This story is written by Les Lea
I didn’t see Simon again, the teacher said that his mum was now home-schooling him, which greatly upset me. I still found it difficult to make friends with others in class so I immersed myself in painting and music. I tried to learn to play the recorder, which Julie said was an instrument of torture when I tried to practice in my bedroom. Often, if she was around, she would distract me with one of her games and even though I was getting older, she still had me dressed either in some of her old clothes or in a nappy so she and her friends could practice changing me and in so doing become ‘good mummies’ for when they had babies of their own. My rebellious streak had disappeared as quickly as Simon and my ‘big boy briefs’ and it was back to normal in our household.
Julie redoubled her insistence that at night I was to wear protection. She even doubled the thickness of my nappy and I found bedtime a bit of an ordeal but she wouldn’t let me wear pyjamas; a thick nappy and plastic pants were all I was allowed with an occasional t-shirt if I was lucky. In retrospect I was being punished but of course, all the ‘love’ and ‘attention’ she was lavishing on me was for her benefit. She even told mum that I’d begun to wet the bed again, “No doubt caused by the stress of school”, she added sympathetically, so my dear mother didn’t object to me being put to bed dressed the way I was. She believed anything that Julie said, and why shouldn’t she, her daughter had more of less brought me up so why would she possibly lie.
One night I did wet myself, having been given a huge glass of cola just before I went to bed. Julie had come into my room, checked on my nappy, felt that I was wet and had slipped away pretending she didn’t know. Somehow she’d managed to get mum to check on me so she was able to discover for herself why her son needed to keep his protection on at night. I couldn’t deny I had wet myself, so I couldn’t fight what was coming next.
Mum, Julie and I went shopping for new summer clothes. I was quite excited as I thought I’d get to choose a new outfit and I’d seen some of the boys in class wearing t-shirts with action figures on that I liked. In fact, the film that the characters were from had spawned a huge range of clothing for boys and girls and I hoped that mum would buy me some.
Julie had got me ready and insisted that I now wear a nappy when we were out, as she said, “Just to be on the safe side.” I was relieved that she hadn’t made me wear a dress but there was absolutely no doubt what I had on under my shorts. The bulge and the fact that my shorts were very short so my nappy and plastic pants could easily be seen broadcast to everyone who was interested that I was a seven year-old (almost 8) who still wet himself.
We visited a big, out-of-town mall so that mum could do all her shopping in one place. I stayed with mum as she looked around for clothes to buy for herself and no matter how much I tried to ask for things, the answer was always “Later” or “Maybe” or “Let’s wait for Julie”. Meanwhile, Julie was secretly buying stuff for me. She just filled up the trolley with the items she wanted, no matter what it was, and mum would just pay for it, such was the trust mum had with her. At one point I think mum had got so fed up with me whinging on about a new t-shirt with the film character on it, she relented and bought it for me. I was so excited and grateful I didn’t complain for the rest of the visit.
The mall was quite busy and we were there for a long time. I noticed other kids sniggering and pointing to my nappy hanging down from my shorts but there was nothing I could do about it and I noticed Julie was smiling at every comment. When I asked mum if I could go to the toilet she said it was miles away from where we were so, why didn’t I use the nappy as that’s what it was designed for. I was shocked at such an idea but Julie was in agreement with mum and after trying to keep it in for ages, in the end I just couldn’t any longer. I was waiting in line at the cash register when I felt the first involuntary spurt but once it started I couldn’t hold back and I flooded my nappy, which seemed to swell in my shorts. Thankfully, the plastic pants seemed to act as a barrier and my shorts gave no indication of what I’d done. However, once we’d passed the checkout Julie noticed I was walking differently and without asking, she pulled down my shorts and checked my nappy.
“Ughhh, Danni’s wet himself again,” she said. “Don’t worry I’ll change him.”
Mum smiled her thanks and Julie gripped my hand, grabbed one of the bags and dragged me to a toilet opposite where we were. If I’d know I could have easily made it that far but I didn’t and now it was just too convenient for Julie. There was a baby’s changing room attached and there were two or three mothers in their taking care of their young off-spring. They were babies or toddlers and I was by far the eldest but that didn’t stop Julie picking me up, despite my protest, and laying me out on the plastic foam table. I was telling her it could wait until we got home but she was adamant that I was to be changed there and then. Of course, stupidly I had thought that we hadn’t brought any extra nappies with us, and of course we hadn’t, but she had been busy buying and I now found out what was in the bags.
I was acting up and the fact that there was an audience didn’t stop me shouting that I didn’t want to be changed. I saw the sympathy on the faces of the other mother’s as this ‘poor young girl’ had to deal with this objectionable, noisy, belligerent boy… who she was only trying to clean-up and make dry. However, when Julie said that I’d get smacked if I didn’t calm down and let her get on with it, I could tell from the way she was looking at me that I’d better not push her. The defiance left me as her determined face left me in no doubt that any more disruption, argument or noise would result in a smack. The second I gave in she whipped off my shorts, pulled down the plastic pants and released my soaked nappy. The cool air rushing about my boyish ‘willie’ felt peculiar after the warm embrace of my pee-filled protection, however, as she opened a carton of wet-wipes and proceeded to clean me – front and back she was not interested in my obvious humiliation.
Julie realised she had no powder and asked a nearby lady, who was just finishing sprinkling some over her baby girl, if she could spare some. The woman smiled and handed it to her, which was followed by a few of the other women offering help. Lotion, oil and extra padding were all offered and she happily took the lot. Thanking everyone and saying how kind they all were, helping her and her ‘unfortunate incontinent brother’. I didn’t know at the time what the word meant but the women’s look of pity on my sister told me I’d either been very naughty, or they thought she was some kind of martyr.
Some of the mothers had left but one or two hung around just in case she needed any further help. However, she couldn’t have planned it better as she pulled out a huge terry nappy, folded it into a triangle and placed it under my well powdered bottom. Then seeing that she had two thick absorbent pads that had been given to her by the mums still milling around she folded them into the nappy and pulled the entire thing up between my legs. It was huge and spread my legs far apart but she wasn’t finished. The plastic pants were retrieved from the soggy pile and, with some difficulty, pulled into place.
Now she pulled off my top and fed my arms into a new, clean t-shirt she produced from her bag. She pulled it down and only when it was in place did I notice the childish images of animals all over it. I was about to protest but I noticed that look in her eye and held my tongue. Suddenly she was fastening some press-studs between my legs and I was wearing, what looked to me when I saw my reflection in the mirror, like a large baby-grow. This was too much and I started screaming and shouting at her. There was only one mum left and she was exiting as I started acting up. With a look of absolute malice Julie threw my soggy nappy and shorts into the bin, dragged me to my feet, spanked my padded bum and in no uncertain terms told me to behave.
Although it didn’t hurt I was in shock, in all the time we’d been brother and sister she had hardly so much as raised her voice to me. This sudden turn of events cowed me completely and I meekly did what she wanted. She told me to agree with anything she said to mum or she’d spank my bare bottom when we got home. So, there I was, in a mall, in a thick, thick nappy and looking more babyish than I ever remember when I was a baby and my sister was looking pleased with herself. She told my mother that there had been loads of mothers changing their children in the room and things had got misplaced or taken in the confusion. My shorts and top had gone missing but thankfully a couple of the women had helped and offered some items they had… so that was how I ended up looking the way I did.
The way Julie told the tale it all sounded so plausible. I’m not sure how much, or if indeed any of it she believed, but mum said she was just thankful that I’d been dressed in something. However, I was led through the mall, waddling with difficulty in my extremely bulky nappy and wearing baby clothes. Julie was holding tightly onto my hand and occasionally whispering threats to me if I didn’t stop looking so miserable. It was difficult to be cheerful and I suppose, not surprisingly, I started to sob. I think this little touch added to my babyishness and was the cherry on the cake for Julie.
This story is written by Les Lea
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