This story is written by Les Lea
Standing at the prow of his ship, ‘Jason’ navigated his way through the tumultuous seas. In the distance a small white glow was the beacon to where he was heading. His short, shimmering tunic flapped around in the wind lifting up and revealing… butterfly knickers? On closer inspection it was the face of Simon staring out intently at the growing white light as the island approached. Now the glow was revealed, the much searched for fleece was in fact… me hanging in a tree… wearing what my sister had dressed me in. Simon looked terrific in my tunic as he strode up to the tree armed with his sword and…
“Wake up babykins…” Julie was gently shaking me from my dream. “Wakey-wakey, rise and shine, let’s get you…”
I yawned, rubbed my eyes and suddenly realised I was still sucking on the dummy.
“You’re so sweet in your fab new pyjamas,” she kissed my forehead. “You look like you’ve had quite a night,” she said as she pulled down my bedding and checked my nappy.
For the first time in quite some time my bed was soaked. Thankfully I’d been sleeping on a rubber sheet for some time so it was just me and the bedding that suffered.
“Mmmm, better get you cleaned up and this stuff put in the washing machine. Your new jammies aren’t very waterproof.” I could hear her mutter under her voice about thicker protection and plastic pants next time.
I’m not too sure why I had wet so much, although the stormy seas I’d just been dreaming about may have given some clue. Jason and the search for the Golden Fleece had been the story that Julie had been telling me last thing but I wasn’t sure how Simon had ended up as ‘Jason’. He was wearing my tunic, apart from those knickers, but I have to say he looked the part and quite heroic… even his flimsy nylon knickers didn’t detract from that fact. However, my involvement in my dream-world had been disappointing. Cast as the fleece wasn’t a very heroic part and I could feel it hanging heavily as Julie began to peel me from my fluffy prison. It was like half the world’s ocean’s had been soaked up by the fabric, it was so wet and substantial sagging between my legs.
Ever efficient, Julie had me stripped, the bed stripped, the windows opened to air my room and had left me dry but naked sat on the edge of my bed. As she went downstairs to sort out the washing she told me to wait until she returned before I got dressed.
She was taking quite some time so I took it upon myself to get ready. I sprinkled a bit of powder around myself and found my white pull-ups with the happy smiling princess on the front. This was the only underwear that I could see so I slipped them on and decided that I wanted to spend the day as ‘Jason’ so put on the rest of my tunic. The sandals were too fiddly to fasten up by myself so I padded downstairs barefoot. Mum was in the kitchen drinking coffee and reading a script for a new campaign. She took one look at me.
“And how is the hero today… did you sleep well?”
I beamed at being referred to as a hero and got myself some juice and tucked in to the cereal that she’d just poured for me. After a short while I told her how much I had enjoyed the party and seeing Simon again.
“Mmmm that poor boy,” I wasn’t sure what mum meant. “His mum is very strange… wanting to keep him dressed as a girl… very strange.”
I wriggled a little uncomfortably in my tunic hearing mum say such a thing about someone else. I’d been dressed as a girl, on and off, for most of my life and she’d never said anything about it before but, I swallowed a spoonful of Corn Flakes, and asked if we could invite him around again soon.
“If his mother will let him,” again she seemed very dismissive of her but she saw the confusion on my face and realised that she may be speaking about things I didn’t understand. Her face brightened, “Yes of course sweetheart, he can come over any time.”
I was happy about that so finished my breakfast and went to play on my new piano. I’d been fiddling around with a new idea I had for a tune when Julie came in looking a bit annoyed. I’d seen that face many times recently and I stiffened when she said “I thought I told you to wait.”
I felt a chill run up my spine and realised that my heroic little tunic probably wasn’t the warmest item to wear for everyday clothing.
She pulled me to my feet but her expression softened, “Look,” she said as she fluffed up the pleats in it, “you’ll get it all dirty if you wear it all the time.” Her voice was all concern, which wasn’t what I was expecting. “You’ll damage it if you don’t take good care of it… why not change and only wear it for special occasions?
I could see her point but I wanted to be a hero again, and I suppose somehow claim it back from Simon, after all this outfit made me feel like I was special. However, as she took my arm and led me upstairs I knew that her suggestion is what we’d be doing. Once again she hung it up with care and said how fantastic I looked in it but that we should just keep it for when we wanted to impress… a point she kept repeating. So, it was back to pull-ups and shorts and a jumper, which I had to agree, were a lot warmer to wear than just a short tunic and I began to wonder how the Ancient Greeks managed.
Some of the toys and action figures I’d received as presents were also from the TV show I enjoyed so much so, I played with them in battles or stories that I made up. I hoped Julie would join in and then perhaps what we played together during the day could become a version of a story to be told at night. With my new fluffy but leaky ‘pyjamas’ (as Julie insisted on calling them) drying off and in need of further waterproofing, this eight year-old was back to a regime of thick nappies and plastic security. In truth, that night I’d actually got used to the soft fleecy feel of the material and had to admit that although the overall effect was babyish, they were oddly very comfortable and comforting to wear. However, I also now had a new teddy and dummy that my sister was pretty keen I should use. If I didn’t clutch my teddy tight enough, or suck on my dummy enthusiastically enough she said that there were going to be no more stories until I could prove to her that I loved both. So, with my thick nappy and pants gripped by my short onesie, which was tightly buttoned between my legs, I gave each one the fervour that was expected.
I think for some reason mum’s encounter with Mrs McKay had set her thinking and, though it had been a long time in coming, she thought my wetting might be a symptom of something else. When mum booked me an appointment to see the doctor Julie had told me in no uncertain terms to tell him that I enjoyed dressing up and more especially I loved her looking after me. Since the spanking I both loved and feared my sister and had found that it was always best just to go along with what she said rather than argue. She also convinced me that the doctor would take me away and put me in a home if I didn’t do exactly as she said and that would upset mum. I was absolutely terrified of even seeing the doctor let alone speaking to him.
In the surgery I was continually on the verge of tears. I couldn’t speak and as the doctor examined me I was crying for my mummy, even though she was only inches away. I was so petrified that, whilst he was listening to my heart, I wet my pull-ups and it seeped down my leg onto his examination table, which set me off bawling. The people in the waiting room must have wondered what the doctor was doing to cause so much hysterical howling. Mum seemed embarrassed and surprised at my reaction and was desperately trying to calm me down but I just kept pleading with her not to let the doctor send me away.
The doctor must have dealt with similar problems a thousand times because he went to a cupboard, found a disposable nappy and left my mum to change me as he typed some things on a computer. Mum did her best but I suppose this only confirmed what Julie had been saying to her… I was just a big baby. When he returned I was sat up, nervously shivering and wrapped in the rather large disposable, he said that I could get dressed and mum helped me with my shirt and shorts, which did nothing to hide my new super-large underwear.
The doctor and mum talked around me; about my health history (I was rarely sick), was I good at school, did I wet in class, how long had it been a problem…etc etc? Meanwhile, as they talked I shook nervously as I tried to come to terms with this grown-up nappy sprouting from the top and legs of my shorts. This seemed much worse than anything that Julie had made me wear in public but all I could do was sniff back the tears and try not look too scared (I was failing badly in that).
He didn’t think there was anything physically wrong with me but thought that his colleague, a psychiatrist, might have an opinion and phoned through to book an appointment. I was ‘lucky’ because I could get in to see him later that day as there had just been a cancellation. Mum nodded her agreement and pretty soon, after we’d had lunch out, I found myself in another doctor’s waiting room wondering what would happen next.
This story is written by Les Lea
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