Mitch

[Sandra B]

170.
Friday evening arrived all too soon.  After supper, Luke was led into the bathroom, where he was bathed in scented soapy water, patted dry, and brought into the lounge to be dressed.
“You want to look your best tonight, Luke,” said Tessa.  “Which one of the girls do you think likes you the best?  I think it must be Helen.  She’s the one who seems to be making the running.  What’s she like?”
Luke wanted to tell her that Helen was in point of fact a sly, scheming bitch.  But he guessed it would only rebound on him, when she put on her caring, virtuous act.
“You know.  Typical teenage girl.  They’re pretty much all the same.”
“Oh, Luke!  I think you like her…”
He sighed impatiently.  Georgia was already fussing about with his outfit for the evening. 
“You’ll look really special, dear.  I’ve chosen things that will suit your complexion, your eyes and your lovely ringlets.  But first we’re going to put you in a nice thick nappy.”
Luke screwed up his fact, and was about to object, but Georgia cut him off.
“No arguments!  I want you to look nice for Helen’s mother.  So you’re going to be dressed properly, with a proper nappy to show off your rompers to best effect.  You’d better make sure your polite and well-behaved, too.  And don’t slouch like that!  Now, lie down, please.”
Wearily, Luke lay on the carpet and allowed her to encase his abdomen in a heavy towelling nappy, secured with a big silver safety-pin.  To keep it in place, she produced a pair of elasticated pants in natural latex.  Then came a long-sleeved yellow stretch cotton top with a frilled round collar and frilled cuffs.  Then on went his blue rubberised rompers with the yellow buttons.  The ensemble was completed with his matching bonnet, short yellow socks and blue sandals.
“There!  If they don’t fall in love with you at first sight…”
“All three of them,” added Tessa.

“Now I’ve packed you a rucksack with everything you need,” said Georgia.  “I’ve put in spare dummies, your cuffs and dummy-strap in case you’re naughty – don’t make that face, Luke!  Yes, I’ve told Helen’s mummy she can use them if necessary, so that’s why I warned you to be on your best behaviour.  There’s spare pull-ups, rubber pants, everything in case you need to be changed – don’t pout at me, Luke, or I’ll give you a smack on your leg!  Stand still while I tie this dummy to your button.  See?  I even went out of my way to find a blue dummy and a pretty yellow ribbon!  I don’t know, the things we do for you…”
“Don’t be ungrateful, Luke,” added Tessa.  “We just want you to look nice for your friends.  You don’t seem to have hooked up with anyone at school yet, so we thought you’d be glad to be friends with Helen and Sandy.”
It wasn’t that he hadn’t had offers.  Girls were falling over themselves to invite him to their homes.  How many of them said, “Oh, my mummy’s just dying to meet you…”  In other words, she was nostalgic for when her kids had been babies, and he would be the perfect substitute for their affection.  No thank you!  Though sometimes, if it was a girl he really liked, he had been tempted to take the risk.  But the one he would really have liked to be friends with was, oddly enough, the girl he shared a desk with.  Clara Uttley had never laughed at him, or teased him.  She had treated him like a friend from day one.  She was pretty, in a quiet sort of way.  An oval face with calm brown eyes, cheeks that were always slightly pink – and it wasn’t makeup – and straight, shiny, light brown hair cut in a simple bell.  She had a pleasing serenity about her.  She never seemed to get fussed, but did everything in a measured way – never jumped about or squealed or shouted like some of the more immature members of the class.  He respected her for what he perceived as an inner strength, and he noticed also that she was respected by the teachers.  He couldn’t have asked for a better partner.  She was always pleasant to him, but then she was the same to everyone.  He couldn’t fathom her.  She was self-contained without being introverted.  But apart from the odd enquiry about his past life, and particularly about P & S, she didn’t appear to have any real interest in him.  Except…  What was it?  Except it was as if they had an unspoken understanding.  He couldn’t explain why he sensed that, but he felt if he were ever in real trouble, he could approach her and she would help.
However, the two…miscreants he was going to meet that night were the polar opposite.  Cheeky, mischievous, rude, opportunist.  Yes, that about summed them up.  When Tessa parked the car outside Helen’s house, he had to steel himself to open the door.  He followed his guardians up the front path.  The door opened before they’d even had time to knock.  Helen’s mother.  And exactly the sort he had anticipated.  Rather overweight, untidy hair partially dyed red, and just a little too effusive.
“Oh, ladies!  Lovely to meet you!  I’ve hear so much about little Luke from my daughter, I couldn’t wait to meet him….”
“Nice to meet you, too, Mrs…er…”
“Braithwaite.  But do please call me Emma.”
She showed them in, and called up the stairs.
“Helen?  Sandy?  Luke is here!”
A brief pause, and then the two girls came galloping down the stairs, Helen in the lead.
“Oh my god, Luke.  You wore them!  Good boy!  Aren’t they just darling, mum?  I told you, didn’t I?”
“You did, sweetie.  Yes, he’s just so…cute!  Ladies, would you like a coffee or something…?”
“Thanks, but as you’re babysitting, Tessa and I have booked a restaurant.  Forgive us, but we need to get going.”
“No problem.  Shall we talk in the morning.  I can drop him back whenever convenient…”
“Let’s do that.”
They said their farewells, and Luke was left in the dubious care of the girls.  If he had hoped for any protection from Helen’s mother, it soon became clear that he was going to be disappointed.  Sandy has already slipped his phone out of its pocket.
“You don’t mind if I borrow this for a bit, do you Luke?”
“Yes!  Give it back!  Mrs Braithwaite, tell her to give it back!”
“Well, maybe…”
“Don’t worry, Emma.  I only need a few minutes.”
“Yeah, mum, don’t worry.  Sandy’ll  give it back.”
“There, Luke.  She just wants to borrow it, that’s all.  Now, what would you like to eat?”
“But…”
“We’ve got pasta, pizzas, chips…  What do you feel like?”
“Helen?  Where’s she taking it?  Why is she taking it upstairs?  Make her give it back!”
“Shh, baby!  Calm down.  Come into the living-room so I can have a proper look at your rompers.  Come on.”
Helen dragged him through the door and made him stand in front of the sofa.  She sat down and began to examine the material.
“Feel this, mum.  Real rubberised satin.  And underneath…”  She pulled open up one leg.  “Look!  Little latex pants over his nappy, in case he wets himself.  See?”
“Goodness.  Luke, darling, you have real baby clothes.  But in your size.  How sweet!  No wonder Helen and Sandy want to play with you.  I mean, you’re a bit younger and all that…not like their main friends…but being a big boy baby…  That makes you rather unusual, doesn’t it?  Special.  You can come and stay anytime.  You three will have so much fun together, I know.  Don't worry, I'm not a very strict mother...  We don’t have many rules here, you know…  Though Georgia did say we shouldn’t hesitate to discipline you if you start getting out of hand…”
“We’ll take care of that, mum, don’t worry.”
“Of course, dear.  He’s your baby, after all.  I’ll leave him in your capable hands.”
“But…  I’m not going to misbehave, Mrs Braithwaite, I swear…”
“I’m sure you won’t, darling.”  She laughed.  “I suspect you’ll find Helen and Sandy quite strict parents, so obedience would be the best policy…”

Luke frowned with dismay.  What sort of a mother was she?
But at that moment Sandy returned, with a confident smile on her face.
“Here you are, baby.  Phone.  Keep it safe.”
“W-what have you done to it?”
“Nothing.  Nothing at all.”
“Mum?” said Helen.  “Can we have something to eat?”

[Sandra B]

171.
There was no high chair, but nevertheless the girls insisted on feeding Luke, and gave him lemonade in a baby bottle, forcing him to drink by squirting it into his mouth.  After supper they took him upstairs, leaving Mrs Braithwaite chatting endlessly on the phone to some friend who she called “Tipsy” – whether a name or a condition was not clear – and, oblivious of Luke’s embarrassment,  relaying to her a detailed account of his appearance and behaviour.  Helen brought the accessories bag with them, and they sat Luke on the floor of her bedroom while they examined the contents.  He noticed that the far wall opposite the bed had been covered with posters advertising baby products, and that there were dolls and stuffed animals and a blue plastic baby’s potty on the floor.  He looked at them suspiciously.
“Do you like our little collage?” smiled Helen.  “We wanted you to feel relaxed and at home here during your stay.”
“Here are his cuffs, for when he’s being a bad baby,” grinned Sandy.
“Let’s see if they fit, shall we?” suggested Helen.  “Here baby, hands behind your back, there’s a good boy…”
“No!  I haven’t done nuffing wrong!”
“No, but you will, if we don’t take proper measures.”
“Please…”
“Hands behind your back!”
“No!”
Helen looked at Sandy.  “Right.  He’s asked for it.”
“What?”
“Sandy will show you.”
“Luke?  Remember that video we took of you at the playground…?”
“What about it?”
“Well, sweetie, I’ve uploaded it to my laptop.  See?”
She played the video to remind him.  He pretended not to look, but he saw and heard enough and it was not comfortable viewing.
“So what?”
“I also uploaded all your contacts from your phone.”
“What?”
“I know, it was a breach of your privacy, but…”
“Don’t you dare…!”
“Of course not, Luke.  Just so long as you behave, and play your part as our little baby, you have nothing to fear.”
“You…bitches!”  He couldn’t help himself.
“There.  Now that’s what I mean.  That’s exactly why we need this.  What do you think, Helen?  Shall we send it to one contact at random?”
“Maybe two.  Teach him a lesson.  Don’t fuc-k with us, baby Lukie, or…”
“No!  Please!  I’m sorry!  I didn’t mean it – I’ll do whatever you want.  See?”
He thrust his hands behind his back.
Sandy looked thoughtful.  “What do you think, Helen?  Should we let him off this time?”
“Well…”
“Please!  I’m sorry!”  Though he was furious about what Sandy had done, he knew he had to conceal it under total submissiveness.  None of his friends knew what was going on with him.  If even one of those contacts saw that video…  “Punish me any way you want!  I’ll be really, really good from now on…”
His pleas and servile demeanour gratified the girls.
“All right,” said Helen.  “We’ll give you a chance.  But it’ll be your last chance.”
He grovelled.  “Thank you, thank you.  I’ll be good, I promise.”
“That’s better, baby.  Right.  Let’s get these cuffs on you…  There.  Now, what else is there in there, Sandy?”
“Ooh…  Look at these.  Lovely big pacifiers…  All for you, you lucky boy!  Hey, Helen – look at this one!”
“Oh my god!  I bet this is your favourite, Lukie!”  She took the sissifier from Sandy.
“And there’s a retaining strap so it can be locked onto his hood.  And look here!  Look at these other things…”
“He looks so pretty as he is…  What do you think, Sandy?  Time for our little photo-op?”
“Good idea, Helen.  Come on, Lukie, get up.”  She helped him to his feet.  “Stand over her by the baby wall and show us what you got.”
She led him over and posed him in front of all the baby posters and paraphernalia.
“What are you…?”
“Shh, baby.  Be a good boy.  We just want a few snaps for our album.  Nothing to be scared of.”
“No…please…I don’t want no photos…”
“Luke!  Stop it!  Let’s not go through all that again.”
“But…”
“Anyway, we’re making a video,” said Helen, producing a tripod from the corner of the room and attaching her phone to it.  “That’ll be much more fun, won’t it?  Now stand there and be good while we adjust the picture.”
“Please, Helen…”  Luke squirmed uncomfortably, though he didn’t dare move.  “You got a video already…”  He shifted from one leg to the other.  With his hands cuffed behind him he felt awfully exposed.  “My wrists are sore…”
“Oh, dear!  What a fusspot!” tutted Helen, just like an impatient mother.  “Well, all right.  We’ll take them off for a while, as long as you promise to be obedient.”
“I will…I promise.”
Helen removed the cuffs and retreated, while Sandy made the final adjustments to the phone.  But unfettered, Luke became even more flustered.  He didn’t know what to do with his hands.  But he needn’t have worried.  The girls quickly took charge.
“Right,” said Helen, brusquely, “now we’re not going to talk when we start the camera, but this is what you have to do.  You have to read the words on the boards I’ll hold up – nicely – don’t worry, we’re going to have a rehearsal – and follow the instructions in red.  We’ve spent some time working this out, so don’t mess up – or else.”  (Those two little words always filled him with foreboding.)  “Understand?  Okay.  Let’s give it a try.”

The girls had prepared a number of large white cards with monologue and instructions written in large black capitals, interspersed with instructions in red.  She held up the first one.  Luke stared.
“HELLO.  ME LUKE PETERS.  THIS MY FAVOURITE OUTFIT, RUBBERISED SATIN ROMPERS.  (TUG AT FRILLS TO SHOW ELASTICITY)  OVER MY NAPPY I WEAR RUBBER SAFETY PANTS IN CASE I HAVE ACCIDENT.  (PULL UP FRONT OF ROMPER PANTS AND PULL OUT LEG OF LATEX PANTS TO SHOW) 
She dropped that one and held up a second.
(PUT FINGER TO MOUTH LIKE NAUGHTY CHILD AND LOOK COY)  MUMMY SAYS I BIG ENOUGH TO STAY DRY BUT SOMETIMES I STILL WET MY NAPPY THEN I HAVE TO GO ON MAT AND BE CHANGED AND WIPED AND CREAMED AND POWDERED.  SMELL IS NICE.  SOMETIMES I DO WEE IN NAPPY COS I LIKE NICE CREAM AND POWDER SMELL…
And a third.
I HAVE LOTS OF PRETTY RUBBER PANTS.  I LIKE VERY MUCH.  I LIKE WEAR THEM TO GO OUT.  EVERYONE SAY I SMART BOY.  IF I WEAR WITHOUT NAPPY, MY WILLY GET ALL STIFF AND HOT.  (HOLD CROTCH)  THEN I LIKE PLAY WITH WILLY.  THEN MUMMY SAY NAUGHTY BOY, NOT DO THAT, AND SMACK LEG.  BUT NOT HURT.
Luke’s mouth fell open.  “No way!  You’re fuc-king joking…”
Helen and Sandy looked at each other.
“I can assure you we’re perfectly serious, Luke,” said Sandy, firmly.  “You’d better play along, young man.”  She went to her laptop on the chest of drawers and opened it.  “All I have to do is open this file, and with a couple of clicks it’ll be sent to everyone you know.  Would you like that?  I can do it, if you’d prefer.  Then you might as well go home.  We’ll have no further use for you.  Well?  Shall I?”
Luke’s eyes filled with tears.  “Don’t!”  He stamped his foot with frustration and impotence.  “All right!  I’ll do what you want!  Let’s get on with it, then.”
“That’s better, Luke.  Right.  So let’s run through it, shall we?  And put some feeling into it…”
Luke groaned.  He had feared something like this, but hoped Helen's mother would protect him.  Well, it could hardly get any worse.
But it could.

[Sandra B]

172.
They spent a good twenty minutes rehearsing, during which the girls came up with a few extra ideas.  In between statements, he had to pick up the dummy pinned to his bib and put it in his mouth and suc-k it vigorously.  The girls were delighted to see that, quite of his own unconscious volition, he squirmed with embarrassment throughout, wriggling and pressing his thighs together in the most comical manner.  Their main concern was that his little monologue should come over as untutored and sincere.  They really didn’t think it would be possible to achieve this, but they hadn’t taken into account that by forcing him to repeat the same stuff time after time, and repeatedly correcting him on his delivery, they not only got the required result, but they demonstrated that behaviour can govern emotions – as, when one is feeling miserable, forcing a smile can actually make one feel happier.  So, soon he was acting quite in character, and even ad-libbing!
“Hello!  Me baby Luke Peters.  Me wearing my very favouritest outfit, my rubber satin rompers!”
“Sometimes I wee my nappy deliberately, cos I like feeling cold cream on my botty, and smelling nice scented baby powder!”
He was getting nicely into his role, and was about to eulogise about his willy, when he suddenly stopped in mid-declamation and his face fell.
“Come on, Lukie – you’re doing so well.  What’s the matter?”
He stared at the floor, lip quivering.
“What’s up, darling?”
“…my willy…”
“Yes, we know you have a willy.  What about it?”
“I can’t…  I can’t…actually…play with it…”
“What?  Why ever not?  Come on – speak up.”
“It’s…  It’s…  Auntie Shirley put it in…a special tube thing…”
Helen and Sandy stared at each other for a moment.  “What?” said Helen. 
“Show us!” cried Sandy.
And without further ado, they unbuttoned and pulled off his rompers, unpinned his nappy, and a moment later the reason for his distress was plain for them to see.
“Oh my god, Luke!  You must have been very bad for her to do this.”
“I wasn’t…  Well, not really…  And she says it won’t ever come off!”
“What, ever?  Don’t be silly.  She’s not serious, darling.  I’m sure if you’re very good she’ll get it taken off for you.”
“Do you think so?”
“Of course!  She’s just playing with you.  But while you’re a little baby, it’s probably for the best.”
“No it’s not!  I hate her!  She a bitch!  It’s not fair!”
Helen gasped.  “Well, if that’s how you behave…it’s no wonder she’s punished you.”
Her mother appeared at the door.
“What was that?  Who was he calling a bitch?”
“Hi mum.  Miss Dearman.  Cos of this.”  She stood aside.
Mrs Braithwaite did a double-take.  Then advanced cautiously for a closer look.
“Goodness…that’s so neat.  Now I come to think of it, Georgia did say something…but I didn’t really take any notice…”
She stood there staring at it, a smile hovering on her lips.  Looking up to Luke’s face, she saw he was frowning and pouting.
“There, there, Luke.  You know it’s for the best…   Adolescent boys…a degree of restraint necessary…tend to get out of hand…sure it’s only temporary…”
“Oh dear,” said Sandy.  “And you were so happy just now.  Then you got all rude and nasty.”
“Yes,” said Helen.  “I’m afraid we’re going to have to punish you…”
“No!”
“…or would you prefer we reported you to Miss Dearman?”
“What? No!  Don’t do that!  Okay, punish me yourselves….”
“Good boy.  Sandy?  What do you think?  Maybe the…”  And she whispered something in her friend’s ear.

Ten minutes later he found himself naked except for his socks and sandals, hands cuffed behind his back, stretched face down on a plastic changing-mat in the living room.  The girls had arranged the phone on its tripod a couple of metres to one side, where it was already recording the scene.  Despite her view that she should be present to keep an eye on the process, Helen had ordered her mother to leave the house – “go and do some shopping, mum” - on the ground that she and Sandy were in charge of Luke’s management, and it would be “inappropriate” for her to be involved.  Once she had left, the girls got to work.  Helen set down the accessories bag next to the mat, and climbed astride Luke’s back, facing his feet.  Sandy lay across his legs, making sure he couldn’t close them.  He struggled and cursed, forcing Helen to administer half a dozen good hard smacks to his bottom.
“Ow!  That fuc-king hurt!”
“Be quiet, or we’ll have to gag you as well!”
His protests subsided into muffled resentful muttering.  Helen picked a pot of baby cream from the bag, put on a pair of latex gloves, and smoothed it gently into his glowing cheeks.  That seemed to calm him down a little.  But when she extracted a good-sized dollop on one finger, and pushed it between the cheeks, he stiffened and clenched his buttocks..
“What are you doing?”
“Do you want the gag?”
“Umph…”
As her finger slid inside him he shut his eyes tight.  He couldn’t move, but he fought to resist its entry.  However, Helen, with a wink at Sandy, worked it slowly back and forth, in such a way that somehow made his buttocks relax again involuntarily.  Once she had him in this vulnerable state, she pulled out a glossy red rubber butt-plug, about four inches long, tapered to the rounded tip, with a narrow neck and a button base.  Inserting the end, she worked it carefully back and forth for a couple of minutes, stretching him open by degrees, and eliciting little squeaks of protest, until all at once she gave it a final push, and it popped in up to the hilt, leaving only a little shiny red button between his cheeks. 
“Yes!” hissed Sandy.  “Nice one, Helen!”
And outside the window Mrs Braithwaite, peeping through a gap in the curtains, gasped in sympathy. 
“Goodness!  I wonder what that feels like…”
The girls didn’t bother to enquire.
“There, naughty boy.  Now, turn over.  I’m going to put you in a pull-up.  I can’t be bothered to fiddle with that nappy.  And look – I’ve found you a nice new outfit to wear this evening.”
They helped him up, uncuffed his wrists and dressed him.  A little yellow T-shirt with a teddy on the front, close-fitting and just covering his navel; and a pair of sky-blue rubber pants, the legs trimmed with yellow frills, secured with a yellow vinyl belt.
“Let’s put his bonnet back on, shall we?” said Sandy.
“Yes.  And I think we’ll strap one of those big dummies in, too.  Might as well plug both holes!”

Finally, they fitted him with a blue leather baby harness, and cuffed his wrists to the buckle on the back strap.  Now he was all neatly trussed up and unable to speak, they led him around the room, sniggering at the offended expression in his eyes, and the squirmy way the butt-plug caused him to move.  In fact he looked just as if he had recently soaked his nappy!
They were just in the middle of these games when Helen’s mother “returned”.
“Hello, girls.  Have you…  Oh!  Luke!  You look so pretty!”
“Doesn’t he, mum?  There's a lot of coolstuff in that bag.  Do you like his pants?”
“They’re gorgeous!  Come to mummy, Luke.  Why are you wriggling like that?  Are you sure he doesn’t have a wet nappy, Helen?”
She knew very well the reason for his awkward stance, but she wasn’t going to let on.  Those bad girls!  Really, fancy doing that to the boy!  How must it feel…?  She was a little shocked, but she also found it slightly titillating.
“No, I’m sure,” grinned Helen.  “He’s just being a baby, that’s all.” 
Sandy had sat down and was scribbling something on the back of an envelope.
“Sandy?  What are you writing?”
“It's a poem.  I had an idea.  A nursery rhyme, really.  Do you know, “I had a little pony”?”
“His name was Dapple-Grey…?”
“That’s right.  I’ve adapted it a bit.  I’m going to get Luke to read it while we film him.”
“Show me.”
She handed the paper to Helen.  “What do you think?”
Helen read it out loud.

“I am a little baby, my name is Lukie-loo,
I’m captured by two horrid girls,
Oh, what am I to do?
They teased me and they spanked me,
And plugged my little bum,
And dressed me in blue rubber pants –
Oh!  If only I could c-um!”

Helen screamed with laughter.  “Sandy, that’s genius!  Let’s make him stand against the baby wall and say it!  Then we can send it to Miss Dearman.  She’ll wet herself!”
They shepherded him upstairs, pushed him against the wall, took off his dummy strap and uncuffed his wrists.
“No!  Please don’t make me read that!” he begged, panicking.
“Oh, Luke darling, it’s nothing,” soothed Mrs Braithwaite.  “Miss Dearman will be so surprised.  You never know, she may even agree to have your, er, device, removed.  Go on, it’s sweet.”  She turned to the girls.  “Though I think it would be better if he learns it by heart.  It would seem more spontaneous that way.”
“You're right, mum.  Okay, Luke, get it off by heart, and…  What’s with that face?  Don’t you dare say no to me again, or...we’ll send out the video we just took…  Ah, that did the trick, didn’t it?  Right.  Here, hold dolly under your arm…  and hold this dummy in your other hand.  Give it a little suc-k after “horrid thing to do”.    Now, let’s rehearse.  And put some feeling into it…”
“Yes,” added Sandy.  “And when you've got it off pat, you can perform it and all the other stuff you learned earlier, and then I'll download it and edit it into a super little film.  Let me see, what can we call it...” 

[Sandra B]

173.
“Luke pulls it off?” suggested Helen.
“Luke takes the cake?” offered Emma.
“Luke in latex, maybe…,” said Sandy.
“Luke struts his stuff?”
“Baby in bondage?”
“Hahaha…”
“Baby Blue?  He had blue rompers, now he’s wearing blue pants…”
“We’ll decide later.  First of all let’s get some footage.”

It took most of the evening, but after many takes they had some really delightful material.  As can happen in such situations, after a while Luke was concentrating so much on his delivery that he seemed to forget he was being filmed.  The girls were unable to contain their mirth  much of the time, so the success of the evening was largely down to Emma, who treated him like a mother would treat a real toddler, encouraging his showing-off and praising his performances, and urging him on to bolder and bolder displays of silliness and naughtiness.  He flaunted his baby pants shamelessly, and, memorably, allowed himself to be persuaded to sing and dance to the tune of “The Wheels on the Bus”: 
“The baby in the house wears rubber pants, rubber pants, rubber pants,
The baby in the house wears rubber pants…  All day long….
The baby in the house’s nappy’s wet, nappy’s wet, nappy’s wet,
The baby in the house’s nappy’s wet…  All day long…”
In the middle of this song he suddenly stopped, made a silly face, and clutched his crotch.
“Ooh, Mrs Braithwaite….”
“Yes, sweetie?”
“If I do a wee in my nappy, will you change me?”
“If you want, of course I will…”
“I do.  I know you will wipe me nicely, and put the cream on gently…  And will you powder me, and give me a cuddle, and maybe give me my bottle?”
“Of, course, dear.  Anything you want.”
“I like the smell when I’m put in powdered rubber pants…”
“Do you, now?”
He thought for a moment.
“Yes…  My willy’s feeling all…tight…”
“Really?  Is it uncomfortable?”
“No…,” he said wistfully.  “I’m used to it.  But it won’t go down since the girls plugged my bottom…”
Even Emma had to suppress a smile.  He looked at her, and said, very seriously, “I think…  I think I’m going to wet my nappy….”
Sandy quickly checked the phone to make sure it was focussed and running.  This she didn’t want to miss.
“Yes…  Oh, oh!  I’m doing it!” he cried in a surprised but excited voice.  “I’m doing a big wee in my pull-up!”
“Good boy, good boy Luke,” smiled Emma.  “Let it all out.  Hold dolly tight and suc-k your dummy.  That’s it!  Gosh, that is a big one!”
They could see his pants tightening over the expanding pull-up as it soaked up the wetness.  He pressed his thighs together and closed his eyes, rocking his head from side to side and making little humming noises. After a minute he stopped moving, opened them again and looked at his audience with a slightly startled expression.
“Have you finished, Luke?” asked Emma, gently.
“Y-yes.”
“Shall I change you?”
“Y-yes, please…”
“I’ll bring up the mat,” said Sandy, leaving the room.

They put the mat next to the baby wall, and while Mrs Braithwaite changed Luke, Sandy moved around looking for the best camera angles.  While Emma wiped and creamed and dusted, Helen took his rubber pants, washed, dried and powdered them, and Sandy, taking pity on him, extracted his plug.  Soon he was all fresh and clean, and ready for bed.  They made him up a bed on the floor with a spare mattress and a duvet in a child’s duvet cover, Emma put him in a clean nappy, fed him milk from his bottle and gave him a dummy to suc-k, and soon he was fast asleep.
“What a little darling,” breathed Emma.  “Once he gets in character, he really is just like a very big baby, isn’t he?  It’s like the baby is his real self, and all that adolescent bluster and arrogance is the act.”
“It’s true,” said her daughter.  “If we could only completely erase the teenager, he’d be a lovely sweet little thing.”
“But that’s never going to happen…”
“Maybe there’s a way,” said Sandy, almost to herself.  “But I need to edit all this video into a proper film.  I think there’s going to be four…no, five, chapters – playground, arrival, punishment, baby show, and wet.”
“Sounds good, Sandy.”

Sandy worked on her film in the spare room till nearly one in the morning.  When she returned to the bedroom Helen was already in bed, and dropping off to sleep. 
“Finished?” she yawned.
“Just.  I’ve used this new software to fade in the chapter titles.  I’ve called the film “Luke’s Baby Life” and added “Starring Luke Peters” – so everyone will be in no doubt who it is.”
“Well, we know – that’s all that matters, isn’t it?”
“Maybe.  But it’ll keep him on his toes.”
“You’re right there.  He’ll have to do anything we tell him to.  Listen, I’m tired.  I’m going to sleep and think of forfeits for him.  I’ll watch the film in the morning.  How long is it, incidentally?”
“An hour and twenty minutes.”
“Wow!”
“Yeah.  And we haven’t finished yet.  Let’s ask your mum if we can keep him all day tomorrow, too.  I’ve got a few ideas.”
“Ooh, yes, let’s.  I’m sure that lady will agree – specially if we offer to give her the film.”

[Sandra B]

174.
Helen was up at six, and watched the whole thing.
“Sandy?  You awake?  That was incredible – so professional!  I love your commentary and the background music.  What did you say?  “That day was a very special day for Luke.  His first day out in his new blue satin rompers.  He was going to meet his best friend Sarah in the park.  They had arranged to have a princess’s tea-party in the castle turret…”  Brilliant!  And the butt-plug episode.  Here, let me find it…   Here we are.  This is so cool.”
She played the video.
“Despite their carers best efforts, sometimes big boy-babies forget themselves and need to be disciplined.  A little smack on the bottom may only have a temporary effect.  Where a more lasting reminder is required, the best and kindest corrective may be a simple smooth plug – only mildly uncomfortable, but impossible to ignore.”
“And this bit near the end.”
“Showing off to everyone in his pretty latex pants and singing his silly rhymes has distracted Luke from his need to pee.  By the time he realises, it is too late, and he floods his nappy once again!”
“I’m glad you like it.”
“I love it so much it’s difficult to accept we won’t be able to show it to anyone else.  Can you imagine the reaction?  I mean, if we showed Fay, or Gemma?  They’d be the ones wetting themselves then!”
“I know.  But if we did, it’d be all over the school in hours.  Anyway, ask your mum about Luke staying for the day.  If we get permission, we can decide what to do.  Let’s find him a different outfit – there’s more clothes in that bag.  Maybe…we could take him out somewhere?”
“Yes, let’s!  Okay, I’ll go ask mum to ring that lady…Georgia.  I hope she’ll let us…”

Emma was happy to call Georgia, and the upshot was she agreed they would call about seven in the evening, and Emma asked her if they’d like to stay for dinner, and she said they’d love to, and the girls were ecstatic they’d have another whole day playing babies.  By that time Luke was awake, sitting up in bed looking cute with his curls all tousled and his eyes still sleepy.  Sandy dragged the big accessory bag out from under Helen’s bed and began exploring.  Shirley had provided enough stuff for a week, and Georgia had sent the whole lot over with Luke.  Soon they were sitting on the floor going through the contents, while Luke looked on, not totally at ease.
“What are you lookin’ for?”
“Don’t know till we find it.  You’ll need to look nice today.”
“Why?”
We’re taking you out.”
“What?  Why?  Where?  I thought I was going back this morning…”
“No.  Change of plan.  Hey, Helen.  Look at these!  I really like the colours.”  She held up a pair of yellow rubber panties with pink frills and a pink waistband.
“Ooh, yes.  Rhubarb and custard!  Good enough to eat.”
“We’ll have those, then.”
“And what are these?”  She pulled out some odd-looking puffy transparent pants and tossed them to Helen.  Helen took them, puzzled, and turned them over in her hands.  They were natural latex pants, but the latex was double-layered, and in between the two fine layers were clusters on tiny plastic bubbles, which rustled as they moved.
“Weird!  What are these for?”
“They were in a bag – here, there’s a label.  “Puffa Pants – ideal undies for toilet-trained babies who think they’re too big for nappies.”  I get it – if they wear these under their rubber pants everyone will think they’re still in nappies!”
“Not only that, but they make such a lovely rustling sound they’ll attract everyone’s attention!”
“No!  I’m not wearing them!  I don’t care what you say!  I’m not!”
The girls looked at each other.  Without a word, Sandy got up, went to the dressing-table where she had left her laptop, and tapped some keys.  She turned to the bed and placed it on Luke’s lap.
“You haven’t seen our film yet, sweetie – but all your little antics are in it.  Now, this file contains all your contacts – all your nice little friends and acquaintances.  Now, I attach the film…  There – “send to all?”  All I have to do is touch “enter”, and…”
“No!  I’m sorry!”  His eyes filled with tears.  “I didn’t mean it!”
“Sure?”
“Absolutely!  Yes.”
“You’ll be a good baby for your aunties?”
 â€śYes!”
“Say it, then…”
“I’ll be a good…the bestest baby…for my aunties…”
“Oh, you’re such a darling little baby!”  And she bent down, dabbed his eyes with a tissue, and kissed him on the cheek.
“You’ll look so cute,” simpered Helen.  You can wear these under your pretty pants - they’re big boy pants, see?  Like for three-year-olds maybe.  You’ll feel all grown up, and when you walk down the street the rustling of your pants will make everyone stare and say, “Oh!  What a cute little boy!  What sweet little boy pants!  Won’t that be nice, my little show-off?  And look, here’s some nice long yellow big boy socks to go with them.”  Luke mouth opened in dismay.  “Yes, so they have ribbons at the tops, but they’re just to make sure they stay up.  And you can wear these pink trainers instead of those silly baby sandals.  What else?”
“What about this,” said Helen, “this pretty shirt?  It would go perfectly.”  She had found a shiny, silky long-sleeved button-up pink shirt with a rounded collar.  “It’s quite dressy, but why not?”
“Why not?  And look – here’s a little pink bow-tie on elastic.  It’s obviously meant to go with it.”
“Yes – the whole outfit goes together really well.  He can bring this little pink bomber jacket too, in case it gets cold.”
“What does it say…?  “Girl Power”.  Oh, yes, ideal!”
“But I’m a boy…” ventured Luke.
“Really, Luke, don’t be so picky.  We don’t believe in gender stereotypes – do we Helen?  Especially for little ones.  Which reminds me, you’ll still want your pacifier, of course.  Here, I’ll pin one to the front of your jacket on a nice yellow ribbon…”
“Use one of the…you know, rude ones!” whispered Helen.
“Naturally!  Look, this one’s special.”  She held up one with a pink guard, an extra-large boss, and a smooth pink pen-is-head teat.  “See what it says on the box?  “Open central boss and insert boiled sweet.  In use, sweet will slowly melt and syrup from sweet can be suc-ked out of hole in end of teat.  Hours of happy suc-king for baby.”  Isn’t that clever?”  She handed it to Helen.
“Wow!  Luke – you’re gonna love this!  What’s your favourite flavour?”  She didn’t wait for him to reply.  “Here, this one will do.”  She picked a purple one from a bag which had been stowed away with the dummies.  Luke’s face was the picture of dismay.  The girls collapsed in giggles.
“And what about his…you know, little bum-plug?” said Helen in an undertone.
“See this one?”  She pointed to a little box in a pocket inside the bag.”  She leant forward and spoke quietly in Helen’s ear.  “Battery-powered remote controlled vibrator.  Bluetooth.  See the metal tip?  Can even give him a little tingle if we want.”
“Cool!”
She turned to Luke.  “Why don’t you go have a shower, and then come and have breakfast.  There’s a dressing gown at the end of your bed.  We’ll get you dressed after you’ve eaten.”
Luke made a face, but slipped out of bed, put on the dressing-gown, and headed for the bathroom.
Helen sighed.  “He’s so sweet, actually.  I don’t really remember what he was like before.  We didn’t mix much with the other years, did we?”
“I remember he used to go round with that bunch of idiots - that Dinsford guy and the Tweed brothers and that lot.  Remember?”
“Oh, yeah.  I remember.   Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dim.  Pathetic.  But then, most guys of that age are…”
“At least, the ones that we know…”

[Sandra B]

175.
Luke sat at the kitchen table in a dressing-gown eating his breakfast.
“Where shall we go, Lukie?  Where would you like to go?”
“Don’t wanna go anywhere,” mumbled Luke, through a mouthful of Cheerios.
“Oh, I don’t believe you!  Shall we go back to the park and see if your little friends are out today?  Yes?”
“No!”
“That’s a great idea, Sandy!  Let’s.  I know he’d love to see his little girlfriend – what was her name – oh, yes, Sarah.  Wouldn’t you, sweetie?”
Luke scowled at her.  “You know I don’t want to see her.  She’s obviously not my girlfriend.  Why do you even bother to say stuff like that?  It’s not funny.  You just like being an annoying bitch, right?”
Helen compressed her lips in mock anger.  Sandy?  Why don’t you bring the laptop down.”
“Sure.”
She was back in a moment.  She opened it.  Helen nodded.  She brought up all Luke’s contacts, attached the video, and turned it to face him.
“See this?  See what it says?  “Send to all.”  All I have to do is to touch this key, and…”
“And you’re finished.”  Helen completed the sentence for her.  “You’ll be known throughout the whole town – in fact, globally, I wouldn’t be surprised – as Luke the baby.  You’ll never be able to escape being a baby.  You’ll have to be one for the rest of your life.  That film will become a classic.  The media will come and hunt you out, wherever you are, begging you to pose for them in you rubber panties.  But maybe you’d like that…”
“Stop it…   Please…  I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to say that.  Just please don’t do that.  Please shut it down.  Just in case…”
Sandy was highly amused.  “What?  In case my finger slipped and…”  She hit a couple of keys.
“Please!”  Luke begged, eyes wide with fear.  “Please don’t mess around.  What would I do?”
“Well, then, apologise to us, and tell us how much you want to be a baby today and do all the babyish things we tell you.”
“Yes,” said Helen.  “And if we see Sarah, promise to ask her on a date!”
“Yes, tell her you like her.”
“Ask her for a kiss!”
They both fell about laughing.  After they recovered, they looked at him expectantly.
“Well?”
Luke’s cheeks burned with embarrassment.
“Get on with it…or…”
“All right!  Give me a chance!”  He gulped.  “I…er, I’m really sorry for saying that.”
“And?”
He took  a deep breath.
“I really want to be a baby for you…  all day.  I’ll do what you tell me…”
“And?”
“What?”
“You have to promise to ask Sarah out if we see her.  Go on.”
“I, er…  I promise I’ll ask Sarah out…if we see her…”
“And tell her you like her and ask for a kiss.”
Luke squirmed and bit his lip.  Anyway, what were the chances?”
“Okay, okay!  I’ll ask her out and say I like her…”
“And…?”
“Ask for a kiss…” he mumbled.
“Can’t hear you.”
“Ask for a kiss!”
“Say, “I’ll ask her for a kiss.””
He thought he was going to be sick.  He eyed the laptop.  Sandy raised her finger.
“Ask her for a kiss.  I’ll ask her for a kiss.  I will!” he blurted.
“Good baby…”

[Sandra B]

176.
Luke sulked through the rest of his breakfast.  However, terrified by the girls’ threats, and fearing he was skating on very thin ice, he allowed himself to be prepared for his outing without a murmur; without a murmur, but with a rather pathetic little gasp as Helen inserted his butt-plug.  It may have been marginally larger than the other one, because of the built-in cell, and the steel tip may have been cold, but once inside it felt reassuringly comfortable.  On went his puffa-pants, then his outer rubber ones, and once they had done the poppers on his shirt up, and tucked it in, Sandy threaded a yellow vinyl belt through the belt loops, buckled it and locked the buckle.
“There.  If you want to use the toilet you’ll have to ask, and then no tampering with your plug, understand?”
Luke grimaced.
“Stand still while I put this on.”  On went his bow-tie on elastic.  “Jacket…”  She helped him on with the little pink “Girl Power” jacket with the pink sissifier on a ribbon.  “Now sit.”  She knelt, and slid the yellow socks over his feet and up his calves, tying the ribbons in bows just below his knees.  She slipped on his pink trainers and tied the laces.  She stood up.
“Stand up, Luke.  Wow!  You look so pretty!  Your curls are holding up really well, too.  I can’t wait to get you outside!”

It was a short bus-ride to the park.  On the street and at the bus stop he was object of constant attention, admiring and amused.  But instead of flaunting his new outfit, he slouched in a corner of the bus shelter looking distinctly sulky.
“Come out, Luke,” admonished Helen.  “No-one can see you properly back there.”
Luke grunted.
“I’ll deal with him,” said Sandy.  She took out her phone and touched the screen.  The sudden vibrations deep inside had a remarkable effect on him.  He stood bolt upright and his eyes widened with surprise.
“Now come out and stand with us!” ordered Sandy.  She touched the screen again.  Luke gave a yelp like a puppy who’s had his tail stood on.  He stared at the girls in horror. 
“Yes, it was me,” said Sandy.  “And that was a mild one.  So get yourself over here at once!”
He needed no second bidding.
“You’d better behave yourself today, young man,” she smirked.  “As you see, I am in complete control.  Now, here’s the bus.  You can pay for us.  Smile at the driver and be super polite, won’t you?  Or…”  She waved her phone.

On the bus Luke was obliged to sit between the girls on one of the inward-facing seats behind the driver, allowing the occupants of the opposite seat, namely two women and the child of one of them, a girl of about six, to stare at him for the whole journey.  The sunlight streaming through the windows fell directly on his pants, filling the air with the faint scent of warm latex.  The girl turned out to be one of those annoyingly inquisitive and loud children whose intrusiveness is generally considered cute – by their parents at least.  She had been complaining about something to her mother, but as soon as her gaze fell on Luke she changed her tune.
“Mummy?  Is that a boy?”
“Shh, dear.  I expect so.  It’s rude to talk about other people in front of them.”
Okay behind their backs, then, thought Luke.
The girl changed her delivery to a penetrating whisper.
“But…he’s wearing a girl’s jacket…and frilly pants…sort of like…baby pants…”
The mother smiled propitiatingly at Helen and Sandy, who smiled back in a way that was clearly intended to do nothing to discourage further conversation.
“I’m sorry.  I’m afraid my daughter’s terribly forthright...and a little nosey, sometimes, I’m afraid… Alexandra darling, you mustn’t comment on people’s appearance …”
“I was just saying…” she whined, sulkily.  “And I’m not nosey…”
“Oh, don’t worry, really,” laughed Helen.  “Luke doesn’t mind, do you sweetie?  Perhaps Alexandra would like to come and sit with us.  Would you?  Here, I’ll move up and you can sit next to Luke and ask him all about himself.”
“Can I mummy?”
“Well, if the lady doesn’t mind…”
She was across the aisle in a shot, and squeezed in between Helen and Luke, making his pants rustle noisily.  He didn’t know where to look.  He thrust his hands between his thighs so he couldn’t touch his new companion.  She, however, was quite comfortable.  She looked up into his flushed face.
“You’re big, Luke.  I really like your outfit.  Your bow tie looks really smart…  I love your jacket…”  She felt the shiny material, making his shiver.  She leant forward and explored the satin bows at the top of his socks.
“Mummy?  Could I have some socks like this?  Maybe white ones?”
“We’ll see, dear.”
She sat back.  For a moment she was silent.  Then,
“Luke…?  Are you wearing a nappy?  Your pants are all puffy…”
Luke was finally stung into speech.
“No!  I don’t wear nappies.  It’s just….sort of….”
“He has special big boy puffa pants,” said Helen, blandly.  “He doesn’t need a nappy any more, but he’s not big enough for big boy stuff yet.  Give them a feel and you’ll see…”
Alexandra needed no further encouragement.  She grabbed a handful of his pants and gave them a through squeezing, causing them to emit a satisfying crinkling sound.
“Ooh, they feel nice and squidgy and scrunchy!” she cried.   Then, taking the frilling of the left leg of his pants between finger and thumb, she pulled it as far as she could, and let it snap back onto his thigh.
“Ow!” cried Luke.
She looked up innocently into his face.  “And your pants really are made of rubber, aren’t they?  Mummy, they are!” she added, excitedly.  “Look!”  She tugged at them again.  “Come and see!  You can even smell them!”
This little episode generated a ripple of amusement in the bus, but made Luke squirm with embarrassment.  Sandy could resist giving him a few seconds of vibration, just to compound his discomfort, which elicited a little gasp of surprise.
“Now, now, dear, I don’t think Luke wants you messing with his pants like that…  I think it’s time for you to come back here.”
Alexandra pouted.  Quickly, Sandy put her lips to Luke’s ear.  “Beg her to stay, or…”  She tilted her phone towards him.  The display showed a red lightning icon, with the words “medium shock”.  Her finger hovered over the button.  Luke got the message.
“Oh, no, really…it’s fine…”
Sandy looked at him hard, and narrowed her eyes.
“I, er…  Please let her stay.  I don’t mind at all…”
“Well, if you don’t mind…”
“See mummy?  Luke’s my friend now.  Aren’t you, Luke?”
“Er, yes…course…”
“So…where did you get your pants an’ everything?  Did your mummy buy them for you?”
“Er…no…er, my aunt…”
“Your auntie?”
“Yes,” said Helen.  “His auntie Shirley.  Actually he has other outfits too…and lots of rubber pants.  Don’t you, sweetie?”
“I…er…”
“Come on, Lukie,” interjected Sandy, “tell Alexandra about all your lovely baby stuff…all those pretty rubber and plastic panties…  He’s got quite a collection, in fact,” she laughed.  Alexandra’s mother had got the joke now, and was beaming delightedly.  The woman next to her was in fits, covering her mouth with her hand.  Alexandra’s eyes were wide.
“Really?  Could I…could I come and see?  Mummy?  Ask the ladies if I can go to Luke’s house…please…”
“We’ll see dear…”
“We’re only looking after him for the present, I’m afraid,” said Helen.  “But here, take this…”  She passed a P & S business card to Alexandra’s mother.  “Shirley Dearman…that’s his aunt.  You could always speak to her.”
“P & S…  What’s that?”
“It’s a special school for, well, amongst others, big babies like Luke.  You can adopt him for a week if you want.  Just an idea…”
“Mummy!  Can we?”
“I’m nor promising anything, darling.  I’ll think about it.”
“I’d take him like a shot,” said the woman next door, with a giggle.  “I’ve heard of P & S.  It sounds a lot of fun…”

Next stop was the park, and they had to get off.  Alexandra virtually had to be prised off Luke.  As they alighted, he gave a deep sigh of relief.
“What is it about you and little girls?” chuckled Sandy.  They’re attracted to you like a magnet.”
“It’s cos he’s such a cool dude,” said Helen wryly.  “Now, let’s go and see if your other girlfriends are around, shall we?  Pop your dummy in, there’s a dear.  You know it keeps you calm and quiet, and we don’t want any showing off today.”