Author Topic: Trouble about buns (Read 32161 times)

DaraJaney · « **on:** April 18, 2008, 03:13:06 AM »

Ann and Marie knew that Mrs. Diplock always made delicious little cherry buns at this time of year. When they were girl scouts and they called to her door selling cookies, she always brought them in for tea and buns and would then send them off with a big bag full. Everyone figured she was particularly fond of young teen girls because it was at that age that her daughter died, at least twenty years ago. But she knew that Ann and Marie were too old now for the scouts.

They wondered if they could get another girl scout to go for them. They could cut her in on a share of the buns. But they didn’t know of any around – it wasn’t so popular anymore.

So they tried to convince Ann’s younger brother Jack to dress up as a girl scout. Naturally he didn’t want to – even for delicious buns. “It’s not like you have to wear a dress or anything”, his sister told him. I still have my girl scout shirt and shorts. You’d only have to put on white ankle socks and tie your hair up in a ribbon.” “Yeah, the old lady’s a bit short sighted”, Marie lied.

They were encouraged that he didn’t completely rule it out. “Look we’ll keep an eye out that there’s nobody around. You only have to nip down to the next road, go into her house for a few minutes and come back. Simple as that.”

Jack didn’t look convinced but he didn’t say no. The girls pushed him into Ann’s room. She dug out her shirt and shorts. They were yellow and weren’t too girly. They coaxed Jack out of his clothes and into the uniform “just to see”, Marie said. “If you don’t like it, you don’t have to do it.”

They gave him a pair of ankle socks and tied his hair up with yellow ribbon on either side. He looked in the mirror. He might actually get away with it. The street was quiet in mid-afternoon. He loved scamming old people and had never got a chance with Mrs. Diplock.

Eventually, he agreed. Ann got some local shop-made cookies for him to bring. Mrs. Diplock might well recognise where they came from but Ann didn’t care too much, it was Jack’s neck on the line.

They checked that the coast was clear and Jack scampered quickly out the door, down the street and around the corner. Marie was watching the next road and beckoned him on.

He went up the street to Mrs. Diplock’s house, which was easily the biggest in the neighbourhood. He went up to the porch. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

Several locks were undone one by one as he waited nervously. She opened the door. She looked at him quite crossly. He wondered did she know. “Would you like to buy some cookies?” he said in his sweetest voice.

She looked him up and down carefully. He was terrified. “Come on in honey”, she said but there was still a note of doubt in her voice.

She brought him into the kitchen and told him to sit at the table. She plugged in the kettle. There was a tray of the famous buns on the table. She excused herself and left the room. Jack could hear her moving around upstairs.

On a side table there was a tray with a tea-cloth over it. The smell of fresh baking suggested to him that these were a fresh batch. He reckoned that there was plenty of room in the cookie box to stash a few more buns. He opened his box and put out a dozen cookies for Mrs. Diplock. He listened for a moment to make sure that she wasn’t coming down the stairs. He tip-toed over to the side table. He lifted the cloth and took as many as he could from the middle without it being obvious from the outline of the cloth that several were gone.

“What are you doing!”, came a stern voice from the doorway. Jack dropped a bun on the floor in fright. He stood looking guiltily at the floor. “You little brat! I don’t know about children these days. And girls too!” Jack reacted to that and she could see it.

She walked over to him with a curious look. “You are a girl are you?” Jack hesitated a bit before nodding his head but he wasn’t very convincing. She grabbed the front of his shorts and jerked them up. Jack went “ow” as his testicles, already cramped in the girl’s shorts were pressed against his body. Mrs. Diplock saw the outline under the shorts.

“You little whipper-snapper”, she shouted. Jack wrenched free and ran for the door. He tugged at the handle but she had re-secured the locks. She walked towards him and he backed against the door. “I should call the police.” Jack was terrified at this prospect. The local police chief was in the middle of a crack down on teenagers and several had been sent to juvenile prison.

“No please don’t!” he begged her. She squinted at him. She didn’t agree with prison for young boys, as it happened. But there had to be some way of punishing misdemeanours.

“So you want to dress like a girl do you?” she sneered at him. “No, it was just a trick” Jack explained. “I’m sorry.” “I’ll bet you are. Not as sorry as your gonna be though. I’ll show you how to dress like a girl!”

DaraJaney · « **Reply #1 on:** April 19, 2008, 03:15:30 PM »

She grabbed his hand and pulled him to a back room. Jack didn’t like the sound of this at all. The room was obviously her late daughter’s. It clearly hadn’t been touched since she died. It was still decorated with lacey curtains, pink bedclothes and a row of dolls lay propped against the pillows. Jack remembered hearing about her daughter. Everyone felt sorry for her because her mother insisted that she wear pretty dresses all the time right up to her teenage years which was not normal even at that time.

Mrs. Diplock pulled open a wardrobe. There was a row of pretty dresses all in pastel shades. She took out a pink dress with puffed sleeves, a Peter Pan collar and three rows of lace around the skirt. “How about this?” Jack’s face fell. “Please Mrs. Diplock, no! I’m really sorry. I promise I won’t do anything like it again.” “Like what?” she asked. “Dressing like a girl? You haven’t even done that properly yet. I’m just going to help you.” Jack winced. “Or would you rather I call the police after all.” Jack sighed.

She made him take off his uniform and he stood there in his briefs. She threw the pink dress over him. He co-operated reluctantly and soon he was zipped up. She smoothed down his dress and positioned him in front of the mirror. It was very short on him, only coming about half way to his knees.

She went to a chest of drawers and took something out. It was a pair of white tights. Jack winced again. She pushed him down on the bed and despite his pleas continued to pull the tights over both feet. She pulled them up under his dress. He looked morosely in the mirror again.

Now she had a pair of panties that were covered with rows of thin white lace. “Please Mrs. Diplock!” But she ignored him and soon he was wearing the panties. She went to the chest of drawers again while Jack faced the mirror again and leaned back and forth checking out how far he could bend without the panties being seen. It wasn’t very far.

She produced a pair of white ankle socks that had pink lace around the tops. She made him sit on the bed and pulled them on over his tights. Then she fetched a pair of patent leather t-bar shoes.

They both looked in the mirror and had to agree that he made quite a good pretty girl. Mrs. Diplock pulled the ribbons in his hair until they loosened and his hair fell free. He was surprised at this and concerned that he now looked like a boy in a dress.

“Come with me”, Mrs. Diplock ordered and she pulled him by the hand in to the bathroom. She positioned a chair in front of the sink and told him to sit there.

“What are you doing?” he asked. He was concerned that this was going too far. “Just sit,” she said sternly. Jack did what he was told. Then he had to sit again, brushing his dress under his bottom properly the second time.

She put a towel around his neck and made him lean into the sink. She ran a shower hose until it was warm. This is mad, Jack thought. She washed his hair and then started rubbing shampoo into it. Then she stopped the tap and started rubbing a lotion into his hair. He assumed this was a conditioner. Why was she taking all this trouble? It’s not like she wanted his hair to smell nice - the lotion stank.

Then she started twisting his hair around thin rollers quite roughly. “What are you .. ow!” “Sit still!” she scolded him. Jack was fairly sure that this was bad but there seemed to be nothing he could do. He yelped every time she tugged his hair too hard. “Now you know what girls have to go through.”

When she had all his hair tightly wound up in curlers she put this bag over it. She brought him into the kitchen. “Now, we were going to have a cup of tea.” She sat him down at the table. She plugged something in.

Jack wondered how long she was going to make him wear a dress. After a few minutes he got another funny smell. He realised that his head was getting quite hot. He looked behind him and saw that there were electrical wires running out from the bag on his head.

“What’s going on?” he demanded. “You just sit there and wait”, she ordered. Jack sat waiting for his tea but couldn’t help wondering what was going on under the bag.

The girls outside checked their watches. “What the hell is he doing?” “You’d think he’d want to be out as quickly as possible.”

When he was in there for over an hour, curiosity got the better of them. They sneaked down the side of the house. The kitchen window was too high to see in. They could hear Mrs. Diplock talking. “You may as well have another bun, since that’s presumably what you came for.” The girls looked at each other in puzzlement. “What had he been doing all this time?”

Marie’s nose wrinkled. “What’s that smell? It’s like burning.” Ann sniffed. “It’s like hair being singed.” Nothing much seemed to be happening so they went back to the road.

Mrs. Diplock took her time over the cup of tea and Jack must have been sitting there for well over an hour. “Now, let’s be having you”, she said finally. She unplugged the flex and brought him into the girl’s bedroom.

DaraJaney · « **Reply #2 on:** April 21, 2008, 06:10:59 PM »

He sat on the bed facing the mirror while she removed the bag from his hair. He looked at the curlers but it all looked just as it did when she put the bag on. She unclipped each roller one by one. Jack’s jaw dropped as he saw each ringlet spring out.

In the end he looked just like that girl down the road when she was doing the Irish dancing, except that she had a wig for that.

Jack was dumbstruck. Mrs. Diplock took two pink ribbons and tied up his ringlets on either side. He gave her a really sad look. She smiled back. “It’s OK. They’ll last for a good two weeks”, she said running her fingers through his dangling ringlets.

Jack jumped up. “What?!!!” Mrs. Diplock calmly packed away the rollers. “Yes, with those chemicals and the perm rods your ringlets will easily hold for a fortnight.”

Jack looked in the mirror again in disbelief. “You’re not serious.” She just looked at him and raised her eyebrows. “What I am supposed to do? I can’t go out looking like this. I thought you were just making me dress as a girl for the afternoon!”

“Oh being a girl for an afternoon wouldn’t do at all. You’ll need at least a fortnight to get an idea what it is really like.”

Jack was dumb-struck. He was transfixed by the mirror. He couldn’t believe the mass of ringlets, the pink dress, white tights and frilly ankle socks. He reached up to feel the ringlets. They felt steel-like and he really believed that she meant it. Then he realised that his panties showed when he reached up like that so he dropped his arms quickly and pushed down his dress.

“Now, it’s time we phoned your mother”, Mrs. Diplock announced as she left the room. “What?! No! Wait!” Jack followed her. “She’ll want to know where you are”, Mrs. Diplock explained. “Or if you prefer to go on home yourself, that’s fine.” Jack stopped looked down at his dress and tights and realised that he was not going anywhere if he could help it. He looked back in the room for his shorts but they were gone.

Mrs. Diplock picked up the phone. Jack opened all the wardrobes and drawers but all he found were pretty dresses and various lacey things that he didn’t know the name of but clearly wouldn’t want to wear.

“Mrs. Casey? Mrs. Diplock here. Would you mind coming over to my house please? Jack is here and I’m afraid he’s gotten himself into a little trouble.” Jack’s heart sank. Now his mother was going to see him like this.

Ann was surprised to see her mother come down Mrs. Diplock’s street. The girls dodged in behind a hedge. They peeped out and saw her walking up to Mrs. Diplock’s door. Ann put her hand to her mouth. “Shit! He must have been rumbled!” The girls giggled at the thought of Jack being caught in the girl scout uniform.

But Jack would have given anything for that uniform now. He sat in Mrs. Diplock’s kitchen in the pink dress. His head was down in humiliation with the annoying result that the ringlets dangled at the edge of his vision.

He tensed when he heard the knock on the door. There was no going back now. His mother was going to see him in the pink dress and tights with his hair in ringlets.

Mrs. Diplock showed her into the kitchen. She looked in puzzlement at the girl at the table in the frightfully frilly dress. And those ringlets! She hadn’t seen a girl in ringlets in years - apart from that Irish dancer, but they weren’t real.

Jack slowly looked up. His mother put her hand to her mouth when she realised. “What ..?” She didn’t know where to start. Why was her son wearing a pink dress, white tights, frilly ankle socks and t-bar shoes and why was he wearing that wig of ringlets? Jack looked down again.

“He arrived here wearing these.” Mrs. Diplock held up the girl scout uniform and Jack longed to be wearing it again. “Pretending to be a girl scout so he could rob some buns.” His mother was shocked. He had never done anything like that before. He was good as gold. Not like his older sister.

“So I thought I’d teach him how to dress properly like a girl”, Mrs Diplock continued. “He didn’t want me to call the police but he had to be punished in some way.” “Yes … quite…” his mother said, still not quite coming to terms with the shock. “Well, I’m sure he’s learned his lesson”, she said, trying not to smile now. He really did look cute.

“But could you give him those clothes back now and I’ll bring him home?” She turned towards Jack. You’re certainly grounded for a fortnight. Jack thought ruefully that he wouldn’t mind that compared to being stuck with these ringlets.

“I don’t think so”, Mrs. Diplock countered. She held up the shorts and cut through them with a scissors. Jack was appalled. He had nothing to wear but the dress now. She really was getting her revenge big time.

“OK”, his mother said when she’d recovered from the surprise. Mrs. Diplock was clearly unhinged. “I guess you’ll have to come home like that then.” Jack sighed. “It won’t be so bad if you take off that horrid wig.” Jack sagged visibly in the chair.

“What?” his mother asked. She looked to Mrs. Diplock. “It’s not a wig”, she said. His mother looked at him again. She went over and took a bunch of ringlets in her hand. She sniffed them and winced. “Oh my goodness! You’ve given him a perm!” Mrs. Diplock looked a little sheepish. “Well maybe I got carried away but it just didn’t seem right that he could walk away and not be properly punished.”

His mother thought that this was all a bit extreme for nicking a few buns but she supposed she was grateful that the police hadn’t been called. “Right, well, you’d better come along now”, she said to Jack. He didn’t budge. “I can’t go out like this”, he said holding the hem of his dress out. “And even if I go home and change into my normal clothes, there’s still this”, he continued, holding a bunch of ringlets.

“You can stay here for the fortnight”, Mrs. Diplock suggested. Jack looked up. That wasn’t an enticing prospect but none of his options seemed great. His mother thought about it. “Actually, that seems like a suitable punishment”, she concluded. “You’re right, he shouldn’t just get away with it. He’s yours for the two weeks and maybe he’ll learn to be a good boy.” She smiled. “Or even a good girl.”

So that was it. Jack was going to have to stay with Mrs. Diplock and wear her daughter’s pretty dresses for a fortnight. It was an appalling prospect but any other option was even worse. He couldn’t go out until his hair was back to normal.

DaraJaney · « **Reply #3 on:** April 22, 2008, 07:42:09 PM »

So his mother left and Jack had to get used to the idea of dressing like a girl for two weeks. He was also going to have to spend a lot of time in that sissy bedroom. He scanned the bookshelves for something to read but they were all girly books. But Mrs. Diplock had no TV so after a while he had little choice but to start reading “Little Women”. At least it was a classic.

When it came to bedtime Mrs. Diplock came into the room with a bunch of white ribbons. She sat on the bed and patted the duvet beside her. Jack sat down. She started to tie his ringlets up with the ribbons. “What’s that for?” he asked. “So they won’t lose shape over night”. “But I don’t really mind if they do, do I?” Jack countered. “Oh they’ll just look all scraggily if you leave them loose.” She showed him how to do it and made him finish tying his ringlets up himself.

She insisted that he should only remove the middle two dolls from the bed and he had to sleep in between the others. He realised that the room was a shrine to her dead daughter so he didn’t dare to argue but he felt dumb lying there with all those dolls around.

The next morning Mrs. Diplock came in to select his outfit. Jack watched nervously from the bed. She picked out a sky blue dress that wasn’t too fancy. He was somewhat relieved and got out of bed. She handed him the dress and he laid it on the bed.

When he ran his hands under the hem to put it on, he felt something. He lifted the hem and saw that there was a lace-trimmed slip attached. He sighed. Mrs. Diplock was rooting around in the drawer. When his head emerged through the dress she was holding up a pair of white tights. He winced. She gave a rueful smile and decided to be nice to him. She returned the tights to the drawer and took out a pair of knee-high socks.

As Jack pulled the socks up he considered what a state he was in that he was relieved to be able to wear a blue dress with knee-high socks. He looked in the mirror. The damn ringlets! He’d nearly forgotten about the ringlets until he saw all the ribbons tied tightly in his hair. He spent the next ten minutes untying them and watching his perfectly preserved ringlets spring into place.

After breakfast he idled around the house. “Now, you might as well make yourself useful”, Mrs Diplock told him. He would do almost anything to relieve the boredom. She was holding a floral dress. She turned up the hem. “The lace trim has come away here. I’ll show you how to sew it back.” Jack frowned but it was better than nothing. Who was going to see anyway?

She made a start to demonstrate and then left him to finish it. After a few minutes she said “you might as well sit out in the garden and do that.” He gathered up the dress, needle and thread and took it out the back of the house. He looked around nervously as he went out but no other house overlooked the garden.

He sat at the garden bench and continued on the lace. After a few minutes he heard tittering. He looked up from his sewing. He caught a flash of movement behind the shrubs. There was more tittering. He was sure he recognised it.

Ann and Marie’s heads popped up out of the shrubs. They snorted with laughter. “Those ringlets, ahh!” Jack sighed and put down his sewing. “I didn’t know you could sew”, Marie sniggered from behind the bush. He was tempted to give them away. “Go away or I’ll tell”, he whispered. “You’ve got me in enough trouble already.” There was more laughter. “Alright. Enjoy your fortnight in pretty dresses.”

With that they sneaked out of the garden and left him to his sewing. It didn’t take him long. Mrs. Diplock produced another dress that needed mending. This was a yellow gingham party dress and several of the decorative buttons and bows were hanging by a thread.

He started working on it and then paused. He realised why she was getting him to mend these dresses. He held up the yellow dress realising that he was probably going to have to wear it at some stage during the two weeks. And here he was making sure it had all its buttons and bows. He sighed heavily and continued.

He was an active boy and couldn’t sit still. When Mrs. Diplock complained about his restlessness, he said that he missed getting any exercise. She produced a skipping rope and told him to go out in the garden. He sighed and looked at it distastefully. “It’s the only exercise you’ll get around here”, she told him.

He went out in the garden. It took him a while to get the hang of it but he was soon able to skip quite well. He stopped suddenly on hearing more sniggering. They were back. “Love your cute frilly slip”, Marie taunted him. He stomped off inside.

The rest of the week continued in much the same vain. He tied up his ringlets each night, wore a new outfit every day and amused himself with books and the occasional skipping. His sewing had progressed to embroidery. But he stayed inside while doing this, afraid that the girls would see him.

DaraJaney · « **Reply #4 on:** April 23, 2008, 04:11:42 PM »

On Sunday morning Mrs. Diplock opened the curtains in his room. “We’ll be going to see your family today.” Jack sat up in shock. “I arranged it with your mother last night. She’s cooking dinner.”

This meant that he was going to have to go out in public. “No please, I’m fine here.” “It’s alright”, she assured him. “I’ll drive around so nobody will see you.” That was some consolation.

She went to the wardrobe and took out the yellow gingham dress. Jack cringed. She zipped him into the dress. All the ribbons stood out perkily as testament to his sewing ability. She handed him a pair of white tights. He winced and gave her a pleading look. “It’s Sunday”, she explained, “you have to wear your best”. He reluctantly took the tights and put them on. Then she made him put on matching frilly panties and she produced a pair of ankle socks with yellow trim.

Then she took from the wardrobe a paper nylon petticoat. Jack looked at it blankly. Oh no! he thought. The petticoat rustled loudly as she pulled it up under his dress. He looked in the mirror. His skirts were now so wide that they extended beyond the width of the mirror. She was really going to town on him today.

He went to sit at the mirror to untie his ringlets. It took him quite a while to arrange his petticoats in the chair. Mrs. Diplock said something to him but he couldn’t hear over the noise of the petticoats. She plugged something in and sat beside him. When he untied the first ringlet she took it and wrapped it around a curling tongs. “Hey, I don’t want them to last any longer than necessary”, he protested. “Oh it’s just freshening them up a bit, they still won’t last more than another week.”

After she did the first few she handed him the tongs and he found himself refreshing his ringlets. When it came to the time to go she handed him a pair of white gloves. He put them on somewhat unhappily but they were hardly as bad as some of the other stuff he was already wearing. The tights, panties and layers of petticoats were making him quite hot and sticky down there. Finally she handed him a white shoulder bag.

As he walked through the door, his petticoats caught on both sides before squeezing through. His sisters were going to love this, he thought as he headed towards the front door.

He braced himself before heading out. Mrs. Diplock looked up and down the street and said “come on”. He decided that the best thing was to rush out and into the car as quickly as possible.

He trotted out and skipped around to the passenger door. He opened it quickly and went to get in. But he spent the best part of a minute trying to arrange his petticoats around him without them sticking out the door.

At his own house he looked up and down the street before getting out of the car. He hopped out and trotted up the stairs. A gust caught his petticoats and blew him back down two steps. He grabbed his skirts and forced his way up. Then he rushed in the front door.

He’d been so concerned to get in quickly that he’d forgotten what he was about to face. His mother, sister and Marie, who had come along especially to gawp at him, whooped it up. Jack stood cringing in front of them as they rushed forward and started feeling around his petticoats and ringlets.

When the fuss had died down, he went to walk towards a chair. Ann suddenly pulled up his petticoats at the back. “Look at those frilly panties!” Jack jumped away from her and smoothed his dress down again, scowling while he clutched his shoulder bag.

He had to endure a whole day of comments about how he made such a pretty girl and how they really should keep him in dresses. Mrs. Diplock produced his embroidery and they were highly amused at his proficiency. His mother insisted that he continue working on it while they chatted away.

His mother couldn’t resist it. He was working on his embroidery, sitting perfectly erect with his skirts carefully arranged around him and with his feet daintily tucked in under his chair. “Smile”, she blurted suddenly. He looked up in shock and the camera flashed. He was dying to get back to the peace of Mrs. Diplock’s house.

He spent the rest of the week there. He just kept his head down, wore the dresses, read Bronte books, continued with his embroidery. He just had to get through one more Sunday and he was home free. He flicked through the dresses in the wardrobe wondering which one she would want him to wear. There was one under wrapping. He carefully pulled off the wrapping to reveal a pink pageant dress dripping with lace and sequins. He replaced the wrapping quickly and prayed.

DaraJaney · « **Reply #5 on:** April 24, 2008, 03:57:20 PM »

On Sunday morning, he was sitting on the side of his bed, watching Mrs. Diplock go for the wardrobe. She took out the covered dress and he sighed. “Something really special today!” Jack felt sick.

“And your mother tells me that your cousins will all be there.” Jack, for the umpteenth time looked up in shock. His four male cousins would murder him. He would never live it down. They would tell everyone. He looked at the pageant dress and could picture them chasing him around the garden trying to see his frilly panties.

Suddenly he felt this warm feeling around his groin. What was wrong? He hadn’t even put on any tights or panties or petticoats yet. He looked down and watched a wet patch spread out from his groin area. The prospect of facing his cousins in that dress had made him wet himself.

He jumped up from the bed. “What the …?” Mrs. Diplock saw that he had wet himself. She grabbed him and pulled him to the bathroom before he got it all over the place. His nightdress and panties were soaked.

She stripped him and wiped him down. He stood nervously in front of her completely naked. “Stay there”, she told him.

She returned with what appeared to be towels. She started to wrap one around his bottom and Jack realised that she was putting him in a cloth nappy. “No please!” He tried to get away but she had him pinned in already. She made him step into a pair of plastic pants and pulled them up over his nappy. “Please don’t make me! It was just the fright when you said my cousins would be there. They will make my life hell.”

“There’s no way I’m letting you pee all over my daughter’s beautiful pageant dress”, she explained. She brought him back to the bedroom. “I won’t, I promise.” He didn’t want to wear the stupid dress anyway!

She stopped and turned to him. “If the thought of facing your cousins in a dress made you wet yourself, what do you think is going to happen when you actually do!” Jack thought about this. Her logic was incontrovertible.

She pulled a pair of powder pink tights up over his nappy, followed by white satin panties with three rows of two-inch lace across the bottom and a big pink bow in the centre. He was resigned to his fate. She pulled the dress down over his head and zipped him up.

Then she put the pink frilly ankle socks on him. She unwrapped a pair of shining black high-heeled shoes. He looked at them morosely as she strapped them on his feet. She told him to walk across the room. He stood and almost immediately fell forward. He steadied himself and wobbled across the room. It didn’t help that the nappy spread his legs apart more than was natural. “You’ll get used to them. Keep practicing.”

He walked back and forth across the room. He heard a strange rustling. He stopped. It stopped. He started again and it started again. He realised that the plastic pants over his nappy were crinkling loudly. People would hear it and they might realise that he was in a nappy! This was just getting worse and worse.

Mrs. Diplock made him sit in front of the mirror to untie his ringlets. She handed him the curling tongs. He was relieved that they no longer had much bounce and he was satisfied that the tongs would just ensure that they held up for the day. She clipped a big pink bow to the top of his head and he appeared to be all set.

He stood up from the seat and froze as he heard the plastic pants rustle. He had an idea. He somewhat embarrassedly asked could he wear the nylon petticoats. He figured their rustling would drown out the plastic pants. Mrs. Diplock was pleasantly surprised and happily took out the petticoats and helped him arrange them under his dress.

He sat in the car terrified of how his cousins were going to react. He looked like the sissiest girl he had ever seen.

They gave him a torrid time. They teased him mercilessly about his dress, his petticoats, his ringlets, his tights, his frilly socks, his high heels. All the time he just prayed that they wouldn’t find out that he was wearing a nappy.

He drank a steady stream of juice all day without thinking of the consequences. When he became aware of his bladder, he realised that he couldn’t just go to the toilet. He could probably take off his nappy but he wasn’t at all sure that he could put it back on again. With all the teasing he was getting it was entirely possible that he might wet himself again.

He decided to sit it out but it became obvious that he wasn’t going to last until he got back to Mrs. Diplock’s. He tried to maintain his composure while he wet his nappy. A warmth spread right around his bottom. He realised that Marie was talking to him. “Mmm?” She gave him a funny look, wondering what had distracted him.

It came to the time to go. Jack was so relieved to be getting out of this hell. Tomorrow he’d be back in his boy’s clothes. The noisy petticoats had successfully ensured that nobody noticed his nappy.

He went out the front door, anxious to get in to the car quickly. As he trotted down the steps, one of his heels caught on a step and he fell forward onto the ground. His dress and petticoats flew up. There was a gob-smacked silence behind him.

He tried to push down his petticoats. “Is he wearing a nappy?” his mother asked. The others gathered around the doorway. Jack picked himself up. He smoothed down his skirts. Mrs. Diplock did not contradict his mother. They all started roaring laughing. “I’m afraid that he had a little accident this morning.” Jack brushed down the knees of his tights where they were marked in his fall. As he bent over he felt the pee slosh around in his plastic pants. He straightened up again carefully.

Mrs. Diplock went towards the car and Jack followed, absolutely humiliated now that everyone knew he had been wearing a nappy.

DaraJaney · « **Reply #6 on:** April 25, 2008, 03:32:13 PM »

When she got him into the house he had to tell her that he had wet his nappy. “I suppose it’s not surprising”, she said. “I didn’t wet myself from any shock”, he said. “It was just a regular … one.”

She brought him into the bathroom to take off his wet nappy. “Then why didn’t you tell me when you needed to go?” “I didn’t …”. He didn’t know what to say. He had been too intimidated by her to ask.

She removed his nappy and wiped him down. “I don’t know”, she said. “I think you’ll have to wear a nappy overnight. I’m worried about you.” He begged and pleaded but she insisted on putting him in a clean nappy.

He lay in the bed unable to sleep because of the unfamiliar thick nappy around him. He got up to get a drink. Mrs. Diplock heard him and asked what was up. He explained that he couldn’t sleep because of the nappy. He hoped she would let him out of it but she told him to go back to bed.

She came into the room with a bottle and spoon. “This will help you sleep.” She gave him a spoonful of a mixture she still had from her daughter’s days.

She looked in on him after ten minutes or so. He was sleeping, but fitfully. Perhaps she hadn’t given him quite enough. But she couldn’t give him another spoonful in his semi-conscious state. She rummaged around and found some old soothers. She picked the one with the biggest mouth guard. She dipped it in the mixture and put it in his half-open mouth. He suc-ked on the soother instinctively and turned on his side.

She left him for a while. When she looked in again, he was still on his side. The soother had fallen out of his mouth. He twitched a little but appeared to be sleeping. She took the soother and dipped it in the mixture again. She left it, teat up on the pillow beside him in case he needed a top up.

He woke in the morning. He knew it was morning but he couldn’t really wake up properly. He was still tired. His hand touched the soother on the pillow. He instinctively remembered the effect it had the previous night and he slipped it into his mouth.

He began to slip off to sleep again. But then he realised that he need to go to the toilet. He tried to get up but flopped back on the bed. Then he remembered that he was wearing a nappy. He smiled and proceeded to wet himself. He gave a couple of suc-ks on his soother and slipped off to sleep again feeling all warm around his bottom.

The doorbell rang. His mother had come over with his boy’s clothes. Mrs. Diplock told her he hadn’t got up yet. They went into his room. His mother was shocked to see him with a soother is his mouth and one of the dolls under his arm. Mrs. Diplock was somewhat surprised herself.

“I’m sorry, I gave him something to help him sleep last night. It’s hard to get the dosage right.” She explained about the soother.

Jack moved in the bed. He suc-ked on the soother hoping for more sleep. Mrs. Diplock pulled back the duvet. She pulled up his night dress and saw that he had wet his nappy. His mother gasped.

Jack stirred again. He was aware of people in the room but couldn’t wake himself. The two women slipped a plastic sheet under him so that they could change his nappy. They put him in a clean nappy and tucked him back into the bed.

By lunchtime he was still tossing but was unable to wake himself properly. Mrs. Diplock noticed that his mouth was all dry. She fetched a baby bottle and filled it with milk. His mother raised her eyebrows on seeing her come in with the bottle but she had to agree that it was the only safe way to feed him.

Mrs. Diplock removed his soother and put the teat of the bottle in his mouth. He suc-ked gratefully on the bottle, just happy to get something to drink and blissfully unaware how it all looked in his semi-conscious state.

When the milk was finished he dropped off to sleep again. Still clutching the dolly. He smacked his lips instinctively a few times. Mrs. Diplock picked up the soother and looked at his mother. She nodded her to go on so she put the soother in his mouth and he accepted it.

By the evening, they were able to get him to sit up in the bed but he was still too weak to raise his arms. His mother spoon-fed him some mashed potatoes. Soon after that he soiled himself. They settled him back down in the bed for the night after his nappy change.

The next morning Mrs. Diplock came in to find him on the floor beside the bed. His nappy was wet and cold. She presumed that he had tried to get up in the night but still wasn’t strong enough.

When his mother came over they moved him to Mrs. Diplock’s bed for a while. He tossed and turned at the noise of the drill in the next room. Once again the soother seemed to do the trick even though she was no longer dipping it in the mixture.

They helped him back to his bed. He was just about able to put one foot in front of the other. He looked up when he entered the room. They had attached side bars all around the bed. “Mmppff?” he asked though the soother.

“I’m sorry honey but you fell out of the bed last night. It’s to keep you safe.” His mother removed the bars at the side and Mrs. Diplock sat him into the bed. She lay him down and they replaced the side bars.

He looked up sadly at them. “I’m sure you’ll soon be back to normal”, his mother assured him with a smile. “It’s just for a little while.” Jack looked down at his nappy. The women could see the damp patch spread as he wet himself.

He started crying with frustration as they were changing him. “It’s OK honey.” Mrs. Diplock looked around. He was still nursing his dummy. She found the doll he was holding the previous night and gave it to him. In his confused state he clutched it to his chest.

They continued feeding him milk from the baby bottle and spoon-feeding him some potatoes mashed with other vegetables.