Looks like everyone have a relaxing and fun time together :)
I only hope that everyone have some nice dreams :)
Looks like everyone have a relaxing and fun time together :)
I only hope that everyone have some nice dreams :)
This story is written by Les Lea
It was another hot summer’s lunchtime and my new friend Kenneth Morrison and I walked up to the playing fields to lie in the sun. School was only a few yards away but up amongst the grassy sports area you felt like you were miles away. Other kids were there; some playing soccer, catch or just messing around, whilst others read books or relaxed in the mid-day heat. Kenneth and I found an empty area by the long jump sand pit and settled ourselves down to an hours worth of sunbathing before the lunch-break was finished and we had to return to our classes – the prospect of a sweaty afternoon in the classroom not making us want to hurry back anyway.
Kenneth was ten, the same age as me, and about my size, though he was blond to my dark. His white blond hair, fair complexion and blue eyes set him out as “different” to the rest of us. He had the knack of looking clean, poised and elegant even in his school uniform, whilst everyone else just looked like a bunch of untidy kids. He was my only real friend at school, for some reason I was reticent about making any new ones, but I did like being in his company; he was funny, generous and madly attractive.
Mum had been promoted and with that came relocation to another part of the country. Mum, me and my younger brother Jake had packed up all our worldly possessions and moved west but it seemed like another world. The bank mum worked for was the same, I suppose they’re the same everywhere but the school we were sent to was completely different. I was used to a relaxed approach – wearing jeans and a sweater, you know, normal clothes but at this one, we had to wear a strict uniform; maroon blazer, grey shorts, grey knee-length socks, school tie… it was the complete opposite to back home. School itself was more organised as well and it took a bit of adjusting to on my part.
Jake, being 8, didn’t seem to have any trouble adapting, while I was very self-conscious on my first day about wearing schoolboy grey shorts and, standing in front of the class while being introduced was, even though we were all dressed the same, embarrassing.
“This is Simon Hudson,” the teacher Miss Pendle told the 20 other boys sat looking straight at me, “he’s just moved to join us here at Oakland and I’d like you all to make him feel welcome.”
A chorus of “Hello Simon” followed and I smiled a very nervous smile. However, Kenny stood out even then; his white blond hair and a face that seemed to radiate a permanent smile set him apart from the others, whilst the slight wave of his hand in welcome seemed genuine and unlike anyone else. I sat feeling very anxious for the rest of the day but it was Kenny who made the first move to come and say ‘Hello’ personally and that was how we became friends.
After lying in the sun for a few minutes Kenny declared it was too hot and quickly whipped off his school tie and shirt. His pale tight chest looked like it could do with some sun, although there wasn’t an ounce of fat on his taut, boyish frame. I struggled with my tie and as I was doing so Kenny unbuttoned his grey school shorts and peeled them open a little. I was flabbergasted. Not because I was seeing him being so bold on the playing field – I had seen him naked many times before because we swam, did gym and played soccer together – no, it was because he was wearing a disposable diaper.
Actually, the top of his diaper was showing over a very tight pair of semi-transparent plastic pants and it was those which I saw first.
“Erm… do you wear diapers?” I asked the most obvious question as I sat gawping at what was before me.
“These are a new type mum bought,” he paused to run his fingers around the top, “they’re a bit larger than the ones she usually gets.”
I was confused as I’d never seen him wearing anything like them before and it was only now I was aware of their presence that I noticed the slight bulkiness to his shorts.
“Usually? Do you wear them regularly?”
“No not often… just if I have an accident at night and I wet the bed.” He said all this so matter-of-factly that instead of being shocked I was interested in what he had to say.
“Sometimes I pee myself… or worse,” he looked up at me to make sure I understood. I nodded. “I don’t know why I occasionally do but… I do.”
He paused again but this time he wasn’t looking straight at me he was looking down at his diaper.
“If I wet the bed, it has been known for me to wet myself at other times so…”
Now he looked into my eyes and waited for a reaction. I didn’t know what to say so he continued.
“Mummy, she’s a nurse,” I suppose he thought that explained quite a lot, “makes me wear a diaper to be on the safe side.”
“Is she punishing you?” I asked naively.
“Protection she calls it but I suppose there may be a bit of punishment in there as well… it’s been happening since I was a little kid so…. I’m used to it now.”
“Do the other kids know?”
“Some do… but as I’ve grown up with most of them… there’s not much they don’t know about me.”
He saw my unbelieving look because I knew, back at my old school, a boy his age wearing diapers… and plastic pants… would be ridiculed every minute of every day.
He continued, “I don’t have to wear them all the time, just if I have a ‘bed-wetting incident’.”
He said ‘bed-wetting incident’ as if he’d learned it off by heart as some kind of medical term for what happened.
“The plastic pants are to protect my other clothes, my shorts,” he pointed to them as if in explanation.
“Sometimes my involuntary wetting happens over a period of days… so… I have to wear these until mummy thinks it’s safe for me to go back into my usual underwear.”
“Do you mind? Does it feel strange?”
I just couldn’t quite comprehend what Kenny was going through or why he allowed himself to be put into diapers but I didn’t mention that at the time I was still curious.
“How much longer will you be in them?”
“Don’t know. If I’m dry for a couple of days… and nights… then she will decide but…” he looked me straight in the eyes again. “I really don’t mind… wearing a diaper is no different from wearing anything else.”
I’m not sure I agreed with him on that because, until that moment, I had never seen anyone, except my baby brother, wearing diapers outside. This was a first and a very unusual first at that. I was transfixed by the sight and by Kenny’s frankness. It obviously didn’t worry or upset him in the slightest and if the other kids knew, it had long since been of any interest to them. I just looked at him. No, that’s a lie, I actually just stared at Kenneth’s crotch and the strangely hypnotising diaper and smooth plastic pants that surrounded it.
“You like them?”
Kenneth asked and I must have nodded my response as I gazed disbelievingly at this unexpected revelation. He rolled over onto his stomach, pulled his shorts down a little further and the plastic pants, stretching over the slightly hidden diaper underneath, emphasised his shapely young bum. He ran his hands over them and kept saying how nice they felt to wear.
“Can I feel them?” I nervously asked.
“Of course,” he replied as if it was the most natural request in the world.
I tentatively ran my hand over the tight slippery material, caressing his tight young buns but not really thinking about that in a sexual manner, only to appreciate the feel of that protected area.
He turned over and I kept stroking the padded material, it felt warm, and soft, and exciting. My fingers gently slipped inside the waistband… and for me at least, the weather seemed to raise several degrees. I looked up but Kenneth’s eyes were closed… he seemed to be enjoying the sensation of my touch. I figured that if he wasn’t bothered then why should I as I delighted in tracing my fingers across the thickness of the smooth, shiny material.
The following day I noticed that the slight bulge in his shorts had disappeared and I asked if he was now out of his daytime protection. He nodded and for some reason, I felt a bit disappointed. I had become fascinated with Kenny’s problem and of course the fact that, as a result, he wore diapers and plastic pants, I wanted to know… and see… more but the opportunity to bring up the subject appeared to have passed. In gym he changed and was wearing the same style of briefs as the rest of the boys in the class and again I felt really disillusioned. I wanted to see my friend in his ‘protection’ and maybe learn a bit more. Perhaps feel them again because the night before… that was all I could think about as I fell asleep.
At lunchtime it was still hot and I suggested we go back to our sunbathing spot up on the playing fields. He agreed and as we ate our sandwiches I tentatively broached the subject of his diapers. I was worried in case he thought I was being too nosey but he didn’t seem to mind my questions. Again he answered everything I asked.
No, the doctor didn’t know why he wet.
Yes, he slept in them.
No, he didn’t mess on purpose.
Yes, his mum used to diaper him when he wore cloth diapers, but now he uses disposable ones he puts them on himself.
No, he isn’t afraid of what people might say.
Yes, he liked to wear them.
I was surprised that he admitted to that, so I wanted to know why. He said because he liked his parents making a fuss, he liked the bulkiness between his legs and he liked the way it made him feel. Safe.
Like him I was ten years-old but I’d never thought of anything the way he seemed to do and I think I was a little jealous of his experiences.
Mum was keen that Jake and I should make friends so, after a few weeks, I asked if Kenny could sleepover one night… she was delighted. On the Thursday I asked him if he’d like to come to my place to play and perhaps stay over for the night. He thought that would be a terrific idea but had better check with his parents first. A call from his mum to mine confirmed it and after school on Friday he went home to pack a few things before being delivered to us by his fire-fighter dad.
Mr Morrison was a tall, energetic, muscular man who, like his son, was all smiles when I and my family met him for the first time. As Kenny jumped from the car he was already shaking hands with my mum, ruffling Jake’s hair and on his way to say ‘hello’ to me. He was a bundle of energy and compliments as he steered his son towards us. As we boys went into the house he stood chatting to my mum for a few minutes before he waved his goodbyes, and disappeared back down the road.
Kenny had brought with him a backpack and a sleeping bag, which seemed a lot for an overnight stay. I was more than prepared for us to share my bed but… I hadn’t thought he might not want that. He dumped his stuff in my room, Jake and I had a room each, though my brother often came to join me in mine. In fact, ever since he was a toddler, Jake had been scared of thunder and lightning and had often found comfort with me at these distressing times. As the older brother I had to calm him, even though I was a bit scared of it all myself. My job was to look after my little brother and if he needed someone to cling onto when he was terrified, I was happy to do that for him. Besides, and I never admitted it to him, but his warm little body snuggling against mine as he slept was alleviating my fears as well.
My mum had said that we couldn’t exclude Jake and if he wanted to he had to be allowed to play with us. As Kenny was an only child it was something new for him to be involved in the way brothers interact with each other so, I was glad that he was happy for Jake to be included.
We almost wore ourselves out playing in the fields behind the house and as the shadows got longer we came in for food and to watch TV. Later, we were playing a board game in my room when mum shouted that it was time to get ready for bed. It was well past the time that Jake usually had to be in bed by but, because of our guest, he was allowed to stay up that little bit later. On mum’s orders he went back to his own room to get ready for bed. He used the bathroom first and then went to put his PJs on. Meanwhile, Kenny had spread out his sleeping bag on the floor next to my bed. I suggested he didn’t need that as I was happy to share my bed if he wanted. He looked at me a bit sheepishly and said that he didn’t think I’d want him in with me in case he wet again. But he opened his backpack and retrieved a disposable diaper and a pair of pink plastic pants and waved them at me.
“However,” he smiled, “I have come prepared… so it shouldn’t be a problem.”
I noticed that he had more than one disposable in his backpack and suggested that, if he liked the idea, that perhaps, I should also get diapered up… that way, we’d be doubly protected. He smiled knowingly but added he thought that it was a great idea… if I wanted to. I think this is what he’d hoped for all along and I knew, despite my self-denial, that this was also what I was hoping would happen. He handed me a disposable and a pair of clear plastic pants and said that he hoped that they would fit OK. We were both the same size so I had no doubt that they would and I was eager to get started. We went off to wash and clean our teeth together and then, once back in my room, we began to strip our clothes off. A brief knock on the door and mum came in to make sure we were both getting ready for bed but at that moment we were both stood in our underwear.
“Muuumm,” I moaned, “can’t we have any privacy?”
“Sorry son, sorry Kenneth,” she paused, “just your mum said you might need…” She looked at Kenny who, realising his mum must have told my mum about his problem said:
“It’s OK Mrs Hudson… thank you… but I can do it all myself.
Mum took the message and didn’t pursue it any further: “OK then boys, if you’re sure. You can play your games for a little while longer but try not to make a noise… I don’t want Jake disturbed.”
“Yes mum, we’ll be quiet.” With that she shut the door and I could hear her go down stairs to watch some TV of her own.
Kenny pulled off his underpants and stood there naked in front of me. He wasn’t in the least bit embarrassed and although I’d seen him naked in the showers at school, this was unnervingly intimate as there was just the two of us. Like me, he had no hair on his body, although a couple of the boys in class had begun the sprout the odd tuft on a particular part of their young bodies. However, I was suddenly occupied with another image and looked on spellbound as he unravelled his disposable and laid it on the floor. He then sat his naked bum down on it, lay back and in seconds had tightly taped himself into the thing. He did all this without a moment’s hesitation and, when he stood up I was impressed as to the way it hung onto his slim hips. He looked cute. There’s no other way to describe it. His blond hair and his slim body, wrapped in a disposable diaper made him look unbelievably cute.
“OK, your turn,” he said.
I nervously pulled down my briefs, and then took the offered disposable from Kenny… although I really had no idea how to put it on. Kenny saw my confusion so came over and helped me with it. He spread it out on my bed and got me to lie out on it. He took his time as I watched him slowly pulling the thing up between my legs and making sure everything fitted me well. My best friend fitting me in a diaper felt strange but exhilarating all at the same time. He’d just fastened the tapes to make sure it was a tight and snug fit, pulled me to my feet so he could check that it didn’t droop anywhere, when the door burst open and in walked Jake.
“Good night Kenny I…” The poor little fellow looked at a loss as to what to make of the two boys he was recently playing with standing in nothing but a pair of diapers.
“And a goodnight to you Jake,” Kenny smiled at him and, not knowing what to say, I simply frozen in panic.
“I like your PJs… are those spaceships?”
He padded the short distance towards Jake who let him examine the cartoon spacemen and rockets that adorned his pale blue cotton PJs, while he himself was bug-eyed at the thick disposable in front of him.
“I could do with some like these myself… they look terrific.” Kenny continued.
Jake got his breath back and asked the most obvious question. “Why are you both wearing diapers?”
I had no idea how to answer that but Kenny was an obvious past master at such bold questions and told him, very straightforwardly, that he had a medical problem that meant that he occasionally wet the bed. This was protection so that he didn’t spoil the bedding if it happened during the night whilst he was visiting his friends. Jake looked across the short distance to me but before the next question formed on his lips Kenny got in first.
“Simon didn’t want me to feel bad about being in diapers on my own so offered to wear them as well. Isn’t that nice of him?”
Jake wasn’t sure but just sort of nodded a “Uh-uh.”
Not knowing what better to do I pulled up my plastic pants and went in search of the boxer shorts, which I usually slept in. When Jake reached out and touched Kenny’s diaper… my best friend didn’t even flinch or hide or… well I’m not sure what I expected but he handled the situation incredibly well. Once Jake had finished examining it Kenny reached down and pulled his own pink plastic pants over it and then stepped into his own pajamas. They were a plain pink color, which matched his plastic pants, which I suppose was the idea, and the padded bulge looked OK from where I was standing.
“Jake… get back into bed at once.”
Mum shouted, as she must have heard something was going on upstairs,
“Let the boys get to sleep themselves.”
Without another word Jake rushed off to his own room leaving Kenny and I to contemplate what had just happened.
“Like you,” Kenny smiled, “he’s just curious.”
I looked at my sleepover guest with renewed awe. He’d answered Jake’s questions and wore his diaper with dignity. I was feeling well impressed and, with our plastic pants rustling as we climbed into my bed, I realised I had a new respect for the diaper I was also now wearing.
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.
Vlue’s walk ended with a very big need to go potty. Thankfully her master prepared her for just such a situation.
Draw and above text by ChocolateKitsune
Yes it sure like that diaper really had a hard work here keep up whit here wetting here. Looks how match she is wetting here diaper.
Here diaper butt really seems to start looking kind of wet. She is really flooding here diaper big times here :) Good thing it seems to be able to keep up whit here :)
This story is written by Les Lea
Gwyneth filled me in on what mom and dad were up to. Mom was receiving a very prestigious award, which was why she looked so elegant, and as a result she had to extend her lecture tour for an extra couple of weeks. Dad was still in Seoul working with the Korean’s on the firm’s latest development and that had also been extended. Once mom’s tour was over she was going to join dad in Korea for a little while before returning home. Gwyneth thought dad would be away for even longer than anticipated as progress had been slow at the new overseas suppliers.
“Well Benjy, it looks like you’re going to be with me for some time… hope you don’t mind?” She ruffled my hair and kissed the top of my head.
Meanwhile, I sat and listened to her fill me in on all the news but just wished mom had told it all to me instead of hearing it second hand. I was a still a bit angry at mom rushing here, there and everywhere for everyone else… but not me… and every time I thought about it my chest heaved and I was on the verge of tears.
I know not being clever disappointed everyone but I often felt that I didn’t matter that much to my parents, even though I tried not to be… stupid. However, I was also very aware of my little shorts and no matter how I sat (or stood) my diaper could be seen both at the leg holes and above the waistband. I’m sure mom and dad would both have thought I was being just that… stupid… if they could see me now. Despite Gwyneth choosing this very childish set of clothes I couldn’t be angry with her because… at least she was here for me… looking after me… helping me… and giving me what I needed. I burst into tears again but this time in gratitude and hugged my sister tightly.
I truly loved the dressing up games that Gwyneth had arranged. I loved the diapers more than I ever thought I would but I knew it couldn’t go on this way, least of all because I was due back at work in the morning. I wasn’t particularly looking forward to returning to a life of stacking shelves and cleaning up the car park but that was my job. It felt really weird sitting there dressed as I was and thinking of grown up stuff like work and I wriggled in the comfort of my thick protection wondering if I could get away with wearing it under my green uniform.
Returning to work had never been mentioned but after playing with my truck for a little while I thought I’d better bring up the subject. Gwyneth was deep in thought and fervently typing into her laptop. I wasn’t sure if I should disturb her when she was in her creative zone but I needed her to know. I anxiously hung around the kitchen door waiting for a suitable break so I could ask my question. She looked up.
“God, you do look so damned adorable,” and she beckoned me over, “what does my little Benjy want?”
Oddly enough I hadn’t planned on exactly what to say so when she put her arm around my shoulders and looked into my eyes I was still looking for the right words. I could see she was waiting so I first asked if she had found her story yet.
She let me go, turned to the screen and said. “Yes, I think I’ve got some ideas.” She then patted my bum. “I think you are helping in such a terrific way.” She didn’t say in what way. “I like you being here. I like having my little brother around. I like… well… I like your innocent and uncomplicated approach to life.”
This wasn’t what I was expecting and it threw me a little. I was living a life she had seen for me, a life she controlled and directed, a life, yes, I had to admit, I was enjoying. I loved being ‘little’ and I loved the fact that my big sister wanted me to be happy and have no fears about… well… anything.
Eventually I plucked up the courage to ask her. “Will all this finish tomorrow when I have to go to work?”
Standing in front of Gwyneth, looking like a toddler, I bet she could hardly believe her little brother even had a job but I needed to know.
There was a moments silence before she answered. “Do you want it to?”
I could feel the comfort of my diaper hugging me tightly, the plastic pants gripping my legs, the sweet little shirt with the duckies on and my tiny little shorts all screaming the same answer at me.
What I really said was, “I don’t know. I have to work. I have to prove to mom and dad I’m not entirely useless I have to…”
She gently pulled me into her bosom and whilst one hand hugged and stroked my padded bottom the other the other stroked my hair. It was a lovely soft embrace and I could feel her love and understanding as she soothed my sudden and unexpected tears.
I felt unable to cope. I didn’t want to have to make decisions; I didn’t ever want to make decisions again. I liked it just where I was. I liked living with Gwyneth more than at home where I hardly had anyone to speak with and spent my time watching TV and going to work (more to break the boredom than anything else). My parents hardly ever chatted or encouraged me about anything much and was left to my own devices in that big house.
This ‘little’ me was fun; I wasn’t when at home. This ‘little’ me had imagination; I appeared to have none when my parents were around. This ‘little’ me could have friends; and that’s what I wanted more than anything else. I wanted my childhood back and the chance to find those happy times all over again. Gwyneth had given me this opportunity, had identified clearly something I desired and offered it with no strings attached.
Without saying anything, I just knew that Gwyneth understood this and in her gentle embrace I also knew that was exactly what she wanted for me. Strip me down and start again. She may have been surprised at the speed I took to it all but perhaps that was down to the desperate need I felt.
“Benjy, I think you should have what you want,” she paused as my tears turned into hiccups and she patted my back, “and what you need right now is to be ‘little’… because… you are a sweet and completely different boy when you are… and I love it… and love you.”
My tears eventually dried up but Gwyneth still held me tenderly. I didn’t want to break away but I still didn’t have an answer.
“Can I please stay in my diapers with you and Teddy?” In my head it was a strong question but it came out as a childish, unsure whisper.
Gwyneth smiled. “I think that would be for the best. Don’t you worry about anything I’ll sort it out with the store manager. Your job now is to be a little boy who’s out to have fun and be happy.”
A shiver of relief and excitement ran through my body and I hugged my wonderful big sister even more fervently.
Gwyneth called me and said we were going out. Teddy and I had been having battles with our little cartoon characters which featured imaginary dinosaurs and dragons… I wondered if Gwyneth would get me some.
“Where are we going?” I asked as I eagerly rushed to my sister’s side as she grabbed her bag and car keys.
“I don’t want you to stay inside on such a lovely day so we’re off to the park.”
Although I was keen to go out myself I realised that the nearby park may well have people I know enjoying the sunshine and wondered what they might think of the way I was dressed. I’d gotten used to it now but thought my diaper would act like a beacon to anyone who wanted to mock or generally be unkind. Again any thoughts and doubts I may have had were demolished as Gwyneth grabbed my hand and led me out to the car. I didn’t want her to think I was scared of the consequences but I was.
I should have known my sister wouldn’t have put me in a situation to embarrass me as we drove for quite some time before we ended up at a park I’d never been to before. Once she’d parked up we got out and she opened the trunk to reveal that she had brought a picnic and in amongst the basket, blanket and chairs were a few of my toys and a ball. This was a terrific surprise and I smiled and helped her carry all the stuff towards a little picnic area where another man and boy were already sitting.
As we got closer I realised that it was actually Little Pauly and his dada. Pauly was wearing a huge monkey face on his white t-shirt and his little red shorts had monkeys climbing all around, all this was set of by bright red plastic sandals, which I thought looked fantastic and wanted a pair. Gwyneth and ‘dada’ greeted each other with air kisses and I was formally introduced to him.
“This is my little brother Benjy,” I shyly nodded at the man, “This is Pauly’s dada Mr Peak.”
“Erm, er, hello sir,” was all I could say as he smiled at me and let go of Pauly’s hand.
“I think we should let the little ones go and play… don’t you?” Mr Peak said to Gwyneth who nodded in agreement.
With that Pauly grabbed my hand and led me towards a little sandpit near the swings. He’d already started building a sandcastle and his bucket, spade, flags, toys and an assortment of other colourful shapes lay around.
His little voice encouraged me to start to build my own castle and it wasn’t long before I’d got the start of a huge complex going and Pauly was organising a road between the two buildings.
Like me, every time he moved his protection could be seen. Like mine, his shorts were very short and the pink plastic protection he wore to hold up his diaper was thick and shiny and once again I thought they looked fantastic and wanted some.
We were getting on really well. We giggled a lot as the entire sandpit became our kingdom where we were building villages and stuff everywhere. He’d even brought a couple of plastic dragons (I assumed from the castle he’d bought at the toys store) and it was brilliant as we got carried away and let our imaginations run wild.
We were called to eat and I noticed that dada spoon fed Pauly all his food. In between every fifth spoonful he held up the sippy cup for him to drink but, even with his Winnie The Pooh bib in place, he was a messy eater. His dada was continually wiping his face of sauce or crumbs but Pauly was enjoying the picnic and none of this bothered him at all.
We appeared to be the only people in the park and after we’d eaten we sat in the shade under a tree. Dada hugged Pauly and gently rocked him as he fell asleep for an afternoon nap but I was wide awake. I wanted to carry on playing on the swing or in the sandpit but Gwyneth said to I had to rest and I didn’t think I could defy her so, nestling in her arms I sat quietly and before long had dozed of myself.
I woke up to see Pauly in the middle of being changed. Right in front of both Gwyneth and me his dada had pulled down his shorts, unpopped his plastic pants and removed his soggy diaper. Like me Pauly had no hair down there, but there was a little piece of plastic locked around his pee-pee. I wasn’t sure what that was for but I suppose it kept everything neat and tidy. All through the process Pauly was sucking on a red pacifier that looked like it had a huge smile on it. That looked funny and I giggled as Gwyneth checked my diaper.
I was soaked without being aware of it so Gwyneth laid me side by side with Pauly and began my change. Being naked in the sun was a nice feeling but I wasn’t sure I wanted an audience.
However, I remembered the young boy at the mall and he had no worries about being changed in public, so I tried not to let it bother me. Gwyneth popped in my paci as she wiped and powdered me and within seconds I was wrapped in a new diaper with extra padding (I had wet a lot) and once the plastic pants had been pulled into place we boys were left to play on the blanket for a bit.
However, Pauly wanted to get back to our castles and he wandered over wearing no shorts. His dada sort of shrugged and continued his conversation with Gwyneth and I was allowed to join him. Wearing just our padding was revealing but neither of the adults seemed to care. Gwyneth thought the plastic pants should be enough protection from our diapers getting full of sand, so pretty soon we were left to play on our own whilst the adults did whatever it was that adults do. We were so into our game we didn’t even notice them.
We’d played for hours; swinging on the swings, building in the sandpit, chasing each other, kicking a ball about and we were both hot, sweaty and tuckered out when told it was home time. Pauly collected all his toys then together we jumped on our creations pretending we were giants in a mad, fun rampage of destruction that had us both roaring and laughing in equal measure.
Once our castles had been reduced back to sand Pauly rushed to his dada who checked him once more before being satisfied he was dry enough to travel. He helped him back into his monkey shorts and then, hand in hand, said their goodbyes and headed for their car. Gwyneth hugged me and asked if I’d had a fun day and I had to admit it had been super, in fact it had been super fabulous. Before I put on my shorts Gwyneth checked me but I was still dry. She tried to pull up my shorts but with all the extra padding that proved difficult so I was driven home wearing just my bulky protection. Every time we passed a truck I wondered if the driver could see into our car and know what I had on… and if he did, what he thought.
Once home I hugged Teddy and apologised for not taking him with us. He was still dressed the same as me so we just slipped back into our game where we left off. Meanwhile, Gwyneth had opened her laptop and was typing furiously. I was hoping that she had been inspired by our day out. However, time just flew by and before long she said it was time to have a bath and get ready for bed.
Whilst she bathed me we talked about the day and I said how much I’d enjoyed it. I told her how much I liked Pauly’s clothes, especially his red plastic sandals… and his monkeys… and his pink plastic pants… in fact everything. She asked if I’d noticed the little plastic thing on his pee-pee. I nodded so she asked if I knew what it was. I shook my head.
“Well, er, it’s there to stop him from, er, getting over excited.” I looked blankly up at her. “It prevents him from getting…” She was finding it difficult to find the words but in the end blurted out,
I looked surprised.
“His dada doesn’t like him to be anything but a toddler and doesn’t want him to have to worry about… grown up things…” she carried on explaining.
I think this must have been all part of the deep conversations they were having whilst we went off and played.
“Is it something you’d like?” I wasn’t sure if she was hopeful or wondering and to be truthful I wasn’t sure either, so I just shrugged and went back to playing with my toy boats.
After the bath Gwyneth diapered me up and pulled on my plastic pants. She was about to fit me into my footer when I told her I was too hot and pointed to Teddy, who was back sitting on my bed, and asked if I could I sleep like he was. Gwyneth seemed happy with this arrangement and gave me a bottle of strawberry milk to drink to help me sleep. She stayed with me until I’d sucked down the lot, chatting away about this and that and just before I was left to go to sleep she told me that her latest story was coming along nicely and she’d already written the dedication at the front. She said she had two and I had to decide which I liked best.
THANKS TO MY BROTHER BENJAMIN FOR HIS INSPIRATION
THANKS TO MY LITTLE BROTHER BENJY FOR HIS CONSTANT INSPIRATION
I thought for a moment and then said, “The second.”
I fell asleep happy and proud. It was only 7.15 on my bedside clock but I was out like a light it had been such a hectic day.
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.
Draw and everything by tehcutepyro
Poor Buizel looks like his friend should have make the joke whit him whit a thicker diaper.
The diaper sure could not handle the massive flood that he decide to release into it :(
He sure have put himself in one special situation right now.
This story is written by Les Lea
Later, when I’d calmed down, Gwyneth told me her thinking. She said that from the moment I saw the photo of me with Teddy as a baby there was an immediate change of expression on my face; wistful, thoughtful, with a touch of longing. She wasn’t sure but thought Teddy made me happy. I began to think back – certainly that time in my life, when I wasn’t regarded as anything but a toddler, when I didn’t have to prove myself and just enjoy my childhood… I was like everyone else my age… a little kid revelling in what was around him… I was happy.
She went into a great deal of detail about how I tried so hard to live up to my parent’s expectations; they were of the opinion that kids should grow up quick and had little time for games and play – ‘read and learn’ was their philosophy. Unfortunately, those were the very things Gwyneth was most happy doing but I just couldn’t get to grips with. Reading and numbers just weren’t for me and I wrestled with school work, which I found very difficult no matter how I tried. My sister went on about how, even so young, I let failure weigh heavy on my shoulder, although it wasn’t always obvious because I tried to be positive and strived to be upbeat.
Once our parents realised I wasn’t going to be a boy genius (they were most disappointed in my report cards) they more or less lost interest. They gave themselves over to their work and concentrated on their careers rather than what I did. Of course Gwyneth was way ahead in her development and they saw no problems there. Often I tried to read but once I’d open a book, if I got past the first two pages, well, my concentration level jumped to wanting to watch TV or go and play outside. Sometimes I’d curl up with Gwyneth and she’d read to me whatever it was she was interested in. I may not have understood everything but I think, without her, I’d know very little. When I thought about it, she did the job my parents should have done. It wasn’t that they ignored me, more that they tolerated me. I was their son after all…
I zoned back in to what Gwyneth was saying. “You may not have been the cleverest in school but everyone liked you.” She looked at me very concerned and stroked my arm.
She went on to tell me that even now I accept limitations but said I shouldn’t. She thought it sad that I didn’t have a girlfriend… or a boyfriend, she nudged me and smiled, but thought I needed to do something to break away from my ‘boring’ rut of a life… and do something to regain my happiness.
“The recreation of the photograph last night suddenly brought things into focus for me,” she was on a roll now. “You seemed to become a different person, a happy person, a person who, left to their own devices… and given the right stimulus…”
“You mean you thought I enjoyed being a baby?” I asked incredulously.
She pointed to the screen. “Yes, just look at yourself. Even when you’re asleep you look happy.”
A shiver ran through my body because I knew she was making some kind of sense and I had really loved last night. “But the diaper… what will people think?”
“Well,” she pondered. “You may not like it but… I think that helped release something in you – something that has been holding you back. Last night we giggled like kids and there was no one around but us two to say anything or have an opinion about what we did. No parents, no workmates, no one to hold you back, so why should you let others inhibit you? Stop thinking about what others may think… they don’t matter.”
Then she ran her hand through my hair and kissed my forehead, “And yes… even for an eighteen year-old, running around in a diaper… you looked pretty damn cute.”
“But why put it all online, couldn’t you just have said something?” I complained.
“It was just a spur of the moment decision. I wanted to let you see that the majority of people quite like to see someone enjoying themselves. People like all kinds of things to hide what they do and what they are, but you brother, were open and happy when you weren’t worrying about anyone else and I think others respond to that.” She pointed to the screen, “I think you respond to that.”
There were more opinions from my sister and, as she’s a lot brighter than me, eventually convinced me that this was a turning point in my life. She added that the comments online were almost all positive, occasionally cheeky but always interested, supportive and in some ways quite affectionate. Of course there’s going to be one or two people who hate the idea of others finding a way of having fun “Just so they can shit on you” (yep she actually said shit) but, and this is where her recent shopping trip had come in, she wanted to try and let me take that idea of happiness a little further.
She’d bought a whole load of adult disposables and wanted me to spend the next few days wearing nothing but them. She persuaded me that I needed to get back to when I was at my happiest. To relive those times hoping to give me a window into what I needed to do to make me content in the future. I baulked at her suggestion but my sister has a way of getting me to go along with her plans so, guess what?
She took me upstairs, stripped me out of my shorts and t-shirt and slipped me into a tight-fitting disposable. She took great pains to make the event something special; opening the package, unfurling the diaper, enjoying the crinkling sound as she spread it under my bottom. The wet-wipes and powder she used to clean me up (not that I was dirty or anything it was all part of a process), the silliness as I started to get a stiffy from her ministrations, which she quickly took care of by pulling the disposable tightly up between my legs and taping me snugly in. From her bag she produced a pair of plastic pants and had me climb into them after which led me to Teddy, who, during the proceedings she had found time to dress the same. How she knew I’d go along with her suggestion I do not know but, oddly enough, I was delighted to see Teddy dressed like me and it did make things easier. We spent the rest of the day playing games; me, my sister and Teddy.
Now you may think – well that was easy – getting me into diapers but I’ve spared you the long discussion we had to go through to get to that stage. She showed me loads of comments that had been posted by those who’d watched the clip or seen the images. As I’ve said, most seemed straight forward and nice but others were actually welcoming me to my ‘little’ side. I had no idea what they were referring to but Gwyneth seemed to understand and, more importantly, felt it was something I should get to know. Ever the author, she’d spent some time researching what it all meant and thought it applied to me, even if I wasn’t aware of it.
She then showed me clip after clip of other grown-ups wearing diapers and having fun. People from all over the world and all ages, I was astonished there were others at all. A couple of cute boys in Japan appeared to have a site about their daily diapered exploits, one nice young man sang a song at his piano dressed in a thick diaper. There were so many – an old guy eating whilst in a high-chair, others drinking from baby-bottles and sippy cups or charging around whilst wearing nothing but diapers and a cape pretending to be a super hero.
Meanwhile, as some played with toys several exhibited what they had just crayoned or painted. It was quite overwhelming and gave the impression that diapered and padded plastic covered bottoms were everywhere. It was a whole new world to me and one I had no idea existed but, as Gwyneth pointed out, they were all enjoying themselves and not worrying what anyone else thought. She convinced me to give it a go and promised that if I wasn’t getting any pleasure from the new ‘situation’ then we’d forget all about it.
It was late evening when I was eventually diapered and, thanks to Gwyneth, I didn’t feel guilty whilst running around dressed as I was and cheerfully including Teddy in all my escapades.
Suddenly my mind was open to fun – childish fun – fun that I hadn’t experienced, well, since I was a toddler. The truth was I was in my element. Weirdly, the wearing of a diaper and plastic pants (Gwyneth said it was my freedom uniform!) had no restricting effect on the way I behaved. In fact, she was correct, it felt wonderful to wear; snug, comfortable and the constant rustling as I moved around acted like some kind of soothing sound I found reassuring. Though it may have appeared very juvenile to anyone looking on I’d never felt happier, freer, or more content. The diapers, the plastic pants, the pacifier, indeed the entire ensemble gave me a feeling of complete reassurance. Teddy provided someone I could direct it all to, while Gwyneth was my guide and safeguard.
In the morning I woke up with Teddy and off course I’d spent the night wearing just my padded protection (another term Gwyneth used although I wasn’t sure from what it was I was being protected). My sister was standing over me and gently shaking my shoulder to rouse me from my deep and untroubled sleep and then, without asking, she felt down the front of my diaper.
“What are you doing?” I queried as I quickly clasped her hand over my bulky protection stopping her searching fingers from reaching any further.
“Just checking what?”
“Just seeing if you wet yourself in the night…”
“What?” I asked incredulously. “Why would I wet myself?”
“You might have… I was just checking so that you don’t have to be embarrassed if you had and…”
“Stop, stop.” I waved my finger at her. “I’m old enough to get up and go to the bathroom, why on earth would I wet myself?”
She smiled. “You don’t have to get all defensive. All I’m saying is… if you had wet yourself it’s OK I will…”
“That’s not OK at all,” I argued. “I’m not going to pee… or poop in a diaper… YUK!”
“Fair enough. All I’m saying is, should you do so then you don’t have to feel embarrassed about it. I’ll change and clean you up.”
I was getting slightly annoyed. Even though I enjoyed being in my diaper I didn’t actually think about using it as a toilet. However, soon after she left the room for me to get up she returned with a new disposable and some other bits and bobs and told me I needed a change anyway. As I’d sort of agreed to wearing nothing but a diaper for the next couple of days she just shrugged off my half-hearted protests and unfurled the crinkly package.
As I lay there I was wondering – Why is she behaving in this way?
We’d agreed that it was something I might like to try but wetting and stuff… in a diaper… I wasn’t keen on that at all, and then it hit me. She’d recently lost her own chance of a baby, perhaps the miscarriage was affecting her and I was now some kind of surrogate, someone she was projecting her unresolved feelings on? In that moment of comprehension my emotions welled up inside me again and I hugged my sister. After all she’d been through, still acting strong and in charge yet perhaps she needed her own way of coping with things. I was choked at the thought that if I could help, then I was there for her no matter what it took.
Without making a fuss I let her strip off my night time stuff, clean me up (just as she said she would) but this time, when she had me lay out on the newly unfurled diaper, she added some extra pads before taping me tightly into place. This was a whole new experience and with the plastic pants now firmly holding it securely she led me down to breakfast. At this point I have to admit to being more than a little confused. I wasn’t sure whether I was doing this for her or for me but the bulky, rustling diaper arrangement meant I now had a wild noisy waddle as I negotiated the stairs but even that was funny and we joked about it.
She’d cut up my pancakes and, although she’d put juice in a sippy cup, I stopped short at her suggestion of feeding me. However, I had noticed that my meal now came in a plastic bowl with cartoon animals smiling sweetly up at me and a spoon that echoed the same cheerful motif. She appeared to have gone to a lot of trouble to make me feel happy about being ‘little’ and I reluctantly began to appreciate all her efforts.
I was happy to wander around the house dressed as I was but when she suggested we go out for the day and enjoy the sunshine in the park or a walk up in the hills I was a little less sure. She told me to just pull a pair of shorts over my diaper and slip on a shirt and I’d be fine. I wasn’t sure about this at all as I was under no illusion that people would be able to tell what I was really wearing under my shorts. Her opinion was simple “Screw them” no one else mattered but me and, she whispered conspiratorially in my ear.
“Don’t you think it would be quite exciting, Little Benjy doing what he wants for a change?”
Once again, somehow, what she wanted I agreed to and before too long I’d tried on several pairs of shorts and jeans to try and hide the bulkiness, none of which fitted properly. I was beginning to see the downside to wearing padding and such thick padding at that. I was about to tell Gwyneth that I couldn’t find anything but in the end one pair of baggy shorts (I didn’t much like because they were too slack) managed to do the job and surprise, surprise, they were no longer loose.
It was a wonderful hot day and I was more than pleased to be out and about not really paying much attention to what I was wearing. Although I could feel the bulk of it all I thought that the shorts hid what was underneath pretty well. We walked up into the hills and hardly saw anyone, those that did pass by just nodded or said “Hello” and carried on their way. We found a lovely shady spot where Gwyneth decided we’d have our picnic. She’d brought sodas, sandwiches and fruit but I wondered what I’d brought in the little backpack she’d given me to carry. She told me all would be revealed eventually but for the time being we should eat and enjoy the wonderful, peaceful surroundings.
The mass between my legs had made me waddle as we walked. It felt peculiar but I was getting a feeling of pleasure knowing what I was wearing, the problem was the padding and plastic made me sweat and I could feel moisture pooling at my crotch. Once we’d sat down Gwyneth saw me trying to rearrange the diaper and suggested, as it was so hot, I take off my shorts and shirt to let some sun and air get to my diaper… as I looked like “…a sweating pig”. It was true I was soaked and it would be a bit of a relief so I furtively looked around and saw no one anywhere near so I did as she suggested. It felt great being outside in the fresh air in just a diaper. Gwyneth thought I looked particularly cute and encouraged me run around and to chase butterflies as she got the picnic ready.
I was aware that she was also taking photos with her phone and to be honest I was acting the big kid just for the camera. However, I didn’t know just how much I was enjoying myself until a little while later I noticed a couple talking with Gwyneth. I froze as I heard these two old people, both with walking sticks, making small talk about the weather and the beautiful countryside. They were looking across at me, waving and I heard them say that they liked to see a boy enjoying himself.
So engrossed in my game of ‘chase the bugs’ I hadn’t seen the couple arrive but their sudden appearance startled me and made me do something I never thought I’d do – I felt a nervous spurt of pee escape. It was if my bladder was shocked by this unexpected visitation and reacted accordingly. I stood there stunned as they continued to chat and wave a greeting. Unfortunately, I was too embarrassed to respond even if no one else appeared to be. It was too late to hide so I just stood there, like a statue, about twenty feet away completely immobile and wishing I was somewhere else.
Gwyneth called me over as the food was ready and inferred I should come and say ‘Hello’ but I was just too self-conscious. Eventually, the couple stopped talking to Gwyneth and carried on their way. As they passed by they smiled and said what a lovely day it was before disappearing down the hill. However, as they spoke, and without warning, my little spurt turned into a flow and no matter what my brain was saying to try and stop it, pee filled the diaper to complete my humiliation. The couple had obviously seen what I was wearing but there was no mention of diapers or shiny plastic pants, even though they were now an even bulkier part of my outfit having absorbed a great deal of liquid.
I waddled over to Gwyneth who looked at me strangely before I think she realized what I’d done.
With a knowing but sympathetic expression she asked. “Do you need a change?”
I wasn’t sure whether to admit it but there seemed little point in denying what had happened so I nodded. She lifted her hand examining the front of my diaper and said it wasn’t so bad and that it could wait for a while and we should eat first. Despite my embarrassment I was starving so plonked myself down on the blanket and set about the ham, cheese and tomato sandwiches (covered in mayo) with relish.
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.
Draw by Dari-dario
Looks like this fox biggest fear suddenly turn into a reality :(
This sure was a mean thing of duffy to do :(
This thing sure going to spread like a forest fire in the school about that this fox is wearing diapers.
This story is written by Les Lea
Though it’s a name I never really liked, Benjy just seemed appropriate at that moment. She took my hand and guided me back to Teddy who once again seemed more than happy to see me, even dressed as I was. Gwyneth was keen that we should cuddle on the floor (not me and her, me and Teddy) so she could get another photograph. He was so cosy and soft it was like falling into warm butter and, as I squeezed him tightly, his furry arms appeared to embrace me at the same time. There is something very satisfying about a soft, yielding bear that welcomes you into its arms and responds with soft fleecy tickles to your naked body. Everywhere his fur touched produced a wonderful sensation; little ripples of giggly pleasure and velvety reassurance added together with delicate caresses made me feel very safe… and very loved.
There was one thing missing and I was surprised when Gwyneth suddenly produced the finishing touch. She slipped a huge blue pacifier between my lips, which I had no idea how she got or where it came from. At that moment I didn’t question anything as Gwyneth started organising and taking her snaps.
It was no problem snuggling with Teddy and to tell you the truth I was thoroughly enjoying myself. This was the most intimate contact I’d had with anyone (or anything) since, well, since I was five and had my final cuddle with the original Teddy… and I appreciated this renewed relationship.
The room was warm and I was comfortable wearing only a made-up diaper. It fitted tightly so wasn’t falling down every few seconds and once Gwyneth had finished taking her photos, we settled down to finish our meal, well dessert actually. It was nothing special except a rather colourful ice-cream medley. We decided to have it sitting on the sofa whilst watching a late night movie. Teddy was just too big to sit with us so he sat at my bare feet, tickling them every time I brushed against him, which I did regularly, so I was smiling when my sister brought in the dessert in a bowl.
She then did something we’d never done before; she fed me spoonsful of the stuff in between taking the odd mouthful for herself. It was a lovely tender and unexpected moment. At one point we were in fits of laughter because she’d offered some to Teddy only for him to turn it down. I think she sneakily nudged his head so it looked like he was refusing the creamy delight.
“Well I suppose someone’s got to think of their figure,” she shrugged and we both sniggered like tots at that.
The movie was boring and the wine had made me very tired so I excused myself and brought my 18th birthday celebrations to a close. Gwyneth gave me a ‘goodnight’ peck and I thanked her for a great fun night (I had actually enjoyed what we’d done together it was so unlike anything we’d ever done before) as she patted my diapered bum and jokingly said I wasn’t to wet, but if I was going to, then at least I was dressed accordingly.
I laughed as I began to trundle to my room but she called me back and asked if I wasn’t forgetting somebody? Of course, Teddy. I picked him up, for such a huge animal he was incredibly light to carry, and we toddled off to bed. It felt strange having the thickness of the diaper between my legs but with Teddy by my side I wasn’t worried, I dreamily thought he’d protect me from whatever the darkness brought. He was my friend and oddly enough the diaper seemed to make everything feel as it should be. Maybe it was the memory of how comforting diapers had been after I lost Teddy the first time that made me not worry as to the way I was dressed.
We climbed on top of the sheets together and it was so nice sinking into bed with someone else, even if that someone was Teddy. He was warm and welcoming and it wasn’t long before, clutched in his paws (and him mine) we were dead to the world.
I woke up from a particularly heavy night’s sleep. I was slightly woozy but I was still clutching hold of Teddy, I smiled and thanked him for keeping me safe. I lay there for a few minutes enjoying the sensation of Teddy against my skin when I became aware of the thickness between my legs. I pulled back the thin piece of sheet partially covering us both and saw the towel hanging loosely around my hips. I was quite impressed that I’d been able to sleep with such an unusual thing wrapped around me but apparently, it had made no difference to how I slept. Then I suddenly wondered if I’d wet myself. I didn’t feel wet but… I slipped my hand across the front and thankfully that all felt dry, then, furtively, I slipped it down the front and checked around my dick.
“Dry”, I sighed with relief.
I got up, went to the bathroom and had a nice long shower. I could hear Gwyneth pottering around downstairs and was really pleased with the way we’d celebrated my birthday. As the shower grew warmer I was thinking it was a birthday I’d never forget and beamed enthusiastically at the thought of what we’d done. It had been madly childish but I now had a new Teddy and although
I was eighteen, I wasn’t going to let my parents or anyone else send him to the goodwill store.
Dressed in shorts and t-shirt I wandered downstairs. I had four days off until I was scheduled to go back into work so I was being comfortable and relaxed. The store uniform was a tight-fitting green polyester ensemble of trousers and a shirt; with my name and ‘CAN I HELP’ written across the left breast, it wasn’t the most comfortable thing to wear but no one could pretend I wasn’t staff. Anyway, it was something I was always happy to ditch the moment I got home and slip into my favourite casual clothing, which is what I now wore as I wondered into the kitchen.
Gwyneth was making coffee, smiling and humming to herself. We exchanged the usual pleasantries but I detected a grin on her face, which meant she was up to something.
“What are you smiling about,” I enquired.
“Oh, nothing much except I did something last night I’m… er… surprised at the results.” She smiled but looked down as if she had a guilty secret.
“Yes, it was pretty strange wasn’t it… oh… and that reminds me… I’ve put the diaper in the bin. It’s not wet. Well it is but I… er… just dried myself on it.” I said quickly defending myself against any thoughts to the contrary she might have.
Her face brightened up.
“No seriously. I didn’t pee my diaper, honest. I just used what was nearby when I climbed out of the shower.” I stammered.
She could see I was getting slightly agitated over nothing but that smile was still there.
“I believe you,” she tried to calm me and put her hand over mine. “Anyway, I’m talking about something else.” And she flipped open the laptop that lay in front of her.
“See,” she pointed to a Facebook page that had an image of me as a one year-old and me as an eighteen year-old, side by side hugging teddies, with pacis in our mouth and wearing diapers.
She’d put the damn image from last night online. I was mortified. Not only that but as a joke she had swapped the caption underneath so it read “Benjy at 18” under the image of me at one year-old and “Benjy at 1” under the other.
“Take it down.”
She was still smiling.
“Please, Gwyneth, take it down before anyone sees it… I… I…”
“Too late for that I’m afraid.” The smile never left her face as she pointed to the fact that there were 207 Likes and 44 Comments… all of which Gwyneth assured me were positive.
I put my head in my hands and wondered what I should do. I’ve never been any good at getting angry and I don’t think I’ve ever lost my temper with Gwyneth so I was stumped for how I should really respond. All I could think about was the guys at work seeing it and them constantly referring to it. It was a good thing I had so few friends, I wasn’t on Facebook because of that, but she told me she’d set one up just for me. Also, she informed me that I was now ‘trending’, whatever that was, and the next time I looked the Facebook page had gone up to 297 Likes and 61 comments.
I sat quietly sipping my coffee but unable to eat anything at that moment. I had filled-up and I was desperately trying to hold back my emotions. I wondered what had possessed her to do such a thing but as she was sat typing away I thought perhaps it had helped her get past her writers block. She pressed the ‘enter’ key and sat back relieved as if she’d just completed an enormous task.
“Have you unblocked yourself,” I asked rather ineptly (and weepily).
She looked at me pondering what I meant, “Can you now write… have you got over not having a story or… whatever…?”
She smiled and said that she now had an idea but that it would need my help to see where it led. She was trying to cheer me up and dig me out of my ‘emotional’ state with a bit of enthusiasm.
She speculated that it might be a terrific change of style for her but needed my involvement and hoped I’d be up for it. I was still nursing my bruised and emotional ego; I didn’t really want 297… no it was now 314… people to think of me as a baby but I suppose it did no real harm. After all, I had so few friends to worry over and in fact, my parents and my sister were the only people I really had anything to do with. I liked the guys at work but… well… it was work; it wasn’t like we socialised much. Even school mates were few and far between, I only saw them when they were back from college or university or where ever.
“I’ve just uploaded a few more images of you from last night to the page…” she spun the screen for me to see, “and already people are clicking the ‘Like’ button.”
Although I was frustrated with her attitude my sister had furnished me with something else for my birthday, something I would never even have thought about, my own Facebook page. As I watched the screen I was amazed to see the number of Likes and Comments that kept appearing. She smiled at my stunned expression and suggested that I should read some of them.
I had no idea how to go about it but she pointed out how many Likes each image was receiving and clicked on a box that let me see the comments. Most were very positive: “Oooo look at the lickle babe”, “What a sweet innocent picture”, “Lovely idea”, “What a nice boy” and similar things. However, there were one or two more intense messages.
Gwyneth tapped the screen. “I think maybe later we should take a look at these suggestions and see where they lead.”
I shook my head and told her I didn’t think so but she begged me to reconsider as she thought it would make an interesting part to a new novel she was just beginning to envisage. This, she promised, would get her back on track as she could already feel her creative juices flowing. I still doubted the wisdom of getting involved but she told me that I would be credited at the front of the book for my ‘inspiration’. OK, she got me. How could I refuse my sister and such an opportunity to be recognised as someone who had given a successful author ‘inspiration’?
As I sat at her laptop reading the various messages she told me, as she slipped on her coat, collected her car keys and headed for the door, not to reply to any comment just yet. I just shrugged but I have to admit that my curiosity was aroused by just how many people, now standing at over 400 Likes and 83 Comments, felt the need to acknowledge my photographs. I know I was looking like a happy teenager playing with a huge teddy bear and wearing just a diaper but I couldn’t get over why that should create such attention.
“Where you going?” I eventually managed to break away from the screen.
“Just to get a few things from the store, I shouldn’t be long.” She smiled. “There’s plenty of juice in the fridge if you’d rather have that than coffee… and there are some English muffin’s if you want something to eat.”
“OK, see you soon.”
I did prefer juice and poured myself a lovely long cool glass of OJ before putting the muffins in the toaster. I grabbed the butter and strawberry jelly and sat at the laptop waiting for the toaster to do its job, the screen had gone blank and wasn’t sure whether I should touch it to try and get my pages back. I was curious to see how things had developed since I’d last looked. I waited until I’d finished my breakfast before I examined the screen again and hoped that by touching one of the keys I didn’t erase all of Gwyneth’s work.
A list of recently visited sites appeared and I was distracted to see that the latest one was YouTube. This was perhaps one of my favourite sites because of all the cute animal clips that seemed to occupy most of its content. I decided I’d like to see some playful kittens to cheer myself up and pressed on the key. It went straight to a clip of a big baby rolling around the floor with a huge teddy. Oh no, it was me. The clip started on my diaper pins and slowly pulled out to reveal, well, everything. To begin with my face was hidden by the big paci and it could have been anybody but as I played with Teddy and moved around the floor hugging and kissing him I became more and more identifiable.
My mouth went dry, it was if I’d never even drunk that OJ, and I stared at the screen mesmerised by my actions. There was absolutely no doubt I was having fun, diaper or not, and from the occasional looks to the camera you could tell I was in my element. As I watched my body went clammy and I could feel those emotions of mine rising to the surface.
As I happily played my diapered bottom appeared to be the main focus of attention – just what the hell was Gwyneth thinking? There were three different clips; two of me playing with Teddy and one of me sleeping with Teddy, which I didn’t even know she’d recorded. In fact, I didn’t know she’d recorded anything I thought she was just taking photos with her phone. There I was, happily snuggling Teddy with my arms wrapped around him, paci hanging slightly out of my mouth fast asleep and my white padded bottom looking quite prominent against the dark blue of my sheets.
I wondered why so many people had commented and noticed that the clips had, even after just such a short space of time, received more than 3200 hits. There was a link to the Facebook page but now I was dreading reading the comments as I was sure they would be calling me a perv… or worse. I filled up with tears and cried because I didn’t know what I could do, I thought such notoriety would make me a laughing stock in town, perhaps lose my job and I’d never be able to look people in the eye again.
My bottom lip was still trembling when Gwyneth arrived back home. I hadn’t moved from staring at the screen because I was simply mesmerised by the images. She could see I was disturbed and dropped the bundle of packages she was carrying and came over to comfort me. The sobbing became a full blown wail as I buried my head in her bosom and kept on asking her “Why?” I assumed she hadn’t done it to hurt me but I couldn’t figure out why she would do such a thing.
After a few minutes I calmed down and I looked at my sister through tear-stained eyes. She hugged me again and asked why I was crying. I was speechless that she could ask such a question so just pointed to the screen.
“Yes, it’s you…” she asked with concern, “but why are you crying?”
“What… what… what will…” I sniffed, “what will people think?”
She just shook her head slightly.
“They’ll think that there’s something wrong with me… they’ll think I’m…” I couldn’t finish my thoughts as I was overcome once again with a huge sob that gripped my throat and left me shaking my head in disbelief.
“Tell me,” Gwyneth was now all very serious, “aren’t those really tears of happiness?”
I looked at her in disbelief.
“You’re eighteen. Eighteen,” she emphasised, “and” she pointed at the screen, “that’s the first time I’ve seen you truly happy in many-a-year.”
There was no doubt about it those images were of me genuinely happy. When I was playing with Teddy I simply didn’t have another thought in my head apart from having a fun time with him.
But I wondered, what might others think of an eighteen year-old running around in a towel… that’s a diaper?
Gwyneth hugged me once more. “You, my sweet little Benjy, needed something. I wasn’t sure what to begin with but, and I’m sorry to say this to my little brother but, you needed a kick up the arse for you to start living.”
I was stunned at what she was saying.
“You are eighteen and just coasting through life. You have a miserable job…” I interrupted her and said that at least I had a job. “Yes you do, and I’m sure it’s fine in many ways but… I’ve never seen you actually happy for so long now. You seem to have few, if any, friends and mom and dad are no real help to encourage you…”
The enormity of what she was saying suddenly gripped me and I felt that huge sob I’d been holding back in the pit of my stomach come out with force. I hung onto Gwyneth as I wailed and wailed, not this time because I was worried about what others might think but because she was correct.
This story is written by Les Lea