About a week later when he arrived at the nursery Mrs Lawson was there.  “Look, we’ve made a walker for you!”  Joe glared at his latest accessory as she opened the side to let him in.  He was helped from his stroller into the walker.  The suspended seat in the middle held him at a height where his toes could just about touch the ground.  Mrs Lawson drew the straps around his waist and secured him into it.  She closed the side of it.

“You should be able to push yourself around in it”, she explained.  They were all staring at him expectantly so he pushed as best he could with his toes and the walker moved a few inches on its wheels.  “There you go!”  His mother was clearly pleased.

He tried again and got a few more inches.  “See, you just need lots of practice.”  “We’ll keep him in it until lunchtime”, Aly assured her.  “Look there’s bells and rattles all around you there”, his mother demonstrated.  She flicked the lever on a bell and it dinged.  Joe pawed at it with his mittens and with some difficulty got it to ring.  They all clapped as if this had been a great achievement for him.  “Look there’s a horn!”  He managed to squeeze the rubber balloon on the end between his mittens and it honked.  The babies all laughed.

“Thanks so much for everything you are doing for him”, his mother thanked Mrs Lawson.  “You’re welcome.  It’s been great having someone to test these all out.  The next thing we need to figure out is if we can give a one or two year warranty.”  “Well his play-pen, cot and high-chair all look as good as the day you brought them.  He’s never been able to get out of any of them and it’s not for want of trying!”  They all smiled.  “But it will be interesting to see how they are after two years of use.”  Joe suc-ked hard on his soother.

His mother went off to work as he was left to practice in his walker.  He reckoned if they just lowered his seat a little he could get better purchase.  Communicating that through his soother was not easy though.  “Nnnggghhh!”  “Yes dear?”  He waggled his bottom in the seat and tried to demonstrate that it needed adjusting.  Aly just looked puzzled.  He spat the soother out and was about to speak but she took it and re-inserted it firmly “Now, now!”  Joe just had to be satisfied with the set up and eventually managed to move a little more easily.  “See!  I told you that you would get better with practice.”

One day they were told that little Jean was old enough now to move to the creche, this was going to be her last day.  They had got a cake for the occasion.  Joe was let out of his walker and crawled towards the little table.  He turned and sat on his thickly nappied bottom, his legs in his cerise tights pushed wide apart by his double-thickness cloth nappy.  He smoothed his petticoats down and looked up cutely through the frills on his bonnet and Aly went to get his big plastic bib.  She secured it around his neck and made sure it protected his pretty dress.  She took a spoon and scooped up some of the cake.  She carefully held it in front of his mouth and he leaned forward and took as much as he could in his mouth.  Some crumbs and cream stuck around his mouth and some dropped on his bib.  Aly scraped the crumb and cream from around his mouth and inserted the spoon again.

“Will Baby Joe be going to the creche again?” Jean asked.  “I don’t think so”, Aly smiled, “he’s better suited to here.  He’s our permanent one-year-old!” she giggled.  Joe looked sad.  “Oh now, you don’t want those toddlers teasing you again, do you?”  He had to agree he didn’t.  One of the baby boys crawled over to him and handed him a rattle to cheer him up.  Joe sighed but took the rattle and shook it.  They all smiled.  “See, this is the right place for you.”

Chapter 4

Andy felt his popper pants being opened and his dry nappy being unpinned. His personal parts were pulled first one way, then another as the clippers removed his scant growth of hair. He continued to suc-k on the bottle propped on a pillow and with each suc-k he became less able to move, less able to direct his thoughts. “It’s so sweet” he thought he heard “this definitely belongs in a nappy for doing wetties because it certainly is useless for satisfying a woman”. There was a tinkling laugh that made him feel sad and humiliated. His wet bib was removed.

The restraints were removed, his bottle hissed and gurgled as the last of the liquid was suc-ked through the nipple. His dummy was reinserted and again old reflexes took over. Olivia shaved him from head to toe, he was pulled and shunted this way and that, tossed and turned, with foul smelling cream being applied all over his newly shaved areas. It stung.

Olivia pulled him out of bed and onto his feet. Now was his time to escape, but he could barely stand and he leant heavily on his captor, his head lolling, his legs uncoordinated like a bad drunk. He was thrust into a shower room where Olivia propped him up against the wall. A huge shower head dropped a storm of water over them both. Olivia soaped and washed him with a huge soft sponge holding him tight and close. Andy was in his head sheltering from the storm beneath a large tree with Olivia, his head fell on her breast and he spat out his dummy and latched on. He groped and fondled her clumsily, but in his dreamy stupor he was a sexy stud. Olivia put her hand on his sissy stick but it was not responsive, the drugs had rendered him impotent. He suc-ked as she turned her attention to her own pleasure centres.

She wrapped him in a large fluffy towel and patted him dry. Andy dreamed he was a little toddler being cared for by his mummy. His legs almost buckled but Olivia kept heaving him straight. His mummy guided him into his nursery and he fell in to his pink cot. He could no longer distinguish between what was real and what was in his dream.

Heavy creams were applied, baby powder fell like snow all over him. Thick fluffy nappies were secured and enclosed in soft vinyl baby pants. He was put in a vest that fastened beneath his legs forcing his nappy tight into his bottom. A pink bonnet made of softest wool, trimmed with ribbons was put on his bald head and tied beneath his chin. A pink bib edged in lace was carefully tied around his neck. Soft mittens were put over his hands and booties on his feet. He was a confection in pink. In his dream he was given his comforter, a soft freshly laundered nappy that he held to the side of his face as he suc-ked on his dummy. He  waggled his arms and wiggled his legs as his mummy tickled his tummy and snuggled his nappies. He looked for his beloved teddy bear but the soft face that stared back at him was not his beloved Patchy, this was wrong. Where was he?

Suddenly, a feeling of total dread washed over him as the drugs coursing through his veins reached their peak. He felt so insecure, he feared falling out of his cot, as it was a long drop with the side railing down. He scooted back on his bottom to be close to the wall, he felt nauseous and he began to salivate heavily a sign that he would be very sick in a short space of time. Jingling bells, he heard jingling bells. Olivia had a set of pink leather reins and was fitting them round his chest. He heard a click to his right and then another to his left as he was secured to the D-rings on his harness by connecting to tethers attached to the base of the cot. He tried to get to his knees but he was completely restrained. The cot side slid up with a whoosh and he heard the reassuring sound as the two catches snapped into place. He felt totally safe again and he lay back as his dream state continued.

A carousel of little animals circled above, in time to the tinkling of a music box, a flying penguin, a soaring giraffe and an airborne piggy made him giggle behind his dummy. A line of brightly coloured balls stretched from one side of his cot to the other and he tried to kick them with his feet. He caught one with his hand and it twanged on the elastic making a large noise. He did it again and could not resist making a satisfying gurgle.

A large soft blanket was pulled over him and tucked in tightly, curtains were pulled and the room became dim. Andy soaked up his dream, reliving memories that had been dormant for thirty years. Wonderful times when he had been the centre of his mummy’s universe. Free of stress, everything done for him, no need to worry about money, bills, or the competition to climb the corporate ladder. No need to worry about finding a toilet, it was fine to wet the bed, it was perfectly acceptable to crawl along and drop a big poo in the back of your nappy, because you were a baby. You were always protected, always being cleaned and perfumed, always swaddled in love and softness. Sitting in a wet and filthy nappy was not so bad, but being changed in to a warm, soft nappy fresh out the airing cupboards was so special.

He felt himself drifting into a peaceful sleep, he didn’t know if his life was real or imagined but it was not a problem. He pulled his cuddle nappy comforter to his cheek and rubbed it against his dummy. His head now devoid of hair was warm and snug in his woolly bonnet. Gentle music came through the air buds fitted in the sides for his baby headwear. A gentle melody added to his sleepiness but did he hear a female voice in the background? He suddenly had the picture in his mind of a teenage boy wearing a nappy, this was quickly followed by the feeling that this was perfectly normal. In the next vision he was pleading to be treated like an incontinent baby. He smiled behind his dummy and slowly fell into a deep sleep.

Chapter 345.

The leather hotpants fitted him perfectly.  They also suited him perfectly.  It was definitely his favourite outfit of the day.  They did the shoot in one of the new stable blocks that had recently been built on the very western edge of the Centre, where there were fewer riders, and a background of open fields.  He was posing standing on a crate, when one of the stable girls approached.  She had just finished saddling horses for two members, and took a few minutes off her duties to complement him on his outfit.
“Hello.  Are you Tim?”
“Yes.”
“Hi.  I’m Jenny.  I work here.  You cleaned my boots a few weeks ago.  Actually twice.  Do you remember?”
“Oh…  I think I do, but I cleaned so many girls’ boots…”
“I know.  Then you were wearing really smart little red pants.”
“Oh…  Was I…?”
“Yes.  But I think I like these hotpants much better.  They look really good on you.”
“Do they?  They’re not hotpants, actually…”
“They surely are.  They have the braces and everything.  They’re proper hotpants.  You look great.”
“Er…  Thank you.”
“I’m Jenny.”
“Hi Jenny…”
“I have to get back to work now, but…”
“Yeah?”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure…”
“Would you go on a date with me?”
“What?”
“Would you go on a date?  My friend wants me to go with her and her boyfriend, but I don’t have a boyfriend.  Would you?  Please?  I think you’re so great.  I thought so the first time I met you.”
“Go on, Tim.  Go with Jenny.  She’s asked you so nicely,” interjected Lucille, delighted.
“But I…  I mean, I don’t know if I’ll be free…  I have work, see…”
“When is it, Jenny?” asked Serena.
“Tomorrow.  Tomorrow evening.”
“Perfect.  You’re free tomorrow evening, Tim.  You don’t go to Mrs Brookshaw’s till Saturday morning.  Yes, Jenny, he can go.  You’ll go with Jenny, won’t you, Tim?”
“I…I…”  Serena gave him a look.  “I guess…”
“Good.  That’s settled then.  Can he meet you at reception, Jenny?”
“Yes!  Great!  Thank you so much!”
“What time?”
“Five-thirty?”
“I’ll drop him off.”
“Tim?  Can you wear…”  She pointed at his hotpants.
“Tim?  You’ll wear your hotpants for Jenny, won’t you?”
“I…”
“My friends will be so jealous…  You’re so amazing…  They all worship you…”
“They do…?”
That did it for Tim.
“Course.  Glad to help.”
This was definitely the coolest outfit of the day so far.  He had, like, completely dazzled this girl, just by being himself.  Yeah, well it was true, all the girls in the Centre were really stuck on him.  He knew that.  Bobby?  Well, Bobby wore dresses!  They would hardly…  Anyway, yeah, he should circulate a bit more.  Like at the wedding.  When he did, he was so popular.  He’d been so busy training, but in future…
“See you tomorrow, Tim!” called Jenny, hurrying off and giving him a little wave.  Prob’ly gonna tell all her friends…
“Good for you, Tim,” said Doreen.  “I’m sure you’ll have a great time.”
“When we’re finished…  Can I wear this outfit through lunch, miss?”
“I can’t see why not…”
“Thanks!”
Great!  He wanted to stroll around the Centre and show it off a bit before he went to the canteen.  So few girls around up there in that remote stable block.

He did, too.  He found that the girls stared everywhere he went.  Many of them smiled and waved.  A few called his name.  Occasionally one would just stare, open-mouthed.  Struck dumb.  Rendered speechless by pure cool.  The hippest guy in town…   

Chapter 343. 

Robyn made her way to the canteen, where her mother was drinking coffee.
“Did you see him?”
“Oh my god, mum.  Make him wear those little yellow hotpants on Saturday, please…  Give him some kitchen duties.   Just for me, yeah?”
“Oh, yellow ones now?  Okay.  I’d like to see that myself.”
“They’re so pretty!  And he’s so proud of them!  I couldn’t help laughing.  Look at this.”
She handed her the phone.
“Well, well…  He’s a treasure, for sure…”
“Look, I have to go.  I’ll come back and pick you up at five, yeah?  Take as many snaps as you can, won’t you?”
“Don’t worry, dear…”

The rest of the morning was dedicated to boy stuff.  There was a fun traditional pageboy outfit with knee-breeches and silk stockings in pale blue, and a pink roller-boy costume.  By this time Pitt’s Wood was filling up, and there was no shortage of spectators.  It soon became impossible to keep them out of the photos, so the ladies simply accepted their presence and pressed on regardless.  As for Tim, he was happiest when playing to an audience, and welcomed all the extra attention.  The titters, giggles and whistles that accompanied the applause every time he appeared in a new outfit he interpreted as a symptom of suppressed admiration.  Lucille remarked to the others that they could really be even more daring in their choices.
“Well, we do have the “sissy pageboy outfit”,” grinned Serena.
“Would he accept that, though,” asked Doreen, doubtfully.
“Let’s try the other vinyl outfit first, then.  I have a feeling he’s up for anything today…”
“He’ll need to be this afternoon.  You’ve got the makeup case, Doreen?” asked Lucille.
Doreen smiled and nodded towards the pile of boxes marked “P.M.”

Chapter 341.

Despite his anxiety about what sort of person Mrs Brookshaw was, and what demands she would make of him, he slept well that night and was up early Thursday morning.  It was the beginning of December, but fortunately the weather was bright and sunny, and though there was a bite in the air, there was little wind.  He showered, put on his red hot pants pageboy outfit, and presented himself in the breakfast room.  Several of the staff were sitting at the big table.  Cassandra was relaxing in an armchair, sipping coffee.
“Good boy!” she smiled.  “All ready to go, I see.  What would you like for breakfast?”

He opted for cereal and pancakes.  Eating reminded him of lunch.
“Miss?  Will I be taking a packed lunch?”
“Oh, no…  Too much fuss.  We’ll go to the canteen.  You can have whatever you want.  With a bit of luck…”
“Will I see Bobby?”
“That’s what I was going to say.  If we can, we’ll organise it so you’ll be able to see your friend.”
“Great!”
“Oh, and this is for you.  Doreen got it for you.”  She handed him a little pink belt-purse.  “You can keep your money safe, or a tissue.  She put your gloves in there too.”
“Ooh, thanks…”
“Doreen and Lucille will be doing the photography.  Lucille?”
Lucille was sitting opposite him.
“We may ask you to pose, but otherwise you can just be natural.  Anyway, Serena will be in charge of the locations, so just do what she tells you.  There’ll be people you know there, and we’ll have plenty of time.  Also, I’m sure our little shoot will attract an audience.  Other people might be snapping away, but just ignore them, okay?”
“Sure.  Of course.”  He couldn’t suppress a smile of satisfaction.  “So will I have many new outfits?”
“Well, several, I think,” said Cassandra.  “Most of the pageboy things may be just variations of the original.  But don’t be disappointed.  We have to give our clients a choice of styles and colours, naturally.  Then some will want one outfit for when you’re working around the house, another for parties, another for going out, and so on.  Miss Brookshaw was primarily thinking of you as her maid, but when I showed her a photo of you as a pageboy she was so impressed, and amazed at your versatility.”
“I think I prefer being a pageboy…”
Cassandra laughed.  “I’d noticed.  You love those swanky shorts, don’t you?”
Tim grinned.  Yes, He rather be a pageboy any day than dressed as a girl.  The female attention was addictive.
“Well he does look so cool in them,” remarked Lucille, with a romantic sigh.  “Such a heartthrob!”
Tim liked that.  He bestowed on her what he imagined was a devastating smile.  He simply couldn’t help being such a babe magnet…
“Well thank goodness it’s a nice day,” smiled Cassandra, looking out of the window.  “Mild too, for the time of year.”  She looked at her watch.  “You guys should get going soon.  Let me know how things go, won’t you?”
“Yes, mum,” said Serena.  She exchanged glances with Cassandra.  What they weren’t telling him was that Connie Brookshaw was going to pay them a visit, probably sometime in the afternoon, when he would be modelling a couple of her creations.  He’d never met her, nor seen a picture, so she would pose as a horsey visitor.  But she wanted to see her new maid in the flesh.

To Tim’s disappointment, Serena wasn’t taking the Porsche.  Instead the four of them were going in Lucille’s estate, into which the various outfits and props had already been loaded. 
“Oh, sorry Tim,” said Serena, with mock sympathy, “I know you love my car…”
“Work hard and you might have one of your own one day,” remarked Doreen.
“No, I just like this one,” said Tim, sadly.
“Okay – pretend it is yours,” laughed Lucille.  “Go on – I’ll take a quick snap.”

It was a quick drive – there wasn’t much on the road that morning – and by eight they were in reception.  Miss Poole came out to greet them.
“You’re here nice and early.  It’s a lovely day for it.  Tim, you look so smart today.  Love the new red shorts.  Are you looking forward to it?”
Tim nodded enthusiastically.
“He’s in his element,” said Serena, with a wink.  “Aren’t you, Master Painter?”
Tim looked puzzled, and everyone laughed.
“Ah, yes,” quipped Miss Poole.  “The TFC’s going to be out in force today…”
“TFC…?” repeated Doreen.
“The Tim Fan Club, dear.  Really, you should make it official.  Would you like that, Tim?”
He looked startled.  “My own fan club?  Really…?”
Everyone laughed again.
“I think Miss Poole was joking, Tim,” said Lucille.
“Was I?  I’m not sure.  You realise, Tim, that since the wedding your image is all over social media?  Why doesn’t one of you ladies work with his Facebook profile, or get him on TikTok or something, so he can show off all his outfits more widely?  I’m surprised you hadn’t thought of it.  Would you like that, Tim?  Yes, of course you would.  I’ll talk to Cassandra.  We could link it to ESDS.  It would be good for Tim and good for us.”
“It’s an idea…” said Serena, thoughtfully.
“Anyway, you should get on.  Where are you going to start?”
“We thought around the new stables, said Serena.  We’ll head up there and take a couple of test photos to see what they look like.”

Ten minutes later Tim, watched closely by a couple of girls who had come to saddle their ponies, but had been distracted by his appearance, was posing in one of the upper paddocks, one foot on a mounting block, looking like some sort of pioneer.  To tell the truth, had he worn that one outfit all day he would have attracted all the attention he could have wished for.  But there were plenty of others in the back of Lucille’s car…