School

The Nurse’s office

The Nurse's officePoor little BandaidRoo was sent to the Nurse’s office again with another soaking wet diaper. It’s a good thing it’s always stocked with all different sizes.

Order by BandaidRoo

Draw and above text by Wen

Source: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/32128279/

Awww but it sure is a good thing that the school nurse seems to be well prepared when it comes to diaper in all kind of sizes. Looks like BandaidRoo is not the only one wearing diapers in this school.

So i bet the nurse is a expert in diaper changing routines :)

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Wrong Undies Part 1

Wrong Undies Part 1“What we have here? oh, i don’t think you’re going to the classroom without protection, lill one. “

“A hah, knew there was something missing… no problem, let’s get these out before they get ruined, and something good for you is coming… Now, no fussy… or we’re going to principal’s after this…

Draw and everything by gus-the-hedgehog

Source: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/32081870/

Awww looks like this school have some special rules about what kind of underwear you have to wear and it seems like this poor skunk is wearing the wrong kind.

I bet someone is going to be even more fussy when he see the diaper.

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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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Kenny Part 20

This story is written by Les Lea

Monday morning and I was up bright and early. Even though the weather had turned a bit gloomy I was very excited about going back to school and seeing Kenny again, I had so much to tell him and, I suspect, he had loads to tell me. Perhaps, for the first time, I didn’t mind my schoolboy uniform. I had realised what an important part it had played in me and Kenny becoming friends and now, I was eager to wear it again, a sort of acknowledgement of what our friendship meant to me.

Yesterday, when we’d arrived home, I had already written most of my report which I was eager to deliver to Miss Pendle. I’d been making notes every night in a diary and it had been easy to copy out and make into a pretty good essay, even if I do say so myself. Of course I didn’t mention everything. I didn’t mention my crying or wetting myself or… or… the bully and his mates (or Jake shoving him in the pool) but I did mention all the things we visited. I was quite pleased with it and looked forward to sharing its contents with Kenny. I know I was excited at the prospect of hearing all about his exploits while away.

As usual my uniform was already laid out waiting for me and as I returned from the bathroom I was in a bit of a dilemma as to what to wear under the shorts. I’d worn a mixture of briefs or pull-ups whilst we were away, even though I’d been wearing only my briefs to school before the break. However, I wanted to show some kind of affinity to our early experiences together, and thought that Kenny might appreciate the new purple quilted diaper cover that auntie had made for me. To be honest it worked better the thicker the diaper underneath it covered; it made it tight and full and looked shiny and sheer. Without a thick diaper it looked a bit cumbersome but I pulled the sides tight, the Velcro ripping as I kept readjusting until I was happy with my reflection. It still wasn’t perfect but I’d decided that I wanted to wear it on its own on this occasion. I also liked the slight rustling noise it made when I walked and when I had my grey shorts pulled up I thought no one would be able to tell what I was wearing.

***

I arrived at school and was looking around for Kenny. Jake had gone off to meet his friends (who mobbed him and seemed happy to see his return) even Adam, who sheepishly waved to me, was soon engulfed in the posse of third and fourth graders who swamped my brother. Still I couldn’t see Kenny anywhere. I asked a few of his mates from the various teams that he played for but no one had seen him. Like me they had only got the answering machine when I’d called the night before, so that didn’t help any.

As we went into class I handed in my report to Miss Pendle and asked if she knew where Kenny was. She looked around and seemed surprised he wasn’t there but suggested that he may have been held up if his plane got in late. This partially put my mind at rest but I was uneasy not having my best friend nearby. It was strange because I couldn’t really concentrate on my morning lessons and at break, with still no Kenny, I began to worry. I begged Miss Pendle to find out what had happened and she said she would try and get me an answer.

She returned with the news that the Principal had received a call saying that the Morrisons had been held up in the UK, although she didn’t specify for what reason. Although she did try to put my worries aside when she said that in Europe, they were always having strikes and disputes that affected the airlines. I hoped this was the case but I was still getting quite emotional that he wasn’t around.

***

I spent lunch time sitting with a few friends of Kenny’s but hardly contributed much to the chatter. When we returned to class Miss Pendle had marked everyone’s essays and addressed the twenty faces that were looking up at her.

“I’d like to thank everyone for doing such incredible work and writing such amazing accounts about what you’ve all been doing in your break.” She looked around the room and added in a conspiritol tone, “Some of you have had a very exciting time.”

I was quite distracted in my thoughts as to what had happened to Kenny so wasn’t really paying too much attention to what she was saying. Suddenly I heard my name called and I was summoned to the front of the class. I was dreading that she must have some further news about Kenny but she was beaming a huge smile.

“However, I’d like to ask Simon here to read his to you all. You may remember he had us spellbound with one of his earlier stories and I think this report of his visit to the capital deserves for everyone to hear it.”

She handed me back my pages and I was stunned to see ‘A+’ circled at the top of my paper.

“I think you have done really well,” she quietly encouraged me, “I thoroughly enjoyed reading it and I’d like the rest of your classmates to hear about you experiences.”

Unexpectedly I was consumed by nerves. I could feel the plastic interior of my purple quilted diaper cover fill with sweat and, without Kenny on hand to offer some kind of support, I wasn’t sure I could go through with it. The moist, slickness and slipperiness of the plastic next to my skin sent a strange feeling to my head. I knew it was something I liked but at that moment I just wasn’t sure. I hummed and shuffled the pages a bit whilst I tried to compose my feelings. Miss Pendle was still smiling and reassuring but there was something else in my head as a wriggled and tried to rearrange things in my shorts.

My anxiety returned and I suddenly worried that I might wet myself in front of the entire class. As I tugged at my shorts, the shiny quilted cover slipped down slightly displaying the shiny purple edging around the top of my legs and could be seen by anyone who looked. However, that minor change in the way the cover fit sent a shiver of excitement as it released the snugness from around my penis. The sensation was like an electric charge caressing my leg and I heard myself make an audible noise (that wasn’t the start of my story) so, to try and cover that strange sound, I hesitantly began my report.

***

Something had happened in my pants. I wasn’t sure what but I was hopeful it wasn’t pee. I sort of dreaded that there would be a trickle down the inside of my thighs but, as the sensual feeling dulled, I grew more confident in my story, I realised that, although those who could see would see my purple pants hanging down, thankfully nothing else would be visible. After all, this class had seen both Kenny and myself wearing thick diapers and no one had batted an eyelid. So, as I got into the report my self-assurance grew and I became more animated in the telling.

They all sat attentive as I told them of all the monuments we had visited. They laughed as I told them about Jake’s encounter with dinosaurs at the museum and how he greeted each one with a growl and wondered if he shouldn’t have put on his dinosaur onesie to meet them. There was a chorus of “Typical Jake” and “That’s Jake for you” and once again I realised just what a popular boy my brother was… everyone knew him. With my final words I looked up and was suddenly depressed because there was no one at the desk where Kenny normally sat. However, there was a surprising spontaneous cheer and wild applause that brought me back to the real world.

Even Miss Pendle was clapping me. “That was excellent Simon,” she patted my… well… what felt like my unbelievably slippery bottom and sent me back to my seat. “I think we can all agree that our Simon…” the applause continued, “may one day be a famous writer.”

I returned to my seat having never experienced anything like it before. I was getting pats on the back and ‘Well dones” from all my class mates and I could feel my squishy plastic diaper cover offering a different thrill as I sat and humbly wondered what had happened… and wishing that Kenny had been there to hear it.

***

By Wednesday there was still no sign of Kenny so I asked both mum and auntie if they would call his mother and find out what was happening. They didn’t really want to disturb the family in the UK but saw how distressed I was getting (and perhaps worried that they may have been some further wetting problems on the horizon) mum eventually called Mrs Morrison’s cell.

Mum talked for ages, I wasn’t able to hear all that was being said and my requests to speak with Kenny were always received with a shake of the head as she continued the conversation. Eventually she put the phone down and said she was sorry, but Kenny hadn’t been around to chat he was still in Edinburgh with his grandfather, while they were in London trying to sort out all manner of visas and late return flights. Apparently, Mr Morrison’s father, Kenny’s grandfather, had insisted that his grandson should be taught in one of Scotland’s top boarding schools. It had been something he hadn’t been able to do for his own sons because of the divorce and he had no money, but now he was a successful businessman, he wanted to at least try and give his grandchildren some advantages.

***

Mr McDorran had been married to Pearl for six years when they divorced. He had an affair with a barmaid and Pearl took her two sons; John, who was 5 and the eldest and Gordon, Kenny’s daddy, who was then 3 years old to start a new life. Pearl met and married an American, Thomas Morrison, and they returned to his home town of Oakland in the USA. Over the years, Mr McDorran continued his wild and impetuous lifestyle until ten years later he met and married his current wife, Margret Magraw. She was more than a match for him and steered him into a new fledgling business that over the years proved to be very successful. Mr and Mrs McDorran were now very wealthy and very well respected but the one regret he had was his abandonment of his two sons. With his wife’s encouragement he set about tracing them and try to make amends. Eventually he tracked down Gordon, it was just after his son Kenny was born, and offered help. That first approach was immediately rejected. However, as Gordon and John had stayed in close contact, and he didn’t see why he should deny his brother the contact he’d rejected, he did offer his father an address by which he could get in touch his eldest.

John, who after a very turbulent child and early adulthood, was now living as a woman called Joanne in a nearby town. She broke down on meeting her father after all this time and was most grateful for the help he offered. So, to some extent, the healing had begun. It took Gordon a further ten years before he was anywhere near forgiving his father but, as his mother and step-father were dead, thought he should at least try to form some kind of bridge between them. This visit was supposed to be that bridge.

***

A cold shiver ran down my spine as I realised what mum was telling me – I may never see Kenny again. I burst into tears and, despite both mum’s and auntie’s comforting arms, was quite inconsolable. I ran, bleary-eyed to my room and threw myself down on my bed, the bed where Kenny and I had snuggled and hugged and kissed together, and let out a roar of pain that I didn’t know I had in me.

I lay sobbing for what seemed like ages unable to come to terms with the fact that Kenny had moved on without me. I alternated between anger and sadness and wasn’t sure which took priority as I stared at the treasured framed photographs on my desk top of us two together.

Eventually, mum’s calming and soothing fingers stroking my hair and whispering understanding words sent me off to sleep. My mind must have put the trauma I was feeling on hold as I slept right through until morning and I was still in the same, fully-clothed position I was in when I threw myself onto the bed.
I really didn’t want to get up and go to school, but, in our house at least, that wasn’t going to be an option.

***

Mum had set out my uniform while I’d slept and I could hear the rest of the family getting up and ready for the day ahead. The shower washed away some of my sadness and the appearance of Jake at the bathroom door looking as upset as I was came as a surprise. As I got out of the warming spray he came over and hugged me tightly, he also had tears in his eyes and said that we’d all miss Kenny. It was then that I understood that Kenny had made a huge impression on all the family. It wasn’t only me that was depressed it was everyone. It was everyone who knew him yet it was me who he’d made his best friend. It was me who was special to him and I’m sure if he’d had a choice, he would have chosen Oakland… and me.

I wondered into the kitchen and saw that mum was re-reading my ‘A+’ report on our trip to the capital. She had tears in her eyes as well and she quoted my last lines out loud.

The capital may have dinosaurs, monuments, large buildings, big business and huge shopping centers but it doesn’t have what Oakland has… my school, my heart and my best friend.

*******

Meanwhile, as the Hudson family huddled to comfort each other the secretary at a famous boarding school in Edinburgh had just finished sending out the letter of rejection and acceptance of the new crop of hopefuls to be admitted into its hallowed halls. Of the forty-five applicants only twenty would be accepted… the You’ve Got Mail sign pinged on computers around the world informing the successful. Meanwhile, those who didn’t make the list would receive their rejection a little later…

The end

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 19

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Kenny Part 1

This story is written by Les Lea

It was another hot summer’s lunchtime and my new friend Kenneth Morrison and I walked up to the playing fields to lie in the sun. School was only a few yards away but up amongst the grassy sports area you felt like you were miles away. Other kids were there; some playing soccer, catch or just messing around, whilst others read books or relaxed in the mid-day heat. Kenneth and I found an empty area by the long jump sand pit and settled ourselves down to an hours worth of sunbathing before the lunch-break was finished and we had to return to our classes – the prospect of a sweaty afternoon in the classroom not making us want to hurry back anyway.

Kenneth was ten, the same age as me, and about my size, though he was blond to my dark. His white blond hair, fair complexion and blue eyes set him out as “different” to the rest of us. He had the knack of looking clean, poised and elegant even in his school uniform, whilst everyone else just looked like a bunch of untidy kids. He was my only real friend at school, for some reason I was reticent about making any new ones, but I did like being in his company; he was funny, generous and madly attractive.

***

Mum had been promoted and with that came relocation to another part of the country. Mum, me and my younger brother Jake had packed up all our worldly possessions and moved west but it seemed like another world. The bank mum worked for was the same, I suppose they’re the same everywhere but the school we were sent to was completely different. I was used to a relaxed approach – wearing jeans and a sweater, you know, normal clothes but at this one, we had to wear a strict uniform; maroon blazer, grey shorts, grey knee-length socks, school tie… it was the complete opposite to back home. School itself was more organised as well and it took a bit of adjusting to on my part.

Jake, being 8, didn’t seem to have any trouble adapting, while I was very self-conscious on my first day about wearing schoolboy grey shorts and, standing in front of the class while being introduced was, even though we were all dressed the same, embarrassing.

“This is Simon Hudson,” the teacher Miss Pendle told the 20 other boys sat looking straight at me, “he’s just moved to join us here at Oakland and I’d like you all to make him feel welcome.”

A chorus of “Hello Simon” followed and I smiled a very nervous smile. However, Kenny stood out even then; his white blond hair and a face that seemed to radiate a permanent smile set him apart from the others, whilst the slight wave of his hand in welcome seemed genuine and unlike anyone else. I sat feeling very anxious for the rest of the day but it was Kenny who made the first move to come and say ‘Hello’ personally and that was how we became friends.

***
After lying in the sun for a few minutes Kenny declared it was too hot and quickly whipped off his school tie and shirt. His pale tight chest looked like it could do with some sun, although there wasn’t an ounce of fat on his taut, boyish frame. I struggled with my tie and as I was doing so Kenny unbuttoned his grey school shorts and peeled them open a little. I was flabbergasted. Not because I was seeing him being so bold on the playing field – I had seen him naked many times before because we swam, did gym and played soccer together – no, it was because he was wearing a disposable diaper.

Actually, the top of his diaper was showing over a very tight pair of semi-transparent plastic pants and it was those which I saw first.

“Erm… do you wear diapers?” I asked the most obvious question as I sat gawping at what was before me.

“These are a new type mum bought,” he paused to run his fingers around the top, “they’re a bit larger than the ones she usually gets.”

I was confused as I’d never seen him wearing anything like them before and it was only now I was aware of their presence that I noticed the slight bulkiness to his shorts.

“Usually? Do you wear them regularly?”

“No not often… just if I have an accident at night and I wet the bed.” He said all this so matter-of-factly that instead of being shocked I was interested in what he had to say.

“Sometimes I pee myself… or worse,” he looked up at me to make sure I understood. I nodded. “I don’t know why I occasionally do but… I do.”

He paused again but this time he wasn’t looking straight at me he was looking down at his diaper.

“If I wet the bed, it has been known for me to wet myself at other times so…”

Now he looked into my eyes and waited for a reaction. I didn’t know what to say so he continued.

“Mummy, she’s a nurse,” I suppose he thought that explained quite a lot, “makes me wear a diaper to be on the safe side.”

“Is she punishing you?” I asked naively.

“Protection she calls it but I suppose there may be a bit of punishment in there as well… it’s been happening since I was a little kid so…. I’m used to it now.”

“Do the other kids know?”

“Some do… but as I’ve grown up with most of them… there’s not much they don’t know about me.”

He saw my unbelieving look because I knew, back at my old school, a boy his age wearing diapers… and plastic pants… would be ridiculed every minute of every day.

He continued, “I don’t have to wear them all the time, just if I have a ‘bed-wetting incident’.”

He said ‘bed-wetting incident’ as if he’d learned it off by heart as some kind of medical term for what happened.

“The plastic pants are to protect my other clothes, my shorts,” he pointed to them as if in explanation.

“Sometimes my involuntary wetting happens over a period of days… so… I have to wear these until mummy thinks it’s safe for me to go back into my usual underwear.”

“Do you mind? Does it feel strange?”

I just couldn’t quite comprehend what Kenny was going through or why he allowed himself to be put into diapers but I didn’t mention that at the time I was still curious.
“How much longer will you be in them?”

“Don’t know. If I’m dry for a couple of days… and nights… then she will decide but…” he looked me straight in the eyes again. “I really don’t mind… wearing a diaper is no different from wearing anything else.”

I’m not sure I agreed with him on that because, until that moment, I had never seen anyone, except my baby brother, wearing diapers outside. This was a first and a very unusual first at that. I was transfixed by the sight and by Kenny’s frankness. It obviously didn’t worry or upset him in the slightest and if the other kids knew, it had long since been of any interest to them. I just looked at him. No, that’s a lie, I actually just stared at Kenneth’s crotch and the strangely hypnotising diaper and smooth plastic pants that surrounded it.

“You like them?”

Kenneth asked and I must have nodded my response as I gazed disbelievingly at this unexpected revelation. He rolled over onto his stomach, pulled his shorts down a little further and the plastic pants, stretching over the slightly hidden diaper underneath, emphasised his shapely young bum. He ran his hands over them and kept saying how nice they felt to wear.

“Can I feel them?” I nervously asked.

“Of course,” he replied as if it was the most natural request in the world.

I tentatively ran my hand over the tight slippery material, caressing his tight young buns but not really thinking about that in a sexual manner, only to appreciate the feel of that protected area.

He turned over and I kept stroking the padded material, it felt warm, and soft, and exciting. My fingers gently slipped inside the waistband… and for me at least, the weather seemed to raise several degrees. I looked up but Kenneth’s eyes were closed… he seemed to be enjoying the sensation of my touch. I figured that if he wasn’t bothered then why should I as I delighted in tracing my fingers across the thickness of the smooth, shiny material.

***

The following day I noticed that the slight bulge in his shorts had disappeared and I asked if he was now out of his daytime protection. He nodded and for some reason, I felt a bit disappointed. I had become fascinated with Kenny’s problem and of course the fact that, as a result, he wore diapers and plastic pants, I wanted to know… and see… more but the opportunity to bring up the subject appeared to have passed. In gym he changed and was wearing the same style of briefs as the rest of the boys in the class and again I felt really disillusioned. I wanted to see my friend in his ‘protection’ and maybe learn a bit more. Perhaps feel them again because the night before… that was all I could think about as I fell asleep.

At lunchtime it was still hot and I suggested we go back to our sunbathing spot up on the playing fields. He agreed and as we ate our sandwiches I tentatively broached the subject of his diapers. I was worried in case he thought I was being too nosey but he didn’t seem to mind my questions. Again he answered everything I asked.
No, the doctor didn’t know why he wet.
Yes, he slept in them.
No, he didn’t mess on purpose.
Yes, his mum used to diaper him when he wore cloth diapers, but now he uses disposable ones he puts them on himself.
No, he isn’t afraid of what people might say.
Yes, he liked to wear them.

I was surprised that he admitted to that, so I wanted to know why. He said because he liked his parents making a fuss, he liked the bulkiness between his legs and he liked the way it made him feel. Safe.
Like him I was ten years-old but I’d never thought of anything the way he seemed to do and I think I was a little jealous of his experiences.

***

Mum was keen that Jake and I should make friends so, after a few weeks, I asked if Kenny could sleepover one night… she was delighted. On the Thursday I asked him if he’d like to come to my place to play and perhaps stay over for the night. He thought that would be a terrific idea but had better check with his parents first. A call from his mum to mine confirmed it and after school on Friday he went home to pack a few things before being delivered to us by his fire-fighter dad.

Mr Morrison was a tall, energetic, muscular man who, like his son, was all smiles when I and my family met him for the first time. As Kenny jumped from the car he was already shaking hands with my mum, ruffling Jake’s hair and on his way to say ‘hello’ to me. He was a bundle of energy and compliments as he steered his son towards us. As we boys went into the house he stood chatting to my mum for a few minutes before he waved his goodbyes, and disappeared back down the road.

Kenny had brought with him a backpack and a sleeping bag, which seemed a lot for an overnight stay. I was more than prepared for us to share my bed but… I hadn’t thought he might not want that. He dumped his stuff in my room, Jake and I had a room each, though my brother often came to join me in mine. In fact, ever since he was a toddler, Jake had been scared of thunder and lightning and had often found comfort with me at these distressing times. As the older brother I had to calm him, even though I was a bit scared of it all myself. My job was to look after my little brother and if he needed someone to cling onto when he was terrified, I was happy to do that for him. Besides, and I never admitted it to him, but his warm little body snuggling against mine as he slept was alleviating my fears as well.

My mum had said that we couldn’t exclude Jake and if he wanted to he had to be allowed to play with us. As Kenny was an only child it was something new for him to be involved in the way brothers interact with each other so, I was glad that he was happy for Jake to be included.

***

We almost wore ourselves out playing in the fields behind the house and as the shadows got longer we came in for food and to watch TV. Later, we were playing a board game in my room when mum shouted that it was time to get ready for bed. It was well past the time that Jake usually had to be in bed by but, because of our guest, he was allowed to stay up that little bit later. On mum’s orders he went back to his own room to get ready for bed. He used the bathroom first and then went to put his PJs on. Meanwhile, Kenny had spread out his sleeping bag on the floor next to my bed. I suggested he didn’t need that as I was happy to share my bed if he wanted. He looked at me a bit sheepishly and said that he didn’t think I’d want him in with me in case he wet again. But he opened his backpack and retrieved a disposable diaper and a pair of pink plastic pants and waved them at me.

“However,” he smiled, “I have come prepared… so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

I noticed that he had more than one disposable in his backpack and suggested that, if he liked the idea, that perhaps, I should also get diapered up… that way, we’d be doubly protected. He smiled knowingly but added he thought that it was a great idea… if I wanted to. I think this is what he’d hoped for all along and I knew, despite my self-denial, that this was also what I was hoping would happen. He handed me a disposable and a pair of clear plastic pants and said that he hoped that they would fit OK. We were both the same size so I had no doubt that they would and I was eager to get started. We went off to wash and clean our teeth together and then, once back in my room, we began to strip our clothes off. A brief knock on the door and mum came in to make sure we were both getting ready for bed but at that moment we were both stood in our underwear.

“Muuumm,” I moaned, “can’t we have any privacy?”

“Sorry son, sorry Kenneth,” she paused, “just your mum said you might need…” She looked at Kenny who, realising his mum must have told my mum about his problem said:

“It’s OK Mrs Hudson… thank you… but I can do it all myself.

Mum took the message and didn’t pursue it any further: “OK then boys, if you’re sure. You can play your games for a little while longer but try not to make a noise… I don’t want Jake disturbed.”

“Yes mum, we’ll be quiet.” With that she shut the door and I could hear her go down stairs to watch some TV of her own.

Kenny pulled off his underpants and stood there naked in front of me. He wasn’t in the least bit embarrassed and although I’d seen him naked in the showers at school, this was unnervingly intimate as there was just the two of us. Like me, he had no hair on his body, although a couple of the boys in class had begun the sprout the odd tuft on a particular part of their young bodies. However, I was suddenly occupied with another image and looked on spellbound as he unravelled his disposable and laid it on the floor. He then sat his naked bum down on it, lay back and in seconds had tightly taped himself into the thing. He did all this without a moment’s hesitation and, when he stood up I was impressed as to the way it hung onto his slim hips. He looked cute. There’s no other way to describe it. His blond hair and his slim body, wrapped in a disposable diaper made him look unbelievably cute.

“OK, your turn,” he said.

I nervously pulled down my briefs, and then took the offered disposable from Kenny… although I really had no idea how to put it on. Kenny saw my confusion so came over and helped me with it. He spread it out on my bed and got me to lie out on it. He took his time as I watched him slowly pulling the thing up between my legs and making sure everything fitted me well. My best friend fitting me in a diaper felt strange but exhilarating all at the same time. He’d just fastened the tapes to make sure it was a tight and snug fit, pulled me to my feet so he could check that it didn’t droop anywhere, when the door burst open and in walked Jake.

“Good night Kenny I…” The poor little fellow looked at a loss as to what to make of the two boys he was recently playing with standing in nothing but a pair of diapers.

“And a goodnight to you Jake,” Kenny smiled at him and, not knowing what to say, I simply frozen in panic.

“I like your PJs… are those spaceships?”

He padded the short distance towards Jake who let him examine the cartoon spacemen and rockets that adorned his pale blue cotton PJs, while he himself was bug-eyed at the thick disposable in front of him.

“I could do with some like these myself… they look terrific.” Kenny continued.

Jake got his breath back and asked the most obvious question. “Why are you both wearing diapers?”

I had no idea how to answer that but Kenny was an obvious past master at such bold questions and told him, very straightforwardly, that he had a medical problem that meant that he occasionally wet the bed. This was protection so that he didn’t spoil the bedding if it happened during the night whilst he was visiting his friends. Jake looked across the short distance to me but before the next question formed on his lips Kenny got in first.

“Simon didn’t want me to feel bad about being in diapers on my own so offered to wear them as well. Isn’t that nice of him?”

Jake wasn’t sure but just sort of nodded a “Uh-uh.”

Not knowing what better to do I pulled up my plastic pants and went in search of the boxer shorts, which I usually slept in. When Jake reached out and touched Kenny’s diaper… my best friend didn’t even flinch or hide or… well I’m not sure what I expected but he handled the situation incredibly well. Once Jake had finished examining it Kenny reached down and pulled his own pink plastic pants over it and then stepped into his own pajamas. They were a plain pink color, which matched his plastic pants, which I suppose was the idea, and the padded bulge looked OK from where I was standing.

“Jake… get back into bed at once.”

Mum shouted, as she must have heard something was going on upstairs,

“Let the boys get to sleep themselves.”

Without another word Jake rushed off to his own room leaving Kenny and I to contemplate what had just happened.

“Like you,” Kenny smiled, “he’s just curious.”

I looked at my sleepover guest with renewed awe. He’d answered Jake’s questions and wore his diaper with dignity. I was feeling well impressed and, with our plastic pants rustling as we climbed into my bed, I realised I had a new respect for the diaper I was also now wearing.

This story is written by Les Lea

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

Chapter 2

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Diaper check

Diaper checkFurrys in this drawing belongs to duffy and zelminax

Draw by Dari-dario

Source: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/31215495/

Looks like this fox biggest fear suddenly turn into a reality :(

This sure was a mean thing of duffy to do :(

This thing sure going to spread like a forest fire in the school about that this fox is wearing diapers.

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What are you looking at? – LittleScoty27

Awww looks like someone is a little embarrassing over showing his diaper :( What i see it is kind of pointless for him to be hiding his diaper front when other furrys can see his diaper butt in it full cuteness :) Ir sure is on display there but he sure dont seems to be thinking about it right now.

It sure going to be allot of blushing and embarrassing moment for him today.

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Baby Dick Part 8

This story is written by Les Lea

Mum had been quite incensed that Mr Blacklock had demanded that I see a school psychiatrist and, after a discussion with dad, had decided they would make a complaint to the local education authority about the school’s lack of control over bullying.

Both my parents turned up at the Head’s office and told him of their plans. He dismissed them like he’d dismissed me and I think that was a mistake. Whilst he thought their ‘lackadaisical’ parenting was responsible for my wearing nappies to school, they pointed out it was fear on my part that made me do so. The Head was adamant there was no evidence and seemed to forget that the posters of me in a disposable, which had so recently been displayed around the school, should have been enough proof.

He continued with the line there was no actual support to link Cudthorpe with it and, even with his bad reputation, suspicion wasn’t enough. Dad said it would have been at any other school and now he’d spoken to the Head himself, he realised “…what my son has to endure whilst under the jurisdiction of such an ineffectual Principal.”

This didn’t go down well with the Head but at least mum and dad were on the same supportive page so when he got home (I’d enjoyed a day wearing a nappy and pottering around the house) dad apologised for even doubting me for a second. Although I’d confessed all to my brother I hadn’t done the same to my parents so, for the moment at least, I stayed schtum.

#

Cudthorpe didn’t know I had an older brother because Paul didn’t go to the same school; he’d passed an entrance exam and went to an Academy outside our catchment area. Cuddy had probably seen Helen and me arrive on the same bus, although she then went to the girl’s school opposite the one I went to.

At my brother’s school Friday afternoon is given over to sport. Paul is a keen sportsman playing everything from rugby and football to swimming and wrestling. There are few sports events that don’t have my brother as part of the team and he excels in them all. I’m not sporty at all although I have attended a couple of finals when he’s been involved. When he walks around the house wearing just his rugby or football kit he looks so healthy and strong compared to his weakling little brother… me. Having said that, all I ever think about is my sweet brother who wouldn’t say boo to a goose and always treats me with love and affection.

I wasn’t there but I am reliably informed by those who were that my brother, who must have given up his Friday afternoon of sport to get to the school for the last lesson, confronted my bully.

Those who witnessed it said an unknown lad challenged Cuddy who took a swipe at him. Apparently his mates cheered him on until Paul whacked him twice in quick succession that sent him sprawling. Archie, ever the lieutenant, waded in only to find an elbow in his guts and a stomp on his right arm so it was useless.

With Cuddy not knowing who this person was and wondering why he was being accosted lost it a little and started swearing and bragging about what would happen to his assailant when he recovered.

Meanwhile, that very assailant told him that the thing about bullies was, there was always a bigger bully waiting in the wings… and he wasn’t easy to intimidate.

#

There were more threats and counter threats but with Cuddy surprised and immobile by his shock attacker, and his gang jeering but doing little else, realised that a real beating might not be too far away. It was the first time since being at our school that he’d been afraid and taken to task for the things he’d done.

Having said that, he was no pussy and confident he could get the better of his assailant. He jumped up and delivered a forceful kick aimed at Paul’s genitals, which was skilfully blocked. However, my brother countered with a devastating punch to the throat that sent Cuddy down gasping for air.

Oddly enough, where this fracas took place was out of sight from any adults. It was home time so the road and spare ground just contained loads of kids dispersing to the surrounding suburban areas.

Paul had chosen his battle ground well so there was no one to intrude on what took place, well no adult anyway. Although if truth be known, my brother (he later confessed to me) had no real idea just how tough his opponent was going to be. However, he had something to do and he didn’t want a grown-up interfering.

The big surprise was that whilst Cuddy was down and desperately gagging for air his unknown assailant announced to the gathering crowd that perhaps ‘the bully’ had a secret of his own.

“Drop your pants.”

The hurting victim stared in disbelief. He couldn’t let it happen, the revelation that was secret to all but he and his mother. The shameful occurrence that had been hushed up for the past five years, so wasn’t about to let that become general knowledge. Suddenly realising what was about to take place Cuddy snarled in defiance before attempting to squirm away.

“Not so quick Cudthorpe.”

Painfully and reluctantly he got to his feet and, hoping to catch his opponent unaware feigned compliance but launched himself at Paul.

After many years of agilely dodging tackles in both rugby and football my brother anticipated this action and countered with a move of his own.

A squealing Cuddy suddenly found a kick to his balls, followed by an arm forced up his back more agony than he wanted to endure. With a crowd of excited, if confused schoolboys looking on, Paul made his move.

He gripped the now cowering bully (the rest of the gang proving to be ineffectual cowards when confronted by someone who could look after himself), yanked down his pants, as Cuddy had so often done to me, and exposed the fact that he wore protection himself.

The protests and swearing, the anger and spite was suddenly transformed to a whimper as his obvious disposable and glossy white plastic pants shone in the sun for all to see.

Despite his arm feeling on the verge of breaking he continued to struggle.

His fight back proved useless as my brother held him immobile. The confident, swearing, loudmouth tried to prevent anyone from seeing his obvious padding.

“As expected, you’re the pants-wetting baby in this school.” Paul announced.

Apparently, there was a loud ‘Whoooaa’, the spectators obviously not believing what had just happened, or what their eyes were witnessing.

Cuddy’s free hand tried to cover the crinkly evidence but Paul held him firm so all who wanted could see for themselves what their antagonist wore.

Baby talk aimed at Cuddy suddenly sprang from some of the braver members of the audience and he was soundly whipped by the barbed and undisguised pleasure they were taking from this embarrassing, yet entertaining, exposé.

#

The mobiles were out taking photographs of this shattered bully as his secret was documented and shared in an instant. All over the city phones pinged with an incoming photo of a humiliated fifteen year old sobbing and wearing baby pants.

Even those who had no idea who the subject was could enjoy the mortification on the boy’s face. For those who had been victims of the bully, it was a great day and one they would remember, and enjoy re-telling, for a long time to come. It became a very popular screen-saver around the school, where, even some teachers were known to ‘secretly’ have it on their computers and phones.

“Pick on my brother or even mention my sister ever… and you’ll be wearing a fucking nappy for the rest of your life. Are we clear?”

He made sure that anyone in earshot knew he was delivering a final warning. There were a few cheers of approval, a lot of grinning faces and visibly a few who didn’t quite believe what they’d just witnessed.

Cuddy obviously had no idea who he was being attacked by until Paul whispered my name in his ear.

The look of disbelief was followed by another whispered threat that had him instantly crawling away in fear and distress. He desperately tried to pull up his pants because the laughing and baying of the crowd was excruciating. His gang had magically dispersed and it appeared even Archie, nursing a possible broken wrist, was disgusted to see his cousin wearing a nappy.

The school bully scurrying away and clutching his pants tightly around his waist was the last image many of the onlookers saw of Cuddy because he didn’t return to school.

#

I only found out about this a few days later, even mum and dad didn’t know about it and Paul asked me not to say anything when I told him I knew what had happened. All my parents knew was that the Head invited them in for a chat and an apology. He said that more facts had come to light and he was now convinced Cudthorpe had indeed been bullying me but, as he was now no longer a pupil at the school hoped everything could return to normal.

The need for a psychiatrist report was to be forgotten.

Apparently, the Head heard that a boy from another school had whipped Cudthorpe’s arse but no one knew who he was or where he was from. Of course the Head should have investigated the incident but as neither Cudthorpe nor his family got in touch, and the fact he didn’t return to school (much to the delight of everyone there), Mr Blacklock seemed more than happy with the outcome.

#

Back at the Cudthorpe residency all hell broke loose when a copy of that photograph reached the father. He had no idea his son wore any kind of protection and blamed his ‘airy-fairy’ wife for ‘fuckin’ babyfying’ their boy. Heenjoyed the fact that the family was ‘feared’ in the community but THIS undermined everything.

He was so disgusted with his son that he wouldn’t let him out of the house and as punishment (as well as a severe beating) was made to wear only his nappy and plastic pants. His father wanted him to be constantly reminded of just what he’d become.

Alas, it didn’t end there because shortly after that people who would normally have run a mile rather than confront any of the Cudthorpes began to take the mickey. Even the hard Dylan

Cudthorpe, leader of his band of vicious but small time criminals, was ridiculed and asked by the many cops he came into contact with if he still wore a nappy like his boy.

The Cudthorpe legacy took a dramatic dive.

#

Mum and dad were surprised at this turn of events but thought it was due to their threat to reveal the Head as ineffectual; Paul wanted them to stay with that impression and desired no credit for the real reason. In fact, my ‘timid’ brother promised he’d change my nappies for me if I could keep it a secret.

He didn’t need to make such an undertaking because I couldn’t believe my brother would do such a thing. Not that I didn’t think he was tough, I’d just never imagined him being THAT tough, he was always so gentle with me. I told him I’d keep his secret as long as mum and dad didn’t ask… I was afraid of lying to them. He agreed that would be okay and patted my plastic pants and said I really was the sweetest toddler around.

He always knew what to say to cheer me up, even when I didn’t know I needed cheering up.

I hugged my hero and kissed his cheek in thanks.

However, dad agreed with the Head that there was now no excuse for me to wear a nappy to school and it was settled (reluctantly by me) that all my nappy wearing would be done outside of school hours.

#

When I got back to school, minus padding, Quentin, who apparently had witnessed the entire thing, was totally in awe of my brother. Other than the humiliation of being found out to be a pants-wetter (ha-ha), at the time we had no idea why Cuddy suddenly left school. Both of us noticed that the secondary bullying seemed to have lessened and people were being nice to us. Well, perhaps not nice but certainly not as nasty as it had once been.

“Shame about the nappy,” Quentin offered his commiserations, “I know you liked the security but…”

He shrugged.

“It’s best to keep school and home separate… I hope your parents are still okay with you wearing…”

“Mum, Paul and Helen are all fine, it’s just dad who’s not keen but hasn’t put a ban in place so…”

“Well that’s good. I bet you look enchanting when you’re only wearing protection.”

#

I was a bit shocked. He’d never spoken like this before and I wriggled guiltily in my ‘normal’ underwear because I couldn’t now show him just how much I loved my padding.

“When I’m home I can forget my school uniform and enjoy the soft fabrics I like to wear.” Quentin was letting me in on something very personal. “I do like a lot of girlie stuff… clothes, satin, lace, silk panties… and dolls,” he looked over at me, “even the occasional nappy. As long as the fabric is soft and fluffy… I like it.”

His voice had changed from the confident one he used in class to a softer, more intimate one, like he was sharing something special… with someone special.

Although everyone said he was the school sissy this was the only real acknowledgement that he was in any way effeminate… and he had no qualms about it.

“Do you like to, erm, um, dress like a girl?” I cautiously asked.

He whispered his reply.

“Sometimes… but it’s mostly I just like the feel of girl’s clothes… they’re softer, not as rigid as boy’s clothes… though I’m not so much for painted nails and make-up… that type of thing.”
He was letting that sink in.

“I suppose I’m a boy but dressed in nice girlie stuff. Mummy and daddy have never pressured me to wear one thing over another… except for school… and I could see the sense in wearing a uniform like everyone else.”

Then his voice went even softer as he let me in on one of his big secrets.

“Sometimes, when we don’t have games or gym, I wear a nice frilly nylon pair of panties and, knowing I have them on, make me feel different all day.”

I could relate to this because that’s exactly the way my nappy made me feel. It seemed strange that Quentin kept his secret whilst I wore mine so everyone could see. However, I realised I had a better excuse than he did and why I was able to get away with it… to some degree at least. I’m sure if the rest of the school knew what Quentin wore under his school trousers they would have made his life hell.

He looked me in the eye.

“And sometimes, like you, I just want to escape to being a kid again and a thick fluffy nappy and pair of slinky vinyl pants is ideal.”

Quentin was sharing quite a bit and although I was stunned by his revelations, I liked the fact that he wasn’t ashamed to tell.

The other thing he let me in on was he was perhaps one of them few people who knew it was my brother who had attacked Cuddy. He’d been near enough to hear the whispered name that Paul had said to him that made my persecutor confused and distressed. He didn’t tell his daddy who Cuddy’s assailant was though… all he said to me was he wished he had a brother who would protect him like that. I said we are already ‘brothers’ in so many ways. He appreciated that.

#

Apparently, at a very young age his mummy had discovered him wearing some of her clothes. She didn’t want to scare the boy so asked if he enjoyed dressing up. He told her he liked certain things and pointed to what those were.

She bought him his own version and sizes and put them in his drawer so, when he wanted to, he could wear them without using hers. Over the years his desire for soft and silky things grew and so did his collection. It made him a very happy boy and without the pressure from his family to be anything other than himself, he was equally at home wearing boys or girls clothes.

I discovered all this because, over the next few weeks, Quentin and I got quite close. We even had sleepovers at each other’s house and when he slept in my room he wore a nappy and when I was at his, well he liked me to wear a nappy, whilst he wore a lovely silky pair of pyjamas. I tried them, and whilst they were very nice I preferred my fabric nappy.

I was a little nervous about meeting his parents but I needn’t have been. His mother was a very happy, jovial woman, who took great pride in her brilliant son’s abilities. His father was a surprise. I had expected him to be serious, tall and brooding, him being a high-ranking cop and all. He was nothing like the ones on TV; he was small, roly-poly, never stopped cracking jokes and loved his flamboyant boy. I was enthusiastically greeted and instantly made to feel very welcome. They knew about my nappy wearing but it didn’t bother them at all.

Oh and something else, his room was twice the size of mine, didn’t smell of talc and was immaculate. His clothes were all neatly hung up or colour coded in his drawers and he had the most amazing collection of silks and satiny underwear, which I have to admit looked pretty good on him. In his bottom draw were pink ‘Princess’ style disposables and pink plastic panties, which I’ve seen him in and he looks fantastic.

#

I was incredibly pleased how quickly my family took to my guest. They knew he’d been my one support through the ‘crisis’ so that was already in his favour but, he was just so sweet I think they thought of him as like me – someone who was immature and needed looking after.

He wasn’t immature but loved the way our family operated.

This total acceptance was new to him even if his own mummy and daddy were okay with their sissy son, not all his family were of the same understanding. He tried to avoid situations where cousins, aunts and uncles were gathered because he just couldn’t be himself. He’d found a refuge at my home.

There was something else that became apparent. Whereas my Baby Dick became public knowledge because people had seen it in the school changing room, Quentin’s penis was an unknown quantity.

For some reason I just assumed he’d be like me… I was wrong… very wrong.

His silky panties strained beyond belief trying to contain his monster. Cuddy and his mob would have found it very difficult to call him names as I’m sure he’d have put the lot to shame.
It was terrific that we could both appreciate what the other found exhilarating by what we wore so I did try and get into what Quentin liked. There was no doubt that the fine material was very nice and sensual… and I suppose, at a push, I could have happily worn those silky briefs. But I’m afraid that the fact they looked more appropriate on me than him, what with barely a bulge to interrupt their silken flow around my groin, no, no, NO… I preferred that my bits were well covered.

Once I’d seen his bulging out its glossy enclosure he observed the disbelieving look on my face and saw the shame I felt at being so small.

I immediately thought ‘I must be a baby in his eyes… let alone half the school’ but he jumped in quickly.

“I prefer yours.” He smiled. “Mine doesn’t look right on me….” he nodded towards my miniature equipment, “but it suits you.”

I wondered if he had a cruel streak after all.

 

Noticing my obvious upset he added with a smile.

“Michael, you’re the complete package; a toddler in a nappy and you’re happy. It wouldn’t be right to have a large pee-pee… yours completes the perfect picture… which means my friend… you’re just perfect.”

I could tell from the way he said it that he meant it as a compliment and like Paul, seemed to know what to say to make me feel good about myself.

Quentin and I began to see a lot of one and other so now, having found a friend, we didn’t have to hide from anything or anyone.
However, when he stayed at my house I noticed a very different Quentin if Paul was around. He was bashful, soft and hardly dared speak. I think, because of the dreamy way he looked at him, he saw my brother as some kind of god because he shyly agreed with everything Paul suggested. I knew he wished he had a similar relationship to him that I did.

Thankfully, over the next few weeks he and Paul became friends. Paul couldn’t do enough for Quentin and the same seemed to be true. He made my friend feel welcome every visit and I often found them talking quietly, with Quentin hanging on his every word. I was pleased that my brother was as accepting of my friend’s eccentricities as he was mine – typical of my brother to make him feel special.

#

With my nappy wearing being confined to the house (most of the time) dad didn’t stop me from dressing how I liked. Thankfully, the rest of the family would secretly change and spoke to me like I was a little kid, which I loved.

When Paul changed me it was always with such thought and tenderness, although the conversation usually got round to talking about Quentin. He’d seen him wearing his silky underwear and asked if I’d ever thought about trying that. I said I was more than happy in a nappy, which brought a smile to his face. However, I did agree that my friend certainly wore his glossy feminine clothes with a style that was very natural. My brother nodded in agreement.

Despite, the soft fabrics he wore, there was no denying the fact that Quentin always looked like a boy. Even in his most girlie creation, he still looked like a boy in feminine clothes. His hair wasn’t long, he never bothered with make-up – there was a strangely steely determination to be a boy despite his girlish preferences. He saw absolutely no difference in a boy playing with dolls, as a boy playing with soldiers.

On one sleepover, as we were getting ready for bed, he slipped into a pair of his well-padded pink princess style pull-ups with frilly plastic pants – he looked stunning. I know Paul thought so because an appreciative whistle escaped his lips. Quentin looked shyly back but didn’t try and hide away and my brother had the biggest smile on his face.

#

Talking of whom, I was never sure if my parents actually knew what happened at school but Paul kept up the pretence he knew nothing. However, he did keep a watchful eye by occasionally turning up at the school gates on a Friday. I’d find him deep in conversation with Quentin whilst he waited to accompany me home.

I didn’t hear any more from the Head, I also didn’t get any further nonsense from any of the teachers. I suppose eventually Paul had been identified as my brother and a new respect or understanding was agreed in the teacher’s lounge. The two school sissies had a guardian angel that might swoop down at any moment and beat the living daylights out of anyone who gave us grief. It probably wasn’t true but was a theory I liked?

Perhaps he didn’t know it but Paul had instantly become a legend for the many who had suffered at the hands of Cuddy and his kind. That incident was played over and over again by kids who hadn’t even witnessed it but told everyone – ‘they were there’.

Meanwhile, at home I was happy to feel the warm wet material surrounding my little willy, it was a sensation I was beginning to enjoy more and more. Thankfully, that guardian angel changed my nappy when it was soaked and cosseted me in love on a daily basis. He even volunteered to do the same for my friend should he want it when he came to sleep over… an offer that Quentin timidly accepted.

It’s heart-warming to see the affectionate way they each look at one and other when this happens.

What a wonderful, understanding and loving brother I am blessed with.

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

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