The Streak pts. 1-10 by Dara Janey

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The Streak - Part 8

Username: DaraJaney, Oct/5/2005 16:35:03 [-04][new]



The next morning he was dry on waking up. But due to his accident the previous day he still had to keep the nappy on. “I have to go to work today”, she told him, “so I’ll bring you over to the kindergarten down the road.” He was shocked. “But I’ll be fine on my own”, he protested.



“I need to know if you have any accidents and I know that, if you do, you’ll probably try to conceal the fact. So, Miss Keane at the kindergarten said they would be happy to keep an eye on you.”



That was bad enough but she insisted that he had to be properly dressed for the kindergarten. She wasn’t letting him go in just a t-shirt and plastic pants over his nappy. She pulled the blue dress over his head despite his protests. He continued pleading as she pulled the panties up over his plastic panties.



Then she insisted he wear white ankle socks and the t-bar shoes. All of the pairs of ankle socks had some kind of lace trim. He begged to be allowed wear his trainers and sports socks but she said it would look silly! “Silly?! What do you call this”, he blurted holding out the hem of his dress, revealing the trim of his panties. She smiled but there was no stopping her.



“Now don’t make me put the harness on you”, she threatened when he resisted moving towards the front door. He sighed heavily. He couldn’t believe that this ordeal was going to continue. She led him by the hand down the road. He looked up and down the road hoping that nobody would see. He heard a front door open as they approached the house with the kindergarten so he trotted quickly up the path as if he was anxious to get there.



Miss Keane was delighted to see them – too delighted, Tony thought. “You’re very good to agree to take him”, his mother said. “That’s no problem. All of our kids are out of nappies but we do get the odd accident.” His mother handed her a bag. “There are a few clean nappies there just in case.” Then she held the bag open and showed Miss Keane his dummy placed on top of the nappies. “And if he gets upset he might want this”, she whispered. Tony could have killed her. Miss Keane tried not to laugh bu*****was obvious what she thought.



His mother left and he was brought in to a room full of four year old kids. They were gob-smacked when they saw this teenage boy in an oh-so-short dress, frilly ankle socks and girl’s shoes. “Tony will be with us for a few days children”, Ms Keane told them. They were perplexed.



She handed him the bag and asked him to pu*****up on the table. When he did so, his dress rode up enough to show all the kids the obvious bulge of his nappy. “Miss Keane is he wearing a nappy?” one of them blurted. Most of them laughed and Tony quickly tugged his dress down again. “Now, now, children, don’t tease him. He just has a little wetting problem at the moment.”



Tony froze not wanting to turn around and face them. He dearly wanted his dummy but that would only make things worse. “Why is he wearing a dress?” one of the little boys asked. Then another piped up “oh, is this the boy who was kept as a baby in the girls’ school last year?” “That’s right”, Miss Keane confirmed, “and he just needs a little toilet training again, that’s all.” Tony cringed.



He had to participate in all the children’s activities and to be honest at leas*****passed the day. They all had a glass of orange juice and went out into the yard to play. They stood in a circle and threw a beach ball to each other. Tony noticed that the little boys did their best to throw the ball high to him so that he had to reach up and reveal his panties. Even though he knew this, he had to catch the ball or they would all laugh at him if he dropped it.



The mischievous little boys started picking up the s***d so that they were all desperately throwing the ball from one to the other really quickly. Some of them started getting over-excited and Miss Keane intervened to end the game. Tony tugged his hem to make sure his dress was covering everything when he felt the familiar warm feeling spread around his nappy. He couldn’t believe it! He was wetting himself again. This meant at least another day in nappies and the prospects of being allowed out of them soon were looking bleak.



He froze as his ***ing continued. The other children trotted inside. Miss Keane noticed that he was standing rigid and looking fairly downcast. “What’s wrong?” she asked. Tony just looked at her and lowered his gaze. She tried not to laugh. “Have you … eh … had an accident?” Some of the children heard and stood to wait for the reply. Tony’s lack of denial was sufficient.



Miss Keane took him by the hand. “Now look what happened”, she scolded the boys. “I told you not to get too excited.” They all laughed as Tony was led away to be changed.



Some of the kids had big brothers in Tony’s school and they teased him that their brothers couldn’t wait until he was back in school after the summer holidays. Tony knew his life was going to be made even more miserable when he had to face the whole school. They all knew he had spent a whole year in nappies and frilly baby dresses. He suspected that the whole town knew that he was still wetting himself and actually needed to be in nappies.



This knowledge in itself and the worry as to what would happen if he didn’t regain control of his toilet before school restarted only put him under more stress and probably contributed to his wettings.

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The Streak - Part 9

Username: DaraJaney, Oct/6/2005 13:30:37 [-04][new]



With one week to go he was still wetting himself. In fac******was more frequent if anything. Most of the time he realised it was coming and was able to take off his nappy and go in the toilet but if he was concentrating on something or distracted by something he was liable to find himself soaked through before realising what was happening.



His mother told him he would have to go back to school and if he was still wetting himself then he would just have to go back in nappies. The idea of this terrified him. It was bad enough as it was the teasing he was going to get but if he was still in nappies it would be unbearable. But he became even more anxious and each morning woke with a soggy nappy.



He was becoming more and more miserable as the return to school approached and his control actually deteriorated. He frequently sneaked a few moments with a dummy to console himself.



When it came to the first day of school his mother entered his room carrying his school uniform. Tony looked morosely through the bars of his cot. She placed his clothes on his bed. She had bought an extra large pair of grey trousers to fit over his nappy.



She lowered the side of the cot. He stared at his uniform for a moment and eventually swung his legs out of the cot. His mother fetched the trousers and held them in front of him. “Here you go.”



He sat on the edge of the cot, lowered his head and shook it. “What’s wrong”, she asked. He looked up. “There’s no way I’m going to school wearing a nappy”, he insisted. “Well, you can’t go without one”, she told him. “It would be worse if you wet yourself in front of them all.”



He looked down again. “I know.” She looked at him. “So what are you saying?” “I’m not going back to school”, he said firmly. “I see”, his mother said, thinking about this. Years of practice as a mother had honed her skills in psychological warfare.



“OK”, she said. He looked up in surprise. “But if you’re not going to school then you’ll have to continue going to the kindergarten in your baby dresses”, she told him. He winced. “And there’ll be no point in trying to toilet train you again”, she continued, “you can do everything in your nappy from now on.” He sighed. He should have known she wouldn’t make it easy.



His mother fetched his prettiest dress and placed it on the bed beside his school uniform. “So which do you want to wear - your uniform or your baby dress?” She smiled, confident that she had him cornered. She picked up his trousers again and held them out for him.



But much to her surprise he shook his head. She hesitated momentarily. He obviously needed more convincing. She picked up the pink dress. “OK then, arms up!”



“Please Mum”, he begged. “The other boys would tear me apart if I turn up wearing a nappy.” “Fine”, she said, “so let’s get your baby dress on and I’ll get you over to the kindergarten.” He started crying in frustration. She pulled an arm up and pushed it through a sleeve of the dress. He made a cross face but didn’t fight her. Soon he was zipped up and she went to get the matching panties.



He continued to plead with her but she ignored it all and continued dressing him. She put on his frilly ankle socks and t-bar shoes. Then she fetched a bonnet. He cringed. She hadn’t made him wear bonnets since he was freed from the girls’ school but she was determined to turn up the pressure. She tied the bonnet on his head.



She went back to the drawers and returned with the fingerless mittens. He gave her a desperate pleading look. “You’re going to be a proper helpless baby if you stay at home”, she told him. “I’m not letting you have a cushy life with no school. You’ll be bottle fed and spoon fed everything. I’ll have the school send down your high-chair and play-pen.”



She waited for him to crack and agree to put on the uniform but she buckled the mittens on his hands and pushed the dummy in to his mouth and all he did was cry harder. She took him into the kitchen, sat him down and spoon-fed him his corn-flakes. There was no sign that he was going to give in.



She put clean nappies and a baby bottle in his bag for the kindergarten. He still didn’t crack. When she pulled him towards the front door he dug his heels in but to no avail.



Soon they were in the kindergarten. Miss Keane was surprised to see him. “Oh, I thought he was going back to school today”. “He was supposed to”, his mother replied, “bu*****seems he’d rather be a baby and come here.” Tony gave her a wounded look from behind his dummy.



His mother handed Miss Keane his bag saying “there’s no point in letting him use the toilet anymore, he’s to do everything in his nappy in future. He can’t feed himself now either”, she said, pointing to his mittens.



Miss Keane realised what was going on and rowed in behind his mother. “OK but I’m afraid real babies should go to the crèche. We’ll look after him today but after that he should really be with the other babies.”



Tony just took this further humiliation stoically. As horrid as this would be at least he didn’t have to face a school full of cruel boys wearing a nappy.



The children in the kindergarten were amused to see him in his bonnet and mittens. He silently suc-ked on his dummy all day. There was nothing to say – no response to the taunts.



At the end of the day Miss Keane told them all that Tony was going to the crèche in future to be with the other babies since he obviously needed to stay in nappies. The little tykes felt so superior to this teenage boy who needed nappies and wore sissy baby dresses.

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The Streak - Part 10
Username: DaraJaney, Oct/8/2005 17:38:06 [-04][new]

That evening a van came and delivered the high-chair and play-pen from the school. It was driven by Ms. Grimstead herself. “You might as well take away his bed”, his mother told her, “he’ll be in the cot full-time now.” She watched Tony for a reaction but he just stood there with his shoulders sagging.

“Will you be passing the clothes bank on your way”, his mother asked. Ms. Grimstead nodded. “Would you mind taking his old boy’s clothes down there?” his mother enquired. “He won’t be needing them anymore so some poor boy might as well have them.”

Ms. Grimstead was clearly surprised at such a bold move. There would be no going back from that. She looked at Tony. He was tearing up again and suc-ked harder on his dummy but that was it.

Three sacks full of his clothes were put into the van. Ms. Grimstead had brought the remainder of his dresses from the school and these replaced his trousers and shirts in the wardrobe.

Outside Ms. Grimstead asked his mother “do you really want me to give away his clothes?” His mother looked back at the house and thought about it. “You might as well. He clearly is determined not to go back to school but he’s not getting an easy ride by staying here at home.” With that Ms. Grimstead drove off with his clothes.

His mother put him in the play pen and gave him dolls and blocks to play with. She fed him a bottle of milk before putting him in his cot at nine o’clock.

He couldn’t sleep no matter how tightly he cuddled his teddy or how hard he suc-ked on his dummy. It was obvious that his mother he was going to treat him just like a baby girl. For how long he didn’t know but with his bed and clothes given away it was hardly likely to be less than a year. The thought occurred to him that it could be longer than that and he sobbed continuously for hours.

The next morning when had been fed in the high-chair his mother let him out and put the harness on him for his trip to the crèche. He slouched along disconsolately clutching a doll. The ladies at the crèche were delighted at their new charge. “Oh isn’t he adorable. He’ll get the best of care here”, they assured his mother. “We know just how to treat babies.” He felt that there was a veiled threat in this.

Most of the kids in the crèche were three or four and out of nappies and didn’t need dummies or baby bottles, whereas he was as helpless as a one-year old and was treated appropriately.

Since he couldn’t handle the books he had to endure being read a fairy story. He couldn’t manage many of the toys that the toddlers handed him to play with and they were highly amused by this.

The rest of that week he continued going to the crèche everyday. By Friday the novelty of the big baby had worn off and he was just treated completely like a one year old as if this was the most normal thing in the world. He found that even more depressing.

On Saturday afternoon his mother let him out of his pen and brought him to his bedroom. She took the frilly panties off him. He wondered what she was up to. She fetched a pair of white tights and went to put them on him. He gave her a puzzled look. “We’re off for a walk to the shopping centre”, she told him. “It’s a little chilly out and since you’ll be out and about for a couple of hours you’ll need these cosy tights.” He was distraught at this revelation but she already had them pulled up over his nappy. She pulled the frilly panties up again over the tights and fluffed out his petticoats.

He was in tears. The only reason he was suffering being kept at home as a baby was to avoid the torment of appearing in public with a nappy under his trousers. Now he was going to be paraded around the town in an ultra-sissy baby dress with matching frilly panties and bonnet and tights – none of which did anything to conceal his thick nappy. He knew that many of the boys from the school hung around the amusement arcade in the shopping centre every Saturday.

He was strapped into his harness and dragged towards the door. He tried to hold onto the side of the door but it was useless with the mittens. “Sure everyone in the town knows that you’re a sissy baby girl now”, his mother told him. “I don’t know what you’re worried about.” Them knowing it was one thing, he thought, but having to face them all in his baby dress and nappy was another thing altogether.

Soon he was outside and the door closed behind him. The petticoats were so enormous that he couldn’t see anything below but he knew that his frilly panties would be clearly visible stretching over the obvious bulge of his nappy. His hands rested on the expanse of his petticoats which he thought would look particularly sissy but if he held his hands out above his skirts he felt like he was mincing along. He realised with dismay that any shred of dignity had long since deserted him.

He brought the streets to a standstill as he toddled along. Everyone had heard about him but relatively few had actually seen him in his full glory. It was obvious to all that it was indeed a nappy under his copiously frilly panties.

As he came towards the arcade the boys hanging around saw him. They called to those inside and soon dozens of his school mates were gathered around laughing and taunting. Tony wanted to die there and then but instead he just wet himself profusely. He looked down towards his nappy in horror. His mother recognised the look. “Oh dear, I think he has wet himself just now”, she announced. “And it’s only an hour since I changed him last.”

“Is there a baby-changing room nearby”, she asked. She was directed into the centre where there was a facility beside the toilets. She brought Tony in and several women followed. They watched as she helped him up onto the changing table and proceeded to remove the soggy nappy. He lay there mortified as she worked on him. When he was told to turn over he was relieved not to have to face the women anymore but there was a mirror in front of him and he could see the row of excited faces watch as his bum was wiped and powdered.

When he was pinned into a clean nappy and she brought him out of the changing room an even bigger crowd had gathered as news spread. His mother spotted the centre’s crèche where mothers could leave their children as they shopped.

He was brought in and transferred to the care of three teenage girls who were in charge. His mother left his changing bag in too. “He’s just been changed so that shouldn’t be a problem.” The girls looked disappointed.

The crèche was in the centre of the atrium and had glass windows all around so that mothers could reassuringly see everything that went on. Crowds gathered around all four sides as the girls made him play with the baby toys. When his mother returned after an hour she had to fight her way through the throng.

So his countless weeks continued, at the crèche during the week and on display wearing his prettiest baby dresses in the centre of the shopping mall every Saturday from three to four. As the regular hour became known people came from several towns around every week to see this teenage boy being kept as a sissy baby girl.

[concluded]