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.
“Cudthorpe.”
“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
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