Plush hug

My 18th Birthday Part 1

This story is written by Les Lea

“Stoopid, stoopid, stoooooopid,” I was so angry with myself for letting it happen. I was rapping my knuckles on my forehead, shouting and scowling at myself because I just couldn’t believe how stupid I’d been.

I know I’m not the brightest person in the world but I should have caught on sooner and I wouldn’t be in the mess, literally, that I was now… sitting in. With a thick diaper stuck to my body, I disliked immensely the way the poop engulfed everything and made me feel both dirty and queasy. It didn’t help that I was being chastised for being “A dirty little baby” and made to feel that was all that I would ever achieve.

Banging my head wasn’t helping as it hurt. I sat shaking in my pile of poo unable to do much else and began, as I so often did these past few days, to cry. No doubt I looked the picture of abject misery but, this is what the people had wanted and they were getting just that from my current display.

*

My name is Benjamin or Ben, never Benjy as I’ve always thought that sounded so childish. My parents are both quite high achievers in their respective fields; mom being an art historian and dad being a Biotech company CEO. My older sister, Gwyneth had her first book published when she was sixteen, her second did quite well and her third, Smart Moves, had recently been optioned for a movie.

I on the other hand am basically just that, basic. I have no conspicuous talent. I cannot play sports very well (although I’m always game for a … game) and my academic achievements had me constantly in the bottom half-dozen or so. It wasn’t that I didn’t try, Hell; I never stopped trying as I had a great deal to live up to but I just wasn’t clever enough. Simply put, compared to the rest of my family I am DUMB, not gifted in anyway but, on the plus side, I would try anything if I could.

Whereas the rest of my family have terrific jobs I’m stacking produce at our local superstore. It’s boring and doesn’t pay well; a group of Mexicans, East Europeans and me all work for minimum pay just so we have a job to our name. It probably is about the only thing I can do without mucking up but I’d like something better. But hey, look around you – do you see loads of bosses desperate to give high paying jobs away to the likes of me? You get what you’re given and like it… or at least don’t complain about it.

I’ve heard being described by my parents as ‘over-emotional’ (although it’s always said as a whisper and as if I wasn’t even in the room). Obviously it is a somewhat dismissive term but I’m not sure I know why being ‘over-emotional’ is a bad thing. OK, I admit that I can cry at seeing kittens and puppies playing (in fact any baby creatures immediately win my heart) but it’s out of joy. I know I’ve been known to cry at some awful news story where people have been hurt or killed and I also seem to identify with the images of the starving across the world and yes, I am emotional and get upset about any form of violence. For a guy my age I watch very little TV because I find it too violent and the same with computer games. My friends, those few I have, think I’m weird and a bit of a ‘softie’ (although I’m sure they say much worse).

OK. So I’m still living at home with Mom and Dad, when they are here, otherwise I’m shipped off to my clever author sister while they are away on business, vacation or whatever as they don’t trust me not to wreck or set fire the house if I’m left to my own devices. Chance would be a fine thing.

*

It was approaching my 18th Birthday and I was looking forward to some kind of celebration as all my other (few) friends had huge parties when they had reached this magical age. Alas, both my parents would be away on business for a month and my sister wasn’t interested in giving me a party. I suggested we go out for a meal, or something, but she’d just had some bad news herself and was in no mood for any kind of celebration.

Gwyneth had just found out that her boyfriend of three years had recently sired a baby with another girl, whilst my sister had just lost her own. Her house was no place for merriment and I was happy to spend as much time as I could stacking shelves and collecting trolleys just so I wasn’t around her too much.

However, one late night I saw her looking through an album of old photographs. She was smiling at a page that had some rather cute pictures of me. The one she was particularly happy about was of me, I must have been barely one year-old, sleeping and cuddling my teddy bear (Teddy), whilst wearing only a particularly thick and well-pinned diaper. My blue pacifier seemed to cover half my face but I looked so happy and contented hugging Teddy tightly. According to Gwyneth, I was always a happy, chirpy little baby, always smiling and rocking in my diaper or crawling around on some expedition that ended with me back where I started.

*

Eventually, as we settled together on the sofa she asked, with an air of sadness, regret and nostalgia, what it was that I missed most about my childhood. I shrugged and looked at the album, the page still open at me and my teddy bear.

“That.” I said emphatically. “I miss having something to cuddle.”

When I was five years-old my parents, no doubt thinking it was for my own good (or something they had read somewhere) decided to get rid of all my childish notions by throwing out all my baby toys and mementoes. Teddy went with the rest of the stuff to the goodwill store and I never saw him again. I was devastated and I know for weeks after I’d wake up wet both from crying so much and peeing the bed. The last thing they wanted to do was put me back in diapers (it was against the very concept of my growing up) but mom would only put up with wet sheets for a couple of days before she insisted I wear disposables on a night. Oddly enough, these became my comfort for the next few months until I was gradually weaned off my loss of Teddy and eventually back into pjs.

Gwyneth took another look at the photo I was still pointing at.

“You do look particularly sweet,” she said nodding at the photo and then half to herself, “perhaps I should get you something special for your birthday after all?”

Now I love my sister, in fact, I love everybody. I try not to be nasty to anyone and I go out of my way to be respectful to my seniors (Gwyneth is six years older than me) and try and do what I can to help if they are in difficulties or provide a cheerful word if they look like they might need one. I’m no Good Samaritan but I do help out at charity events and the church if they need any volunteers. At work, on their charity day, I was helping run the crèche, organise the free food and dress up as a clown to entertain the children. I got extra credit for all my efforts and was able to get an extra 5% off anything I bought in the store that week. Alas, I had no money and there was nothing I wanted.

*

As my 18th birthday approached I noticed that Gwyneth’s mood improved, as if in some way my reaching this age had cheered her up. I was glad to see her a lot happier and we chatted long into the night about silly stuff and our family. She was telling me that at the moment she had a sort of ‘writer’s block’ (which after all she’d been through I could understand) and that she was glad she had her ‘little brother’ to keep her company through this trying time. I felt sorry for her having to go through all that but was pleased that I was there and in some way help. Perhaps my parents hadn’t been quite as selfish as I’d thought in not letting me stay at home on my own.

The guys at work had bought me celebratory cake for my birthday, which we wolfed down in our lunch break. I received a card signed by them all and also received a load of pats on the back and ‘well dones’ throughout the day. You’re probably wondering why I wasn’t out with my friends or girlfriend, well, I don’t have that many friends and most girls are only interested in a guy with a car and I didn’t fall into that particular category. When I got home the mailman had been but I got not so much as a card from mom and dad. I suppose they were too busy but you’d think… wouldn’t you? Thankfully, Gwyneth had remembered and not only got me a card but a present.

*

It was the biggest teddy bear I’d ever seen. It was slightly bigger than me and had this huge blue bow around its neck just like Teddy had. At first I thought ‘what a stupid gift’ but then I remembered our conversation from a few days previously and, ever thoughtful, she had actually bought me something she thought I’d love. As I stroked his soft fleecy bulk (yes I named him Teddy as I’m that imaginative), his glassy eyes and stitched on smile won me over and I couldn’t stop cuddling him… he was so soft and… wonderful. Gwyneth was delighted that I was happy and we sat and had a meal that she had specially prepared. She even offered me a glass of a rather nice chilled white wine, which for once didn’t taste of warm sour apples like I’d had in the past, although I really wasn’t much of a drinker.

After two rather large glasses I was quite giggly and Gwyneth was very entertaining. She took a few photographs on her phone of me and Teddy cuddling and kissing (yes I know but I’d had a couple of drinks) and she thought how delightful we both looked. Then she said she had an idea and wondered if I’d be up for a dare. I wasn’t sure where this was going but, with my inhibitions loosened by the wine, nodded and she suggested we recreate that image of me of when I was one year old.

*

I laughed out loud. She laughed along with me and then said that perhaps, we should ask Teddy?

“OK Teddy, you huge cuddlesome beast,” she giggled like she was a seven year-old, “should Benjy…”

Now I giggled like a toddler as I looked into Teddy’s eyes half expecting him to actually reply. His huge furry face and soft welcoming body oozed love and friendliness… this was a Teddy who would always be there for you… for me… and would never steer me wrong.

“… should Benjy accept the dare?” She nodded then looked at me who was watching her and then looked back at Teddy.

Suddenly she leapt up and gave a little shout “There,” she said emphatically, “he just nodded.”

I looked back at Teddy and there was no doubt that his smile appeared to have got broader (though this might be down to the influence of alcohol on my brain) and he was nodding (again this might have been down to my sister pushing him with an unseen hand), either way, it was conclusive. Teddy wanted me to re-enact my photo.

*

I started cuddling him but Gwyneth said that I had to change first. I wasn’t too sure what she meant but she told me to follow her to her room.

“OK, let’s do this correctly,” she slurred slightly, “We need you dressed properly.”

I wasn’t sure what was about to happen but I was enjoying the silliness of the situation so went along with it.

“Take off your clothes,” she waved her hand in the direction of them, “and lay down on my bed.”

I was a little bit shocked at the suggestion but it was my sister and she wouldn’t be seeing anything she hadn’t seen thousands of times before, which she reminded me of as I slowly pulled off my shirt and dropped my jeans.

“Yesshh, and your boxers,” she went off in search of something in the bathroom.

Reluctantly, I slid them to the floor and then playfully kicked them off. They landed on a lampshade, which immediately made me start to giggle even more. “Now I’m an accurate kicker,” I half grumbled to myself. “Why wasn’t I that good when I played soccer and there were other people around?”

*

I lay out naked on the soft, feather-filled, cream and blue duvet that covered her bed and awaited her return; my bare dick not displaying any of its usual feistiness like it often did when it came to being free of clothing. I stroked it a couple of times but thankfully it wasn’t playing and at that point Gwyneth arrived back in the room carrying a thick towel and I guilty let go of my prized ‘toy’.

“I’ll get you something else to play with later,” she mocked as she pretended to slap away my hand.

I realised what she was going to do and thought “Why not go all the way?” so let her fold it into shape and slip it under my bum… although before pinning it into place she sprinkled some baby powder all over me.

“Now you even smell the part,” she was smiling and that had me responding in the same way as I quite like the smell of talcum powder.

Nakedness between us has never been a problem. Nudity was never shameful in our family and it was just ‘normal’ that we wondered from bedroom to bathroom naked as it was wearing something. As we grew up we didn’t hide ourselves from each other so it was really no big deal for her to see my genitals, though perhaps not so close up. Even though she hadn’t lived at home for a couple of years now I wasn’t bothered as she rubbed the powder in and then tightly pulled the towel up between my legs and pinned it into place.

She pulled me to my feet and let me look at myself in the mirror. I was amazed at how thick the towel fashioned as a diaper appeared but, and I have to hand this to my sister, it looked exactly like the one I was wearing as a baby all those years ago.

She was smiling. “Let’s go show it off to Teddy… see what he thinks off his little friend… his little Benjy.”

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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PARENT’S COMFORT

PARENT'S COMFORTOrder by xcliber

Draw by LilChu

Source: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/31045852/

Yes some thing sure newer change like the comfort of your favorite plush and the cozy of your parents lap.

Bath at lest he have some sweet and nice dreams now.

The only thing that is missing now is a pacifier and a thick night diaper.

(Visited 88 times, 1 visits today)

Don’t want to be big

Don't want to be bigDraw and everything by Charry

Source: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/30848243/

Aww way should you be a big boy? I love my little baby boy they way he is :)

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Tuckered Out

Tuckered OutGood thing dad packed the stroller and protection for these two. Long lines and a fun filled day seems to finally worn these two out. Now it’s back to the hotel for baths and maybe an early bedtime after some dinner.

Order and above text by Island

Draw by Blankie

Source: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/30839016/

Yes i sure bet that they are weary sleepy right now from all the ruining around and fun things at the amusement park :)

I sure bet this was allot of fun for them and it sure is good that there dad remember and think about to pack some things in case this happen.

Now they dont need to worry about waking up whit wet cloths if they end up whit a accident during there sleep.

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Ricky’s plushy cuddle

Ricky's plushy cuddleLooks like Ricky also enjoys his plushies in his spare time :3

Ricky belongs to pichuboy

Draw and above by pichu90

Source: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/30665791/

Ricky sure seems to have one cozy time here whit his Pikachu plush :)

They both seems to have a awesome and good time together :)

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Playing with Plushies

Playing with Plushies

What does Sparks’ do other than battling, adventuring and munching on sweets? He plays with his plushie collection!

Here he’s sharing them with Tails the pikachu along with Jolts (dedenne) and Ember (fennekin). Both have slightly changed designs since the first time I’ve drawn them.

Helps relieve stress from all that battling :D

Draw and everything by pichu90

Source: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/30555397/

Looks like they all having a fun relaxing time playing whit there plushy`s :)

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A Sissy and her Plushie

A Sissy and her PlushieCrinkle crinkle squish squish.

Art © takottah

Coren and above text by Coren

Source: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/30286717/

What a good kitten we have here :) Yes let your diaper handle your potty needs your have more imported thing to do now like giving your red panda plush a big and nice hug :)

It sure is allot important that your plush receive allot of hugs :)

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Auntie Joan Part 2

This story is written by Les Lea

I had a fitful night’s sleep; the same dream kept occurring time and time again.
I was uncomfortable because my diaper had become bunched up and annoying. In my dream I kept trying to pull it down and rearrange it but my tiny hands couldn’t actually grasp anything because of the covering thick glossy plastic pants. I became frustrated and grumpy and began to cry. Auntie came in, soothed away the tears and in her gentle embrace the diaper didn’t seem to be a problem so I could relax. Strangely enough I managed to slip into the crook of her arm like I was just a baby.
To help settle even more she handed over a teddy bear, which was wonderful to touch so I cuddled that, as she cuddled me, and eventually we all dropped off together. However, sometime later the exact same dream would occur and I’d begin to feel irritable and try to lose the diaper all over again, and with the same outcome. It was no surprise then when I did awake (I think it was the sound of the rail being unclicked and eased down) to see Auntie Joan beaming down at me.

“Hello sweetie, hope you slept well, I didn’t hear a peep out of you all night so I reckon somebody needed his sleep.”
It was wonderful waking up to a smiling, friendly face and as I yawned and stretched myself into wakefulness, she drew back the blinds to reveal a lovely sunny morning.
I lay under the warm duvet feeling happy and that was a feeling I hadn’t woken up to for such a long time.
“Now sweetie, don’t take this the wrong way,” she raised her eyebrows in a most comical way, “but are you wet?”

I was smiling myself and shook my head at first but then became aware of just exactly what I was wearing. Up until that moment I’d completely forgotten that I’d been put in a diaper the night before. However, I didn’t feel wet like I had when at school or more recently at home. Nevertheless, as I gave it some thought and ran my hand over the bulge at my groin I realised that it was definitely bigger and smoother under my, er, what was that, I touched the metal snaps under my crotch, a onesie?, that I must have done something.
I made a face, which I hoped looked like I wasn’t actually admitting to anything but also that I might have done.
She said, “Well it doesn’t matter we can sort it out later.”
She pulled back my cover to reveal my bulky groin.

“Let’s have some breakfast and then we’ll decide what to do for the rest of the day.”
The room was already warming up because it looked and felt like it was going to be another glorious sunny, hot Kansas day. My pale (English) bare legs stuck out from this huge swelling diaper but, and I strangely found it reassuring, there was no tell-tale stain on my blue onesie, whatever I’d done was all contained.

#

My undignified waddle down stairs and into the kitchen was a little disturbing, well, disturbing in a way I wasn’t quite expecting because I simply didn’t mind. Auntie had dressed me appropriately for bed just in case I wet, and now that I knew I had, I thought how brilliant it was that she’d had such foresight to know precisely what was needed for my comfort. I loved my auntie even more at that moment; she was interested in me and cared. So, as we sat and ate breakfast, with me perched on top of a very thick diaper; I wondered what other surprises this woman had up her sleeve.
I asked why she and my father had not been on speaking terms for so long and it was the first time I saw her radiant smile fail.
“Well you’ve asked, so I’m going to tell you but I’m not sure you’ll understand my reaction.”

A shiver of worry slipped down my spine as I wondered if I’d crossed a line and so quickly ruined something that had seemed so wonderful.
“Bill, your Uncle Bill, who I doubt you’ll remember, was on his way to an interview that your father had set up.”
I sat nervously waiting for the story to unravel and I began to wish I’d never asked. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to know, I was just worried things would change between me and Auntie Joan.
“It was a job I’d begged Bill not to pursue but your father, my big brother, had taken it upon himself to push Bill into at least going for an interview.”
She looked over at me to see how I was reacting.

“Unfortunately, on the freeway to Kansas City a fuel truck spun out of control, off the highway and across into oncoming traffic. The truck exploded and took out another truck and four cars travelling in the opposite direction. All the occupants, including my husband were consumed in the fireball…”
She gulped back tears and I swallowed hard as another shudder passed through my body. It was weird that I felt more sympathy for man I didn’t remember dying in such a dramatic and awful manner than I did with my own parents. This was not the story I’d expected and was desperately sorry I’d made auntie relive the experience. I wanted to comfort her. I got up and shuffled round until I had my hands on her shoulders and I could feel her body shaking with grief.
“Ohh, I’m so sorry.” I muttered in a whisper. “I didn’t mean to…”

My words seemed stupid and useless at that moment so I just continued stroking her shoulder and offering my chest for her to weep into.
After a few seconds she calmed herself and continued.

“I’d begged Bill not to go and more importantly, to me at the time, I’d begged your father to keep out of our affairs. I know he thought he was trying to help but, I’d already told him I didn’t want Bill working for the government, and I certainly didn’t want to move to Kansas City had he got the job. But my brother, as always, knew best and was so controlling.”
She reached up and gently touched my hand.

“I don’t know if you remember, but you, you were about three then, your mom and dad came to the funeral…”
I did have a vague recollection of travelling somewhere but thought it was a party of some kind. I’d forgotten that I’d actually, very briefly, visited this town before.
“Henry, your dad, was most apologetic because I hadn’t known exactly how hard he’d pushed Bill into accepting the interview. Once I did we had an enormous row… and I told him and your mother… that I blamed them completely for interfering in our life. As a result I ordered them, and that included an innocent toddler… you… to get out and that I never wanted to see any of you again.”

#

I was crying in sympathy for my aunt’s loss and I remembered how ‘domineering’ my father always was. I could imagine him pressuring someone else into accepting his decision so I hugged my aunt and we sobbed together.

Eventually she came up for air and finished her account.
“I wasn’t going to come to their funeral, even after all this time I was still so bitter about it, but the man who came to tell me what had happened in Mumbai also told me about you and that, as your only real family member, they hoped I’d take care of you.”
She looked me in the eye and told me straight.

“To be honest… I wasn’t sure… but when I met you I couldn’t get over what a wonderful boy you were. Even though you were detached from the entire ceremony I detected an inner vulnerability I just couldn’t ignore. After we’d spoken, and I got the impression of your own thoughts about your parents, I desperately wanted to take you away from people I reckoned didn’t understand you. I detected a lot of built up anger… just like me… and I knew we needed each other to, well, start again”
She added almost apologetically.

“I’ve never had kids of my own, Bill and I never got around to it but I’ve immersed myself in Rainbow. I love children, I offer them a safe place to grow and play, so why on earth would I turn my back on my own flesh and blood?”
She hugged me tightly.

“I wanted desperately to look after you and give you what your parents failed to deliver, a loving and supportive environment in which to grow.”
She held me at arm’s length, this was getting very intense and I wasn’t sure I could cope with it all.
“However, I wonder if I’m too late. I see the rage you have kept bottled within and the upset at the childhood I think you feel you’ve lost, would you trust someone else? I wasn’t sure until I saw your reaction to the nursery and how keen and desperate you were to find some comfort in such a simple place.”
She smiled through her red, tear stained eyes.

“You looked the same as any child I’ve had at the nursery… happy to be in a place where you are supposed to be safe and have fun.”
I couldn’t say anything because she was correct. That room had made me feel safe. All I wanted to do was stay there and sleep because I knew it was a room where I could feel happy and content. Even the pile of diapers and the smell of baby powder hanging in the air were offering me a feeling of, of, joy and satisfaction. But it was the sensation of pure euphoria I experienced as auntie diapered and put me to bed, that just added the final dimension to my feeling of being home.
She thought for a few seconds.

“How would you feel if I could give you back some aspects of your childhood?”
I didn’t know what to say to that but oddly a spurt of pee escaped into my sodden nappy. I was more aware of the fact that I was dressed as a toddler already and wondered if that was what she meant.

“Do you mean, er, all this?”
I indicated what I was wearing.
“Do you want me to be a baby?” I asked with more than a touch of disbelief.
She held my hand tightly.

“That would be up to you but what I can offer is a place for you to learn to be a kid again. To play, make friends, laugh, cry… but all in your own time. “
She seemed convinced she could make this happen even if I was unsure.
“The offer is there should it be something you feel you’d like to at least try?”
My head was buzzing with mixed emotions. How could I possibly be a toddler again, it just didn’t make sense? You can’t go backwards, the school in the UK, even though it was stuck in some kind of time warp itself, was very progressive in its teaching methods.

“We are constantly moving forwards, we need to make the future our priority.”
I could almost hear Mr Cartwright’s lesson, he was all about developing strategies for the betterment of man.
“We learn the lessons of the past but we march into a future we help create.”

He was one of the few teachers that I had any time for but… well… it wasn’t what I needed at that particular moment.
Wondering if I could live my childhood all over again seemed a foolish notion even if I was sitting in a wet diaper. I was nearly fourteen for heaven’s sake and worldly wise in so many ways. Besides, wouldn’t I be required to go to school in my new home town?

#

There’s no doubt about it, Kansas is hot this time of year. Even though we were indoors the heat of the day was already quite oppressive as I wondered back upstairs. I entered my bedroom and again the packing cases and literally unmade bed sent a shiver of apprehension down my spine. I went over to where I’d slept the night and the calming atmosphere of the place, or maybe it was the smell, but something immediately made me feel at ease. I was standing in a soaked diaper and a tight-fitting onesie but yet felt at peace, even more so, when I wondered over to the Disney bed I’d slept in and hugged the teddy that comforted me throughout the night. There was something about this room that I didn’t understand. Why was I drawn here and why was I so happy to be in a place where a baby would normally sleep? I was perplexed.

Auntie had of course followed me and gently asked if I needed help changing. It was weird that whilst in that room, that was precisely what I needed. Auntie took my silence as acquiescence and immediately came over and began to un-pop the studs around my crotch. She lifted the soft onesie over my head (which tickled and I let out a very childish giggle) and then eased my plastic pants over the thick diaper and down my legs, making me lift them one at a time as she pulled them off. I was just transfixed at the gentle way she went about her business, very obviously in control but with a touch that spoke to me more than words alone could do. The retaining tabs were broken and my sopping diaper was lightly guided away as auntie held it so as not to mess anything else. She tapped my bottom and headed me to the shower.

As I wriggled under the warm jets, enjoying the soft massage they offered, I gave more thought to auntie’s offer. I wasn’t sure what exactly it would entail but I knew for definite that I liked, no, make that LOVED, what auntie had said and done so far. In just a few days she had gained my confidence and I was more than happy to go along with any and all her suggestions because even then, I knew she would not steer me into doing something I disliked. I trusted my auntie completely and that was something I’d never done with anyone else.

#

I wrapped a towel around myself and headed for my shambolic bedroom where all the boxes with my clothes in were. I arrived in the doorway full of dread at having to eventually sort it all out when I heard auntie call me from the nursery.
“Dean baby, come here for a moment please.”
She stood at the side of the low bed, which she’d already remade (although I suppose just straightening a sheet and duvet wasn’t going to take long) and indicated that she’d got my clothes ready for the day.

“I hope you don’t mind but I thought these would be appropriate for the day as they are loose and light and I think you’ll feel more comfortable wearing them in our…” she said it with a huge grin as if she was a travel spokesperson for The Kansas Tourist Board, “welcoming heat?”
I laughed and shrugged, at least it saved me time rummaging around in various boxes trying to find what was where.
“Now then sweetie, a bit of a decision time.”
I looked at her with a slight scowl wondering why she was making me make a decision at all; she’d done pretty well so far.
She held up a pair of my white CK trunks.
“These,” she said wafting them around for a couple of seconds, “or these?”
In her other hand she held up a fresh clean disposable.

#

I was dumbfounded. I’d happily slept in the disposable but I wasn’t sure I would feel comfortable wearing a diaper during the day, when I was out in public, I mean, what would people think?
I voiced these concerns as I wrapped the towel more tightly around my body, wishing I really didn’t have to make up my mind.
“OK Dean, how about this? Today you wear your pants, but tonight you’ll wear these.”
She waved the disposable at me.

“In the morning I’ll ask you again and then you’ll make a decision and we’ll go with that. OK?”
I nodded my agreement but she still indicated for me to lie out on the bed.
“Look you’ve spent the night in a damp diaper so I think you still need some lotion and powder to prevent getting a rash.”
I could see the sense in what she was saying so, without any reluctance, I dropped my towel and lay out. As she set about rubbing in some rather nice oil she mentioned that if I was going to be wearing diapers regularly I might have to think, for hygiene reasons, to lose the pubic hair I was now sprouting in abundance.
She smiled as she said this and I was so enthralled by her slippery fingers coating my genitals I put up no resistance and murmured my agreement. I wasn’t really thinking just happy in the moment as my lower body enjoyed a sensation it had never experienced before. I know some of the boys at school had ‘experimented’ in such a way but I suppose my fierce and unfriendly attitude had precluded me from such ‘games’.

Once she had finished I was sporting a boner which she just flicked, smiled and mumbled something about “Oh you boys” before pulling up my white trunks. I was a little sad it ended there and then a sudden feeling of horror rippled through my body as I thought how disgusting I must be to have thought my auntie was going to ‘finish me off’. I could see and feel my entire body glow with the red of shame.

However, auntie seemed unconcerned about my sordid body and handed me a pair of soft khaki cotton twill shorts and a white t-shirt. I was so ashamed I hurriedly pulled up the shorts and got myself in a tangle as I tried to put my head through the arm hole of my t-shirt. To say I was embarrassed would be the least I was feeling but auntie checked me out and said what a smart boy I was and suggested she show me the Rainbow Rooms Nursery, which wasn’t very far away.

#

The shorts I wore was a pair that I’d stopped wearing because I thought they were too short but, with the sun bearing down, I appreciated that auntie had given me a chance against the heat. Besides that, I really wanted to get my legs a better colour than the pale white pallid hue they’d become thanks to the British climate. We walked less than two hundred yards down the road and around a corner to auntie’s business.

The Rainbow Rooms Nursery was in a low, single story building, which had been specially constructed for Auntie Joan quite a number of years earlier and had become something of a mainstay and useful edition to the facilities of the area. Auntie told me that she was always busy and could have expanded to twice the size and still filled the place had she wanted to. However, building regulations and practicalities meant she knew what was manageable and liked what she had. Kids she’d looked after before were now bringing their children for her to look after and liked the friendliness and continuity she was able to offer.

Because it was the weekend there were no children in the place and as she showed me around I began to get that same feeling I’d had when I first went into the bedroom nursery, a feeling of calm and pleasure. It had the same atmosphere of sweet smelling powder and… babies. There were shelves of books, activity areas, toys nicely stacked in huge clear boxes or hanging on the walls held together by nets. Bigger toys, which the kids could ride, were dotted around the main room, whilst the walls were decorated with the alphabet, numbers and joyful furry animals with balloons of speech coming out of their mouths. “Be nice”, “Think of others”, “Have fun”, “Joey the Giraffe says: Let’s grow together” and other such sweet sayings. In my head I could almost ‘see’ the children playing and wondered if their carefree essence now permeated the entire building? In another, quiet room, there were a host of little mats laid out on the floor for after lunch naptime. Again I almost caught myself curling up and settling down for an afternoon nap, well, in my mind at least.

#

Auntie said that the number of kids who wet themselves when they were napping is incredible so they were always at their busiest straight after they had all woken up. The queue for a diaper change was long but efficiently handled by her and the staff. She smiled as she showed me the changing area with its piles of diapers and stuff, not dissimilar to the one back home in the third bedroom. Outside there were other activities like a Jungle Gym with slides and climbing frames, swings and all manner of fun things for kids to enjoy. There were toys and objects available for smaller kids, babies, who could sit in a huge playpen and safely play away from the older, more energetic, members of the group.
I was impressed. The whole ambience of the place was uplifting and I could see why auntie had chosen this as her business. I couldn’t think of anything more rewarding than to watch and encourage little kids to play and grow, have fun and enjoy life.
God how I wished I could have had all that.

#

From ‘The Rainbow’ we picked up auntie’s car and drove into town where she showed me around. The centre wasn’t massive but seemed nice and to have all the stores, restaurants and other necessities a place this size needed. We parked up and went for lunch in the main mall. I was surprised just how well known auntie was. Almost everyone nodded and smiled as we passed.
“Hi Miss Marsden” was followed by a nervous giggle from both boys and girls, whilst “Good Morning Joan” was followed by a little bit of gossip from the grown-ups. I was introduced to a few of her friends but without the history lesson, I didn’t want them to feel sorry for the poor kid who’d just lost his parents to terrorists. As it was she introduced me as her nephew who was now living with her but without any further explanation. That left a few people with bemused looks on their faces and you could see they desperately wanted to know more about this ‘mysterious youth’. I think auntie was enjoying keeping the full story to herself and watching the features on some straining for more facts.

#

We had, what I can honestly say, was the best pizza I’d ever had. In the UK I was never overly happy with what they described as pizza, and although I loved the ones our cook in DC made, this was by far superior. I was delighted to sit in that air-conditioned paradise and stuff my face, whilst sucking up gallons of soda, until my belly felt fit to burst. Auntie Joan gave the impression she was pleased that I’d got at least some of my appetite back and encouraged me to finish off with a huge ice cream sundae. I was in heaven.
After lunch, as we walked around, I appreciated even more the lightweight outfit that auntie had chosen for me to wear. It felt nice as air circulated with each step, which gave a very pleasant feeling around my groin.

We went to a store to buy new bedding for my ‘proper’ room but for some reason all the styles I liked were particularly childish. Auntie didn’t seem perturbed by my choice.
“It’s you who’ll be sleeping in them so… the choice is yours.”

She wasn’t that bothered either when I chose a particular fleecy looking blanket that, in my mind at least, I hoped would settle me down on a night as I hugged something so soft and gentle. She did point out that we had plenty of similar items already back at the house but understood why I might want my own.

#

We went to a couple of clothes stores because she thought I might need a completely different set of fashionable items to fit in with the ‘locals’ and to suit the extreme weather. However, I’d stupidly been holding in my desperate desire for a pee. My bloated bladder was calling out for release but I held on hoping that I could last until we finished shopping before I needed to go. Alas, a sudden pain shot from my bladder to the end of my dripping cock and forced me to rush off to find a toilet. Unfortunately, it was out of order, and the one thing I was keen to avoid in public… happened.

What started as a small dark stain suddenly erupted into a huge ever-growing splurge as I couldn’t control the flow. My CK trunks did the best they could but they were no defence from the torrent that suddenly decided to gush forth. I was both embarrassed and terrified as I bent over to try and hide the developing accident and the yellowing trickle down my legs and onto the floor. Thankfully, auntie saw the situation arising so was already guiding me out to the car and soon we were safely on our way home. I could hardly speak I was so humiliated at what had happened and just hoped that I hadn’t shamed auntie.
She seemed completely unconcerned about the fact that I’d wet myself but more bothered about my feelings.
‘Was I OK?’

‘I wasn’t to worry; we’d soon be home where she’d sort me out.’
I was in tears.

I felt guilty about sitting on her car seats, the front of my khaki shorts now dark and damp, but she told me I shouldn’t worry it was easy to wipe clean. As my blubbing quietened I simply felt uncomfortable (and stupid) wearing my soaked pants. At the back of my mind I couldn’t help but think that this wouldn’t have happened if I’d worn a diaper, or if it had, I wouldn’t look like I did… a big wet baby.

Once home I quickly ran upstairs casting off my wet pants as I went and threw myself down on the Disney bed feeling self-conscious and silly. However, auntie came in and applied baby wipes to clean me up. The sweet scent filling my nostrils and making me feel at peace again. Once more she offered me a choice of briefs or diaper. This time I accepted the diaper. She powdered and taped me tightly in and then without asking slipped up a pair of thick blue vinyl pants to keep it all contained. She then disappeared into my room and returned with my navy blue shorts and guided me into them. It wasn’t that I was too numb to do this for myself it was just nice that auntie was there to help.

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 1

Chapter 3

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