Pull ups

Danni – My life as a living boy doll Part 8

This story is written by Les Lea

The morning of my birthday I woke up very excited and, to Julie’s obvious pleasure, completely soaked. She unzipped and let me out of my onesie but left me in my soggy nappy whilst she went off to get something. She’d been doing this a few times now and I hadn’t realised what was going on. However, I now noticed that when she left mum would come in, see the drooping nappy, look sympathetically at me but it would also confirm all that my sister had been telling her about her continually wetting little baby brother. Then we’d cuddle, she’d murmur some soothing words, while I felt like a guilty little toddler who’d let her down. Julie would then breeze back in armed with whatever she’d decided I was to wear, whilst I would be too embarrassed to protest and mum would leave her to get me ready for the day ahead.

It wasn’t really surprising that I was waking up wet more and more often as Julie had been feeding me warm drinks last thing at night whilst she told me stories. I have to admit that this was one of the things I really did enjoy, when she made up stories that had me in the starring role. I’d be enthralled but she would say that I had to finish my drink if I wanted her to continue and, before I knew it vast amounts of some wonderfully flavoured liquid would have been consumed. My bedtime was seven o’clock, this was one of my sister’s rulings, as she decreed little boys need their sleep and, because I nearly always got a story and something sweet to drink, I was happy to comply.

Mum would often stand at the doorway and listen to the tales that Julie told and she’d see me in my bed, smiling and enthusing about some aspect of the story, so she witnessed herself that all was well. I think it was at these moments when, whatever doubts she might have had about me being in anyway unhappy about my ‘situation’, they were alleviated by what she saw as the ‘wonderful and loving’ interaction between her daughter and her obviously consenting son. There was undoubtedly more times than not when I thought Julie was the cleverest and most thoughtful person in the world and these especially were just such times when I loved my sister.

I also loved Saturday mornings when my favourite TV programme was on, a cartoon about Greek heroes, which I found really fascinating. I was so keen on these historical adventures that Julie had been able to adapt some of them in her stories so that Hercules and I could battle together, or I’d be part of Jason and the Argonauts crew. She was very good at getting me participating, and being a major force, in these myths and legends. I was often so engrossed in what was on the screen that I regularly ended up watching in just a damp nappy before being dressed appropriately. On that point I have to say it was not an issue anymore – I was used to it, mum was used to it and Julie made sure I didn’t make a mess or act-up (and repeatedly said that it was ‘just the way I am’ to mum). Not that I would dare to act-up because just one of her ‘looks’ would have had me shrinking from any form of argument. Having said that, it all became natural and normal, what was expected so how could I object to it anyway? It was just the way it was in our house, much the same as it was for whatever way Julie decided to have me dressed. Even on this day as an 8 year-old (yeah my birthday), I was left to run around the house wearing only my thick pull-ups with the cartoon princess on the front. Mum said I could open my cards and presents that had already been delivered before my party got underway later in the afternoon. Earlier in the week mum had asked if I wanted anything special and, as I’d been playing around on the piano at school during choir practice, I asked for a little keyboard.

After breakfast I rushed from the kitchen into the living room where mum’s present was. The place was full of balloons wishing me a Happy Birthday and there were some cards waiting, a few wrapped gifts but the main one was surrounded by a huge gold bow. Excitedly I pulled at the wonderful decoration, which revealed a small, but expensive looking, electric piano. I couldn’t believe that mum had got me such a fine instrument and couldn’t wait to try it out. We plugged it in and I promptly played a few bars from a song we’d been learning in class. Mum was amazed at how well I could play. In fact, it was something I’d only recently found out myself… that I could pick out notes on the piano then Miss Simms showed me the chords. Pretty soon, once I’d heard a tune or song, I could pick it up very quickly and loved being able to do so. I didn’t realise that I had a talent as it was something that just came naturally. I hugged mum with thanks – I was so happy I wriggled joyfully in her embrace as she patted my padded bum and kissed the top of my head. Julie said that I wasn’t going to get her present until the party, which I thought was typical of her, keeping me on the verge of excitement, wondering what it could be. She didn’t let on.

About noon the caterers came to set up for the party. Mum and Julie had been planning a Superheroes theme (although I didn’t know that at the time) and my organising sister had been on the phone almost permanently sorting things out. I’d heard clips of conversation but as soon as she saw that I was in earshot she whispered so I couldn‘t hear or hung up. It was all very secretive and I was getting very excited indeed. After watching my TV programme (about Zeus) I played on my new piano and was surprised at being able to make stuff up that sounded, to me at least, quite good. As the caterers began to set out the tables under an awning in the garden Julie ushered me upstairs out of the way. She ran a bath and filled it full of bubbles. Now, ever since I was a baby I have just loved bubbles and enjoyed hiding and playing in amongst them whilst I was bathed by either her or mum. Even if I was in the park and another kid was blowing bubbles you’d find me chasing after them, popping each as I tried to capture them. It was one of those things that Julie always knew to do if I was in a mood (which was rarely) or wanted to keep me entertained. Yeah Bubbles!

She helped me out of my surprisingly damp pull-ups and lifted me into the foam. I sat in the bath and I piled bubbles all over my head, made beards, pretended it was thick fog and my toy boats had to manoeuvre their way through the ‘mists’ and ‘icebergs’. I was having fun and must have been in there for quite some time as it was relatively cool when eventually Julie, who had left me to it whilst she went off to ‘supervise’ (her word) the caterers, returned with a thick towel. Although I was quite capable of doing things for myself, if she was around, then she was in charge and I acquiesced and let her get on with it. She thoroughly rubbed me dry, covered me in lotion and massaged it in and then finally added a comprehensive sprinkling of powder to all my ‘boy’ parts. She wrapped me in the towel and I was guided to my room where she had prepared a surprise.

Happy Birthday,” she sang as I became aware of just what she’d done. Laid out on my bed was a short tunic with gold braid.

I was flabbergasted. I couldn’t believe it. She continued, “This is my present,” she looked at my awestruck expression, “I know how much you like this stuff… so I thought I’d get you something special.”

I hugged my sister so tightly and I have to say there were tears of joy in my eyes as I thanked her but I was speechless. She held me until she thought I’d calmed down a bit then suggested that I try it on and get ready to receive my guests. I was spellbound. First she fastened me firmly into a white disposable, which I never gave a second thought about, then over that she pulled a shiny gold coloured nappy cover and checked that it fit nice and snug. Next she fitted the little white silky tunic around my waist and fed my arm through a shoulder strap. The material was soft and shiny with loads of pleats making it look like a short kilt. There was gold braiding along the edges, which appeared to match my new ‘underwear’. It made me feel really very special. I looked in the mirror once she’d finished checking that everything was in order and couldn’t believe it – I was dressed just like my hero Jason from the TV programme. She’d even got me a pair of gold sandals that fastened up my legs and to top it off, she added a gold laurel wreath for my hair. I’d been transformed from me… into a real Greek hero and I just could not believe how proud and courageous I felt.

As I hugged and thanked my thoughtful sister again and again, she just gleefully patted my nicely padded bottom and said she was so glad I liked it and was what I deserved for being “…the best little baby brother in the world.” She’d also thoughtfully found a huge poster of Jason and the Argonauts from the TV series, which she said she’d hang up for me later, and who, apart from a small sword hanging from his waist, was dressed exactly like me. I twirled in front of the mirror. The gold sparkled, the shiny material glistened and even the new gold ‘protection’ shimmered and complemented the mythical look. The final thing was a little gold rope sash that was tightened around my waist, I thought I looked as good as Jason and wished I could join him and his men on one of their fantastic journeys. Julie nodded her approval as I spun and danced with joy.

My party was in full swing. Nearly all my class mates, both boys and girls had come, as well as Julie’s girlfriends who after all I’d known all my life. It was these older girls who organised and supervised the games, the music and the fun. Most of the boys who came wore some form of fancy dress; super-heroes, cowboys, robots etc, whilst a few of the girls had also dressed as cartoon characters or animals. We all looked fantastic as we charged around the garden and I loved the way my costume hung from my shoulder, the material soft and looking completely unique. I was enjoying having something so special that had been made especially for me and was constantly imagining myself back in mythological times and being the favourite of one of the Athenian gods.

One of the last people to arrive was Simon. At first I didn’t recognise him as he stood at the door gripping his mother’s hand. In fact, it was only because I recognised Mrs McKay that it quickly dawned on me who this nervous little girl was who held on to her so tightly. His hair was so much longer, he kept his eyes cast down in a shy, nervous kind of way and tried not to look at me.

Mrs McKay was all smiles, “Wish Danni a Happy Birthday poppet.” He wriggled uncertainly as he clutched his mum with one hand and held a gift in the other. “Happy Birthday,” she continued before he son could say anything. “My you do look pretty Danni, is that a special birthday outfit you’re wearing?”

I nodded as I took in the way Simon was dressed, he looked like a little girl. His jumper was pink with a large blue and pink butterfly on the front. His shorts were pale pink and covered in a blue and yellow butterfly design, which were held up with two matching straps over his shoulders that crossed at the back. His pink socks had ruffles at the ankle and he wore pink plastic sandals, which he nervously scuffed along the floor. I took all this in as he timidly whispered his “Happy Birthday” and offered me his gift.

Hello Si… erm…” I wasn’t sure what to call him but I went ahead anyway. “Hello Simon I’m so glad you could make it.”

He looked up hesitantly and there was a fleeting smile. I held out my hand for him to take. “C’mon let’s get to the party.”

He checked with his mother to make sure it was OK. She released his hand. “Enjoy yourself poppet… try not to make a mess of your clothes… go and join your friends.”

Simon was definitely not the boisterous little lad who had played with me on that sunny weekend all those weeks ago. He walked slowly and hesitantly into the crowd and seemed relieved that none of his former school friends appeared to recognise him. He stuck close to me throughout the party but didn’t join in any of the games. It was strange that all the other boys ignored him but the girls wanted him to be in their group. He looked quite fearful when Julie and her friends came over to say ‘hello’.

Hello Simone,” they chorused. “You do look pretty.” “Love the butterflies.” “What lovely hair” and a host of similar comments interspersed with giggles. He had shut his eyes to what was being said and looked like he was on the verge of tears. I took him away from everyone and asked him what was wrong.

Mum likes me better as a girl,” he sobbed. “Since Julie and her friends dressed me up,” he paused as he wiped the snot from his nose, “mum won’t let me be a boy. I have to wear girl’s clothes”

I tried to calm him but I didn’t have much to say. He looked at the shiny tunic I was wearing and said. “She’s done it to you as well…”

At no point had I thought what I was wearing was anything but heroic. Jason and loads of Greek heroes wore similar things but his comment jolted my image of myself. He put his hand on my padded bum.

I have to wear knickers now… and… and…” He was still trying to get it out between sobs, “and sleep in a… a nappy and… a… a… nightie.” He buried his face in the crook of his arm and tried to hold back more tears.

It was obviously upsetting the poor boy but alas to me none of this seemed a hardship as I’d been living like that all my life. However, I could see he was distressed so I hugged him close. Then in the quietest of voices he confessed he hadn’t wanted to come as he was scared of Julie and her friends and what they might do or say. However, his mum thought it was time he should be out and about (whether he wanted to or not) and had insisted he came. He said he was glad to see me again.

He pulled at his tight-fitting butterfly shorts and said he wished he could wear his old briefs as the lacy ones he had to wear rode up and were so uncomfortable. I had liked it when I first met Simon and we’d charged around in just our shorts and had water-pistol fights and got ourselves thoroughly wet through, but I liked him now as well, it made no difference to me how he dressed and I told him so. I said I thought he looked nice. There was a faint smile from him and he seemed to become a bit more confident as we looked each other over. He rubbed the front of my shiny golden nappy and whispered that he thought I looked like “that Greek hero off the TV”, which brought a huge grin and a twirl from me.

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 7

Chapter 9

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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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Not so secret

Not so secretIsland and Naoki were having a great time at the sleep over just enjoying a nice game of pokemon. When all of a sudden a parental voice calls from the hall shocking both boys in the process. Looks like two little secrets came out.

Characters belongs to island and FunpalsTiger

Draw by Blankie

Source: https://inkbunny.net/s/1930071

Good thing them both are in need of wearing some good night time protection :)

But it seems like they already wearing it but have not notes each others special underwear. 

A bet they suddenly got a lot of new stuff to talk about and share :)

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Kenny Part 18

This story is written by Les Lea

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

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

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

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


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

“Do you miss your mummy?”

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

“Do you think Jake does as well?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

“Is that… erm… is that, your daddy?”

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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


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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

This story is written by Les Lea

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

Chapter 17

Chapter 19

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Kenny Part 17

This story is written by Les Lea

Although Mrs Morrison had seen me naked, and changed me, on several occasions and Kenny had done the same, I wasn’t too sure if it was acceptable for her to see that we did this together. I was nervous and unsure as to whether she might see this as something best friends should not do to one and other.

“I’m changing Simon…” he replied without missing a beat, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do, “he’s had a bit of an accident in his onesie.”

As Mrs Morrison came down the stairs I tried to cover my naked awkwardness with my hand but Kenny said it was getting in the way as he folded a thick diaper under my bottom. I could see her getting closer and then I noticed a smile on her face.

“Does your onesie need a wash Simon? I was red in the face, and it felt like my entire body was flushing a bright red with embarrassment but I suppose the lotion and the baby powder hid the tell-tale glow. I nodded as Kenny pulled the diaper tight around my waist and pinned me in.

He stood up, “Oh mummy,” he said as he unzipped his own dinosaur skin, “can you please do mine as well?”

She took it and ruffled his fine blond hair. “No more monsters versus super-bunnies for today then?”

“No, we’ll find another game to play…” He continued to make sure the diaper fitted me well but left unsaid exactly what that would be.

As she climbed back up the stairs to do her latest batch of washing she appeared not to notice that he was standing in his own soaked pull-ups.


I watched as she went up the stairs, slightly relieved that she hadn’t said anything but at the top she turned, looked at me and said. “Will you take care of Kenny or do you want me to?”

Kenny was sorting through the pile of items that he’d brought down to the basement. I looked across at him and thought the whole idea of this weekend was that we’d do things together and suddenly realised that it was OK to look after my friend anyway that was needed.

“No, it’s OK Mrs Morrison… I’ll sort him out.” I smiled to myself suddenly comprehending I had this unwritten, but totally acceptable, permission by the family to look after their son as they did. Such a revelation made me very happy and I wriggled in my nice, clean, thick diaper and felt even more warm and fuzzy towards the Morrisons.


Kenny returned and presented several different options for me to wear but I suggested that before we start our new game of ‘dressing-up’, it might be a good idea for me to get him out of his wet pull-ups and into something clean and fresh like I was wearing. He said he was in no rush to change as he quite liked the full and damp feeling but I stated in no uncertain terms that I didn’t want him to get a diaper rash and be uncomfortable. So, as it was something I wanted, he let me go to it.

There is no doubt that the sensation of having a thick diaper between your legs and tightly pinned in place is very comforting. I know that there are many (Jake I’m sure being one of them) who wouldn’t see it that way but, I’d be happy just to wear nothing but that all day. I liked it even more when I’d got Kenny all cleaned up and wrapped up in a nice thick terry diaper and nothing else, it made me feel we were starting our childhood together all over again and wearing only our diapers… I liked that.


When I was laid out on the floor being changed I’d seen a ping pong ball lying under the sofa so suggested a game of table tennis. We hadn’t played much because we’d lost the ball but now I’d found it, we started our match. Running around in just our diapers was fun and even though they were pinned into position fairly tightly, they kept slipping down a bit with our efforts. He was loads better than I was and beat me very easily, so I suggested that on the next match we play he had to have some kind of handicap. I put on a pair of tight-fitting rubber pants, which I hoped would hold up my diaper better, whilst I altered the pins on his diaper so they were a lot looser. We were both laughing as he served and had to quickly tug up his falling diaper, so he ended up playing the entire game one-handed, trying to hold it in place. In the last few points he let it slip, kicked it to the side and finished the game naked… he still won.

I hugged the victor and he hugged me back, his naked flesh coming into contact with my ample cushioned safeguard. He held me for a few extra seconds, rubbing against my rubber pants and said how much he liked the feel of me, and how fantastic I looked charging around returning his plays. I smiled and stroked his bare bottom and suggested that perhaps we should get him in something, maybe there was something in the pile of stuff he’d brought down.


First thing I did was put him in a disposable and once I was happy with that checked on what else was on offer. Of course I should have known that the clothes that auntie had made for us both were there and I could tell that he was keen to wear them again. I slipped my green quilted diaper cover on him and pulled the Velcro tight. He looked fine just like that but I finished dressing him in the green shirt and shorts. I’m sure, if we’d had it (and it hadn’t been a dream), he’d have liked to see me in the pink quilted onesie, however, there were his pink clothes and I think we both wanted to see me in all of those.

There’s no doubt about it, we did look like a couple of toddlers ready for a special event but the fact that we saw our outfits as complimentary, made us feel… joyful. Again, Kenny and I had this special intuition between us and often things weren’t said, just sort of… understood. It was a lot later than I thought and I heard auntie, who’d arrived to take me home, at the door.

“Simon, your auntie’s here.” Mrs Morrison called down the stairs. “No rush… but just make sure you have everything.”

We emerged from the basement and I think auntie was shocked but delighted to see us dressed in her creations. Both she and Mrs Morrison were all smiles of approval and both thought we looked ‘special’, and, as the lady’s made a fuss, we felt ‘special’.


“Oh, you two look adorable.” Mrs Morrison said and insisted on taking a photo of us with her cell phone.

Once again Kenny’s mummy was very complimentary about what auntie had done and asked if she did it for a living. On finding out she only did it for fun, and for her family, she was astounded that such creativity was not available to everyone. She was of the opinion that auntie would have loads of customers if she ever decided to set up in business. I think this pleased auntie, who was sat at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and some of the cookies that we’d baked earlier, and appeared to be blushing slightly under such praise.

Meanwhile, as they talked, we returned to Kenny’s room to get my things together. I wondered about my white onesie but he said that if it wasn’t dry, he’d bring it in to school in the morning. As I was packing I noticed our reflection in the mirror; two young lads, in matching shirt and shorts, one dark and one blond and an electrify thrill ran down my spine as I just wanted everything to stay the same. Me and Kenny, together, wearing our ‘special’ outfits, padded and unbelievably happy… I didn’t think it could get any better. He meant the world to me and I hoped I meant the same to him, and, from the sweet kiss he gave me before we headed to the kitchen, I guess I did.


After exchanging cell phone numbers Mrs Morrison sent the photo of us together direct to auntie, which seemed like the cue to leave. Under my pink shorts I was wearing the thick diaper and pink quilted cover that belonged to Kenny, whilst he was wearing my things and it just seemed right. Mrs Morrison gave me a bag with some of my homemade cookies (and I suspect some of hers and Kenny’s) and a plastic bag which contained my onesie (she said it was still slightly damp that’s why she’d wrapped it separately).

As we had to collect Jake on the way home, and we were already running late, I hugged Mrs Morrison my thanks for such an entertaining weekend. The awareness of my Kenny inspired, bulky protection, squeezing me back felt fantastic, which of course she patted several times before she released me from her embrace. Before I clambered into auntie’s car Kenny gave me a last hug and said he’d see me in class in the morning. He also giving my bum a final pat and whispered how much he’d loved playing with ‘Monster Easter Bunny’ and couldn’t wait to have more adventures with him.


When we arrived Jake was waiting at the gate with Adam and I was suddenly struck by the possibility of those two having the same kind of relationship Kenny and I had. They did look fantastic together and if by choice or by accident they both appeared to be wearing complimentary outfits. As we got closer I realised that the ‘complimentary’ outfits were the same, they were supporting the same soccer team so of course they wore matching jerseys. I felt silly for letting my imagination run wild and strangely got very protective of what Kenny and I had and didn’t want to share that ‘special’ closeness… even with my brother and Adam.

This feeling quickly passed as Jake demanded to sit in the front passenger seat on the way home (it was his turn to ride shotgun) and I had to get out and get in the back, though not before I’d said ‘Hello’ to Adam and, acknowledging the soccer kit, ask him who won. He shyly said that they were on the same side but that their team had scored ten, Jake having scored six of them. He didn’t say what his contribution was but that bashful look down and finding interest in his trainers was a very winning aspect. He did look gorgeous but I noticed that there was no hugging, and certainly no kissing or patting of bums, as Jake said his farewell, climbed into his seat and, with a little wave, we set off home.

I couldn’t wait to show everybody the fabulous DVD that Mrs Morrison had made of our weekend at the lake and hoped that they would be as proud as I was of her fantastic commentary. They all loved it and the sighs as mum and auntie saw each photograph of Kenny and I together made me feel proud. There was even a more audible, emotional sound when the image of us in our thick rubber pants appeared on the screen but Jake just asked why we wearing ‘space pants’? I jokingly told him that they were special pajamas boys had to wear at the lake in case they sleepwalked and fell in. That made mum and auntie laugh, although I could tell that Jake wasn’t too sure but as we were quickly on to a different image of the boy scouts, his questions turned to be about them.

We laughed at Mrs Morrison’s very funny script and auntie said that it was lovely that people had such hidden talent. Mum agreed and we all watched the DVD a second time. The scenery was breath-taking and we all agreed that at the earliest opportunity we should all go up to the lake on our next break, perhaps spending more than just a weekend there. Jake wanted to go to the scout’s jamboree but I told him I didn’t think that it was on all the time, or the fireworks but that I’m sure we’d have a brilliant time no matter.

When we’d finished it was time for bed and I took the DVD back to my room. My thoughts were really about Kenny and me in our thick rubber protection and just how much I’d enjoyed that particular experience. That night I slept in a couple of pairs of pull-ups covered with a pair of plastic pants and they were topped by the rubber ones I had in my collection. It was huge but it didn’t feel the same and I wondered if it was because of the company and the closeness that Kenny and I had enjoyed.


However, that week I only wore briefs to school because Kenny was dry and didn’t feel the need to pad up anymore. He did say that he occasionally put on pull-ups or a diaper to sleep in because he found it comforting, so of course, I did the same. Mind you, these days I would have done that anyway as I’d found that I felt the same when I was getting ready for bed… that padding, even slight padding, made me feel safe and secure.

One night, as he was playing on the Xbox, Jake had fallen asleep on my bed. He’d got himself half ready as he was only wearing his little Thomas the Tank Engine briefs but the game must have dragged him in and he just couldn’t stop trying for those extra levels. Unfortunately, this little gamer had been too tired and just fell asleep. I didn’t want to disturb him as he looked so peaceful but, feeling a bit naughty, I slipped him into a pair of pull-ups like I was wearing. After all, both Kenny and I found them nice to sleep in. He hardly noticed what was going on, just twitching slightly as I manoeuvred him into position, and I happily pulled the blanket over us both and dozed off hugging his warm, slightly padded, bottom.

In the morning I was up and in the bathroom first and had really forgotten all about what I’d done when a bleary-eyed Jake wandered in. He suddenly realised what he was wearing and, having no idea I’d put them on him, wondered how and why he was wearing pull-ups. I pretended not to notice but I could tell he was more than a little confused but didn’t know who to ask about it. He knew he’d slept in my bed but didn’t know whether it was me, mum or auntie who’d added that finishing padded touch… or why… had he wet himself?

Eventually, I explained, rather deviously I thought, that he’d fallen asleep but I’d notice the empty glass, which I assumed he’d drunk, and as a precaution against ‘aaaccidents’ (I stressed the word) had slipped the pants on because he looked so peaceful I didn’t want to wake him and make him return to his own room.


Although he seemed to accept my explanation, when I thought about what I’d done I saw that there may have been another factor to my actions. I had seen Adam and Jake together and thought of them as a younger version of Kenny and myself… and… as I’d already seen Adam wearing a diaper (and being fascinated by others who did) I wondered if I was doing it to help the friendship between him and my brother. After all, hadn’t Kenny said that it was that very action of me wearing a diaper in sympathy with him that had led to us becoming best friends?

Once I thought a bit more I realised that I didn’t know whether Jake was even aware of Adam’s wetting problem and even if he did whether he’d be the type of friend to show such understanding. No, the truth of the matter was I just wanted to see my growing younger brother wearing pull-ups as I doubted very much if I’d ever get him into any kind of diaper. He may have gotten used to me wearing them about the house, to school or under my pajamas but I doubted he had any inclination towards that at all. However, I noticed that he hadn’t ripped them off in disgust and that, after washing, he was still wearing them as he padded back to his own room to get ready for school.

Nonetheless, as we sat down for breakfast I could tell that he wasn’t wearing them anymore and, for some silly reason, it saddened me. I had obviously hoped that I would kindle some kind of desire in him for diapers and such things but he wasn’t interested.


Mum seemed to be flying back and forth to her head office more and more and, although auntie was staying with us, I began to wonder if the decision to stay in Oakland had been the right one. We were seeing less and less of her and it appeared to be getting her down a bit, even though she was trying hard not to show it. I was alarmed when, with a break from school coming up, Mum announced that we’d all be spending part of our vacation in the capital. Again I began to worry and, as a result, my night time wetting got worse. I asked mum if this ‘trip’ was actually just that or were we all scouting for a new place to live and go to school. Although she denied it, I wasn’t convinced by her answer and her pleading eyes told me there was something else going on… or at least I thought so.

Mum was tired so I didn’t press the point although I did sort of suggest that we, meaning Jake and me, thought we’d be going up to the lake this time but she just shook her head and with a half-smile ruffled my hair and said “Another time”.

That night I had a nightmare where I was stranded alone in an empty space. I was calling out names but nobody answered or came to help and I was scared because the place was so strange. I was furtively creeping about and kept standing in pools of water but didn’t know where they were springing from. The room was getting darker and more ominous and there were unexpected noises that made me shudder. My feet were splashing with each step when suddenly I was grabbed from behind, something was wrapped around my throat and I began to choke.


I woke up gasping for air as I’d somehow got caught up in my sheet. I was shaking in fear as I untangled myself and turned on the bedside light. Good heavens, my bed was in a right state with the sheet, blanket and pillows thrown all over the place and I could tell that I really had wet my bed pretty badly… perhaps the splashing in puddles had been a warning. I sat on the edge of the bed still trembling in my soaked pull-ups trying to calm myself before continuing. I wasn’t sure what to do.

No one came. Part of me was sad about that as I really could have done with some comforting and a hug from mum would have been reassuring. However, I was pleased that on this occasion at least I hadn’t made too much noise and woken up the house due to my night terrors. Eventually I got up and stripped the bed. I was glad of the waterproof sheet that mum had covered my mattress in after my last accident so wiping up the excess puddles with a towel was easy. The pull-ups sagged and working in them was a strange experience because they were still warm. Eventually, once the bed was stripped and as dry as I could make it I shrugged my soggy pants down, wiped myself dry and applied some lotion before finishing off with a generous sprinkling of powder. I realised this wasn’t a time for minor changes (I was afraid it might happen again), so, I got out the thickest diaper I had and, with some difficulty, pinned myself in. I sorted through my closet and also found a thick pair of rubber pants and pulled them over the enormous mound… but at least I felt protected. I pulled on a clean t-shirt, found my sleeping bag, spread it out on my water-proofed bed and zipped myself in. I’d sort everything else out in the morning.

This story is written by Les Lea

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

Chapter 16

Chapter 18

(Visited 143 times, 1 visits today)

Kenny Part 16

This story is written by Les Lea

“Simon. Simon. SIMON.” I felt a slight touch on my arm. “Are you OK?”

I looked at Kenny wondering why he wasn’t naked. Then I looked down at myself and wondered why I wasn’t in the quilted pink onesie. Why were we still dressed?

I felt a strange chill run down my spine as I realised it was when Kenny had said that he thought I looked really good in the rubber pants at the lake and wondered if I liked them as well… I had become transfixed.

I was gazing at the framed photographs and that particular image of us at the lake, looking both innocent and well-padded, had caught my imagination and I hadn’t realised how intently I’d been staring at it. Somehow, in just a few seconds, I’d drifted off into my own fantasy and had created…

“I thought you’d gone quiet.” Kenny interrupted my thoughts and had that all-knowing smile. He picked up the frame. “You really like that photo don’t you? It’s my favourite as well. I think we look fantastic together. Mummy always says she thought we were the cutest people up at the lake.”

I was still slightly confused by what had just happened. How could I go to such a real place… that wasn’t real? I just didn’t understand what my head was doing… had I seen the future?

“Do you have a pink onesie?” I asked.

“Of course… don’t you remember… you’ve worn it.”

“No… I mean a new one…” I was getting a bit worried about myself, “made from the same material that auntie made our quilted diapers from?”

“That sounds fantastic… but… erm… no. Why do you ask?”

I then explained what I’d just experienced and he was spellbound by my little story. His eyes lit up when I described him fitting me with disposables and rubber pants. When I told him about the shiny onesie he sucked in a deep breath through his teeth in appreciation of such a piece of clothing… and of course he wanted one.

When I’d finished he asked if I’d had other such ‘daydreams’ and I began to tell him about my crying when Adam was in distress, but rather guiltily, changed the name to his. I still worried that he’d be jealous if someone else was in my dreams. I told him how I’d wet the bed and how auntie had calmed me down with a thick diaper and rubber pants… and the ‘daydream/nightmare’ had disappeared once I was surrounded by that comforting hug.

Kenny took his cue and immediately gave me a reassuring squeeze.


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

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

Now I was even more confused… hadn’t that already happened? I was about to say something to Kenny when he began to get undressed. As he did so he turned to me just before he shrugged down his shorts.

“Mmmm, shall we play your game?” I looked at him wondering what he meant. “I dress you for bed and you dress me.” He went to his closet and opened it up and told me to use whatever I liked.

The problem I have with Kenny is… I like him in anything. That first time I saw him on my first day of school when he was wearing his uniform, he looked so… fantastic. In fact, in his uniform, in his soccer kit, in his swimming trunks, in a thick diaper and thick rubber pants, it made absolutely no difference… it was Kenny and he always looked good. However, a sudden thought crossed my mind: Why had I worn the pink quilted onesie in my ‘fantasy’ when it was supposed to be Kenny’s, and, I wondered, why had I been crying when it was supposed to be Adam?

His shorts fell to the floor and he stepped out of them, folded them up and placed them on a shelf in his closet. Now he was just in his briefs and I just wanted to tell him to stay as he was but I knew he liked to get padded for bed. When he’d stayed over at my place he loved the onesies but then I remembered, it was auntie who had encouraged us what to wear. We liked them but it wasn’t our choice, this time I wanted him to know how I liked to see him.

He pulled off his briefs and, as I anticipated, put them in the laundry basket. I unfolded the plastic changing mat and set it out next to his bed and told him to lie out. I grabbed the baby lotion and powder and set to work moisturizing as much of him as I thought I could get away with. He giggled throughout the process and encouraged me to shake more and more baby powder all over him. The dust cloud was impressive and he smelled like a little baby – we both loved it. I then went to the closet and just grabbed four items – a disposable diaper, two thick absorbing pads and a pair of pink pop-sided plastic pants. This was how I imagined Kenny was at his best; thickly padded and with shiny plastic protection covering everything. Once I’d prepared that area I went and found a little pale blue t-shirt in his draw and pulled it over his head, fed his arms through and tugged it down so it just reached the top of his diaper… he looked so sweet.

I’m sure he was expecting more but, as I ran my hands constantly over the tight glass-smooth material, enjoying the bulk and the childish, excited, delighted look on his face, in my mind at least, this was how my best friend should be dressed when he went to bed.

“Perfect,” I smiled at him and caressed the front of his straining plastic pants “just perfect.”


He lay there and let me stroke him, neither of us in a rush to alter what was happening. As my fingers traced around the bulging mound and slid over the shiny material I saw a contented smile appear on Kenny’s face as he closed his eyes whilst enjoying the moment.

In the months that I’d known him he’d introduced me to a completely new way of appreciating my own life. He may be only ten years-old but he knew in absolute certainty what he liked. He’d initiated a love in me that, until I met him and discovered his diapers, I didn’t have any clue about. It was that feel of the plastic that had hit me first. When, up on the playing fields and he’d shown me his ‘protection’… I loved the soft silky texture and couldn’t get enough of just touching it. The fact that it hid a diaper was a bonus and it intrigued me… Kenny intrigued me.

He must have spotted something in me as well otherwise why would we have become friends… best friends? He told me once that none of his other pals, over the years he’d had to wear diapers to school, had ever wanted to wear them as well. To identify with his problem, to understand it, to try and make him feel better about it… but I had. Even without being asked I’d just done it and for that, Kenny said, he was eternally grateful; this was strange because it was I who felt eternally grateful to him for being my friend.

I lay down next to him but carried on stroking his slippery mound as I whispered a ‘Thank you’ in his ear. He opened his eyes and gazed into my own and we huddled up close together. We could have stayed like that forever, neither of us would have minded, but Kenny remembered that his mum would soon be coming in the check on us, so we’d better be in bed by then.


He rolled on top of me and again gave me a very gentle kiss on the lips before he grabbed my shorts and playfully pulled them down. My pull-ups were dragged off in the same movement and he mischievously flicked my little penis before he grabbed the nearby lotion. He squirted it all over and began to frantically rub it in. There was loads of the nicely smelling stuff so he used both his hands to try and get it to soak in by massaging it everywhere. This action was tickling me and his fingers were going all over my body in a desperate attempted to spread the lotion thinly enough for it to moisturize everything.

There was just too much of it to use on just my chest so, he scooped up as much as he could and got me to turn onto my front so he could rub it into my back, my legs and my bum until, at last, the stuff had soaked in enough for the next part of the procedure. He was very thorough, making sure it was all well absorbed and his hands smoothing the lotion on my bottom felt really very nice. Once he was satisfied (and I’d got over my squealing and giggling as his fingers delved everywhere) he went to the closet and grabbed the same items as I had retrieved, except I was going to be in a blue pair of pop-sided plastic pants. He fitted the absorbent pads inside the disposable and taped me in. Then he slipped the plastic pants under my bum, pulled the sides together and popped them shut. I was now as tightly fitted as he was. Of course he went and got a pink t-shirt for me to wear and made sure I looked like him.

Once we were both ready he said. “I really like it when we wear the same.” He looked at me with those beautiful eyes. “We are like one person – I am you and you are me. I’m so happy when we’re together” His eyes went a bit misty as he added. “It hurts when we’re apart.”

With Kenny looking at you it’s difficult to think of anything else but I think I did know what he meant. He ran his hand over my glossy mound and suggested we get in to bed before his mum came.


We lay facing each other in the dark. I couldn’t really make out his features but of course, my mind was happy to fill in the blank space; his blond hair, his long eyelashes, his huge eyes and constant smile, I didn’t need any light to see all that. We chatted a bit to begin with but eventually the silences between our exchanges were getting longer. I was even enjoying those gaps and had already pictured Kenny with his thumb in his mouth, dozing and looking angelic. My hand had never stopped stroking his thick protection from the moment we climbed into bed together and it was while I was enjoying this sensation I fell to sleep.

We were lying on our backs in his garden looking at the sky and pointing out the shapes the clouds were making. I had my head resting on his soft padded diaper and I was just telling him about what I thought was a cat chasing a mouse when we were joined by two others. Both were only wearing cloth diapers pinned at the front with a huge pin; one was blue the other one had pink. I didn’t recognise them as they both were kids our age but babies. The looked and acted like babies, each had a pacifier in their mouths so didn’t say anything but Kenny knew them.

“Hello mummy and daddy… have you come to play with us?”

This was stupid. How could they be his mummy and daddy but they waved to him and settled down on the ground next to us. His ‘mummy’ had her head on my diaper, his ‘daddy’ had his head on hers and Kenny now had his head resting on his ‘father’s’. We were all searching the clouds for ‘images’ but there were no words just excited pointing, gurgling, cooing and sucking on the pacifiers, which we now all had.

A strange dark shadow passed between the clouds and the sun and suddenly we all got a bit scared. The shadow got nearer and we panicked as we tried to run for shelter… except we could only crawl. The diapered bottoms of Kenny’s ‘mummy and daddy’ led the way, followed by Kenny, whose huge plastic bottom had me close behind. However, I turned to see what the shadow was and when I turned back the others had reached safety and I was alone, in the garden, and something was swooping down. I kicked out and screamed as an enormous pterodactyl screeched past me. I tried to fend it off but my arms were somehow trapped and all I could do was cry as it came in for the kill – its huge mouth wide open, row upon row of sharp teeth and slime oozing from its jaw.


“Simon. Simon. SIMON.” I felt the huge bird’s beak bite into my shoulder…

“Wake up Simon…” I felt the pressure again only this time I heard words… I was saved… I was…

“C’mon Simon… you’re having a nightmare…” and I could feel the rocking of a hand on my shoulder gently stirring me from my deep sleep.

I was lying on my stomach and somehow I’d managed to trap my hands under me. I could still hear that I was whimpering but that soft shaking of my shoulder was quickly returning me from the jaws of, whatever it was, and awake.

“Are you OK?” The look of concern on both Kenny’s and his mummy’s face told me I’d been making quite a bit of a disturbance. I was still feeling a bit groggy when Mrs Morrison came and sat on the bed next to me and stroked my brow.

“Well young man, you appear to have had a terrible nightmare.” I noticed that Kenny was looking really worried standing next to her in his thick plastic armour.

My whimpering had stopped and I felt silly as she continued to stroke my brow. “Sorry Mrs Morrison…”

“It’s OK Simon don’t worry… you’re safe now.”

“I was trying to save you from being attacked.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Me?”

“Well not just you. Kenny and Mr Morrison… except… erm…” I wasn’t sure if I should tell her about us all being babies. “Erm… it was a huge dinosaur… with big teeth and… and… it was attacking us.”

I was still a bit panicky. My body was soaked with sweat, my pounding heart had just about begun to slow down and I suddenly wondered if I’d done worse in my diaper.


It was as if Mrs Morrison had noticed my eyes casting a quick look to my diaper and had divined the same possibility. Without asking she said that she’d just check to make sure there was no further ‘damage’ and popped the studs on my plastic pants. She didn’t seem in the least bit phased by the bulkiness of it all but her exploring fingers down the front found that there had been other consequences to my nightmare.

She took charge and as Kenny looked on she had me stripped wiped, powdered and back in clean disposables in a matter of seconds. She fitted the blue plastic pants back into place and changed my soaked t-shirt for another.

“OK boys, back to bed.” Kenny slid in next to me.

“Sorry Kenny.” I whispered.

“It’s OK… I’ve never actually been kicked out of my own bed before,” and he gave me that wonderful, conspirator smile of his. “I’m sure I would have been eaten alive if you’d not kicked me to safety.” We both were hugging and giggling now.


I told him about the nightmare and about the appearance of his mummy and daddy as babies – he was fascinated by this idea. I explained that they never spoke a word just gurgled and pointed but that we understood everything that was being ‘said’. I explained that it was he who called them ‘mummy and daddy’ so that was the only way I knew who they were because, in reality, they didn’t look like any kids I actually knew.

We discussed this and many other questions my nightmare (and past dreams) might mean, or not. We didn’t get very far as we were both quite tired and soon we dropped off to sleep. This time Kenny was hugging me tightly and our plastic pants were crammed up close to each other… it felt nice and safe.

Thankfully, there were no more dramas during the night and we both woke up dry. It would appear that Kenny was going through one of his arid patches, while I was getting worse, though I didn’t want to say anything.


Before breakfast we went to the bathroom to get washed and ready for the day. Kenny went first and when I returned he was already dressed in his dinosaur onesie. He roared as I walked in and I pretended to be scared. For a couple of minutes he was growling and stomping around his room as if he was a T-Rex trying to catch me. My towel fell down and he scooped it up and pretended to eat it while I was left naked and cowering behind his bed.

My nakedness didn’t last too long as I noticed that he’d spread out a couple of pull-ups on the bed, which I realised were for me. I grabbed them and slipped them on as he slowly clawed his way towards the trembling figure who was squealing for some hero to come and save him/me.

More confident now I was padded I rushed to the closet where he’d hung up my onesie. As the lumbering dinosaur slowly advanced, I quickly slipped into my white outfit, zipped it up and, remembering a comment that Kenny had made in the past, told the dreaded T-Rex that he’d now have to deal with ‘Monster Easter Bunny’… the most awesome and scary bunny in the world.

This stopped him in his tracks and he burst into fits of giggles as I tried to make my white bunny onesie look fearsome… it didn’t work and pretty soon we were both rolling around on his bed laughing our heads off.


For the rest of the day this is how we were dressed. Mrs Morrison had said that we could play in the summer house if we wanted or in the basement or we could help her as she was going to spend the morning baking. I always liked helping my mum bake and, when I saw Kenny’s eyes light up at the prospect, I knew we were going to get some delicious, freshly-made cookies later in the day.

Mrs Morrison wanted a photograph of us together in our onesies – the dinosaur and the bunny, she thought we looked a strange but ‘magical’ (her words) couple as we set about mixing the various ingredients. We also started to come up with names for our product; Dinocookies, Bunnibiscuits, Monstermunchers etc. but we soon tired of that game as we gave our full attention to making a range of crumbly delights.

Once they were baking in the oven Kenny had an idea that we should create our own story based on a dinosaur and a rabbit. We’d already acted out part of the tale in his bedroom so I was given the job of writing it, while he would add the drawings.

This engrossed us more than we thought and we only stopped our creative process when his mummy arrived with a fresh batch of newly baked cookies and glasses of milk. This fuelled our imagination and soon we were having the two beasts stopping in the middle of their battle for a cookie break before resuming what appeared to be… world destruction.


The weather had been cold and cloudy with the promise of rain so we’d been happy to play indoors. Once we’d finished the story, and the milk and cookies, we went down to the basement to play some games there. I looked at Mr Morrison’s gym equipment and thought how much I’d like to have seen him doing a workout. Kenny had said that he used it occasionally and I immediately imagined him and his daddy powering away and sweating from the effort. I was amazed at how easily the image came into my mind except, and this was getting to be a theme, both were only wearing pull-ups to work out in. I’d seen Kenny in them on many occasions but didn’t understand why I would think of his father in such an item. Still, in my head at least, he looked fantastic as the two of them continued with their training program.

I needed to pee and although I was wearing a couple of pairs of pull-ups I didn’t really want to use them. I asked Kenny if I could use the bathroom in the corner and he seemed disappointed I didn’t want to use my double protection. I felt guilty but told him that I didn’t want to spend the rest of the day being wet. He suddenly had an idea.

“I’ll change you.” He smiled that terrific smile as if he’d solved a huge problem. “In fact,” I could see he had a further idea, “why don’t we do it together. Why not wet at the same time.”

He was overjoyed at the thought and, as he put his arm around my shoulders he whispered some naughty encouragement in my ear. Despite my reservations Kenny could get me to do anything and pretty soon I closed my eyes, as if in denial, but found myself letting go… he did the same.

I seemed to be peeing for ages and suddenly realised that the pull-ups were not absorbent enough to cope with the amount I had to get rid of. When I opened my eyes again I saw a yellow stain appearing on the front of my white onesie (so much for the fearsome Monster Bunny) and I felt ashamed. I also felt stupid and childish but Kenny, who didn’t appear to show any tell-tale signs on his onesie, smiled and said that he’d soon sort me out.

He rushed to his room and returned with a pile of stuff. First he suggested I strip and lie out on the floor. Thankfully the basement was quite warm so being naked wasn’t a trial. However, he decided he should help me remove everything and seemed to take a great deal of time and trouble unzipping me from the onesie. Once that was off he turned his attention to my soaked and sagging pull-ups and slowly inched them down my legs. Soon I was naked. He wiped me down with a towel and, once I was dry, sprinkled the stuff all over me. He was taking his time but appeared to be very thorough rubbing it in, making sure that no area was left without a coating of the sweet smelling powder.

His mummy suddenly appeared at the top of the basement stairs and shouted down. “What are you boys up to?”

I froze.

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 15

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Bedtime Pants

Bedtime PantsLooks like Masika is gonna need his bedtime pants tonight.

The furry belongs to rocketwuffpup

Draw by Blankie

Source: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/31654873/

Looks like someone wants to make sure that the bed his sleeps in is going to be dry all night. It sure is good of this boy to be thinking ahead :)

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Pikachu and Lucario – Satuki_rabbit

Pikachu and Lucario - Satuki_rabbitDraw and everything by

Poor Lucario it seems like Pikachu have found out that he have some bedwetting problems :(

But poor Pikachu dont seems to be in the right mind right now to think about that. His mind and thought seems to be someplace else. Or maybe he like the squishy feelings from Lucario wet diaper?

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