The Weaker Sex

[DaraJaney]

His Granny made him go to bed at eight o’clock as if he was a real toddler.  She brought him up to his room and unlocked the door.  On the bed was a pink fleecy sleep-suit.  As she removed his dress, nappy cover and tights, he looked at the sleep-suit with interest.  It would be the nearest thing to trousers that he had come across since that fateful day when he lost the arm-wrestle contest with his sister.



OK, so it was pink and fleecy but when he thought of the short flouncy dresses and nighties that had become his normal wear, this sleep-suit was comparatively attractive.



His Granny held it out for him to step into.  He hesitated and relished the imminent feeling of cloth against his legs.  He stepped into it and she pulled it up over his nappy.  He realised too late as she buttoned him in that he was obviously being put to bed still in the nappy.



As she buttoned up the front of the suit he noticed that it completely enclosed his hands and feet.  The hands of the outfit were made of some thick and slippery material.  When her back was turned, he discretely tried to handle the buttons at the front but realised that he couldn’t use his hands through the thick material.



He looked in the mirror.  He was covered in pink, apart from his head.  Even under the thick fleecy suit the outline of the thick bulge of his nappy was obvious.  His Granny pinned the soother to his sleep-suit and made him get into bed.



When she left, he lay there squirming in the suit.  Every time he moved within it he could feel it pull against his hands or feet or stretch around his nappy.



Eventually he settled down but it was hours before he went off to sleep.  Not long after, he woke anyway from the pressure on his bladder.  He knew that there was no point in asking his Granny if he could use the toilet.



He struggled again to get out of the sleep-suit but he was helplessly confined to it.  He lay there mournfully waiting until he could hold out no more and the warm pee spread all around his nappy.



When he was certain that he was all done, he got out of the bed and knocked on the door of his Granny’s room.  It took a second knock but he heard her ask “what is it?”



He opened the door and walked in, the soother dangling from his pink sleep-suit.  He just looked at her glumly.  â€śHave you a wet nappy dear?” she asked.  He nodded.  She got out of bed and walked over to him.  She took the soother in her hand and pushed it into his mouth.  He knew that he was in no position to argue.



She brought him downstairs and into the utility room.  He was surprised to see that she had set up an old table as a changing table.  There was a pile of a dozen or so nappies there.  He recoiled at the sight and whimpered through his soother.  Why did she need so many nappies unless she intended keeping him in them for a few days at least?



She ignored his distress and made him get up on the table.  He decided that he needed to get this wet nappy off anyway.  She took off his sleep-suit and made him lie back while she dealt with his nappy.



He had to raise and lower his bottom and turn over on instruction.  When he turned back she was already holding his next nappy.  He whimpered again through his soother desperately hoping that she would give him a reprieve.  But she ignored him and wrapped the clean nappy around him and pulled on dry plastic panties.



Soon he was buttoned back into his sleep-suit and was brought back up to bed.  He couldn’t shake off the image of that pile of a dozen nappies and slept little until morning.



When his Granny came in to the room in the morning, he got out of the bed.  She came over and he stood waiting for her to unbutton his sleep-suit.  



She went for the wrists on the suit.  She tightened a strap around his wrist and buckled it in place.  She did the same on the other hand.  She took the soother and pushed it into his mouth before unpinning it from the sleep-suit.  She then separated the rest of the suit from the mittens and took it off him.  His hands were obviously going to remain disabled.



She pulled on his tights, frilly nappy cover and the pink baby dress.  Then she added a matching bonnet and tied it under his chin.  He studied himself in the mirror.  He instinctively tried to push his fluffy petticoats down to hide the frilly nappy cover but to no avail.



He was forced to accept at this stage that he had to do everything he was told if he wanted his nappy changed.  She brought him down to the kitchen and sat him down.  When she placed a bowl of cereal in front of him, he knew that he couldn’t feed himself.



She took out his soother which was some relief but immediately presented a spoonful of cereal to his mouth.  He looked at her pitifully but knew from the determined look on her face that there was no point in arguing.  He let her spoon-feed him the meal.



Soon she was getting ready to bring him to the pre-school.  He stood in front of the hall mirror as she got her coat.  He knew that his new bonnet would cause great amusement at the pre-school as well as the fact that he would arrive suc-king on his soother and with his hands in disabling mittens.



Mrs. Collins was delighted to see him as were all the children.  His Granny handed her a baby bottle.  She pointed out the mittens and said “he’s helpless now and can’t feed himself to I’m afraid you’ll have to bottle and spoon-feed him.”  â€śThat’s no problem at all”, Mrs. Collins assured her and she clearly relished the prospect.  All the children sniggered.



Since the previous day they had acquired a play-pen to put him in.  â€śWe have to keep real babies in here”, Mrs. Collins told him.  He was confined to the play-pen for the rest of the day, apart from his nappy changings, while the three- and four-year olds ran around the room, occasionally looking over with amusement at the sixteen-year-old in the play-pen.



It was bad enough having to suc-k on a baby bottle of milk but it took ages to empty it and all the kids thought it was hilarious.

[DaraJaney]

He realised that sooner or later he would need to do a poo.  He knew better than to even ask if they might take the nappy off him and let him do it in the toilet.  He managed to hold off until he got home.



His Granny came into the front room to find him bent over.  She smiled in recognition of what was going on.  He paused before doing anything more in the hope of some reprieve.  She just continued to watch with interest.  He sighed and braced himself.  He pushed a little more and a stool slid out and plopped into his nappy.  Tears ran down his face.  But he had only started.



The result of holding it in for so long now came back to haunt him.  He spent a few minutes slowly filling his nappy with lots of very smelly poo.  Once the novelty had worn off, the smell drove his Granny from the room and she left him to it.



He had hoped that she would be disgusted at having to change a soiled nappy and wipe his bottom clean and that this would signal the end of his torment but she hummed happily right through the task and soon he was pinned in to a clean nappy.



The next morning he was concerned to find that his Granny produced a new baby dress.  This one was lilac with three tiers of flouncy lace.  It had matching bloomers, that also had three rows of lace all the way around and a bonnet similarly trimmed.  She also made him bring a large dolly to the pre-school.



That evening he lay back on the changing table and noted with some hope that there were only a few nappies left.  But later on his Granny came in from the back garden with freshly cleaned and aired nappies from the clothes line and restored the pile to its original number.



At the end of the week Mrs Collins confessed that the novelty of having a sixteen-year-old boy in nappies and baby dresses had worn off and been overcome by the disgust at having to change his nappies and they were afraid that they couldn’t take him anymore.  In front of several of the children she said “I’m afraid that all of our other children are out of nappies so we don’t generally have to handle that.  Mrs. Black’s crèche handles the real babies.  Maybe you can bring him there.”



All weekend Gabriel was troubled at the prospect of being brought to a creche with real babies.  But on Monday morning his Granny did not bring him anywhere.



Around ten o’clock there was a ring at the door. He heard his Granny talk to a lady in the front room.  Eventually she fetched him and brought him in wearing his lilac baby dress, bloomers and bonnet.  The lady looked disdainfully up and down at the boy and smiled at his white tights and frilly ankle socks as he suc-ked gloomily on his soother with his dolly tucked under his arm.



“Ms. Bailey has been recommended to me as a Nanny for you”, his Granny told him.  â€śShe starts today for a trial period.”  He looked at his new Nanny.  He reckoned that she was about thirty, blond and slim.  She wore a white blouse, black trousers and jacket.



While she looked quite attractive, he also noted a rather stern look once the amusement at his appearance had worn off.  She started by feeding him a bottle of milk.  It was clear that she would brook no resistance and had a very firm manner.



On his first changing since she arrived, she informed his Granny that she was going to shave off all the hair around his groin and use hair growth retardant to try to keep him that way.



His Granny was clearly impressed by the Nanny’s authority and told her to go ahead.  Gabriel lay there terrified to move as the razor whipped around close to his genitals.  He couldn’t help but wonder how long he was going to be kept in nappies.

 

The next day he overheard part of a conversation between the two women.  He heard the Nanny say something about the importance of fresh air and exercise.  The day after that, following his morning feed his Nanny produced a leather harness that she put over his chest and arms.  With her usual firmness she ignored his whimpers and continued to buckle him.



By this stage Gabriel knew that he had no choice in anything anymore so he braced himself as she pushed him out the door clutching his dolly and suc-king on his soother.



“There’s the sissy boy”, he heard someone call out as he walked down the road.  â€śIt’s true, he is being kept in nappies!” another person shouted.  He was mocked and taunted by people all the way to the park and back.  He tried to be brave but his Nanny had to take out a handkerchief and wipe his nose after the tears started flowing.



A few days later a pink wooden high-chair appeared at home.  Gabriel was made to sit up in it and his harness was fastened to the chair.  Then the tray was swung down in front of him and it locked into position.  With his hands constantly in the mittens he was unable to operate the catch on the tray so he was doubly restrained in the chair.



His Nanny seemed to love rubbing in his helplessness by leaving his food in front of him for a few minutes before tying his bib on and feeding him.  He was now on a diet of milky rusks or pureed vegetables but by leaving the bowls tantalisingly in front of him for a period he actually found himself longing for the food.



He grew increasingly concerned that his life was becoming more and more babyish practically every day.  But there was nothing he could do about it.  Any disobedience was easily dealt with by leaving him in a soiled nappy for a few hours and soon just the threat of it was enough to make him keep in line.

[DaraJaney]

One day he was aware that something was going on in his bedroom. Later on he was brought up to see that wooden side bars had been affixed to his bed.  His Granny lowered the bars and made him get in.  Then she replaced the bars and they clicked into place.  â€śNow, you can take a little nap”, she told him and handed him a teddy to cuddle.



He just lay there, not needing to sleep but looking gloomily out through the bars as he suc-ked on his soother and hugged his teddy.



A couple of days later his Granny announced that she was meeting up with his mother and sister and going on a month’s holiday.  Gabriel was taken aback and wondered what the implications for him were going to be.  â€śNanny will take good care of you”, she told him and he realised that he was going to be in nappies and baby dresses for another whole month – minimum.



His Nanny saw his Granny off and came in and looked at him in his high-chair.  â€śNow it’s just you and me”, she said.  He wondered if she meant anything by that.



The following afternoon he was idly playing with some bricks while sitting in his high-chair.  He started feeling the need to poo.  But he had hardly prepared himself for it when he just suddenly did a very messy one in his nappy.



As the following days progressed, this started to happen regularly.  He became to realise that whenever he felt the need now, it just happened and there would be nothing he could do to stop it.



His Nanny continued to insist that he take a nap after his lunch every day.  He gradually became used to this new routine and found himself nodding off shortly after he was put down.



He was also becoming used to being put to bed at eight o’clock and, in fact, he became quite sleepy and cranky if she delayed his bedtime by even a few minutes.  Apart from waking in the middle of the night to wet himself, he nearly always slept through until morning.



He was concerned at how quickly he was becoming used to this babyish treatment.  He tried to stay awake during his afternoon nap but just couldn’t.  He eventually came to just accept it.  One day he was very disturbed to wake after his nap to find that he was still suc-king on his soother and cuddling a dolly and presumably had done so all the way through.



A few days later, he was vaguely aware while he napped that he needed to do a pee.  He just let it go and dropped off back to sleep.  His Nanny was amused to find him wet when she woke him at the end of his nap.



He was quite distressed now that he clearly had little control over his toilet and actually needed to take regular naps.  He wondered if his Nanny was doing anything to cause all of this.



He watched carefully from his high-chair as she prepared his bottles or feeds but she usually had his back to him and he couldn’t see everything that was going on.  He became convinced that she was up to something but what could he do?  She determinedly stuck the bottle in his mouth and brooked no resistance to spoon-feeding him either.



She had also adopted a policy of rewarding him with sweet things if he acted like a real baby girl and punishing him with particularly foul combinations of mashed vegetables if he was anything short of compliant and babyish.



He really had no alternative but to try to please her and be a sweet pretty baby girl.  The worst part was on their walks to the park because he knew he would be rewarded with a lollipop if he convinced anyone they met that he loved being in nappies and baby dresses.  She also made him curtsey prettily to the lady in the shop before getting his reward.  The lollipop was so delicious, though, compared to the rubbery soother.



One day he started to wake from his afternoon nap.  It took him several minutes to waken now.  He heard voices but had to concentrate on waking up.  He stretched in the cot and suc-ked hard on his dummy.  He clutched his teddy to his chest again.  Then he tried to focus on the pink bars.



He realised that the second voice was his Granny’s.  He tried to look up at her from the cot.  â€śThere’s my pretty baby!  Did you have a lovely time with Nanny?”  He nodded automatically since he was now so used to giving the required responses.



“Oh is he wet?” she asked.  â€śYes, he always wets himself during his nap now”, his Nanny told her.  â€śReally?”



Gabriel gradually began to realise how this must look to his Granny.  She would see now that he obviously needed an afternoon nap, that suc-king on a soother and cuddling a teddy were now second nature to him and that he had lost control over his toilet and needed to be kept in nappies anyway.



His Nanny helped him to the kitchen and he was strapped into the high-chair for another bottle-feeding before he fully woke up.  The women were speaking in the front room.



Then they came into the kitchen and walked over to him.  His Nanny was clutching a sheet of paper and smiling broadly.  His Granny told him “great news.  Nanny has just signed a one-year contract to look after you.”



Gabriel’s eyes widened in shock.  A year!  They were going to keep him like a baby girl for a year.  He thought that they must be joking but Nanny held the sheet up in front of him.  He noticed another clause “with an option on a further year.”  He whimpered through his soother.  He looked pleadingly from one to the other and struggled against his harness.



They just ignored him.  He shook the tray of his high-chair, furious that they were not paying any attention to his protests.  His Nanny continued preparing his bottle. She came over and brusquely took the soother from his mouth and replaced it firmly with the bottle.



Tears streamed down his face as he realised that there was absolutely nothing he could do about all this.  He was firmly strapped in, his hands were completely disabled, his still soggy nappy was pinned around his bottom under plastic panties, tights and a frilly nappy cover.



He needed to wear a nappy now anyway and required regular naps.  He was totally dependent on his Nanny.  He started suc-king on his bottle and his Nanny smiled that his little tantrum had ended.

[DaraJaney]

A few days later a play-pen appeared.  For the first day he sulked unhappily within its confines missing the freedom of being able to waddle around the room.



He was kept in his play-pen at all times, except when strapped into his high-chair or put into the cot for his naps or taken out for a walk in public.



He actually came to look forward to his walks even though it meant that he was paraded around in front of the whole town. He became used to the taunts and comments.  He had no choice about his new life.  They dressed him in sissy clothes, kept him in nappies and pressed his hair into sausage curls.  What could he do about it?  Why should he feel ashamed?



That was fine in theory but he knew exactly what it must look like.  A seventeen-year-old boy seemingly delighted to be wearing pretty frilly baby dresses, contentedly suc-king on a soother and clearly needing to wear nappies.



One day when he was strapped into the high-chair waiting on his lunch, his Nanny showed him that she had a tub of his favourite honeycomb ice-cream in the fridge.  He knew that he would need to be especially good to be treated to a bowlful.



His Nanny gave him his bottle of warm milk.  He suc-ked on it happily anticipating the treat.  She let him hold the bottle up himself and he continued suc-king away.  At the end he tilted the bottle up pointedly to make sure that he had drunk every drop which would improve his chances of getting the delicious ice-cream.



As his Nanny spoon-fed him the spinach and cabbage mix his dangling legs jiggled about contentedly as the ice-cream treat drew nearer.  When the bowl was empty he shoved his soother in and eagerly suc-ked on it, knowing that this would please his Nanny.  His tummy was rumbling and he knew what was coming but he hoped it would hold off until he had his ice-cream.



When she reached for the fridge he bobbed up and down in the high-chair and clapped his hands in excitement.  She spooned out a bowlful and came towards him.  â€śDon’t you just love being a baby girl?” she cooed.  He nodded enthusiastically and giggled, prepared to do anything now to replace the bitter taste of spinach with the sweet, sweet ice-cream.



“Do you ever want to go back to being a big boy?”  He shook his head determinedly, his eyes glued to the bowl.  She started feeding him the ice-cream.  He kicked his legs happily and hummed as he savoured the taste.



“Let’s just turn you around”, his Nanny said as she rolled the chair around by 180 degrees.  His Granny, mother and sister were standing there with astonished looks on their faces.



He froze.  How long had they been there?  He thought back over the last few minutes and remembered all his cutesy acting the baby.



He could see that his mother and sister were more shocked than amused.  They took in his big pink lace-trimmed bonnet, the soother dangling from his baby dress that he had just been contentedly suc-king on, his pink tights and knitted booties.



He had forgotten about the ice-cream now.  â€śLet’s get you out of your high-chair”, his Nanny suggested and she flicked the catch on the tray and unbuckled his harness.



Gabriel seemed reluctant to get out of the chair and only responded when his Nanny tugged on the reins.  He very tentatively stepped down and slowly straightened up.  He watched the look on his mother and sister’s faces as his short baby dress revealed the copiously frilly panties and the unmistakable bulge of a nappy underneath.



His mother put her hand to her mouth.  â€śHe’s wearing a nappy!”  He thought that he was used now to these reactions but this was different.  Having shifted to a standing position this was enough to cause his bowels to react.  His mother started to ask a question.  She pointed at the nappy.  â€śDoes he …” but she was interrupted by the unmistakable sound of very messy poo filling his nappy.  This answered her question.



His mother and sister were shocked.  He stood there mortified, hoping desperately that they would want to take him away from all this.  He started bawling crying.  His Nanny pushed his soother in with a “there, there”.  She turned to them and suggested that he was upset at this reminder of his former life.  The use of this term made him cry harder.



“Anyway, if you excuse me, I have something to see to”, she said and they stood back as she led him from the room by the hand.  They watched her change his nappy.  They squirmed when they saw his mess and thanked goodness that they didn’t have to deal with it.



They saw how he fully co-operated by raising and lowering his bottom without order and that this was a well practiced routine.  He continued suc-king on his soother and started to get drowsy as usual after his lunch.



Once he was back in a clean nappy the Nanny helped him up to the bedroom for his nap.  He knelt in the cot as she clicked the side bars in place.  He looked anxiously at his mother.  â€śBye-bye now”, she said softly.  â€śIt’s just a flying visit.”



He whimpered through his soother and shook the bars, begging them with his eyes not to leave him there.  He was feeling drowsier though and sat back on his legs.  His mother gave him a sympathetic look.  â€śYou’re better off here”, she told him.  â€śThey have everything you need – a play-pen, high-chair, cot, changing table – everything.”



He shook his head desperately but started to fall down into the cot.  â€śSorry honey”, his mother said.  â€śWe shouldn’t have come.  You seemed so happy until you saw us.”



Gabriel tried to protest but he couldn’t keep his eyes open as he slumped down in the cot.  He suc-ked hard on the soother, hoping it would help keep him awake.



He heard his mother say to his Granny.  â€śWe’d better leave him with you and not come again and upset him.”  He tried to hold on to the bars and desperately wanted to plead with them not to leave him there.  But his feeble grip on the bars slipped away and he dozed off still suc-king on his soother.



His Nanny put the teddy under his arms and he instinctively squeezed it tight.  â€śBye bye honey”, he just about heard his mother say.  She saw him twitch slightly as he finally lost the struggle against the sedative but soon he was fast asleep curled up with his teddy.



[concluded]