While Frank desperately wanted to be out of nappies and baby dresses, he wasnât sure that, following his public humiliation at the Mall, he could ever show his face outside the door again.
His mother and aunt werenât so inhibited. They managed to purchase a large stroller that they could strap him into to bring him down to the shops or out to the park. His initial attempts to foil this by dragging his feet on the ground were easily thwarted by means of Velcro straps that secured his ankles to the sides of his stroller. Thus he was firmly held in his stroller to be propelled wherever his mother, aunt or any of the local girls who regularly asked to take him out wanted to bring him. The girls would usually bring him down to the park to show him off to their friends.
The local babysitters club generously offered to look after Frank for free whenever his mother and aunt wanted a night out. When this happened he usually found that about half a dozen girls were eager to share the duties. He might have his soggy nappy removed by one girl, have another clean him with baby wipes , another powder his bottom, leaving others the tasks of pinning his clean nappy on and restoring his tights and nappy cover. All the time his poor little member pressed against its restraint so he couldnât feel any arousal, much to the amusement of the girls.
One day his aunt was rummaging in the attic when she found some old boyâs clothes. Frank looked at them glumly. Trousers were a dim memory at this stage. But he was astonished when his mother suggested letting him put the clothes on.
He wondered was he dreaming as his mother removed his mittens and bonnet, pulled the dress off him, then his nappy cover, the tights and finally unpinned his nappy. He couldnât believe the feeling of underpants on him! Then a shirt and trousers. His mother looked at him and smiled. She reached forward and pulled his soother out with a pop! Heâd forgotten about that.
He was free to go out the door. He wasnât sure that he wanted to face the public. âYou donât want to go back into your play-pen do you?â his mother asked rhetorically. Of course he didnât but ⌠Anyway he decided that he had to take the opportunity and go outside. His mother closed the door behind him.
It wasnât long before she heard girls laughing outside. Soon after there was an urgent banging on the door. When she opened it, Frank was clutching Annabelleâs hand. âHeâs wet his pants in front of all the girlsâ, she announced. She brought the blubbering boy in.
âOh sweetie, come over to the changing table.â Frank lay back as his mother removed his sodden pants. She noticed him looking at something. She followed his eye line and realised he was looking at his soother. âDo you want your doh-doh?â she asked. Frank cringed and didnât want to admit that he needed it but eventually he nodded. She pushed the soother into his mouth and he immediately nursed it eagerly.
When she had cleaned him up Annabelle reached for a nappy. âNnnnggghhh!â he protested. Heâd only been out of nappies for a few minutes. He desperately didnât want to be put in them again. But she ignored him and he had to accept that he needed a nappy now. As usual his member tried to enlarge as Annabelle pinned his nappy on. She giggled ânaughty boy, just as well we have that thing to keep you under control.â
Soon he was back in his baby dress, matching bonnet and nappy cover and tights. There was another whimper of protest when his mother strapped the mittens on his hands again. She led him into his play-pen and clicked the side bars shut. Frank flopped down.
âDonât worry sweetieâ, she said soothingly. Frank looked up hopefully at his mother and Annabelle. âI promise you we wonât EVER try that again. Iâll get your bottle.â As she turned away Frank considered the implications of what she had just said. She wonât ever put him in boyâs clothes again? She wonât ever let him out of nappies again? EVER?!!!
THE END
â for us maybe, but clearly not for Frank.