Betty Pearl's Sissy Stories 20.1
Sissy Story Archives (older stories) => Pre-2011 Sissy Stories => Topic started by: DaraJaney on March 16, 2006, 07:42:29 AM
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Part 1
Shane couldn’t believe he was letting his mother do this. He lay back on the bed in his bedroom. He was stark naked. His mother slid a towel under his bottom pulled it around his waist and up between his legs and pinned it onto him like a nappy.
She had somehow persuaded him to go to the fancy dress party as a baby. The party was an eighth birthday party for his niece. Most of the others at the party would be of a her age. His mother reckoned that they would all be dressed as doctors and nurses, cowboys and Indians etc. – various grown-up costumes and it would be really funny if he, as a fifteen-year-old, was dressed as a baby.
He looked down at the towel nappy and frowned. His mother flapped out what looked like a pair of large plastic underpants. She pulled them up his legs as he, being unfamiliar with old fashioned cloth nappies, wondered what they were for. The plastic pants were elasticated at the waist and legs and his mother took great care making sure the nappy was entirely tucked in.
Then she slipped a pair of mittens over his hands. He thought these were all a bit odd. He was expecting the towel and maybe some kind of big blue romper and was resigned to the probability that a large soother would be involved but the plastic pants and mittens were all unexpected.
She took more items from a bag. Sure enough there was the comically large soother. He frowned on seeing that it was pink but allowed her to slip it into his mouth. “Now, remember, babies don’t talk so you can keep that in all the time”, she instructed him. He threw his eyes up. There wouldn’t be anyone at the party he would want to speak to anyhow – just kids and relations. He just hoped his friends wouldn’t see him crossing the road to his Aunt’s house dressed like this.
His mother went back to the bag. His eyes widened when she produced the baby outfit. It was a big pink gingham dress! “Nnnnng”, he protested through the dummy. She held it up to admire it. He put his hand up to take out his dummy but the mittens had no fingers and he couldn’t grasp it.
His mother already had the dress over his head before he was able to spit out the soother. “No way!” he shouted. “Oh don’t be such a baby”, she scolded him and laughed. She was trying to push his arms into the big puffed out sleeves of the dress. “No, Mum, you never said it was going to be a dress!” She continued to struggle with him and got one arm through. “They didn’t have any baby boy’s outfit, so it’ll have to do”, she told him.
“No, Mum, there’s no way I’m wearing it”. But the mittens seriously disabled him and she soon had his other arm through and quickly zipped the dress up behind him. He jumped up off the bed and stomped around the room as he tried to reach the zip. While he could just about reach it, the mittens prevented him from taking the zip in his fingers.
“Just wait until you see the whole outfit”, his mother said, “then you can take it off if you don’t like it.” “I already know I don’t like it”, he insisted. “Just wait until you see”, she said and stuffed the soother back into his mouth. She pushed him back down onto the bed.
He sighed heavily as she returned to the bag. She took out a pink frilly bonnet and came towards him. “Mmmmm!” he growled through the dummy. She placed it on his head and tied it under his chin as he pouted.
Next she took out a pair of pink panties with rows of white lace across the seat. He tried to get up off the bed again but she pushed him back and pulled the panties up his legs. His next attempt to get up off the bed only allowed her to pull the panties up over his nappy.
“Nearly done”, she told him. He decided to let her finish and humour her for a minute before deciding that he didn’t want to go dressed like this. Did she think he was mad? He would never hear the end of it if people saw him in a frilly pink baby dress.
She pulled a pair of white socks with pink lace trim onto his feet and finally put a pair of pink t-bar shoes on him. She stood up and smiled broadly. “Now!”
He got up off the bed and looked down at the dress. It flared from breast level and there seemed to be several layers underneath because it stood out at a huge angle. He pulled the hem up and saw the lace trim of the petticoat.
He went over to the mirror and was further dismayed at the sight. The dress was very short and the frilly panties could be clearly seen. They stretched tightly over the obvious bulge of his nappy. Since his teenage boy’s face was largely hidden by the lace of the bonnet and the large soother you could nearly be fooled into thinking he was a real baby girl except that he was so big.
There was no way in the world he was going to wear this outside this room. He had indulged his mother long enough and he looked at how to take off the mittens. Inside the mittens his digits had slipped into finger and thumb compartments but it was as if they were all sown tightly together and he couldn’t move them independently. He put one hand under an arm and tried to pull the mitten off but it was held firmly.
His mother watched with amusement as he examined his wrists where the mittens were fastened. They were buckled tightly and he soon realised that there was no way he could undo either of them while the other hand was in a mitten too.
He made a few more futile attempts at removing parts of his costume. He couldn’t untie the bow that held his bonnet in place. His pulled up his dress revealing the several layers of white petticoats and tried to push down the panties but they were well elasticated at the waist. He stuck out a foot in front to see if there was anyway of getting the shoes and socks off. He had to push down his petticoats in front before he could even see his foot. The shoe was buckled on and it was obvious there was nothing he could do.
His mother waited until he realised for himself that he was stuck like this. He sighed and looked at her crossly. “So you’re happy to keep your baby dress on then”, she said sarcastically.
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Part 2
He stomped a foot in frustration and gave her a pleading look. Satisfied that she had him trapped, she went back to the bag. He spat the soother out and caught it between his mittens. “Please Mum! This is ridiculous.” “Don’t be silly”, she replied, “you look great! Don’t be such a spoil sport.” “PLEASE!” he begged. “It’s a fancy dress party!” she reminded him and pushed the soother back in.
His mother went off to get ready for the party herself. She left him in his room desperately trying to get the mittens off. By the time she returned he was resigned to the fact that he couldn’t get out of the baby dress and nappy. He was just going to have to make the most of it. It was just a fancy dress party after all, he was now telling himself.
He knew that, if the children realised just how mortified he was at being dressed like a baby girl, they would only torment him all the more. So he had to try to brave it out and pretend that he was just being a good sport.
When his mother came into his bedroom to fetch him he reinserted the soother and stood up. He looked in the mirror again and tried to push his dress down to cover his frilly panties but the stiff petticoats ensured that they remained on view. His mother sniggered and took him by the arm.
At the front door she handed him a doll. He just took it obediently and braced himself for the prospect of going outside dressed like this. His mother opened the door and he took a deep breath, tried to be brave and went out.
He looked nervously up and down the road. The bonnet restricted his view and he had to turn his head right around to see. There were a lot of cars parked around suggesting that most guests had arrived for the party. He would be making a grand entrance in front of a full house.
He followed his mother up the path to his Aunt’s doorway. They could hear music, chat and laughter inside. His mother rang the bell and waited. His Aunt opened the door. “Oh Margaret, there you …” She broke off in mid-sentence when she saw Shane in his pink baby dress. “Oh my goodness.” Shane had a fixed smile on his face.
Behind his Aunt the main room was full of children and their mothers. As expected the children were dressed as doctors, nurses, firemen, maids, cowboys, witches etc. The chatter gradually died down as more people spotted Shane at the door.
Within seconds the whole place was consumed by an awkward silence. Mothers exchanged looks unsure whether to laugh or not. “Isn’t he darling?” his mother said and she pushed him in the door. Shane had little option but to walk into the middle of the room, his petticoats swaying around him as he walked. He couldn’t help but try to push his dress down as much as possible even though he knew it was pointless. His Aunt broke the silence. “Is he actually wearing a nappy?” she asked. There were a few snorts of laughter. His mother didn’t bother answering – it was obvious to everyone.
Shane tried to keep his fixed smile and acted as if this was all good fun. “Love those frilly panties”, someone interjected and everyone laughed. Shane was sure his cheeks were reddening.
Soon he was surrounded by a ring of children in various adult costumes all fascinated with his baby outfit. A couple of girls reached out and lifted the hem of his dress to see the petticoats. He pushed his dress down again to stop them and that caused more amusement. A little boy pointed at Shane’s frilly socks and laughed.
While he was embarrassed too by the big dummy in his mouth at least it gave him an excuse to ignore the remarks and say nothing. People started chatting among themselves again but virtually everyone continued stealing glimpses at the fifteen-year-old boy dressed in a nappy and baby dress.
“Would you like something to drink?” his Aunt asked, trying to recompose herself. His mother had a hold-all and reached into it. She produced a big baby bottle and handed it to his Aunt. “Perhaps you could put some juice in this for him”, she said loudly. Shane cringed. One lady who obviously hadn’t recognised him blurted out “you mean, it’s a boy?” She put her hand to her mouth to stop herself from spluttering out her drink.
His Aunt eagerly went to the kitchen and returned with the bottle full of juice. His mother found a spot on a couch and patted the place beside her for him to sit. He didn’t want to cause a scene so he obediently sat beside her.
His Aunt was about to hand him the bottle but his mother reached up and took it from her. Then she took the soother from his mouth and held the bottle up to him. He was aware that many people were watching with great amusement. He could try to refuse the bottle but he knew his mother would persist and it would just cause a scene that would attract more attention. So he accepted the bottle and started suc-king.
There was much tittering but most people went back to their conversations. When he thought nobody was looking he tried to give his mother a pleading look in the hope she would take pity on him but she continued feeding him from the bottle, allowing him little breaks to get his breath back.
When he was nearly finished the bottle his Aunt arrived over to them with a bowl of ice-cream birthday cake. “Would he like this?” she asked his mother. His Aunt was now talking to her as if he was really a baby. “Just a minute”, his mother asked her to wait. She went back to the bag and took out a bib. Shane cringed again and then looked around nervously to see if anyone noticed. From the broad smiles he began to suspect that most people were beginning to realise that he was not a willing participant in this.
His mother tied the bib behind his neck and proceeded to spoon-feed him from the bowl. An audience of children and adults was gathering now and his mother began to perform for them. She deliberately shoved a spoonful at him before he could open his mouth and some ice-cream was smeared on his upper lip and nose. This brought great laughter.
By the time she was scraping the last from the bowl, his face was well smeared with chocolate ice-cream. At last, his Aunt came over with some tissues and his mother cleaned his face. Then she reinserted his dummy.
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Part 3
His Aunt took the almost empty bottle from his mother and said “I’ll get you a refill”. Shane tried to say that he had more than enough but it just came out as “mmmpfff” and his mother laughed.
Half way through the second bottle the inevitable consequence started to press its attention on him. He hadn’t said a word and was reluctant to remove the soother but when he decided that he really need to go, he had to say something. His mother would have to let him out of the mittens before he could go to the toilet.
He spat the dummy into his hands. His mother went to put it back in but not before he whispered “I need to go”. She pushed the soother back in and said “Go where? To the toilet?” in quite a loud voice.
Shane looked around nervously. A number of people broke off their conversations. He nodded self-consciously. “That’s OK dear”, his mother said. He relaxed a little and held up his mittens for her to take them off. “You can go in your nappy”, she said. He froze. Everyone was looking at them now. “It’s OK”, his mother said loudly, “it’s a real nappy. The elasticated plastic pants will hold it all in – don’t worry”.
He just wanted to die now. He still presumed that she was joking but the very idea of him having to use his nappy was causing great laughter around the room. He tried to laugh it off himself and moved his mittens towards his mother to indicate that he really wanted her to take them off.
But his mother stood up. “Just let me know when you’re wet dear. I have a clean nappy in the bag there. I’ll be in the garden.” And with that she walked out. Shane was left sitting amongst the astonished adults and children. “She’s actually making him use his nappy”, he heard someone whisper.
He remained on the couch, growing increasingly terrified of moving as the pressure on his bladder increased. He still prayed that it was all a sick joke. A crowd had gathered around him. “He mustn’t be able to take those mittens off”, someone suggested. “That’s right! They’re fastened at his wrists. She has him trapped in that baby dress!” Shane lowered his head in embarrassment as it became obvious to everyone that he was a prisoner in the dress and nappy. “He’s completely helpless”, a women observed. “He’s going to have to go in his nappy!” Kids knelt on the floor in a semi-circle eagerly awaiting the moment when he would wet himself.
His mother returned to find him fighting back the tears. He looked up at her in desperation. She flopped back down on the couch beside him causing a bouncing motion through the couch that made him wince. His Aunt came and sat on the other side. Shane was now rigid. The slightest movement and he was lost.
His mother and Aunt talked casually across him. Then one moment his head dropped further. The women stopped talking and looked at him. The warmth was still spreading out from his pee and down around his bottom as the tears began to flow.
“I think someone has finally wet their nappy”, his Aunt said. Shane just sat with his head bowed and everyone knew she was right. A child got up and ran into the garden. “He’s wet himself!” she announced to everyone out there and others came rushing in.
“Do you want to bring him into the utility room to change him?” his Aunt asked. “Yes, thanks”, his mother replied “but we’d better wait a few minutes until we’re sure he’s done.” She looked at him. “Are you all done yet?” His shoulders sagged further confirming that he wasn’t and many people tittered.
After about five minutes Shane lifted his head for the first time since wetting himself. His face was tear-stained. “The poor thing”, he heard one sympathetic mother whisper. “All done?” his mother insisted on confirming. He nodded. “You don’t need to do a number 2 or anything?” she persisted. More people laughed out loud at that thought.
“Are you sure that old-fashioned cloth nappy is going to hold it all in?” his Aunt asked, concerned about her furniture. “Yes. I was careful to make sure the elasticated pants covered his nappy completely. Stand up”, she instructed Shane. He got up very gingerly, expecting to be brought out to be changed.
But his mother pulled down his frilly panties. “See? It’s fine”, she said as she felt around the legs of his plastic pants for any wetness. People pushed to see. The lower half of the nappy was undoubtedly yellowed and soggy. There was a little pool of pee right at the bottom of the plastic pants that the nappy had failed to absorb.
Because of his huge petticoats, Shane was the only one in the room who could not see his nappy. He could only stand there in the middle of the crowd with his frilly panties around his ankles and wait until everyone had seen his wet nappy. He couldn’t imagine anything more humiliating. He started to pee again. “Oh look there’s more pee coming”, someone shouted as the pool at the bottom of his plastic pants grew larger. The nappy was now thoroughly saturated and could hold no more.
Shane started crying uncontrollably at this point. “Oh we’d better get him changed”, his mother said and she pulled up his frilly panties again.
She took him by the hand and he walked very gingerly along as a path opened through the throng of enthralled party-goers. His crying subsided as he realised he was finally going to be changed and he wiped his eyes with the mitten of his free hand. His Aunt followed with the hold-all.
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Lying back on a table having his nappy changed he wanted to scream abuse at his mother for putting him through this humiliation but he was so drained that he just lay there with the soother still in his mouth.
She removed the wet nappy, wiped him down and powdered him before picking up a clean nappy which she held up before him dramatically. He wanted to beg to be let go home but he knew it was useless so he just lifted his bottom and let her put the dry nappy on him.
A few minutes later she guided him back through the crowd. “Now he’s all dry again in a nice clean nappy”, she announced to everyone.
He continued to be the centre of attention and now people wanted to take lots of photos of him. He was mortified about this. His friends were surely going to see the photos. But there was little he could do. Cameras were flashing around him. He tried to smile and make light of it but when he was shown the polaroids or digital shots he realised how strained his smile was and everyone would see that he was hugely embarrassed.
One woman called from behind her camera “stand up so we can see the nappy and frilly panties properly.” There were cries of “yes, yes” from the others. He was going to do no such thing but his mother pulled him up off the couch and the cameras flashed. He instinctively tried to push down his dress but that just made it worse. In the shots he saw, it was obvious he was desperately trying to hide his nappy and panties. Everyone loved those shots best.
Shane’s niece Emily, whose birthday it was, came over and asked if she could bring him out into the garden. “OK”, his mother said, “but you’re in charge of him. Let me know immediately if he does anything in his nappy. OK?” Emily nodded eagerly and took Shane by the hand. She led him out the door to the garden with the poor boy looking back at his mother despairingly.
“This is my Uncle Shane”, Emily told her friends, “he’s fifteen”. She sniggered and there were various titters from the other children because he certainly didn’t look fifteen. “Look”, Emily pointed to his mittens, “he can’t use his hands so he’s stuck in the baby dress and nappy.” They all laughed. A dozen or so eight-year-olds surrounded him. “Did he really wet his nappy?” a girl dressed as a nurse asked. “Yes. Granny helped to change him and he has a clean nappy on now.” Shane just suc-ked on his soother and stood with his head lowered. There was no point in keeping up any pretence that he was voluntarily dressed like this for the party – everyone now knew he was unwillingly forced to wear the baby dress.
“Let’s play ‘Donkey’”, a little boy dressed as a cowboy suggested. The children eagerly gathered in a circle and Emily insisted that Shane join them. A ball was thrown from child to child back and forth across the circle. When it was thrown to Shane he trapped it between his mittens but he couldn’t get any grip and the ball slipped to the ground. “You’re ‘D’!” the children shouted jumping up and down with excitement.
Shane bent down to pick up the ball giving everyone a great view of the full expanse of his frilly panties. When he heard the laughter he straightened up quickly and tried to push down his petticoats. But nobody was offering to pick up the ball for him so he bent his knees and tried to pick it up without showing so much panty. He had great difficulty picking the ball up in the mittens and the children laughed at his clumsiness.
Eventually he trapped the ball between his mittens and straightened up with it. He had to concentrate carefully to even manage a little throw to the child next to him. Again the children laughed at his helplessness. He was now an obvious target for the other children and the ball was thrown to him at every opportunity.
He was quickly ‘O’ and then ‘N’ before any other child dropped the ball even once. When he finally managed to catch the ball there were ironic cheers from the children. But it wasn’t long before he was out. “You’re DONKEY!”, they shouted and was despatched to sit and watch the rest of the game. As he walked towards the garden seat Emily asked him was he OK – “you haven’t wet your nappy again have you?” The children all laughed. Shane glared at her and she gave a sweet smile. “Just checking.”
He couldn’t wait for the party to end but his mother insisted on hanging around until virtually everyone else was gone. Most people when leaving made a point of saying goodbye to the star of the party. He sat there enduring the comments, trying to smile at their jokes. “You make such a pretty baby!” “You must love your pretty dress and panties.”
Mrs. Wilson came towards them. He had put a football through her window just the week before and knew he couldn’t expect much sympathy from her. She made an exaggerated smile. “That pretty baby dress really suits him”, she said to his mother, “you should keep him that way.” His mother laughed and said “maybe I will”. Shane gave a forced laugh too.
Mrs. Wilson left but Shane noticed something out of the corner of his eye. His mother was checking out his whole outfit again and she smiled. He tried to ignore it but he was getting nervous.
Then Mr. Ramsey came by them. “You’ve certainly put that rascal in his place”, he said to her mother. “Rascal?” she asked, surprised. “I have to keep a close eye on him whenever he’s in my shop”, he claimed. Shane was taken aback. He had once been dared by his friends to steal a packet of sweets and Mr. Ramsey had caught him but that was years ago. His mother gave him a cross look.
When his Aunt came and sat down beside them his mother said to her “I had no idea he was such a scoundrel. He seems to have crossed most people in the neighbourhood.” His Aunt thought little of it – she reckoned most boys got into trouble most of the time anyway. But Shane thought her comment didn’t help. “Yes, he’s quite a little scamp” and she pinched his cheek playfully.
His mother even stayed to help clear up. By now he was beginning to need to pee again. Eventually she picked up her hold-all and took him by the hand. “Don’t forget your dolly”, his Aunt called sarcastically. He took it from her without hesitation anxious to be out of there and out of the nappy and baby dress.
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His Aunt opened the door and saw that it was now raining. “Oh dear, you can’t go out in that”, she said, “you don’t want to ruin your pretty dress.” Shane looked out at the heavy rain and sighed. He desperately wanted to get home and out of this baby dress. But he also noticed some boys playing football on the street. They were already soaked and seemed to care little about the downpour. He certainly didn’t want to be seen by them dressed as a baby girl.
They waited a while but there was no sign of the rain easing. His Aunt went to the coat rack. She selected a long black rain coat. Shane was quite happy to see this. It would completely cover his embarrassing outfit for the walk back to his house.
But his Aunt gave that coat to his mother and then selected a see-through plastic mac for Shane. He winced as she came towards him with it. But she showed no sign of noticing his frustration. She pulled one sleeve of the mac over his arm but he resisted when she tried to push his other arm into a sleeve. “Stop it”, she scolded him, “what’s the problem?”
He didn’t want to say that he wanted an opaque coat so that the boys on the street wouldn’t see his baby dress because he knew that wouldn’t worry his Aunt – it might only encourage her.
She got his arm into the sleeve and pulled the coat over him. She had difficulty getting the mac around the expanse of his petticoats and they were all bunched up around him as she buttoned him tightly in. The hood went comfortably over his bonnet, much to his disappointment, and his Aunt tied the strings under his chin.
His mother opened the door and Shane could see that the boys were still there. He tried to resist being brought out but his mother tugged his hand and he was pulled out the door after her. He realised that he still had the stupid dummy in his mouth and tried to spit it into his free hand but the string was tied so tightly under his chin that he couldn’t. Not only were the boys going to see him dressed as a baby girl but he would be seemingly happily suc-king on a dummy.
He now wanted to run to get across the street as quickly as possibly but his mother tugged him back. “Don’t splash”, she said, “you’ll ruin those pretty socks.” So he frustratingly had to walk steadily beside her.
He tried to keep his head down and prayed that the boys wouldn’t see – but what were the chances of them not noticing a fifteen-year-old boy in a big frilly pink baby dress complete with bonnet, frilly panties, lacy socks, soother and obvious nappy, firmly buttoned into a see-through mac.
Naturally the boys stopped their game when they saw the spectacle. “There he is!” one of them shouted. They had obviously heard about Shane’s predicament which explained why they waited out in the rain.
They came running over and his mother actually slowed down to let them have a good look. Shane recognised the boys as coming from the class two years behind his at school.
“Look at the big sissy baby!” They roared laughing. “Are you happy in your nappy?” Shane tried again to spit out the soother but it was held firmly in his mouth. “I’m afraid Shane can’t play today”, his mother said. “We wouldn’t want him getting his pretty dress dirty.”
They finally got to their driveway with the boys still walking beside them. “Wave bye-bye to the boys, dear”, his mother told him. Shane just looked crossly at her but she stopped and clearly wasn’t going to go further until he did. He reluctantly waved a mitten at the boys and they roared laughing.
Finally, his mother led him up the path to their door. “Look at those frilly panties.” “He’s definitely wearing a nappy.” “My sister told me he wet himself at the party and had to be changed.”
Shane was in floods of tears when he finally got in the door. He might be safely home but how was he ever going to face those boys again.
At home his mother took off his mac and then went straight into the kitchen and put on the kettle. He waited for her in the hallway but she sat down and picked up a magazine. He spat the soother out. “Mum!” She looked at him nonchalantly. “Mmm?” He held out the mittens and glared at her.
“What’s the rush”, she said, “there’s no point in putting on other clothes at this late stage of the day.” He sighed. “Please Mum!” “Don’t be silly, now sit down at watch the TV or something.”
He trudged into the room and sat down opposite the TV. He started to reach for the remote before realising that he couldn’t pick it up with the mittens. “Can you switch it on please Mum?” She smiled and reached for the remote.
After another few minutes he said “I need to go to the toilet again”. But he feared the worst. She didn’t even look up from the magazine. “Fine, go ahead.” He sighed heavily again.
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It was another hour before he had to give in and wet himself. “Mum?” “Mm-hmm?” “I’m wet.” He couldn’t believe he was in this situation. “OK dear, just wait till I finish this article.”
When she put down the magazine she asked him “are you sure you don’t need to do anything else? You haven’t done a number 2 all day.” He cringed. He did need to do a number 2 but wasn’t going to admit it. But his hesitation gave him away. “You might as well do it now before I change you”, she said.
He squeezed his eyes shut in frustration. “PLEASE MUM!!” “I’ll change you when you’ve done a number two”, she insisted. He was at the end of his tether now but what could he do?
His nappy went cold as he couldn’t bring himself to soil himself. “You’d better hurry up or you’ll end up with nappy rash”, she told him.
He started crying again as he realised he was going to have to do it. His mother was unmoved. He stood and walked back and forward trying to figure out how he was going to do it. He couldn’t do it sitting down. Now he couldn’t do it standing up.
He was beginning to get desperate. He got down on all fours. This seemed more likely. He pushed. His mother sniggered as his bottom thrust back and forth. He pushed a stool right to the opening and then relaxed a moment. He knew was going to be able to push it out but couldn’t bring himself to do it.
He waited, desperately hoping for a late reprieve but realised he was going to have to do it. He pushed again and the stool slid out and plopped into his nappy. He started crying at the indignity. He knew there was a second one there. He wondered would she be satisfied with the one. But then, was she going to put him in another nappy? Surely not! How could she justify that? But he decided that he’d better play safe.
He pushed again and another stool slid out into his nappy. By now the smell was beginning to spread. His mother looked up. “I take it you’ve produced something then”, she said, wrinkling her nose.
When he turned his face was tear-stained. “Oh dear, where’s your soother”, she said. He was no more interested where the damn thing was. She found it and brought it to him. He frowned. “But that’s what it’s for, love.” He turned his head away in disgust. “Now dear, you’re not going to get changed until you do what Mummy says.”
Was there no end to this torment? He had no choice but to accept the soother. “There we are”, she said. “That’ll make you feel better.” Then she picked up the doll and handed it to him. He sighed and took it, holding it to his chest with his left arm.
“I’ll just go and set up a table for changing”, she said and went to the utility room. He paced up and down, not wanting to sit and spread his mess around.
When she came back in, she looked him up and down and smiled. “Give us a twirl”, she said. He glared at her. He realised she was going to make the most of the situation. He might as well get it over with. He grumpily turned around in a full circle, shuffling from one foot to the other. “Quicker”, she instructed. He turned quicker and his petticoats swirled out. “Excellent”, she exclaimed. “Now curtsey.” He stood open-mouthed in front of her. He couldn’t believe this. She demonstrated a curtsey and waited for his response.
He bent one leg behind the other as she had done. “And hold out your dress”, she instructed. He held out his dress and petticoats with his free hand as best he could, given the mittens. “Alright, we’ll get you changed.”
He was anxious to get the messy, cold nappy off so he co-operated with her every instruction. He lay on his stomach as his mother wiped his bottom. Yet again, he couldn’t believe the situation he was in.
When he rolled back over as instructed he saw his mother holding a clean nappy. “Nnnn”, he gurgled through the soother and he tried to sit up. She pushed him back down and lightly slapped the side of his bottom to get him to lift it. He lay back and stared at the ceiling in desperation. A slightly harder slap encouraged him to lift his bottom.
Tears came to his eyes again as his mother wrapped the nappy around his bottom and pinned it in place. He couldn’t wait for this day to end.
When it came to bedtime his mother brought him to his room. She removed his shoes and socks and then his bonnet. He wished she would remove his mittens so that he could take everything else off himself. But she unzipped his dress and pulled it over his head. It was a relief to have that off. Then she pulled down his frilly panties.
He stood there waiting for her to remove the plastic pants but instead she pulled back his duvet and motioned him to get into the bed. He realised that she was still not going to take off his nappy. He begged and pleaded but there was no moving her. He refused to get into the bed but she simply left the room and closed the door.
He sat on the side of the bed in despair. When she didn’t return, he realised he had no choice but to get in. He lay there for hours consumed by his predicament. Eventually he nodded off.
-
He woke the next morning to the sound of his mother rummaging in his room. He rubbed his eyes and sat up the bed, momentarily forgetting his situation. Then he felt again the thick cloth around his bottom. Before he woke properly his mother threw the baby dress over his head.
In his semi-awake state he could only put up an ineffective resistance and she soon had his arms through the sleeves and zipped him up. “Oh please Mum! Not again!” He sat there not quite believing he was in the baby dress again while his mother fetched the bonnet.
He continued complaining as she tied it under his chin but with his hands still in the mittens he was helpless. She hauled him out of the bed and quickly pulled the frilly panties up over his nappy. “Ah Mum!” He wanted to cry now. Seeing his eyes start to water she reached for the soother and pushed it into his mouth.
He offered little resistance to her putting the lace trimmed socks and t-bar shoes on. He just looked on sullenly as she fluffed out the lace. He knew she would prevail in the end.
She took him by the arm and quickly crossed the room. He couldn’t help checking himself out in the mirror as he passed it. His petticoats swayed back and forth as he scampered after her. The lace frills on his panties fluttered.
She brought him down to the kitchen and sat him at the table. He removed the dummy. “Mum, how long are you going to keep me like this?” She looked at him. He had such a miserable look on his face. She came over to him and reinserted the dummy. “As long as I decide. Now, no more talking from you or I’ll leave you sitting in a wet nappy for an hour. Understood?”
He sat there none the wiser about how long this predicament was going to last. His mother prepared a bowl of cereal, brought it over and sat beside him. She removed his soother, put it on the table and took the spoon. She dipped it into the cereal and presented him with a spoonful. He turned his head away. “Now, I’m serious!” she barked at him. He jumped a little in surprise. “Any more disobedience and you’ll earn yourself an hour in a wet nappy. I mean it.”
He opened his mouth with a scowl. She shoved the spoon in and he closed his mouth over it as she withdrew it. “Smile”, she ordered. He reluctantly turned the corners of his mouth up. “That’s better”, she said as she held up another spoonful.
The door bell rang when she was half-way through the bowl. She put it on the table and went to the front door. Shane looked down at the bowl and spoon. He knew he wouldn’t be able to pick up the spoon so he had to wait for her to come back and finish feeding him.
His mother answered the door. It was one of the neighbours who had been at the party, Mrs. Hall. She came in and saw Shane still dressed as a baby. “You still have him in the baby dress!” she observed. “Yes, he just can’t take it off”, his mother joked.
Shane sat there fuming as his mother picked up the spoon to resume feeding. He didn’t want Mrs. Hall to think that he was happy being spoon-fed like this but he didn’t dare resist his mother. So he accepted the spoon with a grumpy look.
“I see he’s still in nappies too”, Mrs. Hall saw. “Yes, he’s wet himself a couple of times now and even soiled himself last night.” Mrs. Hall burst out laughing. “My goodness. How long are you going to keep him like this?”
Shane looked at his mother with concern. “Well, I was thinking”, she said, “I didn’t realise that he’d been such a bold boy. A number of neighbours complained about his behaviour.” Shane wanted to protest. He was one of the best behaved boys in the neighbourhood. Most other boys would have called him a “goody-two-shoes”. But he knew better than to speak.
“So I reckon I’ll keep him here where I can keep an eye on him”, his mother said. Shane looked very worried now. “We’ll see how well behaved he is for his mommy.” He figured he had better be good or he could end up being kept like this for a long time.
When she had finished the bowl, she pushed his dummy back in and asked Mrs. Hall to keep an eye on him for a few minutes. His mother went upstairs. Mrs. Hall looked at him with an amused look on her face. “Who’s a pretty boy then”, she said. She lifted his petticoats to get a better look at his frilly panties. She smirked.
They heard noises coming from the attic. After a few minutes his mother came down carrying a large box and went into the front room. He thought the box looked vaguely familiar but he couldn’t recall where he had seen it before.
He listened intently, trying to figure out what she was doing. Eventually she came into the kitchen and took his arm. She brought him into the front room. She had assembled the old wooden play-pen in the middle of the floor. Mrs. Hall sniggered.
Shane resisted a little as his mother brought him towards the pen. He knew he couldn’t refuse but he was going to make his displeasure known. He whined from behind his dummy but his mother put him in the play pen and closed the side.
“Sit down now”, she instructed. He looked around the confined space and eventually sat. He knew he could easily climb out but he was not in a position to defy her. His mother left the room again, leaving Mrs. Hall smiling at the poor boy.
When his mother came back she was carrying some toys. She placed a tin mini-xylophone in the play-pen and a couple of teddies. Mrs. Hall was very amused by this. His mother went off in search of more baby toys and returned with a little drum and letter blocks.
He just sat there, unenthusiastic about playing with any of these. But his mother insisted that he take a drum stick. He could just about hold it between his mittens. “Go on”, she prompted him. He reluctantly hit the drum a couple of times. Mrs. Hall clapped in delight.
-
The two women went into the kitchen leaving Shane in the play-pen. He couldn’t hear what they were talking about but after ten minutes or so they emerged. “I shouldn’t be more than a couple of hours”, Mrs. Hall said. She looked into the front room. “Bye bye pet”, she said Shane. He glared at her. “Don’t be rude”, his mother said, “wave bye-bye.” Shane mechanically waved a mitten. Mrs. Hall went out the door tittering.
After an hour or so Shane wet himself again. He knew there was no point in trying to hold it in. He just relaxed and let the warmth spread around his nappy. His mother was in the kitchen and he need to attract her attention.
“Mmmm”, he grunted through the dummy. Nothing. She had the radio on. “MMMMM.” Still nothing. He wondered if this was a reasonable excuse to climb out of the pen. He didn’t want to earn a punishment of an hour in this wet nappy. He got up on his knees and leaned over the corner of the pen nearest the kitchen. “MMMMM.”
He tried several times to no avail. He sat back on his legs and felt the wet squelch of his nappy. He grimaced. It was starting to go cold already.
A little while later, his mother decided to turn off the radio. Almost immediately she heard a whimper coming from the front room. “Is that you dear?” “MMMMMM.” She went into the front room and found Shane leaning on the side of the pen looking up in desperation. “What’s wrong?” she asked. He pointed his hand at his nappy.
“Oh, are you wet dear?” He nodded firmly. “OK. We just need to wait until Mrs. Hall gets back.” She turned and left him in his wet nappy without further explanation.
When it was clear that she was not coming back to him he went to sit down very gingerly. The soggy nappy was most uncomfortable.
About half an hour later the door bell rang and his mother let Mrs. Hall in. They muttered to each other, inaudibly to Shane. His mother popped her head in the door. “We’ll be with you in a moment. Play with your xylophone while you are waiting.” She waited for him to start playing. He reckoned he had better go along with this in order to get out of the wet nappy quickly.
He tried to pick up the stick but couldn’t because of the mittens. “Here, let me”. His mother came over, reached into the pen and picked up the stick. She placed it between his mittens and he held it. She stood there until he started to plink-plink at the toy, then she left.
After a couple of minutes tapping at the xylophone, he paused for a frustrated sigh. He took the dummy out to give himself a break. “I don’t hear you”, his mother called from the utility room. He resumed his tuneless plinking.
Eventually she returned. “Now, we’re ready for you.” She opened the side of the pen and he clambered to his feet. She insisted on taking him by the hand.
She led him into the utility room. They had covered a table with what looked like pink plastic padding. Then he saw the pile of a dozen cotton nappies. He pulled back from the table but his mother tugged his hand. He noticed a jumbo economy pack of baby wipes. It was becoming abundantly clear that they were planning to keep him in nappies for some time.
“Please Mum!” he begged. “Now, now, babies don’t talk.” She looked around for his soother. She continued tugging him towards the changing table. He groaned as he pulled against her.
Mrs. Hall took his other arm and they brought him over to the table. They started removing his baby clothes. This was some relief, so he let them do it but he kept looking at the pile of nappies with great concern. When he was down to just the nappy, he refused to get up on the changing table.
“Do you want your nappy changed or not?” his mother asked pointedly. He sighed. Of course he did. He had no choice but to sit up on the table. His mother pushed him back to make him lie down.
She removed his plastic pants and then unpinned the sodden nappy. She wiped him down. He turned over and back when instructed. “Have you got the razor?” she asked Mrs. Hall. She started scrapping the razor around his groin removing the pubic hair. Shane craned his neck and looked down in shock. “What are you doing?” “We need to remove all the hair around here while you are in nappies”, his mother told him.
His head flopped back on the table and he pleaded “Mum, this is ridiculous please stop.” He wanted to get up and run but he was afraid to move while she had the razor so close to his vitals. His mother ignored his pleas and continued to remove hair. He started crying in frustration.
“Where IS his soother?” Mrs. Hall went into the front room and found it in the pen. She returned and handed it to his mother. “There we are”, she said holding it towards Shane’s mouth. He shook his head from side to side, still crying. “Come on, you’ll feel better when you nurse on this.”
He firmly turned his head to the side in refusal. “Now don’t be bold”, she warned, “you know what the consequences will be.” His shoulders shook as he cried. She pushed the soother against his lips. After a few seconds he relented and the soother slipped into his mouth.
He continued shaking as he cried for another few seconds but gradually the hopelessness of his situation sank in and his crying eased. “There we are, that’s better”, his mother said. She turned to Mrs. Hall. “Aren’t soothers wonderful?” Shane glared at her. He deliberately sobbed a couple of times in an attempt to prove her wrong but he couldn’t keep it up and just sniffled as he nursed the dummy.
He was told to turn over again as his mother continued shaving. When she was done at that, she rubbed a cream into his bottom. He turned over again and she rubbed it around his groin.
She reached over and took a nappy from the top of the pile. He sobbed a couple of times and looked at his mother hoping for some reprieve. She ignored him and tapped his bottom to make him raise it.
Soon he was pinned into another nappy and she pulled a clean pair of plastic pants up over it. “Now sit up”, she instructed him. When he did he saw that Mrs. Hall was holding up a blue pastel dress that had a pale pink pinafore with a heart shaped front. He looked at it in disbelief. They had obtained another baby dress for him!
He grunted and groaned as he struggled to stop them putting it on him but they quickly pulled it over his head and zipped him up. He was crying again as his mother placed a matching lace trimmed bonnet with a large stiff crescent-shaped rim on his head while Mrs. Hall pulled ankle socks with three layers of frills on his feet.
Then his mother flapped out a pair of blue bloomers that had ruffled lace around the leg openings. She pulled them up his legs and they fitted snugly over the bulge of his nappy.
While Mrs. Hall buckled on his t-bar shoes, his mother took hold of something attached to his pinafore. He looked down, curious to see what she was doing. She looped it through the ring of his soother. “There! Now you won’t lose your soother”, she assured him. He tried to not to be upset at this but a few sniffles escaped. “It looks like you’ll be needing it.”
Once his t-bar shoes were buckled on they brought him back to the play pen in the front room. Passing the hall mirror he saw that, while the flared dress was slightly longer than his pink one, the bloomers came half-way to his knees and were clearly visible.
-
His mother put him back in the play-pen while she made dinner. The sound of pots and pans being moved around was followed by the scraping of cutlery against delft. He sat there worried was he going to be fed at all.
He heard plates being placed in the sink before she came in and freed him from the pen. She brought him into the kitchen, sat him at the table and put a bib on him. On the worktop was a plate with vegetables and meat balls. He cheered up considerably. While he hated the prospect of his mother having to feed him at least he was going to eat.
His mother took the plate but, instead of bringing it over to him, she scraped the contents into a mixer. She switched it on and he watched as his dinner was reduced to a mush. She emptied the contents into a bowl, took a spoon and came over to him.
It looked a lot less appetising but at least it would taste the same. She held a spoonful up to his mouth. He took the dummy from his mouth and let it dangle from his dress. He eagerly accepted the spoon. The mix was only lukewarm. It had obviously gone cool while she ate her own dinner.
He ate it all without resistance. He tried to ignore her encouragement. “That’s a good baby.” “There we are, nearly all done.” Once done, she pushed his dummy back in and he was returned to the play pen.
He was bored silly. None of the toys in the pen could amuse him. Every now and then his mother encouraged him to play the drum or xylophone. He stared out the window but little was happening in the garden. His mother switched on the TV and found a channel with Barney on. She put the remote on the coffee table and left him staring at the TV glumly.
He heard her go into the bathroom. He took the opportunity to take a respite from the dummy. Then suddenly a boy appeared at the window. He pressed his face against the glass and shielded his eyes from the glare. “Hah!”, he shouted when he saw Shane in the play pen. “It’s true! Look!” He beckoned with his hand.
Other children joined him at the window. Shane was frozen in shock. “He IS still dressed as a baby girl!” “And look! He’s sitting in a pen!” He thought about jumping out of the pen and running out of the room but his mother had it well drilled into him already that this was forbidden.
One of the girls who had been at the party noticed: “that’s a different dress! He has two baby dresses!” Shane got up on his knees, leaned on the side of the pen with his back to them and tried to summon his mother. “MMMMMM!” He was too afraid to talk.
“Look at those frilly panties!” one of the children screamed. Shane winced and tried to push his dress down but kept his back to them. “And you can see he’s obviously still wearing a thick nappy!” He sat down in a belated attempt to conceal this.
There were now about eight children shoving each other aside for a better look. “Would you look at that bonnet!” Shane could take it no more. “MUM!” Nothing. He started crying in frustration. “Look at the baby cry. And he’s watching Barney.” “I love you, you love me”, they all sang and laughed.
He heard the bathroom door open. “MUM!” She came into the room quickly. She saw the children at the window. Some of them ran off but the cheekier ones were determined to see what happened next. She looked at Shane crying in the pen. “Oh, are they teasing you, poor darling?” Shane nodded vigorously.
She came over and he expected her to make them scram. But she took his dummy and pushed it into his mouth. “There, there.” The remaining children at the window roared laughing. “The cry-baby is suc-king on his dummy now!”
Only then did she go over to the window and tell them to go away. They reluctantly ran off. She turned to Shane in the pen. He was in floods of tears. “Looks like you need more than the dummy this time.” He tried to give her his most plaintive look possible. Surely she couldn’t leave him like this with the whole neighbourhood knowing he was being kept in nappies and baby dresses.
She pulled him to his feet and put her arms around him. Initially he just cried all the more but eventually it subsided. “There, there”, she said soothingly. But when he stopped crying she made him sit down in the cot again and left the room. He sat there sniffling and nursing the dummy.
Boys continued appearing at the window at intervals for the rest of the evening. Shane would grunt through his soother and his mother would come in and make them go away. He needed to do a number 2 and knew he had to get up on his knees to do this but he was terrified that a Peeping Tom would catch him in the act so he held it until dark when his mother finally drew the curtains.
When he got on his knees she said “that’s a good baby, I’ll prepare the changing table for you.” He sighed and started pushing.
-
Again, he was put to bed in a nappy. In the morning, his mother put the pink baby dress on him. He offered little resistance but just looked grumpy at the prospect of another day in nappies.
Shortly after breakfast his niece Emily came to the door. When his mother opened it she asked “is Uncle Shane still dressed as a baby girl?” His mother confirmed this. “Can I see him?” “Sure, come in.”
They came into the kitchen. “Look who’s here to see you”, his mother said. Emily was delighted. “Ha! Ha! You look just like a little baby!” “It’s time to put you in the play pen”, his mother said and she took him by the hand and led him into the front room.
Emily followed behind. “Uncle Shane is still in nappies!” she noticed. His mother put him in the pen and inserted his dummy. “Can I see him having his nappy changed?” Emily asked. “Sure. He hasn’t wet himself yet this morning. You can feed him a bottle of milk and that should make sure that he does pee-pees.” Emily jumped up and down in anticipation as she followed his mother into the kitchen.
Emily returned on her own after a few minutes with the baby bottle of milk. “Here’s your milk baba”, she said and giggled. Shane knew better than to refuse so he got up on his knees, removed the soother and put his hands on the side of the pen. Emily held the bottle up to his mouth and he obediently started suc-king.
“Is he taking his bottle?” his mother called from the kitchen. “Yes. He’s a good baba”, Emily replied. “Glad to hear it.”
His mother came in just as he finished his bottle. He was about to sit down when she said “come here”. She got down on her knees and put her arms around him. She proceeded to pat his back. After a few moments Shane burped. Emily jumped up and down and laughed.
His mother returned to the kitchen but Emily stayed with him and made him play with the toys. She revelled in her absolute control over him. He had to do whatever she wanted. One time, as his mother passed by, he was trying to play “twinkle, twinkle, little star” on the xylophone. Emily scolded him each time he hit a bum note.
In the middle of “three blind mice” Shane stopped suddenly. He looked down in embarrassment. His pee was spreading around his nappy. “I think Uncle Shane is wetting himself”, Emily called.
After a few minutes, when his mother was sure he was all done, she took him from the pen. “You ARE being a good little baby today”, she told him. “You might even earn a treat with your lunch if you continue to be good.”
They brought him into the utility room. His mother took off his dress. “Oh, his soother is attached to his dress”, she told Emily, “will you undo it so he can nurse it while he is being changed?”
He sat up on the table and lay back. He co-operated fully as his mother removed his plastic pants and nappy. Emily came over with his dummy and held it up to him. He opened his mouth and let her insert it. She laughed and clapped.
His mother kept up a running commentary for Emily. “Now we sprinkle a little powder on his botty and rub it in.” Emily was enthralled. “Now fetch his clean nappy please”, his mother asked. Emily held up the clean nappy, looked at Shane and smiled.
His mother pulled up his plastic pants and tucked his nappy inside. Emily handed her his pink baby dress and he was soon zipped in again. They brought him back to his pen. “Emily, would you attach his soother to his dress again please?” Emily was revelling in her new responsibility.
Shortly after this, Shane’s sister Helen, Emily’s mother, arrived. “We just changed Uncle Shane’s nappy”, Emily informed her with great excitement. Helen came into the front room. She grinned from ear to ear. “Isn’t he adorable?” Shane cheeks started to redden again.
“How long are you going to keep him like this?” Shane looked at his mother anxiously hoping for a clearer answer this time. “That’s up to him. So far he’s been a very good little baby girl today. Much better than the bold boy he was before.”
“I wouldn’t let him out of nappies too soon”, his sister warned. He glared at her. “He might just go back to his old ways.” “Do you think?” his mother wondered.
“Oh yes. I think he’ll need a good stay in nappies to really let him know who is boss.” “Mmmm”, his mother thought about this. His sister warmed to the subject.
“You have complete control now and you should use it.” Shane started to get very concerned. “I think you should treat him completely like a baby and make him look completely like a baby so that you really get the message home.”
“What do you mean?” his mother asked. “You should bottle feed him every few hours to make sure he was to wet himself regularly. You should feed him lots of high-fibre food and maybe a little laxative so that he can’t help but soil himself. Put him to bed at eight every night. I think his hair is just about long enough to make cute sausage curls. You should put him in double thick nappies so that he looks and walks even more babyishly. You’ve got to ram home just how helpless he is and how completely dependent he is on you and the rest of us. It’s for his own good.”
“Wow”, his mother said.
-
His sister, Helen, was still there as his mother prepared lunch. Shane suc-ked on a bottle full of milk in his pen but could hear what was being said. “Now you can make him eat all those vegetables he refused to eat before”, Helen advised his mother. “Spinach, boiled cabbage, sprouts. You could never get him to eat these. He’ll have no choice now. You could add prune juice and blend it all in the processor into a puree that you can spoon-feed him.”
Shane dreaded his next meal. He was brought into the kitchen and sat at the table. In front of him was an unappetising green mush with a purple tinge. Seeing the look on his face his mother said “now, we’re not going to have a problem here are we? You’ve been such a good baby so far today.” Shane looked up at her and shook his head. But then he stared at the bowl again with a very dubious look.
His mother tied the bib around his neck and sat beside him. Helen and Emily watched. His mother stirred the mix, removed his dummy and took up a spoonful. Shane opened his mouth and she inserted the spoon. He took the spoonful and held it in his mouth, bracing himself for the taste. He grimaced and swallowed quickly. The women laughed as he shuddered.
He looked up pleadingly at his mother but she already had the next spoonful ready. A little tear came to his eye as he opened his mouth to receive it. Each time, before he recovered from the appalling taste, another spoonful was held up in front of him. He realised that the quicker he ate it the sooner it would be over but he wasn’t sure if he could stomach it all.
As the feeding continued, Helen suggested “we need to get him a high-chair for feeding.” His mother smiled at the thought but knew that high-chairs didn’t come big enough to hold Shane.
“Mr. Ramsey, who owns the shop, is into carpentry”, Helen continued, warming to the idea. “He was telling me that Shane used to steal sweets from his shop. I’d say he would be delighted to make him a high-chair. And maybe even a wooden cot.” Shane looked at his mother with great concern. She seemed to be thinking about it seriously. “Do you think he would?”
Being spoon-fed was humiliating enough. Shane certainly didn’t like the idea of being fed in a high-chair – or having to sleep in a cot. But what concerned him most was the thought that they wouldn’t be going to all this trouble if they only intended to keep him in nappies for a short time. It would surely take days of hard work to make a high-chair or cot. They were hardly likely to put him in it for a day or two and then forget about it.
Shane was put back in the pen while the others had their lunch. He could smell the chicken from the front room and it drove him mad while he suc-ked on his dummy trying to kill the after-taste of his meal.
When the washing up was done his mother and Helen came in with a tray of bottles and curlers and evil grins on their faces. There was little Shane could do to stop them and a couple of hours later his hair was a mass of sausage curls. A couple dangled at the edge of his vision but Emily fetched a mirror so he could see them in their full glory. He started crying again so she pushed in his dummy for comfort. His mother carefully placed his bonnet on his head so that the ringlets protruded beneath it and could be clearly seen.
As the women were tidying up after their work, Shane felt the need to fart. He tilted slightly to one side to allow it escape but what came out was more than a fart and it was very loud. The women froze at the sound. They looked at each other and laughed. There then followed a prolonged noise as Shane’s nappy filled with very liquid poo.
When the smell hit them the women ran from the room giggling. They eventually mustered up the courage to come back with noses firmly clamped and rescued poor Shane. He was in floods of tears now. Before, he had needed to get up on his knees and push hard to do a poo. Now he couldn’t help it.
There was much grimacing as the women changed him. When he was finally clean, Helen suggested doubling up on the nappy. She pulled two layers of cotton nappy around him, forcing his legs further apart. She pinned him in. His mother was unsure that the plastic pants would fit over the double nappy but they were well elasticated and she was just about able to tuck the thick nappy in. The frilly panties were similarly stretched to their limit but did the job.
Shane got down from the changing table and stood bow-legged on the floor. The two women crossed the room and turned to face him. His mother held out her hands and called “come to Mummy dear”. Shane glared at them, realising what they were up to. But he had to walk sometime.
He waddled across the room and the women burst out laughing. “Perfect!” Helen was delighted. “Look at the way his ringlets shake as he waddles!” Emily came in to see what the fuss was about. She laughed and pointed when she saw the way her uncle’s movement was constrained by the over-sized nappy.
Helen stopped laughing suddenly. “I’ve another idea”, she blurted. “What?” her mother asked. “Tights!” she said. “Boys absolutely hate tights and he’d look so adorably pretty in a pair of white wool-knit tights!” As she predicted, there was a look of horror on Shane’s face as she ran from the room and out of the house.
His mother helped Shane waddle back to his pen. He was sitting there when Helen came back. “Look what I found”, she announced. She held up a pair of pink tights. Her mother and Emily gasped when they saw them and turned to see the look on Shane’s face.
They opened the pen and Shane tried to scramble away. His mother pulled off his frilly panties. Then Helen grabbed a leg. He tried to twist and turn but his mother practically sat on him while Helen pulled one leg of the tights onto him. “Once we get his feet into the tights we’ll have him.” He kicked the other foot away from her but she grabbed it and forced it close enough to be able to pull the other leg of the tights onto him. Once she had the tights up to his ankles they let go for a moment.
Shane kicked both feet in the air but there was nothing he could do to get the tights off. They let him twist and turn until he realised that he was stuck. Then as the tears streamed down his face again they pulled the pink tights up his legs and over his nappy.
When his frilly panties were pulled up over the tights, the women stood back to admire their handiwork. They looked down at the seated boy and smiled at the ringlets dangling beneath his bonnet and at his pink legs, spread to a wide angle by the thick nappy. When the soother started bobbing in and out of his mouth at a regular pace it just completed the picture.
-
They continued feeding Shane milk or juice every couple of hours. He was spoon-fed more pureed vegetables and prune juice mix in the evening. He was unable to avoid more very liquid poo oozing out later and had to be changed again.
His mother put him to bed at eight. It was still bright outside. Emily came into his room as he was getting into bed. “I can stay up until ten o’clock”, she boasted. Then she handed Shane a doll and his mother insisted that he lie down with his arm around it.
He couldn’t sleep. He wasn’t the least bit tired and the prospect of being kept in very thick nappies and baby dresses and tights for the foreseeable future didn’t help.
After another couple of hours his tummy rumbled again. He desperately tried to avoid doing a poo but it just oozed out anyway. He blubbered away for ten minutes or so at his inability to control his toilet. Then he pulled himself together and realised he would have to get his mother to change him. He didn’t want to be in the smelly nappy all night.
He got out of the bed and went towards the door. Then he thought he was in danger of being punished if he appeared without his soother and dolly, so he went back and found the dummy, pushed it in, tucked the dolly under his arm and went downstairs.
He had to take great care going down the stairs. The thick nappy spreading his legs meant he had to swing one leg down a step at a time. The mittens meant that he only had a very tentative hold on the banister.
He stood at the door of the front room. His mother was reading a magazine. She looked up and saw him standing at the door in his nappy, suc-king on the dummy, clutching the doll, his red eyes a dead giveaway that he had been crying.
“What’s wrong dear?” she asked in a pretend-sympathetic voice. Shane pointed to his nappy. His mother’s nose twitched. “Dear oh dear. We’re going to run out of clean nappies if you keep up this rate”, she said as she stood up from the chair. Shane frowned. It wasn’t his fault. They were making him lose control. But he wasn’t in a position to argue. He had to wake her at 4am to be changed again.
The next morning he sat at the table suc-king on another bottle of milk while his mother prepared breakfast. She came over with a bowl of rusks with milk poured over them. She was mashing the rusks into a soft pulp.
Helen and Emily arrived. “Oh, his blue dress is adorable too. And he looks so cute in those white tights! Emily brought some of her favourite dolls and toys for him.”
When he had finished his rusks, they brought him to the play pen. Emily started handing him lots of cute dollies and he had to arrange them around the pen. She also had nursery rhyme books with stories of princesses and fairies. Then she produced DVDs of “A Little Princess”, “My Little Pony”.
“I’m too big for these now”, she said, “but Baby Shane will probably love them.” “Isn’t Emily very good to give you her dollies and toys?” Helen asked in a semi-threatening way. Shane knew he was required to be grateful so he nodded.
“Emily, you read Baby Shane a story while we have coffee”, Helen said. “The poor thing can’t turn the pages of the books so he needs you to read to him.” Emily opened a book, knelt down beside the pen and started “once upon a time …”
The women returned an hour later so find Emily still reading to a pretty bored looking Shane. He tried to perk up when he saw them and feign interest in the story.
“I must get some photos of him in that baby dress”, Helen said and went for her camera. When she returned Shane was required to adopt all sorts of poses for her. He looked thoroughly miserable in all of the shots, unable to smile in the knowledge that these embarrassing photos would probably be shown to all and sundry.
The doubly-thick nappy was so obvious under the short dress that there was no point whatsoever in trying to hide it. “Get up on your hands and knees there so we can see the frilly bloomers properly”, Helen instructed him.
And so his day continued with regular changings, bottles, feedings of mashed vegetables and his eight-year-old niece lording it over him in his babyfied state. She wanted to bring him his bottle, spoon-feed him and help in the changings. She made sure he cuddled a dolly at all times and read him endless stories.
The highlight for her, though, was when she produced the toy ducks. They were all in a line on a string and when you pulled them they waddled along behind you. She made Shane go all around the house with the ducks strung behind seemingly mimicking his waddle. She made him walk into the kitchen where the women were chatting and they roared laughing at the sight.
At the end of the day, it was a relief for him to be tucked up in bed (after a bedtime story read by Emily) - even if he was cuddling a doll, suc-king on a soother and facing a night of at least two changings.
-
The next day Mrs. Wilson (of the football-through-the-window) arrived. “I heard that you’re keeping him in nappies, so I thought I’d offer to make him a new baby dress.” “Isn’t that kind of Mrs. Wilson?” his mother asked him. Shane looked up from his play-pen wanting to cry but trying to maintain his composure.
Mrs. Wilson smiled at the sight of this previously troublesome boy looking up at her from the confines of his play-pen in his pink baby dress, pink legs splayed and clutching a cabbage-patch doll.
“I don’t think he’ll be kicking a football for a while”, she observed. “No”, his mother agreed, “he can barely walk.” She opened the pen, helped him to his feet and made him waddle across the room.
“What colour would you like his new dress to be?” Mrs. Wilson asked. “Well, he has pink and blue dresses. What about yellow?” his mother suggested. The women continued discussing his new outfit. “Big puffed sleeves of course. A Peter Pan collar. Little bows at his shoulders and waist. I can make organza petticoats that really stand out and keep their shape forever.”
His mother was delighted with all of this. “I would suggest gathering the skirt in places with a bow, to show off the petticoats underneath”, Mrs. Wilson continued “Now for the panties, I make pettipants for dance costumes. They are gorgeous panties with a few inches of leg, absolutely covered from top to bottom with rows of frills. I can see that I’ll have to make them quite big to fit over his nappy. I’ll make the dress very short so that everyone can see the panties in their full glory.”
Shane was fighting back the tears as he heard his new baby dress being described. It make his current two dresses sound relatively plain. “I’ll make a broderie anglaise mop cap so that we can see all of his beautiful sausage curls.”
As she left, Mrs. Wilson told his mother it “wouldn’t take more than a couple of weeks” to complete his baby dress. When his mother returned from the front door he was in tears again at this confirmation that he would be more than a few days in nappies.
Just before lunch, Helen arrived with the high-chair Mr. Ramsay had made. “That was quick”, his mother said. “He just used an old kitchen counter chair and attached a swing tray and a few straps”, Helen told her.
They brought it into the front room where Shane was in the play-pen. It came as no surprise to him that the high-chair had been painted pink. The women excitedly took him from the pen and made him sit up in the chair. Helen pulled the straps around him, tightened and fastened them. Then she swung the tray around in front of him and it clicked into position.
Shane tried to find a rung to rest his feet on underneath but there didn’t seem to be one, so his legs just dangled in mid-air. His mother went to heat up his lunch and returned with the usual bowlful of mush. Helen put his bib on and spoon-fed him. “Mm-mmm!” she went as she pushed another horrid spoonful in.
After he was fed, Helen asked about a particular plant in the garden and they went out to discuss it. Shane was left in the high-chair assigned the task of finishing a bottle of juice. He had a toy car he pushed around the tray in between suc-king from the bottle.
Then he thought he heard tittering. He looked up and two girls were peeping in the window. When they realised that they had been seen they stood up and started laughing out loud. Shane wondered how long had they been watching.
“Look at the big baby in his high-chair!” “Did you see him suc-king from his baby bottle?” “And playing with his little toy, ah!” “Look at his pink tights! Ha ha ha.”
Shane instinctively tried to get out of the high-chair but the straps held him very firmly. “Ah look, he’s strapped into his high-chair. Can the poor baby not get out?” He wriggled desperately, kicking his pink legs in the air but his struggling made his ringlets jiggle about, drawing attention to them.
One of the girls pointed but couldn’t speak she was laughing so hard. “His…..his…..his hair is in …. in ringlets!” she eventually managed to say. “My God! He looks completely like the cutest baby girl!”
Shane was in floods of tears from the frustration. He gave up his pointless attempts to get out of the high-chair. He had no choice but to sit there and take their taunts and laughter. The girls called some friends over and soon there were a dozen children gathered.
“I think his mother must intend to keep him as a baby if she has had a special high-chair made for him”, one of the girls observed. “I heard Mrs. Wilson is making him another dress even more babyish than that”, another girl told them. “That’s right, she makes the frilliest dance dresses.”
Shane couldn’t take any more and decided to risk the consequences of calling his mother. The children laughed as he called out. “Oh, poor baby wants his mummy. What’s wrong, is your nappy wet?” “I heard they make him do poos in his nappy too.”
Eventually his mother and sister appeared. “What’s wrong? Oh, are the children teasing you again?” Shane was very relieved to see her but again her first reaction was to stuff the dummy into his mouth which made the children outside howl with laughter.
The women made no attempt to make the children go away. They swung back the tray and Helen started undoing his straps. “Now, you can get down”, she told him and he jumped down to the ground. He tried to walk away but his mother and sister took an arm each. “Now they can see you properly”, Helen said as they held him in front of the window.
They turned him around. “Look at those frilly panties! And the size of that nappy!” Shane was in floods of tears again. “Alright, you can get into your pen”, Helen said as if that was some relief but the pen was still in full view of the window. They let go and he waddled towards the pen. This brought more screams of laughter from the children outside. “He looks more babyish than my one-year-old sister”, one of them said.
Eventually the women made the children go away and gave Shane some peace in his pen. He continued to sniffle as he suc-ked on the soother and held a dolly tightly to his chest. “Everyone hates me except my dollies”, he found himself thinking.
-
Shane was put to bed at eight o’clock again. When his mother took him from the pen he was still holding the dolly. He brought it to bed with him and was still holding it when she tucked him in. An hour later she peeked in the door. He still had his arm around the dolly and the soother bobbed in and out every few seconds.
The next morning Shane had been changed, dressed and fed before Helen and Emily arrived. They looked at him in the pen. “Is that the same dolly he was holding yesterday?” Helen asked of the doll that had yellow ringlets and a white dress. “Yes”, his mother said, “it’s definitely his favourite.” Shane glared at them.
“You know, he looks just like the perfect baby girl”, Helen observed, “but we really need to get him to act like he’s the happiest baby girl in the world.” A very troubled look came over Shane’s face. What now?
“Now, Shane.” Helen got down on her knees beside the pen. Shane observed her warily. “We have a tub of delicious caramel ice cream. The one with the nuts – your favourite. Wouldn’t you like some of that ice cream?” The boy nodded cautiously. He’d had nothing but tasteless rusks and horrible pureed vegetables for days now.
“Well, if you’re a really good little baby girl this morning, we just might let you have some after your lunch. Wouldn’t that be nice?” Shane nodded but remained impassive.
“Are you going to give us a little smile?” Helen asked. Shane gave her an uncertain look. “For some lovely ice-cream?” she prompted. Shane gave a little smile. “Oh, you’ll have to do better than that.” Shane forced the smile into something wider.
“Now, clap hands”, Helen instructed. Shane slapped his mittens together. “There’s a good baby! Again. That’s it.” Emily giggled.
His mother went over to the radio and turned on a music station. “Dance to the music”, she ordered him. Shane gave a plaintive look but then started to move his upper body to the beat. “That’s it!” his mother said and they all laughed. Shane stopped. “No, keep it up.” Shane resumed his bopping about and they were delighted.
Helen opened the side of the pen and helped Shane to his feet. “Now whenever a visitor comes in I want you to stand and curtsey.” Shane gave her a puzzled look. She demonstrated by bending her right leg behind her left and holding her imaginary dress out at the sides between her forefingers and thumbs.
Shane looked down at his mittens. He pushed his skirts out at the sides and bent his right leg like she had done. They all clapped eagerly. “Again. But hold your skirts up so we can see the layers of petticoats.” Shane repeated as instructed and they were delighted. “Don’t forget to keep smiling.”
“Now when someone compliments you on your pretty dress you are to turn around so they can see it from the back and then bend over to show off your beautiful panties”, Helen told him. “Oh isn’t your dress adorable”, his mother prompted. Shane gave a rather pained look. “Now, now, less of that or there will be no ice cream for you.”
Shane smiled, held out his petticoats again and turned around. Then he bent over and they were able to see all the rows of frills on his panties. “Excellent! Now I want you to skip across the floor”, Helen told him. He was about to frown when he stopped himself. After all this, he didn’t want to jeopardise the ice cream at this stage.
He skipped across the room, although rather clumsily because of his enormous nappy. The women were delighted with the way his petticoats flounced and gave glimpses of his frilly panties.
Having performed satisfactorily, Shane was put back in his pen and told to play with his toys. This he did seemingly willingly – not wanting to jeopardise his treat. He forced himself to smile anytime they paid him any attention and it seemed to keep them happy.
When lunch finally came, he was presented in the high-chair with the usual bowl of tepid vegetables. He was disappointed that he still had to eat that gunge and frowned. “Now, now”, his mother warned, “you still have to eat your vegetables.” He sighed. “Right that’s it”, she blurted, “no ice cream for you.” Shane was devastated. After putting up with all that humiliation, he still wasn’t getting his ice cream.
Not only that, but his mother poured prune juice over his vegetables and mashed it in. Tears were rolling down Shane’s face by the time she brought the bowl over to him. “Now I hope we’re not going to have any more trouble from you, are we?” she asked as she held a spoonful up to his mouth. He shook his head as the tears continued to flow. He opened his mouth and braced himself as she inserted the spoon.
He realised that he had to be good as gold to satisfy them. Once the horrible meal was finished he resolved that he had no choice but to do what they wanted. He tried to smile and play happily with his letter blocks while the rest of them tucked into their bowls of ice cream.
In the afternoon, Emily disappeared for a few minutes. She returned asking “can my friends come in and see Shane?” He braced himself in the play pen and Emily came in with four other eight-year-old girls who promptly burst out laughing.
“This is my baby uncle Shane”, Emily told them. Shane got to his feet, forced a smile and curtsied. The girls had to hold each other up. “What a pretty baby dress”, one of them finally commented when she recovered. Shane turned around as daintily as he could and bent over to another explosion of laughter. “Those panties are so cute! And the pink tights! I remember my mommy wanted to make me wear an outfit like that when I was little but I refused”, another girl said.
When his mother came in with bowls of ice cream for the girls, Shane was skipping back and forth across the room. “Shall we give him a bowl of ice cream for being such a good little baby girl?” When she returned with another bowl the girls had strapped him into his high-chair. They had to stand on chairs themselves to reach. “Who wants to feed him?” “Me!” “Me!” “Me!” “Me!”
-
In the evening Helen came in to tell them that Mr. Ramsey had finished Shane’s cot already. “He’s bringing it over now.” Shane listened as the cot was manoeuvred up the stairs and into his room. Then he was brought upstairs.
The cot was a perfect replica of a baby’s wooden cot, only big enough for Shane to lie down in. Needless to say it was painted pink. Mr. Ramsey was proudly running his hand over the smooth headboard. Cartoon characters had been stencilled on both ends of the cot.
His mother unclipped the side bars and signalled Shane to get in. He waddled over and climbed into the cot on his hands and knees giving a everyone a perfect view of his frilly panties. He turned and sat. His mother replaced the bars. They clicked into place.
Mr. Ramsey showed her the catches holding the bars in place. “He won’t be able to open the catches with his hands in the mittens. Of course, he could climb out over the bars but I have something else here”, he said.
He produced a white leather harness and pulled it over Shane’s arms. He showed his mother how to tighten it around Shane’s chest and buckle it in place. Shane looked down and saw the words “Pretty Baby” stitched into the leather. “That was Mrs. Ramsey’s idea.”
Mr. Ramsey demonstrated how the reins could be tied to the cot’s bars to make absolutely sure that Shane could not get out. “It will work with the play pen too”, Mr. Ramsey told them. “I’m sure that won’t be necessary”, Helen said. “He’s being such a good little baby girl now. Aren’t you?” Shane nodded. “You won’t try to get out of your beautiful new cot will you?” Shane shook his head. “Don’t you just love your new cot?” she continued. Shane clapped his hands and they all laughed.
His mother looked at the bed propped up against the wall to make room for the cot. “Where are we going to put that?” Helen had an idea. “Emily needs a bigger bed. Maybe she should have it.” “Sure”, his mother said, “if she would like that.” Emily was thrilled at the prospect.
Shane was less pleased. They were taking away his old bed and leaving him with a pink wooden cot. The prospects of him getting out of nappies and baby dresses seemed to be receding further and further. He got up on his knees and held the bars of his cot as he watched his bed being taken away.
Later, Helen produced some old items from when Emily was little. She strung across a line that had various rattles and bells hanging from it. She made Shane lie down and slap them with his mittens. She hung a carousel of cut-out animals that revolved above him. She called out each animal and made him point to them.
Then she placed a baby monitor on the bedside table and got Emily to go down and check if it was working. “You won’t be able to get out of the cot when you have a wet nappy now so you’ll have to cry into this so that Mummy can come and change you.” She made him cry to see if Emily could hear it.
Next she produced a tape recorder and half a dozen tapes of nursery rhymes and lullabies. She put a tape in a pressed play. “Go to sleep. Go to sleep,” a lady sang.
Emily helped her arranged cuddly toys around the cot. “So you won’t be lonely all night”, Helen told him. Finally she plugged a night light into a corner socket and switched off the main light.
Shane was undressed, given his final bottle and tucked in. “Can I read him a story?” Emily asked. “Would you like Emily to read you a bed-time story?” Helen asked Shane. He knew the required response and clapped his hands.
Emily pulled up a chair and opened a book. It was Cinderella. “No. That’s too grown up for you”, she decided. She searched for something she thought would be more appropriate. “Ah. Noddy and Big Ears.”
She read to him for half and hour and decided that was enough. She turned on the tape of lullabies and crept from the room. Shane knew he was going to wet himself before too long.
His mother was seeing Helen and Emily to the door when they heard the cry from the baby monitor. “Oh what’s wrong with the poor dear now?” she wondered.
-
The next day Shane was let out of his cot in the morning, changed and dressed in his blue pastel outfit. He was given a bottle of juice and then his mother spoon-fed him his rusks in the high-chair. He played away in his pen for the rest of the morning. He could occasionally be heard plinking on the toy xylophone or shaking rattles.
Around noon he was lying back on the changing table having his stinky nappy changed. As he nursed on the dummy, he realised that nobody had teased him about his nappies or baby dress that day. Or the fact that he was holding his favourite dolly all morning. His mother was changing him in a matter-of-fact manner.
Helen and Emily arrived and seemed only mildly interested in Shane. Although it felt like an eternity, it was only his seventh day in nappies. But already everyone else seemed to have gotten used to the idea. It was as if this was the most normal thing in the world.
But it wasn’t. He still wanted to scream to be let out of his nappies and baby dress but he didn’t dare. He was helpless and totally in their control. He had no choice but to grin and bear it and pray that he would be released soon if he was good.
Because he’d been so good that morning, Emily offered him a lollipop after his lunch. Normally he would scoff at the idea of suc-king on a lollipop but it would be a real treat compared to what he was being fed.
After lunch, Emily brought him into the garden. She had brought a small plastic football. She rolled it towards Shane. He waddled forward and tried to kick it back at her. The thick nappy restricted his movement and the t-bar shoes were not made for kicking ball so the football shot off at an angle but Emily still clapped and said “well done!” not wanting to dent his confidence.
His mother came out. “Be careful you don’t get those lovely white tights dirty or there’ll be hell to pay.” Emily kicked the ball to him again but he was reluctant to risk dirtying his tights so he was brought back into his pen.
In the afternoon, Mrs. Hall dropped in. She chatted with his mother in the front room over coffee while Shane played with his dolls in the play pen between them. Other than admiring his dollies and occasionally smiling at him during lulls in their conversation she paid little attention to him.
Shane began to wonder which was worse – people teasing and taunting him about being a big sissy baby or people acting as if all this was normal. He cried quietly to himself in his cot for hours that night thinking that his uneventful day may well have been just the first of many.
However, the next morning his peace was shattered. His mother seemed to be fussing over him more than usual. She renewed his sausage curls and then dressed him in his pink baby dress. She fussed over his petticoats and took ages making sure his bonnet was on just right.
As she pulled on his pink tights she said “It’s about time we brought you out and about.” Shane was shocked. Did she mean she was going to bring him out in public? He gave her a seriously concerned look. “That’s not going to be a problem is it?” she asked. “You’ve been so good.”
He was torn between desperately wanting to resist being brought out like this in public and the likely consequences of any such disobedience. He just suc-ked on his dummy as she pulled up his frilly panties and tried to fight off thoughts of being brought down the main street in broad daylight dressed as he was.
Once he was fed, his mother fetched the harness. She let him out of the high-chair. He was very reluctant to get down but did eventually. How was he going to avoid public humiliation without disobeying her and suffering the consequences?
She tightened the harness around him and took the reins. “Now, if you’re very good and do everything you are told, I’ll get you a nice ice cream in Mr. Ramsey’s.” Shane fought back the tears. Mr. Ramsey’s shop was in the middle of the main street. It wouldn’t be worth an ice-cream to go along with this but the consequences of refusing were not palatable.
His mother fetched his favourite dolly, made a few last adjustments to get his outfit just right. She made sure the lace trims on his two ankle socks were level and decided he was ready to go.
She tugged the reins and he stumbled after her. He eyed the door with growing trepidation. He held his dolly tight as she opened the door. She walked out but was jolted back when his rein drew tight. He was rooted to the carpet. She gave him a cross look and tugged at his rein again. He toddled out the door and carefully went down the steps. His mother closed the door behind him before he could change his mind.
When they were out on the footpath his mother told him to skip along. Again, he wanted to cry. It was bad enough that people would see him dressed as a baby girl but he was going to look like he was happy about it.
Still, he had no choice. He skipped as best he could in the thick nappies and his petticoats flounced around him.
They hadn’t gone far when a neighbour saw them. Mrs. Grimes had heard the stories but still couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw Shane happily skipping towards her in a big pink baby dress, revealing glimpses of his frilly panties that were obviously covering a thick nappy, suc-king on a pink dummy, his sausage curls dancing beneath his bonnet.
His mother tugged him to a halt as they met Mrs. Grimes. “I heard you had him in nappies and dressed like a baby girl”, she gasped, “but I never realised he was so happy with his new life.” Shane cringed but didn’t dare drop his act. He felt another tug on the reins and realised it was a prompt. He held out his petticoats and curtsied to Mrs. Grimes.
“What a gorgeous dress”, she commented. Shane remembered what he was supposed to do. He turned around so she could admire him from all angles. Then he bent over. She put her hand to her mouth at the full sight of his frilly panties. “Aren’t they delightful”, his mother said and he felt one of the women run their fingers along a row of lace.
“You obviously have him in old-fashioned cotton nappies”, Mrs. Grimes observed. His mother smiled her confirmation. “I’d forgotten how big and thick they look compared to these modern disposables. Must be a bit unsavoury though”, she said with a grimace. “He does go through a lot of them in a day”, his mother told her.
The women chatted for a while about other things. Shane was fine with that. He was in no hurry to go anywhere. But after a few minutes his mother had him skipping on towards the main avenue.
-
The main avenue was busy with traffic and pedestrians. Shane tried to ignore the gaping mouths as he skipped along. Cars slowed down as the disbelieving drivers and passengers took in the sight.
Resigned now to the fact that the whole town was going to see him apparently thrilled to be seen in a pretty pink baby dress with frilly panties, Shane just wanted the whole thing over as soon as possible.
They turned into the main street and his mother had to give a little tug on his reins to slow him down as Shane skipped along, eager to get into the relative privacy of Mr. Ramsey’s store. Traffic was now tailed back due to the rubber-neckers.
Shane pushed the door into the store. Mr. Ramsey was behind the counter. He beamed on seeing Shane waddle in. “Hello, there! Glad you could drop by.” A little tug on the reins and Shane curtsied. “Doesn’t he make the perfect baby girl”, Mrs. Ramsey chipped in. Without prompting Shane did a twirl and bent over to show off his frilly panties.
“I’m sure our little baby would love a lollipop”, Mr. Ramsey said, unwrapping the plastic from a red piece of confectionary. Shane’s mother took it from him, removed Shane’s soother and inserted the lollipop. Truth be known, Shane was delighted with the treat.
His mother held up one of Shane’s mittened hands. “I don’t think you need worry about him stealing anything today - or any other day.” Shane frowned wondering did she mean this because she was going to keep him in the mittens and baby outfit or because he would learn from this punishment. “He’s quite helpless”, she continued.
“You’re welcome to bring him down here anytime”, Mrs. Ramsey told his mother. “He is always welcome to a free lollipop.” The lollipop was nice, Shane thought, but hardly worth being paraded in front of the whole town. “That’s very kind of you”, his mother said, “we’ll take you up on that.”
“He just loves his new cot and the high-chair is just perfect too”, his mother commented to Mr. Ramsey. She looked at Shane for confirmation. He smiled vaguely and clapped his hands. They all laughed. “My pleasure”, Mr. Ramsey said with a broad grin. “Anything else you need, I’d be more than happy.”
Shane braced himself for going back out onto the main street. Outside the shop he waited to see which way his mother would go. To his relief, she headed for home.
As he skipped past the entrance to the park, he was halted by a tug on his reins. His mother was heading through the gate to the park. Shane sighed. He thought he was on the home straight but she had other ideas.
She brought him by the playground. The children all stop their playing as Shane appeared. “There’s the teenage boy who’s being kept in nappies”, he heard one of them shout. “It’s true. He’s wearing a really sissy baby dress.” They all ran over and surrounded Shane.
“Does he really pee in his nappy?” a girl asked his mother. She nodded with a smile. “That’s what it’s for.” “And does he do poos?” “Of course.” Shane was burning with embarrassment but could do nothing but suc-k on his dummy.
His mother brought him over to the swing and tied his reins to the frame. “Now you can watch the children playing.” She left him standing in the middle of the playground and went to sit on a bench.
The children played around Shane. A four-year old girl came up to him and asked “why are you wearing a nappy? And why are you wearing a baby dress?” Shane was unable to answer. He suc-ked on his dummy and looked at his mother. “Do you not think he looks pretty in his pink dress and frilly panties?” she asked the girl. “He looks stupid”, she replied and they all laughed. “Aw. Don’t be like that.”
Shane’s tummy rumbled and he knew that this would soon be followed by him filling his nappy with poo. With the diet she had him on, there was nothing he could do about this. Sure enough, ten seconds later he noisily produced a nappy full and several children stopped in their tracks.
Those closest to him ran away laughing when they got the smell. He looked desperately at his mother who realised the situation and came to his aid. She untied his reins saying “now you see why he needs to wear a nappy.” The children all watched as Shane walked gingerly away.
He headed for the shortest route to the main avenue but at a fork in the path his mother tugged him in the other direction. This led past the football pitches and he could see a dozen boys kicking a ball around.
He desperately did not want to go near them but resistance was not an option. “Why aren’t you skipping?” his mother asked. He glared at her and looked down at his nappy. “Oh yes. I suppose it wouldn’t be very nice”, she conceded.
As they came closer to the football pitch, he recognised some of the boys from his own class in school. He stopped in his tracks but his mother tugged him on. He followed very reluctantly with tears forming in his eyes. He was facing social death. He knew that everyone had heard about his predicament by now but it was different seeing it for themselves.
The goalkeeper was bracing himself to save a shot when he saw Shane. He straightened up and stared at the approaching spectacle. The ball whizzed past him into the net. The attacker couldn’t understand why he made no attempt to save it. But then he following his line of sight and saw why.
The boys came running over towards Shane. “Would you look at him!” “I didn’t believe it but it’s true, Shane IS in nappies.” “What a sissy!” “Look at his hair!” They surrounded him. “What a big sissy baby!”
His mother continued walking. “Sorry boys. I’m sure Shane would love to stay and watch you play but he has a stinky nappy and I need to get him home to be changed.” They roared laughing at that. A couple of them came nearer and made exaggerated sniffing movements but they were taken aback at the very real stink from Shane’s nappy.
Shane was in floods of tears as he walked away from them. How was he ever going to be able to go back to school after this? He could still hear their laughter. “That’s unbelievable. Did you see those frilly panties? And the way he just suc-ked on his dummy? He’s a complete and absolute baby.”
-
The next day he was brought down to Mr. Ramsey’s shop again. As before, he was told to skip along and he had to curtsey and show off his bloomers to anyone they met. It was worst when they met complete strangers who had not heard of Shane’s predicament.
They would stop on the pavement and stare at the approaching spectacle. He knew there was no avoiding it. Even if the strangers were too polite to say anything, his mother would stop and engage them in conversation. Inevitably, the first question would be “is she wearing a nappy?” To which his mother would proudly reply “actually, this is my fifteen-year-old son Shane and, yes, he is wearing a nappy.”
Once the strangers realised how eager his mother was to talk about his situation, they would pepper her with questions. “Does he do everything in his nappy?” they would ask, too polite to use a word like poo. “Absolutely. He hasn’t used the bathroom in more than a week.”
“Where did you get the big baby harness?” “A neighbour of mine is very good with his hands. He also made a high-chair and cot for Shane.” This would generally be met with raised eyebrows as the stranger realised how complete Shane’s new baby life was.
He would try to focus on the lollipop Mrs. Ramsey would give him when they eventually got to the shop. He tried to avoid tearing-up and sniffling as the strangers tittered and sniggered at the details of his feeding or changing routines.
At the shop Shane was duly given his treat. It also gave him a break from the dummy, which still dangled from his dress on the end of a ribbon.
Outside the shop his mother was pleased when Shane resumed skipping without having to be told. In the playground she again tied Shane’s harness to the swings and went to sit on a bench. Shane was not pleased to see she had brought a book.
She became quite absorbed in the book. After fifteen minutes or so she looked up. Shane had finished his lollipop and was absent-mindedly nursing his soother as he watched the children play.
After half an hour, one of the little girls had to come over to her to get her attention. “Shane has wet his nappy and needs to be changed.” She looked up and saw him standing in the middle of a circle of children, tears streaming down his face from the humiliation of having to signal to the children that he was wet.
As she untied his harness from the swing the little girl asked “can Shane not play with us?” His mother thought about this. “I’m afraid his baby dresses are too pretty for playing in. And he’d dirty his lovely white tights. Maybe when Mrs. Wilson is finished your new dress, she might make you a special play dress.” Shane hated to hear such long term plans being made. “I’ll ask her if she can make a nice navy sailor dress”, she said warming to the idea.
The next morning Helen was spoon-feeding him his rusks when she asked his mother if she was going to Mrs. Hunt’s dinner party. “I’d love to but I’d need to get a baby sitter.”
“Well, Marsie will be babysitting Emily for me”, Helen said. “Maybe she would agree to babysit Shane too. Emily could stay in the spare room here tonight.” “Would Marsie be prepared to change Shane if it was needed? In fact, there is no way he’ll go a whole evening without producing something and she probably wouldn’t be used to the cloth nappies.”
“I’ll ring and ask her”, Helen said. “Failing that, Marsie is one of a dozen babysitters in a group that shares out the work. I’m sure we can find one of them who will be prepared to.”
At lunchtime Helen returned. “I talked to Marsie and she has no problem looking after Shane tonight. In fact, she seemed to be quiet excited at the prospect”, she added smiling at Shane’s obvious discomfort. “Did you explain to her that she would probably have to change him?” his mother asked. “Yes, she actually said that she couldn’t wait!” “She might change her tune when she sees one of his messy nappies”, his mother said. “Won’t she?” she asked Shane as she inserted another spoonful of parsnip and prune puree into his mouth.”
“Marsie rang back after a while and asked if all twelve of the babysitters could come over and see Shane being changed this afternoon so that they would know how to handle the cloth nappies”, Helen continued. “Seeing as any of them might be called on to babysit Shane at some stage.”
“That’s a good idea”, his mother said. “Tell them around six o’clock.” As she turned to give Shane another spoonful tears were flowing down his cheeks again. She wasn’t sure if it was the prospect of being changed in front of a dozen girls from his school or the taste of the parsnip and prunes.
At around five in the afternoon she was out in the garden when she heard a cry from the play-pen inside. She peeled off her gardening gloves and went in. Shane was kneeling in the pen with his hands on the frame looking up at her. “What’s up chicken?” Then she recoiled at the smell. “Oh! Gosh that’s a bad one.”
She looked at the clock. “It’s only an hour until the babysitters are coming to see you being changed. You’ll just have to wait dear.” He gave her a desperate look. “But if I change you now love, you mightn’t produce anything for a few hours.” Shane gave a heavy sigh.
“I think we’d better move you outside though”, his mother suggested, having retreated to the door. She moved the pen to the middle of the lawn and put Shane back in it with a few dolls to keep him amused. He knelt down again. “Why don’t you sit dear?” He glared at her. “Oh. I see.”
She resumed her weeding. Every few minutes there was a whimper from the play-pen. She’d look over at him sympathetically and say “they’ll be here soon.”
At five to six the door-bell rang. He didn’t know whether to be relieved that he was finally going to be changed or despondent at the prospect of being changed in front of twelve girls.
His mother passed downwind of him as she headed inside. “Phew. This one will really test their resolve.”
-
His mother directed the girls into the utility room. When she brought Shane in the girls were all examining the nappies and creams and powders. But they all stopped dead when they saw him. He was so mortified as he was brought into the middle of the circle of girls tittering and sniggering.
Some of them composed themselves and made comments like “isn’t he adorable?”. “Those ringlets really suit him.” That was followed by snorting laughter.
Then the smell hit them. “Ew.” “Oh my Gawd!” A couple of them left the room gasping. Other waved their hands in front of their faces and tried to withstand the stink.
Shane hopped up on the changing table. He grimaced when he sat and all the poo was squished around his nappy. “Right. Will someone remove his dress?” his mother asked. None of them were too keen to get any closer. Eventually, Marcie was shoved forward and proceeded to take off his dress while making faces.
Shane lay back. “Now. Take off his shoes, panties and tights.” There was more tittering. When that was done Marcie looked at the plastic pants with great trepidation. She looked up at his mother. “Go on.” Shane raised his bottom. With arms at full stretch, Marcie tugged at the elasticated waist band. She pulled the plastic pants down.
More girls ran from the room. Marcie backed off and then inched her way forward. The others watched from outside the door. She unpinned the nappy, Shane raised his bottom and she pulled it off him. As she dropped the soiled nappy in the bucket she jumped back.
Many of the girls had to turn their backs when Marcie went to wipe Shane down. When she was done his mother took the bucket from the room and put it outside the back door.
With the major cause of the smell gone the girls inched back into the room to watch the rest of the changing routine. Shane tried to ignore their intense interest and nursed his dummy. His mother showed them how to pin the nappy on him securely. He was never so anxious to get his tights, panties and dress back on.
He hoped that the girls would be so disgusted by what they saw that they would lose interest in babysitting him but they all wanted to stay and assured his mother that there was no problem whenever she wanted a babysitter.
“He’s to get a bottle now and another one before he goes to bed”, his mother told them. “Please can I feed him?” a girl piped up immediately followed by several “no, me!”
His mother put her coat on. She came over to Shane who was in his high-chair s...ing on a bottle being held up by Jane. “Now you are to be a good little baby girl and do whatever the girls tell you.” The girls smiled at each other.
“He has to do what he is told or he doesn’t get his nappy changed”, his mother explained helpfully. Shane spent the rest of the evening curtseying, skipping back and forth across the room, posing angelically for photographs or sitting in his play-pen kissing and hugging his dollies.
The girls all sat around as Heidi read him his bed time story. He was so relieved when they turned on the tape and baby monitor and finally switched out the light.
===
The next morning the phone rang just after his mother had started feeding him his rusks. She put the bowl and spoon down on the tray in front of him. He made a cross face at this interruption to his feeding. “I’ll only be a mo”, she assured him. “Here.” She popped his soother in.
She was a couple of minutes on the phone. Shane was left staring at his bowl of rusks and wishing he could pick up the spoon. “That was Mrs. Wilson. She has finished your new dress! She’s bringing it over later. Isn’t that exciting?” Shane feigned a smile.
His mother picked up the kettle and went to fill it. She seemed to have forgotten about feeding him. “Mmmmm” he grunted and he wriggled about in the high-chair to show his frustration. She looked over. “Oh sorry!” She put down the kettle and came over to him smiling. “Sorry about that love.” She removed his dummy, picked up the bowl and spoon and resumed feeding him. “There we go.”
“Now remember when she shows us your new baby dress, you are to be all excited, do you hear?” Shane gave her a very slightly wistful look – it was as much as he dared. “She’s gone to a lot of trouble making you a pretty dress so you are to appreciate it do you hear?” He nodded unenthusiastically.
“Now let me see how excited you are to see your new pretty baby dress.” Shane smiled and bopped up and down in his high-chair. “That’s a good baby. And there’ll be gorgeous frilly panties to match, isn’t that great?” He clapped his mittens excitedly. “We might even get you a lovely ice cream in Mr. Ramsey’s shop later if you are very good.” He didn’t have to fake his excitement at that.
He was sitting in the play-pen when Mrs. Wilson arrived. The women came into the front room and sat near the pen. “Mrs. Wilson has brought your new dress”, his mother said. Shane tried to look excited.
Mrs. Wilson reached into the bag and pulled out the dress with a flourish. She held the yellow dress up in front of them. Shane’s mother clapped and said “Oh my goodness. Isn’t that just wonderful?” Shane went “mmmm, mmmm” and bopped up and down in his pen.
Mrs. Wilson tugged at the puffed sleeves and then ran her hand along under the Peter Pen collar. Shane got up on his knees and leaned on the side of the pen pretending to be enthralled by the baby dress. “Look at those little pink bows”, his mother gushed picking at one of them.
Mrs. Wilson pulled up the organza petticoats and ran her fingers through their fullness. “Do you want to try in on now?” she asked Shane. He nodded enthusiastically. “Mmmm. Mmmm.” The women smiled and his mother opened the pen. She took off his blue dress, bonnet and bloomers.
Mrs. Wilson pulled the yellow dress over his head and zipped him in. She fussed over the petticoats to get them settled correctly. They were so enormous that Shane had to hold his arms out. He tentatively let his arms down and found that the volume of the petticoats meant he could rest them on his skirts.
Then Mrs. Wilson took the pettipants from the bag. “My goodness. They’re enormous”, his mother said. “I know. It took yards and yards of lace. There are about twenty rows from the waist down to the leg openings. Shane wanted to cry but tried to keep his smile fixed.
He stepped into the pettipants and his mother pulled them up. Mrs. Wilson held his petticoats up while he could feel his mother picking at the lace on the seat of his pants. “This must have taken you ages.”
Shane looked down but could see nothing beyond his voluminous dress. Mrs. Wilson took the broderie anglaise mop cap and sat it on top of his head. His mother ran her fingers through his sausage curls.
“You must see yourself in the mirror”, she told him. He was dreading it as she tugged him out to the hallway where there was a full length mirror. He wanted to throw up but he jumped up and down in excitement. That made him a mass of dancing ringlets, fluttering organza petticoat and shimmering lace.
He curtsied. Normally he would raise out his skirts and petticoats when he curtsied but in this case they could not be raised out any further. He turned around and twisted to see the reflection of the back of his dress. He was about to bend over to expose his panties to full inspection as usual when he realised there was really no need. Only the top couple of rows of lace were covered by his dress anyway – the other eighteen were fully visible.
His mother brought him back into the front room. “We’ll have to take the dress off now and keep it for special occasions”, she told him in a sad voice. He looked up at her plaintively and looked down at his new baby dress longingly. “I know you want to keep it on but, I’ll tell you what, I’ll invite all the neighbours over tomorrow for a coffee morning and all the babysitters and we can show it off to everyone then. How’s that.” Shane pretending to be somewhat consoled by that and his mother set about removing his new outfit.
-
The next morning Shane’s mother reset his sausage curls to have him looking his best. Despite the fact that he had already been displayed in front of just about everyone in town, he was not looking forward to being paraded in front of all the neighbours in the sissiest baby dress he had ever seen.
His mother put a little blush on his cheeks. Then she took his new dress and ruffled the organza petticoats so that they stood out as much as possible. She put the dress on him and zipped him up. She took a brand new pair of snow white tights from a packet. She rolled the tights up and put his feet into them. Then she pulled them up over his nappy.
She flapped out the pettipants, still marvelling at how enormous they looked with all that thick lace. She pulled the pettipants up over his tights and nappy. She also had a new pair of ankle socks with yellow lace at the tops. “Look, there are little rose buds on the front and back of the socks”, she showed him. Then she put on his t-bar shoes.
She sat the mop cap on his head. Then she took out a dozen little pink bows and attached one to the end of each of his sausage curls. She told him to skip across the room and was delighted with the way the bows swayed back and forth with his curls. Finally she attached his soother to his dress and pushed it into his mouth.
She looked at her watch. It was still half-an-hour before guests were to arrive. “I’m afraid to let you sit down in case you crease your dress. You look just perfect now and I want you that way when you make your big entrance.” The thought of walking into a room full of people dressed as he was nearly made him wet himself.
She took his harness and strapped him in. She pulled him across to the window. Then she stood on a chair and tied the reins to the curtain rail. “Now you just stay there while I get ready”, she told him. The reins were at full stretch and ensured that he had to stay standing. At least the net curtains protected him from being seen from outside.
Forced to just stand there in his baby dress he couldn’t get his mind off the impending humiliation. He looked down at the dress and the huge skirts. The bows on his sausage curls danced at the edge of his vision when he looked down.
He looked around the room trying to find some distraction but instead saw his reflection in the wardrobe mirror. He couldn’t take his eyes off the lines of frilly lace surrounding the huge bulge of his nappy. Tears came to his eyes as he thought of the reaction of all the neighbours to his appearance. All those babysitters would just love it. He badly needed to do a wee.
The doorbell rang. He jumped a little. He heard his mother open it and it sounded like about a dozen women came in, all giggling with excited anticipation. “Where is the little darling?” “I’m waiting until everyone is here so that he can make a grand entrance”, his mother said.
Shane looked down in horror. Warm pee was spreading around his nappy. He didn’t remember deciding to pee. Tears streamed down his cheeks.
The babysitters arrived en masse before his mother came up to get him. His blush had been streaked by his tears. “Oh now, what’s wrong?” What’s wrong! He was about to be displayed to half the town in a big sissy baby dress and frilly panties!
She dried his cheeks and renewed the blush. He sniffled and pointed to his nappy. “What? You’re wet?” He nodded. “Well you’ll just have to stew in it. It took me ages to get you to look just perfect, I’m not going to risk upsetting it now.” Shane sniffled again at the thought of having to walk in there with a soggy nappy.
“Now I don’t want you going in there with a big puss on you”, his mother scolded while untying his harness. “Do you hear?” He nodded glumly. “You are to skip into the middle of the room and twirl as if you have never been so happy.” That nearly made him cry but he recomposed himself. “You’re in for a pretty miserable week if you don’t convince them all that you are delighted to be a big sissy baby.”
She handed him the biggest doll he possessed. The doll had a big full length ballgown. Shane wished he could wear that instead of the ultra short dress that didn’t even cover his nappy.
His mother took him by the arms and led him downstairs, taking her time at the stairs to allow him to safely descend one step at a time. He tried to be brave despite the unavoidable mortification that awaited him just inside the door at the bottom.
She paused before opening the door. She looked at him. “You know what you have to do.” Shane nodded. She threw the door open. Shane took a deep breath and skipped right into the centre of the room.
He curtsied to delighted clapping and twirled about, petticoats whirling around him, revealing his pettipants from top to bottom. The bows on his sausage curls caused them to swing in a perfect arc around his head.
There were gasps from the surrounding women and girls, induced as much by the boy’s apparent delight at being dressed in such a babyish outfit as by the dress itself. “I’ve never seen so much frilly lace in my life”, someone commented. Mrs. Wilson sat proudly absorbing all the compliments.
“That must have taken you so much time”, Mrs. Hall commented. Mrs. Wilson came over to Shane and made him bend over so that she could describe to the enthralled ladies how she had made the frilly panties. From his bent over position he looked up and saw the satisfied smiles on the faces of the babysitters as they relished his humiliation.
When he was allowed to stand upright again, his mother called for another twirl. This time Shane could feel some pee, that had not been absorbed by his nappy, slosh around in the bottom of the plastic pants. He cringed, pressing his knees together.
“What’s wrong?” a lady asked. “He wet his nappy just before he came down”, his mother told them all. “He looked so perfect I didn’t want to disturb a thing. I suppose I’d better change him now.”
Shane cringed even more pathetically when his mother told them all about his predicament. As she took him towards the utility room he heard one of the babysitters say “oh, you’ve got to see this.”
He tried to focus on the ceiling as he lay back being changed. He looked down between his spread legs at one point and saw people standing on tippy toes in the corridor trying to see over the crowd in the door. He directed his gaze back at the ceiling and tried to concentrate on nursing his soother. The women standing at his head saw it bob in and out a few times and they chuckled.
-
The day after the coffee morning to show off Shane’s new baby dress he sat in his play pen wondering how he was ever going to have a normal life in the town after all this. Even if he was freed from his torment now (and this seemed unlikely since his mother had just ordered his next dress from Mrs. Wilson) he was certain that he would forever be known as a big sissy baby. Did the neighbours really think he loved his pretty dresses and frilly panties or were they aware that he was forced into this humiliation?
Anyway, his mother was telephoned by Mrs. Hunt to come over to her garden to see some new plants. Shane was strapped into his harness and they headed across the road. He was relieved to see that there was nobody on the road but as they crossed, a lady appeared and his mother stopped to talk to her.
Shane curtsied and showed off his frilly panties for inspection as usual but had to wait anxiously while the women chatted. He tried to ignore the talk about his nappies and baby dresses and scanned the road for anyone else approaching.
A group of boys appeared from a front garden, obviously heading down to the park to play football. Shane moved towards Mrs. Hall’s house and when his reins were fully extended his mother felt the tug. “Don’t be rude, dear. We’re talking.”
So Shane had to stand there while the boys passed on the other side of the road. They exchanged muttered comments and sniggered. Before they went off, one of them turned and made a mock-curtsey towards Shane. Another one bent over and shook his bootie.
Finally, his mother took him into Mrs. Hall’s. Her eight year old daughter Judy was there. “You mind Shane, Judy, while we’re in the garden.” His mother made him sit in the middle of the floor. He plonked down, used by now to the substantial cushioning effect of the thick nappy. The women went out to the garden.
Judy looked down at Shane with a disdainful smirk. “What a big baby!” she said. Shane glared at her but had no intention of reacting and getting into trouble. “What a sissy dress! Let me see your frilly panties.” Shane rolled over on his hands and knees and displayed his panties as instructed. Judy laughed and he felt her tug at the lace on his panties.
Shane rolled onto his bottom again. “I heard your mummy’s going to keep you in nappies and baby dresses forever”, she sneered. Shane frowned. Did she know something he didn’t? “You’re going to be a little sissy baby girl in frilly dresses and nappies forever and ever. You’ll never use a toilet again. You’ll always have to wear tights and bonnets and be spoon-fed for ever more.”
He wasn’t sure if she was right but the possibility had been haunting him. He started to cry and that only encouraged her. “Oh boo hoo! What a sissy! You deserve to be kept in nappies forever. I hope she does keep you as a baby because that’s all you are.”
Shane noted the word “hope” which suggested that she wasn’t sure about his fate. But he was still in floods of tears when his mother came in. “What’s wrong pet?” she enquired. “I asked him to show his frilly panties but he won’t”, Judy claimed. “Now Shane, you know you are to do whatever Judy tells you to”, his mother scolded him.
Shane was fuming at the girl’s lie but he was in no position to argue. Again he rolled over and showed his frilly panties. “Can I bring him down to the park?” Judy asked. “Certainly”, his mother replied. “The fresh air will do him good but he’s not to play on anything that will get his dress or tights dirty. Shane? Are you going to be good for Judy and do everything she says?” Shane nodded glumly.
Judy picked up his reins and yanked him along. Shane waddled towards the door giving one despairing look back at his mother before she pulled him outside.
After an hour the women decided to go down to the park themselves. When passing the football pitch they noticed that Shane was standing beside the goalposts. The other boys were playing football while throwing the odd comment in his direction.
“Careful you don’t get your frock dirty.” “He’s always suc-king on that dummy – he obviously loves it.” Shane had discretely removed his dummy as Judy brought him by the football pitch but she noticed and instructed him to continue nursing it.
As the women got closer they wondered why Shane was hanging around the boys that were taunting him but then they saw that Judy had tied Shane’s reins to the goalpost. She was off playing on the swings.
Later that day when Shane was returned to the comfort of his play-pen, his sister Helen asked his mother what were her plans. “Do you intend keeping him in nappies much longer?” she asked. His mother down looked at him and thought about it. “I suppose I’ll have to decide soon whether or not to keep him like this. School will be restarting soon.” Shane looked up very anxiously. He was going to have to be on his best behaviour.
-
Shane was a little angel for the next few days. He was determined not to give his mother any excuse to punish him by keeping him in nappies and baby dresses any longer. He took all his feedings and bottles with good grace. He ignored all taunts and happily skipped along when out in public, curtseying to all passers by. It was horrific for him really but he gritted his teeth (or would have if it wasn’t for the dummy wedged in his mouth all the time).
On Saturday morning his mother went to answer the door. It was Helen and Emily. As she returned to the kitchen she heard a whimper from the high-chair. “What’s wrong dear?” Shane pointed to the floor. “Oh did you drop your dolly? Emily, will you give Shane his dolly before he starts to cry.” Emily picked up the doll and handed it to him. He pretended to be consoled.
His mother turned towards Helen. “I asked you over because I’ve made a decision.” Shane froze. “I’ve decided that Shane has been such a really good baby girl over the last couple of weeks.” At last, he thought, he had finally earned release from this torment. “He’s been such a good baby girl that I’ve decided to keep him this way.”
“Brilliant!” Helen squealed. Emily jumped up and down and clapped her hands. Shane was dumbstruck. “I couldn’t possibly let him go back to being a naughty boy so he’ll be staying in nappies and baby dresses since he seems so much happier as a baby girl.”
Shane spat out the soother. “No! I’m not happy at all! I was just trying to be good so that you would let me go.” “Oh dear”, his mother said. “Still a bit of the naughty boy left in you. This is precisely why we’ll have to keep you as a baby girl.”
“But it’s not fair”, he protested. “If I’m good as a baby girl, you want to keep me this way and if I’m bold, you want to keep me this way as a punishment. I can’t wi….mmmm.” His mother pushed his soother back in. “Life’s a bitch, isn’t it.” They all laughed.
He spat the soother out again. “You can’t do this!” Helen stepped forward calmly and reinserted his soother. “Now tell me this.” Shane glared at her. She took his hands and held them up. “Do you agree that you are helpless as long as your hands are in these mittens?” Shane nodded. “You can’t feed yourself?” She waited. He nodded again.
“You can’t take your nappies off or your sweet baby dresses. You can’t get out of your high-chair or play-pen or cot if we don’t want you to.” He nodded again slowly. “If we tell you to, you have to show off your panties and curtsey and skip and kiss your dollies.” His nod was barely perceptible this time. He sniffled.
“Do you accept that you are totally helpless and have to do everything we tell you?” Tears were coming to his eyes. She wasn’t going to proceed until he nodded again, so he did. “Do you accept, then, that if we decide that you are to remain in nappies and baby dresses, there isn’t a damn thing you can do about it?” Tears were rolling down his cheeks now. Helen turned to his mother. “Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind.”
His mother stepped forward, swung the tray back and unstrapped him from the high-chair. “Now the first thing we need to do is to get rid of your boy’s clothes.” “Mmmm?” “Well you won’t require them any more. They might as well go to a deserving cause.”
Shane fell to his knees, pressed his hands together and looked up at her pleadingly. “Mmmmm.” “Don’t be silly. Get up. It’s decided. Nothing is going to change my mind”, she said firmly.
She pulled him to his feet and brought him up to his room. Helen carried a couple of black bin bags. His mother opened his wardrobe. On the left side hung his other baby dresses, on the right his trousers. She removed the hangars from which his trousers hung and draped them over his arm. Helen held out the bag with a wicked smile. “Go on. Put them in the bag.”
He was crying again and couldn’t bring himself to throw out his trousers. He rubbed a damp eye with his free mitten. Helen rustled the bag impatiently. Eventually he dropped the trousers into the bag and started sobbing uncontrollably. Helen shook the bag so that they dropped to the bottom.
His mother handed him a pile of shirts. He dropped them into the bag, then his sweaters. There was nothing left hanging in the wardrobe now but his baby dresses.
They brought him to the chest of drawers. Emily held out another bag. He gathered his boxer shorts, rolled up socks and tee-shirts and dropped them into the bag. Emily tittered. His mother could now spread out the remaining contents of the drawers – his frilly panties, pairs of tights, bonnets and such. He sobbed again as Helen and Emily took the bags from the room and left him with nothing but his baby clothes.
When they returned, his mother had put him in the cot. He knelt and leant on the side bars as he watched her go through the other things in the room. “Would Emily like to take his computer?” “Oh yes please!” Emily replied excitedly. “Mmmmm!” Shane said from the cot.
“But dear, you won’t be able to use the computer anymore or a lot of these other games”, his mother told him. “The least you can do is let Emily have them.” Shane glared at his niece.
“Don’t worry”, Helen reassured him, “we still have lots of Emily’s old toys from when she was a baby. They will be more suitable for you now.” Tears streamed down Shane’s face as they gathered up his favourite games and removed his football posters.
He whined through his dummy because he actually had a wet nappy now but they thought he was just continuing to complain about losing his boy’s stuff and they ignored him. Eventually, he had to deliberately do a noisy poo and it was only then they realised that he needed changing.
Later they brought him over to Helen’s house. She took out a couple of chests full of old toys, many still in their boxes. “Now, only toys for 3 years old or less”, she told the others. Shane watched as they rummaged. Emily took out a box of Lego. “No dear, that is too grown up for Shane. Here is a box of bigger simpler blocks. Yes, this says two years plus.” Shane returned to his house with arms full of baby toys.
That night he lay in his cot staring at the two baby dresses in the otherwise empty wardrobe. His worst fears had come true. This was his future now - nappies and sissy clothes. He had nothing else to wear even if he managed to get the mittens off sometime.
-
On Monday morning Shane was sitting in his play-pen in the front room. He burped again from his bottle of warm milk. He looked up as he heard chattering outside on the road. The din increased and he could hear children calling up and down the road at each other.
Then he remembered. It was the first day back at school. He recalled how, in previous years, he hated going back after the summer holidays. He would give anything now to be able to go back to school.
Some of the voices came closer. He looked up at the window with concern. Then a few faces appeared and looked in at him. “Yes! Shane is still being kept as a baby”, one of them called out. “I told you!” another said, “his mother is keeping him in nappies. She’s given away all his boys clothes and all he has to wear now are baby dresses and frilly panties.” They all laughed as they peered in at the boy looking miserable in his play-pen.
“I heard he can’t help but wet and poop himself and he needs to wear nappies now anyway”, a girl said. Shane frowned indignantly at this lie. But then he realised that he did poop himself uncontrollably because of the diet his mother had him on. He started crying again.
“Oh look, the big baby is going to go boo-hoo.” More children gathered at the window. “Look! Shane is still in nappies and baby dresses. He’s not coming back to school, ever!”
Eventually the children had to tear themselves away or they would be late for school. When his mother came into the room the tear stains were still evident and he was nursing the dummy particularly vigorously and holding his dolly tightly.
Later she showed him some photos a neighbour had given her. They were of Shane at the fancy dress party. “Oh look. That was your first day back in nappies. Little did you know you were going to stay that way.”
The best photos had been enlarged. She went over to the mantle piece where there were two treasured photos of Shane taken when he was about eight and twelve. She took those photos out of the frames and replaced them with the photos of him in his pink baby dress. She re-placed the frames in their pride of place on the mantle piece. She walked out to the kitchen holding the two old photos. Shane heard the lid of the bin snap shut.
She came back and went to the book shelves. She took out the family photo album. Shane watched as she went through page by page removing all the photos of him. In the empty pages at the back she put in all the new photos sent to her by the neighbour. She showed each one to Shane before she put it in the album.
She replaced the album on the shelf, came back and picked up the pile of old photos. She tore them into little pieces as she headed for the kitchen.
Shane looked at the photos on the mantle piece. He looked around the room. His action-movies and football DVDs were gone. There was a blank space on the bottom shelf where his comics used to be. There wasn’t a single reminder of his former life in the room.
He thought of his bedroom. His clothes were all gone. His computer and games were all gone. His bed was gone. His football posters had been thrown out. Instead there was the cot, his dolls and baby toys.
In the afternoon, his mother was reading him a fairy tale when the phone rang. She answered it. “Hello Mr. Biggs.” It was the head master from the school. “Yes, that’s correct. I told Mrs. Philips that Shane would not be returning to school. He’ll be staying here at home with me. He’s here in his play-pen now.” Shane could just about hear Mr. Biggs’ voice but couldn’t make anything out. “Oh you are quite happy for him to be off your hands? I know! He has been a bit of a devil hasn’t he?” Shane thought this was grossly unfair.
“Well, as you know he’s a sweet little baby girl now so we won’t be having any more trouble from him.” Mr. Biggs spoke again. “Yes, we could do that. I’d be delighted. Tomorrow? No problem. Good-bye.” His mother put down the phone.
“Mr. Biggs has asked me to bring you down to the school tomorrow to show you off to all the classes”, she said with great excitement. Shane was dumbstruck. Surely she wouldn’t. “We’ll have to get those sausage curls pressed again tomorrow”, she said airily as she headed for the kitchen. Shane wanted to die. Then he realised that he had wet himself.
The next morning she threw open the curtains in his room. Shane rubbed his sleepy eyes with his mittens. He had half-woken briefly an hour earlier, wet himself and drifted back to sleep. Now his nappy was all cold and he was cross.
He got up on his knees and held the side of the cot. His mother stood before him bright and cheerful. “Now do you want to wear your pink dress or your yellow one to school?” He just wanted to be changed. He pointed at his nappy. “I’ll get you changed just as soon as you decide which dress you want to wear.”
Shane sighed. Pink was obviously the sissiest colour but if he wore the yellow dress she would almost certainly put him in the huge frilly pettipants. Then he thought of the pink tights and pointed at the yellow dress. “Yes. You’re right. This one is lovely and short and really shows off your frilly panties. Damn, he thought.
-
He stood in front of the mirror as his mother fussed over his outfit. She ran her fingers through his freshly pressed sausage curls. She fluffed his organza petticoats until they stood out just right. She spent a long time tugging at the lace on his pettipants so that each row was perfectly straight. She noticed that the pattern of pink roses down the side of his white tights was slightly out of line so she twisted the tights until they were perfect.
As she tightened his harness he prepared himself as best he could for the coming ultimate humiliation. He was about to be paraded in front of all his school friends dressed as the sissiest baby girl any of them would ever have seen. It was inevitable that his mother would insist that he flounce about and pretend to be delighted with his new life.
He wondered had she forgotten about his dummy. It was sitting on the tray of his high-chair. Would he be spared that at least? She straightened the bows on his dress. Then she looked thoughtful. She smiled when she saw the dummy. “That would have been a disaster if we forgot your dummy”, she teased. She pinned it to his dress. His lower lip quivered as she held the dummy up to his mouth. “Come on. Be brave. No tears now.” He fought them back but failed. She pushed the dummy in. “You might as well be brave – you don’t have any choice.” And with that she tugged his rein and he waddled towards the front door clutching his dolly.
As they approached the school he saw that all the children were already in the classrooms. He scanned the windows as they went up the steps but nobody was looking out. “Shall we go to your own class first?” she asked him. He cringed, realising that she was going to bring him into every classroom in the school. “Well?” He shrugged. He was facing social death. He didn’t much care about the method of execution.
“Now I hope that you’re going to show them all how happy you are to be a baby girl in nappies and pretty dresses and panties.” He gave her a pleading look. “Otherwise your life is going to be pretty miserable for the next few weeks.” How could it be any worse?
She made a few adjustments to his dress. “Ready?” He felt that familiar warmth spread around his nappy. Oh no! Not now! He cringed. “OK. Here we go.” She opened the door and tugged the reins. His nappy was rapidly filling with the longest pee he had ever done. He couldn’t skip into the class while that was happening so he waddled in with a pained expression.
The class exploded into laughter. Mrs. Philips put down her chalk and smiled. She made no attempt to bring the class to order. Shane’s mother frowned disapprovingly at his pained expression. Shane realised that, on top of everything, he was probably in for a week of boiled parsnip and stewed prunes. His nappy continued to fill.
His mother made him curtsey and bend over but could do nothing about his miserable expression. Mrs. Philips kept asking his mother questions for the benefit of the class. “Does he really do everything in his nappies?” “Has he only got baby dresses to wear now.” “Where did you get those enormous frilly panties?”
When she seemed to have exhausted the questions, Shane prayed to be taken from the class. But he remembered that there was another dozen to go and he ceased to be in such a hurry.
Then Mrs. Philips had a thought. “You know, I’d say most of the children here have never seen an old-fashioned cloth nappy before.” “You’re probably right”, his mother said as she knelt beside him.
Tears flooded down Shane’s face as she pulled his panties down around his ankles. He cried so hard as his tights were pulled down that he shuddered. “Oh dear, he’s actually wet!” his mother observed. His plastic pants bulged with the weight of urine. Shane nearly bit off his soother he was suc-king so hard and almost broke his dolly in two he was hugging her so tightly.
The children all roared laughing and many pushed closer to get a better look. Soon they surrounded him in a circle.
“It’s just as well I brought his changing bag”, his mother said. “Is there somewhere we can go?” Mrs. Philips suggested the nurse’s station but she broke off on hearing a dribbling noise. “Oh dear, he seems to be leaking.”
She looked around desperately for something to put under him. Shane figured that this was a low as he could go. He was standing in the middle of all his school friends in a leaking nappy, wearing a huge frilly baby dress with his panties and tights around his ankles.
His mother grabbed some newspapers, spread them on the floor and made him stand over them. The children were in hysterics, many cringing as they watched the urine dribble out. Shane’s mother was now more concerned with saving his beautiful dress and pulled it over his head. She went to put it on a chair and nearly pulled out his teeth because he was still suc-king hard on the dummy that was attached to the dress.
She coaxed the soother from his mouth. His tights and panties were already wet. She made him sit down carefully and then told him to lie back so that the upper part of the nappy would absorb more of the urine. She pressed around his plastic pants trying to coax as much of the liquid into the cloth nappy as possible.
She fetched the changing bag. “Right we’ll have you out of that wet nappy in a jiffy”, his mother said cheerily. Shane looked up at the circle of grinning faces looking down on him as she pulled down his plastic pants and gingerly unpinned his nappy.
-
Shane had his nappy changed in front of the whole class. They laughed at the way he lifted and lowered his bottom and turned over without a word from his mother, obviously extremely familiar with the routine by now. He just wanted to be changed as quickly as possible.
He was refitted out in his dress and his mother had even brought a spare pair of tights for him to replace the wet pair. She told the class that they were all welcome to visit him at home anytime. “Now, come along to the next classroom dear.” Shane sighed. There was only one down and another dozen to go.
By the time his mother led him out of the school he was a sniffling wreck. He’d been humiliated in front of about 300 children many of them years younger than him. His life was over. He would never be able to return to school.
Up to now, no matter how hopeless his situation was, he always hoped that he would be freed from his baby life. Now, safely back in his play-pen, he had lost all hope. He might as well accept his fate. He no longer even wanted to be freed because he could never face the public again with any shred of dignity.
He curled up in the play-pen and hugged his dolly. When his mother brought his bottle, he accepted it without emotion. As he suc-ked on the milk he began to feel comforted by its cosy warmth.
He tried to see the positive side of everything. He no longer needed to worry about his toilet. He could simply wet or soil himself whenever he felt like it. He was perfectly safe at all times, confined to his play-pen, cot or securely strapped into his high-chair. He basically had no worries whatsoever. He could just play with his toys and dollies, be fed and changed and try to forget that he should be a teenage boy out playing football and teasing girls.
He could be almost totally content if it wasn’t for his daily outings in public to the shops and playground. He learned to ignore the taunts about his nappies, frilly panties and baby dresses. He just skipped along as required without showing any emotion, focussing on looking forward to being back in the security of his play-pen with his cuddly toys.
Often it was hard not to cry at the taunts or at his permanently babified status but he hoped that if he concealed his embarrassment, they would eventually get tired and leave him alone.
Unfortunately for him, this never happened. His niece Emily, in particular, was delighted with her baby uncle and brought a never-ending succession of friends over to see him, forcing him to perform like the perfect sissy baby. They were always astounded at his sausage curls, frilly dresses and huge nappy and at the way he was totally resigned to his fate to be treated totally like a baby.
Gradually he lost all control over his toilet. He would find himself wet without remembering when he had peed. Frequently he would wake from a nap already wet. He became dependent on his soother. As soon as Emily realised this, she made a point of taking it from him when she was showing him off to her friends. They loved the way Shane cried and reached out for his dummy. Eventually Emily would return it to him and he would jam it into his mouth and nurse it rapidly as if to make up for lost time.
As soon as Mrs. Wilson was finished his sailor dress they were designing his next outfit. Emily had lots of ideas for adding more frills and bits and bobs which surprised her mother since she had never shown any interest in girly clothes before.
His mother found a big baby blue romper suit in a fancy dress store and brought it home to see how he looked in it. Shane was thrilled to be wearing something that wasn’t a dress for once. Even though the bulge around his bottom was obvious and stretched the romper to its limit, he still felt a little less sissy in it.
Emily didn’t like it at all though. “Do you want him back in his baby dresses?” her mother asked. Emily nodded firmly. She fetched his yellow dress from the wardrobe and held it out for his mother. Much to his disappointment she unzipped the romper and that was the last time Shane ever got to wear anything other than a pretty baby dress.
[This is definitely the end of this story. Many thanks and hugs and kisses for all the compliments and encouragement. I don't reply to each one because it would clog up the system but I do appreciate it.
I have a scenario for the next story that will require a bit of planning so please be patient. Dara xxxxx]