Betty Pearl's Sissy Stories 20.1
Sissy Story Archives (older stories) => Pre-2011 Sissy Stories => Topic started by: DaraJaney on December 18, 2006, 03:18:25 PM
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Alan couldn’t believe he was letting his mother do this. She had to bribe him, of course. He focussed on the playstation she had promised him.
She had always wanted a baby girl and since his father left them last year, she had been quite depressed at the realisation that she would probably never have one. So she begged and bribed Alan to dress up as a baby girl for just a few hours so that she could pretend and maybe take a few photos for posterity.
Alan had stripped down to his underpants. His mother stood before him holding what looked like an old-fashioned cloth nappy. He winced. “Do I really have to wear a real nappy?” His mother nodded firmly. “It just won’t look right unless there is a big bulge around your bottom”, she reasoned.
He lay down on the carpet and let her wrap the cloth nappy around him. She pinned it in place. He was about to get up but she pressed him back. She shook out a pair of plastic pants. He frowned. Being unfamiliar with cloth nappies, he had no idea of the significance of the plastic pants. His mother pulled them up his legs and over his nappy.
The door opened and Mrs. Fulton came in. She smiled on seeing Alan in the nappy. He clasped his hands in front of his nappy in a pretty futile attempt to conceal it. Then he saw the baby costume she was holding. His shoulders sagged. Did he really have to wear that? He looked at his mother but she was rushing over to take the dress from Mrs. Fulton.
She held it up. It was a big pink frilly dress. Alan had no idea what all of the frilly white bits were called but there were lots of them. His mother pulled up the hem of the dress and there were more white lacey bits underneath.
Alan was frozen with horror as she came towards him enthusiastically with the dress, so she had no difficulty in getting it on him. He was zipped in before he knew it. The women stood back and admired him in the baby dress. Alan looked down at all the pink and white and then looked away with embarrassment. He tried to think about the playstation. A few hours of this and then tomorrow he would have the game all to himself.
Next thing his mother was holding out a pair of pants for him to step into. He looked down and caught a glimpse of pink lace before it disappeared under the hem of his flared dress. She had to guide his feet into the panties and she pulled them up under his dress and over his nappy.
Mrs. Fulton came over with a pink bonnet which she placed on his head with delight. She fastened it in place under his chin with thick pink ribbons that tied in a bow.
With both women working on him, he was quickly being turned into the perfect baby girl. His mother produced a large pink soother which hung from a loop of ribbon. She draped it around his neck and pushed the soother into his mouth.
When her back was turned he spat the soother out again. He didn’t have to suc-k on it until they were ready. But the big soother dangled annoyingly on the front of his chest.
Mrs. Fulton flapped out a pair of white ankle socks that had pink lace around the tops. She put these on his feet and fluffed out the lace. Then she strapped a pair of black t-bar shoes on his feet. The women stood back again to admire him.
Alan couldn’t see his shoes and socks because of his enormous dress so he bent forward and pushed his dress down to get a look. When he saw the pretty lace on his socks, he was sorry he looked. Then he realised that his dress was so short that he must be showing off his frilly panties at the back as he bent over so he straightened up again quickly.
Mrs. Fulton smiled and said “come here and we’ll let you see yourself properly”. She steered him towards the door. Alan found that he was practically waddling, his nappy was so thick. She brought him out the door and across the corridor. She opened another door and brought him in.
Alan was impressed. It was just like an out-sized nursery. There was a wooden-barred play-pen, a cot, a high-chair, a rocking-horse – all sized up proportionally so that he would look just like a baby beside them.
He wondered why Mrs. Fulton had all of this stuff. He looked around the walls and saw several portraits of pretty baby girls all around. As he studied them he realised that they were all taken in this room. That meant that the subjects were not real baby girls. Many of them were clearly straining to maintain the fake smiles behind their soothers.
He wondered if some of them were actually boys. It was very hard to tell. With the bonnets covering up their hair and underneath all the lace and ribbons how could anyone know for sure? Did lots of mothers come here to see their sons dressed like baby girls?
Mrs. Fulton led him over to a full length mirror. She picked up a doll as she passed the cot and handed it to Alan. She pushed the soother into his mouth and turned him to face the mirror.
Alan was stunned. He looked just like the baby girls in the pictures. Mrs. Fulton stepped back out of his view and he looked just like a real baby girl clutching her dolly among the nursery furniture, his legs spread apart by the thick nappy.
His mother came over to admire him. She turned him around and he looked over his shoulder to see how he looked from the back. He realised that his dress was very short indeed. He bent over just a little and immediately saw a row of pink lace on his panties.
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Mrs. Fulton led him over towards an arm chair in the corner. She motioned him to sit down. He went to sit down and then wondered should he smooth his dress underneath his bottom as he sat. He swept an arm under the back of his dress but realised that it was so short, there was no point. He sat down and his dress spread out around him.
The two women fussed over him, setting his bonnet just right, fluffing out the lace on his socks yet again, straightening the hem on his dress. His mother made him close his knees together and tilt them to one side daintily.
Then Mrs. Fulton set up her camera on a tripod. They wanted him to smile but he could barely manage it. Since the big soother hid much of his face it didn’t matter that much. The camera flashed and a Polaroid slid out. He was relieved to see that at least there would only be no copies.
They made him pose in the high-chair, in the play-pen and in the cot. He had to straddle the rocking-horse too, while Mrs. Fulton clicked away happily.
As he stood beside the cot he noticed his mother looking pensive. “Do you have a shorter dress?” she asked. Alan’s eyes widened in surprise. Even shorter than this dress? “We can’t see those pretty panties”, his mother said.
Alan had a really hurt look on his face as they pulled off his baby dress. One might have thought that he’d be relieved to get it off but not if it meant he had to wear one even shorter.
The second dress was a powder pink and it was puffed out even further with layers of what his mother called petticoats. When he was turned towards the mirror he was distraught to see that three rows of pink lace on his frilly panties were clearly visible. “That’s much better”, his mother said. “We can see his nappy clearly now.” There followed another round of photos.
Alan was so relieved to get out of that dress. His mother pulled down his plastic pants and unpinned the nappy which was quite moist with sweat. He was never so glad in his life to pull on a pair of trousers again.
The next day the play-station was delivered and he spent nearly all of his free time playing on it. About a week later at school he noticed a gaggle of his classmates in a corner of the schoolyard. They were gathered in a circle all straining to see something in the middle. He could hear roars of laughter.
He ran over to see what was so funny. One of the children in the huddle saw him approach. “Here he is!” she shouted. Alan froze. The huddle broke up. They all turned to look at Alan and they roared laughing. Many of them pointed at him while they held their sides with the laughter.
He only caught a glimpse of one photo but it was enough to tell him that they had somehow obtained photos of his day in the nursery. Alan turned and ran. He could still hear the laughter as he sprinted out the school gate and down the road.
He was in tears when he got home. He roared at his mother. How could she let anyone get copies of the photos? His life was over. How could he face his schoolmates again after they had seen him dressed in a nappy and baby dress posing like a baby girl?
He spent the whole evening splayed out on his bed. He could hear kids out on the street shouting up at his window. “Is the big sissy baby in his cot?” “Is your nappy wet?”
The next morning he refused to even get out of bed. His mother told him he had to go to school eventually. She had no idea how they had obtained the photos but it would soon blow over. Alan did not think it was that simple. He would be mortified. Even the sissiest girl in school would give him a hard time. There was absolutely no way he was going back and that was that.
He heard his mother on the phone downstairs. A while later a car pulled up outside. He heard his mother talking to a woman who sounded familiar.
They came up to his room. It was Mrs. Fulton. “This is your last chance”, his mother told him. “You have to go to school.” He shook his head firmly and buried it in his pillow.
“Alright, well there is one way you can stay at home.” Alan looked up in curiosity. “Only babies stay at home with their mother”, she said, “so if you stay at home then it’s back into nappies for you.” He buried his head again in frustration. How could she be so stupid?
“For the last time, are you going back to school?” she asked again. “There’s no way in the world that I’m going back to that school”, he said, though it was muffled by the pillow.
“Right”, his mother said. The two women pulled at him and removed his tee-shirt and shorts. Mrs. Fulton pinned his shoulders down while his mother wrapped the cloth nappy around his bottom and pinned him in. Then she pulled up the plastic pants and carefully tucked the cloth inside the elasticated legs.
Mrs. Fulton held out one of Alan’s hands by the wrist. Alan looked up wondering what she was doing. His mother pulled a fingerless mitten over his hand and tied it tightly at the wrist. They then did the same with his other hand.
The two women stood up and looked down at the boy who was studying the mittens. He struggled to get them off his hands but it was pointless – they made his hands useless.
His mother crossed her arms on her chest crossly. “This is you’re final chance. Are you going back to school?” Alan scowled at her. No matter what predicament he was in here, it was nothing compared to going back to face his schoolmates who had all seen him dressed and acting like a baby girl.
“Right, it’s your choice”, his mother concluded. They pulled the powder pink dress over his head and he was soon dressed in the frilly panties and bonnet. He didn’t put up much resistance. He was determined to prove his point by demonstrating that even this was better than having to go back to school.
Mrs. Fulton left the room while his mother put the frilly ankle socks on his feet. He just watched grimly as she fastened the t-bar shoes on him.
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His mother brought him downstairs. Mrs. Fulton had set up a large play-pen in the front room. This was getting ridiculous, Alan decided. He resisted but his mother pushed him into the pen and closed the side rail. “Now sit down”, she instructed him. He sighed heavily but sat down in the pen. She hung the soother over his neck and pushed it into his mouth. Mrs. Fulton held a doll out towards him. He crossed his arms firmly so she sat it down beside him.
“Now you stay there”, his mother instructed, wagging a finger. Alan looked around the play-pen. He could easily get out but why bother? Where was he going to go? He was hardly going to run out the door wearing a baby dress.
The two women left the room and closed the door. They went out to the car again. Alan saw his mother glance through the net curtains to check that he was still in the pen. He spat out the soother.
The women went in and out to the car several times. Sometimes they went upstairs and sometimes to the kitchen.
Eventually they came back in to the front room. His mother was carrying some kind of harness. She pulled it over his arms and buckled it around his chest. He looked down to see that the chest band was decorated with pink and blue fairies. She yanked the reins to indicate that he was to stand up.
Alan was quickly getting tired of this ridiculous carry on but he stood up. Mrs. Fulton opened the side of the pen. Alan wearily walked out and wondered what was next. Mrs. Fulton walked towards the door and he followed, his mother kept him on a short rein.
He was led upstairs again. He plodded up the stairs and back into his bedroom. To his great surprise there was a large cot in the middle of the room. He sighed again. Were they going mad? “Mum!” he protested wearily. She shoved the soother back in his mouth. “Now, now! Babies don’t talk.”
Mrs. Fulton lowered the side of the cot. His mother pushed him to get in. “Why don’t you try it out?” she said. He obediently climbed in. Mrs. Fulton replaced the side bars and they clicked in place. He was getting really tired of this. He spat out the soother. “Please Mum!” With a cross look on her face she pushed the soother back in, took the ribbon attached to it and tied it tightly behind his head. The soother was now firmly held in his mouth. He groaned in protest.
The two women went over to the wardrobe. His mother opened it while Mrs. Fulton flapped out a large black plastic sack. His mother took a pile of shirts and threw them into the sack.
Alan was looking on with shock from the cot. “Mmffff” he protested. His mother threw some of his sweaters into the sack. They appeared to be throwing out all of his clothes! “Mmfff” he grunted and he shook the bars of his cot. His mother stopped and looked at him. “You decided to stay at home as a baby girl rather than go back to school, so you’re not going to need these clothes anymore.”
Alan was panicking now. He shook the bars desperately. He tried to spit out the soother but it was held firmly in his mouth. He wanted to protest that he didn’t choose to stay at home in nappies and baby dresses – certainly not indefinitely – but it just came out as “mmppfff! mmppfff!”
His mother threw all of his pairs of trousers into the bag. Alan examined the catch holding the side bars of his cot in place. There was a small lever that needed to be pulled over but there was no way he could budge it with his hands in these mittens. He shook the bars again in frustration and uttered “mmmfff!” again.
The women continued to calmly fill the bag with his clothes. Mrs. Fulton left the room for a few minutes. She returned carrying four more baby dresses on hangers. She brought them over to Alan’s wardrobe and hung them there. She admired the white pinafore on the lemon dress. She pulled up the hem of the lilac dress and ran her fingers through the layers of petticoats.
His mother tied the top of the plastic bag and then stopped to examine Alan’s new dresses. She held one up and looked over at him clearly trying to imagine him in it. He stopped his shaking of the bars of the cot momentarily and looked at the dress. If anything it was even shorter than the dress he was wearing.
Alan got up on his feet in the cot. “Ah, ah!” his mother called out as she came over to him. She took hold of his reins and pulled him back down on his knees. She tied the reins to a leg of the cot so that he could no longer stand up.
Alan strained on his harness, he shook the bars of his cot again and he desperately tried to spit out the soother but he was trapped in the cot and unable to utter anything other than muffled groans.
Mrs. Fulton opened a drawer of the dresser. She took another plastic bag and started filling it with Alan’s underwear and socks. Meanwhile his mother was taking pairs of frilly bloomers, bonnets and lacey socks and began stacking them in the drawers.
She looked over at Alan. Tears were streaming down his face now. He sat on the backs of his legs having given up his futile shaking of the bars. The second plastic bag was tied. As the two women passed his cot carrying the bags he looked up at them desperately. His muffled pleas sounded more like wimpers now.
He watched as they disappeared out the door with his old clothes. He heard them go down the stairs and out to the car. He looked worriedly at his wardrobe full of his new baby dresses. He had no idea that they intended to keep him dressed as a baby girl indefinitely until it was too late to do anything about it.
He flopped down in the cot and cried profusely. The women heard his sobs as they came back into the room. He looked up and watched through the bars as they stripped his bed. Then they took either end and brought it from the room as he resumed crying heavily.
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A few minutes later the women came in the door steering a table into the corner of the room previously occupied by his bed. His mother reappeared with a stack of nappies and plastic pants. This made Alan sit up in his cot again. He looked at the pile of nappies that she placed on the table with great concern. “Mmppff?”
Mrs. Fulton took a load of bottles and tubes from a box. Alan read the labels. “Baby powder.” “Anti nappy rash cream.” Then a carton of baby wipes. It appeared that they were going to make him actually use his nappy! “Mmppff!” he pleaded with his mother as she passed the cot again. She completely ignored him and the women left the room again.
He stared blankly at the changing table. Then he decided he needed to look somewhere else. He turned to the other side of his cot. He was facing the dresser mirror. He saw himself clutching the bars of the cot. He looked at his pink dress, the frilly panties protruding underneath, the crescent of lace around his bonnet, the tear tracks down either side of his soother.
Eventually his mother returned. She deftly flicked the latch on the side bars and let them down. She helped him out of the cot. “Down to the kitchen”, she ordered as she untied his reins and took them in her hands.
When he got to the stairs, he couldn’t see the steps because of his voluminous dress so he clutched the banisters as he went down sideways, one careful step at a time.
He waddled into the kitchen to find a big high-chair in the middle of the floor. Mrs. Fulton was holding the tray of it up so that he could climb in. He looked pleadingly at his mother but she urged him on. He sat up into the high-chair and Mrs. Fulton swung the tray in front of him and it clicked into place. “There. He’ll be safe as houses there now and you can work around the kitchen without worrying that he’ll hurt himself or anything.”
His mother brought over a baby bottle full of purple liquid while Mrs. Fulton tied a terry bib around his neck. “Now are you going to take your bottle for Mummy?” Alan eyed the bottle warily. He gave a pained look. “Or we can leave your dummy tied in if you prefer.” Alan sighed and gave a barely perceptible nod.
Mrs. Fulton untied his soother and he let the it drop down and hang from his neck. He moved his jaw around to give it some much needed exercise but his mother jammed the teat of the bottle into his mouth.
He started suc-king the juice. He winced at the first taste and stopped suc-king. “Come on now. Mummy knows best. Baby has to do what Mummy says.” He reluctantly started suc-king again and despite repeated winces, continued to work his way oh so slowly through the bottle.
After a few minutes his mother instructed him to hold the bottle up himself. He was just about able to hold it in his mittens. She walked away and left him suc-king on the bottle.
He thought he would never get through the disgusting liquid. He finally put down the bottle. “Ah, ah!” Mrs. Fulton said. She held up the bottle and showed that there was a millimetre left at the bottom. Alan sighed and took the bottle again and suc-ked a few times until it was totally empty.
Mrs. Fulton walked away with the bottle saying “that will get him moving”. Before Alan could fully figure out what she meant, his mother arrived with a bowl of green pureed vegetables. She held up a spoonful and pushed it purposefully towards his mouth. He opened his mouth obediently and she shoved it in. He closed his mouth over the spoon and she withdrew it. He chewed a few times and winced bitterly. It must have been sprouts or cabbage or something that he hated.
He held the mush in his mouth, bracing himself before swallowing it. Eventually he swallowed and shuddered. His mother was holding up another spoonful. He looked at her with a desperately sad expression. “Come on. This is what baby has to eat now.” He fought back the tears as he opened his mouth. He noted the implication that this was what he was going to be eating from now on.
Tears rolled down his face as the full realisation hit him that his mother had every intention of treating him just like a baby girl for the foreseeable future. The juice would obviously soon cause him to soil his nappy.
He now had a changing table with an ample supply of nappies, a wardrobe full of baby dresses, a cot where his bed used to be and his old clothes were gone out in the garbage. He realised that this seemed to be his new life now as his mother carefully scraped up the last of the vegetable mash from the bowl.
He was sniffling badly by the time she finished his feeding. “Now there you are” she said softly as she slid his soother in. “That’ll help.” He just sat there staring at her. “You need to nurse it”, she said, mimicking a couple of suc-ks. She obviously wasn’t going to go away until he did so he suc-ked on his soother a couple of times. She smiled and walked away.
He examined the mittens again to try to find some way of taking them off. They were fastened tightly at the wrist. They were clearly carefully designed to make his hands practically useless. He tried to move the tray away in front of him but it was clipped in place. He looked around either side but could see no clip to open. He knew he would probably not be able to open it even if he could see it.
He had to accept that he would have to stay in the high-chair until he was let out of it. He just sat there and watched his mother clean up around the kitchen. He could feel the pressure starting to build on his bladder. He nursed on the soother again at the realisation that he would soon have to wet his nappy.
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He looked over at his mother, busying herself at the sink. He wondered if there was any point in pleading to be allowed use the toilet.
When his mother was finished she came over, reached under the tray of his high-chair and easily opened the catch. He was brought back to the play-pen. Mrs. Fulton put on her coat. “If there is anything else you need just give me a call”, she said brightly. She looked down on the boy in the play-pen. “You be a good baby for your Mummy now, won’t you?” She looked up at his mother. “He’s going to be just perfect!” His mother saw her out. “I’ll bring over a selection of suitable toys tomorrow”, he heard Mrs. Fulton said.
When his mother returned he looked up with an angelic face. He pointed to his nappy. “Oh, are you wet dear?” He shook his head and gave a pleading look. “Well let me know when you are love”, she said as she walked out into the kitchen. Alan sat there now in the knowledge that he was going to have to wet his nappy and wondering how long he could hold out.
His mother boiled the kettle. When it had come to the boil and switched itself off, she heard whimpering from the front room. She stuck her head around the door. Alan was looking up with a tear stained face. “Wet?” He nodded and bowed his head.
She helped him to his feet. She felt around the tops of his legs. “That’s good. The plastic panties are keeping all the wet in alright”, she said. “Do you think you might want to do a number 2 soon?” she asked. Alan thought about it. He probably would. He nodded uncertainly. “OK. Well, I’ll think I’ll leave you until you do that then. There’s no point in changing you if you’re only going to soil yourself in another few minutes.”
Alan sat back down very gingerly. He could feel some excess pee swishing about in the bottom of his plastic panties and couldn’t believe it would all be held in when he put pressure on it by sitting down. Within a couple of minutes he wet himself again.
When his mother came in again he was concentrating on the imminent number 2. He realised that he couldn’t do it sitting down. He got up on his knees. His mother looked over her magazine and smiled. “There’s a good baby.” He couldn’t believe he was going to do this but he clearly had no option. He pushed and a poo came out easily and plopped into his nappy.
There was more to come but he cried profusely before trying again. His mother came over and knelt beside the pen. “Don’t worry love. You’ll get used to it. Soon you’ll wet and soil your nappy without even thinking about it.” He cried even harder.
Eventually, he looked up at his mother with a tear-streaked face and she knew he was all done. “Good baby. I’ll change you now in a minute. Just sit back down.” Alan looked troubled. He really didn’t want to have to sit. His mess would surely be squashed all around his bottom if he did that. His mother went off into the kitchen.
Rather than stay frozen on his hands and knees indefinitely, he turned and sat very carefully. He grimaced as he felt and heard the mess squish under him. He was no sooner seated again but his mother came in and opened the side of his pen.
He went to get up. He could feel the cloth nappy sticking to his bottom. His mother led him to the foot of the stairs where he stopped for a moment. She watched him carefully for a moment before realising that he was probably wetting himself again. He stood there absolutely mortified as his nappy was further saturated.
He was crying again by the time it stopped. “There, there”, his mother consoled him. “It’s perfectly natural. You just suc-k on your soother and Mummy will take care of you.”
She brought him to the changing table. He lay back and looked at the ceiling. His mother hummed happily as she tapped his bottom to make him raise it. When he did she pulled his frilly panties down. Next she removed his plastic panties and dropped them in a bucket beside the table.
The stink hit him then but his mother continued singing to herself as if she found this to be a delightful exercise – and indeed she did. “We’re going to have such fun”, she enthused, “with you as a baby again.” He raised his head and looked at her incredulously. She was deftly unpinning his nappy. He raised his bum again and she peeled the nappy off. He heard it plop into the bucket.
He heard her tear off sheets of paper towels and she set about cleaning him. He fixed his eyes on the ceiling until she asked him to turn over. She wiped his bottom firmly several times. He lay there on his tummy with no choice but to let her clean him up.
Then she worked over him with baby-wipes. He had to turn forwards again for her. Then he saw her take a shaving razor. With no explanation she started shaving the hair from around his groin. “Mmmfff?” “I have to remove all hair from your nappy area”, she explained. When he was fully shaved she took a cream and rubbed it all over his groin and bottom.
She was humming again when she took the clean nappy to put on him. She pulled it up between his legs and pinned it on him. She took a clean pair of plastic panties and pulled them up over his nappy. She pulled his legs up in the air as she checked that the nappy was tucked inside the elasticated legs all the way around. Then his frilly panties were restored.
She brought him back downstairs and put him in his pen. She went to the kitchen for a few minutes and returned with a baby bottle full of warm milk which she handed to him. He didn’t need another drink but he supposed he had better do what was expected so he started suc-king on it. His mother smiled. “That’s a good baby.”
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As he suc-ked on his bottle his mother turned the TV on to the Childrens’ Channel and left him there in front of it. He wasn’t much interested in the stupid programmes that were on. He just sat there wondering how he had ended up in this situation. Unless they were pulling an extremely elaborate joke, he seemed now destined to be kept in nappies and baby dresses.
Tears welled up in his eyes again as he thought about this. He suc-ked on his bottle. The warm milk provided some comfort. But in what seemed like little time the bottle was empty. He looked at it carefully, hoping he could drain a little more but it was all gone. The tears started to return. He put the bottle down and reinserted his dummy. He suc-ked on it a couple of times. It wasn’t as comforting without the jet of warm milk but it was better than nothing.
Later he was brought back into the kitchen and put in his high chair while his mother made dinner. She handed him his bottle with juice this time. The last thing he needed was more liquid. He was already feeling the need to fill another nappy but he was so bored he started suc-king on it anyway.
When the dinner was cooked, he was intensely disappointed to be presented with another bowl of mashed vegetables. He looked wistfully around the kitchen hoping that there was something better coming but his mother inserted a spoonful and continued until the bowl was empty.
She left him sitting in the high chair while she fetched her own dinner and sat down. He looked longingly at the steak on her plate. She looked up at him before she started and was pleased to see he had taken his soother and was suc-king – not quite contentedly.
He was returned to the play-pen but his mother had moved it to the back room away from the TV. She watched her soaps in the other room while he wondered what amusement could be gleaned from the dolls that were his only accompaniment in the pen.
It wasn’t long before he had to wet himself again. He frowned as the warmth spread around his nappy. “Mmmfff”, he called out. “What’s wrong dear?” “Mmmffff!” “Are you wet, Babykins?” “Mmff.” “Just wait until this programme is over and I’ll sort you out.” He sat there glumly waiting for the familiar signature tune.
As she pulled his plastic panties up over his clean nappy she chirpily said “nearly bed-time.” He looked at the clock in surprise. It was only 8.30. She went over to the chest of drawers and produced what looked like a pink fleecy body-suit. She pulled it over his two feet first and made him jump down from the changing table, ignoring his frustrated moans that he was being put to bed so early.
She pulled the over-sized pink romper suit up and poked his arms into the sleeves. She zipped it up the front. He looked down at the garment and where it bulged obviously over his nappy. His hands and feet were completely contained within it.
She led him to his cot. He continued to groan through his soother but she put him in the cot and lifted the side-bars. “Now I don’t have to strap you in, do I?” Alan looked down and frowned but shook his head. What would be the point of getting out of the cot? It would probably only get him into worse trouble. (What could possibly be worse than being kept in nappies and baby clothes?) It was just as boring sitting in the play-pen anyway.
“Back in a minute”, she told him. While she was gone he poked and pulled as best he could at his romper but he was well and truly zipped in. She returned in a minute with a bottle of milk. He grimaced at the prospect of yet another bottle but it wasn’t so bad when he tasted that nice warm milk.
She made him lie down while he suc-ked on the bottle and she pulled the Minnie Mouse duvet over him. She pottered around the room. He watched her through the bars of his cot. She placed a radio on the dressing table beside the cot and switched it on. “Now you’ll probably wet yourself during the night, so just cry into this and I’ll come and change you.”
Alan stopped suc-king on the bottle when he realised that it was going to make him wet himself during the night. “Now, now”, she scolded, “you must finish your bottle” and she held it in his mouth until he started suc-king again very reluctantly.
She waited until he had finished every drop and then took the bottle from him. She fetched his soother and pinned it to his romper before pushing it into his mouth. She handed him a teddy bear which he held under his arm.
“Sweet dreams”, she whispered as she backed away from the cot. Sweet dreams? This was more like a nightmare. She switched off the light and closed over the door leaving it slightly ajar.
Alan could see that it was still bright outside. There was also a nightlight plugged in at the corner of the room. Again, he couldn’t get his mind off the long-term implications of his predicament. He felt that he really ought to resist this treatment. He removed the soother and threw teddy to the end of the cot.
A few minutes later he sensed a presence. His mother was peeping in the door. When she saw he was still wide awake she came in. “Oh, can Babykins not sleep?” He glared at her. “Oh you’ve lost your soother.” She found it among the bed clothes and pushed it back in. “And what happened teddy?” She retrieved him and handed him to Alan.
“I know!” she concluded. Alan looked up. “I must get some nursery rhyme tapes and play them for you every night to help you sleep.” He sighed and she tucked him in again and left the room.
It was another hour before he finally nodded off. The soother slipped out of his mouth but his arm was still wrapped firmly around his teddy.
-
Alan woke several times. Each time he wondered what the uncomfortable bulge around his bottom was before remembering that he was in a nappy and sleeping in a cot. He looked through the bars at the clock and saw that only half an hour or an hour had gone by.
Each time he woke the pressure on his bladder was growing. By 3am he couldn’t sleep anymore with the pain of needing to go. He lay back and peed a little. The warm urine ran quickly down around his bottom. Then he let go. He kept going for what seemed like a couple of minutes. Surely the nappy could not hold all this, he thought.
He was afraid to move but as far as he could tell all of his pee had been contained within the plastic panties. They certainly felt very heavy with the saturation. He looked through the bars at the baby monitor.
He knew that he could get out of the cot but reckoned he had better not. She had told him to cry rather than call out. He was in enough trouble as it was so he figured he should do what he was told.
He tried to imitate a baby’s cry. “Waaa!” He repeated this a few times. He couldn’t hear any reaction. He went to get up on his knees and lean as close as possible to the monitor. Excess urine swished about in his panties and made him move more gingerly.
He leaned over the side bars and cried again. After a few more whinges he heard movement. The door was pushed open. His mother was yawning and rubbing her eyes. “What’s wrong dear?” Alan pointed to his nappy. “Oh are we wet dear?” He nodded. “No number 2s?” He shook his head.
“Where’s your soother?” He watched crossly as she searched around the cot. “There we are!” She pushed it into his mouth. “That’s better. No more tears.” She lowered the side bars and let him out. She unzipped his romper and he stepped out of it. He moved very carefully, still unsure of the nappy’s capacity. She took the teddy bear and gave it to him.
He lay back on the changing table suc-king on his soother and holding his teddy while his mother removed the soaked nappy. “My goodness”, she said as the sodden nappy sploshed into the bucket heavily, “I think you may need thicker nappies to hold all that.” He wanted to say “well don’t make me drink so much” but he just suc-ked on his soother, unhappy at the prospect of an even thicker and more obvious nappy.
“There we go”, she said as she lowered his legs having satisfied herself that his nappy was fully within the elasticated panties. He jumped down off the table and she helped him back into his romper. She patted his well padded bottom as he waddled towards his cot.
He lay down again. She pulled the duvet over him and locked the side bars in place. “See you in the morning”, she whispered. Once she was gone, he removed the dummy and threw teddy to the bottom of the cot.
He woke very early, not needing all the sleep time he was getting. He lay there for a couple of hours again contemplating his fate. Was she really going to put him in his cot for nearly twelve hours every night?
Eventually she came in bright and breezy. “How’s my little Babykins? Did we have a lovely sleep?” He glared at her. She went over to his wardrobe and opened the doors. “Now which pretty dress do you want to wear today, hmm?” Obviously, Alan didn’t want to wear any of them.
She took the four hangers and held them up. She pulled out the skirt of each dress in turn so he could see. “Come on love, or I’ll have to pick.” They all looked so sissyish he didn’t think there was much difference. He decided to pick the one that was marginally longer than the others. He pointed with a mitten. His mother held out the lilac dress. “This one?” He nodded.
She let him out of the cot, took off his romper and pulled the dress over his head. As she smoothed down his skirt and the three layers of petticoats underneath, Alan checked the mirror. The dress just barely covered his nappy. That was some relief.
His mother stepped back and admired him. “Good choice”, she decided. “Now, we have matching tights for this dress”, she told him as she headed for the drawers. Alan winced. Tights? His mother took the lilac tights from the drawer and flapped them out as she walked towards him. “Mmmfff!” “Yes aren’t they gorgeous?”
She made him sit on the side of the bed and started to pull the tights over his feet. “Mmmfff! Mmmfff!” he moaned in protest. She ignored his pleas and pulled the tights up over his nappy.
She returned to the drawers and retrieved a pair of white bloomers. Alan winced again when he saw them. They had lilac bows on the side of the legs and four rows of thick lilac lace across the bottom.
His mother pulled the bloomers on over his tights and nappy. The legs of the bloomers protruded several inches beneath his dress – almost to his knees. His mother turned him around to see the back of the dress in the mirror. He looked over his shoulder. The bottom row of lace on his bottom could be clearly seen.
He looked ruefully at his chosen outfit in the mirror while his mother fetched the matching bonnet. It had an enormous lace-trimmed stiff crescent of material around the top. When his mother placed it on his head and tied the ribbon under his chin the crescent was drawn into a tight funnel around his face so that he could only see directly in front and his view was completely framed with lace.
Once his booties were tied on, his mother stood him in front of the mirror again. “Now aren’t you pleased with your choice?” Alan just gave a couple of suc-ks on his soother as he looked at his thoroughly baby-like image in the mirror.
-
Just after Alan’s mother started spoon-feeding him his milk-soaked rusks, the doorbell rang. She put the bowl and spoon down on the tray of his high-chair and turned to go towards the front door. Then she stopped, came back and popped the soother into his mouth. “Won’t be a minute”, she chirped.
It was Mrs. Fulton. “How is our little baby doing this morning?” she asked brightly, looking past his mother at Alan in his high-chair. His mother looked at him and smiled proudly.
“I’ve brought some toys for the baby”, Mrs. Fulton announced. The women came into the kitchen and she placed a large box on the table. They went through the assorted baby toys. His mother shook a rattle and smiled at him. He glared at her. She brought the rattle over to him. He looked at the mitten on his hand and realised that he couldn’t even hold a rattle. “Take it between both hands”, his mother instructed. He clamped the rattle between both mittens. His mother stood back expectantly. He shook it once. “There! Good baby.”
She returned to the box and left Alan holding the rattle. He looked down at his bowl of rusks. They tasted pretty gross, but he was hungry. His mother was more interested in the toys.
There was a little drum. A tin xylophone with five notes. “He should be able to manage most of these toys”, Mrs. Fulton said. “It’s mostly just things he can hit or shake or hold. He can’t do much more than that of course.” Alan looked gloomily at the box. It looked like that was about exciting as things were going to get for him.
He gave a little groan through his soother. His mother looked at him. “What’s wrong honey, do you want to play with your new toys?” He looked down at his rusks and kicked his legs to indicate frustration. She smiled and came over to him. She took the soother from his mouth and resumed feeding him. “Sorry dear, I forgot how much you love your rusks.”
When he was fed, he was brought to the play-pen and his new toys had been placed in it. “You play away there while we have coffee”, his mother told him. He looked unenthusiastically at the baby toys on offer.
The women went into the kitchen. Alan had really no interest in these toys. “I don’t hear anything”, his mother called out from the kitchen. He picked up a drum stick with difficulty between his two mittens and started hitting the drum and xylophone. “That’s better.”
When Mrs. Fulton was about to go, she came back in to see him playing in his pen. “I’ve asked Mrs. Lloyd to come over to you this afternoon with her little Joe. He’s been back in nappies now for over a year. She’ll be able to give you lots of tips and advice.”
Alan was shocked to hear of this poor boy kept in nappies for over a year! Then he remembered that this appeared to be his own fate.
The morning and early afternoon continued with his usual series of feedings and changings. The doorbell rang around 3pm. He heard his mother greet Mrs. Lloyd and Joe. “Oh, just look at him! Isn’t he adorable?”
Alan looked towards the door. In walked a boy, probably a year or two older than Alan. He was wearing a satin dress in turquoise with big puffed sleeves and tightly packed layers of petticoats underneath. The dress came only to a few inches below his waist and Alan could see most of his scarlet satin panties with three rows of white lace across the seat. His panties were pulled up over white tights and the obvious bulk of a nappy and he also wore white ankle socks with red lace trimming around the top. His turquoise mop cap rested above a dozen sausage curls.
Alan couldn’t believe that the boy was smiling! And he suc-ked quite unself-consciously on a large soother. “Isn’t his dress just beautiful?” his mother enthused. Joe took the hem of his dress in his fingers on either side and performed a deep curtsey. His ringlets dangled as his did so.
Alan realised that Joe’s hands weren’t even in mittens. He gave every appearance of being quite content to be standing there in a hugely gaudy baby dress, tights and a nappy. Alan wondered would he be so content if he was still in baby dresses and nappies in a year’s time. He was quite sure he wouldn’t.
“Show me those panties”, Alan’s mother prompted him. Joe turned his back to the ladies. He bent over to display the frills on his panties – although it was hardly necessary.
Suddenly, with his back safely to the ladies, the smile disappeared and he gave Alan a thoroughly miserable look. So Alan’s suspicions were confirmed. Even after a year being kept as a baby girl, you would not get used to it. But that thought did not make him feel any better.
When Joe was instructed to turn back around, the sweet smile reappeared before he turned. “Joe just loves his pretty dresses, don’t you?” Joe emitted what sounded like enthusiastic grunts through his soother and curtsied again. “He never wants to go back to being a grown up boy, do you?” Joe hesitated momentarily and the smile slipped a little but he pulled himself together and gurgled again.
“And he’s been in nappies for over a year now?” his mother asked. “Well, he couldn’t do without them now, could you dear?” Joe gave a slightly-embarrassed smile. “You’ll find Alan here will soon lose his control too when he realises that there’s no point in holding on”, Mrs. Lloyd said smiling down at an ashen-faced Alan in the pen.
His mother opened the side of the play-pen. “You two play together for a little, while your mummies chat.” Joe walked into the play-pen and sat down. Alan’s mother clipped the side bars back in place. Alan backed into a corner, uncomfortable with being confined in such a small space with the other boy. But they could not avoid touching against each other.
Joe picked up a dolly and started picking daintily at her dress. Alan looked at him as if he was mad. The ladies went into the kitchen.
-
Alan looked towards the doorway to make sure they were alone. He removed the soother from his mouth. Joe looked shocked that it seemed like Alan was going to speak.
“Are you really in nappies for a year?” Alan whispered. Joe now had a frightened look on his face and he looked towards the kitchen with concern. Then he directed his attention back to his dolly and ignored Alan’s attempt to talk to him.
“It’s OK, they can’t hear from the kitchen”, Alan whispered. But Joe shook his head firmly and pointedly suc-ked on his soother, obviously suggesting that Alan should do the same.
“There’s no need to be afraid”, Alan persisted. Joe gave him a look of disbelief as if to say “that’s what you think.”
Then Alan had an idea. He held out his hands. “Can you undo my mittens?” Joe was appalled at the idea and shook his head firmly. He picked up the drumstick and started banging on the drum, again looking towards the kitchen.
“Please”, Alan begged. There was no reaction. He dropped his hands in frustration. This boy could help him get out of his predicament but wouldn’t. What was he so afraid of? He had spent a year in nappies and dressed like a little baby girl – what more could they do to him?
Then he heard the women coming back. “… and that gives you beautiful firm sausage curls that last for weeks”, Mrs. Lloyd was saying. Alan jammed his soother back in. “It may be a few months before Alan’s hair is long enough. I can’t wait. How are our little darlings?” Joe looked up from his drum and smiled sweetly. Their mothers knelt at the side of the pen. Joe’s mother prompted him to play with various toys and dolls and every time he obediently did everything she said and appeared to love it.
Alan’s mother followed her example but he was much more reluctant to act like a baby and only grudgingly did what she said. He certainly wasn’t going to let anyone think that he enjoyed this.
The women stood up and watched their teenage boys. “Joe looks so happy”, Alan’s mother said, somewhat wistfully, and then looked disapprovingly at her own son.
Mrs. Lloyd took her by the arm and led her back to the kitchen whispering some advice to her as she went. Alan strained to hear but couldn’t. Joe’s smile disappeared again as soon as the women left the room and he gave Alan a rueful look.
When the women returned again Mrs. Lloyd said “time to go dear.” Joe stood up immediately and she let him out of the play-pen. “Would you like to visit Alan every week to play with him?” Joe nodded enthusiastically. “Great”, Alan’s mother said, “they can be play-mates.”
“Bye-bye now”, Joe’s mother said. Joe took his petticoats in his fingers and smiled sweetly while he curtsied. Then he waved his hand enthusiastically. Alan’s mother looked towards him for a reaction. He gave a half-hearted wave from his pen which didn’t please his mother much.
“Come along dear”, Mrs. Lloyd said to Joe. “We must drop in to your cousins on the way home.” Joe’s smile faltered a little. “He has three cousins over in Fairview, Susan, Kylie and Jill. They’re eight, six and four and they love playing with their big baby cousin, don’t they?” Joe did his best to smile. His mother took him by the hand and led him out the door. He glanced back at Alan with a look of dread.
His mother saw them to the door. She came back with a pensive look on her face. “I need to go to the shops before they close.” She looked at Alan in the pen. “Who can I get to baby-sit you while I’m gone?” Alan looked very concerned. “I’ll ring Alice next door and see if she’s there.”
Alan winced. Alice was two-years older than him and a gorgeous blond, very well developed girl. He was goggled eyed whenever he saw her. She always gave the impression of being barely aware of his existence and he was reduced to peeping out his bedroom window towards her room opposite in the hope that she might be careless with the curtains. It had paid off a few times and he had seen her wandering around her room in her underwear. It had only made him more frustrated.
His mother made the call and came back into the room. “Alice will be over here in a minute. She seemed quite keen once I explained to her.” Almost immediately he heard heels running up the footpath and the door rang.
His mother let her in. Alan squirmed in his nappy and baby dress at the prospect of being seen by Alice like this. He had craved her attention but didn’t want it just now. He could feel his cheeks burning and he turned his head aside so that the rim of his bonnet hid his face.
“Would you look at him!” she squealed as she came into the room. Alan wanted to die. “I saw the photos but this is priceless!” His mother stood proudly by. Alan reluctantly turned his head to face them. Alice’s face was bright with joy. When she saw his face framed by the bonnet and the soother in his mouth she doubled over with laughter.
“Babykins, stand up so Alice can see you properly.” Alice laughed. “Babykins!” Alan stood very slowly, trying to put off the inevitable moment when she would see his bloomers. He pushed his petticoats down as much as possible but before he had fully straightened up Alice exploded with laughter again. She pointed under the hem of his dress. “Those bloomers!” She couldn’t say anymore.
His mother came over and made Alan turn around. Then she pushed him slightly to make him bend over. “It’s true!” Alice blurted. “He IS wearing a nappy!” Tears started to form in Alan’s eyes. “And he uses it too”, his mother confirmed helpfully.
By the time Alan turned to face Alice again, tears were streaming down his face. When she saw this, she momentarily felt sorry for him and made a sad face but she couldn’t hold it and burst out laughing again. Alan stood there as her eyes scanned from his bonnet, down to his dress, his petticoats, his bloomers, his tights and his booties.
-
“I won’t be gone for long so if he does anything in his nappy just leave him until I get back”, Alan’s mother told Alice. The girl smiled again at the thought of him sitting in a soggy nappy. “It’s OK. I baby-sit all the time”, Alice assured his mother. “I don’t mind changing wet nappies.” Alan cringed at the thought of her changing his nappy. “Well, it’s up to yourself”, his mother said.
As she went for the door, she turned to Alice again. “Thanks a million for doing this.” “Oh it’s absolutely my pleasure!” Alice replied smiling down at Alan in his play-pen. “You’re to be good for Alice, do you hear?” his mother instructed him. “You’re to do everything she says.” Alan looked warily at Alice, standing there with her arms crossed in a most satisfied manner.
Once his mother was gone, Alice knelt beside the play-pen and told him to play with each of the toys in turn. She relished making him shake the rattles and bang the drum and xylophone.
After a while she went into the kitchen. Alan heard her burst out laughing again. “I just love your high chair”, she said when she returned. She opened the side of his play-pen. “You’ll have to demonstrate it to me.”
Alan got up and walked towards the kitchen. Alice smiled as she studied his baby dress and bloomers again. His petticoats rocked back and forth as he walked and he tried to steady them with his hands as he went. That brought another snigger from her.
She swung up the tray on his high-chair and Alan obediently stepped up and sat in the seat. She put the tray down and it clicked into position. She looked at the catch and at Alan’s mittens and smiled with satisfaction that he would be kept safely in the chair until she decided to let him out.
Alan suc-ked on his soother cautiously as Alice studied his lilac clad legs as they dangled from the chair. She found a baby bottle and filled it with juice. “Now, Babykins”, she said and she blurted laughing. “Here’s your botty-watty”, she said in a babyish voice waving it in front of his face. “Is the baby-waby going to suc-k on his botty-watty?” Alan glared at her.
When she pushed the teat towards his lips he took it in his mouth and started suc-king. Alice was delighted and stood there tipping the bottle up for him. “That’s a good Babykins. This’ll make a nice wet nappy for you.”
When he was almost finished the bottle she got him to hold it between his two hands. “Here, hold it yourself while you are finishing it off.”
Alan watched as she left the kitchen and went upstairs. He continued suc-king on his bottle while he heard her enter the bathroom. A minute later he heard the flush. He was already becoming nostalgic for the toilet.
Alice didn’t come straight back down. Alan heard her burst out laughing again. She had obviously seen his bedroom. He heard her coming quickly down the stairs. She came into the kitchen. She was about to let him out of his high-chair but then examined the bottle. “Nearly finished?” Alan nodded, hoping that he would be excused the last few millimetres. “Not quite”, she observed and made him finish every drop.
When he was done, she let him out of his high-chair. He jumped down. She took his hand and led him to the stairs. She made him go up first. As she followed he heard her tittering at the low-angle sight of his petticoats and bloomers.
He went into his room. She went straight over to his cot and lowered the side. “Let me see Babykins in his cot.” Alan climbed in and she locked the side in place. She stood back and laughed at the sight of him in the cot.
She started looking around the room. The wardrobe caught her eye. Her mouth opened in astonishment. She looked at Alan incredulously. Not only had he more pretty baby dresses in his wardrobe, but there were no other clothes there! She put her hand to her throat and spluttered. “You…you…you’ve nothing but baby dresses to wear!”
The tears welled up again in Alan’s eyes. She saw the pile of nappies on the changing table. She spluttered again. “Your…your mother is obviously planning to keep you in baby dresses and nappies!” She looked at Alan clutching the bars of his cot with tears streaming down his face. She waited for some sign of disagreement with her conclusion but he just looked at the floor and suc-ked again on his soother.
With mouth still open in astonishment, Alice opened a drawer. She took out a pair of frilly panties and held them up to examine them. She rummaged in the drawer and confirmed that there was nothing there but panties, bloomers, bonnets, frilly ankle socks and tights. She held up a fistful of tights in various colours. She was completely speechless now. There was absolutely no doubting that Alan was facing an indefinite future as a pretty baby girl.
She had brought him back to his play-pen by the time his mother returned. Alan had managed to hold out on wetting his nappy and was relieved when his mother showed up, in more ways than one.
“Did he give you any trouble?” his mother enquired. “Not at all, he was the perfect little baby. If you ever need me to baby-sit again just give me a call – any time, it’s no trouble at all. I’d love to.”
Alan’s mother was impressed by her enthusiasm. “Well, I would like to go out on Friday night”, she said. “That’s fine. Perfect”, Alice confirmed. As his mother walked her to the door he heard Alice say “there’s just one thing.” He couldn’t hear the rest of it but thought nothing more of it.
-
There was little excitement for Alan during the rest of the week. He settled into a routine of regular bottles, feedings and changings. He played with his dolls and toys since he had no alternative. He quietly suc-ked on his soother and remained silent, as he still had not been given permission to speak.
The worst was being put to bed early every night. He lay there for what seemed like hours since he didn’t need the extra sleep other than to make up for waking up wet in the middle of each night and having to cry into the monitor until his mother came to change him.
Friday came around and Alan dreaded being baby-sat by Alison. After his evening meal his mother brought him up to his room. He was puzzled by this. Surely he wasn’t being put to bed this early.
She made him sit up on the changing table. Now he was really puzzled. He wasn’t wet but she pulled off his dress and removed his booties and tights. She patted his bum so that he would raise it and she pulled down his plastic panties and proceeded to unpin his nappy. Alan had no idea what she was doing all this for. He wondered was he finally being allowed out of nappies.
“Turn over”, she instructed him. He did as he was told, turned on his tummy and lay facing the shelves. He noticed some new fairy story books on the shelves and was reading the titles when his mother left the room momentarily.
“Cinderella”, “Sleeping Beauty” he read, tilting his head sideways. Then he perked up suddenly when he felt his mother’s finger at his rectum. She seemed to be spreading some cream there. Then he felt the cheeks of his bottom being pushed apart and suddenly a plastic tube was inserted into his rectum. “Mmmffff!” he protested in shock.
“It’s alright dear, it’s in now.” “Mmmfff!” It certainly wasn’t alright! What the hell was she doing? He heard a little squeak and suddenly liquid started pouring into his bowels. “MMMFFFF!!!” His sphincter contracted instantly but to no avail and the water continued to gush in.
He tried to get up off the table but she was pressing firmly on his back. Eventually the water stopped coming and he lay there panting heavily. She removed her hand from his back and said “quickly, into the bathroom”. He jumped up and ran to the toilet bowl.
When he emerged from the bathroom he had a scowl that could kill. He was still suc-king on his soother which had become natural for him already. He was outraged that she had done this without so much as a bye-your-leave. But he didn’t have a say in anything anymore.
She motioned him to get up on the changing table again. He reckoned it would be a relief to get his nappy safely on again. When he sat up she again told him to turn around. He glared at her but she brooked no resistance and made him turn over.
When she again pressed his cheeks apart he gave another “Mmmfff” in protest. Once again she applied some lubricant. He groaned and moaned at the prospect of another invasion. Sure enough he felt plastic at his rectum again. Ignoring his muffled protests she proceeded and his sphincter was once again pushed open.
Initially his groans were slightly less insistent than before since he had been here already. It was more of a whine. When he realised that his rectum was being forced even wider open this time he began to whimper. He held the table tight as his opening continued to stretch. Eventually the object ceased to widen and then, much to his relief, his sphincter began to close again.
But not entirely. He realised that it was only closing over a neck on the object. His mother gave a little tug and push and it became obvious that the thing was held firmly in position. He began to whine again.
“Turn back now”, his mother ordered. He was still panting from the shock to the system and lay there trying to gather his wits. He slowly pushed himself up, feeling the intruder with every move.
He gave his mother a desperate pleading look when they faced each other again and he gingerly placed his bottom back down on the table. His mother had already slid a nappy under him and began to pull it around him. “Mmmfff” he protested. It looked like she was going to leave this horrid thing stuck in his bottom.
Yet again, she completely ignored his protests and pinned him into the nappy. He whinged and whined but she blithely pulled up his plastic pants and proceeded to dress him. Tears were flowing down his face as she pulled his tights up and over his nappy.
She had just zipped up his baby dress when the doorbell rang. “Ah, perfect timing. That’ll be Alice.”
She was standing at the foot of the stairs with a smirk as Alan was led down, very gingerly taking one step at a time. “I take it he is sorted then”, she said to his mother. “Yes, he may wet his nappy but that’ll be all.” Alan gave Alice a thoroughly dirty look. This was clearly all her fault.
-
When his mother was gone out for the night, Alice looked down on Alan in his play-pen and smiled. “Sitting comfortably?” He glared at her. This wasn’t one bit funny.
Alice knelt beside the pen. “Well, if you are a very good little baby for Alice, maybe I’ll tell your mommy that she won’t need to use the butt plug next time. Wouldn’t that be nice?” Alan nodded cautiously. “So are you going to be a good little baby?” He nodded again. “Are you going to do everything Aunty Alice tells you to do?” He frowned a little, wondering what she had in mind. But he was thinking only of his very sore bottom now. He nodded again.
“Good, now stand up Babykins.” Alan did as he was told. “Alice examined his lemon dress. She smoothed out his lace trimmed white pinafore. She instructed him to turn around. He felt her fluff out the rows of lace on his panties. There was no need to get him to bend over, they were in full view.
She made him turn around again. She squinted at his bonnet, determined that it was slightly askew and levelled it up a bit. She picked a black thread off his white tights. “Perfect”, she declared.
“Four of my friends will be over in half an hour”, she told him. Alan gave her a look of horror. “They were all really keen to help out.” Then she noticed Alan look down suddenly towards his nappy. Of course he couldn’t see it because of his billowing dress but Alice knew what the troubled glance meant.
“Have you wet yourself?” she asked curiously. Alan commenced suc-king hard on his dummy. He was continuing to fill the nappy with a warm stream of pee that he hadn’t noticed coming. “You have!” she declared. “And you didn’t mean to, did you?” Tears rolled down Alan’s face and she knew she was right. He had wet himself uncontrollably for the first time at the prospect of her friends seeing him in a nappy and baby dress.
“I can see why your mommy has thrown out all your grown up clothes”, Alice mocked. “You’re a real baby now. You can’t do without nappies can you?” Alan was blubbering as uncontrollably as he had just wet himself.
“Well, you’ll have to wait until my friends get here. They’ll all want to see you being changed. I promised them they could.” Alan frowned. “Now, I hope you are going to be good for my friends.” She detected a slight look of defiance from him. “If you don’t want that butt plug stuck up your ass every Friday that is.” The flicker of defiance was instantly replaced with one of complete resignation.
“I want you to convince them that you are delighted to be kept as a baby girl”, she told him. Alan winced. “If you don’t then you know what’ll happen.” Tears of frustration formed in his eyes. What choice did he have?
“Now, I want you to show off your pretty dress as if you love it.” Alan gave her a look of disbelief. “Come on!” she barked. With a very strained smile, Alan swept out his petticoats for display. “That’s not very convincing. Smile properly and clap your hands in delight.”
Alan tried his best but his smiles were obviously forced and his lack of enthusiasm was obvious in his mechanical clapping. Alice frowned. “Do you know how to curtsey?” Alan reckoned he’d seen Joe do this earlier. He tried to imitate it. Alice smiled at his pathetic attempt. “OK, we’ll have to practice that.”
It took dozens of practice curtseys to get that right. Then she made him skip across the room while waving his skirts about. The shifting butt plug and his soggy nappy made this particularly uncomfortable but he gritted his teeth.
She told him that if she took the soother from his mouth he was to pout and cry until it was returned to him. Then he was to suc-k contentedly on it. Likewise if anyone took a dolly from him he was to act very upset. He was instructed to exude enthusiasm if he is offered his bottle.
While he attempted to act all these things, he was utterly unconvincing and Alice repeatedly shook her head disapprovingly. How was he supposed to convince anyone that he was delighted to be kept in nappies and baby dresses? He was mortified. He would be sufficiently humiliated in front of the girls even without convincing them that he was happy about all this.
The doorbell rang just as Alan had been flouncing across the room to Alice’s incessant coaching. He froze. Alice sighed. “If you don’t convince them that you want to be kept as a sissy baby girl then it’s going to be another very uncomfortable Friday night for you next week.”
Alan didn’t react. He seemed to be distracted. The doorbell had triggered another unexpected wetting. Alice looked down at his nappy in disgust. “You really are just a helpless baby now aren’t you? I don’t know why you find it so difficult to act it!” Alan suc-ked on his soother which did not help to counter her point.
She led him back to his play-pen. The doorbell rang again. The girls were impatient. Alan sat down very gingerly. What was he going to do? Try to convince the girls that he really wanted to be kept as a baby or suffer this acute discomfort indefinitely. As his bottom touched the floor, his mind was made up.
-
He felt sick in his stomach when he heard the front door being opened and the giggling gaggle of girls outside. He was going to have to act as if he loved being kept just like a baby girl.
The girls came into the room. He clutched one of the dollies, suc-ked openly on the soother and looked up coyly through his bonnet. The girls exploded in laughter at the sight of him in the play-pen in his yellow baby dress. Alan just smiled shyly.
“Isn’t he adorable?” Alice asked. The girls couldn’t speak for the laughter. Eventually they pulled themselves together and moved closer to the pen. “Look at that bonnet!” “He’s actually suc-king on that soother!” “And the dolly!”
“Stand up Babykins, so they can see you properly”, Alice instructed him. There was more laughter at hearing him called Babykins. If Alan hesitated to obey her, it was only because of the discomfort of the butt plug when he moved to stand up.
As he rose to his feet his frilly panties were revealed to the girls in their full glory. They clutched each other as they broke up laughing. No sooner had they recovered from that than they realised that the incredible rumours that Alan was being kept in nappies were undoubtedly true. The bulge under his frilly panties was unmistakable. They were crying with laughter now. Alan just stood there was a fixed smile on his face.
“Isn’t his dress pretty?” Alice chipped in, which he took as a cue. He swept out his petticoats seemingly proudly. “He’s so cute!” one of the girls said. Alan executed a perfect curtsey and the girls were astounded more than amused. “He actually looks like he loves being dressed as a baby girl.” “But he does”, Alice said, “don’t you dear?” Alan kept his fixed smile and nodded seemingly enthusiastically, though he was sick inside.
The girls all looked at each other in disbelief. “He asked his mummy if she would put him back in nappies, let him wear pretty baby dresses and treat him just like a baby. Didn’t you Babykins?” Alice said, twisting the knife ever deeper. Alan nodded again. He was now suc-king determinedly on the soother and squeezing his dolly for comfort and it wasn’t an act.
“He has his own high-chair where she spoon-feeds him his meals and he drinks everything through a baby bottle now.” The girls were not laughing now but were stunned by these revelations which exceeded even the extraordinary rumours they had heard. Alan stood there in excruciating embarrassment.
“He has his own cot in his bedroom. His changing table is up there too”, Alice continued. One of the girls held out her hand to stop Alice. “You mean …. he actually uses the nappies? I thought you must be exaggerating about that.” “Oh yes, he does everything in his nappies now – refuses to use the bathroom. In fact he wet himself about half-an-hour ago. I haven’t changed him yet so you can all watch.” The girls all stood with mouths agape, staring again at the bulge around his bottom.
“Don’t you just love being in nappies”, Alice prompted him. He wanted to burst into tears but instead he clapped his hands enthusiastically and gave a big smile. A couple of the girls had to sit down now. Gradually they succ-umbed to uncontrollable laughter. The images of Alan wetting and soiling his nappies and being changed like a baby were just too much.
When it finally died down Alice asked if they would like to see his other baby dresses. The girls clearly thought all their Christmases had come at once. She let Alan out of his play-pen. “Just a minute”, she said as she reached for his harness. The girls watched in fascination as she buckled Alan into the restraint. “Who wants to take his reins?” The girls practically fought over it.
His soggy nappy stuck to his buttocks as he climbed the stairs. He desperately wanted it changed but not in front of all of these girls.
Up in his bedroom the girls looked around in astonishment and examined his cot, his changing table, the baby monitor, the stiff-paged nursery rhyme books. Alice opened the wardrobe and the girls took out his other dresses and sighed about how pretty they were. They fluffed out the lace trimmings and examined the petticoats with gasps of disbelief. Alan saw them look from the dresses to him, clearly wondering how he would look in them.
Alice opened out the drawer that contained his panties, bonnets and tights. The girls grabbed pairs of frilly panties and held them up to examine them. “My goodness they’re enormous!” “They have to be to go over his nappies”, Alice explained. One of them took out a pair of pink tights and shook them out in front of the others who exploded in laughter again.
Then Alice noticed one of them looking back into the wardrobe and wondering. “He told his mummy to give away all his boy’s clothes because he didn’t ever want to wear them again. Isn’t that right?” She looked at the mortified boy. He nodded firmly again and wanted to die.
“You mean, he wants to be kept as a baby girl permanently?!” Alan cringed. “Oh yes”, Alice confirmed, “and there’s no going back now. All his boy’s clothes have been given away. His old bed has been taken away. That’s it. It’s nappies and baby dresses for him now. And he loves it!” Alan managed to keep his fixed smile while all the girls looked at him in amazement, searching for some kind of denial that this was the case. But none came.
“It’s about time we got that wet nappy of yours changed, isn’t it Babykins?” Alan really, really did not want to be changed in front of all these girls but, as with everything else now, he had no choice in the matter. Alice brought him over to the changing table and all the girls jostled for position to get the best view.
-
Alice took Alan’s dolly so that he could push himself up onto the changing table. “It’s alright, you can have her back in a moment Babykins”, she reassured him. He cringed as all the cold pee was squished around his bottom. Some of the girls noticed and sniggered.
“Monica, would you take off his booties?” Alan lay back on the changing table. Alice gave him back his dolly. “There we are.” She pulled up his dress and petticoats. He couldn’t see past them now where all the girls were gathered around watching the procedure, so he just looked at the ceiling as his booties were removed. Alice fingered the waist band of his frilly panties. “Bottom up, Babykins.” Alan immediately complied and she pulled down his panties.
“Laura, would you take off his tights?” Alan kept his bottom in the air as Laura carefully rolled his tights off. There was tittering as the girls saw his cloth nappy through the plastic panties.
“Better let me do this”, Alice said as she prepared to take off his plastic panties. She pushed his dress and petticoats right up out of the way. She peeled off the plastic panties. Monica went “ew!” Then Alice removed the two nappy pins in turn and took off his soaked nappy.
Alan’s upper body was enveloped in layers of petticoats while his lower half was completely exposed to the girls standing around. There was more tittering and sniggering before Alice started mopping him with the baby-wipes.
“Turn over Babykins”, she instructed and he complied, trying to hold his petticoats up as he turned. “Here, let me”, he heard Laura say and then he felt his bottom being wiped all around. Monica insisted on applying the powder to his bottom and although he turned back again after that, he couldn’t see who was working on him next. At times there were clearly more than two hands working on him.
He just wished that they would get his clean nappy on him as soon as possible and he couldn’t wait to get his tights and frilly panties back on and finally lower his petticoats again.
But as Alice pulled his plastic panties up over his nappy Monica asked “can we put one of his other baby dresses on him?” “Sure, why not?” Alice agreed. She unbuckled his harness while the girls ran over to his wardrobe to argue over which baby dress to put him in.
Alice unzipped his dress and, as she started pulling it up over his head, realised that his soother was attached to his dress with a ribbon. “You’ll have to let go of your soother for a moment Babykins”, she told him. “I promise you’ll have it back in a jiffy.”
He scowled at her attempt to make out that he really wanted to suc-k on a soother every moment of the day. He opened his mouth and let the soother fall out. She pulled the dress over his head.
It actually felt odd not to have a soother or teat or feeding spoon in his mouth for the first time in a few days. He exercised his jaw while he had the chance.
As he emerged beneath the petticoats he saw the girls had decided on the blue sailor dress. He quickly disappeared under a mass of netting as this dress was put on him. When his head emerged through the stiff white collar, he looked down at the dress which had white piping all around and a big white bow in the centre of his chest.
The girls straightened out the layers of net petticoats and when they were done Alan was sitting there with his arms resting on the enormous skirts around him. He couldn’t see exactly how long the dress was but in his seated position it actually seemed to cover his bottom.
Alice anxiously returned his soother to him and was surprised how willingly he opened his mouth and let her pop it in. “There we are. That wasn’t too bad was it?” He gave her a disgusted look to try to counteract her implication that he really wanted it back but then he took two quick suc-ks and gave the game away.
Monica pulled white tights up over his nappy. Laura found the matching blue panties with white polka dots and stiff lace trim around the leg openings. She held them up for everyone to see. “Gosh, they’re really big!” She pulled them up his legs and commented “I see now that they have to be that big to go over his nappy.” Alice put the blue and white round cap on his head and all the girls stood back to admire him.
They helped Alan down from the changing table. He couldn’t help himself but check the mirror. In the standing position, his lace-trimmed polka dot panties were clearly visible under his mass of net petticoats. His arms rested at a forty-five degree angle over his stiff cotton dress.
“I think it’s time you had a nice bottle of warm milk”, Alice announced. The girls all giggled excitedly and hurried downstairs to the kitchen. Alice helped Alan down the stairs slowly. He couldn’t see the steps beneath the expanses of his sailor dress.
She brought him into the kitchen where Monica was helpfully holding up the tray of his high-chair. He sat up into it but all the netting could not fit within the chair and when he sat he disappeared into the middle of his dress. There was much laughter as the girls tried to crush the net petticoats into the confined space around him. Eventually they were able to swing the tray down in front of him and click it in place.
Alan was wedged firmly in the centre of the tightly packed petticoats as Monica tied a bib around his neck. His soother was whipped out and replaced immediately with the teat of a feeding bottle. Laura held it up for him with a big grin as Alan proceeded to suc-k on it.
She kept the bottle tipped up for several minutes not realising that she needed to give him a break now and then. He grunted to try to give her the message but she ignored him. Then he whimpered as he continued to suc-k but she kept the bottle pressed to his mouth. Eventually he had to pull his head back and take his mouth away from the bottle. Milk dribbled from the teat down his chin and onto his bib.
-
The girls were having great fun with Alan until 9 o’clock when Alice reminded them that it was his bedtime. They brought him up to his cot where he was given yet another bottle of warm milk.
Monica took one of the story books from the shelf. “Can I read him a bedtime story?” she asked. “Once upon a time”, she began as Alan continued suc-king on his bottle.
When he was finally finished, Alice made him lie down in the cot. She inserted his soother and handed him a dolly. The girls all gathered around the cot and smiled down on Alan as she tucked him in.
When Monica was finished the story the girls quietly withdrew from the room but not without a few final sniggers. Alice switched on the baby monitor. As she left the room she turned off the main light, leaving the night light glowing in the corner.
“Nighty, night”, she whispered as she closed the door over but didn’t close it fully. Alan could hear more tittering as the girls scampered downstairs.
Alice’s friends left before his mother came home. Alan couldn’t sleep at all. Left alone now in his cot, the discomfort of the butt plug was all he could think of.
He heard his mother return. She came upstairs with Alice and they peeked into the room. Alan pretended to be asleep. “Was he any trouble?” “No, he was a little angel”, Alice said. “I’d be only too delighted to baby sit for you anytime.” She was sure she saw Alan twitch.
His mother went downstairs while Alice used the bathroom before leaving for home. When she was done, she crept back into the bedroom. She leant on the side of the cot. “I know that you’re awake”, she whispered. Alan opened his eyes and looked at her.
“Now all you have to do is convince your mummy that you love being in nappies and baby dresses for the next week and I won’t ask her to use the butt plug again. Understood?” Tears welled up in his eyes at the thought of having to act like a perfectly happy little baby girl but the alternative was worse. He nodded and suc-ked on his soother. Alice left with a very satisfied look on her face.
Alan managed some fitful sleep before wetting himself around 3am. He cried into the monitor and his mother came. She let him out of the cot and brought him over to the changing table.
When he was lying on his tummy having his bottom wiped, she pulled on the butt plug. He braced himself as she tried to remove it. He gripped the table tightly as his sphincter was stretched wide open again. Finally it was able to close properly as the plug slid out. He breathed heavily with great relief. He was determined not to have to undergo that again.
Alice called around again on Saturday morning. Alan’s mother let her in and took her aside. “You know there’s something different about Alan this morning”, she whispered. “Really?” Alice replied, feigning surprise. “Yes. It’s as if he’s actually quite happy now in his nappies and baby dresses.” Alice raised her eyebrows, trying not to smile too obviously. “Well, I did tell him last night how lucky he was really, not to have to go to school anymore but to be able to play in his pen all day and get to wear pretty dresses and be fed and pampered all the time. Maybe he just didn’t appreciate before that how lucky he was.”
Alan’s mother didn’t look convinced but seemed happy at the new turn of events anyway. “Whatever it was you did, he’s a happy little baby this morning”, she said. “There were no sad faces when I put him in his baby dress, no moaning when I put tights and frilly panties on him. He just accepted it all as if it was normal.” “Well it is normal for him now, isn’t it?” Alice said.
Alan’s mother turned to go into the kitchen. Alice allowed herself a wide smile behind her back. She had managed to turn Alan into a real sissy baby in one evening.
When she came into the kitchen she saw Alan sitting in his high-chair holding a baby bottle of milk up to his mouth having seemingly happily suc-ked his way half-way through it. He was in his powder pink dress. “Look who’s here,” his mother said. He smiled at Alice. While he had merely appeared to be content so far this morning, he clearly felt that he needed to put on a show for his tormentor. He swung his dangling pink legs under the tray of his high-chair excitedly.
This was killing him. He wanted to scream “let me out of this high-chair, get this stupid pink dress off me and take this nappy off me” but instead he smiled and tried to look happy.
“Would you finish feeding him his rusks?” his mother asked Alice. “Sure”, she replied and took up the half-finished bowl. Alan put down his bottle and waited to receive a spoonful. Alice mashed the rusks into the milk to make it even more of a soggy mess and looked at Alan with relish.
She held up the spoon and his mouth opened obligingly. The two of them eyed each other knowingly as Alice spoon-fed him the rest of the bowl.
When he was finished the rusks, Alice took the bowl to the sink. When she turned around again Alan was finishing the rest of his bottle. When that was done, he put down the bottle and reinserted his soother. She was pleased to see his compliant state.
His mother let him out of the high-chair. “Doesn’t he make such a pretty baby?” Alan cringed slightly and looked at Alice. She raised her eyebrows again and he knew what he had to do. He held out his dress on either side and curtsied. His mother was astonished. She clapped her hands in encouragement and looked at Alice. “Did you teach him to do that?” Alice just stood there with a very satisfied look.
His mother noticed that his dress was sticking up a bit at the back so she went around behind him to straighten it. “You know he seems so happy and pleased with his baby clothes now, I think we should take him out for a walk down to the mall so he can show himself off.” Alice watched the look of horror spread across his face. She gave him a stern look in case he was considering resisting this.
His face turned to a look of desperate pleading but she just glared at him. His mother came around in front of him and he fixed his face in a smile. “Wouldn’t that be great?” He was dying now but managed to nod his head and keep the smile fixed. “Great” she said, delighted that he seemed to be happy to do this. “I’ll get your harness.”
-
While his mother fetched his harness, Alan continued to give Alice some pleading looks but she was clearly looking forward to displaying him in front of the whole town.
His mother appeared in the hallway holding his harness. Alice brought him over to her. He stood facing the hall mirror as his mother pulled the harness over his chest. He could see precisely how he was going to appear to people.
He could see a couple of rows of lace on his panties peeking from beneath his dress. He pushed down on his petticoats to try to hide the frilly panties and they just about disappeared. His mother pulled the harness tight and this caused his dress to ride up further, exposing the rows of lace again. He realised that anyone who saw him would know that he was wearing a thick cotton nappy under the frilly panties.
With the shortness of the dress his legs also seemed so very long in his pink tights. He looked down ruefully at the reflection of his lace-trimmed white socks and the pink t-bar shoes with a bow above the toe.
Then Alice stood in front of him and straightened his bonnet and fluffed out the large bow that the ribbon made under his chin. “Would you like to take a dolly with you?” she asked him. He knew the correct answer although it would only add to his humiliation. He nodded his head.
Alice went over to his collection of dollies in the play-pen. He looked through the door from the hall-way. “Which one is your favourite?” He wondered if he would get away with a small inconspicuous one but decided he was better off keeping up the act. He pointed at the biggest doll which had a mass of blond ringlets and a red polka-dotted dress with bloomers underneath. Alice was clearly pleased with his choice and brought the doll over to him. Alan took it and held it under his left arm.
His mother had him firmly buckled in and went to open the door. Alan cringed visibly. So far he had been safely indoors since he was put in nappies and baby dresses. Now he was about to face the world. And worse, much worse, he was going to have to convince everyone they met that he was happy in his nappy.
The door opened. Alan hesitated. Alice took his arm and led him out. He felt the cool air circulate under his dress and rustle his petticoats and the lace on his panties. He suc-ked hard on his soother but still felt sick in his stomach. The door shut behind him. He felt warm pee spread around his nappy. He was horrified. The fright had made him wet himself. But then he thought that it might present him with a reprieve.
He groaned and shifted from foot to foot conspicuously. His mother gave him a puzzled look. “What’s up Babykins?” He pressed his right hand over his nappy area and shifted from foot to foot again. “Have you wet yourself dear?” He nodded and gave a pleading look. Alice was grinning broadly behind his mother.
“Never mind dear, we won’t be too long”, his mother told him. Alan was distraught that she was about to take him around the town in a soggy nappy. She tugged on his reins and headed down the footpath. Alan lurched forward when the rein pulled taught and he plodded along involuntarily behind the women.
They were only half way down the road when Mrs. Fay appeared out of her garden with her four-year-old daughter Sue. They glanced casually up the road and caught sight of the extraordinary group coming towards them. They froze. Alan wanted to stop walking towards them but his mother was striding ahead with a firm grip on his reins. He knew he couldn’t try to avoid this. Alice looked over her shoulder at him and grinned.
Mrs. Fay and Sue walked slowly towards them with looks of disbelief. Alan could see they were both staring slack-jawed at the obvious nappy under his dress. “Hello”, his mother called cheerily. Mrs. Fay put her hand to her mouth suddenly. “Is that Alan?” He just studied the ground between them while his mother turned to look proudly at him. “Isn’t he pretty?” his mother prompted.
Completely forgetting her manners, Mrs. Fay pointed under his dress and said “Is he wearing a nappy?” “Of course he is”, his mother confirmed. “It’s a very wet nappy too. He’s just wet himself, so we can’t delay I’m afraid. We must get down to the shops and back to change him.”
Sue seemed to be quite disturbed by the sight. “Mummy, why is Alan wearing a nappy?” Alan suc-ked on his soother and held his dolly tightly. He wanted the ground to open up and swallow him.
“I don’t know dear”, Mrs. Fay said. She turned to Alan’s mother. “Why is he in a nappy?” “Because he wants me to keep him at home just like a baby girl instead of going to school. Isn’t that right Babykins?” Mrs. Fay choked slightly on hearing him called this. Alan really didn’t want to confirm this appalling claim. Alice was looking at him coldly. He nodded and then brushed out his dress with his one free hand and curtsied as if he was really proud of his pretty dress.
Mrs. Fay was astonished. “My goodness!” She laughed and looked at Sue. “I can’t even get her to wear a skirt!” Sue sneered at even the mention of it. Alan really envied her t-shirt and jeans. He saw Sue look down at his pink tights and frilly socks with a look of contempt.
“You’re bringing him down to the shops like that?” Mrs. Fay asked incredulously. “Oh yes”, his mother confirmed. “He loves his pretty dresses and nappies and really wants to show them off to everyone.” Mrs. Fay looked at Alan for some sign of dissent but he stood there with a fixed smile on his face and suc-ked on the soother again.
Then something occurred to her. “Dresses? He has more than one dress?” “Oh yes”, his mother continued. “He has a wardrobe full of pretty baby dresses and a chest of drawers full of frilly panties and pretty bonnets. These are his normal clothes now, we’ve thrown out his old clothes. He won’t wear them any more.”
Mrs. Fay was completely flabbergasted. “You mean he’ll be like this permanently?” “That’s what he wants”, his mother said turning to him, “and we give our little Babykins everything he wants don’t we?”
“So will he be in nappies all the time then?” “Oh yes”, his mother confirmed helpfully. “He’s been in nappies for nearly a week now without any problem and that’s the way he’ll stay.” Alan was fighting back the tears now and desperately trying to keep smiling thanks to the threatening looks he was getting from Alice. He suc-ked a few times on his soother and held his dolly even tighter and it seemed to help.
“You must come over and visit”, his mother invited them. “He has his own cot and play-pen and high-chair and nappy changing table. He’s living just like a little baby girl.”
“We will”, Mrs. Fay said enthusiastically. Alan’s mother started moving on and for once he walked on ahead of her, anxious to get away from the gaping mother and daughter. He saw Sue out of the corner of his eye still staring at his frilly panties.
They had no sooner moved away than he saw the busy main road ahead of him and realised that that was only the first of many encounters.
-
It took them ages to negotiate the main road. Everyone wanted to stop and stare at Alan in his pink baby dress. Everyone wanted to know why he was in a nappy. His mother was only too pleased to explain everything to them while Alan tried to look happy about his situation.
He tried to ignore the soggy nappy that was stuck to his bottom and quickly going cold. On reaching the High Street his mother led him into the newsagents. Mrs. Logan behind the counter was just as amazed and interested as everyone else. All the other shoppers stopped their business and gathered around Alan.
“We mustn’t delay”, his mother said eventually. “His nappy is wet and we need to get him home to change him.” The gathered crowd tittered. Alan grimaced, hoping to convince his mother to hurry up.
“What’s wrong dear?” she asked. “You’re not leaking are you?” There was more laughter. To Alan’s horror, she came over and pulled up his petticoats. Everyone could see his frilly panties in their full glory now and appreciate the size of his cloth nappy.
She felt around his tights at the tops of the legs to check for any dampness. “No”, she confirmed. “Better make absolutely sure though.” She pulled down Alan’s frilly panties and then his tights. She felt around the elasticated legs of his plastic panties. “Definitely not.”
The crowd around him were laughing heartily at all this while Alan was trapped in the middle of the shop with his panties and tights down around his knees. Everyone could see the yellow stain on the lower half of his nappy and the puddle of pee gathered in the bottom of the plastic panties. Alan suc-ked desperately on his soother but this made people laugh all the louder.
After what seemed like an age, his mother pulled up his tights and frilly panties again. Mrs. Logan saw the look of utter despair on Alan’s face. “Would he like a lollipop?” His mother took the lollipop from her and held it up to Alan. “Can you leave your soother go for a just a few minutes?” Alan looked uncertain at first but reckoned that the lollipop would be by far the tastiest thing he’d had in a week.
He removed his soother and let it dangle from his dress. His mother inserted the lollipop into his mouth. “There we are, Babykins.” It seemed like an explosion of taste compared to the rusks and mashed vegetables that had been his normal food since he was consigned to the high-chair.
He suc-ked happily on his lollipop all the way home. He was almost becoming used to the stares and comments as they went along. But he was hugely relieved to get back to the privacy of his house and have his nappy changed at last.
That night Alan woke as usual in the middle of the night to wet himself. He cursed the nightly bedtime bottle of warm milk that always led to this inevitable outcome. He relaxed and felt the warmth spread around his nappy.
He had learnt by now not to call for his mother immediately but to wait in case there was more. Sure enough, after a minute or two another stream of warm pee further saturated his nappy.
He started imitating a baby cry. It usually took a couple of minutes before his mother came to change him but she did not appear as usual. He raised the volume a bit, to no avail.
He turned to look at the baby monitor. The little red light was not there. He got up on his knees and squinted through the dim light. It did not appear to be plugged in. He turned towards the door and cried louder. Still nothing.
He moved to the end of his cot nearest the door and leaned over the side bars as far as he could and cried again. Nothing. He was beginning to get genuinely frustrated at this point and his eyes watered.
He wasn’t strapped into the cot and could easily climb over the side. He considered it seriously as his nappy began to go cold but he knew he could be in bigger trouble if he did that.
He continued crying and he couldn’t avoid the tears flowing down his cheeks as he became really upset. After a few minutes of that it became clear that his mother was not going to come. He flopped back down in the cot, crying with the distress.
He looked at his soother and thought that it might make him feel better. He felt ashamed as he thought this but decided that nobody was going to see him anyway so he inserted the dummy and started suc-king.
His nappy was now quite cold and there was no way he was going to sleep. He took his dolly and curled up under the duvet, still suc-king on his soother. He remained awake for hours but eventually slipped off.
He woke to see his mother peering at him through the bars of his cot. She was clearly surprised that he seemed to have slept right through the night. “Morning Babykins.” She pulled up his pink nightie and saw that he was wet. “Oh Babykins! Have you been wet for hours?” He looked down at his saturated nappy and remembered. He nodded with a sad look on his face.
“Don’t worry dear”, his mother reassured him as she inserted his soother, “as Mrs. Lloyd said, it’s only natural that you’ll start to lose control.” Alan shook his head in annoyance at this suggestion and pointed his mitten at the baby monitor. But his mother had turned away and was still talking. “It’s OK Babykins. Just let it go. You’ll be in nappies for the foreseeable future anyway.” Alan moaned through his dummy in protest and shook the bars in frustration. His mother looked over at him crossly and said “patience now, I’ll have you changed in a jiffy.” She turned away again before Alan pointed frantically at the monitor. He sighed heavily in resignation.
-
Later that day, the phone rang and his mother had a lengthy conversation that Alan could not hear. Afterwards, she came in and looked at Alan in his play-pen. “That was your headmaster, Mr. Williams. He’s quite insistent that you should return to school.” She sighed after saying this, clearly disappointed that she wasn’t going to have Alan at home with her all the time.
This was the first glimmer of hope for Alan since he had been consigned to nappies and baby dresses. Not so long ago, he dreaded the prospect of going to school because his school friends had seen the pictures of him dressed like a baby girl. But now, the exciting prospect of getting back into his school uniform and out of nappies overcame all of that. Yes, he would have to endure horrid taunting but anything was better than spending the foreseeable future in nappies.
He clapped his mittens together happily and his mother gave him a wistful smile. “You would be happy to get back to school would you?” He smiled behind his soother and nodded enthusiastically.
His mother went into the kitchen. Alan was disappointed not to be let out of nappies immediately but he could wait until tomorrow if necessary.
She continued to treat him just like a baby girl for the rest of the day. He was prepared to play along for one last day and not do anything that might jeopardise his impending release. His mother put him to bed in his cot, still in his nappies and nightie. He had to endure one last wetting and changing in the middle of the night.
The next morning she threw open the curtains and found him kneeling up in his cot expectantly. She let him out and took off his nightie. Then she went to his wardrobe and took the hangar with his blue sailor-suit.
Alan looked puzzled as she brought it towards him. It was hardly worth putting it on him since he would have to be dressed for school within an hour. She put the dress on him, followed by white tights, the blue panties and hat.
She brought him downstairs and put him in his high-chair. He decided not to grumble about her getting a last few minutes of him dressed as a baby.
When he was fed, she put him in the play-pen while she went off to get ready. He looked anxiously at the clock, concerned that he was running out of time to change into his school uniform.
When she returned, she let him out of the play-pen. She was holding his harness. When she started to strap him in, he groaned through his soother. “What’s wrong Babykins?” she asked as she tightened the harness. He held out his petticoats to point out that he was still in a baby dress and not his school uniform.
“Would you prefer to wear your pink dress to school?” she asked in apparent innocence. He was dumbfounded. Of course he didn’t want to wear any baby dress to school! He shook his head crossly. “Well then”, she said, “what’s the problem?”
Having buckled him into his harness, she stood up and took the reins in one hand and his school bag in the other. “Off we go.” Alan was horrified. She was actually proposing to bring him to school, still in nappies and wearing a baby dress!
He tried to dig his heels in and grumbled through his soother. She tugged on the reins and he stumbled towards the door. He was whimpering now. “But I thought you were happy to be in nappies and baby dresses now”, she said. “So what’s the problem?”
He gave her an incredulous look. She opened the door and pulled him out. He begged and pleaded not to be brought to school like that but it all came out as muffled grunts because of his soother.
Tears streamed down his face as she brought him down the road. Every now and again he stopped and tried to resist being brought any further but she pulled him on each time.
As a result they were a few minutes late and all the other children were already in the school building and in class.
His mother dragged him up the steps and into the main corridor. At this point he felt his nappy fill with warm pee. He tried to draw his mother’s attention to the fact that he was wet but she was concentrating on finding his class room.
When she found room 8, she stopped and turned towards him. She knelt in front of him and fluffed out his petticoats, straightened his sailor hat and pulled up his tights where they had sagged a little.
She seemed oblivious to the tears streaming down his face and took one last look at him and smiled. She reached for the door handle. Another stream of pee further filled his nappy. She pushed him into the room.
His teacher, Ms. Parker stopped in mid sentence. The entire class turned to look at Alan in his blue sailor dress. Almost in unison, their eyes dropped a little and they stared at the obvious bulge of his nappy.
There was absolute silence for several seconds as his class mates looked on in utter disbelief. Was this really Alan dressed in a blue sailor-dress with enormous petticoats, white tights, blue polka dot panties and a cute hat? Was he really wearing a nappy and suc-king on a soother? It took a while for them to convince themselves that the answer was yes.
-
The class descended into uproar while Alan’s mother led him to a vacant desk in the middle of the room. The teacher made some cursory attempts to maintain order but even she found the whole thing hysterical.
Alan sat on the chair and bunched his petticoats around himself as he moved in towards the desk. His mother placed his “favourite” dolly on his desk which caused more hilarity. Then she unbuckled his mittens and took them off.
Alan flexed his fingers. For the first time they were free of the restrictive mittens. He realised that he could now take off his baby dress or his hat or, indeed his nappy. But he had no other clothes and certainly didn’t want to expose himself to the class so what could he do but sit there and endure their scorn.
“The school nurse will change your nappy when necessary”, she told him as she removed his harness and the class descended into laughter again. “Have a nice day Babykins”, she added chirpily as she headed for the door.
Alan sat rigidly at the desk and braced himself for a day of complete derision and humiliation. He couldn’t believe that he was sitting here in the middle of all his classmates wearing a clearly visible nappy and a baby dress, frilly panties and tights.
Ms. Parker turned to her blackboard again, having given up on calling for order. “Miss. Miss”, called the boy sitting behind Alan. “I can’t see the blackboard because of the big baby’s hat.” Everyone roared laughing again while Alan squirmed in his seat.
“You’ll have to move to a seat at the back, Babykins”, the teacher instructed him. Alan pushed the seat back and was about to move away when he remembered his dolly on the desk. He braced himself for the inevitable laughter and reached over for it. The class erupted as he headed for the back row, clutching his dolly.
Ms. Parker struggled to continue the class but nobody was paying any attention to her. Alan tried to concentrate on what she was writing in an attempt to ignore all the faces turned towards him. His classmates couldn’t take their eyes off his sissy baby clothes and he could see them smirking at his frilly panties and tights.
They whispered to each other around him. “He’s obviously wearing a big thick nappy.” “Would you look at those tights!” “He really loves that dummy.”
Alan grimaced as he realised that he was still suc-king on the soother. He hadn’t even thought of removing it. If he did now, they would know that it was in response to their comment. He decided to leave it where it was.
Gradually the class returned to something approaching normality. The other kids regularly turned around to get another glimpse of the amazing sight. There was still the odd titter.
Alan’s morning bottle began to take effect and he felt the pressure on his bowels. He tried to hold on for the break when he could somewhat discretely look for the school nurse.
So you could say that Alan was relieved when the bell rang for break. He let his pee saturate his nappy. His classmates rose from their desks but he stayed put, afraid that any movement might cause his nappy to leak in front of the whole class.
A couple of girls looked curiously at his lack of movement. Before they could reach any conclusion, he finished his pee and stood up carefully. He was about to move away from his desk when one of them said “don’t forget your dolly, Babykins. We’re in the music room after break.” Alan wilted visibly as he realised he was going to have to take his dolly outside with him.
The corridor was noisy with children emptying out of the classes. All of the kids in room 8 were determined to get out there before Alan so they could witness his appearance in front of the whole school. They formed a channel for him to walk through and the noise abated briefly as children took in the extraordinary sight.
Alan waddled down the corridor clutching his dolly and suc-king on his soother with his petticoats rocking back and forth around him. He walked quickly towards the offices where the nurse’s room was located. His way was soon blocked with crowds trying to see him.
He had to wait until the way cleared and he could walk through the laughing crowd of children. Eventually he reached the nurse’s room. He opened the door and looked in but she was not there. He sighed heavily and wondered what he should do. He overheard a girl whisper “he must need his nappy changed”. The tittering spread as the message was passed along.
He tried to ignore the grinning faces as he moved towards the office counter. An older woman was trying not to laugh as he approached. “Where is the nurse?” he asked. The lady pressed a button on the counter and leaned towards a microphone. Alan realised too late what she was about to do.
A loud ding-dong rang all the way around the school. Alan braced himself. “Would the nurse please report to the office?” The woman’s voice echoed around the corridors. Alan waited a moment and finally breathed out. “Alan Matthews need his nappy changed”, she continued after the pause. He could hear uproarious laughter coming from every corner of the school. His nappy suddenly felt very warm again as Alan soaked it for the second time.
-
Alan stood there waiting for the nurse to come, with people jostling around him to see the teenage boy in a wet nappy. “Has Babykins done poo-poos?” someone taunted him. He glared at them initially, but realised that inevitably he would have to do a poo at school sometime.
Eventually the nurse arrived. Alan looked as relieved as he could, standing in front of his school mates in a wet nappy, baby dress, frilly panties and tights. “Is it number 1 or number 2?” she asked him. He looked at the crowd gathered around him self-consciously, wishing this could be conducted in private. He held up one finger and several people snorted with laughter.
The nurse took him by the hand and strode quickly towards the medical room. He tottered unsteadily behind her trying to keep up – the thick nappy making it difficult for him to walk properly.
He was relieved to get into the privacy of the room. The nurse spread a plastic covering on the examination couch and motioned him over to it. When he sat up on the side, he saw that the window into the corridor had its blinds open and a crowd was peering in.
He grunted a couple of protests through his soother but the nurse pushed him back. She pulled his petticoats up out of the way and Alan could see nothing below them. He felt his shoes being removed and then she pulled down his frilly panties. There was great laughter from the other side of the window. People were pushing to see.
She pulled down his tights. “Look, he’s wearing an old fashioned cloth nappy with plastic panties!” a girl shouted outside the window. Alan suc-ked hard on his soother.
The nurse peeled the damp plastic panties off the nappy. “Ugh!” “Oh, my gawd!” he heard from the corridor. The nurse walked over to the window. “Right, that’s enough”, she said. “It’s not his fault that he needs to wear nappies.” “Oh but it is”, came a protest from the other side. “He wants to be kept like a baby girl – he loves it.”
The nurse flicked the blinds shut and turned to look at Alan with raised eyebrows. He wasn’t allowed to deny it. He just suc-ked on his soother. The nurse shrugged when no denial ensued. “Take’s all sorts I suppose.” She continued changing him.
She put a clean nappy on him, pulled on fresh plastic panties, his tights, frilly panties and re-fixed his shoes. He finally got to lower his petticoats – not that they covered much anyway.
She opened the door and he braced himself to face the inevitable crowd outside. They formed a circle outside the door and all the taunts started again when he walked out. “Has Babykins got a nice clean nappy?” “He’s always suc-king on that soother!”
“Just a minute”, the nurse called. He turned to her and she handed him his dolly to great laughter. “You’re to come back here at lunch time.” Alan wondered what that was for. He was unlikely to be wet again by then.
He pushed his way through the crowds to the music room. He was careful to sit at the back. The teacher made no comment when she entered the room but was fighting off a smile.
“Now I want you to listen to this piece of music and let me know what you think of it.” She placed a tape in the player and pushed the door shut. She pressed the play button. “Twin-kle, twin-kle, li-ttle star…” sang a childish voice. Alan sighed heavily while the rest of the class roared laughing and turned to look at him. The teacher stopped the tape when she was done laughing and took out the real tape.
At the end of the class, she picked up a pile of sheets. “It’s this class’s turn to perform at the Friday lunchtime concert so here are your party-pieces. She placed a sheet on each desk. Boys at the front turned to each other excitedly. “I get to sing an Oasis song!” “Fur Elise on the piano.” Alan got his sheet last. They all looked at him. He winced when he read the paper. A girl leaned over his shoulder. “Sing the Good Ship Lollipop!”
At lunchtime, Alan made his way towards the nurse’s room. He could hear kids whispering. “He has to sing The Good Ship Lollipop on Friday!”
He knocked on the nurse’s door and she let him in. She had his mittens and tied them back onto his hands. “Sit up there.” Alan sat on the side of the couch, his legs dangling over the side. The nurse handed him a baby bottle of milk. Alan winced when he saw it. The blinds were open again and a crowd had gathered.
Reluctantly, he took the soother from his mouth and started suc-king on the bottle. The nurse opened a Tupperware bowl. It contained pureed green vegetables. “I’ll just go and heat this up.”
She left Alan suc-king on his bottle and pushed through the crowd gathered outside. When she returned he was only half finished. She sighed crossly and took the bottle from his hands and tipped it up further as if that would make him go quicker.
The kids outside laughed at her bottle-feeding him. She was impatient and didn’t allow him a break. He had to suc-k and suc-k until the bottle was finished. Then she went over to put it on the table. Alan gave a huge burp that caused great merriment outside.
The nurse took a bib and tied it around Alan’s neck. The kids outside were in kinks of laughter now. She stirred the mush in the bowl with the spoon for a moment and then held up a spoonful for Alan. He opened his mouth and let her spoon-feed him amidst uproar from outside. “Let me see! Let me see!”
-
He would have preferred to spend all of lunch-time in the relative safety of the nurse’s room, even if there was a crowd taunting him at the window, but once he was fed, she slipped his soother back in, took his bib off and shooed him out the door.
He now had to spend a good half-hour standing around amongst the other school children. As the door closed behind him, he looked warily up and down the corridor while clutching his dolly. There was no refuge. There were children everywhere.
A teacher told him to go out and get some fresh air so he went out into the playground. There was quite a breeze so his petticoats blew about the place. With one hand clutching his dolly, he only had the other free to try to keep his petticoats down.
As he wandered around the yard, little girls mockingly offered to let him join their games. “Do you want to play skipping?” one asked with a saccharine sweet smile. “Oh, you can’t hold the rope can you?”
Other girls were playing hop-scotch. When one asked if he wanted to play, another said “Don’t be silly, he can’t pick up the stone.” He certainly didn’t want to play a game that involved bending over, since that would only expose his nappied-bottom to more ridicule. Eventually the bell rang and they all went in for afternoon class.
It seemed like an age before the final bell rang for the day. As soon as it did, his mother came into the class room carrying Alan’s mittens and harness. “Do you need changing?” she asked. Alan shook his head but he had been holding off wetting himself. The other children watched with great amusement as his hands were disabled and he was strapped into the walking harness.
She handed him his dolly. “Wave bye-bye to the others”, she instructed him. He frowned slightly but did what he was told. The other children roared laughing as they waved back to him. “See you tomorrow”, one of the girls said. Alan had been so anxious to get to the end of the school day that he hadn’t fully realised that he was going to have to do this every day.
A tear came to his eye with this thought. Then he realised that his nappy was going warm. The distraction had taken his mind off his full bladder and it simply emptied itself into the nappy.
His mother tugged on the reins before he was finished but he didn’t want to draw her attention to his wet nappy in front of everybody. He could wait until he got home.
When they got to the school gate, Alan toddled off in front of her. “Just a minute”, she called. He stopped and turned to face her. She was looking down at his nappy with a frown. She turned him around again and made him bend over a little. “There’s a damp patch on your tights”, she explained. Lots of children noticed and gathered around. “Alan’s nappy has leaked onto his tights!” one of them explained helpfully to the others behind.
“That nurse mustn’t have put your nappy on properly”, his mother concluded. “We’d better get you home quickly.” She took his free hand and walked on purposefully. Alan struggled to keep up. He couldn’t see his tights under his petticoats but he could feel the damp patch spreading. Drops of urine sprinkled the back of his legs.
Some children were following them home, telling everyone they met that Alan’s wet nappy was leaking onto his tights. Everyone stopped to look and laughed. Tears were flooding down Alan’s face. He was working the soother very obviously too.
His mother made him wait outside the front door, not wanting to get pee on her carpet. Children gathered around teasing Alan over his leaky nappy and the fact that he was clearly trying to get comfort from his soother. He was past caring and suc-ked unashamedly. His mother opened the side door and brought him around the back of the house and he was finally safe.
All evening Alan was clearly depressed at the day’s events and the fact that this was going to be the norm every day from now on. He was going to have to go to school everyday in a nappy and dressed like a sissy baby girl. They would probably see all of his baby dresses and frilly panties. In fact, his sailor dress was probably the least demeaning.
He just suc-ked on his soother and hugged his dolly all evening. He actually looked forward to his nice warm bottle of milk before being put in his cot for the night.
The next morning his mother put him in his powder pink dress with matching bonnet, frilly panties, pink tights and white frilly ankle socks. He winced at the sight of himself in the hall mirror. If the kids thought his sailor dress was funny, they were going to have a field-day with this.
By Friday night he was completely dejected by a whole week at school. His only consolation, apart from his soother and dolly, was that Alice was baby-sitting him again. Even after two weeks as a sissy baby girl, Alice’s appearance still stirred something deep in the folds of his nappy.
She came in wearing a halter top that left little to the imagination and a mini kilt over sheer tan tights. She wore white high-heeled shoes and her face was heavily made up. Alan’s mother was surprised and thought she looked more like she was heading out for a night on the town.
She was momentarily concerned about leaving her son at home alone with such a gorgeous girl. She looked at Alan in his high-chair. He was clearly staring at Alice’s long legs and he even stopped suc-king on his soother for a moment.
Then his mother laughed off her concerns. With his dangerous weapon firmly wrapped in a cloth nappy under plastic pants, tights and frilly panties, there didn’t seem to be anything to worry about.
-
Once his mother was gone, Alice came towards the high-chair and smiled at Alan who couldn’t take his eyes of her chest. “I’ve got something special for you to look at”, she told him. Alan had completely forgotten his soother now.
Alice had her hands behind her back and now she revealed what she had been hiding. “Look!” It was a DVD box-set. “Three hours of Barney” the caption boasted. Alice smiled at him as if she was expecting him to be very excited. He glared at her.
She wheeled his high-chair right over in front of the TV. She opened the drive door on the DVD player and put in the disk. The menu came up. The first option highlighted was “Play All”. Alan cringed. She pressed “Enter” and started three continuous hours of Barney programmes. He sighed heavily.
She picked up the TV remote and turned the sound up loud. She adjusted the high-chair to make sure that Alan was directly in front of the TV only two-meters away. Then she put the remotes on the coffee table and left Alan there.
He tried to look pleadingly at her and whimper through his soother but the funnel effect of his bonnet meant that he couldn’t see her once she was behind him. His whimpering could not be heard over the title tune of the first programme. He twisted in the high-chair to try to turn around a little but it held him firmly facing forward.
He was stuck facing the TV and the sound drowned out everything else. He wriggled desperately in the high-chair. He shook the tray in front of him in the hope that it might have been left loose but he was held tightly in. He sighed, grimaced and huffed but he was stuck there and had no option but to watch three hours of Barney.
He just about heard the doorbell ring over the din. He turned to the right as far as he could and saw Alice skip out the door. Her mini-kilt flipped up to give a tiny glimpse of a bare cheek of her bottom.
Alice came back in holding the hand of a boy. Alan briefly saw him glare at him in the high-chair. The programme went a bit quiet and Alan could just about make out Alice saying “it’s ok he can’t see or hear anything.”
Occasionally the screen went dark and he could glimpse a reflection of them on the couch. They were clearly entwined in each other and each time he got a glimpse, another article of clothing seemed to have been discarded.
If the sound went quiet, he could hear moans of pleasure or giggling. He couldn’t believe that his darling Alice was giving herself to another boy. He caught sight of a reflection of her lying back on the couch with the boy making an unmistakable thrusting movement.
He tried to concentrate on the Barney programme now because he couldn’t bear the thought of what was going on behind him. Between two programmes the TV went momentarily quiet and dark.
“Oh, yes, yes, that’s it”, Alice gasped behind him. He could hear the boy panting. He squinted at the screen and saw from the reflection that Alice was on her hands and knees on the floor facing the TV. She rocked back and forth in time with her moans. Alan averted his eyes until the picture and sound resumed and blotted out the unwanted sound-effects.
The next time, Alan could see the boy lying back on the couch staring at the ceiling. He squinted at the screen and was puzzled by what he saw. Alice’s head seemed to be half-way down the boy’s body. Then the picture resumed and Alan was left puzzled by the glimpse he had caught.
Later, he heard the boy say “Jesus, do we have to listen to that annoying crap!” Moments later Alice appeared in front of Alan wearing nothing but a g-string. While Alan sat there goggle-eyed, she took up a pair of head-phones and plugged them into the TV. The sound transferred to the headphones and she placed them on Alan’s head over his hears.
All other sounds were now completely obliterated and Barney’s singing was utterly unavoidable. Alan still caught glimpses of the action going on behind him but his over-riding desire was to for the irritating programme to end – and soon.
Most of the three-hours must have been up by the time Alice appeared again. Alan had finally forgotten about the activities behind him and was staring mindlessly at the screen. She was dressed again. She removed his headphones and stopped the DVD. Alan remained staring at the TV with the utmost gratitude that the torture was finally over.
When she opened the tray of his high-chair, Alan remained there in a daze for a few moments before fully realising that he was able to get out. He looked around the room in a half-daze. The boy was gone. Alice’s hair was all tossed. Her lipstick was badly smudged and her breath stank.
It was well past Alan’s bed-time so Alice made him drink his baby bottle of warm milk quickly, undressed him and he was soon tucked up in his cot.
He couldn’t get the images out of his head. All he could think about was what Alice had been doing with that boy. His pen-is was growing hard inside his nappy. He turned on his tummy and rubbed his groin area against the mattress. His pen-is was now rock hard but he couldn’t get enough feeling to achieve a climax with it wrapped in the thick nappy.
He tried and tried but although he was highly aroused, the nappy made it impossible to come. He ended up lying there totally frustrated. He tried to think of his baby dresses and dollies in the hope that the arousal would go away. He suc-ked hard on his soother and clutched his dolly but he was still erect.
He reminded himself that he was no longer really a teenage boy at all, kept as he was in nappies and baby dresses and confined to a cot. But none of this averted the arousal.
He ended up curled in a ball, holding his dolly tightly with tears rolling down his face and suc-king hard on the soother for comfort. This was it. This was his future.
-
On Monday morning he was totally resigned as his mother prepared him for school. She hummed happily and he watched dejectedly as she rolled his pink tights on. She pulled his frilly panties up over his nappy while he tried to think of the late afternoon when he would be safely back in his play-pen playing with his dolls.
He tried to ignore his mother fussing over his petticoats trying to get them just right. But he couldn’t ignore the happy smile on her face as she positioned herself right in front of him in order to tie his bonnet under his chin.
In his high-chair he suc-ked on his bottle of warm milk while his mother ate her cereal, regularly looking over at him and smiling, clearly very pleased with how things had turned out.
Having finished his bottle, he waited patiently to be spoon-fed his rusks. Soon after that he was standing in front of the hall mirror clutching his dolly while his mother buckled him into his harness. She took the reins in one hand and the bag containing his nappies, plastic panties, spare pairs of tights and his bottle in the other. “Off we go”, she called out cheerily.
It was amazing the number of neighbours who were out and about around their house and garden every morning as Alan was paraded down the street. He never remembered so many people being around before when he was going out to school. Women were dusting their porches, paying little attention to their work but watching as Alan tried to keep his petticoats down in the wind. At least five women happened to be wheeling their bins out to the kerb just as Alan was passing.
At the school, just about all of the children were gathered around the entrance in groups clearly waiting for the daily spectacle to arrive. “Great, he’s wearing that really short pink dress”, he heard a girl blurt out.
He always had to sit at the back of the class because of his enormous bonnets. It meant that he noticed every time one of the others turned around to catch another look at the extraordinary sight and he saw the broad smile spread across their face.
He was only sitting there a few minutes when his tummy gave a sudden and unusual rumble. The discomfort quickly moved down his bowels. With dismay he began to realise that he was going to need to do a number 2 very soon.
He twisted and turned in his seat in a desperate attempt to hold it off. A couple of girls noticed his discomfort and exchanged puzzled looks. Then he saw the smiles develop on their faces as they simultaneously realised what was about to happen. Their hands went up over their mouths in an attempt to hide their great amusement.
Alan held on and held on. There was only half-an-hour to go to the break and he thought that he just might make it. Then all of a sudden he very noisily lost the battle and his nappy filled with very messy poop.
The teacher stopped in mid-sentence and looked at Alan over her glasses. The entire class swung around in their seats and looked at Alan with mouths agape. Then the laughter gradually spread. The teacher couldn’t help herself but joined in.
Within seconds the smiles of the children closest to Alan suddenly turned to horrified looks as they started to get the smell. The kids in the adjacent desks jumped up and backed away from the unfortunate child at the epicentre. The effects quickly filled the classroom like the shockwave of a nuclear blast – children further away feeling the effect in turn and fleeing the source of the noxious fumes.
Eventually everyone else in the class was standing up at the front while Alan at regular intervals continued to fill his nappy. The children looked at the teacher to do something. “Open the windows”, she called out and boys desperately scrambled to relieve the stench.
Without approaching any closer the teacher suggested that Alan needed to see the nurse. He stood very slowly, feeling the mess shift worryingly around his nappy. The children near the door pushed away towards the sides not wanting to get too close as he left the room. There was much giggling intermingled with horrified looks.
Alan walked towards the door and the children scattered around the sides of the room to get around him. He walked down the corridor hearing the relieved laughter behind him. The children started to resume their seats, though many were reluctant to move too far from the windows. Books were waved about in an attempt to clear the air.
Gradually they settled down into their seats. The teacher was about to restart when the intercom went ding-dong. “Would the nurse report to the medical room please?” The children smiled at each other knowingly. “Eh, quickly!” the voice continued. There was another pause. “Alan Matthews has done a rather messy number 2.” The laughter echoed around every class room in the school.
-
Every evening, while he was relieved to be out of school and safely at home, his mother insisted that he had to practice his party-piece. She made him stand in front of the mirror and dance while singing “On the Good Ship Lollipop”. She had found an enormous fake lollipop which he held up while skipping away to the song.
His petticoats fluttered and his skirts billowed revealing his pretty frilly panties right up to the waist band over the top of his nappy. The thick nappy comically inhibited his dance movements so that he clumsily wobbled from side to side.
As Friday approached and his command of the dance improved, his mother insisted that he show more enthusiasm while he was dancing. On Thursday evening he didn’t know how he maintained his smile while he really wanted to burst out crying at the sight in the mirror which was exactly what his schoolmates were going to see the next day – only they would see it from a lower angle while he was up on the stage.
As he sat at the back of class the next day, he heard the girls titter to each other just how excited they were about the prospects for the concert. They looked over their shoulder at Alan and sniggered behind their hands. They just loved his freshly pressed ringlets tied up with pink ribbon.
Alan was to be the eighth act. The audience was restless during the other performers. It was obvious who everyone was waiting to see. The other performers themselves seemed anxious to finish quickly so that everyone could get on to the big number.
Alan stood in the wings clutching his oversized lollipop in his right hand while his left hand idly picked at his skirts. As the seventh act performed, the girl, who was singing a ballad, couldn’t help but glance across at Alan and she forgot her words several times because she was so distracted. The audience just wanted her to finish quickly.
She walked off towards Alan with a huge grin on her face. He received a little nudge from Alice behind him, just in case he was reluctant to go on. He waddled out into the centre of the stage. The audience erupted into laughter.
He stood in front of them and it seemed like an age before Mrs. Plummer started up on the piano. He just wanted to cry. It was only when she was nearly finished the intro that he remembered that he needed to take out his soother. He let it dangle on his chest.
It was bad enough having to do this at all but he really didn’t want to have to put up a convincing performance. He looked nervously at Alice in the wings. She was going to be babysitting him tonight and had made it clear that if he didn’t give an enthusiastic rendition, then the butt plug would be employed again.
Alan sighed and started dancing as he belted out “on the good ship lollipop” with great gusto. The second line was lost in the audience laughter. Alan held his hands out while he twirled with all his skirts and petticoats swirling. There was a great roar of approval.
It seemed to take an age as Mrs. Plummer belted enthusiastically through each verse. She continued playing for more verses than he knew, so he had to start again. His performance waned the second time around, as he realised that he could be up there all day. When she finally stopped at the piano, the audience erupted again.
Alan immediately waddled off but Alice turned him right around again and made him take the plaudits. He waddled into the centre again and curtsied. That only made them go wilder. He went off again but the applause continued unabated.
Alice pushed him out again. He curtsied repeatedly but the clapping continued. Then to his horror Mrs. Plummer started up again. The audience clapped in time and he had little choice but to put in a repeat performance. This time he curtsied profusely at the end and then walked off determinedly, hoping to bring an end to the torture.
He finally breathed a sigh of relief when the next act was propelled reluctantly on to the stage. What an act to follow.
When all of the children had performed there was a loud chanting of “we want Alan, we want Alan”. He stood wincing back stage. He gave Alice a pleading look but she steered him back towards the wings. In his distress he hadn’t realised that he had started peeing in his nappy. He stood in the wings cringing and trying to stall until his pee was done.
Alice pushed him out as his nappy continued to fill. He stood in the centre of the stage as Mrs. Plummer started up the intro again. He was terrified that his nappy would leak if he started dancing around. But what choice did he have?
He danced but his movements were clearly restricted by the pee sloshing around in his plastic panties. The audience became aware of his discomfort and he could see girls nudging each other and he was sure that they realised that he had wet himself.
He couldn’t keep it up and stopped dancing. Tears flowed down his cheeks and he started rubbing his eyes with his free mitten. Alice rushed out onto the stage as he continued blubbering. She took the soother and pushed it into his mouth. The audience roared laughing as she led him off.
Alan was so relieved when he got home that day. He was dying to get into his play-pen and lose himself in his story books. He tried to shut out the day’s events as he suc-ked on his comforting bottle of warm milk.
Over the weekend he just let all resistance go and accepted that he was now effectively a little baby girl. It was easier his way. He just accepted all bottles and feedings, distracted himself with his dollies and toys, wet and soiled himself whenever necessary and curled up with his teddy at the end of the day and contentedly suc-ked on his soother.
By Monday morning as he was led to school by his mother, he had put out all boyish thoughts. They could no longer humiliate him. He wasn’t a teenage boy being kept in nappies and baby dresses. He was a baby girl who was lucky enough to have the prettiest dresses in the world and that was that.
[concluded]