Chapter 370.

Not only Kit, but the ladies too, recognised that Tim as a girl, albeit shy and self-conscious, was the polar opposite of Tim the boy.  Tim the boy was a rather comic mixture of confidence and gaucheness, cheerful, easily flattered, obedient, and from Connie’s point of great fun to tease and play with.  But made up, and dressed in flattering, sophisticated female attire, he could pass for a most attractive girl.  In the long term, the plan was for her and ESDS to work together until he was equally happy as boy or girl.  But for now she was content to exploit and encourage his natural addiction to latex clothes of all types.  In any case, both options had their advantages, but for the moment she saw the greater scope for humiliation in the character of Tim the Pageboy.  She had a new pageboy outfit for him which she was looking forward to dressing him in for Esther’s surprise visit the next day.  And happily no persuasion would be needed.
“So Tim…  What do you think of this dress?  Is it not beautiful?”
He turned away from Kit for a moment and towards Connie.
“Yes…  It is, I suppose…”
“But?”
“But I think I like my pageboy outfit the best…”
“Yes, I thought so.  Well, maybe you can be a pageboy all day tomorrow, if that’s what you really want.”
“Really?  Promise?”
She laughed.  “Promise.  I have a new one I think you’ll like.”
“You do, miss?” he cried, excitedly.  “What’s it like?”
“Wait and see, naughty boy.

Tim’s current shyness was generated purely by his attraction to Kit, and the sense that he could surely not appeal to her as much dressed as a girl as when he was dressed as a boy.  At present, what he perceived as her view of him mattered above all else.  So he resigned himself to a girly day in the reassuring knowledge that on Sunday he’d be able to flirt with her in full male mode.


“Maybe, miss Connie, I could take him for a walk while sun is still out?  Tim?  You like that?”
Tim seemed uncertain.  Connie hesitated.
“Great idea, Kit.  But though it is sunny, the air’s quite cold.  And the ground may be muddy.  You wouldn’t get far in those heels.  Tim dear, we have some other girls’ outfits which may be more appropriate.  Come with me and let’s try one on.”
She collected some colourful items from the heap, and led him into the big living room.  Kit looked after him ruefully.
“That dress very special,” she remarked, to no-one in particular.  “He look like perfect young woman…”
“You’re right,” said Maxine.  “He looks absolutely dazzling.  If he wore a wig of some sort no-one could tell…”
Kit frowned.  “He not need wig, miss Maxine…  But yes, who could know…?” 

Next door, Connie went through the outfits.  Either of these would be perfect for today, Tim, really nice and warm.  Do you like them?”
“Yeah. they’re cute, aren’t they.  I like both…”
“But first, try this one.  I think Kit will love it.  You’ll look so pretty.  I’ve been saving it, but you can’t wear it out at this time of year…”
It was a very simple outfit in white and strawberry ice-cream pink – a light tiered skirt, and pink crop top, and pink and white accessories.  To his credit, and although he looked a little doubtful, Tim didn’t demur.
“Okay…  If you think she’ll like it…  What does that mean?”  He pointed at the words “ASK ME” across the chest.
“Well, whatever you want it to, I guess.  Maybe, “are you a boy or a girl”…or, “can I have a kiss?”
Tim giggled shyly.  Connie was pleased he seemed to be becoming more amenable to female attire.  But she was only just starting.
“Now, Tim, everything you wear here while you’re with us has to be recorded.  So after you’ve shown it to Kit, we can just pop out into the garden for a moment and I’ll take a few snaps for the album, okay?
“Yes, miss.”
He was never averse to a photo-shoot.  Connie smiled.  “Little show-off,” she murmured.
“Sorry, miss?”
“Nothing.  Look, I’ve got some pretty earrings and bangles too…

It goes without saying Kit approved, and to judge by his expression as he posed outside, he was as happy as he’d been all day…

yes rubbing myself hard

Oh should said Nursery Nurse Rita gets lots fun from her ABs. Replacing their dummies with her Special lollipop lol. She likes that!! Checking their Terry Nappies in places with people about. Taking guys out in wheelchairs in their thick Terry Nappies, Plastic Pants, AB Rompers/Babygros. Covering them with blanket with threat she will pull blanket away and X pose that they are wearing thick Terry Nappies and Plastic Pants. Sitting on bench at seaside, being wheeled along path of park. Image in Nursery Print RUbbers/Plastic Pants. She has done this a few times the ABs are up for it and love it tho. Always has changing bag over handles wheel-chair and it's open!!!!

nurse rita caN change my nappies anytime

PART 74

       â€œI must admit, I had originally planned to name two winners—Josh and Kathy. But after a lovely chat with both Mrs. Smyth and our dear Kathy earlier this afternoon, Kathy insisted the honor go to her brother alone. She said, and I quote, ‘Josh deserves it—I’ve never seen anyone make such a sacrifice for our family tradition.’” There was a gentle ripple of laughter and several admiring glances at Kathy, who blushed but lifted her chin proudly, her eyes never leaving her brother.

       The crowd broke into enthusiastic murmurs, but to Josh, it was like a tidal wave threatening to wash him away. He sat rooted to his chair, his throat suddenly dry, while Kathy gave him a warm, encouraging nudge.

       Finally, Mrs. Standish cleared her throat, her voice ringing out: “The winner for Best Outfit is…” She paused to beam at Josh as if he were a tasty little dessert to be gobbled up.  “Of course,” she continued, “who else could it be but our adorable Josh Brantley!”

       Immediately, applause erupted as Josh felt his heart drop. The prospect of being paraded in front of everyone was almost too much. His cheeks flamed as Mrs. Standish gestured for him to join her, and the room’s gazes seemed to converge on every ruffled edge of his ornate Fauntleroy suit.

       Mrs. Standish smiled grandly, then insisted that Josh step forward—alone. “Let’s all admire Josh’s extraordinary Fauntleroy suit!” she announced, her voice ringing out and somehow magnifying every mortifying detail of his sissyish outfit. As he stood, Mrs. Standish began to point out the intricate details of his adorable velvet jacket, his prissy lace cuffs, and his femininely delicate bows. 

       Josh’s knees wobbled unsteadily as he stood and tentatively stepped forward. Heart pounding and legs trembling as he rose, the sissified teen shuffled toward the front. Every step felt like it was under a spotlight, every eye in the room fixed on the elaborate frills and ribbons of his Fauntleroy suit. He barely dared to glance at the crowd, but the mixture of grins and curious stares only made his cheeks burn all the brighter.

       The crowd laughed and giggled appreciatively, but for Josh, the moment stretched into an eternity of mortification.

       Mrs. Standish continued with gusto, “Pay attention to that charming pink velvet jacket, those ornate lace cuffs, and the sweet bows at his knees—such attention to detail!” Before Josh could even think of retreat, Mrs. Smyth stood up and joined in with even more exuberance, turning him in a slow circle so the crowd could gawk at the shiny buttons, pink polished nails, and the delicate frills adorning his blouse.

       Speaking to the crowd, she practically exclaimed “Look at that precious lace collar and that darling sash! Don’t he look just scrumptious?” Her enthusiasm earned a ripple of laughter from the audience.

       Josh stood rigid, face flaming, while the crowd whispered and tittered, some pointing and snickering. He was acutely aware of every bow, every ribbon and layer of lace as Mrs. Standish and Mrs. Smyth described each frilly detail, right down his restrictive corset and the ruffled socks peeking out from his pink velvet Mary Janes. His ordeal stretched out endlessly, as he was now the unwilling focus of everyone’s attention.  His embarrassment grew with each new observation. He tried to shrink into himself amid the applause and teasing giggles, but somehow he still managed a wobbly, mortified smile. He felt exposed and helpless, but he tried to muster a smile.

       Someone in the front row whispered, “He really does look like a prissy little lord!” prompting appreciative giggles.

       In that moment, Josh’s need to use the restroom became insistent.

       But Mrs. Smyth continued, eyes twinkling with delight as she took in every detail of Josh’s attire. “Now everyone, I simply must point out the artistry here,” she exclaimed, her voice brimming with pride.  She then directed everyone’s gaze to his pristine tights, “don’t overlook the stockings—pure white with just a hint of a sheen, and perfectly snug, of course. They set off his darling pink velvet Mary Janes so beautifully! Oh, those shoes—custom-dyed and finished with the sweetest little buckles.”

       Mrs. Standish continued, “and of course, the pièce de rĂŠsistance—his beautiful lace collar!” Mrs. Smyth gently lifted the snowy white lace so everyone could better appreciate its grandeur, “It frames his face just like a portrait—absolutely precious!”

       But Mrs. Smyth wasn’t finished, “and let’s all give a round of applause for Miss Andrea, who worked her magic on these darling ringlets.” She gently twirled one of his glossy curls around her finger, drawing attention to the softly bouncing, perfectly defined tresses that crowned Josh’s head.

       She finished with a proud nod, her hand still resting lightly on Josh’s shoulder. “Josh is truly a vision of Victorian grace!” 

       Josh’s heart pounded faster with every passing moment, and the pressure in his bladder grew overwhelming. He tried to focus on Mrs. Smyth’s words, nodding along as she gestured at his ringlets and the delicate bows at his knees, but his thoughts were consumed by the urgent need for relief. The crowd’s attention, laughter, and applause all blurred together as he shifted his weight again, hoping no one would notice the panic etched on his face. His ears began to ring. Standing in front of the crowd, his legs pressed tightly together, he rocked subtly from foot to foot, desperately trying to maintain composure. Each time he shifted, his ornate suit and ruffled collar drew only more admiring glances from the audience.

       Then, all at once, Josh’s body finally betrayed him. He could no longer hold it, and a warm gusher of wetness spilled into his diaper, thankfully hidden beneath the elaborate layers of his Fauntleroy suit. As the pressure broke through his strained control, a sharp flush of shame colored his cheeks. A shiver of mortification raced through him and his cheeks burned beet red. The audience seemed to mistake his movements for excitement and nerves and broke into another round of applause. It seemed they were entirely unaware of Josh’s ordeal as he stood trembling, caught between relief and the deep embarrassment of the afternoon’s spectacle.

       At once, the shameful reality of his situation set in. As he completely soaked himself like a toddler, the sissified teen stood helplessly as the center of attention in his over-the-top Fauntleroy suit.

       His mother watched all this with interest. A mother always knows. She felt a little pang of embarrassment for her prettified son, but she also couldn’t suppress a giggle at how unexpectedly cute the situation was. “No half measures,” Gwendolyn again though to herself. She couldn’t help it. She was pleased to see one more vestige of boyishness being ripped away before her eyes.