Wonderful story, this is how I imagine the dress

Peter waddled down the corridor to the front entrance it was made all the move difficult because of the punishment egg in his vagina, he started to lag behind so Lady Forrester put his toddler harness back on him and she started a brisk walk dragging Peter along. He let out a moan as the egg did its job by the time they had got to the Rolls Royce, he was quite flushed and as he sat down in the plush leather cream seats of the Rolls, he started to play with himself again to try to alleviate the feelings in his crotch. Lady Forrester slapped peter’s hand lady’s do not play with themselves but I am horny Mother she said Well a good spanking might sort out this un-lady like behaviour. But that will have to wait till we get home. The Car pulled up outside a department store which was name Adult children’s and Babies attire it was a big store that looked very posh from the outside. As they went in Lady Forrester said right girls you have to run of the shop let me know if you want anything I will put it on my account. Lady Forrester took the walking leads off Peters toddler reins but left the rest locked on him embarrassing him he looks like a toddler schoolgirl. Lady Forrester said right girls its free time to go shopping met me back here in 1and half hours don’t be late or their will be consequences. Peter held Primrose’s hand and led her of he headed to the rest rooms on the top floor fully aware that his diapers and rubber knickers were on full view on the escalators they arrived at the restroom a lady that was the attendant their stopped them from entering the ladies toilet saying you girls need the baby and toddler room Peter said no we don’t we are big girls the lady took peters hem of his tunic and lifted it but you are wearing diapers and rubber panties. Peter said mummy puts them on us just in case we have an accident but really, we are big girls Peter could not look the lady in the eye while he was lying. The Lady noticed that Peters rubber panties were locked on at the back and with a knowing smile she said okay girls toilet is second on the left this one is for adult ladies only but if you do need the toddlers changing room it’s the third on the left smiling. Peter and primrose headed for the girl’s toilet as they opened the door, they saw two other girls in there. The room consisted off the five stalls however there were no door on the stall so there was no modesty girls take a piss or poo would be clearly seen with their knickers down. Peter took a look at the other two girls one was dressed in a sailor style dress with a short skirt and a large yoked collar it was navy blue with white pipping around the collar and skirt. She had white woolly pantyhose and white Victorian bloomers on that came to just above the knee.  There was a massive bulge around her crotch area which could only mean she was heavily diapered. Every time she moved you herd the crinkle of plastic pants the type babies wear over their nappies. The other girl was dressed differently she had my little pony t shirt on but her bra could be seen under the t shirt she was dress in pink Lycra knee shorts. She had pink trainers on and lacy pop socks, also she too had padding around the crotch however it was different it was a large padded strip from front to back like special needs children have for incontinence the large cloth strip was covered by plastic pants.  She looks like a 14-year girl who had special needs and is incontinent.  Then she talked my name is colin but since as was convicted and converted to a special needs child my name is now Clare, she burst into tears they have taken away my pen-is and given me a vagina then the other girl shouted me too I was mike now I am a girl named Mandy. Please can you help us we both need help taking of are knickers and rubber pants so we can use the toilet please we are desperate for a pee. Peter and Primrose went over to Mandy with their hands they tried to take Mandys bloomers off they pulled them in all direction but they would not budge Mandy desperately tried to take her knickers off but the lock was to strong she suddenly she held her crotch then started to cry I have wet my knickers and diapers. The rubber knickers made sure that Mandy’s silk bloomers stayed dry. Looking at Mandy from a distance she did not look like see had pissed her diapers however when you got closer there was a distinct bulge in her bloomers and the smell of stale pee was clear for all to see.  Then Clare said I need help quickly I really need to pee so Peter and Primrose rushed over to Clare they quick took down her pink Lycra shorts covering her plastic knickers was a large pair of pink cotton my little pony panties which did not fully cover the plastic knickers.  Peter quickly took the panties down revealing a pair of plastic knickers with a very large padded incontinence pad which covered both Clare’s bottom and crotch. The plastic knickers had a chain and lock on the waist and chains and locks around the leg cuffs as well. Both Peter, Primrose and Mandy tried to take off Clares plastic knickers but nothing budged they were locked on and no amount of force was going to move them. So, Peter pulls up the cotton panties and also Clare Lycra shorts.  He said there no going to move without being unlocked Clare.  Clare held her crotch and started to kind of dance holding her crotch at the same time she rushes over to the toilet pulls down her shorts and panties and sits on the toilet. Peter could see Clare on the toilet in her plastic knickers and incontinence padding suddenly the white cloth padding change colour to that of yellow pee she had wet herself all over the pads and plastic knickers.  Clare then pretended to wipe herself with toilet paper and flush the loo Clare stood up carefully pulled up her cotton panties and shorts.

When I was younger, about twelve, my parents divorced, which, needless to say, upset me greatly. Unfortunately, at about that time, I began wetting the bed, not every night, but generally about three times a week. My mom took me to doctors, put an alarm in my room, but nothing seemed to help. She finally decided on the very practical solution of diapers and plastic panties.
   One day, she came into my bedroom and cleared off my dresser top with its airplane models, replacing them with stacks of fluffy soft cloth diapers, baby powder and diaper rash cream. My top drawer was soon filled with a variety of plastic and rubber panties, in many different colors and patterns.
   The first night she decided to diaper me, I argued with her and put up quite a fuss but she responded by yanking me over her knee, pulling my pants down and spanking me until I cried. With my bottom blazing, I willingly submitted to her pinning me into a thick set of diapers and following it with yellow nursery print plastic panties. It made me feel very babyish and humiliated, and that night, I was determined to keep them dry, to prove to her that I was a big boy.
   Alas, I woke up the next morning with soggy wet diapers but my mom was no longer angry, since the sheets were still dry. She unpinned my diapers, depositing them in my new diaper pail, and she let me begin my day as usual.
   That evening, she took me into my room and began our new nightly ritual of her undressing me and putting my diapers on. At first, this took place right before bedtime, but as time went on, she began getting me ready for bedtime earlier and earlier in the evening, so that I often watched TV in just my pajama top and diapers.

   My mom’s younger sister lived two houses down from us, so it wasn’t long before my secret was out. She came in one evening unannounced, and caught me lying on the floor, my fat, shiny diapers in plain sight as I was watching a Disney movie. I gasped in shock and humiliation, scrabbling to my feet to try and escape but she immediately ordered me to come back and face her. My aunt has always been very strict and I never had the nerve to stand up to her.
   Keeping my eyes downcast, I reluctantly and slowly waddled back to her, my cheeks blazing hot with shame at being caught like this.
   â€œWell...looks like your mommy finally decided on diapers and plastic panties for your bedwetting. I think it’s just what you need and deserve, don’t you?”
   I shuffled my feet and swallowed hard, unable to return her imperious stare.
   â€œY-yes, Ma’am,” I mumbled obediently.
   â€œMaybe wearing diapers like a baby will make you try harder to stop your wetting, hm?”
   My cheeks and chest were a deep red as I nodded submissively.

   It wasn’t long after that when my mom had one of her friends over to visit after dinner. At about 7:30, she informed her that she had to get me ready for bed (even though my bedtime wasn’t until 9:00) and she took me by the hand and into my bedroom. Curious as to what was in store for me, her friend followed us and she got to watch as my mom undressed me and laid me down onto a triple set of diapers.
   â€œBobby has started wetting the bed and this seems to be the most practical solution,” my mom told her.
   I fidgeted nervously and tried to look the other way.
   â€œAww, lots of little boys wet the bed, sweetie,” she told me with a smile, “This will make sure your bed stays nice and dry.”
   I blushed hot with shame, not the least of reasons for being called a ‘little boy’.
   And this was doubly mortifying for another reason—ever since kindergarten, my boyish genitals had refused to grow any further and they were still very much the same size as when I entered the first grade. As a consequence, when my mom lowered my Spiderman undies and sat me down on the stack of diapers, her friend got a good look at my embarrassing, tiny little package. Even when fully erect, I was no bigger than an inch and a half and when feeling vulnerable like I was now--they shriveled up like three little marbles.
   Her friend put her hand to her mouth to stifle her giggle and I felt my eyes misting with tears of shame.
   After powdering me and pinning my diapers in place, my mom stood me up to have me step into my waiting plastic panties. I can still remember these—they were shiny white with colorful nursery characters that seemed to scream that I was just a big baby that couldn’t be trusted to keep my bed dry.

   It wasn’t long after that, that my mom’s other friends also found out about my nightly diapers and it became my humiliating task to wish them a goodnight whenever they were over for the evening, dressed in just my pajama top and embarrassing pampers. Some of them found it amusing or cute and some shook their heads at my babyish attire.
   I’m not sure which was worse; Their smiles and acceptance that I was a big boy who needed diapers or the ones who just thought I was pathetic for needing them.

   My mom got a vinyl mattress cover for my bed and before long, my room began to smell like that of a chronic bedwetter’s.

   Often times, my aunt (who I thought was very pretty) would babysit me and I can still remember accompanying her once for a long day of shopping. We were on our way home and I had been holding my need to go pee for at least an hour when finally, I just couldn’t hold it any longer. As a result, to my utter shame, I humiliatingly wet my pants. I thought I might be able to hide it from her but when we went inside, she immediately saw the big dark spot on my pants and scolded me roundly for it. Taking me to her room, she yanked down my wet pants and underwear and placed me on a waiting stack of diapers. With one hand, she held my ankles firmly over my head and with the other, grabbed her oval wooden paddle that she always seemed to have nearby. Six blistering swats were delivered to my bare bottom as I yelped helplessly and howled in pain. I cried like a baby as she powdered me and pinned my diapers in place, followed by a stretchy pair of pink rubber panties.
   â€œLooks like you need to be wearing diapers during the daytime too,” she said sternly, “Your mommy and I are going to be having a talk about this.”

   From that day on, whenever my aunt babysat me, I was put straight into my diapers, regardless of the time of day.

   Unfortunately, I was soon to become the architect of the next measure of discipline applied during my upbringing. Although I was very intimidated by my aunt, I also found her curvy body very exciting, especially for a young boy like me, in the throes of puberty. Her big, thrusting breasts--which she made little attempt to hide, were frequently the stuff of my boyish fantasies. As a result, it was not uncommon for me to experience an erection during my diaper changes at her house. She would inevitably scold me with annoyance and tell me such things were inappropriate for a boy still in diapers.
   Then one day while changing me--before she powdered me, I watched with apprehension as she picked up a strange, small steel ring and she pulled my tiny little package through it. Then, taking a short, cap-shaped metal cage, she placed it over the quivering head of my pen-is and mated the two pieces together, locking them in place with a long key.
   Although it didn’t hurt, I could feel it compressing my shy little nub and instinctively, I knew my tiny erections would now be out of the question. I squirmed and whimpered as she powdered me and pinned my fat, sissy diapers around my hips.
   â€œThere,” she said with satisfaction, “That will put an end to that nonsense—once and for all.”

   Little did I realize how significant that moment would become. Up until then, I had been a chronic masturbator, using my soft, fluffy diapers for my own guilty pleasure. But I soon learned that this terrible device would make sure I was both erection- and orgasm free from now on.

   Just the next morning, I woke up in my usual soggy wet diapers, but my baby-sized pen-is was throbbing with need inside its new steel prison. No amount of rubbing the front of my plastic panties could produce the kind of stimulation I had become accustomed to. Finally, I gave up in utter frustration.

   Frustration was to become my daily lot, since my aunt often babysat me, and I was constantly being stimulated by her sexy body—yet, completely unable to do anything about it. No amount of begging her to unlock the device would change her mind and in fact, one time when I became particularly fussy and defiant, she pulled my diapers down and took me over her knee. I kicked and cried like a baby as she soundly paddled me, lecturing me on how bedwetting sissies didn’t need to be playing with their wee-wees.

   There were several other times when I had accidents during the day, so my mom agreed with my aunt that my wearing diapers during the day made sense and my big boy underwear were simply thrown away. It was so difficult, trying to keep my diapers a secret at school, as the slippery, shiny vinyl was always threatening to peek out of the top of my pants. Of course, it couldn’t stay secret forever, and one time, when a bully yanked my trousers down in the cafeteria, everyone immediately learned what I wore every day. From that day on, I was known as the ‘sissy diaper boy’ at school and my incontinence only got worse.

   Although during the day, I was expected to notify my mom or my aunt when I had to use the bathroom, I began becoming more accustomed to my diapers and the number of ‘accidents’ started becoming more frequent. Sometimes, I would be watching TV and would get up—only to discover the seat of my diapers were soggy wet. Other times, it seemed to happen whenever I was surprised by someone or something. Inevitably, I would wet myself in fear before I could stop it.
   More and more, my mom seemed to accept it as part of my sissyish personality and my diapers were changed with little more than a scolding.

   At home, she stopped making any effort to hide my diapers, and I usually wore just a t-shirt and sneakers around the house. However, my aunt liked to buy tops for me that looked childish and went with my diapers. She loved matching outfits, like the baby blue Barney top with white frills and matching sissy panties she got for me. Once again, I could offer little resistance as she pulled the soft, babyish outfits over my upraised arms, the short, puffy sleeves and toddler motifs on the front making me look all the more immature.

   It was on my birthday that she presented me with a particularly humiliating gift—a pair of shiny black Mary Janes and white lacy anklets to go with them. This time, I put up a fuss and ended up over her lap again, getting a blistering hot birthday spanking for my efforts.

   That was how I spent the rest of my teen years—as a diapered, chaste sissy, firmly under the strict discipline of my mom and my aunt.

Chapter 256.

There was a few moments silence.  Tim was smiling faintly, and looking into the distance, imagining the whole of the female entourage of the stables worshipping at his feet.  Phillipa thought it was time to jerk him back to reality.
“Do you like our outfits?” she blurted, all of a sudden, gripping his thigh harder and looking up into his face with her big blue eyes. 
“What?  Oh, yeah…  You bofe look tote’ly amazin’!” 
“Really?” said Candy, getting to her feet.  “So you approve.  You’re not annoyed we stole your ideas?”
“No, course I ain’t!  You look gorgeous in ‘em…”
Phillipa rose and took her friend’s hand.  The pair of them sashayed in front of him, their boot heels making seductive little clicking sounds on the tiles.  Tim stared.  Their little shorts clung to their hips, and the spandex tops accentuated their breasts.  He could feel definite stirrings in his own shorts. 
“Which do you like best,” asked Phillipa.  “Candy’s outfit or mine?”
Tim gulped. 
“I-I can’t choose…  The red suits you, Philippa, and the black suits Candy.  Your boots…”  He swallowed, and became confessional.  “Your b-boots are so tall…  They fit your legs so perfec’…   You’re bofe so ‘ot, like…  Them little shorts an’ ‘igh boots wiv just a bit of figh in between…”
He took a deep breath.  The girls smiled and took a pace forward, till his nostrils were full of the scents of new leather and warm latex, and their thighs were in front of his face.  Candy playfully swivelled his baseball cap round so the peak was at the front.
“You look best when you wear it like that…”
“I do…?”
“Yes.  Now feel our boots, Tim.  These are the best quality leather Fantastex had in stock.  Go on…”
He reached out and stroked the leather, first Candy’s, then Phillipa’s.  He was hard now; he could see the bulge out of the lower corner of his eye.
“Feel our shorts, Tim,” said Phillipa, seductively.  “That’s right.  Don’t they fit us well?”
“Y-yes…  Like, really smoove…” he said, weakly.  He was totally in thrall.
The girls resumed their seats.  Phillipa’s hand returned to his thigh, inches from his erection.  She turned her head to his.  He felt her warm breath on his right ear.
“But you’re the smartest out of all of us,” she whispered, “and the sexiest…”.
Candy rested her chin on his shoulder.  Her scent enveloped him.
“Do you know how sexy you are, Tim?  It stands out a mile…”
“Well, six inches at least,” added Phillipa.  And they laughed.
“But seriously,” said Candy, “haven’t you noticed how all the girls ogle you when you go out in your uniform?”
Tim blushed.  “Not really…”
“It’s not true, is it?” she added suddenly.
“What?”
“That you and Bobby…  That you’re gay?”
“Course not!”  Tim snorted with indignation.
“No, I don’t think it can be,” said Phillipa, glancing at the taut latex.
“In which case…  Do you find us attractive?”
His heart was pounding away, his coc-k aching with arousal.  He had no difficulty in replying.
“Yeah.  Bofe of you.  Very, very attractive.”
“Or is it just the outfits?” said Candy.  “What happens if this becomes a trend, and a whole bunch of girls start walking about in cute little pagegirl uniforms?  You know there are others, already.”
“There are?”
“Oh, yes.  Let me see…  There’s Justine…”
“Justine?  Which one’s that, Candy?”
“You know – long sexy gloves…”
“Oh, yes…  Her!  Don’t you dare go looking for her, Tim, or…”
“And there’s Betony…  She’s so pretty, isn’t she?”
“Gorgeous!  And what about…”
“Stop!  That’s enough!”
“Do you think it’ll all be too much for you, darling?” said Candy, archly.  “Naughty boy…”
Tim went to rise.  “Perhaps I should get to work on your boots now…”
The girls grabbed an arm each, and jerked him back into his chair.  The sudden movement was too much for the rubber press-stud.  His fly popped open, and his straining prick in its red latex sheath burst out and stood proud and twitching in full view.  The girls squealed with delight, but made sure to keep a tight hold on Tim’s arms.  Phillipa clapped her hands.
“Ooh!  Look!  You do like us, Tim!”
“You like us a lot,” laughed Candy.
“Oh my god, it’s so big…” murmured Phillipa, biting her lip. 
Candy prodded the shaft gently with one red-painted nail, making Tim squirm with embarrassment. 
“And hard,” she remarked.  She looked up.  “It’s really very impressive, Tim.”
Tim, face burning, didn’t know where to look.  Phillipa plucked up courage, took the head between thumb and fingers and gave it a gentle squeeze.  Tim gasped and wriggled.  Phillipa giggled. 
“Did you feel that, Tim?  Is it really sensitive?”  She slid her hand down and closed her fingers around the shaft.  “Gosh, I can only just get my fingers around it.”
“It’s bigger than Bobby’s, isn’t it?” said Candy.  “We can tell when we see you going to lunch together.”
Tim looked at her aghast.
“I know, we shouldn’t.  But all the girls do it – you know, try to guess the sizes…”
“It must be such fun to play with.  Is it, Tim?” said Phillipa, looking up into his face with the most innocent expression she could muster.
Tim opened his mouth to reply, but managed only an inarticulate stammer.
“He’s embarrassed,” remarked Candy,  “Aren’t you, Tim?  Anyway, Ellie told me…”  She paused, uncertain whether to continue.
“What did she tell you, Candy?” asked Phillipa, eagerly.
“Well…  She told me that the boys play with each other’s.  Is that true, Tim?”
Tim paused.  “N-no…  I mean…”
“It is, isn’t it?” blurted Phillipa.  “Ellie wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true.  I don’t blame you.  It must be such fun doing it to each other.  Do you c-um when you do that?”
“Of course they do!” laughed Candy.  “That’s all boys want, isn’t it Tim?  They want to c-um and c-um all the time.  They have so much they don’t know what to do with it.  Making you wear these cute red condoms is a great idea.  Otherwise I bet your little shorts would be getting all slimy and sticky all the time.”
She hooked one finger into his fly and pulled it open. 
“Ooh…  It goes right over your balls.  Clever.  Now we know something that none of our friends do!”
Phillipa looked thoughtful.  “So…  When you do it to each other, do you have competitions?  Like who can hold on the longest…or who makes the most c-um?”
“Phillipa…”
“Just tell us!  Please!  Come on.  It’s really interesting!”
“Look, we don’t do it all the time…”
“No?  But I bet you do it a lot!  Who usually c-ums first?”
“You, I bet…” said Candy.
“No!” cried Tim indignantly.  “Bobby nearly always c-ums first, as a matter of fact!”
He had rather given the game away.
“Oh, really?  Nearly always?  How often, exactly, Tim?”
“Let me go!  Please…” he whimpered, pathetically.
We can ask him later,” said Phillipa, ignoring him.  “Do you do anything else together?”
“Anything else…?”
“Yeah.  You know…”
“I should really make a start…”
“Sit still, Tim.  Answer Phillipa’s question.  Don’t you do anything else?”
Tim was getting more and more uncomfortable.
“No…that’s it.  It was just a couple of times, that’s all…”
“Don’t believe you,” said Candy, sing-song.
“What about…” - Phillipa lowered her voice – “fellatio…?”
“What?”
“You know,” said Candy.  And she mimed the activity.
“No!  No we don’t!”
“Why not?  That’s what boys like best of all, don’t they Candy?”
“Absolutely.  They’ll do anything for it.  If you did it for Bobby, he’d love you forever.  I bet you’d be so good at it, he wouldn’t ever want a girlfriend!”
“Look…   That’s not true, is it?  Why do you keep asking me these silly questions…?” 
There was a pause.
“What’s not true?” said Candy.
“Nothing!”
“That Bobby wouldn’t want a girlfriend if you did that for him?  Don’t be so sure, Tim.  He likes you a lot, you know…”
“Not that much…”
“Oh, he does.  It’s pretty obvious, the way he sticks to you.”
“But we’re not gay, so…”
Candy wasn’t letting him off the hook now.  “I didn’t say you were, Tim.  But if someone’s really important to you, and your desperate not to lose them, you do anything, right?”
“’E is important…”
“Do you think he really loves May?”
“May?  No, I don’t fink so…”
“S’pose she takes him away from you, just cos she’s prepared to give him what you won’t?”
Tim looked thoughtful…and slightly anxious.
“Bobby may be a bloke, but his thoughts and feelings are feminine.  You know it as well as anyone.  He’s dying for that dress Miss Poole’s promised him.  And who’s his favourite person?  You.  It may not be something you want to do for him, but I think your love is what he actually craves above all else.”
“Really…?”  He was seriously confused now.  He wanted out of this conversation.  “Okay, girls…look.  Let me do my job, and then…”
“No,” said Candy, decisively.  “We need to do something for you first.”
“W-what?”
“We don’t want you showing off to all our friends like you’ve been doing.  It’s a vicious circle.  They all stare at you, you get aroused, they stare more.  It’s the older women too.  Miss Carthew nearly got unseated the other day staring at you and not looking where she was going!  It’ll all end in tears unless we, er, deactivate you for a few days.  You need to save yourself for that wedding you're going to.  We can use a chastity device…”
“No!  Please!”
“Or…we can drain you of your, er, interest…”
Tim frowned, but didn’t reply.
“Ah, okay.  It’s that then.  Phillipa?”  She nodded towards the parlour door.  Phillippa, who hadn’t relinquished her hold on his coc-k, tightened her grip and stood up.
“Follow me, Tim.”
Candy opened the door, and Phillipa led him in…

MMMM!!!!! Sounds like very soon Josh is going to be wearing cute little girls dresses to show off his pretty rhumba knickers covering his thick nappy. Look forward to continuation.:)