This story is written by Les Lea
At school I was spending a lot of time with Miss Simms. Like the other women in my life, when she asked or told me to do something I did it, so it was no surprise to find me entering just about every music competition she could find. She was of the opinion that I was ‘super-talented’; had a terrific voice, wrote songs and played the piano… and to her undying credit… she pushed me to excel in each of these areas.
It had been well over a year since my first, disastrous public appearance when I’d wet myself on stage but since then I had found confidence and a talent that had apparently been lying dormant. I loved performing now and was more than happy to go along with anything that Miss Simms suggested. Perhaps she became a surrogate Julie and I liked the fact that she had, to some extent, taken charge of my life as I’m sure without her I would never have found what I now have.
She’d known about me wearing nappies since that very first performance and she was one of those teachers who was very close to her students; we nine year-olds got loads of praise, lots of hugs and always positive comments. She was also the teacher who was constantly patting my bottom when I’d done something well. I loved this bond she had with her class and I liked even more the closeness she shared with me.
Mum thought Miss Simms was fantastic. Because of me they had become friends and mum was so pleased to see me blooming in a way that no one had thought. Her constant encouragement and the fact that she gave over much of her own spare time to support my talent meant that she had almost become part of the family. She was aware of my ‘dressing up’ and though she wasn’t in a position to dissuade or encourage me in that area, she didn’t appear to think it was that odd. In fact, on one competition where we had to stay overnight we shared a room and I was surprised to find just how supportive she could be.
Mum had been happy to let Miss Simms chaperone me to a competition in a city up north. It was an early start and an all-day knockout style contest so we went up to stay overnight. Mum had packed my suitcase with my new school uniform (which as I was representing the school I had to wear) however, she had bought me new long trousers, instead of the shorts that I normally wore to class, and I didn’t like them. They felt baggy and ill-fitting and I was very uncomfortable in them and much preferred the shorts. Miss Simms was in agreement, she thought I looked better wearing shorts and smiled in a conspiratorial sort of way saying that they brought out my ‘childlike genius’, which she was sure wouldn’t be lost on the judges.
On the morning of the contest we had a light breakfast in our room after which she told me to take a bath. We’d shared a room, which I loved because, before we went to sleep, she told me stories of some of the great composers, which I found fascinating. Anyway, when I came out of the bathroom Miss Simms had laid out my clothes but also had added a pair of disposables and plastic pants, which I didn’t recognise as my own. I think she saw my eyebrows rise in surprise but she just added that she thought I might be more comfortable wearing them.
Over the past few months I had found that I was wearing pull-ups less and less for school mostly only wearing them at home and, like the nappies, for sleeping in. I had worn pull-ups under my pyjamas that night but I didn’t think that she had known about them… obviously she knew more than I thought. Once over my initial surprise I began to think that she may well be correct, I did feel safer and more confident on stage if I knew that there wouldn’t be a repeat of that first performance. I was surprised at how often I was now remembering that event and that was a bit upsetting, it was slightly undermining my confidence.
However, she was very supportive and said it was only an option; she pointed to my Hercules cartoon underpants, which were also laid out and said it was up to me what I wanted to wear. The nappy was very thick and when she held it out I knew that was her preference so that’s what I went with. She dried me down then got me to lie out on the bed and like Julie used to do, powder me before pulling the disposable tightly up between my legs. To be truthful, I loved the attention as it brought back memories of… well… times that were now few and far between. She helped me to my feet to make sure it fit well and then had me step into the plastic pants she held open. They were yellow with cartoon characters all over them and crinkled as she pulled them up to cover the thick nappy.
I was in so happy. It was like my earlier life when Julie would make sure I was properly dressed and had on enough protection so that I had no worries for the rest of the day. I realised that Miss Simms must have bought the plastic pants herself as I didn’t recognise them as my own and I suspect that she had planned this to happen. I was grateful that I was being given a choice but I was even happier that she had already decided what I should wear to the contest. The shorts felt tight and looked bulky, though in truth I was ridiculously happy. I thought I could perform so much better now that I felt safe and once I had my shirt and school tie in place I was ready to take on all comers.
It was a long morning and I was number seven on the order. First we had to sing the same song that we all had to individually perform, which we were marked on, whilst later in the day we had to sing a song of our choosing (well in my case Miss Simms’s choosing to be correct). However, at lunchtime Miss Simms asked if I needed changing and it was only at that point that I realised that I did. I’d gone through the entire morning just so excited I hadn’t even thought about going to the toilet, I’d just naturally wet my nappy but the disposable had soaked it all up and left me unaware of what I’d done. She found a ladies toilet that also had baby-changing facilities and took me in there. I was astounded at just how prepared she appeared to be; disposables, wipes, powder and, if my eyes didn’t deceive me, a dummy, which she didn’t give me then and there, she just cleaned me up, fastened me back into my shorts and I was ready for the next round.
Miss Simms thought my voice was ‘pure and faultless’ but there were other boys my age there who I thought were better. One of them, Colin Harper, was superb as he sang ‘Pie Jesu’, which was one of my own personal favourites. I was so glad I had sung before him as I felt sorry for the couple of other boys that had to follow him. He was so good I stood up and applauded his seamlessly beautiful version that it made me weep. I was moved to tears by the sheer magic of his performance and the quality of his voice. I was in no doubt who the winner was but I had a shock when he was judged in second place and I was given first. I couldn’t believe it and looked questioningly at Miss Simms for an answer to what I thought was a ridiculous decision. She just smiled, and proudly said the difference was “I was the complete package,” she patted my padded bottom, “of looks, voice and performance’ and should be proud of my achievements as I was up against some special young performers.
After I called mum to tell her of my success, which she was very pleased about, Miss Simms chatted to her about staying over another night rather than driving back so late. Mum thought it was very considerate of her so we ended up going for a celebratory meal, which I was allowed to choose before spending another night together.
I hadn’t had pizza for quite some time so I pigged out on that and, to make thing even better, there was a special offer on desserts so I could have as much as I wanted. I was stuffed by the time we arrived back at the hotel. The trophy was on the table between our two beds and gleamed when the light was turned on. Miss Simms had kept me entertained with stories of other children she had taught and some of the weird and wonderful things they had got up to that had made her smile. She was fun and I didn’t want her to stop so asked her to tell me more stories about famous composers.
She suggested we get ready for bed first but of course, once I removed my shorts I realised I was once again wet through. She didn’t appear to mind at all and had me wiped down in seconds. This time she suggested that, as I was sleeping in a hotel bed, I might prefer some thicker protection. I wasn’t going to argue and just shrugged my shoulders to say I didn’t mind. From her suitcase she produced a terry fabric nappy and two thick absorbent pads. I was happy to go along with it so, after she had thoroughly spread lotion and powder over those all-important parts, she pulled the hefty bundle tightly up between my legs. I hadn’t been so well stuffed for quite some time and wasn’t quite used to such enormous protection. She slid a different pair of pink plastic pants over it all and suggested we leave my pyjamas off as they simply wouldn’t fit. I waddled around trying to make sure it was comfortable but eventually sought my bed and climbed in.
Miss Simms went off to the bathroom to change and came back in her satin nightie, which I have to say she looked wonderful in, and plonked herself down on my bed. She hugged me and said how well she thought I’d done (for the umpteenth time) and now it was time for my story. However, before she started she offered me the dummy that I’d seen earlier. She asked if I wanted it, she said that as it had been such an exciting day it might help to calm everything down and help me ‘unwind’. I didn’t feel I needed to ‘unwind’ but she popped it into my mouth anyway. Surprisingly it was nice to have that sucking sensation back and quickly found the process was indeed very relaxing. She put her arm around me and hugged me to her ample bosom, she smelled wonderful and, as she related a story about Mozart, I drifted in and out of sleep. Before I fell asleep completely I thanked Miss Simms for all she’d done including the protection and kissed her on the cheek. She said it was her pleasure. She liked to see me enjoy being a little boy again and thought I was the sweetest (and cutest) pupil she’d ever had. She also predicted that I would one day be very famous… but hoped that I’d never stop being who I was.
I wasn’t sure exactly what she meant but as always, the way she spoke sounded positive. I soon got used to the bulky item between my legs and, although they were forced wider apart than normal, the nappy and pants were unbelievably comfortable to wear. I was enjoying the memories that the sheer size conjured up, especially the times when Julie would make them so big I could hardly move. Occasionally I would run my hand over the huge plastic mound and delight in its silky slipperiness. During the night I woke up a couple of times and could hear the gentle breathing of Miss Simms in the other bed. I thought about going to the bathroom but in the end I just peed, felt a slight warming glow ‘down there’ and was soon fast asleep again.
In the morning she appeared pleased that I’d wet myself and cooed and baby-talked to me as she once again changed me. Since Julie now had other interests I had grown away from such babyish things but now, with Miss Simms, I was really enjoying being back in my childish security zone. Even though I was nine she still blew raspberries on my stomach and made silly noises as she got me ready for our return home. She asked if I wanted to wear a disposable or my briefs but I giggled and didn’t answer so she would have to make the decision. I arrived home with my trophy and a sodden nappy, thankfully my new cartoon plastic pants had stopped any dribbles and I couldn’t have been happier.
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.
The post Danni – My life as a living boy doll Part 15 appeared first on My ABDL Life.