Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble… Chapter 2

Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble…

Chapter 2

‘Oh, er, nothing,’ Chris said, frantically checking the thick bulge at his crotch for signs of dampness.

Tracy was soon standing in front of him.

‘Chris would you be a sweetie and help me load this stuff in my car?’ she asked, and without waiting for an answer she lumped a large cardboard box into Chris’s hands.

Tracy followed Chris to her car with an armful of boxes herself. Chris could feel the thickness at his rear, and prayed that Tracy wouldn’t notice.

‘We’re all glad you’ll be in the lodge with us,’ Tracy said, as they packed the boxes into Tracy’s little Audi convertible.

‘So am I,’ said Chris. ‘You’re very generous, and I really appreciate it. I’m looking forward to it.’

‘Good,’ said Tracy, ruffling Chris’s hair.

Chris shivered. He stood 5 feet 3 inches ‘in his little cotton socks’ as Angela would say. The three sisters, from a tall family and all nearly 6 feet tall despite their full figures, towered over Chris, from his point of view. Still, the difference in height never seemed to have worried Angela. Although Chris had never said as much, he loved being smaller than his big, womanly wife.

They continued to load the car.

‘These boxes are mostly Tenille’s things,’ Tracy explained. ‘She’s got so much stuff for a little kid, although these boxes of nappies take up a lot of room. I suppose you’ve got big boxes of gear too,’ she added, looking at Chris.

‘Oh, no, I haven’t really got that much stuff,’ said Chris, clearing his throat.

‘Well you’ve got clothes, anyway, and those track suits are bulky. You like wearing them, don’t you? They’re nice colours, too, and much comfier than boring old suits or jeans, aren’t they?’ Tracy said.

Chris blushed. He wasn’t sure about this concentration on his clothing. He worked from home a lot, and he found track suits comfortable. He had a few mainly because Angela bought them for him and the colours were Angela’s choice too. Green, blue, red, orange, what was wrong with that?

‘I chose your yellow ones, did you know that, sweetie?’ Tracy continued. ‘I was shopping with Angela,’ Tracy continued. ‘I wanted to get you a pair of yellow overalls, like those denim ones you’ve got because you look so cute in them, but Ange said they might look a little too young for you and you might not wear them. I still think yellow suits you, and overalls do give you that bit of extra room if you keep the shoulder straps loose. I bought Tenille a pair is in the same yellow and they’re her favourites.’

‘Oh. Mm,’ replied Chris.

He wasn’t sure how to take this, being compared with Tenille. It was exciting and scary at the same time. He wished he wasn’t wearing his pull-ups. He thought of his soft and comfortable orange track suit with the wide stretchy waist and cuffs. Maybe you could call it yellow. It was his favourite, too.

‘I’ll let you into a little secret,’ Tracy said, leaning over to whisper to Chris. ‘We bought your yellow track suit in the Miss Fashion department.’

Tracy laughed. Chris had no idea they were girls’ clothes.

‘Now you’re blushing, sweetie,’ she said. ‘Don’t worry. They’re a good fit, that’s the main thing. They didn’t have the right colour in the boy’s section. And after all, boys and girls need the same fit, when you think about it. What girls haven’t got between their legs they make up for with wider hips, and the extra room boys need for their male bits makes up for your skinny hips and flat little bottoms. And boys can get by without a fly just as well as girls, can’t they?’

‘Tracy, I’m not a boy,’ Chris said, then realised how it sounded.

‘I mean…’ he said.

Tracy laughed.

‘Do you mean you’re a girl, Chrissie? You’re probably pretty enough, and your hair’s certainly long enough for a girl. So Chris is short for Christine, is it, or is it Christina, that’s a nice name,’ she teased, laughing again and put out her arm towards him.

Chris was frightened that Tracy would pat his nappied bottom, so he stepped back, turning away from her. Then he rapidly lowered the box he was carrying to cover the less than masculine mound of his padded crotch. Chris wasn’t over-endowed down there anyway, and liked to pull his modest equipment back between his legs when he wore a nappy or pull-up. The result, with his track pants pulled up snug, was a broad, curved vee that gave no hint of anything male between his legs.

Chris, still blushing, got on with the job of loading the boxes.

A couple of loads later, Tracy announced that they were finished.

‘That’s it, honey, we’re done. Would you like a drink?’ Tracy asked.

The mention of a drink reminded Chris of another need which he had forgotten in his embarrassment at having his pull-ups on in front of his sister-in-law.

Chris felt himself peeing slightly as he rushed to the bathroom. Shutting the door behind him, he tore down the thick combination of track pants and wet pull-ups as he sat in relief on the toilet. Strangely, there wasn’t much more to pee. Chris looked at the mass of wet clothing around his ankles and saw the reason. His pull-ups were not just damp, but soaked, and his track pants were wet as well. He found that he was silently crying. Then the powerful psychological link between wetting and sexual release which he had built up since childhood kicked in, and as he sat with tears rolling down his cheeks, and his soaked pull-ups around his ankles, he began to rub his stiffening penis.

‘Mummy…’ he whimpered, imagining Tracy bending down to him, her full breasts swelling under her blouse, asking him if he was a little boy or a little girl.

Chris climaxed quickly, feeling his usual combination of pleasure, shame and regret at not truly needing the pull-ups he wore. He was about to stand up when, without warning, he emptied his bowels. With a surprised grunt, he sat down again and closed his eyes, giving in to the infantile pleasure of doing ‘number twos’.

It took a weekend to move the three women, the two toddlers and Chris into the lodge. The property was everything it was cracked up to be and more. Chris had even managed to smuggle his stash of baby things into one of the outbuildings. It hadn’t been easy.

But the rest of it was all good. From Chris’s viewpoint, life so far had been a blur of nappies, clothes washing and maternal concerns generally. There had even been flashes of bare breast or underwear from Tracy or Mandy. In fact the young mums didn’t seem to mind Chris’s presence at all, however they were dressed, which suited him fine. He’d even had the chance a few times to get away to the outbuilding and play with his own baby things.

With all the maternal goings-on, Chris was almost constantly fantasising that he was one of the toddlers and that whichever of the sisters was closest was his Mummy. It hardly seemed to matter that among all the visual and psychological stimulation there wasn’t much that was masculine – instead of imagining himself to be a baby boy, Chris found himself fantasising that he was a baby, but a little girl like Candy and Tenille. It was strange, but the change of gender didn’t really worry Chris. He was just happy to be there.

Ange had in many ways had joined her sisters in young motherhood. She took her turn changing and looking after the girls and had even been a little maternal to Chris, which he loved although he pretended not to notice.

To be continued…