Draw and everything by GrimmInHisCrib
Getting help when it comes to diaper change is always nice even if it can be a blushing moment for Merlin (Agumon) here when Syrus (Gabumon) decide to help.
Draw and everything by GrimmInHisCrib
Getting help when it comes to diaper change is always nice even if it can be a blushing moment for Merlin (Agumon) here when Syrus (Gabumon) decide to help.
As he pulled up outside a sweet little cottage George wondered how come he didn’t know about this place. He’d lived around here all his life but hadn’t noticed any of this before. He felt a bit weird as he got out of the car, opened the rear door and helped Sam out.
“Would you like me to speak with your mummy?”
“Ohh yes please,” she screamed excitedly, her diapers and satin dress rustling as she ran to the front door.
For some reason George’s heart was racing and he was having problems getting his breath.
Sam ran back, grabbed his hand and almost dragged him into the cottage.
“Mummy, mummy, mummy… I’m home.”
There was a moments silence before a far off concerned voice called back a muffled reply; “Where have you been Samuel?”
A woman wearing rubber gloves as if she’d just been washing up entered the room.
She was early thirties, buxom, blonde and very, very pretty. George, who was already having trouble breathing, could hardly get his breath he was so captivated with her beauty.
Forgetting her earlier question she noticed the visitor and tentatively questioned Sam.
“And who is this nice gentleman?”
Before she could reply George gathered his wits together.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, I’m George Peacock, Jamie’s father…” He reached out his hand.
Removing her wet rubber gloves Sam’s mother showed no sign of recognition.
“You know, where the birthday party… for my son… Jamie… er, “
Even though she was shaking his hand none of this was making sense at all.
“Sammmm,” she drew out the name, “have you got something to tell me?”
“Yes mummy. You said if I could find a replacement… I’d be free… I, er, I found someone…”
In a coy way she swayed from side to side, her shiny satin dress shimmering in the different changes of light. At the same time she scooted the toe of her shiny pink leather shoe coquettishly across the carpet.
Meanwhile, her shiny protection, hanging provocatively just below her hemline was only adding to the image of a beautiful bashful toddler. She looked both cute and worried.
George wasn’t taking too much notice of the exchange between mother and daughter as his stomach was suddenly racked with pain, his head throbbed and he felt as weak as a kitten. He fell to the floor holding his chest and sides, unable to decide which hurt most. It was as if he was about to explode and it didn’t help that the room itself began to whirl in the most dramatic fashion.
“So,” Sam’s mother continued, “you want to leave? I see you’ve already administered Tiny Tots”
“Yes mummy, about five minutes ago, he got the special blue ones, er, it’s his favourite colour…”
Sam wasn’t sure what her next move should be but went ahead anyway.
“It’s time… and I’ve followed your rules… I’ve brought another baby to take my place.”
“Well Sammy, I don’t know what to say. I thought you liked being mummy’s little poppet. Mummy’s special little sweetheart, I thought you liked all the pretty clothes I make for you. I…”
“Yes mummy, it’s all very nice but I want, er, I want to be, er,” her little voice softened to a nervous whisper, “grown up again.”
Her mother looked at her with resignation on her face.
“Well Samuel, I had hoped we’d be together for ever.”
Then mummy suddenly had another idea.
“What about you now having a little sister… wouldn’t that be nice?”
She said with some enthusiasm and hope.
“Someone to play with, someone you can dress up and go out together…?”
Sam started crying and filling her diaper.
“But mummy, you said if I ever found a replacement you’d let me go…”
The tears streamed down her face as she thought her mummy wasn’t going to keep to her side of the bargain.
Whilst this discussion continued George’s body began to change. He shrunk. His clothes fell from him as his body reduced through the age groups and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He was in so much pain and modification he heard himself making a noise but no coherent words could be heard.
Mummy looked down at the pile of clothes and saw the sweet naked one year-old crying at her feet unable to tell her how much he was hurting.
“OK Samuel, if you’re sure. A promise is a promise and I think we should always keep those.”
She ruffled Sam’s short blond hair.
“Let’s get your new baby sister into her crib and then we’ll get you sorted…”
She picked up the squirming baby George and carried him over to the changing table.
“I think Georgie is a lovely girl’s name… do you want to diaper her?” She added as a sort of afterthought.
Mummy looked down at her new baby; those unfocused big eyes looking wide and terrified, a thumb already between his lips, and little chubby legs thrusting the air as if trying to get away… but all to no avail.
“Look at her little pee-pee… such a shame… oh well, we’ll keep that hidden away from now on so she won’t have to worry about it anymore.”
She cleaned Georgie up, covered her in powder and slipped the pouting and confused infant into a thick fluffy white diaper. She pinned her firmly in place and easily held her as she tried to wriggle free.
“Now now Georgie.” Mummy said in mock reproach as she held her baby up to inspect the diaper was properly in place. “We’ll have none of that… be a good little girl like Samuel’s been… and we’ll have a wonderful time together.”
George’s mind couldn’t comprehend what was happening as Sam helpfully slid a pair of plastic pants like the ones she was wearing over the newly fitted bulky diaper.
Mummy pulled a pink onesie over the baby’s head and snapped that into place. ‘Mummy’s Little Princess’ it said in sparkly letters across the front but George (now to be forever called Georgie) couldn’t understand and, as she was lifted up, her head waggled uncontrollably from side to side. She tried to speak again but all that came out were spit bubbles and murmurs.
“OK, I’ll just put her down in the crib for now and then I’ll attend to you.”
Sam had cheered up immensely now she knew freedom wasn’t far away.
Mummy was keeping her promise and Sam couldn’t wait to be grown up again – it had been many, many years since she was… well… she only had a brief notion of who she was or how old she might have been before she became part of mummy’s life.
She couldn’t quite remember how it happened but every now and then she’d get a flashback to a past life and wonder what had happened. In the flashbacks she was a man – he had, well something else but Sam couldn’t remember. She didn’t remember that much about anything other than mummy. Mummy was always there. She brought her up and looked after her but a couple of years ago, Sam’s flashbacks started to get more intense.
For mummy it had started in Salem many years before; a time of terrible trouble, rumour, suspicion and fear. A time when friend turned against friend, neighbour against neighbour and husband against wife. It was a time of strange medicines, bizarre incantations, promising potions and for some, a consolidation of mysterious powers.
When some unscrupulous husbands saw this mass upheaval as an opportunity for change, many wives met an unpleasant termination at the hands of the religious courts. Some however found a way to fight back. One young wife, grieving the recent loss of her baby daughter was also terrified by her husband’s fearful temper and demand for an heir. With the infant barely cold his anger at his young wife made him threaten to condemn her to the church as the harbinger of all the town’s ills.
His drunken and sneering contempt changed when he ate a special meal his timid wife prepared.
Overnight she lost a scary husband but gained an adorable baby, one to replace the one so recently lost, but one she would always love. However, the special potion mixed into the herby stew had another, unexpected element; a constituent that the new mother came to embrace as a positive… the transformed youngster was kept from the ravages of age and never developed past the age of a six year-old… so mama was always mama.
She’d found, over the years, her powers developed and was able to do many wonderful things. However, some things were beyond her powers and she had to accept the limitations that came with those she had.
Because of mummy’s experience at the hands of her violent and abusive husband she preferred girls but was only able to change men to boy babies. Still, it didn’t matter because she always treated them in such a way that they identified with being a girl eventually anyhow.
Mummy wasn’t keen on the ‘penis’ thing. She didn’t like them and always found them annoying because it led men to think they were somehow superior and entitled because of it. However, as she had no choice in the babies she nurtured over those years, she’d found a way of simply obliterating that element… and that was… by keeping it well hidden behind thick padding. Which meant the boys, as they grew up but didn’t progress much past toddler status, had no idea they were anything other than the little girl they’d been brought up to be.
During that time men had come into her life and some had stayed… unknowingly being transformed into a sweet little ‘girl’.
It’s not like she could wave a wand and somehow magically make the man’s penis disappear now is it?
However, tragedy and circumstances caught up with her and she had to take flight and hide. There were people who knew about her powers and wanted them for themselves or at least curtail hers. The ‘forever children’ as her family of tots became known were all captured and taken away. She barely escaped with her life but through ingenuity and manipulation of a fragment in time closed the door on her pursuers. A new life in a new time was found and the baby she’d managed to cling to throughout it all, Samuel, went with her.
Mummy slipped a pacifier into the crying mouth of her new baby. Georgie may not have wanted it but soon found nursing on the thick rubber nipple very comforting.
“Right Sammy, last chance… are you sure you want to be grown up?
Mummy wasn’t sure. Sam was the first one of her ‘daughters’ to actually request such a return.
“Yes mummy please, please, PLEASE…” Sam pleaded.
Sam didn’t know mummy by any other name. As she grew from a baby to as she was now, it had always been mummy. Mummy was nice, mummy was kind, mummy was funny and knew loads of fun games. Mummy made her lovely clothes… mummy lavished her ‘little princess’ with nothing but love. Mummy had always looked the same. Mummy’s world was her daughter. Time didn’t matter when with mummy.
Mummy stripped her daughter out of the pretty pink satin dress, slipped off her shoes and socks, unlocked the chain (a simple device to stop anyone from changing her daughter and thus discovering the truth). It was an intensely significant moment that meant freedom for Sam and when mummy pulled down her plastic pants she shivered in anticipation. Then the thing mummy had lovingly done for so many decades, and one thing she never tired of, slowly unpinned and removed her little girl’s soaked diaper.
Mummy loved dressing up her ‘babies’. She had a vast array of clothing going back many years that she liked to use and was never happier than when making some new girlishly pretty item. She never potty trained any of her ‘girls’, she just wanted to keep them happy and dependent in their snug and childish protection. Mummy loved to watch as her diapered little tots slowly grew up. She adored when they could speak but were not in the least bit worldly and treasured each moment when they were cute but not knowingly so.
She gained a great deal of diaper satisfaction from the fact that in their reality they never got past the age of a pre-schooler and so looked to mummy for all their needs.
However, over the past couple of years Sam had proved different from the others. Her flashbacks had gotten more intense and although she was still only a little girl she asked mummy many questions. Mummy never lied to her children, mainly because they never asked anything too searching but Samuel was different. So, when she asked why she was having these ‘visions’ of a past life mummy tried to explain.
None of the explanation sounded possible but Sam asked if there was a way out of being a little girl. Mummy had explained the only way to change her life… was to bring in a new one. For over a year Sam had searched for the right person and it was only by luck and a vague connection she had when first seeing George Peacock, that she thought it might just be possible.
There was something in that moment when George noticed her shiny protection; an understanding, an association, a spark which Sam immediately picked up on even if George was completely unaware. It was as if it had all been cleverly arranged and…
“I’m going to miss my little sweetheart.” Mummy said in a loving whisper.
She leaned forward and kissed her daughter’s naked tummy. Then noticing his tiny, scrunched up, unused penis and tiny balls, kissed those to lift the final part of the spell – the last barrier to Sam’s return.
Sam wriggled under such tenderness, a tenderness he had always experienced since the very beginning but now…
Mummy cleaned him up and like Georgie moments earlier, powdered thoroughly before slipping another clean and pristine fluffy diaper into place.
Sam looked worried.
“Do I have to wear a diaper when I’m grown up?” Sam’s sad sulky lip returned.
“Only to begin with sweetheart, only while you are assimilating back… but only you will know that’s what you are wearing until the adjustment is complete.”
Sam looked a little bit relieved.
“However, when you get to your new family I will be leaving a few hints around so you won’t forget completely about us… albeit in an unknowing kind of way.” She added with a resigned smile.
“You can never return… so, once there, you are there for good.”
Sam wasn’t sure what all that meant… how could he forget mummy?
“For a few years diapers are going to be a major part of your life.” Mummy continued. “It will keep you focused on what you have to do.”
Mummy finished with a pair of plastic pants pulled up around his waist and gently eased him to his feet.
Mummy never tired of seeing her little ‘girls’ wear their protection. To her it meant sweet childishness, innocence and complete dependency, all of which, over the years, she enjoyed from her many ‘daughters’. To mummy, nothing said LOVE more than changing a diaper and replacing it with a pristine fluffy white one, a pair of protecting plastic pants and loads of loving kisses and hugs. Her little girl was going to be a man, it was a big change but the glassy protection was like her seal of… approval?
Mummy kissed Sam on both cheeks, on the forehead and softly on the lips and to his surprise he began to grow. Some kind of warming magical fluid seemed to flow through his body. He could feel his limbs expanding, firmness taking root, hair beginning to grow and strangely his genitals forcing themselves against his tight padding.
It was the first time ever he’d been aware he even had genitals.
In just a couple of minutes he was back to being the man he had been before his transformation. He hadn’t aged. He stood in the middle of the room marvelling at what he’d become. Meanwhile, Georgie saw the change from her spot in the crib but didn’t understand what had happened as she filled the first of many diapers.
Sam looked down at his male body. All he was wearing was an extremely tight-fitting piece of plastic protection.
“OK,” mummy said, “the final component… put on George’s clothes.”
Sam seemed reluctant but as mummy pointed out, if he didn’t he’d probably have to wear only his protection or the little pink dress as they had no grown up clothes for a man other than those lying on the floor.
Slowly he shuffled into George’s casual wear. It felt weird and unfamiliar and nothing like what he was used to. However, once he had everything on he looked the very part of a trendy young twentysomething go-getter.
“From now on,” mummy explained, “you are George Peacock. His wife, his kids, his business, his memories… his attitude… everything is now yours.”
Sam looked in the mirror.
“But I don’t look a bit like him.”
His mummy smiled.
“Don’t worry, that’s all part of the assimilation. To everyone who sees you, they will be seeing George Peacock. No one will know any different because their perception will be altered and because of that… you will have time to fully become George.”
Sam was confused.
“Couldn’t I just go back to where I came from originally?”
Mummy noticed the hunky young man in front of her wearing a tight fitting diaper and plastic pants looking somewhat sceptical.
“Well, let’s see. That was many years ago, in a different country and different circumstances. I’m sorry sweethea… er, Samu… er, George… but it’s safer for everyone if you return as George Peacock.”
Sam shrugged. He wasn’t sure about any of this but knew that he didn’t want to return to being a little girl wearing a diaper. He’d take what was given and, surprisingly, the more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea of a readymade family. His wife was very pretty and the kids were adorable so… perhaps it wasn’t going to be as bad as it could be.
Having said that he could feel the tightness of his protection hugging his groin and wanted to be on his way.
George Peacock’s thoughts were already entering his head. He’d been away for, well, he had no idea how long but no doubt his family would be worried.
Mummy kissed him on the lips twice more and opened the door for him to leave. As soon as he stepped over the threshold his only consideration was to get home as soon as possible and hope that the party hadn’t ended.
He drove down the rutted little track and out onto the single road leading away from Snickerty Wood. He suddenly wondered why he was on this route; he didn’t know anyone in this area and couldn’t understand why he’d taken a drive out to his old stomping ground. Was he going nuts or something?
Anyhow, there was no time to worry about that now as he had his son’s party to supervise.
As he pulled into his drive he looked at the car’s clock display, 16.59. He shrugged as his wife came up and asked where he had been for the last ten minutes or so.
“Oh, er, “ He suddenly remembered.
“A little girl was sick and her mother wasn’t due for some time so I took her home. Sorry darling I couldn’t find you but she was pretty weepy and wanted to get home.”
“Aww, that was very sweet of you. Anyway…”
Jamie came running up to his father.
“Daddy, daddy, the magician just made a huge cockatoo disappear… right in front of my eyes… I couldn’t believe it… a cockatoo. He was fantastic…”
For some reason George found the idea of a cockatoo disappearing very funny and laughed at his son’s comic delivery, even if it wasn’t intentional.
His six year-old son was pleased he’d made his daddy laugh and was excited and thrilled about how wonderful his party had been. It continued until six when all the parents arrived to take the last of their sugar-laden, hyper-kids home.
George Peacock looked over everything. It was all his and he couldn’t wait to put the kids to bed so he and his wife could then have some private time together. His cock was nudging hard up against his diaper as he thought his first adult thoughts in… well… he couldn’t remember. His firm penis had been hidden behind a diaper and plastic pants, but now he hoped that George Peacock was a horny and active lover.
The party had eventually finished at 6.30. By eight everything was packed away and by nine the kids were in bed. By ten Samantha and George set about a celebration of their own and by seven the following morning they’d made love almost constantly.
Samantha couldn’t get over this change in her husband. He’d always been a good lover and provider, now he was considerate, passionate, full of new and surprising ideas and a positive sex machine. It was like he hadn’t had sex in ages and had been secretly developing different moves to keep her moist. She’d never had such a slippery or memorable night in any of the past eight years of their marriage… and she loved it.
Back at the cottage Georgie girl was getting her morning feed. Clutched to the bosom of her loving mummy, she sucked enthusiastically on the super-sized teat and loaded her belly on the thick, vitamin filled milk.
Behind the glassy baby stare an occasional thought glimmered. A thought burst through the haze and Georgie writhed uncomfortably and tried to object to something, though wasn’t sure what. No sooner had the thought entered his head than it left and the sweet milk slipped nourishingly down her throat. She snuggled closer to mummy who rocked and patted her sopping padded bottom whilst humming a sweet soft lullaby.
Georgie looked so sweet and innocent with mummy’s titty in her mouth. Meanwhile, she looked down on her nursing infant and promised her new baby would never have any worries whilst mummy was there to look after her. Her pink onesie and thick wet diaper was the start of the love she was going to shower on her little darling. She was going to have her little girl with her forever.
She babbled in infant talk telling her bundle of joy all the things she could expect and the clothes mummy had already made and the new items she would create for her. She couldn’t wait to see her little sweetie-pie in the pink satin onesie she’d just made for her. Mummy also promised her little cherub that she’d never grow old and always be her little diaper-clad princess.
At 7.32am in the Peacock household Jamie gave out a short cry of distress. Although both were completely exhausted mummy and daddy hurried to see what had upset their birthday boy. The smell was an immediate indication of what was wrong. For the first time since he was two Jamie had messed his bed. The poor lad was beside himself with grief that such a thing could have happened now he was six and a big boy. It was something totally unexpected but his parents weren’t angry they just tried to placate their son’s turmoil as they helped him out of his soiled PJs.
Throughout the day he and his sister repeatedly wet and messed themselves. Samantha wondered if they’d eaten something bad but a call around to the mothers of the party guests revealed no other kids suffering such effects. After the third change it was decided both should wear diapers to bed. Jamie was resolute he wouldn’t but his father reasoned with him that if he could get through that first night without having an accident, they’d forget all about him being diapered ever again.
After a long sulky period Jamie eventually had no choice but to agree. However, the following morning both brother and sister woke up to full diapers.
George realised that somewhere at the back of his mind he’d been warned about diapers but couldn’t remember quite what it was – probably that he’d have to buy more. Thankfully, because Adele was still in diapers it was easy to put Jamie in the same ones. They may have been tight to begin with but they were certainly efficient in their job of stopping messy and sodden beds at night and fouled clothing during the day. Mr and Mrs Peacock praised the god who invented diapers and leak-proof rubber pants.
Whether either child wanted to wear them was not the point, both now needed them constantly and, George had to admit, after he and his wife had been out to purchase a whole new range of items, both kids looked cute when running around the house wearing only their protection. He also couldn’t help but feel a degree of personal pleasure that their padded little bottoms made them still look like babies and, after all, the new George had never experienced them as babies.
Even Samantha didn’t appear to mind that her children had taken this step back. She also enjoyed the chance of having her little ones back. Their padded bottoms, as her husband had pointed out, made them look so damned adorable.
Six weeks later, and on a superb summery day, a decision was made to go for a picnic in Snickerty Woods. With the kids well-padded and the diaper bag packed The Peacocks drove down the lane to the parking area. George knew that for some reason he’d been down this road recently although he wasn’t sure why. Meanwhile, his wife was gently nudging him about a ‘special’ time they’d been down it together… and that, she whispered lovingly in her husband’s ear, had resulted in James.
Samantha was glowing; she had some other news to break to the family but thought to wait until they were all settled down with their picnic. She couldn’t think of a nicer place to tell them she was pregnant than at a sun-dappled, leafy spot in the woods.
Still just before George turned left to enter the parking lot he looked to his right, not too sure what he expected to see but there was nothing just the overgrown and dense bit of woodland there had always been.
A huge body-jolting shiver ran down his back but that was soon replaced by a smile as his wife looked at him desirously and the kids, who no longer appeared to worry about being tightly encased in fluffy diapers, all joyfully scampered after him as he led their way to a favourite sunny picnic spot.
Story is written by Les Lea.
You can find more story that is posted on My ABDL Life if you visit this page.
It was the sheer smoothness Jordy liked; the strangely slippery, silky, sensual feeling he got as he ran his hand over the material. His breathing changed as the glossy texture sent sensation after sensation to his already overloaded brain, all the while the tips of his fingers continued to trace around the bulge beneath. Undoubtedly, the slickness of his padded desire slipping beneath him as he wriggled in utter contentment made for the warm and snuggly world in which he found himself immersed. A deep sigh of satisfaction escaped his lips because of the way he always felt at these times when he could indulge in his greatest pleasure.
He had no idea where, when or why this desire for nappies and plastic pants had begun to manifest itself but now, at 22 years old and living on his own, it was something he was happy to indulge in. Tracing the contours of the diaper beneath caused unbelievable excitement, he could feel himself leaking his juices but held back from completing the action, after all, these days there was no rush. Since he left the family home to take up a new job in a different town he was enjoying this new found freedom that was now available to him whenever he desired it. He turned over onto his stomach and gently rocked himself against the mattress of his new bed, his hands now paying attention to his huge padded bottom. Again, the silken thrill as his feather light touches made him squirm and shudder in the act of self-gratification.
Jordy was fifteen when, on impulse, he’d obtained his first ever pack of disposables and a pair of plastic pants. On many occasions he’d past the display in the kiddie aisle of his local store, the one with all the diapers stacked up and the happy smiling faces of all those babies and toddlers looking so joyful. Obviously, they were only happy because of what they were wearing and the diapers or pull-ups or plastic pants appeared to fit the bill. At least in Jordy’s head that was the conclusion he came to and he wanted to be as happy as they were. He’d nervously wandered around the drugstore on that particular visit and timed it so that there were no other customers around to see his purchases. The old assistant beeped the items through with barely any acknowledgment but even so Jordy was out of there so fast he hardly had time to pick up his change and receipt. Once home he hid the objects at the back of his closet and waited until bedtime before he would try for the first time the thing that was now an overwhelming obsession.
He remembered that he’d had these strong urges for quite some time but couldn’t quite recollect when exactly they’d started. He’d tried to wrack his brain to see if he had any memory of wanting such things when he was a toddler or while he was at school but his memory bank was blank so probably it wasn’t then.
There was a time when he was ten years-old and very ill where his parents had nursed him gently back to health but he had no recollection of diapers and plastic pants being involved, but then again, he was in a coma for such a long time he really had no idea what arrangements had been made. Perhaps it was a subconscious thing? Perhaps he was dressed in diapers and plastic pants during that time but just never realised it, well, except on some other level?
Whatever the reason, these questions would have to wait. He was enjoying the here and now far too much to be distracted as he turned over again and slowly traced the top of his leg between flesh and plastic – GOD, that was so spine-shakingly erotic.
That first time: He’d decided to have an early night so with a yawn excused himself, kissed his loving parents goodnight and slowly sauntered up to his room. There was no lock on his bedroom door but as far as he knew, neither of his parents had ever entered without knocking first. However, he realised that the most risky time of getting caught was from when he got naked and eventually slipped himself into the disposable.
His hand shook in anticipation as he opened the package. It shook even more as he slowly unfurled the soft crinkly item and spread it out on his bed. The crinkle sounding so loud but in fact was soft and hardly audible. It took him a few moments to work out which way round it was supposed to go but eventually lined up his bare bottom with the expanded object. He sat himself down and enjoyed the first sensations as the soft fabric greeted his skin. He loved the feeling but as this was the most risky time for unexpected visitors unfortunately couldn’t spend too much time experiencing the unbelievable rush he was getting. He pulled the diaper up between his legs and again the soft, welcoming hug and satisfying crinkle sent shivers through his body. The tapes were eagerly released from their protective covers as he gently manoeuvred them into place. He was snug, very snug and unbelievably happy as he looked at himself in the mirror; he looked sensational, the bright white diaper contrasting with his slightly tanned youthful body. He quickly slipped over the plastic pants and couldn’t believe how they appeared to hold everything together in such a sexy, shimmering way. He ran his hands over it all, the texture giving him an immediate hard on and then he instantaneously shot his load. He staggered towards his bed as the extent of this unexpected orgasm sent him reeling; he felt faint, excited, bewildered and shaking with the aftermath of such a powerful release, one like he’d never experienced before.
It was a forceful initiation and one that completely wiped him out. As he sought the comfort of his bed he’d hardly been able to pull a sheet over himself before his exhaustion swallowed him and he fell into a deep sleep.
He couldn’t remember sleeping so heavily and probably would have slept on if his mother hadn’t come in to wake him for school. Thankfully the sheet had stayed wrapped around him so his secret was hopefully still safe. However, he could see his PJs hanging over the end of the bed, which his mother must have noticed but nothing was said so Jordy waited until she left the room before he dare make any move. Again he felt the vulnerability of his position and the fact that if he’d had a restless sleep his night time ‘interest’ could so easily have been discovered.
He lay there thinking and slipped his hand beneath the covers. The thick and slippery welcome was all he needed to be transported back to last night’s surprising climax and once again his cock took on a life of its own. However, his mum calling to him to get up or he’d be late meant he couldn’t fulfil his pleasure but for a brief moment wondered if he should wear his protection under his school uniform. The idea was very appealing but the practicalities meant it wasn’t possible. His tight school trousers would not hide the outline, the crinkle as he walked would be noticeable to anyone and everyone and, and this was perhaps the main thing, how was he going to get changed for sport, which was a double period in the afternoon, without his mates copping an eyeful. No, he decided, best leave this particular activity for the bedroom.
Reluctantly he stored his ‘special’ items away and got himself ready for the day ahead. Despite sport being his favourite subject at school; he played well, was quite athletic and was captain of his team, his thoughts were now totally targeted on his diaper and plastic pants and what they would be doing to him when he got home.
Throughout his final years at school and later at college, he would maintain his interest in his protection. He began to ration himself as the cost of diapers soared and he found he didn’t quite have the funds to keep up a steady supply. That all changed once he got a job, a well-paid job, that he applied for fresh out of college. Initially he thought the downside would be that he wouldn’t be able to live at home, the work being in another city a hundred and fifty miles from where he lived but the salary was better than originally stated and of course the other benefit was – total freedom.
So, now in his sixth month with a great career, a nice bachelor pad and finances to support his growing fetish, those babies on the displays in the kiddie aisle were correct – diapers do make you unbelievably happy.
Jordy wriggled in complete satisfaction, his plastic pants slipping nicely around him and his thick diaper hugging and controlling the long but inevitable release he was anticipating. He could hardly breathe such was the expectation as his hand slid smoothly over the bulge. His heartrate increased, his breathing almost stopped, the temperature rose and his body trembled.
“Yeeeeesssss, oh God… mmmmm… ooohh fu…. aAAAAAGGGHHH. Yes, yes, yes…”
Story is written by Les Lea.
To find more story written by this user or others you can check out this page to find out what story’s is posted on My ABDL Life.
“Wake up sweetheart, time to get up; we’ve got a full day ahead.”
Granny was gently stirring me from such a deep, deep sleep.
Drowsily I twisted and stretched, I was so comfortable I didn’t really want to move.
Eventually my eyes began to focus and I could see granny beaming down at me.
“Well,” she said as her fingers traced the outline of one of the characters on my nightshirt, her smile broadened, “I know another sweet little bunny that needed their sleep.”
A yawn escaped as if in agreement.
Slowly she drew back the covers and I lay there slightly disorientated because I couldn’t work out what time it was. I mean, I’d fallen asleep in the afternoon and it didn’t feel that much later but, well, the light in the room made it, ermmm…
Seeing my confusion granny leapt in with an explanation.
“Sweetheart, you’ve slept right through. Its morning now and breakfast is ready when you are.”
She drew back the curtains and let in more of the fresh morning light. I could see the cloudless blue sky outside with the obvious promise of another fine day.
How on earth had I slept for so long? I must have needed it but hadn’t felt particularly tired when…
I began to wonder if in fact I had been very tired and just hadn’t realised. Perhaps it was the long walk into the village? Maybe, everything from my home life was just catching up with me? Sleep was coming particularly easy after all those months of my parent’s constant bickering, when even dozing for a short time had been a problem.
There was little doubt that since I’d been at granny’s I’d felt incredibly stress-free. Even the silly, though incredibly comforting, nightshirt had added to the cosy feeling and helped keep me calm. I may be fourteen but thoroughly loved my new PJs.
At home, my jammies hadn’t meant a great deal, I wore them if I remembered but often just slept in my underwear but now. Well. It was like cuddling up to your favourite teddy bear, all warm and fuzzy and something you could totally rely on… except, more so.
I ran my hand down over the nightshirt. I’d forgotten just how juvenile it was but it didn’t matter, the pinkness and blue rabbits made me smile. Kiddie style or not, it all seemed very appropriate for such a splendid morning – lively and adorable. And, that’s how granny made me feel anyway.
As the material slipped under my fingers once again I got the delightful sensation I was actually stroking a little rabbit, but, stranger still, that petted little bunny was me. The soft fleecy coat, the warm glow, the totally tranquil feeling… it was all so wonderful.
I remembered, even as I’d slept, stroking myself and squirming in pleasure, despite my bulky protection, nothing stopped that marvellous thrill coursing through my body. I even recalled waking slightly to feel a warm flush in my nappy but again it felt pleasurable so fell back to sleep knowing I need not worry.
As I’d slept and drifted on a cloud of utter contentment I experienced another hand slowly rubbing the fabric, which now I assume must have been gran though at the time it was all just a disjointed dream.
“There, there Sweet-pea… you just relax, sleep… just take it easy,” said a voice so soothing, so encouraging.
Now, as I thought about it, what were just phrases in my head before, was definitely granny, probably coming to bed and wishing me a goodnight. The gentle caress, the reassuring hug, the soft kiss and the tender arm that encircled my waist left me with a feeling of total love.
All these thoughts and nocturnal memories flooded my mind as granny cheerfully helped me up from the bed.
Once standing I became aware of the heavily soaked nappy clinging between my legs. I’m sure if it hadn’t been for the particularly thick and tight pink plastic pants it would have slid down my thighs landing in a sodden pile at my feet.
However, gran said that we’d sort it all out after breakfast so I cautiously (and squishily) made my way to the kitchen wondering just how much pee a nappy could actually hold… it felt like several gallons.
The thing was, fourteen or not, I now totally accepted that I had to wear a nappy. It didn’t feel babyish, it didn’t feel odd, it simply felt like that’s the way it should be. Filling the thing, either day or night, was not a problem, granny seemed to expect it. What should perhaps have filled me with horror, a soaked and drooping nappy, was normal and I was encouraged to give it no thought at all.
Granny’s total and unconditional love meant that any problem I had was no problem at all to her. In fact, she’d gone out of her way to make me feel like I did when I first used to come and visit her as a toddler. There was nothing too much trouble for her little ‘Sweet-pea’ and I appreciated that she’d gone to so much trouble to remind me of the fantastic times we had together before my parents had become emotional high-maintenance.
Breakfast was my favourite sugary cereal and a glass of milk, both of which I downed very quickly. I hadn’t realised just how hungry I was and a second bowl, followed by a large glass of apple juice, went down with equal speed.
As I sat eating and drinking my protection oozed a bit between my legs and it wasn’t very nice. I was glad that the plastic pants gran put me in the day before were sturdy enough to prevent leaks so at least I wasn’t dripping all over the cottage.
I’d noticed my ‘accidents’ were getting a little worse because each morning I’d woken up very damp, the day before I’d peed my pants and I’d even had a surreptitious dribble in the bath. Yep I was definitely ‘tinkling’ (a granny term from when I was tot) more.
As a consequence, granny had been correct in making me wear some protection because my bladder seemed to have a mind of its own and I had to admit I felt safer when I did. I’m not sure if it was security, defence or just plain preference but I liked the bolstering quality of them now and more than happy to enjoy the security it offered.
However, there was certainly something special about being back with granny. It was like stepping back in time. I suppose wearing a nappy was all part of the reinforcement of when things were good and, in her own sweet way, she was reminding me of those happier, more sentimental times.
Granny saw me wriggling in my chair and humming to myself. At first I wasn’t aware I was but, although the fullness and dampness of it wasn’t necessarily pleasing, my wriggling wasn’t because of irritation but somehow it amused me. There was an unmistakeable rustling from the plastic and a sort of ‘squish’ from the saturated cloth. As I ate I was unintentionally entertaining myself through the little noises my protection was creating.
“I think I’d better get my favourite bunny out of its wet nappy before there’s a chance of any rash, we wouldn’t want that now would we?
I giggled but shook my head like a well-behaved toddler as she guided me back upstairs to change.
Standing in the bathroom she pulled the night shirt over my head, the soft winceyette sending a delicious tingle all over my body. The plastic pants were tight and, as she eased them down, I could see the imprint of the elastic waistband and leg cuffs leaving a red mark. No wonder they didn’t leak. Then the sodden disposable slipped effortlessly to the floor where granny had me step out of it and into the bath. She ran the warm water and then instead of having a bath, I stood whilst she soaped and sponged me down like you would a toddler.
Once all that was done she led me back into the bedroom where a large disposable and enormous thick shiny blue rubber pants were waiting. I wasn’t expecting to be put back into protection, it was morning after all, but I didn’t feel able (or want) to complain. It felt like granny knew best so it was best to go along with her judgement. In fact, I really liked the way gran was looking after me and it all just seemed effortless and practical.
She always takes pride in smearing in the preventative nappy rash cream, making sure that any vulnerable area is well coated. She has fun sprinkling on the baby powder (I’m giggling more and more each time she does this) and fixing my disposable (with an extra layer of padding) correctly, which means I’m always grateful for her attention to detail.
Pulling up the rubber pants I could feel there was a bit more ‘body’ to them than the plastic ones I’d been wearing. They were denser, shinier and looked fairly impenetrable in comparison but I guess she’d looked at the nappy I’d just taken off, realised how saturated it was so decided I needed more help than usual. She appeared happy with the result, whilst I chuckled (I don’t know why but I’d been in that joyously juvenile frame of mind since I got up) as she checked and smoothed everything down, looking at the final glossy effect with a nod of approval.
Another nightshirt was pulled over my head. The cotton was as soft as the previous one except the material was blue with little brown squirrels running all over it. It made no difference, as soon as it engulfed me and tickled the back of my legs I felt so happy and cosy I thought I’d never want to take it off again, which was a strange thing to enter my head. However, many similar thoughts and questions had done exactly the same but had disappeared with the ease with which they arrived.
Uncontrollable chuckles just erupted as I stood waiting for whatever was to happen next. The nightshirt had an effect I couldn’t explain except I absolutely loved wearing it. It tickled, it comforted, it was so unlike anything else I’d ever worn. Granny was all reassuring smiles and I felt happy that she was happy.
I was dressed for night but the day had only just started.
“We’re going to a party… a pyjama party.”
Granny announced when she saw me examining the baby pattern on my daytime clothing.
Was about all I could muster at that point though in truth, once her announcement had sunk in, I was suddenly quite thrilled by the idea of a party.
Indeed, had I been a little kid I might have found myself jumping up and down with excitement.
Unintentionally, I was actually jumping up and down.
The clothing now made perfect sense and the ultra-thick protection hardly registered because of the anticipation of going to such an event. Any reluctance that I may have had regarding what I was wearing and being seen by others had completely disappeared.
Granny noticed by immature enthusiasm.
“From now on sweetheart, it’s going to be fun, fun, fun.”
She stroked my hair, smoothed down the nightshirt, which sent even more ripples of pleasure through my body and ended up patting my padded bottom.
“Well sweetie, I think you’re just about ready so… shall we go?”
She slipped a huge colourful bag over her shoulder and headed for the door.
There was no doubt about it, I was beaming from ear to ear at the prospect of the party and straining like a puppy on a lead desperate to be let off. Unfortunately, that excitement, together with the milk and apple juice from breakfast had an effect and I found myself, quite uncontrollably, filling my pristine and lovingly applied nappy.
However, I just wanted to get off and join the festivities as soon as possible so I didn’t say anything to granny, hoping that she couldn’t tell. The warmth spread around my groin and bottom… I smiled what I hoped was an eager smile to hide my guilt.
Granny didn’t tell me whose party it was she just held out her hand, which I took with barely a second thought, and we toddled down the back lanes to our destination.
For the briefest of seconds I had a touch of Déjà vu. I’d walked down this lane, holding granny’s hand before, which over the years was not an impossible thing to happen except, I was dressed exactly the same but still only a toddler. It was weird but the ‘vision’ soon passed and everything felt right again.
Thankfully granny doesn’t walk too fast so the journey wasn’t an awkward waddle trying to keep up with a soaked and bloated nappy between my legs. The blue rubber pants were very tight so kept everything quite well contained but there was a feeling in that particular area that I might be pretty well waterlogged. Then I remembered granny had fitted a thick soaker pad so that was probably what was giving me that ‘bloated’ feeling under my nightshirt. As I shuffled along holding her hand I was smiling to myself for a couple of reasons. One was that I was off to a party; the other was that again she’d known I’d need extra protection and that’s just what she’d given me.
Granny was very special indeed.
For a second time I noticed that nearly every back garden we passed the washing hanging out was very similar; nappies, colourful plastic pants, lovely designed nightshirts and various towels. It seemed that granny wasn’t the only one who needed to keep up with a messy kid.
No sooner had I noted this phenomenon than I disregarded it as anything in particular because I could hear the noise of a party in the distance. Needless to say my waddle speeded up a bit and I was almost dragging gran along behind me. However, she kept a grip on my hand so I couldn’t just rush off by myself.
Eventually we arrived at a building that looked like it was once a small village school. In fact it did have Thurswell Green Infants carved into the stone above the door but there was a newer painted sign that announced Thurswell Green Crèche. This colourful banner had happy cartoon children and baby animals all over it so I suppose it now doubled for a slightly different need in the village. Granny guided me through the doors, by-passing a couple of bright little empty classrooms and out into the back.
This was a surprise.
The large enclosed area must have once been the playground and sports-field for the school and it was still being used in a similar manner. There must have been about thirty or forty children charging about, playing on various swings and slides. Toys were everywhere; there were a couple of shallow little plastic paddling pools with boats and other objects floating about. Trampolines, a cardboard fort, huge building blocks and a host of other colourful items were peppered around the place.
My eyes lit up when I saw the large bouncy castle, which was proving very popular. It was one of those things that I’d always loved to play on but, being, er, erm… I forget now, but too old for simply jumping up and down on some inflated piece of plastic.
What I noticed most was that the children were all ages, from toddlers to teens. In fact, there were definitely other boys and girls who were older than me all running about, screaming and laughing but the one thing we all had in common was – our nightshirts. This was a very specific pyjama party.
A few toddlers were running about wearing just their nappies, whilst others like me wore their brightly coloured nightshirts. As people bounced or ran around, their nightshirts flapped in the warm morning air revealing a host of different coloured protection. Some were plain white, some didn’t wear plastic pants and others had bright and shiny pants keeping everything in. What I noticed, but it didn’t really click as anything strange, was that all the kids of every age were wearing nappies.
So, this was gran’s idea of a pyjama party… GREAT… I couldn’t wait to join in.
She let go of my hand, patted my padded bum and told me to go and enjoy myself. I didn’t need telling twice and immediately made my way to the bouncy castle. There was a short line of kids waiting and an even longer line of shoes; trainers, sandals and flip-flops belonging to the people already bouncing up and down. I looked around at the swarm of youthful exuberance and hardly anyone was wearing anything on their feet. It must be that once you’d taken them off, the grassy surface proved more enjoyable. I quickly slipped off my trainers and put them into the line with the others and I had to agree, the grass felt really fantastic tickling between my toes.
Suddenly I experienced someone slap my arm.
“Tag… you’re it”
I spun around to see the smiling face of a boy, a little bit younger than me, running away but looking over his shoulder, I suppose to make sure I was going to join in. I did. I set off after him and before long I was playing amongst a group of other kids. It was fantastic, all ages played with each other and no one was left out. As new people arrived they were just as quickly absorbed into the noisy multitude and having a brilliant time.
It appeared that a large proportion of the village youngsters, and quite possibly any that were visiting like me in the school break, were here. It was a very communal activity, which seemed incredibly well supported.
Around the edges of the playing field were gazebos and awnings offering shade and sitting chatting in those were where the adults kept themselves. Mostly the noisy kids were left to their own devices but occasionally individuals were called over to have their nappies checked. If the grown up thought they were too wet or messy, they were changed right there and then on the spot before being fitted into a fresh one and sent back out to play.
It was the same from the youngest to the oldest and no one thought it odd, mostly those being changed just wanted to get back with their friends to continue whatever it was they were doing. The noise and the screaming, the laughter and childish excitement about being with such a big group of like-minded juveniles was just so infectious. I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed myself so much or played so many different and silly games.
Granny called me over because I’d been running around for about an hour, lifted up my Winceyette nightshirt and slipped her hand down the front of my tight reflective blue pants.
“OK baby, let’s get you changed… you’ve been like since we left home and I don’t like you in this state for too long.”
I shrugged, so she had known but let it pass because of my excitement… I loved granny.
As I looked around I could see that most of the shaded areas had loungers, deck-chairs and spread out covers and most had huge holdalls somewhere nearby. Parents, aunties, uncles and grandparents or whoever was caring for the various children had come well prepared to make sure their little ones were going to be well looked after.
It never occurred to me to be shy or anxious about granny changing me in public. Indeed, only ten feet away a boy, who was probably a couple of years older than me was nonchalantly being changed and next to him was a little girl, possibly his sister, who was also being slid into a pair of nursery print vinyl pants. As soon as both of them were done they kissed their parents and charged off to join their group of friends.
As granny was fastening my shiny blue rubber pants back into place, her neighbour, Mrs Davies came over holding the hand of a little boy. He was wearing what appeared to be a very wet disposable but still had a huge smile on his face.
“Peter here has just been for a swim in one of the paddling pools,”
She half laughed and shrugged at the same time.
“He didn’t realise that his nappy would soak up all the water.” She laughed again. “What does he look like?”
With that he was plonked down beside me whilst being relieved of his flooded and drooping appendage.
He smiled across at me as Mrs Davies got to work cleaning him up and powdering his hairless little body. She introduced him as her grandson.
“Hi” I half smiled and nodded back
“Wiwl you pway wiv me?”
His big blue eyes were both smiling and searching hopefully.
Granny gave me a nod and a smile that I took as “That would be a nice thing to do”. Not that I wouldn’t have anyway but… well… I’d do anything to please her.
“Mmm, er, sure…”
Granny patted my padding then pulled the nightshirt back down to my knees.
There was something I’d noticed since the first time granny had put me back into a nappy – the padding around my bum and the thickness between my legs made me feel, er, different… no special, er, no that’s not it either. Gave me a feeling of total wellbeing, as if, being wrapped in such soft, thick material was sending messages to my brain declaring all was wonderful and I had absolutely nothing to worry about. Granny also gave me that feeling, as did the nightshirts, there was something unusual going on but it was something I embraced.
“This one will be a minute or two yet.”
Mrs Davies said as she pretended to search for something under her grandson.
His face was engulfed in a broad grin and his little giggle, as she tickled his sides and slightly tubby tummy, was quite contagious. I found myself laughing along with him for no other reason than it was fun to do. Both granny and Mrs D were also smiling as their two charges rolled around hardly able to contain their mirth. We both wriggled on the blanket in our fresh clean nappies chuckling our heads off.
So as to protect young Peter should he want to go back in the paddling pool, Mrs Davies fed a pair of tight see-thru plastic pants up his legs. His blue cartoon printed disposable was clearly squashed by the glossy material giving the effect he was somehow trapped in glass. He squirmed, beaming his childish but quite captivating smile as they were snapped into place. Once granny had made sure I was looking my best, we set off together to find something exciting to do. He slipped his hand into mine and we made our way to the makeshift cardboard fort.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d played with someone his age but I, and a couple of others, were soon involved in a fantastic game of aliens and dinosaurs. I was no stand-offish teen but an energy fuelled toddler and it appeared I wasn’t the only one. Before long we had about ten people join us making monster noises and alien sounds. I’m not sure there were any rules as such but that didn’t stop us charging around having a brilliant time.
There simply was no age barriers.
The nightshirts never seemed to hinder our play although sometimes, the colossal size of the protection underneath made running at speed very difficult. Some kids would fall over and expose just how loaded their nappies were or reveal some unexpectedly silky, shimmering covers. Some boys had equally colourful or frilly vinyl pants like the girls but no one commented. In fact, I don’t remember seeing any tears or nastiness amongst any of the children. We were all getting along wonderfully because it didn’t matter, everyone was equal and what you wore wasn’t down to you, it was the decision of the grown up supervising.
There were many styles of vinyl pants that I thought looked fantastic and mine, on more than one occasion, had little hands pawing at the very smooth glossy surface. Judging by the noisy mayhem going on around us no one seemed in the least bit inhibited by what they had to wear.
After a further couple of hours the kids started congregating at the canopied areas for some lunch. Once again, everything seemed to be well organised as the huge bags were delved into and a copious amount of food and drink produced. All the kids huddled in close to their parents, or whoever had brought them, and settled down in the shade of the very hot sun, to feast.
Granny of course had brought some of her fabulous pies and I shared them with Peter and Mrs Davies. A couple of other grown-ups I didn’t know but whose kids, Ray-Ray and Bonnie, I’d been playing with also came over and shared granny’s and Mrs D’s fabulous baking.
“Do you remember Mr and Mrs Wilkinson?” Granny asked me.
I felt a bit guilty because obviously granny thought we’d met before but I couldn’t recall when it could have been.
“Sorry but…” I shook my head slightly.
“Well don’t worry about that.” Mr Wilkinson said smiling before shaking my hand. “You seem to have made great friends with our nephew and niece.”
“Yes, we’ve had a great time…”
I started to say but the food was being spread out so the adult conversation centred on that.
“Thank you for inviting us to join you all.”
It was Mrs Wilkinson’s turn to talk.
“It really is a splendid day and…” she said looking at the fine spread granny and Mrs D had set out, “you two really have the gift for baking… this all looks simply scrumptious.”
Ray-Ray was wearing a nightshirt like mine except with a different colour combination, whilst the young girl Bonnie just crawled around in her rather bulky nappy. Again it all seemed so normal and our blanket was a wonderful place on which to spread out. As he sprawled, stretched and yawned Ray-Ray’s jammies rode up and I could see the neatly pinned terry nappy he wore under an opaque pair of plastic pants. For some reason, as I bit into a fantastic piece of pie, I began to think whether I preferred fabric or disposables and was quite captivated by the choice made for him.
However, as we all enjoyed what was on offer, Mrs Wilkinson produced a couple of drinks for the kids. To my surprise at least, both Ray-Ray and Bonnie, who weren’t toddlers, drank their milk from baby’s bottles. Even Peter, who was the youngest of our little group, drank from a sippy cup and I wondered if granny had brought one for me. She hadn’t, I drank my chocolate milk from a refreshingly cold carton which was delicious. But I was thirsty and begged for a second, which of course granny let me have with a warning to take it easy seeing as I’d wolfed down the last so quickly. Despite my best intentions and with not a little embarrassment, I still somehow managed to get a large proportion of the cool brown milky substance down the front of my nightshirt.
“It’s a baby’s bottle for you in future.”
Granny said half seriously as she looked around at the others who were slurping and nursing without making a mess.
She pulled the stained nightshirt over my head and again I giggled as the tickly fabric sent ripples of pleasure around my body.
“I’ll let you rest now and I’ll sort out something else for you later.”
Lunch certainly wasn’t as noisy as it had been earlier and, as meals and drinks were finished, things got quieter and quieter until the entire assembly had drifted off as they would at nap time in kindergarten.
All around were snoozy and worn out youngsters snuggling up to their loved ones. All the adults seemed grateful for this lull in proceedings and appeared to join them in this calm interval. On our blanket granny, Mrs D and the two other adults were sitting in deckchairs, whilst we kids huddled close together on the warm fleecy blanket. Without my nightshirt I was just wearing my shiny blue protection. As sleep was about to engulf me I felt Peter snuggle up closer and wrap his arm around my slippery protection. I heard him sigh softly as he drifted off, slip his thumb between his lips and, with the weather being so pleasantly warm; it wasn’t long before I joined him.
I woke up to see Peter facing me and sucking on a dummy that had replaced his thumb whilst he still snoozed contentedly. Mrs Wilkinson was in the final act of changing Ray-Ray by pulling up his plastic pants and Mr Wilkinson was patting down his niece’s new pink plastic pants over her large nappy. I could see both fabric nappies held in place by two huge pins with pink safety covers. At the same moment I noticed this I also became aware that I’d wet myself. The chocolate milk had gone right through me and I’d filled my nappy. Granny was just about to see to my needs.
Some of the other children were already up and about, charging around like before and bouncing up and down on the inflatable castle. I heard my name called and being waved at so, as granny slipped off my rubber pants, I shouted back that I’d be with them shortly. She peeled away my soaked nappy and set about with a host of wet wipes to clean me up.
Ray-Ray and Bonnie had already run off to join their friends and Peter was still sleeping innocently on the blanket. Mrs D checked his padded bottom and grimaced, apparently her angelic little grandson had done more than wet himself. She shrugged, delved into her bag and retrieved another, much larger disposable and some extra padding. She let him doze as she pulled down his plastic pants and released his messy blue disposable. Granny had just about finished cleaning me up and was rustling a pair of see-thru plastic pants up my legs, they looked similar to the ones Peter was wearing and I assumed meant that any ‘accidents’ could be immediately identified.
“There.” She announce proudly. “My little sweetie is all spick and span.”
She kissed the top of my head and patted my thickly padded bottom and sent me on my way so I didn’t have to be a witness to the mess Peter had made. I was thankful.
The rest of the afternoon continued much the same as the morning and even running around in the hot sun didn’t seem to inhibit anyone’s spirits. We all seemed to have a terrific time though by around four-thirty we were all pretty well tuckered out.
Slowly the fun died down.
Eventually granny folded up the blanket and packed her bag and called for me as it was home time. I had one last bounce before I regained my trainers and waddled over to her. Peter and Mrs D had already gone; the Wilkinson’s had gone a lot earlier so although I didn’t want the games to end, I knew the party was ending. Someone else was packing up all the chairs and awnings so all we had to do was to say our farewells to those still left.
Granny held out her hand and once again I was more than happy to hold it as we toddled home, I even offered to carry her shoulder bag, which she seemed most grateful for. We chatted about the day, about the new friends I’d made and how fantastic I thought the idea of the pyjama party was. I told her I was surprised to see most teens, in fact all the kids, dressed in nightshirts like mine and asked why this was.
“Oh sweetie, we’ve been wearing nightshirts for many years, there’s a clever lady who makes them specifically for us here in the village.
“But why nightshirts and not, er, you know, normal pyjamas?”
“Well sweetheart, it’s down to access.”
I looked at her a little confused.
“It’s so much easier to change our sweet babies if they wear something that is easily accessible… and over the years we’ve found these nightshirts, which everyone seems to adore, the best system.”
The fact that an entire village of youngsters was wearing protection didn’t register as anything unusual. I accepted granny’s reasoning without question. I supposed, if I had to wear a nappy there was no reason why others didn’t feel the need as well and, as I’d found out, I was glad of them now.
None of the kids charging around at the party had questioned why they were wearing what they were and nor had I. I hadn’t assumed anything it just wasn’t something I thought needed an answer.
It was what it was and we all seemed happy enough with what that was.
We arrived home and the first thing granny did was check if I was damp or not. I was, very.
“OK sweetie let’s get your clammy nappy off and you in the bath for a nice long soak.”
I smiled and run up the stairs to strip off whilst gran filled the bath with one of her famous lavender bubble bombs. I’d never experienced these before I visited her home but I actually loved the smell, the way it made the water not only bubbly but also feel all silky and nice. My skin felt like I’d been well and truly pampered and sleek with a thin layer of exotic oils.
As granny suggested I soaked for a long time I took full advantage. I skipped the need to play with the little yellow duck but kept happily submerging myself below the tide of suds. I’d surface with foam piled on my head and looking in the mirror kept rearranging it to make beards, moustaches and the like. In contrast, the hairs ‘down below’ I’d developed and which had caused some unease when I’d on that first night were no longer a problem as they’d simply disappeared. Eventually granny came in like she had on that very first day and spread a towel inviting me to get out and dried. Where once there had been awkwardness and embarrassment about being naked in her presence, now I just climbed out and let her encircle me in the soft folds of her love.
As she rubbed me dry and whispered sweet words of love and encouragement in my ear, the feeling of being fourteen all but disappeared and it was wonderful returning to a part of my childhood where I was so valued, didn’t have to worry and my life was taken care of. Indeed, age seemed to have very little meaning because I’d been happily playing with kids of all ages and none of us cared. I suppose because we were all dressed roughly the same helped but it was just nice not having to worry what others might think or say. It just hadn’t mattered.
It was still only about six o’clock, there was still plenty of the day left but granny had already spread out my nightwear. It wasn’t all that different from what I’d been wearing all day so she just guided me over to the pile of stuff I was so getting used to and lay out. She took her time with the lotion, checking to make sure I hadn’t got any more of my body sunburnt before liberally smoothing it over my entire body. She had me roll over onto my tummy and took an equal amount of time making sure my back, neck and legs were all sufficiently coated. She even rubbed some into my bottom that had me giggling like a two year-old. Once that was done came the cloud of baby powder that she freely sprinkled everywhere, which set us both howling like hyenas.
A well stuffed fabric nappy was then tightly fastened in place, which reminded me of Ray-Ray’s and once again I couldn’t believe how granny knew so easily what I wanted. The pins were exactly the same and she smiled knowingly as I wriggled in total contentment when she finally slipped a new pair of thick white nursery print vinyl pants up my legs. I was both surprised and elated at this little extra because for some reason it had been another thing I’d desired from the moment I’d first laid eyes on them at the party.
Granny was brilliant she knew everything and made me feel like the luckiest person in the world to have her in my life. She finally eased a new white nightshirt over my head. If possible, and it was, the fabric was even softer and wrapped me in a fleecy hug I found overwhelming. The white fabric had the opening lines from nursery rhymes and cartoon representations of the subject and I found myself singing or saying them out loud to my audience of one.
The shirt was a lot shorter than normal and only came down to just over my hips, which meant that my matching protection was obviously on show. At first I wasn’t too sure I thought it looked very babyish but granny was full of praise, saying how nice and special it looked and that she’d had it made specifically for me. She hugged and rocked me in her arms and I could do nothing but respond with equal enthusiasm. Granny was the best, and, as the overpowering sensation of the new ultra-soft touch material caressed the upper part of my body, I could feel the nappy and pants embrace the lower in the same way.
It must have been because I’d had such a hectic day but suddenly I felt quite tired. I’d yawned and granny had asked if I was hungry or thirsty. I wasn’t starving because we’d been snacking all day but I wanted a drink and, ever attentive gran, put me to bed, pulled up the covers and then said she’d go and get me something whilst I rested.
The thing about granny’s bed is that it was incredibly comfortable. Once you sink into its soft mattress and slide under the sheets and blankets, it’s like you’re in your own personal cocoon. It may still have been early but I wallowed in the soft comforting bedding and its wonderful overwhelming welcome.
When gran returned I was almost asleep but she came and lay by my side and propped my head in her lap. I was only half aware that something was being pressed to my lips but that was enough for me to get the taste of warm strawberry milk. With no other thought than I wanted to drink I opened my mouth and a rubber nipple slipped in and before I really knew much about it, I was sucking and enjoying the fruity warm flavour and thoroughly enjoying the sweet experience.
All the time I suckled gran was hugging and humming the nursery rhymes that I’d been singing earlier. I reached under the covers and my hand gently slid across the bulging plastic pants, which also sent ripples of pleasure throughout my body. So that shudder of pleasure, together with the tasty treat I was slurping on, seemed to empty the bottle quickly. Once I’d finished I felt her kiss the top of my head and call me her ‘sweet little baby’ before I snuggled down deeper and drifted off.
The rest of my break at granny’s followed a similar pattern; either other kids came over to our house or I visited them at theirs and we played enthusiastically without a care in the world. Even though my outfit was now more baby-like, and my protection was always on show, it didn’t matter we all happily played together.
I vaguely remember waking up from a naptime and hearing Mr and Mrs Wilkinson talking to granny.
“… I know its more work but I do enjoy seeing them like this.”
Obviously I hadn’t caught the beginning of the conversation.
Ray-Ray and Bonnie were lying next to me on the blanket, both with dummies in their mouths and snoozing heavily. I had an empty baby’s bottle next to me but the teat was still resting between my lips.
“It’s a shame they have to go back to normal when its school time… they are far more trouble then.”
There was a murmur of agreement between the adults.
“This village is fantastic, everything about it is designed to encourage kids to be kids and enjoy life as a kid.”
It was Mr Wilkinson talking.
“No responsibilities, no worries… no growing up… even if it’s all just for a short while.”
“Better than never…” Mrs Wilkinson paused and then added, “and we get to have our babies back.”
Then I heard granny’s voice.
“I worry that my silly daughter and her equally silly husband will still be arguing instead of sorting out their problems.”
Her voice went softer.
“I hate to think of my poor little Sweet-pea having to put up with all that anxiety. Some time’s I wish I could just keep…”
There was a slight pause as Bonnie woke up and looked at her aunt.
“Auntie, I’m wet.”
“I know precious,” she replied. “We’ll get you all cleaned up when Ray-Ray wakes.”
Bonnie leant over to her brother and cheekily pulled the big blue dummy from his mouth. A string of drool accompanied it but it also woke him up.
One morning I woke up and granny suggested I have a bath, which of course I happily agreed to. This time there was no bubbles or fancy bath salts and the towel was draped over the peg on the bathroom door so I even had to dry myself. I ventured back into the bedroom and although granny wasn’t there my clothes were laid out on the bed ready for use. This time it was different.
Gone was my nappy and nightshirt and in their place were my other clothes; my jeans, jumper and underwear.
Granny called up the stairs.
“Hurry up sweetie, your mother will be picking you up in a short while and I don’t want to send you off without any breakfast.”
I’d forgotten that I’d have to return to school after my two week break and I really didn’t want to. My time with granny and the rest of the people in the village had been the best time of my life. I slipped into my underwear and it just didn’t seem right, I was missing that bulk but, as I was going home I suppose I couldn’t wear a nappy for that.
I sat at the kitchen table dressed pretty much as I’d arrived two weeks earlier. I slowly ate the bacon and eggs granny had cooked and her cheerful chat tried to keep my disappointment at bay. I didn’t want to leave but a new school term called and I couldn’t get out of it. I asked granny if it would be OK to come and visit her again during my next break, she said she’d like that a lot.
I gratefully sighed and smiled back at her – she was and is totally amazing.
There was a knock on the door and mum came in. She kissed gran and then kissed me and smiled at seeing me again.
“I’ve, er, we’ve missed having you around.” She ruffled my hair in a loving manner.
As I finished my breakfast granny and mum went into the conservatory to chat privately.
“OK sweetheart, we need to get an early start we have some shopping for new school clothes and I thought I’d treat you to a spot of lunch at the mall. Would you like that?”
I nodded semi-enthusiastically. I was going to miss granny but already I was forgetting why.
At the door I kissed granny goodbye and thanked her for having me.
“Anytime sweet-pea… there’s always a place for you here… whenever you need it.”
I slung my backpack onto the back seat of the car and climbed in beside mum in the front.
As we drove away a pang of… something… I wasn’t sure what rippled through my body.
When passed the sign that said WELCOME TO THURSWELL GREEN – children please drive carefully another shiver made me go quite rigid.
“Are you OK sweetheart?” Mum sounded concerned.
“Mmmm, yes, er, I think so… just sad to be leaving… “
Mum smiled and I was left wondering why exactly it was that I felt so depressed about leaving.
“Well, what have you been up to over the past fortnight?” Mum enquired.
“Oh, nothing much. Oh I did fall in the brook,” I smiled at the memory but then remembered something else. “Unfortunately it destroyed my Ipad.”
“Well that would explain why we hardly heard anything from you.”
I wasn’t sure if mum was thankful I’d not kept in touch or relieved but either way she made my day by saying that since we were going to be at the mall, perhaps we should get a new one. This booked me up no end and I was really pleased.
“Wow, thanks mum. I promise I’ll keep it safe.”
“What else have you been up to?”
“Oh nothing much.”
I really couldn’t remember much at all.
“Well as long as you got on well with granny.”
“Do you know she doesn’t have a TV… and… get this… doesn’t even miss it.”
Mum laughed in mock horror.
“So what on earth did you do to pass the time?”
“Mmmm, oh this and that, the weather was nice so I could get out and….”
I trailed off. I couldn’t remember much about anything I’d done.
Story is written by Les Lea
Definition of Winceyette:
Cloth made of cotton that has a raised surface, used especially for nightclothes.
I’m fourteen and have to go and stay at grandma’s house for a while. My parents are going through a tumultuous divorce and the constant shouting is having an effect on my nerves. My grades have deteriorated badly at school. I hardly sleep; continually worrying that the screaming might escalate into something much more violent. I lie in bed shaking and only drop off in a very fitful manner dreading the morning when I know it will start all over again.
This in turn has led to one or two night time accidents and I wake up to a wet bed, not really knowing when it could have happened as I’d hardly slept. The atmosphere in the house is terrible and I’m perpetually on guard not wishing anything I do adding to the general dysfunction of my family – so I hide my problem.
Grandma (from my mum’s side, my dad’s parents are both dead), thinks it disgraceful they should behave the way they do when I’m around and appear ignorant their actions have on me. She berated both of them and insisted that they “…got their act together or separate and not involve their highly impressionable child (me) in their ‘theatrics’”.
As soon as school finished for the Spring Break she insisted that I get away from the relentless bickering and spend some time with her. Now I love grandma, but spending any time at all with an old lady isn’t my idea of fun but her argument is sound; I need to get away and she is offering a sanctuary that isn’t available from anyone else.
It was an hour and a half drive to Grandma’s house and they even argued over whose responsibility it was to take me there. Tempers were rising and I simply couldn’t take any more so, I quickly shoved a few clothes in a bag, emptied my piggy bank and took the four hour, three bus changes ride to arrive completely shattered. This was partly due to the fact she lived at the edge of a village in a rather sweet one-bedroom cottage but which is a mile or so walk from the bus stop. Of course I was expected but she also expected that someone would have brought me. She was furious, she also thinks I need protecting from strangers (not sure what she thinks will happen on a bus); she forgets that I’m fourteen and can look after myself. So, she was once again angry with my self-obsessed parents and called them to let them know her disapproval, and of course that I’d arrived safely.
I could hear her lay into my mother about how terrible it was to be subjected to hearing a constant stream of invective and anger even if it wasn’t directed at me. Grandma thought I was far too sensitive to have to put up with such antagonism but also listened to mum bleating on with ‘her side of the story’. Grandma’s final words were.
“…no thanks to you two self-absorbed, unthinking bastards.”
Yep, that’s what she called them down the phone “BASTARDS”. I was both shocked and amused that she should think in such a way about her daughter and son-in-law.
Once her duty to inform them was out of the way then all her energy turned to me and the huge cuddle that followed was very welcome. I didn’t expect it but I burst into tears, perhaps she was correct, I was too sensitive. Whether through relief or what I’m not sure, but granny’s sweetly perfumed embrace meant the world to me. I left a huge wet tear stain on her pale yellow woollen cardigan but she didn’t seem concerned, her only thoughts were that I was safe, away from all the aggravation and determined that I should have an untroubled stay.
In recognition of my visit she’d been baking and the homemade pies and tarts that appeared to cover every surface of the small but highly functional kitchen bode well. One thing for certain, I wasn’t going to starve whilst at granny’s house.
When I was younger I’d stayed with grandma quite a few times and I’d always shared her bed, which was OK but now I was more grown up I thought I’d be kipping on the couch. However, granny has a routine, and one she’s had as long as I can remember and that was – guests take a bath before bed.
It was only about 8pm but I was well tuckered out and she noticed my eyes start to close. The meal she’d cooked, the lovely coal fire and the lack of any screaming certainly had me relaxing for the first time in many months. She smiled and suggested that, as she’d snuck off to run a bath whilst I dozed, I should take full advantage of the bubbles she’d added. I loved the fact that granny, as old as she was, still wanted to take care of me, something both mum and dad had been neglecting for some time.
I went to the bathroom and stripped down piling my sweaty clothes on the dresser and slipped gingerly into the hot steamy suds. The smell of lavender filled the space and the bath itself was slippery from the amount of foam she’d added to the water, the entire effect was one of tranquil bliss so I closed my eyes and just soaked in its warm embrace.
I fell asleep.
I woke up to granny peering down at me and smiling.
“Gosh, you really did need to get away didn’t you?”
I smiled back my agreement.
“Well I think you’d better get out otherwise you’ll turn into a wrinkled prune.”
She held out a fluffy blue towel and encouraged me to get out of the bath.
“It’s ok gran I can see to myself.”
I said nervous about being fourteen and being dried by my granny.
“I’m sure you can but…” and there was a twinkle in her eye, “why should you when I’m here to look after you.”
The towel did look very inviting and I nervously raised myself up but although the water had lost a great deal of its heat it was still very slippery and my grip on the side of the bath slipped as my feet slid along the bath floor and I made a huge splash that soaked granny.
I was embarrassed but she was laughing and although dripping herself, still held up the towel encouraging me to make more of an effort. My nervousness about the hairs that I’d developed quite recently left me; after all she wouldn’t be seeing anything she hadn’t seen before. I was still a little ashamed at splashing her but thought I couldn’t delay the inevitable any longer.
As she encircled me in the towel it brought back happy memories of when, as a child, she’d do this to me after a bath and the thorough rubbing would be followed, if tradition was being upheld, by a nice mug of milky cocoa before bed. Once she was sure I was dry she led me to her bedroom and I noticed some items piled on top of the blankets. I still assumed that somehow, or somewhere, in that small house there would be another bed, or sofa, that I would be sleeping on but apparently I was wrong.
I looked, somewhat bewildered, at the stuff granny had prepared. In my haste to get to her place I’d not packed any pyjamas and the few items I had in my backpack were just a couple of shirts, t-shirts and undies, I wasn’t well equipped at all.
“I’m sorry about this sweetheart,” Granny looked serious and apologetic, “but you mother mentioned you’ve been having night time accidents at home.”
This information came as a bit of a shock, I didn’t know that mum knew… she’d never said anything. However, coming home from school I suppose the fact that there was washing still in the machine and perhaps my room had a tell-tale odour, she’d managed to put the pieces together. Maybe she wasn’t as self-absorbed as I’d thought.
I was uncomfortable that granny now knew and also ashamed. I felt humiliated and tried to hide my suddenly tearful gaze.
“Don’t worry sweetheart, with what you’ve been through I can’t say I’m surprised.”
She put her arm around my shoulder and gave me a tender hug.
“However, we will be sharing a bed so I need to know that you are both comfortable and safe.”
I tried to be grown up and said that I’d brought a t-shirt and underwear for bed but she just gently shook her head.
“No.” She pointed to a bundle of items that were there ready for me.
Although I’d noticed them I hadn’t paid that much attention as to what exactly was in the pile but suddenly realised that the white cloth item on top was in fact a thick terry nappy.
“But granny, I’m too old for that…”
“Sweetheart, you’re never too old to take precautions.”
“But, but, er, I, er, mmm…”
My argument was slipping away as easily as the comforting towel she gently eased from my shoulders leaving me naked on the bed. She unfolded the huge terry square and refolded it into the shape of a nappy and slid it under my bare bottom. She sprinkled powder and reminded me that as a kid I used to enjoy that part the best. I was mesmerised with what was happening. I couldn’t lash out at granny but I certainly didn’t want to wear a nappy. However, I remembered that I had left my own bed at home in a soaked state so perhaps this thick protection might not be such a bad idea.
Anyhow, I just couldn’t see myself arguing with granny and by the time I’d got my thoughts in order I was powdered and pinned in and she was shuffling a large pair of white plastic pants up my legs. She patted them into place and I just knew I’d never get my boxers over them as I looked around for them and my t-shirt.
Granny was way ahead of me as she unfolded what looked like a pair of fleecy-style brown plaid pyjamas. She pulled what I thought was the top over my head and gently slid it down over my body. It kept going so she got me to stand up as it came down well below my knees.
“Granny, er, I can’t wear this, it’s, it’s, er…”
“Don’t be silly, it’s a nightshirt, a lovely Winceyette nightshirt.”
She smoothed it down and over my bulging nappy.
“This should keep you nice and snug while you’re here.”
She patted my padded bottom and suggested we go down stairs for cocoa.
I was reluctant to go anywhere, especially with the thickness surrounding my crotch but I figured that granny was probably wise enough to know when ‘protection’ was needed and it would certainly save me some embarrassment should I wet myself in the night, especially as we’d be sharing her bed.
I felt strange. In fact, the whole process had seemed totally, how can I put it, er, out of body? It felt like it was happening to somebody else, well, perhaps it was a younger version of me but it certainly wasn’t me now. However, the fabric did feel nice against my skin. The cotton was soft and yet felt unlike anything I’d ever worn before. If I was to compare it to anything I would say it had the texture and smoothness of a fluffy kitten. There was an immediate sense of comfort as I waddled down stairs and settled myself in front of the fire whilst granny went to the kitchen to get our hot drinks organised.
The cottage was detached, had a fairly large garden, which gran loved to potter around in, but was quite small; a kitchen and living room on the ground floor and a bedroom and bathroom upstairs. A few years ago she’d had a small conservatory built onto the back, which was fitted out with wicker furniture; the place really caught the sun when it shined. It was a lovely place to relax in summer.
Her living room was just as you’d expect for a country cottage; old but comfortable, well-stuffed chintzy style furniture, wooden dresser and display cabinets. There were photos of the family displayed around the room; me as a seven year-old, mum, dad and me when I was a baby and several shots of mum’s sister Jane and her family. Aunty Jane and Uncle Tom I think were happily married and, whereas I’m an only child, I have four cousins; Thomas is the eldest and the same age as me, Julie is twelve, Toby is eleven and they have a new baby, Benjamin. There were photographs of them all amongst the ones of us, as well as a lovely image of Grandpa when he was younger and in uniform. Three walls had flowery green and brown wallpaper and one wall was painted a dark brown but the overall effect was one of cosiness. The brown wall held a fabulous painting of a sunrise over the village that a local artist had done many years earlier. I loved the cottage; it was homely and always made me feel welcome.
The fire crackled in the grate and a small ancient TV sitting in the corner fit nicely with the surroundings but I wondered how gran could put up with such a small screen. When she returned baring a couple of steaming mugs of cocoa and some biscuits I asked her, but she replied that she didn’t, as it hadn’t worked for over two years and not missed it one bit. I sipped my drink and felt the sweet taste and warming glow in my tummy filter throughout my entire body. I had a fleeting thought that this stay was going to be a long one if there was no TV but I had brought my IPad so it should be OK.
Granny was telling me all about the last visit from Aunty Jane’s family and that their eldest son Thomas had stayed with her when aunty was in hospital having little Benjamin. He also had a slight wetting problem and that’s how come she was prepared for my ‘needs’. She smiled as she said how quickly you can get things organised as a result of a wet bed. I swallowed hard hoping that my shame was not that obvious.
Again I was embarrassed that she’d brought the subject up but I understood she was just trying to let me know I wasn’t alone and that it wasn’t a huge problem so I shouldn’t worry. That was perhaps easier said than done. However, the cocoa was very soothing and sitting in front of her roaring fire, I soon forgot all my problems and dozed resting my head against grandma’s shoulder.
Time didn’t seem to matter as she guided me upstairs to her comfy bedroom and pulled back the covers for me to get in. The weight and bulkiness between my legs had given me a crinkly little gait but there was no doubt about it, the entire outfit left me feeling both comfortable and, strangely, loved.
The nightshirt hung on me with no bunching and the material next to my skin was soothing, just like my old teddy bear. I ran my hand over it all and for some reason it made me smile, it was if it was giving me back a pleasant memory. I wriggled contentedly and was asleep before granny came to bed.
For the first time in many months I slept soundly throughout the night.
I woke up and stretched and for a moment the unfamiliar surroundings left me confused. Thankfully, I recognised where I was and turned to see if granny was still sleeping. I’d dropped off before she came to bed and I slept so heavily I didn’t experience her near me at any time during the night. However, I could see the vacant dent and slightly askew sheet and blankets that proved where she’d been. I yawned and stretched further and could vaguely hear her down in the kitchen and if I wasn’t mistaken, she was cooking breakfast. The smell of frying bacon had wafted up the stairs and I was surprisingly hungry.
I pulled back the blankets and lifted my legs to get up when I saw that the nightshirt had bundled up past my hips and left my glossy protection on view. I’d forgotten all about that but now its presence was evident I suddenly realised that I was WET.
I was filled with panic as I brushed my hand over the sheets I’d only moments before been fast asleep on. Thank God they were dry. I examined the nightshirt and that was also dry so it was only the nappy that was wet – I was both thankful and appalled. How could I have wet in my granny’s bed and with her in it? I heard her coming up the stairs and quickly climbed back under the bedclothes hoping that I wouldn’t have to admit to anything but granny being granny, she gently set a cup of tea on the bedside table and assumed I was awake.
“Morning sweetheart, sleep well.”
“Mmmm,” I commented under a mock yawn.
“Well I’m making breakfast and it will be ready in about five minutes, meanwhile here’s a nice cuppa to rouse you…”
She then added off the cuff as if it was the most normal thing to say.
“… don’t worry about your wet nappy now; we can get you cleaned up after breakfast.”
She wasn’t asking, she was telling me as if she knew or at least expected it. My face went beet-red as I hid behind a quick slurp of tea.
“Would you like fried eggs or scrambled?” She said in the doorway as an afterthought.
“Erm, er, scrambled please.”
“OK sweetheart, don’t be too long I don’t want it to get cold.”
I was sitting up in bed, hugging my tea and thinking what a baby I was wetting myself for no reason. I couldn’t blame my parents arguing as I’d had the best night’s sleep for ages and yet here I was sitting in a soaked nappy.
After a few more sips I decided to get up. I pulled the ruffled up nightshirt back to where it should be, covering my damp shame, and even more gingerly waddled down to the kitchen.
I arrived just as granny piled the eggs on the plate with several rashers of bacon, beans and mushrooms. I took my seat and was very aware of the squishiness in my nappy; thankfully there was only a slight crinkle to announce my arrival. For a woman her age granny was incredibly nimble and I could tell that not only had she made breakfast, I could hear the washing machine going, probably the second load as I could see out the window there were already some items hanging out on the line.
She asked if I had any plans for the day but in truth, I hadn’t thought about doing anything. I’d stayed in the village on many occasions so had seen all it had to offer. However, there were innumerable walks and pretty sites to visit if the weather stayed nice.
Once I’d finished breakfast granny suggested that I slip out of my damp nappy so she could get it washed and out on the line whilst the sun shone. So I toddled back upstairs to change. I wasn’t expecting her to follow me and became quite embarrassed that she planned to watch me strip but she actually had a confession.
“Sorry sweetheart but the stuff in your backpack was all creased and to be honest, smelled a bit funny so I’ve put all your things in the wash. Everything should be dry by tonight and I can iron them and make you more presentable.
“What about the clothes I arrived in?”
She shrugged. “Sorrrrryy. They were pretty smelly after your long journey. They are all in a long wash at the moment.”
“Oh. I’m not sure what I can wear then. Do you have any suggestions?”
“Well, if you’re not going anywhere, you can just wear your nightshirt…”
She suddenly had a thought.
“Have a ‘pyjama day’ I think it’s called.”
“Well I suppose I’ll have to.”
I didn’t fancy wearing any of granny’s clothes. I laughed at the very idea, what was I thinking?
“But let’s get you out of that wet nappy first and into something a bit drier.”
For some reason I thought she must have kept some of my underwear back from the wash for just this occasion but once I was out of the plastic pants and soaked nappy nothing else was forthcoming. Well, I thought, I could just potter around in my nightshirt, although I have to say, the soft and fluffy material was constantly brushing against sensitive parts of my body sending ripples of pleasure to places I’d rather granny not know about.
She brought in some wet wipes and more powder and draped over her arm was another pre-folded nappy.
“I think we need to clean you up first and I also insist that you wear something next to your… er…”
She was pointing in my groin.
“But granny,” I was already whining like a two year-old, “I can’t wear a nappy around the house.”
“Why not, there’s only the two of us here and I’m not keen on you wondering around not decent.”
I know I could have argued that it was her fault that I was in this position but I hadn’t been brought up to quarrel with the elderly and certainly not my grandmother. I think if I had, and it had got back to my parents that I was squabbling with her, then they may well have both got together to give me a sound spanking before they went back to their own quarrel. No I simply had to suck it up and do what she suggested.
I’m fourteen; the nappy-wearing came as a bit of a shock; the fact that she intended me to wear it about the house, as well as at night (when I could see her point), made me feel very uncomfortable. I know she was trying to make me feel loved and untroubled but the idea was nagging at me that this was a step too far. However, granny is such a human dynamo, that she simply set too and removed the saturated object, wiped and powdered my groin and fastened me in the dry one and slipped another pair of white rubber pants up my legs.
This time something happened.
The nightshirt never left my body during the entire operation. In fact, she’d just pushed it up over my belly and set to work whilst I still enjoyed the fleecy softness against my chest. It rubbed against my nipples and again I felt that shiver of ‘appreciation’ run through my body. Some of the fabric was tickling my neck and chin, which set me off giggling like a baby and I was surprised to feel an emotion I hadn’t felt for quite some time. Utter devotion. Granny certainly made me feel like I was the centre of her world and that everything she did, or was doing, was solely for my benefit… and it felt wonderful.
This strange piece of clothing was helping me appreciate so much more. Not only was it offering warmth and comfort but, together with the oddly reassuring nappy, I experienced an inner calm that spread around my body leaving each nerve ending with a special uplifting glow.
I stood up and granny kissed me and said that I should be OK for the rest of the day.
I was vibrating with pleasure as the nightshirt gently scuffed the back of my calves, tickling and caressing me at the same time; the nappy no longer making me worry but offered reassurance. I’d never felt more at ease as I settled myself in the tiny conservatory to enjoy the morning sun and catch up with email on my IPad.
Ooops, I’d forgotten that granny didn’t have Wi-Fi or broadband so, apart from listening to my music files, the odd game and catching up writing up some of my homework, the wonderful machine was useless. Thankfully, granny knew that the pub and the Tea Room in the village both had Wi-Fi, so, I could catch up by treating myself to a cuppa at some point. However, that wasn’t going to be any time soon as I only had my nightshirt and I wasn’t about to parade around the village dressed like that. I was at a loss as to what I could do to occupy my fourteen year-old brain now the electronic part of my plan had collapsed. The TV was useless but granny spent most of the day with the radio on in the background and seemed more than happy with that as company. She’d already done all the baking so I couldn’t do anything like that. My clothes were gently wafting in the breeze but the sun was un-seasonally warm so perhaps I would just sun myself in the back garden.
Granny thought that was a great idea because she had to go off to an old folk’s home later as she was a visitor and didn’t want to let down those less able than herself. Typical of the woman, she was there to help others and I half-heartedly felt I should offer to join her. She thanked me for volunteering but thought it better if I stayed home and relaxed. She was of the opinion that I needed a calming influence and the old folk’s home, she said with a smile, was anything but that.
She laid a blanket out on the grass and told me to help myself to anything in the fridge or food in the pantry and that she’d only be gone for about three hours. I heard a horn blast and granny saying her lift had arrived, after she kissed the top of my head, she was out the door and on her way.
Even though it was relatively early, just after 10am, the sun was very warm and as I grabbed a book to read I spread myself out and tried to concentrate on one of the ‘Historical Romance’ novels gran liked so much. It didn’t keep my attention for long and I was getting pretty hot in my nightshirt. Hesitantly I slowly removed it, and giggled as the tickly material slipped over my skin. I was sitting on the blanket wearing just my protection and the bright white of my pants glared for a moment in the sun. I hazily thought that perhaps I’d get an all over tan before summer and that might be nice. I folded the nightshirt and placed it under my head and then spread myself luxuriantly in the sun enjoying its caressing rays.
I woke up to find granny quietly chatting with someone else seemingly also enjoying the early sun. Then I realised that it must be much later than I thought as she’d said she’d be away for around three hours. As I became a little more conscious I realised that she was talking with her neighbour Mrs Davies, they were sat at a small table sipping tea.
“Ahh, would you like a cool drink dear?” She asked noticing my eyes flickering against the sun.
“Mmmm, yes please granny…”
“Good afternoon.” Mrs Davies smiled and nodded in my direction.
“Oh, er, yes, good afternoon Mrs Davies, er, how are you?”
Her smile broadened even more before a wistful look came into her eyes.
“Well I wish I could lie out in the sun like you dear, but alas, those days have gone.”
“Me and you both.” Granny nodded sagely.
It was only then I become conscious of the fact that I was lying there dressed in so little.
Suddenly overcome with embarrassment I made to rise and get the drink myself but gran was already on her way to the kitchen. Laying there and looking at Mrs Davies I took in the fact that I’d slept for quite a number of hours wearing just my nappy. I was very warm and I was sweating heavily and the damn thing appeared to have soaked up every bit of perspiration. It took me until granny arrived back with my drink to realise that I had in fact wet myself again.
How the hell had that happened?
I wasn’t sure what to do by way of hiding myself but I suppose it was way too late for that as granny brought my drink.
“Here you are dear,” she handed the cooling glass to me, “but I don’t think you should lie around in such a wet nappy for too long, I don’t want you getting a rash.”
How on Earth did she know?
Mrs Davies took another sip of tea.
“My Sally was forever wetting her nappy,” she shrugged, “I don’t know what it is about young ‘uns but sometimes they seem to forget how to use the bathroom properly.”
“Yes I remember,” Granny was joining in, “Thomas was the same… kept forgetting to go potty”
I coughed, trying to hide my embarrassment and divert this course of conversation, so asked how long I’d been asleep.
“Well, it’s two thirty now, so…”
She left it for me to work it out.
Again I flushed red even though the sun had given me enough of a tan to hide my shame, but granny beckoned me to follow her into the house. First I went to check on my clothes hanging in the sun and they were almost dry but granny said she wanted to iron them all before I should wear them. Again, I’m not going to argue with her so I just shrugged, grabbed my nightshirt and followed her inside. My shiny waddling bottom no doubt letting Mrs Davies know exactly how wet I was.
Mr Davies continued sipping her tea as granny and I disappeared back into the house.
“Sorry gran, I don’t know how it’s happened, I feel such an idiot.”
I was looking down at the bloated mass between my legs and thankful that the plastic pants had kept everything in place.
“Don’t worry dear, accidents happen and, after what you’ve had to contend with over the last few months, I’m not surprised.”
She was being very supportive.
“But why I should have piss… er, wet myself…” I was confused and embarrassed though it appeared not to be worrying gran.
“Look sweetheart, you’ve had plenty of things to worry about so now you are here… all I can suggest is that you let them all go and let granny look after you.”
She looked both serious and understanding and I desperately wanted to forget about my home life.
She patted my shoulder sympathetically.
“Look let’s get you changed and, might I suggest, you need some after-sun, you’ve already got a bit of a tan.”
I was glowing so once I’d wriggled out of my plastic pants and dropped my nappy you could see a nice little tan line.
Within seconds granny had a soothing cream which, despite my mild protest, she was intent on spreading into me. I’d never felt as relaxed as granny’s fingers gently smeared the oily lotion into my shimmering skin. I closed my eyes and let my thoughts drift as he fingers soothed. Once she was satisfied that I wouldn’t burn or peel from my sunbathing, she slipped another nappy under me and pinned me in. She did it all so fast I didn’t realise or have time to object, besides, I was getting used to granny looking after me.
As she once again pulled the nightshirt over my head I felt the comforting soft, fleecy material tickle as it enveloped my newly tanned body. The thrill as it slipped across my skin was electric and welcoming; I never wanted this incredible sensation to stop. The fact that I was once again wearing a nappy under it made me walk slightly differently, but when we joined Mrs Davies back in the garden, any inhibitions I might have had had disappeared.
The warm afternoon with me floating around in my nappy and nightshirt made me think I was on a tropical island or maybe some hippy commune somewhere (I’d heard about them but never experienced either of these places). Whatever granny’s secret was, it was most definitely working because my cares had drifted away and I loved the easy attitude and lack of worry she had given me.
Mrs Davies asked me about school and friends, ambitions and general topics, never once delving into family matters, well not my family anyway. We all sat chatting for some time and I was amazed at how often the conversation crept round to wet nappies and the problems both these adults had with getting their children and grand-children toilet-trained. Thankfully, such talk no longer embarrassed me and I zoned out for most of it although I did realise, or at least thought I realised, they were saying what they did to make me feel better about my little ‘accident’. It was strange, the way they talked it was as if they almost expected kids to have accidents and it was all normal and taken in their stride.
Once Mrs Davies had gone back to her own place granny started on our evening meal, which included one of her fabulous meat and potato pies with thick gravy, a personal favourite. She knew of my liking for anything pastry based so there was a fruit pie and custard to finish, I was in seventh heaven. No doubt when I eventually did return home I’d weigh a good number of pounds more… and I wasn’t bothered, granny just kept the fantastic meals coming.
That night after my bath granny once again had a nappy ready for me to sleep in. I could hardly object seeing as how I’d wet myself both night and day but I hoped this would be the last time. She’d ironed all my clothes and they were waiting on the dresser all neatly folded and ready for the morning when I had plans to go down to the Tea Rooms and use their Wi-Fi.
This time she unfurled a plain red winceyette nightshirt over my head, which if it was possible felt even more wonderful. There was just something about the way the fibres tickled and caressed my skin that gave it an unbelievable quality, one that made me immediately at peace with the world.
I felt quite floppy, whether it was the hot bubble bath or the nightshirt or a combination of both I’m not sure but I felt like a little kid again. I was giddy and childish and if granny had blown on my tummy I’m sure I would have been giggling like a toddler, and yet it didn’t feel disconcerting.
When we returned to the living room I was in two minds whether to listen to my IPad with my headphones but decided that would be incredibly rude. Granny turned on the radio and it played some really old songs from her era, which at first I didn’t like but gradually they grew on me. At one point there was one I actually remember from when I was quite small myself. It was a kiddie sing-a-long type of tune and before I knew it, both granny and I were singing along like we were competing at a karaoke competition… or more likely a baby’s birthday party.
That night granny and I both retired together. She smelled wonderful and it didn’t take long after a kiss on the cheek I fell into a wonderful deep sleep.
I woke up and once again granny had disappeared and there was a cuppa on the bedside table. I could see it was steaming so had only recently been placed there. Granny was no doubt busying herself with whatever it was she found to do, whilst I just sat up in bed and enjoyed my morning brew. It took a couple of minutes to realise I’d wet myself and I sighed in frustration hoping against hope that this wasn’t going to be a regular occurrence. I toddled to the bathroom took off my nightshirt and slid the offending soaked items to the floor. Grabbing a flannel I cleaned myself up and, like granny had done before, slicked on some lotion before completing the operation with a sprinkling of talc.
I returned to the bedroom and of course all my clothes lay on the dresser all washed and neatly ironed. This is the type of service mum hadn’t provided for quite some time and I was grateful that granny had gone to so much trouble, even my underwear had been pressed. I quickly got dressed and wondered down to the kitchen.
I sat down and for some reason it was very noticeable that I didn’t have the padding that I’d become used to. My underwear seemed very sparse and unsubstantial and I wriggled trying to get comfortable but the chair felt very hard under my bum.
Over cereal gran asked me if I had any plans as I appeared dressed for a trip out.
“I thought I’d wonder down to the Tea Room and catch up on my emails and stuff.”
“That sounds like a plan dear.” She encouraged, “But don’t forget you’ll have to buy something whilst you are there, I don’t think they’ll let you use their facilities for nothing. Do you need any money?”
Once again gran was all concern and helpfulness and I suddenly felt guilty about leaving her alone, which was silly because she was one of the most independent women I’d ever met.
“It’s the Carter’s who own it, Deidre and Malcolm, if you need anything tell them I’m your grandmother and I’ll…”
“It’s OK granny, I’m sure I can manage… anything.”
I smiled although I noticed a strange note of irritation creeping into my voice.
“I’m fourteen for Christsake; I can manage to buy a cup of tea… I don’t need mollycoddling.” The thought ran through my head.
“Er, I’m sure I can cope… thanks granny. I have my own money so should be OK.”
Whether she’d detected my brief testiness I wasn’t sure as she just carried on with the washing up. However, I was shocked as to why I’d suddenly become irritable with the very person who was doing all she could to free me from my worries.
Guiltily I asked if there was anything I could do to help before I set off and she requested I peg out the washing, whilst she cleaned upstairs. It was the very least I could do so emptied the machine into a basket and sauntered out into the fresh morning air. Actually, it was already quite warm with a very gentle breeze, a perfect day for drying.
I hadn’t given it much thought but as I pegged each item out I realised that they were mostly my terry nappies, they looked huge hanging in the sunshine. My plastic pants were there, my brown nightshirt, a couple of towels and tea towels, a yellow sheet and that was about it. I stood back and looked along the line and watched as the breeze slowly flapped my nappies. For some reason I began to feel a bit ashamed. Not about having worn them but at not wearing them now. My thin underwear beneath my jeans failing to offer the fullness and protection my nappies had.
What a strange thought to have suddenly come into my head. I shivered in confusion and wondered why I should even think such a thing. I shook my head in disbelief but thought it best to start on my way to the Tea Room; after all it was over a mile to walk.
It didn’t seem as far as when I’d arrived in the village but there again I hadn’t travelled for over four hours or been incredibly tired. As I strode along the country road I passed several gardens and everyone seemed to think it was a wonderful day to hang out their washing. In almost every garden there were several billowing terry squares and colourful plastic pants fluttering in the breeze. I wondered if the village had suddenly increased its population by an explosion in the birth rate. However, it seemed only a few minutes before I was ensconced at a table in the Tea Room with my IPad open and a fizzy can of Coke at my side.
Time just shot by as I replied to my emails, downloaded some more music and caught up on a couple of my favourite TV programmes. During that time I’d also downed a couple of fruit juices and a pot of tea complete with a piece of fudge cake. Yum.
It appeared that Deidre Carter knew who I was, well at least that I was staying at my grans house, as she asked me to take a message back with me. She was very friendly and chatty (the place wasn’t that busy) but again I found myself getting irritated that I wasn’t being left alone. However, she didn’t charge me for the use of her Wi-Fi and I even got that first Coke for free so I couldn’t complain.
With all that liquid inside me it would have been sensible to go to the toilet there but seeing the time, I’d spent almost five hours engrossed with my gadget, I guiltily wanted to get back as soon as possible. Deidre gave me an envelope to give to gran and, smiling sweetly said the strangest thing.
“Nice seeing you again, I remember you as a baby… happy days… it’s good to have you back.”
As I left the shop I wondered when we’d met but couldn’t recollect having ever seen her before.
Alas, as I walked back along the road my bladder was pleading with me for release and I knew I’d not make it all the way without an accident.
I saw some trees down a slight embankment and thought they would shield me from the road while I did what I had to do. Unfortunately, as I stepped onto the grassy verge, I wasn’t really looking where I was going and my foot got caught up in a low lying bramble. I stumbled over that and found myself careering down the slope.
My newly washed jumper was suddenly covered in soil and grass stains as I plummeted the short distance to the bottom ripping my jeans in the process. However, that wasn’t the end of it as a small, muddy brook pooled there and I slid head first right into it. As I lay there semi-stunned my bladder gave way and I soaked myself. The warm pee was quickly doused by the cold muddy water seeping into everything. Even my IPad was awash in the canvas satchel I carried it in. I was angry but had no one to blame but my own stupidity. I only hoped my electronic gadget wasn’t damaged.
I sat in the murky brook trying to turn it on and get it to work but it was useless. The mucky water had not only killed my IPad but soaked my clean jeans, splattered my t-shirt and jumper and I could only guess at the soiled state my underwear was in.
As I trudged the half mile or so back to granny’s place I was furious with the world and all my worries and anger at my parents returned with a vengeance as inexplicably I began to cry in exasperation.
“Oh dear, what’s happened?”
Granny greeted me at the door as I stumbled in covered head to toe in muck and filth.
“I fell in the brook.”
I was a mess and through my tears the words came out as a pathetic childish whine rather than the voice of a fourteen year-old.
“Oh my poor darling,” she was so sympathetic, “let’s get you changed and into something cleaner and drier.”
I pulled the sodden and filthy envelope from my pocket.
“Sorry gran, Mrs Carter asked me to give you this but, er, it might be illegible.”
“Not to worry dear, it’s probably just a special order for some pastries… I make them for the Tea Rooms. Mrs Davies makes the cakes – we both have our secret recipes that are in demand. It’s quite a little industry.” She beamed.
I think it was yet another demonstration of how self-sufficient granny was and not in any way some sad old lady shuffling around in her final days.
She helped me out of all my clothes in the kitchen and left them by the washing machine; it seemed that the job of doing my washing was going to be a never ending process. She wrapped a towel around and led me up to the bathroom and, because she didn’t have a shower, again filled the bath.
The confident, if agitated young person who’d walked into the village had returned nothing more than a mucky little tyke who couldn’t keep themselves clean.
As the hot water flowed I stood worrying about this peculiar anger that had, thankfully only fitfully, suddenly come over me after I’d been so happy and relaxed. Now I was standing naked and wrapped in a towel I felt more like a stupid kid than my real age. My body shook like I was a naughty child who was about to be punished and I sensed my bottom lip quiver as if I was about to burst into tears.
However, once gran had checked it wasn’t too hot I slipped under the warm water and let myself soak. This time there were no suds but granny cheekily grabbed something off the shelf and dropped it in next to me, it was a plastic yellow duck.
“Have fun while I sort out your clothes.”
My initial thought was ‘how childish’ but soon I was pushing it around making quacking noises completely absorbed in my own little world.
The clear water began to get slightly discoloured as the mud was washed away but not before I noticed a slightly pale yellow stream of pee get caught up in the bath’s undercurrent and slowly dissipate. It took a few seconds to realise it was me who was responsible because I’d had no forecast it was about to happen. However, the duck was providing me with enough entertainment so I didn’t let the shame distract me from my watery fun.
Granny came back and, after shampooing the dirt out of my hair, dried me with a huge fluffy towel. I was led back into the bedroom where another pile of clothes lay waiting.
“I’m sure you don’t want to sweetheart but…”
She pointed to the nappy already arranged for my bottom.
“I think it will be safer in the long run dear.”
She must have noticed that I’d peed my pants on the way home and was taking further precautions. Perhaps she somehow knew I’d peed in the bath. I couldn’t blame her; she quite rightly didn’t want some pee-happy person ruining her nice furniture.
Bizarrely, I wasn’t as bothered about it as much as I thought I should be. In fact, as she oiled, powdered and pinned me into its terry thickness that feeling of annoyance I’d had brooding all day completely disappeared.
She fished a new pair of thick pink plastic pants from under the pile and wriggled them up my legs and into place. They were such a colourful contrast to the white ones she’d previously had me wearing something clicked and I had a smile on my face – I didn’t know why.
Granny smoothed them over my nappy; the subtle rustle announcing I was now well protected, which made her beam with satisfaction.
“Well sweetheart, these are definitely the right pants for you.”
She stroked the front and back arranging for the white terry pillow between my legs to be completely encased by the thick bright slippery cover.
I looked down at the glowing shiny bulk and wriggled with pleasure, even though I’d never worn pink before, it did look nice. As granny patted my well cushioned bottom I produced carefree murmurs of childish delight, which were echoed by her.
Finishing off she pulled a fleecy pink nightshirt over my head that had blue cartoon rabbits gambolling all over it. I was giggling with glee as the material delighted different parts of my skin.
It was incredibly childish but the soft cotton fabric once again enveloped my body making me instantly feel as if I was being nuzzled by a hundred fluffy bunnies; their warm silken coats producing an exquisite, feel-good sensation.
No matter how infantile it may have appeared, I never wanted to leave this garment’s furry embrace.
“Oh sweetheart,” granny was smiling, “you look so… so… so cute.”
I didn’t care. Dressed in my nappy, the new, sturdier plastic pants and the wonderfully infantile nightshirt I was no longer worried about anything. Granny was snuggling with me on the bed and saying I was her sweet little baby who looked very sleepy and perhaps should take a nap.
I did feel tired but didn’t want to sleep it was still too sunshiny outside. However, as granny soothed me by stroking my hair and patting my well-padded bottom I slowly felt my body drifting into peaceful slumber.
When my eyes fluttered shut I could hear granny whispering to herself.
“There, there little darling, time to let go and enjoy a life with no worries.”
She continued to stroke my hair as I slipped further and further into a calming bliss.
“I think we’ve found the right nightshirt to suit your sweet, sensitive temperament – tomorrow, we’ll find you some new playmates.”
An intense tingling glow radiated around my body. I yawned and stretched and surprisingly gurgled as the warm sensation settled in my reassuring nappy.
As granny pulled the blankets over me the emotion of complete contentment engulfed my mind.
“Night-night sweetheart… granny will take good care of her sweet little baby.”
Story is written by Les Lea
At this moment Michael de Vie is probably the most famous seventeen year-old in the world. His six number one records and two best-selling albums of the past two years have rocketed this sweet natured, blond-haired, blue-eyed, good-looking, talented young singer into mega-star status.
His two sell-out world tours were seen by an estimated audience of three million, whilst any magazine or newspaper that carries his photo or a story (true or false) has the same effect on its sales. There is no doubt about it, this nice young lad from the mid-West, is the most bankable piece of pop merchandise to come along for many years.
Not for Michael the pouting brat that has earmarked other young performers, nor the cavorting in semi-pornographic videos to promote each new song. No, Michael’s image is not only that of a clean-cut teenager but one who respects his peers, adults and the world in which he lives.
This is down to his family.
His interviews always site the influence of this very important part of his life. His mother Jean is his manager, his eldest sister Ba–Ba (Barbara) is the keyboard player and leader of his backing band (The Protectors), his middle sister Mu (Muriel) is his PA and his other sister JJ (Jean Junior) runs the fan-club. Mother Jean is a ‘no messing’ type of lady who knows what she wants and generally gets just that. All her daughters are older than her son who was the last of her litter separating the first and last by thirteen years.
The girls were all products of Jean’s husband George Clarkson, Michael was the off-spring of a drunken one night stand with someone Jean couldn’t remember having sex with. In fact, it wasn’t until she was almost five months pregnant that she realised what the result of that misguided sexual encounter had generated. The unplanned foetus growing in her womb had passed the abort stage, and, with no option, she eventually looked forward to the birth of her son. George Clarkson had died two years before that drunken night and Jean had been in grieving for quite some time before the ill-conceived romp took place. However, it was George’s name that appeared on the birth certificate and not the real father’s.
So, that drunken need for sex, though for some time appeared to be the stupidest thing to have happened, now appeared to be the best. The family, thanks to Michael’s all-encompassing talent and appeal, are sitting pretty on a fortune that their bastard son and sibling has generated.
However, it isn’t all down to Michael of course. No one could have achieved what he has done without superb management. His family were quick learners, smart at what they did and their talented brother was indebted to his family for the success he was now reaping.
The baby of the family was kept just that way. All decisions were taken by the women in his life; all he had to do was perform. Even when not on stage it was his family that surrounded him and they wanted to look after that asset by making sure no one else got a look in. Little Mikey (as he was affectionately known to his family) had to adhere to some very strict rules that had governed his life since he was a born: Do exactly as told, argue and a spanking follows, diapers to be worn at all times.
This last rule started as just a way to enforce the female domination of his life. However, Jean soon noticed how keeping her son in protection made him incredibly obedient and endearingly docile, so much so that now that sweet touch of childish purity was what made Little Mikey different. His stage clothes were solely for that because once the performance was over and the well-wishers had gone, one of the females took charge and returned Little Mikey to what he was, the baby of the family.
Ever since he was an infant, that’s how the family had treated him. Mainly his young life consisted of being bottle fed, plain food, diaper changes, early nights, cartoons on TV, bedroom and bedding covered in cute animals and the constant love and attention from his ever caring family. Once out of the spotlight his diaper was checked and changed, he was put in a onesie or footed pyjamas and told to go to sleep. Mikey didn’t complain, why would he he’d never known anything different?
As he grew up he was still kept in diapers and plastic pants “For your own protection” he was always told. Even at school, when his peers were moving into briefs and boxers he was wearing thick diapers under his school uniform. Once he returned home he was immediately changed out of that and into something deemed more suitable; cute romper pants or shorts. This regime was easy to maintain because since he was a babe in his mother’s arms all his sisters loved dressing him up. No sooner had one got him dressed to her satisfaction, than one of the others had a different idea and he would be stripped where ever he was, powdered, changed and slipped into something equally sweet but undeniably babyish. This continues to this day and Michael appears quite content with the situation, well, at least he’s never complained.
His connection with anyone outside of his family is fleeting and supervised. Fans say ‘Hello’, want photographs, scream for him and at him but they only got near him when he’s on stage. Once he’s left the ‘performance’ area (as his family called it) he is theirs and the public are not allowed into that intimate and very private inner-sanctum. Little Mikey feels he’s special but not because of his undeniable talent but the love and attention of his family who do everything for him.
Michael had won a local TV talent show when he was ten. The song he sung was a self-penned little tune about his love for a cat. He never mentioned the word cat in it so it sounded just like a love song and people adored it. For a short time the local press hailed this ‘Small Town Boy’ as the next big thing. Alas, his fame never spread beyond the county although, from then on, people loved his voice and he was in demand for regional concerts and state fairs. The young singer/songwriter performed anywhere and everywhere under the watchful eye of his mother. From the family home she directed his burgeoning career and made sure at all times he had at least two of his family present. She also took the opportunity to home-school him, especially as demand for his shows was increasing and travelling meant he couldn’t attend a regular class. As he grew up and was influenced more and more by things, stories and people around him, his song writing got stronger and stronger.
However, Jean wanted to keep her boy just that, a boy. She didn’t want him in a rush to grow up and saw that his appeal was down to his childlike looks, unsophisticated attitude and general sweet demeanour. He was so unlike anyone else performing at the time; ‘innocence’ was not what the public wanted, or so it thought. However, a spot on national TV raised his profile and his self-penned and self-released single “Too Good” was an instant success on download, which in turn grabbed the attention of the big record companies. Michael was still only fourteen when it went on general release. Accompanied by a video which showed him working on a farm in a pair of dirty shorts and ripped t-shirt surrounded by loads of cute animals, proved a clever move and the public loved it. YouTube went berserk and suddenly he had a massive hit on his hands. Despite loads of tempting offers from International agencies, it was his mother’s planning and strict supervision that made it all work. She took complete command and steered her young son’s career to the success it is now.
He’s happy in the care of his family; the regular diaper changing and dressing up only reinforces that bond. He’s never worn anything but a diaper so other types of underwear for a boy have never been offered. He’s reasonably potty trained but is just as happy to use his diaper as use the bathroom and certainly it doesn’t seem the most important thing to change that dynamic. His mother, when thinking it all through, decided that part of her sons appeal is his naivety. She is of the opinion that wearing diapers and depending on them, gives him an unconscious vulnerability that people find very appealing. Not that they planned on telling anyone. In fact, it is a family secret, which they are all involved in maintaining and all take a share in the responsibility of keeping Michael clean, dry and well padded.
Now here’s a little fact; when his sister put together his backing band for tours, she picked all-female musicians and named them ‘The Protectors’ in recognition of her brother’s dependency on diapers. Clever eh?
There is purity to Michael’s voice that a studio doesn’t need to fix or mix with electronic gadgets and that had an appeal right across the board; kids and adults love him. Most boys his age hated him for his success but that still didn’t stop his first ‘star’ calendar selling millions and featuring on as many boys’ bedroom walls as it did girls.
In interviews he never tries to be clever. If the journalist or TV personality tries to ask him an embarrassing question he is simply embarrassed; he giggles, shakes his head and states publicly he didn’t have an answer. More often than not it goes in his favour; the public like his honesty, they like his unworldliness, they like him. Jean is not immune to overprotecting her baby boy and if she is crossed or thought that the questioning has been too intrusive, she happily confronts the perpetrator and takes them to task, often very publicly. Her fierce defence of her boy is seen as a positive by the public but hated by the media who see no limit to how insensitive they can be. The fact that they can’t find any dirt or humiliating little secret on this ‘little goody-goody’ is driving them nuts. They print lies and then, in huge headlines say that “… they refused to deny…” such and such. It sold newspapers and magazines but a photo shoot, organised by Jean, of her clean-cut boy, loving his family and actually helping out on a farm for injured animals, proved a better selling point.
However, just before Michael’s eighteenth birthday, Jean got wind that there was going to be a photo expose. The photographer on one shoot had caught Michael bending over and his diaper was clearly visible. There were several images that made the evidence irrefutable and the photographer had sold them to the highest bidder and raked in an absolute fortune for himself. The story was scheduled to run in the biggest circulating Sunday newspaper in the world so Jean, ever on the ball, decided to do a couple of things. First was not to deny or comment on it, the second was to quickly tie up a deal with a maker of teenage diapers.
De Vie Diapers; colourful, absorbent, fashionable.
Every photo and video that had ever featured Michael suddenly was doctored and had him wearing diapers. Some got very close to the type and style he actually wore but in general, they just wanted to humiliate him… but it didn’t. The more they pushed the diapers angle the more the YouTube clips were viewed. The brighter the diapers and frilly the plastic pants, the more hits and ‘Likes’ the image received. Suddenly, diapers were everywhere and embraced by a huge section of the youthful populace.
Yes, the hoped for backlash didn’t happen, instead fans bought diapers and pull-ups and wore them to his concerts. Those who had to wear them were suddenly released from their guilt. Letter after letter, interview after interview, were all supportive and damning of the shady and sensationalistic way the newspaper had treated the subject, which in turn led to a campaign so virulent that it cost them half their readership. Michael De Vie and his diapers were everywhere. Kids were wearing them in the street as a fashion statement and the headlines around the world were – DE VIE’S DIAPERMANIA.
Jean simply refused to enter into any conversation about why he still wore diapers and this led to a mass of speculation in the press. Late night TV programmes brought in ABDLs, as well as those who actually wore them for medical reasons, to discuss the pros and cons of this phenomenon. Of course everyone wanted to hear from Michael himself but, as he couldn’t see what all the fuss was about, he never made any statement or participated in a debate on the subject. Jean thought that his face on the diaper packaging and his latest single ‘Hug Me’ (his 7th Number One) was enough involvement for her son. He quite liked the fact that he now had an array of colourful printed animals on his diapers (Jean had been keen to direct the profits into an animal charity) and continued to wear them with all the special diaper covers that companies sent him for approval in the hope of adding his name as a sponsor.
Pretty soon he was engulfed in hundreds of such items; ruffles, lace, frills, silk, satin, plastic, rubber, you name a material, he received something made in it. Little Mikey loved these new additions to his wardrobe and, as long as it fit over his diapers, he wore with pride simply because he’d never known anything else. His mother and sisters took great pleasure in keeping their baby boy dry, clean and happy, while he in turn loved the tight loving hug his protection, and protectors, constantly gave him.
Story is written by Les