They filled Jake’s baby bottle with juice so slake his thirst in the pram. He hated suc-king on the teat again but was relieved to get something cool to drink. Finally he was pushed in his pram to a bus stop so they could go home. Of course they had to cross the dreaded park. Jake lay back as far as he could on his lacey pillows, pushed his bonnet forward as far as he could, suc-ked deeply on his soother and clutched his doll closer.
He listened for sounds of the boys playing football over the crunch of his pram wheels on the gravel. He heard a ball being kicked and cringed. He was also feeling the effects of his latest bottle. The girls pushed his pram on. It bounced uncomfortably on the uneven surface.
“Hey you!” Jake winced as he heard a boy call out. He felt the pram’s pace quicken as the girls tried to ignore the boys. He heard multiple footsteps running closer. He wanted to die again. If these boys found him in a pink baby dress, bonnet and nappy that would be the end of his life.
“Whose baby have you got there?” he heard a boy ask. Jake squirmed in his tights. “We’re babysitting for Mrs. Taylor”, one of the girls lied. “Let me see.” Jake looked up and one of the boys was looking directly through the netting. Jake started to fill his nappy with pee. That’s all he needed. He wasn’t just wearing a nappy under the petticoats of his baby dress, he was actually wetting his nappy!
“Sshh! She’s asleep.” Jake was terrified but had to close his eyes and suc-k gently on his soother and hope that the boys could see nothing unusual through the netting. “Huh!” He heard a ball being kicked away and the boys ran off after it. Jake relaxed a little but he was still filling his nappy.
When they got home he very gingerly climbed out of his pram, still unconvinced that a nappy could hold so much wee. Diane noticed his discomfort. “Have you wet your nappy again?” Jake nodded glumly while the girls giggled. At least he was home now and could get out of the mortifying baby dress and wet nappy with minimal further embarrassment.
“I’ve made great progress on the other baby dress”, his mother told them. “It should be ready for modelling the day after tomorrow”, she smiled at Jake. “Nnngghh!” There was no way he was going through this again. Once this nappy was off that was the end of his modelling career.
He pulled at the mittens on his hands. He couldn’t budge them. They were firmly held in place by the snappers at his wrists. His mother and the girls watched amusedly at his attempts to free himself. “I can see that we’ll have to keep your hands in those mittens”, his mother told him. “Nnnggggh!” He finally realized that he didn’t need to keep suc-king on the soother and spat it out.
“Let’s get your nappy changed.” Changed? He wanted it off and no more nappies. “Please Mum! There’s no way I’m wearing anything like this again”, he insisted, holding out his short petticoats. She seemed unmoved. “I think we have enough nappies to do him for the next couple of days – if we wash a few tomorrow.” Jake pulled at his mittens again but couldn’t budget them. He was helpless as long as these were tied on him.
He had to get the nappy off so he allowed himself to be changed. He couldn’t remove any of his baby clothes because of his hands being disabled. He pleaded and pleaded but his mother knew she had to keep him in his baby dress, nappy and mittens until he could model the new dress as she’d never get him to wear it again voluntarily.
He was sent to bed still in his nappy. Diane offered a short pink nightie and he couldn’t stop her dressing him in it. It was a relief to get out of the petticoats and tights.
When he woke in the morning he realized that he needed to poo. He went into his mother’s bedroom. She was awake. “Please Mum! I need to do a number 2.” “Yes?” She feigned ignorance of the importance of that statement. He cringed. “Mum!” He pointed to the nappy. “That’s no problem. Your nappy will hold anything you do. She went back to her book. Diane passed in the corridor and tittered at her brother’s discomfort.
He wanted to cry as the pressure built. In the end he had no option but to go up on all fours on his bed and allow the mess to fill his nappy. After a few minutes his mother came in. “All done?” she asked calmly. Jake sniffled as he nodded. “Good let’s get you changed then.”
Diane was only too happy to help her mother change Jake’s messy nappy. She helpfully held his clean nappy and plastic pants and held his legs up while her mother checked that his new nappy was fully tucked in.
Jake protested but was dressed in his pink baby dress and nappy cover again. “We can’t have you waddling around in just your nappy all day”, his mother insisted and his sister tittered. “We need to get his nappies washed”, she told Diane. “I’ll put them in the machine. Could you get out the old play pen and baby toys? He’ll need something to amuse him and I think baby toys are all he’ll be able to handle with those mittens.”
Diane was only too pleased to assemble the play-pen and fill it with dolls and rattles and blocks. Jake was reluctant to go into it of course. “Now you have to do what you are told if you want your nappy changed promptly”, his mother insisted. Jake sighed heavily as he waddled into the play-pen and sat down. Diane closed the side gate with a satisfying click.
“Can you get him something to drink?” her mother asked. “He can’t handle a cup so use the baby bottle.” Jake winced. Diane brought him milk – at least she hadn’t heated it. Then his mother spoon-fed him some cereal as he knelt at the side of his pen.
They went about their business and Jake stared unenthusiastically at the baby toys. When his mother was taking his nappies out of the washing machine she finally heard a tinkling from the play-pen. She smiled. For want of anything better to do, Jake tried out each of the rattles to see what noise they made. Diane giggled wondering how long before he would play with the dolls.
“Here, you can hang out your nappies to dry”, his mother told him. Jake looked up from his play-pen. He really didn’t want to go outside in his baby dress – especially after his last experience at the clothes line. His mother gave him a cross look reminding him that he had to do as he was told if he wanted his nappy changed promptly.
He got up and took the basket from her. She fetched his bonnet. At first he frowned but then realized it would help hide his face should anyone be looking over the garden fence. He allowed her to tie his bonnet under his chin.
He looked around nervously as he went out. There was no sign of anyone. He knew that when he reached up for the washing line he would expose his frilly nappy cover and anyone looking on would see that he was wearing a nappy. In his haste he dropped things a couple of times and had to bend over to pick them up. Each time he looked nervously over his shoulder – made more difficult by the lace-trim on his bonnet.
Finally he scampered back into the safety of the house. He was actually relieved to get back into his play-pen so he started playing with the blocks. His mother smiled at the fact that he was still wearing his bonnet and seemed not have noticed.
Betty Pearl's Sissy Stories 20.1
Topic: A Model Son (Read 102617 times)
