Plastic pants

Danni – My life as a living boy doll Part 7

This story is written by Les Lea

There was no doubt about it, Julie had me cowed and I was at her bidding no matter what. She encouraged me to sing in the choir but warned me against Miss Simms placing too much pressure on me (she had said it was the pressure to perform that had made me wet myself, and I believed her). She told me that boys would only take advantage of my sweet temperament (her words) so basically the only person who was looking out for me was her. She kept going on about when I was a baby how much fun I was, how much I enjoyed the games we played and how much I liked being looked after. She thought because of all the ‘trauma’ of growing up and the ‘problems’ it was causing, she should let me be a “baby” again. It was a time she said I was happiest. I somehow knew that all the ‘trauma’ and ‘problems’ were as a result of the way she treated me but I wasn’t able to offer much in the way of resistance and that meant I was back to being her baby… her toy.

I was wearing nappies or pull-ups permanently – for bed, for school, for trips, for, well everything. I had given up fighting Julie she was a force I could not defeat and I wasn’t equipped for battle, I just gave in and did what she wanted. After all, I had no real say in what was going on, it kept her in a good mood and mum seemed happy that my ‘problem’ was now well contained. I was so compliant, and mum so comfortable with the way things currently existed, she even patted my well-padded bottom before we went anywhere and smiled contentedly that everything was ‘okay’. I took it as natural; this was how it was meant to be even if all the other kids in my class didn’t wear nappies and such. Julie said that the reason I did was because I was ‘special’, that I was better than any of the other kids because I had a loving sister who only wanted the very best for her sweet little baby brother.

In my own small way I did try to rebel because I didn’t like to wear a wet nappy. When she wasn’t around I always made it to the bathroom in time by sliding my hand up my shorts, struggling valiantly with the padding before pulling out my willy and doing what I had to do in the toilet. Not having a wet nappy when she checked me was a small victory but I think it annoyed her slightly.

However, one day we were playing in the park and I needed to go so I suggested a game of hide and seek. The idea was that I would hide first; she would count to 50 and then attempt to find me. Cleverly, I thought, I could quickly hide behind a bush, release my willy and do it before she came and found where I was hiding. Alas, I struggled longer than I thought with the tight fitting nappy and as I nervously peed into the bushes she came up behind me.

You naughty, dirty boy,” she screamed… and I froze in mid flow. “In public, how disgusting.” She grabbed my arm, pulled down my pants and nappy and spanked me hard on my bare bottom.

This time it did hurt and my pleading and screaming I was sorry was having no effect as she reddened my bum cheeks. It was all over in a matter of seconds but I was crying for real and she had managed to make me feel terribly ashamed of myself. I was still crying as she removed my t-shirt and I was led naked back to our blanket on the ground where we’d been picnicking. People were looking but no one said anything as she lay me out and re-fitted the old disposable I had been wearing. She pulled it tight and taped me firmly in place then she did something I will never forget – she poured a whole can of fizzy orange juice down the front. I couldn’t stop her and as the nappy absorbed the liquid, the thing expanded and changed from white to a very obvious pale orange. It felt massive between my legs – it was also cold, sticky, wet and it set me off crying even more.

You’ve been a very dirty… naughty… disgusting boy.” She threatened as I sat wondering what I was going to do. “This will be your punishment until we get home so everyone can see just what a naughty, dirty little baby brother I have.”

I was both ashamed and inconsolable because she’d made me feel that it was my fault that I had made her do what she’d done and that of course, it was for my own good. I had to learn to be “a good obedient little boy”.

Walking the half mile or so home she wouldn’t let me wear anything but the messy orange nappy. It wasn’t very nice to walk in and of course I was waddling trying to keep up as she all but dragged me home. At the door she told me in no uncertain terms that mum would be furious about my shameful peeing in public and that she wouldn’t be at all surprised if she also spanked me. I was terrified of entering my own home. Of course I had to promise to be good, do exactly as I was told and, more importantly, use the nappy when I needed to go. She said she wouldn’t tell mum about what I’d done if I agreed and ‘swore an oath.’ I wasn’t sure what that was but as she said it was the most solemn promise, that even God would punish if I broke, it was the only thing she said that would stop her from telling mum. Of course I agreed and repeated the oath that Julie made me swear ‘on my life’ to uphold. Once through the door mum wondered why I’d been crying and why was I only wearing a very soggy nappy. Julie looked down at me and said it was another one of my ‘accidents’ and that she didn’t have a spare disposable to change me and she didn’t want all my other clothes to get messy. Mum looked pitifully at me and I saw sympathy in her eyes.

You poor little thing.” She hugged me to her. “Never mind, you are home now… I’ll take care of you.”

Julie tried to intervene. “It’s OK mum, I’ll see to him,” she seemed a little worried that her orange scam might be found out. “I have a fresh nappy in my room for him…”

You do enough Julie,” mum said taking hold of my hand and leading me upstairs. “I think I’ll change my sweet boy.”

Julie was left to worry about any possible outcome but she should have been confident in her powers and influence over me as I never said a word against her as mum cleaned me up. As my room was now, thanks to Julie, more or less a nursery, all there was lying around were pull-ups or disposables (my thick cloth nappies Julie always kept in my underwear draw – or what had once been my underwear draw). So mum, still thinking I had a wetting problem, cleaned me up, powdered me and fitted me into a clean and tight disposable, and asked if I was okay. My tears had stopped but my bottom still smarted from Julie smacks so I just nodded. She wondered if I wanted to take a nap as I looked worn out. I wasn’t tired but I thought it might be best if I hid myself away for a little while so as mum tucked me in I gave her a kiss and said I was sorry.

It’s OK sweetheart,” she whispered back, “It’s not your fault, accidents happen. You just have a nap and then things won’t seem so bad.”

Everything seemed nice when mum was like this but I still couldn’t tell her anything, after all, I just sworn an oath, on pain of my death, if I revealed just what had actually happened. No Julie had me and I was now, if I was in any doubt, completely under her control.

Over the next few weeks Julie upped her game. Her idea for my clothing was a thick nappy, pink or blue plastic pants and tiny shorts that gave no hiding place for my protection. For bed she had me thickly nappied, often wearing a footed onesie that had a zip up the back (so I couldn’t remove it even if I’d wanted to), which had been a surprising addition to my wardrobe, as had a short onesie that fastened with press studs between my legs. Where these items had appeared from I didn’t know but I had expertly been returned to my infanthood even though my eighth birthday was rapidly approaching.

My loving sister had got me all excited about my birthday. She said she had planned a party for me and wondered if there was anyone special who I’d like to invite. I told her Simon if she could get an invitation to him. She enthused back that she was positive he’d love to come and she’d make an extra effort to ensure he received his invite. She even had me write a special ‘please come’ on the bottom of his card, which I then watched her drop in the post box.

This story is written by Les Lea

You can find more story’s like this one posted on My ABDL Life. The only thing you need to do is to check out this page to find them.

Chapter 6

Chapter 8

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Danni – My life as a living boy doll Part 6

This story is written by Les Lea

Being brought up by Julie had made me the boy I was. I wasn’t one for games, in fact, other than with Simon I had hardly played with any other boys of my age. They scared me and with Julie’s protection, I’d never needed to toughen up. Some might say I was lucky to have such a sister, and indeed, I never thought anything other than that but, as we both got older it was as if she didn’t want me to grow up.

She was making things up that I did or didn’t do when she spoke to mum, and mum, being mum, believed everything she said or suggested. It wasn’t that mum wasn’t bothered it was just that she’d left me in Julie’s hands for so long, she had no idea how I should be. If I complained to her about having to wear something she always made me remember how much I’d enjoyed dressing up before. When I think about it, I always did have a smile on my face as me and Julie had played her dressing-up games. I didn’t know any better but mum now saw it as “Just the way you are”. I think she thought it was what I wanted and I liked all that kind of thing; being dressed as a girl or being babied by all her friends. In many ways I suppose I did, or at least it never worried me but, I’d begun to want the same as what the boys at school had.

At school I was introduced to the choir and found that I loved singing in assembly as much as I’d enjoyed singing in front of Julie and her chums. The teachers thought I was very good and began to offer me more and more songs to take the lead on. I was very nervous about being pushed forward but Miss Simms, the music teacher gently coaxed me and, perhaps because she was a woman, I did as I was told. It was OK if I was surrounded by the rest of the choir and I was just one amongst a group but when I had my solo I became quite scared. I’m not sure why but it was worse if mum or Julie were watching and on one occasion I peed my pants centre stage. Julie saw what I’d done and because of the sudden appearance of a wet spot on the front of my shorts she leapt into action. Even before Miss Simms could come to my assistance Julie was up on the stage and gently leading me off, her words full of sympathy, but her firm grip telling me otherwise.

How she knew what would happen I do not know but I was led to a classroom, my shorts and briefs taken down and she rummaged in her schoolbag and produced a disposable nappy. She had no powder or lotions this time but just wrapped me in it, pulled it up between my legs, fastened the sticky tabs in place and yanked me to my feet. A few fellow pupils had gathered in the doorway to watch the proceedings and Miss Simms was trying to get through the cordon. I could see the sympathy in her eyes but Julie just said that she wasn’t to worry, no one blamed her for my distress and that she was sure no real harm was done. Miss Simms was taken aback at this slight but as Julie had already grabbed my hand and was ushering me away from the cluster of kids (and associated parents) she hadn’t formulated a response as Julie hurried me to mother’s car waiting to pick us up.

It was my moment of achievement… something I’d done without Julie… or mum and I’d wet myself. I was crying as we got into the car and mum was wondering what had happened. A very empathetic Julie explained how I was ‘brilliant’ and was singing ‘beautifully’, when I just peed myself. Again, all the words she said sounded like she was so sorry for me but I knew that she loved every minute of my humiliation. As I sat down she even apologised to mum that she hadn’t got any plastic pants for me to wear to protect the car seat… and suggested that in future we should all carry a spare pair for just such emergencies. Mum just nodded to Julie, tried to cheer me up with the offer of ice cream, tickled me under the chin and told me that I was her ‘special little boy’.

I was sobbing quietly in the back seat with Julie gently stroking my hand and telling me not to worry, and that lots of boys my age had these accidents. Fine soothing words for her but quite terrifying for me as it gave her another excuse to keep me in nappies. It also meant that from that moment on Julie would insist that I wear protection for school, as, she explained to mum, she didn’t see why the teachers should have to deal with my ‘damp spells’. Again mum nodded in agreement and Julie suggested that we call in and get some suitable protection on the way home. As we pulled into the shopping centre car park I didn’t want to get out but both mum and Julie were adamant I couldn’t sit there alone. I weepily suggested that Julie stayed with me but she said that she had things she wanted to buy. There was no way round it… I walked into the pharmacy and to the nappy section wearing my bright and dry disposable. There was absolutely no doubt as to what we were there to buy.

Julie found a huge case of pull-ups about my size and took them over to mum. She also found some cloth nappies, pins and a couple of pairs of colourful plastic pants. She added tubs of baby powder and lotion. I was filled with embarrassment and had my eyes glued to the ground throughout the entire proceedings. Even at the cash desk, as mum paid and Julie held all the products, I couldn’t look at the teenage lad who was on check out as I was certain he would be laughing at me. Just before he rang through the pull-ups he asked mum if she wanted to change them as they were for young girls, they had cartoon princesses all over them, apparently, there were some with cars on for little boys. But an exasperated sound came from Julie who was already on her way out with the rest of the stuff so mum just shrugged and the lad beeped them through.

Mum had said that we were going to get ice cream but I hadn’t thought she meant in a public place and as we drove into the café that was my favourite location because of its selection of flavours I began to cry again saying I didn’t now want any ice cream. Mum was about to turn around but Julie said that even if I didn’t she would like some and also implied I was lying and that I was just being silly.

What little boy didn’t want ice cream?” The fact was I did but not dressed as I was.

Julie was very quick. “Is it because you’re only wearing a disposable?” I nodded. “Would you be OK if we put you in something else?” Again I nodded almost beginning to cheer up at the prospect of the big sundae I was planning on treating myself to. “OK then, that’s what we’ll do.”

So as mum went off to order our tasty treats Julie set about changing me in the back of the car. I was relieved when the disposable came off and she wiped me dry with some of the wipes we’d just bought. She powdered me and was all ‘loving’ and ‘sweet’ as she massaged it in, then she delved into the case of pull-ups and unfurled it. At that moment I wasn’t thinking about the image on it, all I knew was that it was more like wearing underpants than a nappy, but once I was in them she opened the door and dragged me out. I was standing wearing just a pair of princess pull-ups and a white school polo shirt.

There,” she said triumphantly, “fit for a… prince… ess” and led me to the café.

She gave me that grip and a very stern warning not to upset mum by acting up or crying and said that if I did she would spank me herself when we got home… and… she inferred… after today’s performance and the expense and the embarrassment to her and mum… no doubt mum would spank me too.

The café was full of kids all enjoying their selection of fruity flavours and I was just another tasty morsel that they could enjoy by laughing and tittering as I walked by. It was the worst, and longest, ice cream I’d ever had and I did cry and… wet myself. Needless to say, Julie pointed this out to mum and, as I was bawling my eyes out, it was agreed that I was getting worse and perhaps stronger protection may be needed. The princesses, not able to withstand my soggy torrent, meant I had to ride back home in a very wet pull-up.

This story is written by Les Lea

You can find more story’s like this one posted on My ABDL Life. The only thing you need to do is to check out this page to find them.

Chapter 5

Chapter 7

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Danni – My life as a living boy doll Part 5

This story is written by Les Lea

I didn’t see Simon again, the teacher said that his mum was now home-schooling him, which greatly upset me. I still found it difficult to make friends with others in class so I immersed myself in painting and music. I tried to learn to play the recorder, which Julie said was an instrument of torture when I tried to practice in my bedroom. Often, if she was around, she would distract me with one of her games and even though I was getting older, she still had me dressed either in some of her old clothes or in a nappy so she and her friends could practice changing me and in so doing become ‘good mummies’ for when they had babies of their own. My rebellious streak had disappeared as quickly as Simon and my ‘big boy briefs’ and it was back to normal in our household.

Julie redoubled her insistence that at night I was to wear protection. She even doubled the thickness of my nappy and I found bedtime a bit of an ordeal but she wouldn’t let me wear pyjamas; a thick nappy and plastic pants were all I was allowed with an occasional t-shirt if I was lucky. In retrospect I was being punished but of course, all the ‘love’ and ‘attention’ she was lavishing on me was for her benefit. She even told mum that I’d begun to wet the bed again, “No doubt caused by the stress of school”, she added sympathetically, so my dear mother didn’t object to me being put to bed dressed the way I was. She believed anything that Julie said, and why shouldn’t she, her daughter had more of less brought me up so why would she possibly lie.

One night I did wet myself, having been given a huge glass of cola just before I went to bed. Julie had come into my room, checked on my nappy, felt that I was wet and had slipped away pretending she didn’t know. Somehow she’d managed to get mum to check on me so she was able to discover for herself why her son needed to keep his protection on at night. I couldn’t deny I had wet myself, so I couldn’t fight what was coming next.

Mum, Julie and I went shopping for new summer clothes. I was quite excited as I thought I’d get to choose a new outfit and I’d seen some of the boys in class wearing t-shirts with action figures on that I liked. In fact, the film that the characters were from had spawned a huge range of clothing for boys and girls and I hoped that mum would buy me some.

Julie had got me ready and insisted that I now wear a nappy when we were out, as she said, “Just to be on the safe side.” I was relieved that she hadn’t made me wear a dress but there was absolutely no doubt what I had on under my shorts. The bulge and the fact that my shorts were very short so my nappy and plastic pants could easily be seen broadcast to everyone who was interested that I was a seven year-old (almost 8) who still wet himself.

We visited a big, out-of-town mall so that mum could do all her shopping in one place. I stayed with mum as she looked around for clothes to buy for herself and no matter how much I tried to ask for things, the answer was always “Later” or “Maybe” or “Let’s wait for Julie”. Meanwhile, Julie was secretly buying stuff for me. She just filled up the trolley with the items she wanted, no matter what it was, and mum would just pay for it, such was the trust mum had with her. At one point I think mum had got so fed up with me whinging on about a new t-shirt with the film character on it, she relented and bought it for me. I was so excited and grateful I didn’t complain for the rest of the visit.

The mall was quite busy and we were there for a long time. I noticed other kids sniggering and pointing to my nappy hanging down from my shorts but there was nothing I could do about it and I noticed Julie was smiling at every comment. When I asked mum if I could go to the toilet she said it was miles away from where we were so, why didn’t I use the nappy as that’s what it was designed for. I was shocked at such an idea but Julie was in agreement with mum and after trying to keep it in for ages, in the end I just couldn’t any longer. I was waiting in line at the cash register when I felt the first involuntary spurt but once it started I couldn’t hold back and I flooded my nappy, which seemed to swell in my shorts. Thankfully, the plastic pants seemed to act as a barrier and my shorts gave no indication of what I’d done. However, once we’d passed the checkout Julie noticed I was walking differently and without asking, she pulled down my shorts and checked my nappy.

Ughhh, Danni’s wet himself again,” she said. “Don’t worry I’ll change him.”

Mum smiled her thanks and Julie gripped my hand, grabbed one of the bags and dragged me to a toilet opposite where we were. If I’d know I could have easily made it that far but I didn’t and now it was just too convenient for Julie. There was a baby’s changing room attached and there were two or three mothers in their taking care of their young off-spring. They were babies or toddlers and I was by far the eldest but that didn’t stop Julie picking me up, despite my protest, and laying me out on the plastic foam table. I was telling her it could wait until we got home but she was adamant that I was to be changed there and then. Of course, stupidly I had thought that we hadn’t brought any extra nappies with us, and of course we hadn’t, but she had been busy buying and I now found out what was in the bags.

I was acting up and the fact that there was an audience didn’t stop me shouting that I didn’t want to be changed. I saw the sympathy on the faces of the other mother’s as this ‘poor young girl’ had to deal with this objectionable, noisy, belligerent boy… who she was only trying to clean-up and make dry. However, when Julie said that I’d get smacked if I didn’t calm down and let her get on with it, I could tell from the way she was looking at me that I’d better not push her. The defiance left me as her determined face left me in no doubt that any more disruption, argument or noise would result in a smack. The second I gave in she whipped off my shorts, pulled down the plastic pants and released my soaked nappy. The cool air rushing about my boyish ‘willie’ felt peculiar after the warm embrace of my pee-filled protection, however, as she opened a carton of wet-wipes and proceeded to clean me – front and back she was not interested in my obvious humiliation.

Julie realised she had no powder and asked a nearby lady, who was just finishing sprinkling some over her baby girl, if she could spare some. The woman smiled and handed it to her, which was followed by a few of the other women offering help. Lotion, oil and extra padding were all offered and she happily took the lot. Thanking everyone and saying how kind they all were, helping her and her ‘unfortunate incontinent brother’. I didn’t know at the time what the word meant but the women’s look of pity on my sister told me I’d either been very naughty, or they thought she was some kind of martyr.

Some of the mothers had left but one or two hung around just in case she needed any further help. However, she couldn’t have planned it better as she pulled out a huge terry nappy, folded it into a triangle and placed it under my well powdered bottom. Then seeing that she had two thick absorbent pads that had been given to her by the mums still milling around she folded them into the nappy and pulled the entire thing up between my legs. It was huge and spread my legs far apart but she wasn’t finished. The plastic pants were retrieved from the soggy pile and, with some difficulty, pulled into place.

Now she pulled off my top and fed my arms into a new, clean t-shirt she produced from her bag. She pulled it down and only when it was in place did I notice the childish images of animals all over it. I was about to protest but I noticed that look in her eye and held my tongue. Suddenly she was fastening some press-studs between my legs and I was wearing, what looked to me when I saw my reflection in the mirror, like a large baby-grow. This was too much and I started screaming and shouting at her. There was only one mum left and she was exiting as I started acting up. With a look of absolute malice Julie threw my soggy nappy and shorts into the bin, dragged me to my feet, spanked my padded bum and in no uncertain terms told me to behave.

Although it didn’t hurt I was in shock, in all the time we’d been brother and sister she had hardly so much as raised her voice to me. This sudden turn of events cowed me completely and I meekly did what she wanted. She told me to agree with anything she said to mum or she’d spank my bare bottom when we got home. So, there I was, in a mall, in a thick, thick nappy and looking more babyish than I ever remember when I was a baby and my sister was looking pleased with herself. She told my mother that there had been loads of mothers changing their children in the room and things had got misplaced or taken in the confusion. My shorts and top had gone missing but thankfully a couple of the women had helped and offered some items they had… so that was how I ended up looking the way I did.

The way Julie told the tale it all sounded so plausible. I’m not sure how much, or if indeed any of it she believed, but mum said she was just thankful that I’d been dressed in something. However, I was led through the mall, waddling with difficulty in my extremely bulky nappy and wearing baby clothes. Julie was holding tightly onto my hand and occasionally whispering threats to me if I didn’t stop looking so miserable. It was difficult to be cheerful and I suppose, not surprisingly, I started to sob. I think this little touch added to my babyishness and was the cherry on the cake for Julie.

This story is written by Les Lea

You can find more story’s like this one posted on My ABDL Life. The only thing you need to do is to check out this page to find them.

Chapter 4

Chapter 6

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Danni – My life as a living boy doll Part 3

This story is written by Les Lea

One weekend I asked if Simon could come and stay over and mum said that was a terrific idea and that she’d make some cakes (well she actually bought them) and that we’d have a lovely time. We did but on the Sunday mum was called into her office for an emergency meeting and left Julie as usual in charge.

It was a lovely warm day and Simon and I had been playing out in the garden. We’d been in and out of a little paddling pool, shooting our water pistols and running around laughing and screaming like lads do when Julie called for us to come in and get ready, as she’d planned a party. We were both dressed only in our shorts, which were sodden because of all the water fun we’d been having so we needed to change. Some of her girlfriends had arrived and it looked like it was going to be a big party as we saw the table being set with loads and loads of scrummy food.

As we rushed upstairs to grab a towel and dry off, the girls followed us up to my room. There, laid out on my bed were girl’s clothes. Before either Simon or I knew it, we were being stripped out of our wet shorts and dressed up as I had been when I was younger. I really didn’t mind as it never occurred to me that anything was wrong but Simon fought and kicked. He screamed and cried as he was forced into his disposable nappy and plastic pants but as I didn’t see what the fuss was I allowed myself to be clothed in that fashion.

However, it wouldn’t have mattered as the girls were so much bigger and we both ended up dressed as little girls going to a party. Julie had gone to a lot of trouble to have an absolute feast ready, which I loved, but Simon complained and wasn’t going to be “nice” as Julie and her friends put it. However, once he saw that I wasn’t causing an argument he calmed down a bit to snaffle the sandwiches, buns, jelly and ice cream. Julie’s friends were all older now but still seemed to have enjoyed their fun in dressing up two little boys. They were all compliments and praise so before he knew it Simon had forgotten about what he was wearing, just enjoying the food and games that Julie and her chums had organised.

The time passed quickly and we were all having fun but then a surprise came when there was a knock on the door – Simon’s mum had arrived early to pick him up. She was shocked to see the type of games we played with him dressed in a girl’s pretty party dress, a bit of make-up, wearing girl’s shoes and socks… and not forgetting a thick nappy and matching plastic pants. Mrs McKay initially appeared speechless as Julie welcomed her in and told her what a delight her son was to have as a guest in her (yes her) house and how he’d been such a good sport joining in my (yes my) dressing up game. There were other parts of the conversation between the two I didn’t quite catch as I went over to Simon initially to take him back up to my room to change.

Simon was horrified, standing in the hallway almost scared to say or do anything. He was so shocked that his mother should have seen him dressed as he was he didn’t know what to do or where to put himself. But she was a smart woman and said something to the effect that he looked lovely but there was no time for him to change as they had to get home. Julie handed his mum his rucksack that he’d come with and told her that he’d been playing in the pool and all his clothes were wet. However, she suggested, that if Mrs McKay was in a rush she could take him as he was and return the clothes he was wearing later.

She took about 10 seconds to respond and then said “Come on Poppet, we have to be at your Aunty Jean’s later… so we’d better get you home and ready.”

A very shy and embarrassed boy dressed in a pink and blue party dress, with matching nappy and frilly plastic pants – Julie was a stickler for making sure everything was co-ordinated – was dumbstruck as his mother held out her hand and gestured they were leaving. He never said any goodbyes, just slowly walked as if he was being led out to the executioner. He was sobbing and reticent to go but his mum gently took his hand and eased him out to the car.

We all stood and waved him off and, now in retrospect, I suspect that there was an air of triumph about Julie, a sort of getting back at the boy who had replaced her as the most important person in my life. As I say, I wasn’t aware of such a thought at the time but once Simon was gone I wasn’t in much of a mood to continue playing games but of course Julie and her friends were and insisted that I join in.

I was no match on my own to a bunch of demanding, older girls so I complied… like I always did. For me the dressing up game continued as I was stripped and re-clothed in different outfits that the girls had brought along. They thought it great fun to get me to wear items that they had worn at my age… the game went on for hours. Mum didn’t get home until late that night and I ended up going to bed wearing a pale blue, satin, baby-doll nightie one of the girls had brought and a very thick nappy, which seemed to emphasise the billowing nature of the fabric.

I was just too shattered to do anything but submit to Julie and her friend’s wishes. They said I looked ‘lovely’ and in all honesty, I wasn’t bothered what I wore so, after kissing and thanking everyone for coming (Julie was a stickler for manners) I said my goodnights and toddled off to bed; the girls saying how nice my silky pale blue knickers looked over my nappy as I climbed the stairs. I think I was a glutton for compliments because I slowed my climb so I could hear more of their praise for how good I looked. Julie came and tucked me in and told me what a nice boy Simon was and how much she liked him and hoped we’d be seeing him again. I fell asleep hugging my teddy bear, thinking about Simon and how good he looked as we’d run around the garden in just our shorts. I couldn’t wait to see him at school the following morning.

This story is written by Les Lea

You can find more story’s like this one posted on My ABDL Life. The only thing you need to do is to check out this page to find them.

Chapter 2

Chapter 4

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Danni – My life as a living boy doll Part 1

This story is written by Les Lea

My older sister has been dressing me up since I was a baby. Shortly after I was born, Julie, who was 5 at the time, took it upon her young shoulders to look after her baby brother and make sure no harm came to him. Apparently, even at her early age, she was the one who washed and changed me and made sure I was clean and tidy at all times. She chose and fitted the nappy I was to wear, the plastic pants, the romper outfit, the clothes, she bottle fed me, winded me and choose my dummy…every decision seemed to be down to her. My mum would go shopping but it was always Julie who decided on the clothes she thought I should wear and, as it took a great deal of stress away from my mum, who had other things to think about, like running her own business, I was more or less brought up by my loving and attentive older sister.

My mother, a ‘peppy’ Californian girl had arrived in England desperate to get bedded by the lead singer of one of the world’s top rock bands. She followed them on tour but the closest she ever got to having her way with the singer, was to be part of an orgy that the bass guitarist held in his hotel room. It was after that dispiriting experience she decided she needed to find something else to occupy her time. From being a trainee at a London advertising agency, she quickly rose up through the ranks and within two years was heading her own creative department. A year later and she went solo, taking a whole host of the firm’s client base with her and making an absolute fortune in a very short time. She spent all her time working and had little time for relationships. Julie was the result of her first failed marriage to the boss of the original agency she had worked for – it had lasted 22 months and was a messy divorce. I think the fact she took so many of his clients with her hadn’t helped in the settlement. Her husband, Julie’s father, had wanted nothing to do with his young offspring when the divorce was finalised, so mum was left to bring her up on her own. From an early age Julie was encouraged to be her own person and mum saw her young but determined daughter flourish when given responsibility. On the other hand I was the product of her getting shagged by a young sexy intern.

I gather I was created over her office desk by an 18 year-old who, I understood, had just left a local art college. Apparently, mum had taken to him from the moment of his interview. His fine bone structure, his soft flowing blond locks, a gentleness and soft speech that set him apart from all the other young go-getters, really appealed to her. After the experience with her much older first husband, she set her sights on good-looking young men who would satisfy her occasional sexual cravings… and, she being who she was… the boss, got into his pants at the first available opportunity. Mum may have been 15 years older than her sex toy but she was (and is) a fantastic looking woman so I suppose it wasn’t that much of an ordeal for him. I must have been conceived on that very first occasion, mum obviously not taking the correct precautions because, two months later, when she realised she was pregnant, the young intern disappeared from the company pretty quickly. Mum told me many years later that he was a terrific, gentle lover and would have been a fine father, but at his age she knew he couldn’t, and shouldn’t, face such responsibilities and her guilt about using him had made it so he would simply slip into the annuls of history without the knowledge he was a father. His name was Daniel and that is what mum called me.

Perhaps another thing you might be interested in knowing is that I was a ‘star’ baby. Mum, always keen to keep an eye on her projects, had bundled me up a few weeks after my birth and had taken me along to an important client’s photo shoot. The photographer thought I was there for the scene and used me instead of the baby who’d been booked for the part. Apparently, even just weeks old, I was a very cheerful and passive baby who seemed to smile and gurgle all the time. I was adorable – according to both my mum and that original photographer. From then on I appeared in TV commercials, my naked bum being lathered with baby oil, wearing the latest disposable nappy or having me sucking in the latest milky formula… I was much in demand. Indeed, up until I was 2 years old I was used to sell every conceivable product for babies and toddlers. I was also the face for a range of baby food and milk products and according to my mum, I was on TV and posters right around the world. Alas, my career was over by the age of two when I was just too overused and a new face was needed. I can’t say it worried me one way or the other. Evidently, I’d been a baby boy or girl, depending on what sex the client wanted, and my sweet cute ‘none-specific gender’ looks meant I was the right image for whatever product they wanted to promote.

As a baby I was often mistaken for a girl. People would come up to the pram and goo-goo at my cuteness and say what a gorgeous little girl I was. My blond curly hair not adding much to the image of being a boy and the clothes, all pastel colours, lace and ruffles, contributing to the gender confusion. Although my name was Daniel, ever since I was a baby, Julie always called me Danni (with the emphasis on the ‘a’) and it seems that everyone else followed suit. In fact, I’m told that Julie would correct anyone, even family members, who called me Daniel insisting that I prefer Danni, the truth is I never had a say in anything. My life was pretty much organised by my sister, and to a lesser extent, my mother, so very little male influence ever entered my life. I suppose I was dressed more often as a girl than a boy because Julie was in charge of my wardrobe, so whether it was shorts or a skirt, it was all the same to me as I never knew if one was for a boy or girl. Even my mum’s occasional boyfriends weren’t really bothered, I think all they saw were two young children – both of whom were girls.

I remember one of her boyfriends, as always he was young but a bit rougher than her usual ‘type’, who used to ask me to dance for him. Although I was quite shy I had been encouraged to dance by Julie from a very early age, so thought nothing about such a request and I was hoping to please this new man in my mother’s life. He obviously thought of me as a little girl as every time he’d seen me Julie would have me dressed in a rather feminine way. On this one occasion I was about to attend a party organised by my sister, which included her friends and various dolls. I was dressed in a peach coloured satin dress and matching peach ruffled knickers that she had worn to parties when she was my age and thought the ensemble was the perfect festive wear. To me it was all the same, I wore what I was told and at 5 years old, it made no difference to me as I’d been wearing such stuff all my childhood.

However, dressed as I was, and dancing up close to my mother’s boyfriend, he grabbed me and pulled me close up between his legs telling me what a clever little girl I was and how pretty I looked and what a terrific dancer I was. Meanwhile, as I partly danced and partly squirmed about in his ‘loving’ embrace he was tickling me and trying to make me giggle, which I did. Unfortunately, as we were both laughing and ‘enjoying’ the moment I felt myself release a bit of pee. As the tickling continued it was pretty soon a flood and my satin peach-coloured ruffled panties became sopping wet through.

Mum came in wondering what all the laughter was about and saw me wet and wriggling in pure delight.

He’s always doing that. He loves to play dress up with his sister but…” She noticed I had a damp stain. “Poor boy has got over excited. Come on sweetheart let’s get you sorted out.”

As I left I looked back and he looked stunned. I think it was the first time he knew I was a boy.

When Julie saw the mess on my stained underwear she assumed whisked me away to be changed. This time, and even at 5 years-old, I was nappied and returned to the party in a new clean outfit that barely concealed my new protective plastic pants that rustled noisily as I moved. Again everything matched; they were lace trimmed, like the new blue frilly dress I was wearing (another set of Julie’s old clothes that had never been thrown out and that I now struggled to fit into). Once I was looking pretty and dressed accordingly I was finally allowed back into the fun with her friends where we all sat down to fairy cakes, ice cream and juice… Julie always threw a terrific party.

This story is written by Les Lea

You can find more story’s like this one posted on My ABDL Life. The only thing you need to do is to check out this page to find them.

Chapter 2

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Kenny Part 19

This story is written by Les Lea

The dark damp patch was spreading down my jogging pants and I felt miserable and, just as mum turned to look at me, I burst into tears.

“Oh Si… come here,” I could tell she was sorry that I’d overheard her but she wasn’t angry, she just wanted to comfort me. “Come on sweetie… come and sit with me.”

Her arms were outstretched and though part of me was angry, another part was desperate to be held. I was still crying when mum folded her arms around me and gently pulled me into her bosom. I was wet, crying and feeling like a silly little kid but because mum was hugging me tightly I felt I could let out all my anxieties in an explosion of tears. I heard her ask auntie to go and fetch Jake so I was left with mum as she stroked my hair and made reassuring noises.

As I calmed down I became more aware of my soaked pants. My briefs had not stopped the flood in anyway and I felt the dampness was more shameful because I was in a public place.

“I’m sorry mummy.” I heard the word as soon as I’d said it, ‘mummy’, and thought that w,and we’ll chat about what has happened recently.”

Jake arrived with auntie and noticed, but didn’t make any comment, about my wet patch. It would have been so easy for him to get one-up on his big brother but, and this is how he was now continually amazing me, he actually had a look of sympathy on his face.

***
Back in the room the first thing was to get changed. It was getting late so we both shrugged off our clothes and got ready for bed. Jake was in his racing car pajamas that auntie had made for him, whilst mum and me were in her bathroom getting wiped and powdered. Despite feeling stupid and childish having mum clean me up and fit me into a night time diaper felt really nice. Being taken care off was lovely and although auntie was very good at it, I’d missed this closeness with mum.

Once I was powdered and padded and we’d climbed into bed mum began to explain what had been happening over the last few months. Apparently, her system for the bank had gone global and the firm were now making more and more demands on her time. Her bosses had been desperate for her to relocate again but this time here in the capital and had offered her a tremendous increase in salary and ‘benefits’. Two of those benefits were that they would pay for Jake and my schooling, at the city’s best (and private) academy, there would also be a huge house (with pool) but they wanted mum close by, should she be needed, as she was too important to be halfway across the country.

Mum wasn’t boasting, she was just telling us the facts and, if truth be told, I was getting a huge feeling of pride that she was so important to the company. She said that it had come down to the point where the travelling, and more importantly, missing us, had made the decision for her… we were definitely moving.

***

Just hearing those words ‘definitely moving’ stabbed me in the stomach. I knew we’d been expecting it but it still sort of hurt and I wasn’t only thinking of Kenny at that point. I was about to say something when Jake got up out of bed and hugged mum.

“We hate not having you around mum. We love auntie…” He had a brief thought, “Is auntie coming with us too?”

“I’ve asked her but,” she quietly replied, “Auntie Rose has her own life… but I hope so.”

After a few seconds he went on, “We want to be with you mum…” There were hugs and kisses all round while mum explained a few more things. In the morning she was going to show us the academy, which was to be our new place of learning and the proposed new home. By the time she’d finished talking to us, we were getting quite excited about… everything.

When Jake and I were left alone we chatted about all the changes that might be about to happen. There was no doubt that he was handling the information far better than I was but I was trying to keep positive for him, and more especially for myself, I didn’t want to get anxious and pee my pants in public ever again.

***

At ten the following morning a company limo came and picked the four of us up and took us on a quick tour around the city before heading off into the outskirts. It was a pleasantly sunny day but a bit chillier than what we’d come to expect in Oakwood. However, as the day progressed so did the temperature and the trip proved very pleasurable.

The house was fantastic. Each of our bedrooms was at least twice the size of the ones back home, in fact, everything was bigger and we had loads of space. The one thing missing though was that it didn’t have the empty space out back like Oakwood, although it did have a pool, which unfortunately was covered when we went to look. We all thought the house was impressive and I even noticed auntie ‘earmarking’ one of the backrooms as a possible work space for her sewing.

We spent quite some time at the new place and even had a meal in the garden, well it was half in the garden and half in the kitchen as it all opened out into one another. Sliding glass frames made access to different parts of the house easy and at times you felt you were outside when in fact you were inside. It was all fantastic and even better because we had a chef to make us our lunch and she provided some very yummy things Jake and I had never eaten before.

***

As we were tucking in to another tasty little tartlet auntie’s phone pinged. She flipped it open and smiled as she read something on her text. She then showed me the screen and I saw Kenny wearing a kilt standing next to his daddy wearing his… they both looked brilliant.

Auntie read out the message and adopted a terrible Scottish accent. “A wee laddie and his daddy in Highland pose”, which had us all laughing. They were standing in front of some historic castle and really looked the part but, despite my happiness at seeing Kenny again, I suddenly realised that being without him hadn’t set me off crying. Of course I missed him but there was just too much going on here and the pang of… er… sadness that he wasn’t here soon passed as we were whisked off to check out the academy.

To my eyes the building was like a castle. The drive up to the main hall took forever but the grounds were beautifully kept. We saw a few boys wondering around in their uniforms, which were very smart and… none of them were wearing shorts. Then I wondered why they were there, were they not on break as well?

We met the principal, who apparently was reading our reports from Oakwood and was saying that we were just the kind of students the Academy was built for. He asked one of the ‘House Supervisors’ to show us around the campus and it quickly became apparent it was a place where you could easily get lost. I mentioned the boys we’d seen in the grounds and he said that they were borders and were staying on over the break because they couldn’t go home for “…one reason or another.”

I panicked and a sudden chill ran down my back as I meekly asked mum if we were going to be borders as well. She hugged both Jake and me together. “As if I wouldn’t want my boys with me all the time.” I felt relieved but still had a doubt about this place.

“Is the uniform the same for everybody?” I asked the House Supervisor.

“Yes. From the age of 7, which are our youngest students, until 18, the uniform stays much the same… mainly it’s the tie that differs, but that shouldn’t worry you just yet.” He smiled pleasantly at both Jake and myself and nodded reassuringly to mum and auntie.

Jake piped up, “Do we were short trousers…?”

“Not in class. You can wear shorts for certain sports of course but we have a very strict dress code here and everyone follows it.” He seemed very proud of that fact.

Mum and auntie nodded as we continued our tour, which took forever.

***

After the tour the limo dropped us back at the hotel and we sat in the coffee shop discussing what we’d seen. The new big house definitely got the thumbs up but I was less than excited about the prospect of the Academy. Having said that, at least schoolboy grey shorts weren’t part of the uniform so, I suppose, on that count, it was good.

I hadn’t been wearing a diaper or pull-ups all day and was pleased that I’d got through all the excitement without any accidents and my briefs were still dry. However, I wanted to get all wet, and as we couldn’t use the swimming pool at the house, mum let Jake and me go for a swim in the hotels large heated pool. We didn’t even have to go back to the room to collect our things because auntie had packed them in her bag as a precaution, just in case we could have gone in the pool at the new house.

Mum and auntie watched as we boys joined a group of other kids in some very wet and splashy games. I think mum looked relieved that we hadn’t rejected her plan and in the quiet moments when it was just me and Jake, we had decided mum was more important than Oakland. Not that we had a choice but we thought we should be grown up about it.

***

The rest of the week was spent sightseeing, sometimes just with auntie (if mum had to go into work), and other times all of us, which was really good fun. I was surprised there was so much to see and do in the city and even liked the huge monuments to our country’s heroes. Jake particularly liked the dinosaur exhibition in one of the museums, whilst I liked the old aircraft in another.

By the end of the week were all exhausted but it had been a fun and exciting few days. We were returning to Oakland on the Sunday but we had one more social function to attend before that. Mum’s CEO was having a garden party for some of the bank’s ‘elite’ staff at his home. She’d laughed when she said ‘elite’ as if dismissing the idea but I was very proud that mum was among those who were chosen to attend.

The night before we were due to go to the party I was lying in bed thinking about what we’d seen and done and I thought of Kenny. I wished I’d had auntie’s cell there and then so I could look at the photo of him in his kilt but then I got to thinking about other things to do with me and him. At the Academy I’d been pleased that the school uniform hadn’t included grey shorts, or indeed any colored shorts, but now that depressed me. Wasn’t it the fact that Kenny couldn’t conceal his diapers and plastic pants under his shorts that had drawn us together? Wasn’t my fascination with, and his openness about, his problem the reason we’d become best friends? As I gave more and more thought to my mental images of Kenny in his padded protection I found myself, for the first time in ages, gently rubbing myself up against the bedding. I wasn’t aware whether Jake was asleep in the opposite bed or not I just found my thoughts, the movement and the happiness I always felt about Kenny, quickly giving me that wonderful sensation that electrified my body. My boxers were messy but I slept like a… like a… like a contented cat.

***

As we were getting ready to go to the garden party we were wondering what to wear. Auntie had made some fantastic new clothes but, after the night thinking about Kenny, I wanted to feel near to him so I choose the pink shorts. Not only that, but I put on a disposable and plastic pants just so I felt even closer to him. I was hoping that at some point on his visit to Scotland he’d worn my green shorts but then thought about him running around in a kilt and that made me smile. I also wondered if he’d wear a diaper under it… or even if it was allowed… as Kenny had mentioned in an earlier chat about Scotland that nothing was worn under the kilt. Still, as I pulled the shorts over my padding I felt happy and comfortable. Auntie had knitted us jumpers, so Jake had a navy blue one to go with his pale blue shorts whereas mine was pale blue and white hoops. Both mum and auntie whistled in appreciation when we presented ourselves to them in their room.

A limo came to collect us and Brian the driver also commented on how smart we both looked, which pleased us boys tremendously and I’m sure I detected some pride in mum’s and auntie’s eyes.

***

Mum’s CEO Marcus Hetherington’s home was huge and when we arrived the garden party was already underway. We were greeted by Mr Hetherington and his wife Martha who quickly whisked mum off to meet some important guests. There were a few other kids there and, as it was such a pleasantly hot day, the magnificent pool looked blue and most inviting. However, with my protection in place I wasn’t planning on doing any swimming. Mrs Hetherington insisted that we meet her son Marcus Junior, who was twelve, and we’d be going to the same academy as he attended. She was full of praise for the place and auntie nodded in agreement.

Jake and I were presented to a group of three boys, all older than us, but Marcus was undoubtedly the leader. They were dressed in the latest designer brands and I thought he looked like, and dressed like, a photograph I’d seen of a rap star recently; very trendy, loads of bangles and a bit of a sneer as he spoke. He obviously didn’t want anything to do with the other kids who appeared to be enjoying the pool and was more interested looking at his messages on his cell.

Mum wouldn’t let Jake and me have cell phones yet, she thought they were more of a problem than a help to kids our age. In fact, the school wouldn’t allow them to be used in their grounds and certainly, anybody who brought one risked the prospect of having it confiscated and not returned until the end of the year. Because his mum had insisted he speak and ‘play’ with us he begrudgingly said “Hi” but eventually, when his mother had gone, he just turned nasty.

***

He and his friends thought we looked like little babies dressed as we were, not even wearing one designer brand but ‘homemade clothes’. He and his mates laughed at us and jeered that, if we were going to be at the Academy, we’d have to change. He said how he’d take great delight in telling everyone about our childish clothes and that we would be his ‘bitches’.

I had no idea what he meant by that but it sounded awful however, Jake had got a bit annoyed by his attitude and, despite mum telling us to be on our best behaviour, he told Marcus that he looked like a reject from a New York ghetto. I don’t know where he got the information, or the nerve, from but Marcus and his mates got very angry. They crowded around my little brother and started pushing him around. I stepped between them and told them to “back off” but Marcus snarled as he pushed Jake to the ground. My little brother is no coward but I think even he thought better of getting up straight away. I bent down to make sure he was OK, he was but I could see anger in his eyes. I looked up at the three bullies and they all had smirks on their faces. In fact Marcus lifted my jumper with his foot, I thought he was about to kick me, but smiled even more and called his mates off. I saw him whispering to them as I pulled Jake to his feet and we went off to simply put some distance between them and us.

***

For the next hour or so it was all very nice. We had some barbequed food and found other kids to play with. Mum and auntie were both chatting with various people and she seemed much in demand. If we were around she would introduce us to her work colleagues and they would chat about… well… I’m not sure but I’m sure it was important.

At one point I was crouched down by the pool talking to one of the other kids when I noticed his expression change. A shadow had blocked out the sun and I turned and looked up to see Marcus and his friends standing behind me. I got up and I saw a huge evil grin split his face. He grabbed my shorts and yanked them down revealing my padded protection.

“Look here, we have a baby with us. Just a big big baby.”

After the incident on the bus with the bully I had vowed that I’d never let anyone embarrass me again so perhaps strangely, I wasn’t horrified at being exposed in this way. I just looked at him with contempt on my face and went to pull my shorts up.

“No,” he said preventing me, “babies only wear diapers.” He shouted and pleased that he thought he was humiliating me in front of all the kids in the pool and all the adults who were suddenly aware of what was going on. However, he hadn’t bargained on swift action. From nowhere Jake ran up to him and with all the effort he could muster shoved the smug Marcus, fully clothed, into the sparkling pool.

“My brother may occasionally wet his pants.” He screamed at the surprised floundering boy, “But you’re wet all over.”

It was surprising how a fierce little boy can scare anyone and Marcus’s friend snuck awkwardly away as a sudden round of applause became apparent. I’d never been more proud of my little bro but as he watched Marcus struggle in the water, I could see the way he was looking at him. It was a ‘don’t mess with me or my brother’ challenge and I think everyone got the message.

Suddenly I had auntie next to me pulling up my shorts and scooping Jake into her warm embrace. Mum arrived seconds later wondering what had gone on. Auntie explained and I suddenly found my own voice.

“He goes to the Academy.” I pointed to the soaked boy struggling out of the pool. “I don’t think I want to go to a school full of bullies.”

***

People rallied around mum and I overheard some members of the banking staff say that it was something young Marcus needed. He was such a spoilt little…. I didn’t quite get what the man said but the inference was that no one liked the little jerk (that was one of the words I did hear). I saw mum was embarrassed at such a commotion, and that her children were at the center of it all, and she went off to apologise to our hosts.

Mrs Hetherington was drying her son down and obviously very angry with what had happened. Mum wanted us to apologise for our behaviour but Jake just stared at the sobbing Marcus in an act of defiance. Mrs Hetherington wasn’t happy but begrudgingly accepted mum’s apology. When we returned to the party Mr Hetherington slapped Jake on the back, winked and told him in a very conspiratorially way that he could work for him anytime. He seemed overjoyed with what had just happened and the mood at the party was soon lifted as more drink and food were served and a DJ started up and got us all dancing.

***

Back at the hotel mum was subdued and obviously had some things on her mind. Jake and I had both said ‘sorry’ to her for causing a scene but that wasn’t what was bothering her. She said that she’d been talking to the ‘tech people’ at the bank and they had said that she could have new, up-to-the- minute technology set up at home so she could be instantly, and more securely, in touch with head office. She wasn’t sure why she hadn’t thought of this before (possibly because no one had offered her this option), but now it looked like we had an alternative to the move.

She’d said that she’d agreed the plans with her CEO, who, after the son in the pool incident, had a new respect for mum and her family and had even offered to find a newer, bigger house for us to move to in Oakland. The upshot was… we were not going anywhere… well not for the foreseeable future, or not until we finished school in Oakland. She would commute to the city when absolutely necessary but the rest of the time she would use what technology could provide. Even auntie had agreed to stay on and she was even thinking of setting up a small business.

That night I climbed into bed with Jake and hugged him. I was still happily wearing my padding as I tickled him and cuddled up as he giggled. I told him how brave I thought he was and how proud I was of my little brother… and we both agreed that Oakland was a far better place than the capital… even if the capital had dinosaurs and monuments.

This story is written by Les Lea

You can find more story’s like this one posted on My ABDL Life. The only thing you need to do is to check out this page to find them.

Chapter 18

Chapter 20

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Kenny Part 18

This story is written by Les Lea

Although the days that followed hung heavy on my shoulders, it was the nights that were worse. Nearly every morning I’d wake up absolutely sodden. Sometimes I’d remember that I’d had a terrible dream but quite often I didn’t remember anything… and that worried me. I’d slipped into being able to wet the bed so easily that I now thought I must have a problem.

Mum wasn’t around much so it was left to auntie to deal with my ‘problem’ but I think she accepted that it was all down to the stress and upset I’d given myself worrying about the upcoming trip and my absolute conviction that we were about to move. I’d not told Jake about my fears as I didn’t want to get him all worked up again, and dear auntie couldn’t put my mind at rest so, as a result, my pajamas and diapers took the full impact of my anxieties.

Even though I tried to hide what was happening from everyone auntie had seen my predicament growing and had done her best to keep its effects to a minimum. She asked me if I needed help but I thought this was something I had to do myself. Every night I made sure I was well diapered and wearing my plastic pants and in the morning, with mum away in the capital, it was auntie who took away and washed the soaked material.

A couple of times I’d arrived home and to my horror had seen the freshly laundered cloth diapers hanging out in the back garden along with my plastic pants. I didn’t want Jake to see them and start asking questions so I mentioned my concerns to auntie who agreed to have everything dried and stored away before we both got back from school. Unfortunately, sometimes she’d been busy and had forgotten so, as we entered through the front door she would make a sudden bolt out the back to bring it all in.

***

It was strange that during the day at school I was fine, and like Kenny, had taken to wearing my briefs under my shorts and no other protection. We appeared to have no problem in that area though, come the night, I was still unhappy about what was going on at home and told him about my soaked diapers. I voiced my concerns to him that, despite mum only recently saying we weren’t going to move, I was anxious that we might have to. Kenny, lovely Kenny, looked me straight in the eyes and said.

“Do you miss your mummy?”

“Erm, well, yes, of course I do.” I mumbled back wondering how he could ask such a question.

“Do you think Jake does as well?”

“Yes.” I wondered where he was going with this.

“Well… just think how much your mummy is missing you and Jake.” He looked at me to see I understood. “Twice as much.”

“But,” I sort of pleaded, “I don’t want to go somewhere else. I want to be here… with you.”

Kenny held my shoulders and looked me in the eye. “Do you think you mummy wants to go?”

When he gets this solemn I find it difficult to hold his gaze because I know he’s pointing out something I have selfishly ignored. “No… I suppose not.”

“I think your mummy is doing her best to stay but, she has to work and if that work is elsewhere, she has to go.”

I knew all this. I wanted him to… I don’t know… tell me I was right and that… er… if the worst came to the worst I could go and live with him and … and… I ended up just sighing.

***

Kenny also had news for me. During the coming vacation he and his parents were flying to Scotland to see his grandparents… on his father’s side. He was very excited about meeting them as apart from speaking on the phone, he’d only met them when he was a baby and didn’t remember the occasion. He showed me some photographs of boys over there who wore plaid skirts, but he said they were tartan kilts, and it was the national costume. I vaguely remembered this fact from some old movie but it hadn’t sunk in.

He produced another photo of a young man, in his teens, who was looking very striking wearing only his kilt and boots, his chest was naked and pale but had a dark patch of hair… then Kenny nudged me and asked if I knew who it was. I had no idea but the smile and conspiratorial way he was looking at me suggested that I should so I stared harder.

“Is that… erm… is that, your daddy?”

My stunned recognition produced a huge smile that spread across his face and he burst into giggles.
“Yes it is. He was 15 at the time. Doesn’t he look handsome?”

Although at first I thought it looked bizarre, I had to confess there was something very manly about the image. He showed me more photos of men in kilts and apparently, in the army there, they all wear them. They looked fantastic and I told him he had to get a photo of him wearing one for me.

***

My upcoming trip to the capital was almost forgotten as we talked about Scotland and what he expected to see when he got there. His grandparents live just outside Edinburgh (which Kenny said is pronounced – Edin-bro) and there are historical castles and parades and mountains and lochs (again he said it was pronounced – locks)… ooh and bagpipes, which we both had a good laugh about. He was very excited about the flight, as he said that they’d be in the air for over ten hours and that apparently they show films and stuff. Yes he was very excited and he said that the only thing that would have made it even better was… if I was there with him.

Kenny has the habit of saying the most wonderful things just at the right time and not for the first time (and I doubted it would be the last) I was so grateful that he was my friend.

I asked him if his daddy still had his kilt and he said he did but it was back in Scotland, though he doubted that he’d get into it these days. Apparently they are quite expensive to buy so you never get rid of them… you pass them on to the next generation.

“Oh, so you might have a kilt to wear when you get there,” I enquired.

“S’pose so,” his eyes lit up, “let’s hope so and then I can get that photograph for you.”

When not in class we spent a great deal of time discussing Scotland and what they planned on doing on their trip. There was hardly a break went by without he didn’t come up with another piece of information about the place or something he hoped to do once he arrived.

***

Because Kenny was going to be in another country, oddly, my trip to the capital didn’t seem as worrying as I was imagining. However, one night as I lay in bed I was suddenly engulfed with ‘thoughts and what ifs’, which had me panicking. What if they decide to stay there? What if he finds a new best friend? Or worse still, what if the plane crashes? Suddenly I was terrified I might not see him again and I was sobbing loudly when auntie came in to see what the problem was.

She hushed and shushed and calmed me down as I lay there unsure of why I’d let my thoughts get so out of hand. Auntie’s reassuring influence was a great help and I was surprised when she asked if I’d wet myself because I quickly realised that I had. Until auntie had asked I was totally unaware of what I’d done but, as usual, once she knew of the situation auntie was quickly on it. My pajamas were off, as were the plastic pants and pull-ups and I was wiped, powdered and thickly re-diapered in record time. She went to my closet and pulled out the pink quilted diaper cover that I had now inherited from Kenny (as he had done mine) and pulled it into place.

“No matter where you go… or Kenny goes,” she said as she eased up my pajamas, “you two will always be together.” She touched her heart briefly. “You boys will always be connected.”

Her words were very comforting and I slipped into a deep sleep reassured that all would be well.

***

The week building up to recess was full of daily tests and like the rest of the school I had to work hard to keep up. Jake was constantly asking me questions, which, as the older brother I was expected to know the answers to. I tried to help him as best as I could and as I studied he would sit on my bed and we’d work together.

One night, when I thought he’d already gone to bed, I was changing myself and he walked in as I was slipping a pair of thick rubber pants over my thick night time diaper. Again I was caught off-guard and about to shout at him when he said.

“Are you OK?” He came over and put his arm on my shoulder. He was wearing his favourite shorty pajamas that auntie had made for him. The look of concern quickly dispelled my anger and I felt tears begin to well up.

I put my hand on his. “Just really…” I wasn’t sure what to say, “worried about… stuff… the tests…”

I wanted to say ‘and our visit to the capital’ but it was him who said it. “Yer… and mum looks really tired from all her trips… I bet she wishes we could move to save all that travelling.”

He pulled slightly away from me and then added some words I never thought I’d hear from him. “It would stop you being so stressed as well.”

As he said this he sort of looked at my thick padding, “You’ve been having a pretty awful time of it yourself.”

He patted the front of my rubber pants and, at the same moment, I was surprised to feel a huge weight lift from my shoulders. Jake has never been stupid or slow and I was ashamed that I had assumed he had no idea what was happening when in fact he knew but had said nothing so as not to embarrass me. At that moment I loved my little brother and almost squeezed him too tightly showing my appreciation.

***

“I miss having mum around. I love auntie being with us but I want mum. I want to be with mum.” Jake had put into words much of how I was feeling.

We lay in my bed together talking about what we thought might happen. Like me, he had also decided that this trip to the capital was for us to check things out. He told me how he didn’t want to leave his friends but he wanted mum around more. And, in a very grown up assessment said that we’d moved once and that was great, so who was to say another move wouldn’t also be good?

I was quite pleased with how Jake had taken on the mantle of the older, wiser, clever (my addition) brother and had come to such conclusions. Like Kenny had done, he made me think and perhaps, instead of fighting or worrying about what might happen, I should just go along with it and be positive. I thought Kenny would be proud of me… but then I thought more of Kenny and I knew it was because of him I didn’t want to move.

“If we did move,” Jake continued, “You’d miss Kenny a lot wouldn’t you?”

It was if he was reading my mind. “Just think how cool it would be to show him around the capital on school breaks.” He was smiling to himself as if he’d come up with a really clever plan. “You could become a tour guide.”

He was babbling now, well I thought he was and I just wanted to sleep so, I pulled the cover over us both, hugged him tightly, kissed the back of his head and told him to shut up. He made no move to leave and go to his own room… and I was very grateful to have my brother to cuddle all through the night.

***

The following day was amazing. I woke up dry (and still snuggling my brother), mum had returned overnight and I breezed through the school tests. Even Kenny commented on how more relaxed I looked and I happily grinned knowing how right he was.

Now I didn’t feel guilty I could talk about going to the capital with the same interest that Kenny had shown for Scotland (except without the kilts) and actually started reading more about the place and making plans to what I’d like to see. Kenny helped, suggesting places he’d love to visit, places he’d heard his mummy and daddy talk about and things he’d found of interest on the net. Even our teacher, Miss Pendle, heard about both our trips and had set us the task of being ‘roving reporters’ so on our return we could tell the class all about our ‘exciting experience’ (her words).

We were both so pleased with our new titles that our thoughts moved to becoming junior journalists on the town’s paper. The fact that in a very short time we’d gone from wanting to be Boy Scouts, pilots and a host of other things (and done nothing about any of them) didn’t matter because… our teacher had said we were to be ‘reporters’. We spent a couple of lunchtimes practicing reading the news on a pretend TV news programme. We kept saying something, and like they did on the real news, we handed over to each other for the next item.

“Coming up – Kenny Morrison and Simon Hudson bring you the latest news, sport and weather.” We’d shuffle some imaginary papers, look at each other and fall into hysterics.

***

We spent the last day at school making promises and hugging one and other. Kenny was actually going to be flying out early the Saturday morning and we were flying to the capital Saturday afternoon. He said he was excited but also worried about his first flight although his daddy had tried his best to allay any fears. However, he did say he was scared of having to use the bathroom so his mummy had told him not to worry as she would get him well padded before the trip and he could do whatever he wanted, when he wanted. This seemed a great idea and I suggested to mum that it might be a good idea for me to be protected in a similar way prior to our departure.

She wasn’t keen and kept insisting that we’d only be in the air for a couple of hours, if that, but I was resolute that I didn’t want to embarrass myself on my first flight. She pointed out that Jake wasn’t going to be wearing a diaper and plastic pants so didn’t see why I should but as I said I’d do it myself the conversation ended with her shrugging her shoulders.

Auntie whispered that she’d get me ready to make sure I didn’t look too padded and that she’d also been busy and had made special new outfits for Jake and me to wear during our visit

***

On the day of the flight we actually found out she’d made several. We had blue hoodies and jogging pants (mine with an ‘S’ and Jake’s with a ‘J’ on the front), because she said that the capital can get cool this time of year, and sets of shorts, shirts and t-shirts that looked fantastic for during the day.

I’d had a shower and just about to get ready for the flight when auntie came in to supervise. I didn’t need her but the fact that she’d gone to so much trouble made me happy to let her get involved. As I sat on the bed wrapped in a towel she went to the closet and pulled out a thick, terry diaper. She oiled and powdered me and fastened it in place, then, as a surprise, she fished from her bag another ‘special’ quilted diaper cover in purple. My eyes lit up in delight and auntie said that it was ‘royal’ purple for her little prince. She tugged it into place and got me to stand up and see how it looked and felt. It was awesome.

She suggested that I travel in the hoodie and joggers, and went and suggested that Jake did the same (he had already decided that’s what he’d wear). With the loose pants in place my padding didn’t look too obvious and I was so happy with what auntie had done I gave her a huge hug and kiss.

All the way through our flight I wanted to go for a pee but decided I’d try and hold out until we landed. I don’t know why I made that choice seeing as how I was so adamant that I needed my protection but it pleased me that I could do so. However, I was so desperate to go when we were being driven to our hotel that I couldn’t hold out any longer and had my first wetting experience in the capital.

When we got to our room, mum and auntie were sharing one and Jake and I had another, which was connected by a door, auntie whisked me to the bathroom and, armed with all the stuff she needed, cleaned me up before anyone else was aware. This time, instead of a diaper, auntie decided that as we would be going out and seeing the sights, I’d feel better wearing a pair of briefs, which I happily slipped into.

***

The view across the city from our room was fantastic and we were eager to explore as soon as possible. Looking out of the window Jake was busy trying to pinpoint exactly where certain places were but in the end had to admit he had no idea. We were just about to go out for a meal when the heavens opened up and it began to pour down so we ended up eating in the hotel’s restaurant, which was very nice but we wanted to see the sights. The weather stopped us going much further but as the hotel was huge, and had loads of things to do, we changed our plans and played in the ‘Games Arcade’, while mum and auntie sat in the lounge opposite drinking coffee and chatting.

At one point I went to ask mum for some more money but I wanted to check out another area for kids. Sadly it was for those who were much younger and although I was tempted to jump in the ball pool, I decided that a ten year-old should be more responsible. However, that little trip took me in a circular route and I ended coming up behind mum and auntie. I wasn’t being sneaky or anything but I over-heard mum saying to her sister that she was dreading tomorrow and was finding it difficult to explain her plans to us. Auntie suddenly caught my eye and, as my heart sank, she swiftly changed the subject.

I knew all my worries had been for a reason and the realisation I was right gave me a queer, uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. It was strange that, although we knew that this trip might mean an eventual move, to have it confirmed like this had an unfortunate effect. I wish had still been wearing my protection as it would have come in useful.

This story is written by Les Lea

You can find more story’s like this one posted on My ABDL Life. The only thing you need to do is to check out this page to find them.

Chapter 17

Chapter 19

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Kenny Part 15

This story is written by Les Lea

It seems strange that only a few months ago I could never remember any of my dreams but now, well, they were occupying my day as well as night. My imagination was making things real whether I was awake or asleep and it was happening more and more. After my very realistic, explosive but imagined experience with Adam earlier in the evening, I was suffering another frustrating dream featuring him as I slept.

We were at school and he was wearing his padded protection, except he was complaining to anyone who’d listen that it was me who was forcing him to wear it. I was desperately trying to tell him he could wear what he liked and explaining that I only wore stuff from time to time. The confusing thing was this, although I knew I was wearing my protection, every time I opened my shorts to show him I was padded, there was no padding just a normal pair of briefs. Adam was surrounded by his school friends, who were all looking at his bulky pants, commenting and mocking him. The fact that I couldn’t prove he wasn’t alone in wearing diapers to school was making him feel vulnerable.

Kenny wasn’t in this dream. In fact, everyone but him was there and all watching Adam who was trying to hide away in embarrassment. I was trying to tell him it was OK and that he wasn’t alone but, that was proving a problem, it was as if I wasn’t there. The trouble with dreams is that they seem so true. I was convinced I only wanted to help but appeared to be making it worse. Adam began crying as his class mates began to pick on him even more and, although I felt his pain, I could do nothing. His pitiful weeping woke me up a little, and as I was coming round I realised I was in bed and only dreaming so, relieved, I fell back to sleep. The only thing was… the dream would start all over again… and this was for the third or fourth time.

***

Although still fairly dozy, hearing my bedroom door close had woken me up but I could still hear sobbing and voices. I got up and opened my door and there was auntie just checking in on Jake. She saw me and looked at my bedraggled state and came over to hug me.

“I thought I heard voices. Is mum home?” I babbled sleepily. “I heard someone crying.”

“It’s OK Si,” Auntie was soothing as always. “Shh, shhhh, your mum is having a bath… and you my little sweetheart were having a bad dream.”

She guided me back to my bed, even though I wanted to see and talk to mum. “You can speak to her in the morning. Now let’s get you all tucked…”

She paused when she realised that my bed was wet through. “Oh Si, seems like it was more of a nightmare than a dream.” She sat me on the chair next to my desk. “Wait there and let me fix this.”

I was still very drowsy but auntie soon had my bed stripped, mattress turned and it all remade in moments as I was trying to work out what was happening. Once the bed was done auntie turned her attention to me. My sodden t-shirt and boxers were removed, I was wiped clean, powdered and put into a very thick terry cloth diaper, which she pinned into place.

“OK young man, now you’re all clean and tidy, lift up your legs.” I sleepily lifted them up and she slipped a pair of thick plastic pants into place. “There, all done. You should be OK now.”

I slowly wondered back to bed and auntie tucked me in, ran her hand through my hair and wished me ‘night-night’ once again.

Before she went I asked her, “Is mum OK? I heard crying.”

She came back to my bed and again ran her hand through my hair. “Oh sweetheart. It was you who was crying. Your mum just popped her head in because she heard you… but you stopped once she’d kissed and tucked you in.”

I didn’t understand. It was Adam who was crying in my dream not me and I definitely heard crying when I woke up. Surely it wasn’t me who was in tears?

“I’ll tell your mum to come and talk to you when she’s finished her bath. You’re obviously worried about… something. In the meantime, you’re well-padded, your mum’s home… and we all love you so, try and go back to sleep… everything will be alright.”

I don’t know if mum came back to chat because the diaper was so comforting I fell asleep almost immediately and didn’t wake up until I had to get up for school.

***

As I pulled back the covers and saw my thick protection the events of the night came back to me and for some reason, I felt tears in my eyes once again. I wasn’t sure why, perhaps I was just upset at Adam being upset. Maybe it was wetting the bed and having auntie come to clean me up. Then I remembered that auntie had said it was me who was crying, and crying loud enough to bring mum to check in on me. I wasn’t sure why I should suddenly be so tearful but, whatever the reason I was a bit nervous about getting dressed and seeing everyone at breakfast. In the end I stripped out of my night ‘defence’, washed and, with a reassuring pair of pull-ups in place, ventured downstairs.

“Morning sweetie,” Mum said as she held out her arms for me to give her a hug. “Are you alright now… you had a bit of a rough night.”

I hugged mum tightly. “I missed you mum.” She held me in a tight embrace and then gently patted my slightly padded bottom to signify it was time for release.

“I missed you as well.” Jake was eating his breakfast so I suppose he’d already done all his hugging. “It’s been a busy time for us all… what with Jake at Jeremy’s, you and Kenny, and Auntie Rose having to…” she left it unsaid but I knew what she was referring to.

Like Jake I was dressed in my uniform and ready for school but I wanted to know about mum’s trip and if she had made a decision… were we moving?

“Is that what’s been worrying you?” She looked sympathetically at me. She spread her arms again and invited both Jake and me into her embrace. “No, for the moment anyway, we aren’t going anywhere.” I was so relieved and cried with happiness, and so did my brother.

A huge cloud had been lifted and even if it was overcast outside, at least it was sunny for us two.

***

I was full of smiles when I met Kenny. “We’re not moving.”

The huge grin that appeared on his face told me he was happy with the news before he came over and gave me a big hug.

“That’s fantastic.”

“Mum says we are staying here. I’m so pleased. I was worried I might lose…” Once again Kenny supplied the rest of my sentence by hugging me even tighter and whispering in my ear.

“I’d hate it if you weren’t here… and my friend,” then sighed a little as he secretly kissed my ear.

A thrill ran through my body. My best friend was hugging and kissing me in public and I was wriggling happily in his embrace enjoying every second.

“Do you want to come over to my house this weekend?” He murmured so no one else would hear.

Our bare legs were brushing up against each other and I didn’t want the feeling to stop. The tightness in my pull-ups I hoped was matched by a similar sensation for Kenny but eventually we pulled away. I nodded yes… then realised that this would be the first time I’d stayed at his place. I’d visited his home when we’d gone up to the lake but I’d never been inside, on that occasion we were in just too much of a hurry to set off. So, for the rest of the week I was imagining what his room would be like.

***

Kenny lived at the opposite end of town to where we were so it wasn’t a place where I could just nip over to play with him when I wanted. Lifts had to be organised, and although I had a bike, and the streets were fairly safe, mum was never keen for either Jake or me cycling too far away from home. So, believe it or not, we didn’t socialise much out of school because of the distance. So, a trip to Kenny’s house was going to be quite an event, well at least that’s how I built it up in my mind.

Because of the way Kenny always spoke I had this image in my mind just what his bedroom would look like. It would be colourful, possibly pink, there would be cartoon posters or wall paper, soft lighting, a little table and chair like I had and the room would be full of soft toys and kid’s games… there’d also be a mobile hanging down over a crib… not a bed. For some reason I just assumed he would have taken the whole ‘babyish’ thing to the limit and his mummy and daddy would let him sleep in a nursery and be more than happy to go along with it.

***

Mum was needed back at head office for the weekend so, once she’d dropped me off Friday night and handed me my backpack, auntie had Jake all to herself. Kenny had said that he hoped we could spend the entire weekend in our onesies but I wasn’t sure if that would happen. I had my blue and yellow shortie and my white (like a rabbit) long one, neither of which I thought appropriate for such a length of time. I also brought the ‘special’ outfit that matched with Kenny’s and hoped we’d get the opportunity to do as auntie had suggested – ‘mix’n’match’.

At the door auntie had a few words with Mrs Morrison and I overheard her say that Kenny had been very excited about his time spent at our house and how much he’d loved the things she’d made for him and me. Mrs Morrison seemed genuinely pleased to meet mum’s sister and complimented her on her design and sewing prowess. I think the conversation, which auntie seemed delighted about, would have gone on longer except that Jake was with her and she’d promised him a visit to the movies.

As we waved auntie and Jake off Mrs Morrison beamed her friendliest smile and said that she hoped I’d enjoy what was planned. Kenny was, as usual, all enthusiasm and smiles, so I eagerly joined in the general feeling of happiness that his mummy seemed to radiate.

***

For some reason I was sad that Mr Morrison was on duty for the entire weekend and it was down to his wife to keep us boys entertained. He’d been a lively and inventive ‘games’ organiser up at the lake and I also liked his relaxed attitude to being naked. Actually, when I thought about it, none of the Morrison family were shy about how they dressed (or not), and up at the lake it was often the bare minimum to wander around in. Unlike so many of the other boys Kenny was not fazed when changing in the locker room, it just never occurred to him to be anything other than relaxed when it came to dressing or undressing. I know me and Jake are fairly casual about being naked in front of each other, but we’re brothers so I don’t suppose that counts.

Kenny led me to his room to stow my backpack and I was truly amazed at what I saw. Apart from the array of stuffed animals it was nothing like I had pictured it would be. The walls were painted a dark blue, his little bed was black with a blue two-tone duvet, the black wooden floor was shiny and there wasn’t a thing out of place. His clothes were stored in two big black closets and he had a huge set of draws, also in black. It was across the top of this where his collection of teddy bears and animals sat. On his desk were a collection of framed photographs; one of his mummy and daddy, one of the family and seven of Kenny and me together… one of which was the image of him and me in our thick protection up at the lake… we did look silly, innocent… and cute. I wanted to get a copy.

***

He opened one of his closets and it contained his onesies and piles of diapers and stuff, not unlike my own, except his were beautifully arranged. In the second closet were all his other clothes; school uniform, Sunday best, suits, shirts and shorts. I thought his mummy must have been very well organised but he told me it was he who had sorted everything to how he wanted it. He emptied my backpack and hung my clothes up in a little space he had left just for my clothes. There was no computer or TV around, just a clock radio on his nightstand and again, another photo of me and him, which I didn’t know had been taken, talking to one of the scouts. I could see why he wanted that particular image as the boy in the uniform looked stunning.

Kenny told me to make myself at home but his room was just so tidy that I felt a bit nervous of doing anything that would spoil the look of the place. I asked him if it was always this clean and he giggled nervously as he told me he loved dusting, polishing and sweeping the entire house. He said that as both his mummy and daddy had busy jobs he’d learned early on to help out. He could do these little tasks, which were appreciated, and the more praise he got, again he giggled, the more pride he took in keeping up his good work. I wondered if Jake and me would ever be that thoughtful but remembered that Kenny is nothing less than an angel so it was quite fitting he should think of others.

***

As he showed me around, Kenny was dressed in his soccer kit; just shorts and team jersey, and didn’t appear to be padded at all. As usual I was wearing shorts and t-shirt and I had my pull-ups on, which I have to say, I was wearing more often than my briefs these days. Unlike our house Kenny’s was all on one floor, although he did say they had a basement, which I hadn’t seen yet. But like us, they had a huge back garden although in it they had a little ‘summer house’ painted pink and pale blue, that Mr Morrison had built himself. It looked like it was straight from the pages of a cartoon book and I imagined three little pigs or Snow White living there. It was really very nice and Kenny was very proud of it, telling me that he often came there to read or write. He said that in the summer months the family spent nearly all their time in the garden and using the little house. I asked him where the three little pigs and Snow White went when that happened and he looked at me strangely. I then realised I’d only thought about those characters I hadn’t said it out loud. I felt rather silly.

Once I explained my ‘joke’ he laughed and we went inside where he showed me some paintings and drawings he’d done over the past few months. He was particularly proud of one he’d done of me sitting on a fence wearing my, sorry, his old blue checked shorts. I even remembered the incident because I was exhausted with all the running around and had just stopped to pull up my diaper. I think I could even make out the bulge under the shorts. Still, I was quite delighted that he’d used me as a subject and the job he’d done wasn’t bad at all. I think you could definitely tell who it was… if you knew me.

***

My best friend had even more talent than I realised and he said he wanted to paint me again sometime during the visit. I got quite excited at the prospect and wondered if he wanted me to dress up as a cowboy, a gladiator (we’d been learning about them in class) a soccer player or maybe his favourite pop star. Then I realised that he’d asked me to bring my onesie, so I assumed that would be how I was to be captured for eternity.

When it began to get colder we went in and he showed me their basement – it was like a sports center.
The area was huge and had a pool table, table-tennis table, weight training equipment, a running and rowing machine, a TV, sofas and chairs and at the far end there was a screened off part that Kenny said was a bedroom for guests. I was a bit stunned and wondered if this is where I’d be sleeping but Kenny quickly allayed my fears when he said that usually his grandparents used it on their visits.

“Oooh good,” I let out a relieved sigh, “I thought it was where I might be sleeping.”

Kenny shook his head. “No way.” He placed a hand on my shoulder and looked at me through his long thick lashes. “I don’t think I could sleep knowing you were nearby… but not with me.”

“Does you father like to workout?” I said surveying all the equipment.

“Yes, he’s a bit conscious of keeping fit for his job. In fact mummy and daddy both use this stuff regularly.” I was about to ask if he did as well but he continued. “Daddy won it, well most of it, in a competition.” He pointed to various bits of heavy training machinery. “But daddy thinks that most of it might be too much for me… he only lets me use some of it.”

He sat at the rowing machine and gave a few pulls, then got up and let me try. As I stretched my shorts rode up showing him my pull-ups and he could see the cartoon character on the front.

“I’ve got some like those,” he smiled, “mummy thinks they look cute.” I nodded as I tried to make the ‘rowing’ look easy but I soon tired of that game.

We snuggled up on one of the sofas and turned on the TV, it was tuned into a sports channel and was showing some European soccer. Kenny was interested so, even though I wasn’t, I curled up close to him and we watched until we were called to dinner.

***

After the meal Mrs Morrison turned on the computer, they had it hooked up to the TV in their living room and started to show me some of the fantastic photographs that were taken on our trip to the lake. Mrs Morrison was very funny with some of her comments and we had to keep going back to certain shots because we’d missed them with laughing so much. I wanted copies of everything, yes even the ones of us in our diapers and rubber pants – Mrs Morrison called us ‘The Protection Boys’ and had done a sequence of images and short video clips, which she’d made up a story for – we were investigating ‘The Disappearance of… the Fish.” The way Kenny was laughing, hiding in embarrassment, and squealing with delight I guessed he hadn’t seen this version before and I was so happy to be included in the Morrison family photo album.

We watched it twice more and were in equal fits of laughter each time, it was very funny and loads better than the DVD we’d had at my house. Mrs Morrison was giggling as much as we were and I marvelled at how inventive she was to come up with such a fantastic idea.

Time just seemed to shoot by and before we knew it it was time for bed. I could have sat and watched it again but as I got up Mrs Morrison handed me a silver disc. She’d written on it in marker pen; ‘The Lake and the Strange Case of the Disappearing Fish’ starring Simon Hudson… I held it for a few seconds in wonder, not really believing I had a copy of my own… then excitedly hugged her tightly in thanks.

***

After we’d washed and brushed our teeth we returned to Kenny’s bedroom. I was half expecting to see his bed festooned with diapers and stuff, or at least his mother there to make sure we were well padded for the night but… no. Kenny stripped off down to his briefs, so I stripped off down to my pull-ups and we stood looking at each other. Kenny said that he thought I looked really good in the rubber pants at the lake and wondered if I liked them as well. I nodded.

His mother tapped on the door and asked quietly if we boys needed any help? “No thanks mummy… we can do it ourselves.” He said as he looked straight into my eyes.

“OK then, good night boys.” We chorused a return good night. “Don’t stay up too long and I’ll check on you when I go to bed.”

“Thanks mummy… good night.” He moved over to his closet and pulled out two disposable diapers. He nodded at my pull-ups as if to say it was time to lose them and I slowly shimmied them down. He lay out a waterproof mat and indicated for me to lie out, which I did. He got some oils and lotions and, as if I was a baby, rubbed everything in and around my penis. It reacted but Kenny took no notice and continued making sure I was well moisturized before applying the powder. Once he was happy, and I was trying not to giggle or be too embarrassed about my slightly stiff penis he fastened me into the double diapers, pulling at the tapes tightly to make sure I was held in a diaper embrace. He then went and collected a couple of pairs of rubber pants. He pushed my feet into the air and fitted me into one of them. I assumed the other was for him but I was wrong. This first pair was small and pulling them up to my waist they gripped me and everything very tightly. He then quickly slid the other pair over them so I was very bulky and snug. Well perhaps snug isn’t the correct word but I certainly wasn’t going to be running anywhere soon.

***

He stood back and gauged his work before going to the closet and getting out a onesie I hadn’t seen before. It was made of shiny nylon, actually, it was made from the same material auntie had made the ‘special’ quilted diapers from, and it looked very new and glossy. It was pink, Kenny’s favourite color, with blue cuffs. He guided it over my head, fed my arms through and fastened the pop studs between my legs. I thought I looked like a very bulky shiny doll but the look of happiness on Kenny’s face told me he liked what he saw. He bent down and kissed me slightly on the lips and pulled me to my feet.

“Do you like it?” His smile told me even more. “You look fantastic.” He murmured.

I looked in the mirror and, although at first I wasn’t too sure, as Kenny stroked his hand over the silky fabric and across my padded bottom, I began to enjoy the attention and, if I was honest, quite liked the reflection.

Kenny walked over to his closet and said, “Right, your turn.” I looked a bit quizzically at him. “You can use anything in here… you just dress me as you’d like to see me.” And with that he pulled off his briefs, and, ever tidy, placed them in his wash basket, and stood naked waiting for me to make my move.

This story is written by Les Lea

You can find more story’s like this one posted on My ABDL Life. The only thing you need to do is to check out this page to find them.

Chapter 14

Chapter 16

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