This story is written by Les Lea
Although Quentin had been the only person at school who offered any kind of support, real support that is, my best mate Kevin couldn’t quite get to grips with me wearing such a bulky item under my trousers. Of course I hadn’t told him about me wanting to be babied, though he understood that Cuddy and his gang were out to humiliate me as much as they could, he was drifting away and spending more time with other friends.
Since that offer of support I’d nodded the occasional acknowledgement to Quentin but we’d not got close. He didn’t seem to be in any rush to support me further, although he did look down at my bulging groin, raised his eyebrows and pulled a slight grimace. I think he was feeling sorry for me yet I was desperate to say it wasn’t as bad as it looked. I thought I could trust Quentin with the news that all this ‘babying’ business and the forced nappy wearing was actually fun for me and that I was happy to use Cuddy and his gang of low-lives for my own benefit.
The official excuse for me wearing a nappy – I was currently experiencing a period of incontinence (the reason was never explained). However, because everyone had seen the posters of me wearing just a disposable, and saw the bulk under my trousers, everyone knew I was wearing nappies now. Most believed it was down to Cuddy, a few bought the excuse but no one suspected that I was wearing because I wanted to. I was feeling very superior at that moment… but I desperately wanted to share this feeling with someone I thought might appreciate the irony.
The school sissy was quite surprised when I sidled up and started making small talk with him.
Our strained conversation had only been going on for a few minutes when already we were hearing comments about “… the two sissies no doubt swapping recipes” or “deciding on which knickers to wear” or “dress” or… well, the chatter kept coming on what we would no doubt be talking about… and none of it either amusing or polite.
It was like water of a duck’s back for Quentin; he’d heard it all before and didn’t rise to any of the effeminate digs that were being bandied about.
“Aren’t you fed up with all this… and… these insults?” I felt sorry for him having had to put up with these constant put downs since he started at senior school.
“To them I am effeminate, I don’t do or like the things they do but I don’t care. Mummy and daddy are happy with me being me rather than trying to be something I’m not… and I like being me.”
Then he added with a dismissive shrug. “So stuff ‘em.”
He saw my wry smile.
I didn’t think the fact he still called his parents mummy and daddy particularly helped his case but he wasn’t bothered.
“I’ll play with my dollies when I get home whether they like it or not.”
I wasn’t sure if he was kidding or not but I didn’t get a chance to pose the question as he changed the subject.
“You wear a nappy now. Cuddy is forcing you to be something you’re not and…”
He saw the look on my face change.
“or… I could be mistaken.”
He waited for me to say what was more obvious than I thought bubbling under the surface of our conversation.
“Promise you won’t say anything to… anyone?”
“Okay… but I think I know what you’re going to say.”
I looked at him as if to say “I don’t think so” but he did.
“You like to wear nappies?”
It was both a question and a statement and I suddenly wondered if everyone knew and wasn’t actually kidding anybody.
“Ohhh God… how did you know… is it that obvious… does everyone else know?” I panicked.
Quentin got on his superior high horse.
“Don’t worry, these people are morons,” he pointed to a group from our class who were trying to come up with something funny to say about us two being together. “Not a single original thought
in their stupid little heads… they wouldn’t catch a nuance if it smacked them in the face.”
Of course, even though his words carried with them a certain anger; his voice was soft and gentle.
Close up he was well-groomed, hair immaculate and his eyes sparkled with life. In class he was top in most subjects, always first with his hand up to answer a question and never cheated or copied.
He was bullied for answers by bigger, more aggressive boys who tried to make him do their homework but he couldn’t be manipulated much to the frustration of the clods in class.
He returned to the subject in hand.
“I just didn’t see the anger one might expect when such embarrassing images have been exposed to everyone.”
I turned red because he seemed to read me so easily.
“Your secret’s safe with me but, don’t underestimate Cuddy, he may be a bully but he isn’t stupid…”
I nodded in agreement.
“He’ll have his eye on you…”
“How do you escape his claws?”
I hoped he had some secret info on him he would share.
“Ohh, he’s tried many times, he’s even had me crying and running to teacher but then you came along and he seemed happier to torment Baby Dick than the school sissy. I still get shoved and mocked but a scream usually keeps them away because I go public when they start on me.”
He looked around the playground and pointed to a couple in our class who had been more than happy to taunt me about wearing a nappy.
“Most aren’t as tough as they pretend and Cuddy, who is very tough, can do without the aggro him picking on me can cause for his family… dad being a cop and all.”
He didn’t say this with any pride it was all just so matter of fact.
“Although I think it’s the screaming that scares them away.” He grinned and shrugged.
We chatted for the rest of the break, occasionally being harassed by some senior numbskull who thought he’d get in on the act. By the end of the break I was quite in awe of the school sissy and how he’d got himself sorted at such a young age.
He even let slip that he knew just how nice it was to wear a nappy and patted my padding as if to emphasise the point. However, he didn’t add anything further and as the school bell had rung, it was back to class.
Over the next few days nothing much changed. At home I was left to my own devices so I had to do everything concerned with my nappied life… no offers of help at all. Yet, at school, Cuddy and his mates kept up the daily humiliation of checking and making sure I was wandering around school in a pee-filled nappy. It was strange to see the absolute glee on their faces as they thought my shame was all because of them. I made the correct appeals to be left in peace and begging them to stop my ritual degradation but they seemed to get a kick out of probing down my pants, slipping past the plastic protection and groping the squishy fabric underneath.
The tirade of disgust and comments of me being “Nothing but a fucking baby”, “a no dick nonce”, “a pissy little cunt”… the name calling was all part of their humiliation. It made me feel small and insignificant, as if I had no control over what happened and yet… and yet… I was getting a thrill from it all.
Quentin and I had become beleaguered friends and spent the occasional break in each other’s company. Normally he could be found playing and talking with groups of girls and I wasn’t invited into that set up but, when he was alone I sought him out… I liked his friendship. It also had a bonus effect when our ‘relationship’ (him being my sissy girlfriend and all) was also thrown back in my face by the gang as they pursued further ways to humiliate me. I was now branded as a ‘sissy baby’ a ‘no dick sissy baby’ and various versions on the same theme that were delivered with an elbow or trip by some Cuddy ‘wannabe’.
I never mentioned any of this to my family. They thought I was being very daring in dealing with wearing a nappy to school but as there had been no complaints or letters home from any of the staff I was left alone nothing was said.
I stuck to my duties of keeping my room and bedding clean. I’d thoroughly wash whatever I’d wet and pegged out, then the freshly laundered items would be collected nicely dry when I returned home from school.
I’d become adept at adding soaker pads and pinning the fabric tightly. Once I added plastic pants I thought the silky bulge where once I had nothing to show, now showed I had something.
The bulky bump was what occupied my mind almost 24/7… it was a complete experience. I loved wearing it, I loved touching it, it felt so good hugging my little genitals and though some mocked,
I didn’t care. Often I couldn’t even feel my genitals but that obvious, large, smooth bump was still very gratifying. This huge lump had become my genitals.
That was until one day I was dragged into the boy’s toilet by Archie and the entire gang was there.
“Well Baby Dick,” Cuddy’s voice had a strange tone to it. “It appears that our wetting little baby seems happy to run around in his soaked nappy all day.”
He looked happy about the situation and what he’d achieved but then changed tack.
“So, it’s time he took the next step.”
I wasn’t too sure what the next step was and he allowed me a minute for it to sink in just exactly what it was he wanted me to do.
I stood there dumb (and shaking because I knew something was about to take place that I wasn’t going to like) but didn’t move.
“Time our little Baby Dick took a dump in his nappy… don’t you think?”
A supportive cheer went up from his gang.
I screamed “NO”. This wasn’t something I’d ever planned on doing. The idea of a messy nappy wasn’t on my radar and I’d avoided even doing it by accident by making sure I was in a regular routine and did it the moment I got up. However, hands were dragging down my trousers and plastic pants revealing my thick soaked fabric nappy. I’m sure to the half dozen onlookers I appeared nothing more than a baby about to be changed but Cuddy insisted.
“Come on Baby Dick; fill your nappy like the little sissy I’ve heard you’ve become.”
I shook my head and pleaded with him not to make me. Tears were rolling down my face but they were having no effect on the assembled gang.
“Come on, force one out you big girl”, “…mess that nappy, you know you want to”. There were more comments and insults that I didn’t get as I cried to be let go.
Cuddy was in his element.
“There, there little one,” he soothed, “just squat down, like the little kiddie you are and crap your nappy… I’m sure you’ve done it many times… so come on… just for us.”
“I can’t,” I screamed through tearstained eyes, “I’ve been… already been… (hic) I can’t…”
Fingers were pressing into my belly and squishing the double soaked nappy.
The hubbub died down when Cuddy asked if I was sure I couldn’t manage it.
“Nnnnoooo,” I stammered. “I’ve already been today.”
“Okay, fair enough, if you can’t you can’t.” He seemed at ease with my explanation.
“Perhaps another time?” He looked questioningly at me.
I stood there shaking wearing just a sopping wet nappy and with my trousers and plastic pants bunched around my feet. I was hoping the terror would end but I should have known better.
“The little baby needs to poo and pee-pee in his nappy.” He was using baby talk now and I could feel the threat level rise. “So, I’ll give him a helping hand.”
He produced a plastic bag and unfurled a shitty disposable.
“A present from my baby cousin… a freshly messed in nappy, which I believe has your name on it.”
I was shocked and drew back as he brought the stinking thing nearer.
“Looks like our little baby is going to be wearing shit and piss in his nappy after all.”
A cheer went up from the guys looking on as Cuddy gave them the order to hold me down. He dragged my nappy around my knees and then lay out the messy one from his cousin.
“Lift up his arse.”
Someone grabbed my tiny genitals and hoisted my bum off the floor.
“God look at that tiny thing… I could hardly get hold of it…” I heard someone say.
He quickly slipped the pungent thing under me, all the time I was crying and begging him to stop. I felt my moist bum make contact with the stinking yellowy brown mass and Cuddy wasted no time in pulling it up between my legs and taping it into place.
He seemed to have no problem at all dealing with the smell or the revolting spectacle that he was inflicting on me.
Most of the onlookers were laughing but I noticed one or two found the entire process gross.
However, Cuddy pulled my nappy over the disposable, yanked up my plastic pants and smoothed it all out. I felt unclean and abused. I could feel the sticky mess sliding around my bum and ooze between my legs. He pulled up my trousers and dragged me to my feet.
“There you are, not difficult at all… just what you’d expect, a baby in a shitty nappy.”
I was horrified. This wasn’t part of my plan and in fact, a dirty nappy was never part of my plan.
Cuddy had ruined everything and I hated him for it.
“I’ll tell the Head just what you’ve done.” I threatened.
He smiled that evil smile again, he wasn’t fazed by any threat I could make.
“You’re a stinky little baby Smith, no one is going to believe you because everyone knows how much you love being a baby and wearing a nappy. Everyone knows that you and your sissy mate have been planning this for some time…”
I tried to deny it but he just smiled. “Everyone here has heard what you and your ‘sissy girlfriend’ had in mind and that you were planning on blaming me.”
“Some teachers are already aware of your plan… so I doubt if anyone is going to take your complaint very seriously.”
I didn’t know if any of this was true but people will have seen Quentin and me huddled together so no doubt all manner of nasty rumours were circulating.
“However, I do have a few words I want you to use when anyone asks about your ‘accident’. Here’s what you say…. in your best babyish voice ‘Please sir, I done a poo and a pee-pee in my nappy.’
Just so no one is in any doubt about you being a little baby… a shitty little baby at that.”
“I won’t say that, I’ll, I’ll…” My threat was lost as I saw the entire group begin to pack up to leave.
“On a different subject altogether.” Cuddy was in my face. “How’s that sister of yours… I bet she looks pretty hot in a nappy like her baby brother…?”
“You leave Helen alone… you, you…”
“I’ll be waiting on a report back on what words you used when asked about your shit-filled nappy. If it’s not as I’ve said, I’ll be paying a visit to… Helen is it?… and checking for myself.”
This was a threat I couldn’t ignore. I couldn’t let my nappy wearing involve Helen, or any of the family in Cuddy’s spiteful little game. He knew he’d won and I’d do just as he demanded. I shuffled out of the boy’s toilet feeling the clammy, grainy residue invading into, across and against my body. I threw up as I made the playground.
“Smith stinks sir.”
It was Harrison who was bringing it to Mr Henderson’s attention. Harrison was a Cuddy wannabe and no doubt had been put up to this.
It was the beginning of a double maths period, a subject I was useless at so Mr Henderson was no great fan of mine. He already thought I was a waste of space and always looked disgusted when he noticed me wearing padding.
“Shit yourself have you Smith?” He brought laughter to the rest of the class but I just shrunk into my seat unable to say anything I was just too distraught.
“Yes he has.” Harrison and a couple of others agreed.
“What?” Henderson had meant it as a bad joke but now the smell was getting to other people and they were moving away from my vicinity.
“Oh, for crying out loud Smith… what’s happened?”
This was the question I knew Cuddy had been hoping for and I also knew he had enough people who’d grass me up if I didn’t say the line.
“I gone and done a poo and pee-pee in my nappy… sorry sir.”
Mr Henderson looked at me in amazement whilst the rest of the class bust into fits of laughter.
“You fuckin’ big baby Smith” “Shitty cunt” “Christ what a stink” “You’ll need a cartload of nappies…”
Others simply held their noses, whilst other revelled in my baby voice.
“Smith’s a fuckin’ baby, Smith’s a fuckin’ baby…” “Someone get him a dummy and a bottle” “Good God no, we don’t want him to shit anymore”
Everyone had some comment and Mr Henderson was at a loss as to what to do.
“Farron,” The class sissy looked my way but there was no judgement on his face. “Can you escort Mr Smith to the Head’s office?” He couldn’t help himself. “We don’t want our little stinker getting lost now do we?”
Quentin was up and by my side almost immediately. The vile comments carried on, this time including those directed his way. Two sissy babies together was the general opinion, no doubt we’d be changing each other’s nappies as soon as we got out the door. Typical of Quentin he was more concerned about me than bothering to respond to a pack of jokers.
Henderson called order and reluctantly, as we exited the school room, the name calling became silenced.
“Can I open a window sir?” It was Harrison building his part, much to the appreciation of most of the class.
“Mmmm, I think that might be a good idea.” The teacher shrugged as if he didn’t quite know what to make of what had just taken place.
“Now, after that little break,” Mr Henderson got back to work. “As you can see… when x is the coefficient…”
This story is written by Les Lea
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