Public humiliation

Danni – My life as a living boy doll Part 7

This story is written by Les Lea

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This story is written by Les Lea

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

Chapter 6

Chapter 8

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Danni – My life as a living boy doll Part 6

This story is written by Les Lea

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This story is written by Les Lea

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

Chapter 5

Chapter 7

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Danni – My life as a living boy doll Part 5

This story is written by Les Lea

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This story is written by Les Lea

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

Chapter 4

Chapter 6

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Diaperfur Comic: Tickle Bullying

Diaperfur Comic: Tickle Bullying

Hugo, Alan, Luke and Mark were in school. They usually wear pants to hide their diapers. But those pants weren’t fooling bullies.

Those bullies took their pants down so everyone can see their diapers.

Then those bullies tickled them hard, so hard that those diapered babies made messy diapers.

Now those bullies carried them somewhere. Where are they taking them?

Order and above text by robot8

Draw by tato

Source: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/32000576/

Yes it sure is not strange that they end up using there diaper when the bullies was tickled them that match :(

But where are they going to be tacking now? It sure most starting to smell pretty bad in that hallway now from this four messy diaper.

But i dont think the bullies are going to carried them to the locker room for a diaper change. It sure going to be some more blushing thing that’s going to happen there :(

I sure hope someone is going to be able to stop them before something else is happening.

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Captured by Fairy’s

Captured by Fairy'sPoor Ashchu, caught by a Sylveon and now trapped on stage, being made to dance thanks to magical puppet strings attached to him. Also in a thick bulky diaper of all things… How humiliating!

Draw and everything by Rogeykun

Source: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/31749389/

Poor Ashchu he sure have ended up in one blushing situation here. But it maybe going to even more humiliated when the body decide it is empty bladder or bowel time. Then he is going to be force to be using his diaper on stage in front of everyone. That sure going to be a blushing moment.

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Kenny Part 19

This story is written by Les Lea

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

***

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

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

***

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

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

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

***

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

***

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

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

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

This story is written by Les Lea

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

Chapter 18

Chapter 20

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Rip

 RipI think he chose the wrong pair of pants to go out with. owh well, at least he was wearing a layer of protection.

The furry belongs to Innouva

Draw and above text by cubdrawer

Source: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/31614019/

The title of this drawing sure fit the situation in this drawing. this sure is a very bad and blushing situation. Even worse when the diaper you are wearing is wet. Poor thing what is he going to do now to escape this blushing situation? looks like everyone have found out his biggest secret :(

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Shopping Trip

Shopping TripJust picking new clothes…

A gift for legandaryhon from yurika400

Source: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/31564829/

Looks to me more that they are picking up some more diapers then cloths. Looks like this otter have allot of more diaper wearing days to looking forward to. But from the look of it its going to be allot of blushing and humiliations.

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