, which he had me step into. He wriggled them up my thighs and over the bulky nappy bulge and slipped my arms through the braces. “Mmmm,” he murmured approvingly, “you look very sweet.”

The reflection said I looked like a toddler but I loved what I saw and all I needed was a stuffed toy animal and a dummy and it would be me, as far as family photos were concerned, when I was about two. The entire image had me wriggling excitedly like a two year old as well but it felt right though I wasn’t sure why.

Conversely, though I was quite enjoying the moment, I was also wondering what the hell was going on. I mean, I’d let a complete stranger dress me as a toddler with barely a word of complaint but now, other than he seemed to know my desires, it just seemed unbelievable. Yet here I was looking as cute as a very cute button.

“OK, OK,” he was still admiring how I was dressed and straightening my straps, which crossed behind my back, “what the hell is going on and who sent you?” I asked a little more petulantly than I’d hoped.

He stood back, “A little boy should be seen and not heard, especially when he comes out with naughty words... so, I think we’ll have this,” and he produced a dummy, “in there,” and shoved it in my mouth, “and you need to be at your sweetest as you’re going to meet your new daddy.”

“FWWWHHAAA?” I tried to say “What?” but the dummy interfered. I was about to take it out but he just shook his head and I immediately did as he instructed.

“That’s better. Now,” he slipped a pair of reins over my shoulders and fastened them in place, “I need you to be on your best behaviour when we go for a lovely morning walk.”

“Burr, burrrttt, erm....” My dummy was soaked in spit so I had to suck harder to stop from dribbling onto my onesie.

“No buts, we have to set off now so let’s not be silly or drag your feet. It’s time to go....”

The door opened and before I knew it I was walking down my garden path and out onto the public pavement dressed as a toddler and being guided by this strange little man who instructed where I should be heading.

Those people, who were out and about looked, smiled and waved. Did everyone see this as ‘normal’? Although the outfit was incredibly comfortable, I wasn’t that comfortable with anyone being able to see me this way. I didn’t know what to do. Making a run back into the house wasn’t an option, I was tethered by reins, and stupidly thought I’d only draw attention to myself if I began to create, so the best thing was... to go along with it all.

I was surprised at the friendliness of my neighbours, some I had never spoken to before but who had a cheery wave and a smile.


Meanwhile... erm... a realisation

I’d just jogged to the end of the cul-de-sac where I live and joined the main road when the wind seemed to pick up. Thankfully, the sun was still shining and the breeze was on my back so adjusted my pace accordingly and...

The Fitbit suddenly stopped working and the music I liked to run to abruptly finished. There wasn’t anything on the small wrist screen so thought about turning back and sorting it out. However, it wouldn’t be the first time I’d exercised without music, although these days it is a bit of a trial to do so. Mind made up - I’d carry on without my personal musical score.

A low-loader lorry hurtled past and the noise from the engine wasn’t helped by the sound of a loose piece of thin plastic wrapping flapping loudly as it sped along. It should have been secure and I hated to think about it coming free, landing on a speeding car and the possible ensuing accident.

Up ahead I could see another runner, well, I thought it might be a runner. He was small in stature but was wearing green shorts but looking over the fields and pointing something out. I assumed he must be on the phone and talking to someone but then of course what I dreaded happening, happened.

The loose piece of plastic flew off the back of the lorry and I could see it was quite a considerable size as it billowed in the air before plummeting down onto that unsuspecting person up ahead. I saw it wrap itself around him and watched as tightly bound he tumbled down into a ditch. Meanwhile, the lorry continued on its way seemingly unaware of the incident it had caused.

As I appeared to be the only other person around I rushed up to help and found someone thrashing ineffectively about trying to extricate themselves from what appeared to be a cellophane prison. I mean under other circumstances it could have been quite funny but I didn’t know if the victim was injured or not. I eased myself down the embankment and found a young lad caught up in a cling-filmy trap.

“Are you OK?” I queried as I began to try and unwrap the poor bewildered chap.

He was struggling and I wasn’t sure he was totally aware of just what had happened.

“This,” I said holding up a piece of the wayward material, “blew off a lorry and wrapped itself around you... are you injured at all?”

Eventually, after a few more seconds of fight he paused and I could make out there were tears in his eyes and he was crying.

“ARE YOU INJURED?” I’m not sure why I thought by shouting would make him understand better but his tears told me something was hurting. “Don’t cry little fellow, I’ll soon have you out... don’t panic... you’ll be OK.”

I was trying to calm him but he looked really shook-up and I reckon he was only a kid and possibly in some kind of shock. In fact, as I pulled some of the clingy material away I could see he was dressed as a toddler and obviously had a thick nappy on under his cute little shorts... which actually looked like a pair of kiddie dungarees... though he wasn’t as young as his outfit.

I don’t know how it had done it but the clingy stuff had almost mummified him it was wrapped so tight. He didn’t say anything as he still looked pretty stunned at his predicament but it was like he’d been gift-wrapped for me. 

“Are you hurt?” I continued to pull apart the cellophane, which was a lot more difficult once I thought of him as a gift I was unwrapping because although I was trying to look serious, I had a smile on my face. He looked so sweet, confused and... just my type.

Eventually I was able to free his head and he was able to speak. “It’s not funny.” He seemed pretty shaken.

“No indeed not but are you hurt?”

“Well I banged my leg and my ankle hurts but I won’t know until I’m completely free.”

“No, yes, of course not,” I began to add a bit more effort into releasing him from his see-through shroud.

I’d managed to shred it enough for him to move but all the time I kept looking at him and saw just what a cute lad he was... maybe he was a present.

“What were the chances of that happening?” I helped him to his feet and saw him grimace a little when he put weight on his right ankle.


“Oh be careful. Look do you live near...”

“About a mile away I was with...erm... where the hell... um... just...” He looked confused. “Did you see the guy I was with?”

“I didn’t see you with anyone... did you get a bang on the head?”

He looked around some more and then down at what he was wearing as if for the first time he was aware of where he was.

“Erm,” he looked embarrassed because the loose reins came into view as he turned adding another level of cuteness to this ‘present’.

I jumped in. “If you think you can make it I live just down the road there,” and nodded towards the cul-de-sac, “let me take a look at your ankle and see if there’s anything else you might have... injured.”

The thing was I could smell urine and wondered if he might have wet himself under duress and of course, the reason for the morning delivery came into focus. They’re meant for you, I thought, not me... and I put my arm around his shoulder and let him rest his weight on mine as he hopped the short distance back to my house.

“Well this,” I said by way of conversation, “takes the biscuit. It’s been a strange morning already and...”

I heard him mumble “Tell me about it” under his breath but I thought it might be best to leave the chat until he was safely home and I could check him out in case he needed any treatment. There’s a Minor Injuries Unit hospital not far away so I could drive him there if he needed anything strapping or sewn up.

Of course, the first thing he saw on entering my house was the large open box in the hallway, and the packages of disposables I’d checked before leaving.

He looked at me and still a little unsure said in a very small voice... “Umm Daddy?”

Now I’m not stupid and was quick to connect all the dots so far today and I reckoned that someone somewhere had decided that I needed somebody in my life. I’m not sure if it was a reward for being a Good Samaritan or if I’d had a wish, perhaps had unknowingly met a Genie (ha-ha) and hadn’t known about it but this boy, this lad, this Gift, was certainly worth acknowledging.

I patted his inflated padding “Certainly looks like it son.” He needed my help and protection... he needed looking after “Let me see what damage has been done... and then I’ll change your wet nappy, OK?”

He looked both stunned and stunning but there was no doubt that somewhere along his journey the experience had made him wet himself.

“OK” although his voice was low he smiled a wonderful innocent smile and looked relieved. “Did you know I was coming?” Again his question was loaded with uncertainty.

“I didn’t... but someone did” I mused “However, for now, let daddy check that ankle.”

“OK, thank you,” and with that he relaxed onto my sofa.

Like my cat, who was still sleeping on her chair, he looked like he belonged. I don’t know how or why it’s happened but thank god it has.

Yes, I thought, he’s just about perfect... my little boy is home.

Meanwhile... erm... belief in a Fairy Godfather?

There’s a gorgeous hunk of a man checking I’m not injured and he’s doing it with such care.

My stranger/ burglar was nowhere to be seen and as this Knight in Shining Armour hadn’t noticed me with anyone... where the hell had he disappeared to?

Anyway, this guy has a stack of nappies so it can’t be a coincidence. That burglar who’d invaded my home said I was meeting a...

Bloody hell, is this the man... the man to be... umm daddy? The words slipped out before I knew it and did he just say he’s going to change my nappy?

What was it the burglar said, something like “You don’t believe in demons and angels, vampires or werewolves... fairies and...”?

‘Had he been my Fairy Godfather?’ I asked myself incredulously.

I mean, look at me, the way I’m dressed? I wouldn’t have worn this on purpose, um, would I? Not that I don’t like it, it was all the rage when I was a toddler but now I just feel... well... to be honest... it feels just about the most comfortable thing I’ve ever worn.

I wiggled my butt and the padding felt pretty soaked... then I had another thought.

Oh hell, I’ve just been delivered to my daddy, perhaps not in an orthodox way but still, here I am and, from the box of disposables, it looks like he was expecting me.

He’s strong, he all but carried me back, he’s tall and hairy and has sensitive eyes... and the way his soft gentle fingers are inspecting my foot for damage... mmmmmm I could get used to this.

Yes? I thought, he’s just about perfect... I hope he likes me.

“Erm I’m Martin.” It was strange that only now I’d decided to tell him my name.

“Oh hello Marty, I’m David... but from now on... you can call me...”

Marty? Yes I thought I like that... and certainly liked what he wanted me to call him.

####### The End #######


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