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


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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Baby Dick Part 7

This story is written by Les Lea

Mum sat on the bed and cuddled me tightly. She rocked gently in an effort to help me calm down but felt so drained I could only whimper and not appreciate what she was doing for me. She slowly dried me and I shouldn’t have been happier except… I knew that something drastic had to change… and I also knew it would probably have to be me.

Meanwhile, mum could see I’d been traumatised by the events of the day and to her credit had laid out a fresh nappy for me to wear.

She made sure I was clean and dry before coating me in Vaseline and powder, then, adding a thick soaker pad, pulled up and pinned the fresh cloth nappy in place. At last I was clean and the soft white material felt wonderful as it slipped against my skin and gripped my waist. The friendly bulk made me bury my head in mum’s bosom in gratitude for what she’d just done. Despite everything, she knew what I needed at that moment.

She pulled up a pair of thick vinyl pants and tucked everything away but she could see that I was scared and uncertain.

“I think you should nap now… you’ve had a hell of a day so far and I think a rest is what’s needed.”

She pulled back my sheets and I crawled in.

Sleepily I asked if she believed me, I wasn’t a liar and I didn’t mess myself…

She replied she’d always believe her sweet little baby, and that I shouldn’t worry, everything would be alright.

Her smile made me trust her so turned onto my side and believe I was asleep before she’d even left the room.


Although it was only mid-afternoon I slept heavily but was plagued by unsettling dreams.

Cuddy loomed large in all of them and I’d become a pet at his beck and call and made to perform the most appalling actions. There was nothing sexual, it was just constant humiliation where he’d demand I perform like a dog, or pig, or some wild animal. Parade around in a saggy, abused nappy for the amusement of his friends and at other times to crawl everywhere, through mud and worse.

I couldn’t say ‘no’ or fight back.

Throughout all this I was made to wear his messy nappy and my mess was constantly being added to it. The size of the nappy and plastic pants was huge as the build-up increased.
I was struggling with the sheer volume and crying for it all to stop when eventually, the silky, smooth plastic balloon burst spraying the contents everywhere. It was then I woke up to find my own carefully applied protection had become loose – the result of which was now covering both me and the bed in a catastrophic sludge.

I’d only been asleep for less than an hour but it looked like I’d deliberately smeared it over the bedding and myself – the smell was appalling. How I’d managed to get to such a state I didn’t know but all my previous denials about never messing myself had all but disappeared.

I was crying for a good ten minutes, not knowing what to do or say, when Helen came into my room and stood aghast at the scene of devastation before her. She immediately called mum and soon I had the entire family looking horror-struck.

“What the hell?”

After what happened at school, and now this at home, I realised that my version of events was on very stony ground.

“I hhhhad a ba bad dreammm.” I stammered.

Somehow the protection had wriggled down to my knees so when my bowel did erupt there was very little to prevent it from spurting its liquid content everywhere. Also, it looked like I’d spent time rolling around in it.

Dad rushed to open the windows, whilst Helen led me to the bathroom. Mum was stripping the bed and I saw a look of disgusted determination occupy my brother’s face.


I was desperate for a hug but of course was in no condition to expect anyone to cuddle me. Helen’s guiding hand helped strip off the little I was still wearing and supervised as I showered for the second time in just a couple of hours.

“It was an accident, it was an accident…” was all I could gabble in my defence.

I didn’t know it at the time but mum and dad had been discussing what had happened at school and that Mr Blacklock had given mum an ultimatum about my nappy wearing. The upshot was dad was determined I should discontinue with wearing nappies, whilst mum thought it probably the worst time for such action. To her, this current mess was proof that I needed them more than ever to cope with whatever was going on.

The Head had pointed out to mum that for what I claimed to have happened would rely on too many coincidences and that my story hadn’t been consistent, citing my accusations of both his baby cousin and baby brother of supplying the contents of the nappy, neither of which Cuddy had. Although Mr Blacklock knew Cudworth was a bad apple, he had several people supporting his alibi, whilst I had no one. He did wonder why a tenth grader would chance walking around school with a messy disposable in his school bag on the off chance of making me wear it?
It just didn’t seem feasible.

Meanwhile, back at home and checking out the mess in my bedroom, dad I think wasn’t convinced I hadn’t done it on purpose. If not on purpose, then being a little lax at getting to the toilet… perhaps to prove my need to be babied.

Mum won the argument because dad hadn’t been in the conversation with the Head and only third party to what actually had been going on but I could see in dad’s eyes he wasn’t happy.

Meanwhile, she had a fresh clean nappy, with a huge amount of padding ready when I returned from the shower.

“Don’t worry sweetheart,” Mum said as she coated me in lotion, “we all know you’ve been through hell and I’m not sure the Headmaster is on top of the situation at school.” She paused as she dragged the thick padding between my legs and pinned it into place. “So, for the moment, I’m keeping you at home.”

She’d also found, from I don’t know where, a particularly thick pair of rubber pants to cover the entire thing.

“Better safe than sorry,” she smiled. “An atomic blast wouldn’t get through this protection.”

She stroked the large, smooth, bulky object gripping my groin.

I knew she was trying to cheer me up but I was still unhappy about what had happened. My grin wasn’t sincere and I think she picked up on it.

“Really Mikey, you mustn’t worry… we’ll get all this sorted.”

What I didn’t know at the time was the Head had said that I wouldn’t be allowed back in class until I’d had a school psychiatrist report giving me a clean bill of health.


Tea was a sombre meal. I kept muttering ‘sorry’ and ‘it wasn’t my fault’ but dad said let’s just eat and we’ll sort it all out later. I’m not sure anyone knew what to say but I did detect an anger building in Paul’s eyes as he gazed at my huge silky padding and sad face.

After just picking at the food, I wasn’t in much of a mood to eat, I went to my room to finish my homework and because I felt too guilty under dad’s disapproving gaze. Surprisingly, Paul came in and asked me to tell him exactly what had been happening since that first disposable attack. When I tried to wriggle from any explanation he threatened to tickle me until I complied.

I don’t think Paul and I had ever had such an intense conversation, it was quite liberating for me to get so much I’d been holding in, out there.

As I’ve said, as a family we’ve always been able to tell each other everything and I have to admit I hated keeping what was happening at school a secret, so I decided to tell him everything… and that included how I was quite enjoying being treated as little kid by Cuddy because I wasn’t receiving that at home.

However, I hadn’t liked the nasty direction Cuddy had taken things.


Paul was petting me; his low voice, reassurance, soft but meaningful hugs and touches all made me confess everything. He patted and admired my thick padding and glossy rubber pants saying how much they made me look like a happy toddler. I knew he was just saying it to curry favour but I liked hearing the words and it never felt weird or devious – don’t forget, I loved my brother and he loved me.

As I opened up I got more and more things off my chest.

I told him about Cuddy’s gang but that it was Archie and he who were the main bullies; the others seemed to need strong leaders but on their own were pretty much ineffectual. However, that hadn’t stopped any of them from making the most of every opportunity to embarrass me.

I confessed that them making me pee myself in the boy’s toilet was gross but I’d quite liked the feeling of a warm wet nappy.

I told him how the school sissy was the only true friend who seemed to care what was happening to me. He was also the only one I could tell the truth to and regarded him as a real confidant. The fact that he was brighter than I was, had sharper instincts and said he knew how nice it was to wear a nappy, was just part of Quentin’s appeal.

I even told Paul about Quentin’s theory that the disposables Cuddy used were for someone bigger than a baby and even bigger than me and he wondered if my tormentor had a secret of his own.
Clever and astute Quentin thought it would explain everything about the bully.


A smile appeared on Paul’s face, I think he knew before I did how much I admired Quentin.

“You should invite him over for a meal or to do homework together…”

“He lives at the other side of town.”

I answered innocently not knowing what my brother was getting at.

“Well I’m sure we’d all like to meet him, the boy who doesn’t mind you wearing a nappy and who…”

“Hold on, hold on.” I suddenly grasped where this was heading. “He’s just a friend.”

“Makes no difference what he is… if he’s the one person who supports my kid brother then he’s OK by me… and I think the rest of us.”

I’d gone bright red by then and changed the conversation back to Cuddy.

Up until I mentioned Cuddy’s threat against Helen Paul seemed pretty understanding but there was a dramatic mood change when I told him of the bully’s comment.

“OK, I think our ‘friend’ has just crossed one line too many…”

He didn’t expand on it although I could tell there was something going on in his head but, as he was moulding my padded bottom and stroking my hair as I confessed all, I snuggled down happy to have things as they were.

My brother was looking after his baby brother… and I loved it.


Mum was as good as her word and the following day I didn’t have to go to school, whilst my brother and sister did. She even changed my wet nappy in the morning before she had to go to work and told me that although she had to go, she’d be home early afternoon, so not to go out. Wearing only a fresh clean nappy and t-shirt I wasn’t planning on going anywhere and it was strange to have the house to myself, even for a short time.

I loved being able to wander around dressed as I was. I know I did it anyway but on my own, I was able to act out a bit. I added booster pads to my nappy to make it bigger; the emphasised waddle was incredible entertaining. I spoke to myself in baby talk. I hugged my teddy bear and took it everywhere I went. I set out all my nappies, plastic and rubber pants and matched them with what I thought were the most childish clothes I possessed. I didn’t have much but it was fun thinking how I’d adapt stuff to be onesies, footed sleepers or just something I thought was infantile.

My imagination was having a great time, even when I played with my toys whilst sitting an extremely wet nappy.

I made a fort out of the settee cushions, wrapped myself in fleecy blankets and pretended mum was still swaddling me and sucked on the dummy I’d been left by my ‘amusing’ school chums. I adapted a sports water bottle, filled it with milk and nursed on that. In the background the cartoon channel was on TV as I slipped into nap time and if it wasn’t for mum waking me up when she came home, I might have slept right through till tea time.


Mum and dad may have decided between them that I was to do all the baby stuff myself but I got the impression mum really liked it as I sleepily woke up from my nap all cosy, wet and in her words, “so damn cute”.

She let me choose which vinyl pants I wanted to wear next and then set about changing me again, with a caution not to let dad know what she’d done. Of course she saw all my ‘baby’ clothes laid out and grabbed what she thought were appropriate and slipped me in them. I was now dressed as she wanted to see me and although I had a pair of very loose fitting shorts covering my protection; they hid very little.

The padding between my legs was strangely comforting. It was like I was being gently held by some cushiony giant. I was strangely dangling between being a big toddler or a special needs teenager but I left teddy in the bedroom and went downstairs to help her get the evening meal ready.

This was a completely different experience. At school I was always on edge or getting abused in one way or another but here, helping mum, wearing baby clothes… I was in heaven. I’m not sure if she was aware of it but she slipped into speaking to me in a way she’d normally talk to a toddler, she praised every little task I completed. In return I spent a lot of time hugging her legs like I used to when a toddler. It was an incredibly loving scene.

This was what I wanted. This was what I’d hoped for. This was happening but for how long?

I knew dad would have problems with this because the school was having problems with it but, at that moment, I didn’t care. With the thick, soft nappy surrounding me in fleecy comfort I loved my mummy and she loved her baby son.

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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Baby Dick Part 6

This story is written by Les Lea

“I’m really sorry about all this,” I apologised to Quentin.

“S’OK, they need to learn maths more than I do.” He hardly broke a smile but I knew this was his humour.

“No, I mean… the smell… the embarrassment… being seen with me…”

“Is this more of Cuddy’s doing?”

I wasn’t sure whether to tell him or not, it was all so disgusting. Perhaps it would be better people thinking I’d messed my own pants than admitting what actually happened. Besides, I had to

protect Helen from the terror of Cuddy.

He looked at me and saw me struggling.

“More threats no doubt… he really is a piece of nasty wrapped in unpleasantness… or simply a cruel twat.”

I burst out laughing. Yes, despite my appalling situation Quentin had made me forget for a moment my problems and see Cuddy for what he was.

“Anyway, if I were you…” he looked at me straight in the eye, “I’d tell the Head exactly what has been going on… then tell your parents… keeping stuff to yourself will eventually make things worse…”

I interrupted him. “But he’s threatened Helen.”

“All the more reason to let people know what’s going on.”

“I don’t know. People might get to know about my liking for nappies and…”

“Look, and don’t take this the wrong way, but that boat has sailed. People know. Most don’t care and those that do… aren’t important.”

I knew Quentin was a clever lad but I never thought of him as being so mature. I was listening but really quite in awe of him. To be honest, I’d rather seen him as the rest of the school did, a brainbox yes, but really just a big timid sissy who’d rather play with girls.

“…the more you take on yourself the less control you have.”

I looked at him as if I’d never really known him.

“He’s relying on you to stay quiet so he and his mates can do and say what they like…”

“But I’ve complained about him before and they say,” I nodded towards the Heads office, “they can’t do anything without proof… and I just haven’t had any witnesses.”

“Yes,” he caught a whiff of the shitty nappy, “Ye gods.” He composed himself. “It doesn’t matter just tell everyone who will listen what’s going on. You’re still only a kid and this amounts to physical, emotional and mental abuse so stop being an idiot… and damn well fight back.”

I was stunned at the passion in his voice. He was having a go at me for being the sissy in this relationship. I would have cowered down into my nappy if I couldn’t still feel all the crap clinging to my bits.

The wait for the Head was taking ages so I went into great detail about what had happened. After a few “You’ve got to be joking”, “Yuks” and “Blluuurrrgggs” I finished the entire tale.

“What a cunt.”

Again, a word I never thought I’d hear from Quentin but one he seemed to think summed up Cuddy.

(For Quentin the c-word he knew was the worst thing you could call someone although he didn’t know why or what it really meant. All he knew was that sometimes he’d heard the word shouted by older boys and grown-ups and it seemed a nasty thing to say. He thought it MUST apply to Cuddy and his gang.)

“There’s no way you can keep this a secret.” He pointed to the top of the disposable that was peaking above my nappy “Besides, this…”

I could see he was thinking.

“Erm, did you say this was from his baby cousin? Quentin looked a little perplexed.

“Yes he took great delight saying it was fresh from him this morning.”

“But look, this is far too big for a baby… it’s even too big for you…”

I didn’t quite see what he was getting at but he left some time for me to put two and two together.

“So, you’re saying that this disposable has nothing to do with a baby… you think he bought them especially for me?”

“Maybe, but, and this is what I’m putting out there, what if it’s one of his own. What if he’s needs them himself…. it would explain an awful lot.”

He was smiling now.

“What if… big hard Cuddy is nothing more than a big bed-wetter himself?”

We both burst out laughing as I was called into the Head’s study and Quentin joyfully returned to his maths lesson.


“Think this is funny do you Smith?”

The headmaster didn’t look happy with what was in front of him.

“Messing you pants and talking like a baby…”

“No sir.”

My smile had rapidly disappeared once the stern features of Mr Blacklock confronted me.

“For crying out loud Smith… you stink… what were you thinking?”

“Sorry sir… but it wasn’t my fault.”

“Really, so how come Mr Henderson said you’ve already admitted to doing it?”

I had no idea how the two had managed to speak in the time I’d been waiting outside his office, although I did know there were two entrances to it.

“I was under extreme duress.”

This was one of the lines that Quentin had told me to use and I think it took the Head by surprise.

“Are you having problems at home?”

“No sir… I’m having problems with bullying in school.”

I wasn’t as confident as Quentin when it came to speaking to adults, and especially figures of supreme authority, but I took my friend’s words to ‘Man Up’ to heart and tried my best. I think I took

Mr Blacklock by surprise.

I could see him climb down from his high horse a little because he’d heard my complaints before.

“Is this about Cudthorpe in Year 10?”

“Yes, he continues a reign of terror against me… and possibly others… and yet nothing is done…”

“What has this to do with you messing your trousers?” He spoke sternly trying to knock me off my guard… or so I thought.

“Because sir, he stripped me and put me in a messy nappy that he’d brought with him.”

“I see. You’re telling me that Cudthorpe brought a particularly offensively smelling nappy to school with the sole intent of making you wear it?”

“Erm… er… um… yes I…”

“Do you realise how unbelievable that statement is… how preposterous…? You expect me to think that on the off chance he met up with you he’d be so organised as to have such an item with him?”

He was completely sceptical about anything I said and as he continued with his line of reasoning I saw how thin my line of argument was.

“This seems a very farfetched story Smith and I have to say I’m not keen on people lying about things in an attempt to get others into trouble.”

“But SIR, that’s unfair. I have complained about Cuddy before and the things he says and does to me but, well, I never have a witness but that isn’t to say it doesn’t happen.”

“Indeed not Smith but do you know he and several of his friends have complained about you?”
Cuddy had mentioned that so it looks like he’d thought ahead.

“I know you and he have been at loggerheads for quite some time but this,” he spread his hands to take in my bulging and smelly padding, “is just too much. I’ll call you parents now and hope they can do something.”


I was excused and made to sit in the hallway still wearing Cuddy’s messy nappy. I hadn’t been offered the chance to change, or return to class and retrieve my bag which had fresh nappies, I’d been told by a very annoyed Headmaster to “WAIT”.

As I sat pondering what would happen next I knew he was on the phone to my parents. They had already said that should they hear anything from school about nappies they wouldn’t let me wear them anymore.

Meanwhile the Head had sent for Cuddy and it was with some surprise that I saw my nemesis walking up the hallway.

“Christ Smith you stink, what have you done in your pants?”

Although I was intimidated I needed to say something.

“You know perfectly well… you… you… you did this to me.”

“Smith, I don’t know what goes on in that head of yours but this constant blaming others for your babyish ways is not fair.”

Not fair? NOT FAIR? I could have screamed as he sat down beside me and gave me that sly smile.

“I hope your mummy will be here soon to take her baby away and change his stinky, smelly …”

He was whispering the words when the door opened and we were both beckoned back into the Heads office.


“Yes sir… what can I do for you?”

He was even slimy with the Head yet I already knew I had no chance.

Mr Blacklock explained the charges against him and looked at times surprised, amused and hurt – god he should be on stage. He was appalled at the idea that anyone would bring in a dirty nappy, let alone put it on someone else.

“Smith alleges that it’s from your baby cousin.”

“Well, that’s a lie… I don’t have a baby cousin.” He reasoned with the Head.

I butted in.

“His baby brother, his baby brother, he’s always comparing me to his baby brother…”

I was out of control and very angry.

“But sir, this is yet another lie. I don’t have a baby brother. I think Smith should get his facts right before he spreads more malicious gossip and unfounded accusations…”

The Head looked at me waiting for a response.

“Well Smith?”

The innocent look on Cuddy’s face was unbelievable.

“Can I go now sir? Smith’s smelly nappy is quite overpowering…”

I could see he was going to add something vindictive but thought better of it as the Head told him to return to his lessons.

“Well Smith… it’s your word against his and I have to say… it doesn’t look good on your part. Anyway, your mother will be here soon…” he said distractedly as he returned to his desk and started sorting through some papers.

“Can I get my school bag sir it has a change in…?”

“You came prepared?” He enquired incredulously.

He looked at me quite dismissively at that moment.

“Wait outside for your mother…”

I could hear him say “You’re a disgrace” under his breath.


Cuddy had made me look a liar and a not very good liar at that. He’d played the Head easily, although how much he believed him, compared to how much he disliked me, I wasn’t sure. However, I was sitting in a stinking and very uncomfortable disposable waiting for mum… I was sure she wouldn’t be too pleased about the state I was in.

There was something else grinding away at the back of my mind and it was something Quentin had said. The disposables I’d been put in weren’t baby sized they were for someone a lot bigger, even bigger than me. Despite my discomfort I giggled at the idea it might be Cuddy’s own and then an awful thought crossed my mind – had I been wearing Cuddy’s own poop all this time.

The idea made me want to throw up and I sat stock still desperately wanting not to spread the muck around further. Not only that but I felt totally devastated, humiliated and started to cry, it was then mum arrived.


I sat crying like the little kid I felt I was. I’d been totally destroyed by Cuddy, and I was quite possibly sat in his poop. I think mum could smell the problem well before she got to me but it was she who was disgusted.

“Haven’t they let you change?”

I simply hugged her and let out a cry that might just have woken a few of the school’s ancient spirits.

At this Mr Blacklock opened his office door to greet mum.

“Ahh Mrs Smith I…”

Mum didn’t give him chance to speak she was on him in seconds demanding to know why I hadn’t been allowed to change.

He looked a little surprised at this verbal assault but invited her into his inner-sanctum but left me snivelling out in the hallway.

I could hear the Head trying to be reasonable but mum was not easily placated. However, the volume decreased and a more rational discussion took place. I heard the name Cudthorpe crop up time and time again. I also heard the terms protection, nappies, disposables, faeces, baby and psychiatrist being mentioned on a number of occasions.

I was shivering in fear, guilt and shame as mum emerged, slightly downbeat but determined to sort her quaking messy boy out.
“Come on Michael… let’s get you out of here.”

She wasn’t angry but I could tell that the conversation hadn’t gone well for me.


I was tearful and fearful the short drive home. I just didn’t know what to say to mum or what had gone on between the headmaster and her… but I’d never felt more uncomfortable sitting in a messy nappy.

We went up to the bathroom and she stripped me naked taking great care to not let the mess spread any further.
I tried to tell her it wasn’t my fault, I hadn’t pooped in my nappy but she just gently shushed me and told me not to worry. She saw for herself that there was a disposable held within the confines of my fabric padded nappy so was able to see I wasn’t lying… but nothing was said.

After an initial clean-up she aimed me towards the shower and told me to give myself a thorough scrubbing. I poured a load of shampoo on my head and lathered it up and let the torrent of bubbles cascade down my boyish frame; rubbing and scouring as the foam got to each part of my body.

Of course I scrubbed hard at my groin and bum, the area that had so recently been possibly contaminated by Cuddy poo. My tiny cock and balls made my emotions sink as I rubbed and rubbed in an effort to get them permanently clean. Everything seemed to shrink to nothing and my eyes filled with tears again.
Mum came in at that moment; it appeared she only ever saw me crying these days.

“I’ll never be clean, I’ll never…” She stopped me from scrubbing myself raw, then wrapped me in a towel and guided me to my room.

This story is written by Les Lea

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

Chapter 5

Chapter 7

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Baby Dick Part 5

This story is written by Les Lea

Although Quentin had been the only person at school who offered any kind of support, real support that is, my best mate Kevin couldn’t quite get to grips with me wearing such a bulky item under my trousers. Of course I hadn’t told him about me wanting to be babied, though he understood that Cuddy and his gang were out to humiliate me as much as they could, he was drifting away and spending more time with other friends.

Since that offer of support I’d nodded the occasional acknowledgement to Quentin but we’d not got close. He didn’t seem to be in any rush to support me further, although he did look down at my bulging groin, raised his eyebrows and pulled a slight grimace. I think he was feeling sorry for me yet I was desperate to say it wasn’t as bad as it looked. I thought I could trust Quentin with the news that all this ‘babying’ business and the forced nappy wearing was actually fun for me and that I was happy to use Cuddy and his gang of low-lives for my own benefit.

The official excuse for me wearing a nappy – I was currently experiencing a period of incontinence (the reason was never explained). However, because everyone had seen the posters of me wearing just a disposable, and saw the bulk under my trousers, everyone knew I was wearing nappies now. Most believed it was down to Cuddy, a few bought the excuse but no one suspected that I was wearing because I wanted to. I was feeling very superior at that moment… but I desperately wanted to share this feeling with someone I thought might appreciate the irony.
The school sissy was quite surprised when I sidled up and started making small talk with him.


Our strained conversation had only been going on for a few minutes when already we were hearing comments about “… the two sissies no doubt swapping recipes” or “deciding on which knickers to wear” or “dress” or… well, the chatter kept coming on what we would no doubt be talking about… and none of it either amusing or polite.

It was like water of a duck’s back for Quentin; he’d heard it all before and didn’t rise to any of the effeminate digs that were being bandied about.

“Aren’t you fed up with all this… and… these insults?” I felt sorry for him having had to put up with these constant put downs since he started at senior school.

“To them I am effeminate, I don’t do or like the things they do but I don’t care. Mummy and daddy are happy with me being me rather than trying to be something I’m not… and I like being me.”

Then he added with a dismissive shrug. “So stuff ‘em.”

He saw my wry smile.

I didn’t think the fact he still called his parents mummy and daddy particularly helped his case but he wasn’t bothered.

“I’ll play with my dollies when I get home whether they like it or not.”

I wasn’t sure if he was kidding or not but I didn’t get a chance to pose the question as he changed the subject.

“You wear a nappy now. Cuddy is forcing you to be something you’re not and…”

He saw the look on my face change.

“or… I could be mistaken.”

He waited for me to say what was more obvious than I thought bubbling under the surface of our conversation.

“Promise you won’t say anything to… anyone?”

Quentin smiled.

“Okay… but I think I know what you’re going to say.”

I looked at him as if to say “I don’t think so” but he did.

“You like to wear nappies?”


It was both a question and a statement and I suddenly wondered if everyone knew and wasn’t actually kidding anybody.

“Ohhh God… how did you know… is it that obvious… does everyone else know?” I panicked.

Quentin got on his superior high horse.

“Don’t worry, these people are morons,” he pointed to a group from our class who were trying to come up with something funny to say about us two being together. “Not a single original thought

in their stupid little heads… they wouldn’t catch a nuance if it smacked them in the face.”

Of course, even though his words carried with them a certain anger; his voice was soft and gentle.

Close up he was well-groomed, hair immaculate and his eyes sparkled with life. In class he was top in most subjects, always first with his hand up to answer a question and never cheated or copied.

He was bullied for answers by bigger, more aggressive boys who tried to make him do their homework but he couldn’t be manipulated much to the frustration of the clods in class.

He returned to the subject in hand.

“I just didn’t see the anger one might expect when such embarrassing images have been exposed to everyone.”

I turned red because he seemed to read me so easily.

“Your secret’s safe with me but, don’t underestimate Cuddy, he may be a bully but he isn’t stupid…”

I nodded in agreement.

“He’ll have his eye on you…”

“How do you escape his claws?”

I hoped he had some secret info on him he would share.

“Ohh, he’s tried many times, he’s even had me crying and running to teacher but then you came along and he seemed happier to torment Baby Dick than the school sissy. I still get shoved and mocked but a scream usually keeps them away because I go public when they start on me.”

He looked around the playground and pointed to a couple in our class who had been more than happy to taunt me about wearing a nappy.

“Most aren’t as tough as they pretend and Cuddy, who is very tough, can do without the aggro him picking on me can cause for his family… dad being a cop and all.”

He didn’t say this with any pride it was all just so matter of fact.

“Although I think it’s the screaming that scares them away.” He grinned and shrugged.

We chatted for the rest of the break, occasionally being harassed by some senior numbskull who thought he’d get in on the act. By the end of the break I was quite in awe of the school sissy and how he’d got himself sorted at such a young age.

He even let slip that he knew just how nice it was to wear a nappy and patted my padding as if to emphasise the point. However, he didn’t add anything further and as the school bell had rung, it was back to class.


Over the next few days nothing much changed. At home I was left to my own devices so I had to do everything concerned with my nappied life… no offers of help at all. Yet, at school, Cuddy and his mates kept up the daily humiliation of checking and making sure I was wandering around school in a pee-filled nappy. It was strange to see the absolute glee on their faces as they thought my shame was all because of them. I made the correct appeals to be left in peace and begging them to stop my ritual degradation but they seemed to get a kick out of probing down my pants, slipping past the plastic protection and groping the squishy fabric underneath.

The tirade of disgust and comments of me being “Nothing but a fucking baby”, “a no dick nonce”, “a pissy little cunt”… the name calling was all part of their humiliation. It made me feel small and insignificant, as if I had no control over what happened and yet… and yet… I was getting a thrill from it all.


Quentin and I had become beleaguered friends and spent the occasional break in each other’s company. Normally he could be found playing and talking with groups of girls and I wasn’t invited into that set up but, when he was alone I sought him out… I liked his friendship. It also had a bonus effect when our ‘relationship’ (him being my sissy girlfriend and all) was also thrown back in my face by the gang as they pursued further ways to humiliate me. I was now branded as a ‘sissy baby’ a ‘no dick sissy baby’ and various versions on the same theme that were delivered with an elbow or trip by some Cuddy ‘wannabe’.

I never mentioned any of this to my family. They thought I was being very daring in dealing with wearing a nappy to school but as there had been no complaints or letters home from any of the staff I was left alone nothing was said.

I stuck to my duties of keeping my room and bedding clean. I’d thoroughly wash whatever I’d wet and pegged out, then the freshly laundered items would be collected nicely dry when I returned home from school.

I’d become adept at adding soaker pads and pinning the fabric tightly. Once I added plastic pants I thought the silky bulge where once I had nothing to show, now showed I had something.

The bulky bump was what occupied my mind almost 24/7… it was a complete experience. I loved wearing it, I loved touching it, it felt so good hugging my little genitals and though some mocked,

I didn’t care. Often I couldn’t even feel my genitals but that obvious, large, smooth bump was still very gratifying. This huge lump had become my genitals.

That was until one day I was dragged into the boy’s toilet by Archie and the entire gang was there.

“Well Baby Dick,” Cuddy’s voice had a strange tone to it. “It appears that our wetting little baby seems happy to run around in his soaked nappy all day.”

He looked happy about the situation and what he’d achieved but then changed tack.

“So, it’s time he took the next step.”

I wasn’t too sure what the next step was and he allowed me a minute for it to sink in just exactly what it was he wanted me to do.

I stood there dumb (and shaking because I knew something was about to take place that I wasn’t going to like) but didn’t move.

“Time our little Baby Dick took a dump in his nappy… don’t you think?”

A supportive cheer went up from his gang.


I screamed “NO”. This wasn’t something I’d ever planned on doing. The idea of a messy nappy wasn’t on my radar and I’d avoided even doing it by accident by making sure I was in a regular routine and did it the moment I got up. However, hands were dragging down my trousers and plastic pants revealing my thick soaked fabric nappy. I’m sure to the half dozen onlookers I appeared nothing more than a baby about to be changed but Cuddy insisted.

“Come on Baby Dick; fill your nappy like the little sissy I’ve heard you’ve become.”

I shook my head and pleaded with him not to make me. Tears were rolling down my face but they were having no effect on the assembled gang.

“Come on, force one out you big girl”, “…mess that nappy, you know you want to”. There were more comments and insults that I didn’t get as I cried to be let go.
Cuddy was in his element.

“There, there little one,” he soothed, “just squat down, like the little kiddie you are and crap your nappy… I’m sure you’ve done it many times… so come on… just for us.”

“I can’t,” I screamed through tearstained eyes, “I’ve been… already been… (hic) I can’t…”

Fingers were pressing into my belly and squishing the double soaked nappy.

The hubbub died down when Cuddy asked if I was sure I couldn’t manage it.

“Nnnnoooo,” I stammered. “I’ve already been today.”

“Okay, fair enough, if you can’t you can’t.” He seemed at ease with my explanation.

“Perhaps another time?” He looked questioningly at me.


I stood there shaking wearing just a sopping wet nappy and with my trousers and plastic pants bunched around my feet. I was hoping the terror would end but I should have known better.

“The little baby needs to poo and pee-pee in his nappy.” He was using baby talk now and I could feel the threat level rise. “So, I’ll give him a helping hand.”

He produced a plastic bag and unfurled a shitty disposable.

“A present from my baby cousin… a freshly messed in nappy, which I believe has your name on it.”

I was shocked and drew back as he brought the stinking thing nearer.

“Looks like our little baby is going to be wearing shit and piss in his nappy after all.”

A cheer went up from the guys looking on as Cuddy gave them the order to hold me down. He dragged my nappy around my knees and then lay out the messy one from his cousin.
“Lift up his arse.”

Someone grabbed my tiny genitals and hoisted my bum off the floor.

“God look at that tiny thing… I could hardly get hold of it…” I heard someone say.

He quickly slipped the pungent thing under me, all the time I was crying and begging him to stop. I felt my moist bum make contact with the stinking yellowy brown mass and Cuddy wasted no time in pulling it up between my legs and taping it into place.

He seemed to have no problem at all dealing with the smell or the revolting spectacle that he was inflicting on me.

Most of the onlookers were laughing but I noticed one or two found the entire process gross.

However, Cuddy pulled my nappy over the disposable, yanked up my plastic pants and smoothed it all out. I felt unclean and abused. I could feel the sticky mess sliding around my bum and ooze between my legs. He pulled up my trousers and dragged me to my feet.

“There you are, not difficult at all… just what you’d expect, a baby in a shitty nappy.”

I was horrified. This wasn’t part of my plan and in fact, a dirty nappy was never part of my plan.

Cuddy had ruined everything and I hated him for it.

“I’ll tell the Head just what you’ve done.” I threatened.

He smiled that evil smile again, he wasn’t fazed by any threat I could make.

“You’re a stinky little baby Smith, no one is going to believe you because everyone knows how much you love being a baby and wearing a nappy. Everyone knows that you and your sissy mate have been planning this for some time…”

I tried to deny it but he just smiled. “Everyone here has heard what you and your ‘sissy girlfriend’ had in mind and that you were planning on blaming me.”
He shrugged.

“Some teachers are already aware of your plan… so I doubt if anyone is going to take your complaint very seriously.”

I didn’t know if any of this was true but people will have seen Quentin and me huddled together so no doubt all manner of nasty rumours were circulating.
“However, I do have a few words I want you to use when anyone asks about your ‘accident’. Here’s what you say…. in your best babyish voice ‘Please sir, I done a poo and a pee-pee in my nappy.’

Just so no one is in any doubt about you being a little baby… a shitty little baby at that.”

“I won’t say that, I’ll, I’ll…” My threat was lost as I saw the entire group begin to pack up to leave.

“On a different subject altogether.” Cuddy was in my face. “How’s that sister of yours… I bet she looks pretty hot in a nappy like her baby brother…?”

“You leave Helen alone… you, you…”

“I’ll be waiting on a report back on what words you used when asked about your shit-filled nappy. If it’s not as I’ve said, I’ll be paying a visit to… Helen is it?… and checking for myself.”

This was a threat I couldn’t ignore. I couldn’t let my nappy wearing involve Helen, or any of the family in Cuddy’s spiteful little game. He knew he’d won and I’d do just as he demanded. I shuffled out of the boy’s toilet feeling the clammy, grainy residue invading into, across and against my body. I threw up as I made the playground.


“Smith stinks sir.”

It was Harrison who was bringing it to Mr Henderson’s attention. Harrison was a Cuddy wannabe and no doubt had been put up to this.

It was the beginning of a double maths period, a subject I was useless at so Mr Henderson was no great fan of mine. He already thought I was a waste of space and always looked disgusted when he noticed me wearing padding.

“Shit yourself have you Smith?” He brought laughter to the rest of the class but I just shrunk into my seat unable to say anything I was just too distraught.

“Yes he has.” Harrison and a couple of others agreed.

“What?” Henderson had meant it as a bad joke but now the smell was getting to other people and they were moving away from my vicinity.

“Oh, for crying out loud Smith… what’s happened?”

This was the question I knew Cuddy had been hoping for and I also knew he had enough people who’d grass me up if I didn’t say the line.

“I gone and done a poo and pee-pee in my nappy… sorry sir.”

Mr Henderson looked at me in amazement whilst the rest of the class bust into fits of laughter.

“You fuckin’ big baby Smith” “Shitty cunt” “Christ what a stink” “You’ll need a cartload of nappies…”

Others simply held their noses, whilst other revelled in my baby voice.

“Smith’s a fuckin’ baby, Smith’s a fuckin’ baby…” “Someone get him a dummy and a bottle” “Good God no, we don’t want him to shit anymore”

Everyone had some comment and Mr Henderson was at a loss as to what to do.

“Farron,” The class sissy looked my way but there was no judgement on his face. “Can you escort Mr Smith to the Head’s office?” He couldn’t help himself. “We don’t want our little stinker getting lost now do we?”

Quentin was up and by my side almost immediately. The vile comments carried on, this time including those directed his way. Two sissy babies together was the general opinion, no doubt we’d be changing each other’s nappies as soon as we got out the door. Typical of Quentin he was more concerned about me than bothering to respond to a pack of jokers.

Henderson called order and reluctantly, as we exited the school room, the name calling became silenced.

“Can I open a window sir?” It was Harrison building his part, much to the appreciation of most of the class.

“Mmmm, I think that might be a good idea.” The teacher shrugged as if he didn’t quite know what to make of what had just taken place.

“Now, after that little break,” Mr Henderson got back to work. “As you can see… when x is the coefficient…”

This story is written by Les Lea

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

Chapter 4

Chapter 6

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Baby Dick Part 4

This story is written by Les Lea

In the morning I was extremely wet but realised I’d have to see to myself as no one had volunteered to change me. As I waddled to the bathroom mum noticed and said that it was fine for me to wear what I liked at home but suggested that for school I wear something more appropriate to my age. I hadn’t been planning on wearing a nappy to school, I thought it would be just too inconvenient, but with mum’s words ringing in my ears there was no doubt I’d be wearing my white briefs under my uniform… they were similar to what about 50% of the boys wore anyway.

Once at school I was still getting comments but the novelty of the poster campaign, and the vigilance of the teachers, had calmed things down. It wasn’t until last period that, as I walked from one classroom to the next past the boy’s toilets, that I was accosted by Archie Simmons. Archie was one of Cuddy’s nastier henchmen, some sort of demented cousin who most teachers were scared of and who dragged me forcefully into the empty room.

Toilets, especially boy’s toilets, have a particular smell and a foreboding atmosphere at the best of times but being held by the lapels by this brute really scared me and I knew any scream for help wouldn’t be answered. It was a generally known fact that if Cuddy and his gang was inside… the toilet was the last place you wanted to be so had the place to themself.

Over some time he’d managed to make the boy’s washroom a ‘no go’ area for teachers who used to check in on them to make sure there were no smokers or anything untoward going on. He’d complained about some innocent teachers hanging around the toilet and complained to the headmaster that he didn’t think it right that perverts should be employed by the school. The ructions that caused meant that he and his gang had free reign when it came to occupying the toilet block with little or no supervision from a patrolling teacher.

He smiled a most cruel smile and with a cold stare that would instantly solidify steam he said that Cuddy had noticed I wasn’t wearing a nappy, even after he’d gone to such lengths to provide me with one. That kind of disrespect could only lead to some “…unpleasant consequences” (I thought Cuddy must have given him the line because I knew he wasn’t capable of coming up with such a phrase) and that in future I’d be expected, as per Cuddy’s instructions, to wear what a Baby Dick should wear in the company of grown-ups.

“A fuckin’ nappy.”

His threat was chilling but the fact that I didn’t get punched at the end of it (he just sort of rearranged my lapels as if he was doing me a favour smartening my clothes up), left me a jittering wreck. This was a new move; no violence just verbal menaces that left you in no doubt as to the consequences of inaction.

However, I thought I’d got off pretty leniently because Archie had a reputation of hitting first and then not bothering to ask the question… that was until I felt the warm glow around my crotch and noticed the wet stain grow. I’d been so terrified my bladder had reacted to the threat. I couldn’t spend any more time in the toilet but splashed some water all down my front. It looked like I’d been caught in a rainstorm by the time I got to class but my excuse of a faulty tap was accepted by the teacher, although there were comments of disbelief from some of my classmates.
“Looks like he really needs a nappy,” I heard being whispered between some of the lads.

By the time I got home I was almost dry and as I stripped off in my room I saw that my pristine white briefs were now a mucky pale orangey colour. It was quite weird really because such a stain in my nappy never produced the disgust I felt at that moment… and I wondered how I’d get mum to let me wear nappies to school. Not that I was scared… I was terrified if I didn’t comply. I didn’t know what to do next, whether to try and find an alternative, use what had been left in my locker or beg mum to get me some disposables. I slipped into a pair of gym shorts and set about doing my homework.


I think mum sensed that something was wrong when she called me down for tea. I’d not spoken to anyone other than a grunt of acknowledgement when Helen asked if I was okay. However, mum came in and noticed my dirty briefs and guessed I’d had an accident. I didn’t tell her what really happened but said that I’d just left it too late to get to the loo and…

I said I was sorry but she had a package with her and opening it up revealed she’d bought me several fabric nappies and plastic pants, plus all the creams and lotions that I associated with having to wear a nappy.

“These,” she said displaying everything on my bed, “are for when you’re feeling little and need the comfort of a nappy.”
She was very matter of fact.

“I’ll help you put them on to begin with but you’ll have to learn yourself because I don’t intend on doing it forever.”

I nodded.

“If you feel the need tonight I’ll come up and supervise when you go to bed but for the moment, your gym shorts will do, so come down for tea.”

I looked at the stuff she’d bought and I was very happy. Despite her saying she wasn’t delirious about me wanting to be little, mum realised that I needed something and if she could make me happy, then she would.

“Mum, I want to wear protection at school.”

I didn’t explain the most recent threat and she arched her eyebrows as if to say “Tell me why”.

“I peed my pants today and… and it shocked me… because I didn’t know I was doing it.”

It was a lame excuse and I’m not sure she believed me but I insisted.

“Look, I think I can get to the boys room if and when I need to but… I like the idea of protection just in case I can’t. Today I had to pretend that a fast flow from the tap had taken me by surprise and soaked my pants, I don’t think that excuse would work again.”


In my head this all sounded convincing but mum looked at me wearily.

“Well,” she eventually said, “it’s up to you. If you think you can cope with that and the comments from your classmates…”
She changed tack.

“Are you sure you’ve thought this through sweetheart? I’m not sure the teachers will be on-board with it.”

“I’d rather folk didn’t know I’d wet my pants rather than worrying about anything else.”

I whined in my best whiney voice.

“Well okay then… it’s your school friends but if any teacher has reason to speak to me or your father… it has to come to a stop… okay?”

What I didn’t know at the time was that dad and mum had already discussed all of this and dad was of the opinion that as soon as I had to do everything for myself (including washing nappies and plastic pants every morning) I’d soon tire of the entire thing and revert back to normality.

I nodded my agreement because my spirits began to rise as I thought about the new stuff she’d bought I’d so soon get to wear. It was only later that it hit me that Cuddy and his mates would be on at me straight away and I’d have to prove I was wearing the ‘proper’ protection.


I didn’t sleep much and even the comfort of a thick disposable didn’t help. All I kept thinking about was Cuddy, and worse still, Archie setting about me because I was wearing the wrong thing. I thought about telling a teacher but knew in the past that they only reacted to something happening, not what a pupil ‘imagined’ might happen. In the meantime, I hoped that the nappy and plastic pants I’d decided to wear would be enough to stave off the humiliation I hoped to avoid but I hadn’t banked on how nasty (or cunning) Cuddy could be.


I got ready for school myself. I was apprehensive but knew I couldn’t escape what was to happen so hoped that by meeting it face on I’d be better prepared. What I had envisioned being a pleasurable experience, putting myself into thick protection, was a nervy experience. I couldn’t quite get the nappy to fold correctly or the pins to hold it firm, in the end I had to ask mum to come and help, which thankfully she did.

However, she complained that I’d forgotten the golden rule and that was to use copious amounts of anti-rash cream and powder first off before the nappy was applied. Then she took fastidious care in how it was put on and showed me the secret of a tight fit; it was all down to the pinning. As promised mum had bought me some plastic pants and they were a thick, shiny white style that hugged everything in place. I was then ready for the rest of my uniform and I was surprised to see that the bulge wasn’t as evident as I thought it might have been.

Strangely, that first day in a nappy at school, although anxious, it wasn’t Cuddy and his chums that noticed. In fact, they didn’t bother me at all and it was only Jeremy and his mates in my class that mentioned I looked like I was wearing a diaper (yes, they called it a diaper) and, like everyone I’ve ever known, continually patted my padding whenever they were in range. They weren’t nasty about it, just sort of acknowledging it was probably a sensible precaution with Cuddy on the warpath.

No one was in any doubt that it had been Cuddy who had forced me into a disposable and taken those photos to embarrass me, but no one saw it happen so couldn’t come to my defence. Of course there were those who loved to see others in distress or being humiliated because it meant it wasn’t they who were on the end of such cruelty. They even cheered the demise of the weaker element and ganged up a bit themselves, safe in the knowledge that they were at least stronger than someone else. There is a lot of bullying goes on at all levels of education and it’s not always done by the pupils.


In fact, on the fourth day of my nappies-to-school regime I learned that Cubby and his mates had been suspended for a week owing to a ‘disagreement’ with one of the teachers. So, I hadn’t needed to wear them at all, which was a shame because, I could have enjoyed wearing them if I hadn’t been in constant fear about a sudden Cuddy confrontation.

However, I was wearing them 24/7 and was getting used to the feeling they gave me. I’d taken on-board mum’s suggestions and process and found that it did leave me feeling very secure indeed.

I was also getting used to wearing plastic pants over the nappy and thoroughly enjoyed that extra layer of protection.

Dad was surprised at how easily (and well) I took to washing my own stuff, hanging it out to dry and wandering around the house wearing nothing else. My brother and sister smiled and patted my padded bum as I passed but no negativity… it was in its own way quite thrilling.

At home I wasn’t on edge and my nappies gave me the feeling I thought I wanted. However, the fact that I wasn’t being treated as a toddler was frustrating and none of my family would play the game. The ridiculous thing; and it didn’t occur to me straight away, was that Cuddy and his mates were quite intent on treating me as a ‘no dick toddler’ and was so scared of what they might do… I neglected this important piece of data.


The following week Cuddy was back and just before the bell went at school on Monday morning, Archie cornered me and marched me into the boy’s urinals. There Cuddy stuck his hand down the back of my pants and was gratified to feel the silky rubber pants and padding.

“Well there’s a good little Baby Dick.” His voice was slimy but he thought he’d won a victory over me and I’d had no alternative than to do as he commanded. I didn’t put him right.
“Plastic pants as well… my baby brother wears these… you look pretty much alike.”

He nodded to his friends as if he was in total control of the situation.

“Okay Baby Dick… every morning there’ll be an inspection by one of us… so you’d better keep that baby padding on… or there’ll be trouble.”

I think that last bit was for the benefit of his gang, just to make sure his threat was noted and of course to prove that all the kids in school were pretty terrorised by him. For the first time I relaxed a little because I had no intention of wearing anything else. He wasn’t to know I wore these at home and if he thought I was under his influence and so scared I would wear a nappy just because he said so, well, I, erm, um, well, I might be a little scared but I wore because I wanted to. I convinced myself of that.


Although I desperately wanted to pee in my nappy, at school I thought it better to rush to the boy’s toilets when I needed to go. Although it was a bit of a faff to wriggle my fingers up the leg hole and release my willy I thought it better than changing myself there. Despite the constant patting from Cuddy and his mates (and one or two others who knew) the system seemed to be working and for a week things were going as planned.

The following Monday morning at my inspection Cuddy was very aggressive when he plunged his hand down the front of my trousers. He could feel the plastic pants and padding but there was something missing.

“You’re not wet.”

For the first time in over a week I got scared.

“I gather you’ve been using the boy’s toilets,” he snarled in my face. “That’s not a place for little baby dicks like you. It’s out of bounds from now on…” he paused. “I have eyes everywhere so don’t

think for a moment I won’t know if you try to change your new rule.”

The smile returned to his face as he smirked his latest command.

“From now on…. you’ll go in your nappy like the little baby dick you are.”

He pulled down my pants to reveal me standing there in just my protection.

“You’d better start now.”


I was flummoxed. I didn’t know how to respond except that I didn’t want to wet myself there and then. However, the decision wasn’t mine, he wanted me to pee my pants but I begged him not to make me.

He threatened and smacked the back of my head and I knew his warning was about to take on a more physical stance.

I willed myself to pee and after a few more smacks to my head I eventually squeezed out a spurt.

“Ohh more than that baby,” he chuckled, “I want to see this thing filled.” He patted my padded bottom.

Surprisingly, after that first laboured spurt, the rest flowed with no trouble and I could feel the warming glow as he squeezed my nappy and felt its growing sogginess.
“That’s a good baby… now you’ll be checked more regularly and that nappy better be soaked every time or… I wouldn’t like to be you.”
The threat was uncompromising and I felt tears spring to my eyes.

He seemed satisfied he’d made me wet myself, his friends had witnessed the power he had and, to top it all, I’d cried. He swaggered off completely pleased with what he’d done and boasting to his mates that they should inspect my sopping padding at every opportunity. I’m not sure that anyone wanted that particular task but they did as Cuddy said… they didn’t want to be made to pee their own pants on demand.


I was left with my trousers around my ankles and a full and wet bloated nappy I now had to contend with. I knew with the departure of the gang that the braver elements of the school would soon be using the facility and I had to react quickly. I didn’t have anything to change into so, with the warmth still spreading around my genitals, I speedily hauled up my pants and got out as soon as I could.

What I didn’t think about was there’d be an audience waiting to use the toilet, too scared to enter whilst Cuddy was conducting ‘business’ but a loud whisper began to circulate that I’d wet myself even though I didn’t think anyone could see. Perhaps I was naive enough to believe Cuddy and his mates would have kept my secret – alas, no.

To begin with the plastic pants kept it all contained but as the day progressed, and more pee was added to the sodden material, so the seepage began. I arrived home and both the nappy and my trousers were wet through. I was embarrassed because so many people knew I wore a nappy… and still I wet my pants.

I hid all this from my family. I thought I could deal with it myself and I didn’t want mum and dad creating at school. Dad had already said that if there was any comment from staff and it was brought to his attention ALL my nappy exploits would come to an end.


The following day I didn’t want to go to school but decided I’d double the thickness by inserting a soaker pad or two and wear the most robust rubber pants I had in my collection. The problem this caused was the bulk was now incredibly visible and there was no getting away from my pronounced waddle. A couple of teachers asked me about it but I said I was experiencing a bout of incontinence , so mum had insisted I wear proper protection… she didn’t want me to miss any classes. This seemed to allay any suspicions, which I was pleased about.

Cuddy took it as a personal triumph that I now had to wear double thickness to collect a day’s pee and he and his mates took great delight in making sure I was wet all the time. When Archie got me alone one time he even insisted I filled my nappy just for him. This was one guy I didn’t dare refuse, which, judging by his maniacal laughter once I’d done so, was the correct decision.

“You are such a fuckin’ baby aren’t you Smith?”

I knew it was a rhetorical question but nodded anyway.

“Wearing a nappy and fuckin’ pissin’ yerself… fuck… you should be in a toddler group not here.”

I couldn’t have agreed more. The wet thickness of my nappy was testament to my juvenile status and it was only when Archie had said what he had that I realised that Cuddy and his gang were, perhaps without meaning to, giving me that babyish element I was missing. Outwardly I was being forced to do what I was doing yet inside… well… just let me say my feelings were a little more complex.

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 3

Chapter 5

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