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
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