Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble… Chapter 9

Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble…

Chapter 9

This is the last chapter at the moment, although I may write more, as I have a few more humiliating things in mind for poor little baby Chris (or Christine…)

Note: A ‘dream sequence’ is indicated by italics.

Murphy’s Law of Wet Pants (If it’s going to happen, it will happen at the moment of maximum embarrassment) doesn’t just operate in the daytime.

The attitude of the three sisters to Chris over the last few days, together with his deep and secret desire to be a baby and the clearly infantilising treatment he had received during the evening, combined with the abnormally thick, warm layers of the track pants now bunched between Chris’s legs, to take his subconscious mind somewhere it did not normally go.

[i]Chris was dreaming that he was on the big rug with the other children, playing with his toy SUV. Angela came in, looming high above them, and asked something that Chris had heard often enough.

‘OK, babies, who needs her nappy changed?’

Tenille promply answered, with some pride, ‘I’m all dry, Auntie Angela.’

‘Good girl, Tenille,’ said Angela.

Candy smiled uncertainly, putting a chubby hand to the bulky crotch of the plastic panty which bulged beneath her short dress as she sat splay-legged, playing with her dolls.

‘I’m a weeny bit wet,’ she said, feeling the soggy towelling encasing her hips and keeping her legs apart.

‘OK, darling, we’ll fix you in a minute,’ said Angela, looking at Chris.

‘I’m dry too, Mummy,’ said Chrissie, feeling euphoric and cunningly clever at the same time, as the thick nappy beneath her dress began to swell as she peed.

‘Are you sure you’re dry, baby?’ asked Mummy, looking at her oddly.

Tenille noticed the same thing at the same time as Angela. The thick, plastic-covered mound of absorbent white terry visible under Chris’s dress was turning a light yellow colour as they watched.

Chrissie looked desperately at her twin sister, but Candy was miles away, babbling about her dolls.

‘Auntie Angela, Chrissie’s wetting her nappy,’ Tenille giggled, as Chrissie began crying lustily, no longer feeling clever, but still in a state of bliss.
Chris slowly began to wake, with a feeling of indescribable pleasure, as he often used to experience when he had a nocturnal ejaculation. His first thought was that he was glad that his adolescent habit had returned.

Then he realised that his hands, rather than gripping his sticky genitals, were under his pillow, and that he was lying on his stomach, and that his own wailing voice had woken him. Frightened, Chris slid one hand to his groin. He caught his breath as he felt the sodden devastation of his wet track pants and the soaked sheet beneath him. He tried to remember the last time he had wet his bed.

He realised he was sobbing loudly. At the same time, he became aware of someone in the room.

‘Are you OK, honey?’ Helen was saying.

The woman sat on the bed and stroked Chris’s long blonde hair.

‘Did you have a bad dream, sweetie?’ she continued.

When Chris only sobbed in reply, Helen quietly slid her hand beneath the bedclothes. Nodding to herself, she consoled Chris as she pulled back the quilt and top sheet.

‘I’m sorry, Tenille said…I didn’t know…I mean…’ Chris said between sobs.

‘It’s OK, honey,’ said Helen reassuringly. ‘It’s just a little accident.’

Helen was surprised that there was no protective sheet over the mattress, and that Angela hadn’t mentioned Chris’s bedwetting. Then she thought that he might normally wear something quite waterproof to bed and not need an undersheet, and that she had either forgotten to tel her about the bedwetting, or that she expected Chris to put his own nappy on, perhaps.

Whatever Ange expected, Helen soon had Chris out of bed and on the way to the bathroom which Angela explained Chris shared with the two girls.

Chris was quiet and compliant as Helen stripped him in the bathtub and helped him wash himself.

‘Honey, does Angela have some things here somewhere for you to wear at night?’ she asked.

Chris looked at the woman with wide, frightened eyes.

Poor child, Helen thought, and her heart went out to him. She glanced around, then looked down at Chris’s slender hips and trim little bottom. Then she realised. Of course, she thought, looking at the piles of Tenille’s nappies next to the low changing table. Where Chris was slim, Tenille was chubby, and obviously they shared the same size of nappy.

Chris stayed very quiet as Helen helped him onto the changing table. Helen decided on a terry nappy rather than one from the pile of disposables which she imagined Angela might keep for outings, and laid Chris on the fresh terry as she dusted him with baby talc.

Although, under the circumstances, Helen already thought of Chris as emotionally and to an extent intellectually a toddler, she was still surprised when she saw his genitalia. Even allowing for the variation in size she’d seen in her long career as a nurse, Chris’s penis was very small for a chronological adult, and his testes were similarly undersized. Added to that, his pubic hair existed only as a few wispy blonde hairs at the root of his member. Poor baby, she thought yet again. Helen held the little penis between her thumb and forefinger and was surprised to feel it stiffen slightly, and she noticed a tiny bead of thick liquid emerge from the end. She smiled at Chris, who lay with his eyes closed, and tucked the small pink tube down flat as she pinned the nappy over it before wiggling and tugging a pair of Tenille’s nursery print plastic pants over the bulky nappy. Chris didn’t open his eyes. He had stopped crying and was moaning softly.

‘It’s all right, baby, Nana will put you back in your bed soon,’ she cooed, using the words she employed with her youngest clients.

It was still only 9pm when she had Chris back in bed. She stayed with him, stroking his hair until his moaning and sighing stopped and he fell fast asleep.

Chris dreamed dreams he had never dreamed before as his subconscious desire to become a toddler, even more, a twin sister to Candy, fought the weakening efforts of other levels o his brain to continue life as a mature, 24 year old male.

The sisters arrived home at midnight, with Mandy driving and Tracy and Angela somewhat drunk from their evening out. Helen took Angela aside and explained about the wet mattress, which she had turned for the night but which would need airing, and how she had put Chris in one of Tenille’s nappies.

Angela wasn’t fazed, in fact she giggled.

‘Oh, that’s fine Helen. Thank you very much. I’m just glad he was a good little baby for you,’ she said, giggling again.

Helen smiled at her employer’s tipsy state, but reminded herself what a fine human being she really was in taking on poor little Chris.

Angela paid Helen and was seeing her to the door when Helen remembered something.

‘Angela,’ she said, ‘For a few years I’ve been sitting for a little girl who is now too old for my services. Her mother has offered me several boxes of her daughter’s unwanted toys. A lot of the things are probably too feminine, like dolls, but there are also a lot of things like simple puzzles and there are quite a few soft toys. They’re probably best suited for children up to older toddlers, say about 4. If you think Chris could cope with them, you’re welcome to them. I mean I’m not sure what Chris’s intellectual age is, but I was guessing probably around two or three…so I hope they wouldn’t be too old for him…’

Angela, a little unsteady on her feet, giggled again, and leaning on Helen, planted a wet kiss on her cheek.

‘Thank you, Helen. You’re right. Intellectually, poor Chris is still only a toddler, and a bedwetter too, of course, so yes, I’d love to accept. It’s very kind of you and I’m sure he’ll love them. The only…all that we’ve unpacked of his toys so far is his little blue truck. So thank you, it’s very kind of you,’ Angela gushed, feeling her panties dampening between her clenched thighs.

She giggled again and gave the middle-aged woman a hug. Helen, gratified, returned the hug, surprised to feel the firm pressure of Angela’s pubic mound against her hip.

‘Sorry, naughty me,’ giggled Angela, and blew a farewell kiss to Helen as she closed the door.

The three women flopped into their beds.

Chris half-woke as Angela stripped, tossed her damp panties across the room, and climbed into the bed beside him.

‘Ange, I’m sorry, I had an…’ he began.

‘It’s alright, baby, Mummy’s here now, and I know all about your accident and your nice new nappy,’ Angela said, sliding her hand beneath the plastic and the terry beneath. ‘Go back to sleep, baby, and Mummy will change you in the morning if your nappy is wet. OK, honey.’

Chris returned his wife’s cuddle, then gasped as his wife squeezed his small frame even harder.

‘Mm,’ said Angela. ‘Aren’t you just Mummy’s very favourite little babykins,’ she said, kissing the top of Chris’s head and gently pushing his face down to her soft breasts. Chris whimpered as Angela cupped one of her breasts in one hand and held it to her husband’s lips, which opened immediately to suckle the thick brown nipple.

When Chris had fallen into a dream-filled sleep, Angela silently reached under the bed and found her ‘boyfriend’, a large, soft latex dildo. Kissing her under-endowed husband once more and carefully keeping her breast to her husband’s gently sucking mouth, she used two fingers to part her thick mat of pubic hair and, holding the dripping wet lips of her vagina slightly apart, she slid the pink cylinder into herself, unable to stop herself moaning quietly as the fat latex penis filled and stretched her warm, wet cavity.

Minutes later, husband and wife were sleeping soundly, with broad smiles on their faces, ready to face two very different tomorrows.

To be continued.

Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble… Chapter 9

like it so far verry good story any more coming??

Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble… Chapter 9

this is one of the best stories. Its good to see you back SALLYKAT. Please write more.


Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble… Chapter 9

There’s be more. I’m between contracts at the moment, and I know what that means. Bored, bored, bored… :smiley:

Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble… Chapter 9

This is a good series. Keep up the great work


I really like this story so far, it seems a promising story line that could lead to lots of fun ideas (giggles)

(\ /)
( . .) There a bunny lookings at you!

Re: Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble… Chapter 9

I am glad you have joined this forum as I have missed your stories since the other forum closed

are you going to finish the story titled

chris the boarder ?

look forward to seeing the next exciting chapter of this awesome story

I love the way you got chris to wear nappies

yours treasuresman

Politicians Are Like Diapers (Nappies) they need to be changed regularly… often for the same reason

Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble… Chapter 9

Awesome story. Keep it up. Just one request, don’t end it where chris is left alone?