Joe’s Story Part 1-15

Joe’s Story

Part 1

Mrs Griffiths was getting both annoyed and worried.

Annoyed because, as far as she could see, her eleven year-old son Joseph spent far too much time masturbating, and worried what effect this could have on his two young sisters, nine year-old Mary and the youngest Susan who was seven, and, more importantly, God didn’t approve, so she was also worried about her son’s salvation.

Joe’s pyjama bottoms would be stained with the evidence that every night he’d erupted more times than his mother could imagine. He’d found the pleasure of playing with himself when he was nine but it was only recently that the act occupied his thoughts all the time. However, it was at night when the pleasure was increased and the thoughts of Amy Wright and her friend Daphne, along with his best friend Syed ran through his head. He thought it was just a natural part of growing up and had no guilt at all about what he did or where his nightly activities took him or the mess deposited in his PJs.

Joe’s mum was a guilt-ridden, lapsed Catholic, who remembered stories the priest and nuns revealed regarding the evils of such an act so was desperate that her child should not suffer such grievous consequences. She panicked over the thought that somehow, Joe’s night-time inclinations would corrupt or in some way defile her sweet, innocent young daughters - she was desperate for an answer to her fears. She was worried even more with the imminent arrival of the school summer holidays that with so much time on his hands… he would be spending it all on such a risky and depraved act.

She sought advice from her priest, Father John.

Over the past few months she had reacquainted herself with her faith and had begun to visit the church more and more often looking for her own salvation. She had taken her two daughters, who went willingly, but Joe was like his father, he didn’t have time for “all that religious stuff”. All her old fears and superstitions came flooding back as she knelt in prayer and asked for God’s good grace and guidance.

Father John was an old priest in a young priest’s body. He was a firebrand, clinging to the old doctrines and beliefs of hundreds of years of Catholic teaching and thought that modern thinking was the way to ruin. A firm belief in God, Jesus, Mary and the Holy Roman Catholic Church, together with regular readings of the Bible, were all that was needed for a wonderful, peaceful and deferential world. A religion failed if it didn’t garner respect, induce fear and damn all things it regarded as progressive/evil - to this priest there was no difference between the two. Father John’s code was simple: do not tolerate evil in any of its many guises - for the salvation of all its living things, use any and every means to banish it from this mortal world. Yes, for a thirty year-old man Father John was pretty hard-core in his devotion to the church’s ancient doctrines.

As her son wouldn’t go to confession, or even enter the church, Mrs Griffiths confided her worries to Father John who initially suggested that perhaps, before the boy retired to bed, his mother should insist he wear something more appropriate than just his loose PJs. To prevent the easy access to his ‘sin’ the Father suggested perhaps to cover the offending article more substantially, thus helping him avoid this evil act and the resulting hell-fire he would most certainly face.

Joe was oblivious to the dealings that were going on back home. He planned a fantastic summer break with his mates; camping, soccer tournaments, swimming, skateboarding… all the out-doorsy things that a healthy, eleven year-old should be doing, especially in the forthcoming promised hot spell.

However, two weeks before school broke up he was surprised to find that his mother had laid a rubber sheet over his mattress and insisted that he wear pull-ups to sleep in. Confused and surprised by such action he wanted to know the reason why.

She held up as evidence his overly stained pyjama bottoms and gungy underpants as proof that he needed help in controlling his emissions – nocturnal and otherwise. She lambasted him for bringing his filthy, self-pleasuring ways into her God-fearing home and that he was damned if he didn’t immediately stop. He had felt no guilt until his mother had pointed out the incriminatory evidence and with all the gusto that she could remember of the priests invective on the evils of self-gratification, scared the young lad reluctantly into wearing the proscribed item.

Echoing the priest’s sentiments she declared that his actions were wicked, against God and that he needed as much of the Good Lord’s protection as he could muster if he wasn’t going to burn in hell. The Lord (Father John) had shown her the way regarding the usefulness of pull-ups for protection so that would be the solution. She worried that not only was he heading to perdition but that his bed was tinged with evil and she was sure that something even more heinous would occur whilst he slept if he didn’t stop.

Scared by his mother’s forceful condemnation and knowing that if he didn’t comply his entire summer plans would end up with being grounded, Joe unwillingly did as he was told. He felt trapped but his mother watched and made sure he put on the pull-ups before he went to bed. She inferred that there would be trouble if he took them off and that God was watching and would see if he transgressed and didn’t keep to his promise of no self-gratification.

The strangest thing transpired on that first night whilst reluctantly wearing his holy divined protection, to his absolute horror, something worse did happen.

His mother had indeed put the fear of God into her son and sweet dreams of his friends were now a scary mixture of screaming burning figures and tormenting demons. He was mortified when his mother came in to wake him for school to find he was soaked through. Her accusing look and declaration that God sees everything and punishes those who flout his laws was enough to frighten and temporarily make him believe that the Lord had punished him for masturbating. The mess he’d made was copious, the pull-ups not able to contain all he pissed, consequently his bedding and everything in the room appeared drenched in the smell of urine. Mercifully, it was only thanks to his mother’s foresight in putting down a rubber over-sheet that his mattress was not completely ruined.

She intended saving her son as she had done the mattress.

However, her weeping son was so intimidated by what had happened he had no response to his mother’s demands that from now on he would wear a nappy and plastic pants to bed to protect all concerned. She was adamant that she needed to shield his innocent little sisters from his perverted, moist desires and that the extra padding would at least mean they could sleep safe. No amount of protestation was allowed and he was completely cowed by his mother saying that she would get Father John to talk to him if he needed ‘guidance’. The threat was the last thing he wanted, he was scared of the priest, the power he wielded over his mother and desperate not to have anything to do with the man.

So, for two weeks leading to the summer break, every morning, before he was allowed to go to school, his nappy was checked for any residue of his secretive and unholy ways. Surprisingly, she didn’t seem perturbed if his nappy was wet as long as it wasn’t slick with his boy juice. He was made to stand naked whilst his mother, tentatively searched for proof of her son’s disgusting habits before he was allowed to go to the bathroom. Joe was told that if she found anything he would be punished and that he’d be made to wear his nappy all the time and that included to school.

He just couldn’t help the fact that, especially at night, his hand always gravitated to his crotch. However, now the thick glossy bulge and crinkle as he moved was a reminder of his promise to his mother, he couldn’t get a grip or play with himself anyway. It was hard - literally and figuratively - to relieve himself with all the padding. However, he didn’t want to cause his mother any further upset so, whilst he could, he refrained from his nightly vocation.

He made up for it at school, whilst a bunch of kids pissed and shit in cubicles all around, he spent a great deal of time in the toilet pulling himself off. The distractions didn’t seem to make much difference especially as he was thinking of Amy and Syed and the thoughts of them helped him gain quick release. His seed caught in the school’s toilet paper and flushed away.

Joe’s mother, Bernadette Corrigan had married Stanley Joseph Griffiths because he’d gotten her pregnant. This seventeen year-old good, meek catholic girl was guilty of sin and just couldn’t face her priest. Her guilt spread because, thanks to her atheist husband, she wasn’t bringing up their children in the faith. When the local priest recently passed away and the young, vibrant Father John had taken over she saw her chance of reconnecting, perhaps even being forgiven. Above everything else she wanted to find her faith again, to love and be loved by the Holy Roman Catholic church and promised to do whatever it took to regain admission. She knew that once she fulfilled her obligations to God, she would be absolved of her sin and all would be well.

She surreptitiously started attending mass and began to take her daughters along with her. They seemed to like the singing and religious setting and weren’t of an age where they could make up their own minds. Joe was different, he’d been dragged to one mass and was bored, would rather have been out with his mates playing soccer and laughed inwardly at every damnation and pious piece of the bible the new priest uttered.

No matter how much his mother pleaded with him he didn’t go again.

His dad had told his wife to let the boy be before he went to the off-shore oil rig that was his place of work. Six weeks on and two weeks off was his normal working configuration so he was rarely at home but his well-paid job kept his family at a relatively good standard of living. However, it also meant that he wasn’t always around when something major happened.

Joe was a chip off the old block and, like his father, loved sport, was very easy going but didn’t suffer fools and pomposity. When his father was home they spent a great deal of time together and Joe loved and looked up to his father. The family went camping, his dad’s favourite way to relax, and whilst Joe enjoyed it, his mother and little sisters just endured it. He hated it when his father went away but realised that it was his job and so it was something that just had to be put up with. It was always a huge deal when he came home because the family laughed a lot and did more things than when they were just with their mother.

On the last day of school Joe arrived home from a five-a-side game of soccer to find Father John and his mother in deep conversation. The Father was all smiles as Joe walked through the door and got up to shake his hand and explain that his mother had volunteered him to help out with a group of kids from church.

“Ah Joseph, your mother has said that she would be happy for you to help out the Cub Scouts camping trip. I’m afraid I am one volunteer down and she very kindly suggested…”

“I don’t think so.” Joe stood there with his arms folded, all four foot eleven inch of him, in his dirty soccer kit of shirt and shorts. “I have made my own arrangements for…”

His mother now interrupted - embarrassed at her son interrupting Father John.

“Joe, it will be good for you. You’ll be helping the Father… and young people who…”

She almost apologised for making the suggestion but was enthusiastic that it would benefit his moral turpitude.

“I don’t care. Why the hell would I want to go on a Cub Scout camping trip?”

With a look of loathing on his face the last piece of the sentence was directed at the priest.

“I’m not even a Catholic?”

“Come, come young man.”

Ignoring the dig the priest tried to be jovial, accommodating, enthusiastic and positive.

“The Lord has time and love for every one of his flock whether they know it or not. Your mother… and the Lord… have given you this opportunity…”

“Well the Lord can go fuck himself because I’m not…”

The speed at which the young priest reacted was stunning, so much so that Joe had no idea what was happening until it was too late. He grabbed Joe by the arm and yanked him over his knee. With one hand securely holding him in place he set about spanking the boy with a great deal of vigour. Joe’s screams were of protest and shock as his bare legs kicked out and he squirmed uselessly in an attempt to escape.

His thin nylon shorts were no protection to the firm hand that was raining blows on his upturned bottom - the man was brutal and determined in his discipline. Mrs Griffiths just stood there as the priest continued his spanking until her son could hold back the tears no longer and screamed for it to stop. She didn’t intervene knowing that the priest’s action was justified and what her disobedient son was sorely in need of. The punishment continued long after the fight had left Joe and he’d stopped trying to avoid each pain inducing slap.

“I will not have the Lord’s name taken in vain,” The firm hand continued to descend. “Nor will I have such a vile and disgusting word spoken in front of your mother and innocent sisters.”

The hand slowed but still delivered hefty smacks to his throbbing bottom. His father had never spanked him yet this priest thought nothing about laying into him, if he hadn’t been in so much pain and crying he may well have protested such an injustice… but who would he protest to? His mother seemed to have sanctioned the attack.

There was another problem now as well because as the firm hand delivered each painful whack, his full bladder had leaked and he’d well and truly pissed himself. The priest’s trouser leg was soaked as the sobbing youth was dragged from his vulnerable position; the front of his white shorts ran yellow with the evidence of just what had occurred. The look of disgrace on his mother’s face said it all and the red blush of shame filled his other cheeks as he scrambled, tearfully off to his bedroom.

He could hear the conversation continue downstairs and knew he was in trouble. Swearing was a huge no-no in the house, especially in front of his sisters. Even not very offensive words like ‘hell’ and ‘damn’ were frowned upon so the f-word carried with it great weight and as such, the punishment would match its seriousness. He knew that had he used the word towards a teacher at school then he could have been suspended but, soothing his very sore bottom, he wasn’t sure if it applied to a priest. However, his mother thought it did.

After a while he heard the priest leave and the footsteps of his mother climbing the stairs. He was still hurting from the severe spanking but dreaded that his mother might have brought the hairbrush with which, in the past, she’d threatened to use as punishment. He was in no position to defy her? Look where it had already got him; a fiercely red bottom, embarrassment that his young sisters had witnessed his humiliation and that he’d pissed himself. With his mother on the warpath he wasn’t sure if it could get any worse. It did.

Bernadette Griffiths may have been a small woman but when she was roused and determined there was very little that could control her. She made her son strip out of his piss-stained soccer outfit and once naked bend over the edge of his bed before delivering six more swats with the hairbrush to his already inflamed posterior. The screams, sorrys and pleading fell on deaf but zealous ears as she served several more reminders of his action to his very sore bottom.

“I’ve a good mind to call your father and tell him what a despicable and disrespectful person you’ve become.”

She spoke in a tone that meant she intended to be taken seriously. She knew he idolised his father and her husband idolised his son, what would be the consequences of him knowing what had happened?

“You have embarrassed the family, upset your sisters and brought shame on yourself by using foul words and selfish actions… behaving like a spoilt little brat… not to mention abusing an upstanding member of this community.”

The words of his mother just rushed out but as Joe was still bent over the bed, his naked bum trembling under her denunciation he was unable to do anything but try and stifle his tears by crying into his pillow.

It was the first time he’d ever had to suffer a spanking and he didn’t like it at all. The priest had hurt him and now his mother had delivered a punishment she’d only ever threatened before. His bum stung and his mind spun not knowing what to make of it all. There was one thing for certain, he was in big trouble and from her actions he could tell she wasn’t going to be placated by a simple apology to her, his sisters or the priest.

“What would your father think…” she continued calling into question her son’s relationship with his father, “swearing at a priest AND being back in nappies acting like a big baby?”

She knew that Joe would want to keep that part of his current situation secret but the threat was there. If his father should know his sporty son was now a big baby and back wearing a nappy because he had no control over his body and constantly messed himself, he’d be mortified. Joe groaned at the thought that such a revelation would have. He didn’t know that his father would probably have approved of him swearing at the priest because, for his own reasons, he hated the deluded, and in his opinion, perverted lot of them. All Joe now felt was total guilt, fear, sorrow and abject humiliation.

She sent her quivering and bawling son off to the bathroom to clean up but insisted that he hurry and get back to her in five minutes. He didn’t much feel like getting up but the implied threat made him gingerly walk to the shower as fast as his sore bottom allowed. His bum glowed and he tried to avoid touching it but it was unavoidable when he had to towel himself dry. Once back in the bedroom his mother was still there with the hairbrush and he guessed he was in for more punishment.

He was correct.

She delivered another half dozen well-aimed thwacks to his already crimson butt, then, to Joe’s surprise, fastened him into a nappy. It was only 6.30 and way too soon for bed but once he was secured and a pair of thick cream-coloured plastic pants pulled over it, his mother indicated that bed was where he should be heading. No explanation, no meal, no TV, no phone, no nothing… she was determined that her son was going to change his ways and make himself one of God’s Christian soldiers.

A feeling of religious zeal was taking over his mother and he was too young and too alone to fight it. He cringed as his thick fabric padding hardly dulled the rustle of the plastic guard that now held him tightly. His bum throbbed, his eyes ached from so much crying, he felt completely dejected and what’s more, the one thing that could have helped him relax and get over everything, was no longer an option.

As his mother silenced any protests; she told him if he so much as moved from the bed at any point in the night he would get an even worse spanking than he’d already received. That was enough to scare him immediately into submission but what he didn’t know was that the following morning he would be on the bus with a bunch of cub scouts and heading for a two-week stay at a campsite in the Lakes.

Although the nappy was for protection Mrs Griffiths couldn’t help but think how cute her son now looked. He’d been growing up and adopting certain independent ways that she didn’t particularly like but now, as he cried himself to sleep wearing nothing but a nappy and plastic pants, she realised that he was still her sweet little baby boy and wanted him back. Perhaps by keeping him under rigid discipline she could regain control over him, the nappies seemed a good way of reinforcing that vision.

Joe could see the sun still shining behind the curtains and hear kids playing in the road but he was shattered, had no fight left and worried just what he could do to put things right. Oddly enough exhaustion overtook his thoughts and he fell asleep almost immediately.

Where ever Father John had worked he had gained a huge following. His was tall, young, good-looking (he had the body and aura of a rugby-playing superstar) and spoke with the authority of a man who believed in the power of every word he uttered. The church hierarchy loved having this enthusiastic holy firebrand and was even more delighted with the effect he had on parishioners. The churches were full when he preached, the children’s Sunday Schools were packed to overflowing and he’d turned around the finances of his local church in just a few months. Father John wasn’t a fool; he knew what he was doing and was aware of his charisma but channelled it into the areas where he thought it was needed. Bishops had suggested he take a more high profile district but he liked to be at grassroots, where he thought he could do more good and, in his opinion, where the word of God was needed most. He gave up what little free time he had to promote and run youth groups, mother’s meeting, scouts and guides organisations where there simply wasn’t anything for the locals. This was why he was behind the wheel of a thirty-seat bus, picking up the boys from St Cuthbert cub scouts group.

Joe had slept badly. He worried constantly about his current situation and was scared that his mother was correct and he was damned for swearing at a man of God. He was afraid that his father would reject him once he knew he was back in a nappy and he hoped that at all costs his mother hadn’t told him yet. He hadn’t dared move from his bed and for thirteen hours he’d lay there in his warm rubberised pit, sweating uncomfortably but frightened of doing anything, even venturing to the toilet. He’d wet himself and was painfully aware that at any moment he’d also shit himself if someone didn’t come and say he could get up.

At 7.30 his mother entered his room carrying the nasty and painful hairbrush. She ordered him to get up. He was about to tell her he was wet but she just waved the brush threateningly and that alone made him to stay silent. She could tell he was wet, the nappy had expanded and his plastic pants looked a bit bloated but she was expecting that after last night’s scolding and punishment. However, now she expected nothing except that her son would obey all she was about to say and agree to her decisions.

Joe stood nervous, ashamed and wet as his mother began to undo his plastic pants.

“I spoke to your father,” she lied, “and he agrees with me about what we should do about your terrible behaviour.”

Joe wanted to speak but that look on his mother’s face meant she wasn’t asking for comments.

She released his soaked nappy and even without close inspection it could clearly be seen that Joe had spunked up into them.

A grimace came onto his mother’s face. “Well it appears that a night time nappy isn’t enough to stop you committing sin and pleasuring yourself.”

“But mum, I didn’t… I haven’t… I…”

His mother just held the evidence up to his face. The glistening streaks giving lie to his protestations of innocence, whilst the smell of his own urine was overpowering.

“OK young man, you’ve had enough warnings,” she pointed to the bathroom. “Go to the toilet, take a shower and be back here in five minutes.”

Joe was lost for words but saw the brush wavering in his mother’s hand and thought better than to start an argument. He quickly ran to the bathroom, his fading purple bottom a symbol of what he had endured the day before.

He rushed his shit and the shower was cold. He grabbed the towel and ran back to his waiting mother as he still dried himself as quickly as possible. Stacked on his bed were a pile of nappies, powder and a tub of Vaseline. His mother indicated that he should lie back over the bed, with his feet on the floor whilst she took charge. Thankfully the temperature of the shower had ensured that his penis shrank to its minimum. She rubbed Vaseline thickly around his groin, sprinkled loads of powder over the area and then had him lift up his bottom to place a folded fabric nappy under him. Joe screwed up his eyes, desperate to block out what was about to happen. This shouldn’t be happening to an eleven year-old, who’s the captain of his soccer team and won first prize in the inter-schools swimming gala. She fitted a couple of soaker pads before pulling it between his legs and pinning the generous protection tightly into place.

Joe was on the verge of tears. He hated this but remembered she had warned that if there were further night-time ‘accidents’ he’d be put in nappies permanently. Tears formed in his eyes at the ignominy of what was happening. How could she do this to him? The unfortunate thing was he had a nagging voice at the back of his head that said it was all his own fault; he swore, he liked to masturbate, he had been warned. He wondered what his father said when he found out.

“What did… (sob) dad say about…?” and indicated the thick nappy that now held him securely.

Mrs Griffiths knew she had the upper hand and that her son was in no position or mental state to cause any problems to her so offered an olive branch.

“I didn’t tell him.”

Tears of relief ran down Joe’s cheeks and at that moment he was, despite everything else, grateful to his mother for keeping their secret and sparing him that embarrassment. He had no idea that no such conversation between his parents had taken place on any of these important topics.

“This is between you and me but…” she wouldn’t tolerate any nonsense from her son on this point, “to ensure you are aware of just how wicked your words and actions are… you will be wearing protection like this, all the time, for the foreseeable future.”

Joe winced at what was happening and desperately searched for a way to avoid this punishment. His father wasn’t due home for another month so he hoped that everything would be back to normal by then.

She pulled the thick heavy plastic pants over the fresh nappy and was pleased at the sight of the enormous tight and glossy bulge that replaced what she saw as her son’s sin-laden genitals… she was sure this would prevent any further degenerate indulgences.

“There, that’s better.”

She said with a certain amount of pride as her son shuffled awkwardly in the bulk and she grabbed a t-shirt and shorts from his drawer and sorted out a pair of trainers.

“Put these on and then you’re ready.”

Joe struggled to pull the shorts she’d chosen over the huge clump of fabric but didn’t dare voice his disapproval he was in far too much trouble to argue over clothes as well. He took comfort in the fact that it was his favourite t-shirt (bearing the logo of his favourite soccer team), so it wasn’t all bad. They went down stairs for breakfast. Joe slowly negotiating each step as he descended, the bulkiness something he wasn’t sure he could get used to. He didn’t mind wearing shorts, he spent most of his day wearing his soccer kit, but the shorts his mother had chosen were very short and revealing. Still, now wasn’t a good time to complain.

Joe noticed the backpack he used when they went camping was loaded, with his sleeping bag and a blanket tightly wound and strapped under the top flap, waiting at the front door. He didn’t quite grasp its significance until halfway through his cereal when there was a loud ‘beep-beep’ from the road outside.

His mother smiled, kissed him on the head and guided him to the door and opened it. The bus with Father John at the wheel was waiting with what looked like a company of cub scouts all watching him walk forlornly down his pathway. So here he was, out in public and wearing a huge nappy under his shorts. He was sure that everyone would be able to tell, and indeed, part of his mother’s plan was to embarrass her son and hopefully curtail some of the independent and immoral attitude he seemed on pursuing. With a final brush of his hair away from his forehead she kissed him goodbye but warned him to do exactly as the good Father told him. If she heard back that he’d been disrespectful in any way there would be the kind of trouble only the Bible could prophesy. With the threat left ringing in his head her final words only added further humiliation.

“Father John knows about the nappies and why you are to wear and use them from now on. He is in charge of checking and changing you when needed… you do nothing without his express permission. If I hear anything to the contrary I promise you’ll not be able to sit down for a week. Do I make myself clear?”

She made sure he was completely aware of her instructions before she patted his padded bottom and sent him on his way.

Joe was frustrated, distraught, upset and angry but it was all futile. As far as he knew both his parents had agreed to this punishment so the decision had been made and he could do nothing about it.

His fate was absolute and he had no one there to support him so he trundled, defeated, with his backpack to the bus. One of the priests’ other helpers, an older scout by the name of Terry appeared, all cheerful smiles and bonhomie, and offered to put it in the bus’s storage area for him. He nodded and almost hypnotically boarded the bus to the contented smile of the driver and the cheers of his excited passengers. His bulging shorts didn’t exactly hide the fact he was wearing protection and the sly pat on his padded bottom from the priest as he pointed to the empty seat directly behind him made him cringe. None of this was helped by the rustle of his protection as he flopped down into the empty space… it only added to the sorry indignity.

The noisy group set off to pick up the last few members of their party and then it was off to the Lakes. Ten minutes later and they’d picked up the last three members of the party, three elder scouts who were designated as Father John’s helpers. Joe began to wonder what exactly his part in all this was.

To be continued…

Re: Joe’s Story

is story way over top in my opinion with all religion and really turn you even want to read this. If I was the father and my wife was doing this to my children with all fear she did to them, I would grab the kids and left crazy religion nut.

Re: Joe’s Story

;D I love your story more please ? :stuck_out_tongue:

Re: Joe’s Story

I only got to the Point where the “priest” committed Seriously CRIMINAL Child Abuse.

Hope he Gets what he deserves, but doubt it.
NOT My cup of………
As said above, Father would have all kids out of that house BEFORE
the boy was forced to the camp. Mother and “priest” would both be in Prison!!!

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Re: Joe’s Story Part 1-2

Part 2

The older scouts, who looked about eighteen, were well-groomed and rather smart in their tan uniform of shirt and shorts with bright green and blue neckers. They obviously took pride in their appearance and their position very seriously, each one making a wonderful role-model for the screaming kids. The motley collection of much younger cubs, all aged under ten, were in their green uniform of shirt and shorts with blue and yellow neckers.

Father John sat behind the steering wheel, still wearing his ‘dog-collar’ smiling and chatting to any boy that ventured forward. He knew each boy by name and even though they probably shouldn’t have spoken to the driver, he was never short with them, acknowledging their excitement at going on the trip and sending them back to their seats with a cheery word and a smile.

Joe couldn’t believe how two-faced this priest was, all joy and niceness to these kids but had no hesitation in spanking him viciously. He couldn’t help feel it was because he was not a Catholic.

The boy was fuming at the indignity and injustice of it all as he sat wriggling uncomfortably, only vaguely aware that his nappy was making a rustling noise. He was utterly depressed. He could feel the priest occasionally check on him in the rear view mirror but tried to shut out what else was happening around him. He huddled in his shorts and t-shirt glad at least he looked ‘different’, he wasn’t wearing a stupid uniform and didn’t want to be thought of as belonging to this ‘stupid’ load of ‘dumbass’ kids. At least his anger took his mind off the fact he was wearing a nappy.

He was still bothered that his mother had not allowed him to plead his innocence about the glistening streaks she’d found in his night time defence. He was so tightly bound in all the fabric and plastic he couldn’t even feel his dick. He’d kept his promise and hadn’t touched himself, his mother had scared him enough for him not to even think about doing so, but, nonetheless, his nappy told a different story. He was annoyed that even without rubbing anything his body had betrayed him and deposited the lie.

He thought about his own plans and wondered how she would explain to Syed and the rest why he wasn’t around. Would she tell them that he was doing ‘missionary’ work for the church (he allowed himself a wry chuckle at the thought), something he knew they’d find hard to believe, or spin them some story about sickly aunts or the death of a grandparent? He frowned as he comprehended he had no control at all in whatever his mother decided to say by way of explanation of his sudden disappearance and bowed his head in despair.

Suddenly he was shocked - he fumbled with the tell-tale inflated bulge in his shorts and the even more revealing edge of plastic just visible down his left pant leg. Even his shorts were now trying to humiliate him. He tried to cover up his shame but it was useless and a tremor of inevitability ran through his body. However, whenever the priest’s and his eyes locked in the mirror, he could see the man smile his cheerful and inspiring smile, as if he expected the unhappy lad to be pleased about the trip.

Eventually he looked around at the kids as they noisily chatted at a volume any rock band would have been proud to produce. Like the senior scouts, some of the boys had arms full of achievement badges sewn onto their shirts and were eagerly discussing with their friends other badges they hoped to attain whilst on this trip. They all spoke highly of Father John, who they were at pains to explain, offered encouragement and advice to everyone. No doubt, Joe thought, they believed in the All Mighty and the priest but he knew better… or so he hoped.

Terry, the oldest of the scouts and who seemed to be second in command, sat next to Joe for a few moments to try and get him involved. Joe was in no mood to join in but Terry pleasantly explained a little about what was going on and what he could expect when they arrived at their destination. Terry was everything that Joe imagined himself to be; confident, tall, good-looking and very clearly a healthy young man that even wearing his scout’s uniform could not be denied. Even so, Joe continued to squirm uncomfortably knowing that the lead scout could see he was thickly protected.

To start with, Terry explained, the older scouts, a couple of whom were already leaders of their own cub packs or community groups, were there to supervise and keep the youngsters entertained, which he pointed out to a very indifferent Joe, would also look good on any future CV. His patience and assured attitude with the screaming horde reflected the same relaxed and understanding approach as the priest. He went on to tell him that the campsite regularly hosted visits from groups such as theirs and was well equipped to cater to a bunch of ‘high-octane’ kids. Terry explained a great deal of other stuff but Joe wasn’t really interested. He sat grumpily hugging himself and wishing he was playing soccer with his mates or, in his current situation, dead.

He didn’t really want to participate in any of the singing or games the scouts organised to keep the cubs entertained during the journey. He was eleven damn it and past all this childish stuff, why wouldn’t these bloody people let him get on with his own life? Of course none of this was said out loud but it was a constant soundtrack in his head. However, the sheer volume and fervour of the kids to have a good time was infectious and he found himself almost unconsciously being dragged into the general melee. However, a small nervous looking boy wondered from the back of the bus down the aisle to the priest and whispered something in his ear.

“Yes Todd, in a few minutes we’ll stop. Do you think you’ll be able to hold out until then?”

The priest quietly replied but as Joe was close he could hear their conversation. The boy had said he needed a wee.

The boy shook his head and looked really quite upset.

“OK, you sit with Joey here,” he nodded to the now empty seat next to Joe, “and we’ll get you sorted soon.”

Todd must have only been about six or seven years old and Joe hadn’t noticed him at all until he’d wandered forward, he looked so sad and Joe could have empathised if he wasn’t so unhappy himself.

The boy plonked himself down and a slight crinkle could be heard as he did so.

Father John began the introductions. “Joey this is Todd, he’s the youngest member on this trip and a new edition to the church’s Beaver Patrol. Todd this is Joey.”

Joe hated being called Joey. Only his two young sisters called him that and he forgave them because they were just babies as far as he was concerned. He wanted desperately to correct the priest as he babbled on but knew it could be regarded as back-chat and he’d get into more trouble. He stayed silent.

“You two have something in common,” the animated priest continued. “This is the first time at camp for both of you… and neither knows any of the others very well.”

He paused and looked in the mirror to see if there was any reaction. Joe looked apathetic about the entire situation, whilst young Todd looked over at the grown-up boy sitting next to him hopeful of some kind words. Todd’s big blue eyes and blond hair made him look like a big toddler, which wasn’t helped by the obviously new Beaver kit he was wearing, which sort of dwarfed the boy. His relatively baggy shorts came down to his knees exposing his slight slim legs, whilst his shirt, bereft of any badges, looked like it had only been unwrapped that morning. It was all creased and new so evidently his parents hoped he’d grow into it over the coming year or so.

Joe tried to ignore the little fellow but a small hand reached across and took his as if searching for reassurance. Joe knew that action as his sisters often sought comfort from their big brother in a similar way if they were scared or going somewhere new or had to meet new people. Despite his own misgivings, he couldn’t let Todd stay distressed so gave it a supportive squeeze. The boy smiled and huddled closer to Joe who didn’t really know where to put himself.

A few minutes later they pulled into a service station. The boys piled out of the bus and headed straight for the washrooms, games and candy stores… except Joe, Todd and four other boys; Bobby, Graham, Benny and Tommy were required to wait on the bus. Father John asked them all if they were wet. Joe shrugged in embarrassment, whilst Todd nodded and so did two of the other cubs. It was only then that Joe became aware that he wasn’t the only one on the bus wearing protection.

Father John was very sympathetic.

“OK, you two,” he indicated Benny and Tommy who were still dry, “you can go.”

“Thanks Father,” they chorused before running off excitedly to join the others.

The priest continued. “We’ll give them all a couple of minutes then Terry and I will sort you boys out and get you into something drier.”

The priest noticed young Todd grip Joe’s hand tightly.

“Todd you don’t have to be scared. Terry’s a nice…” but Todd’s eyes filled up and he started to cry whilst clinging harder onto Joe.

“Well Joey,” the priest said as if he’d made a decision, “it looks like you’re the one Todd trusts”.

The priest confided in Joe.

“This is the first time Todd has ever been away from home without his mummy or daddy with him. So, Joey… I’m relying on you.
I’m sure this wouldn’t be the first time you’ve had to look after someone as young as him… and… er… you’ll need to change his nappy.”

The priest looked at him as if he was both questioning his abilities and throwing down a challenge.

Joe shuddered at the idea but didn’t know exactly how much his mother had told Father John. If he denied that he’d ever changed a nappy before and she’d already said he used to change Susan, he would be caught in a lie and that would mean only one thing… punishment. He’d already experienced the swift and effective punishment at the priest’s hand and was in no hurry to relive that particular pain or embarrassment again. Also, if he refused to do something that he actually could do, no doubt that would also mean a similar fate.

All these thoughts zipped through his mind as he just shrugged his shoulders and said he’d looked after his little sister when she was a toddler so…

“Good, good, I’m sure Todd will be a lot happier knowing you’re the one who’ll be taking care of him.”

So, Joe was going to be responsible for the little Beaver, his heart sank, he just didn’t want to be involved in any of this dumb camp crap.

The priest sent them to the back of the bus where Terry had prepared a changing mat and all the supplies organised for the wet cubs.

However, just before Joe turned to follow the others Father John stopped him.

“Sorry Joey,” the priest held up his hand. “Your mother was insistent that I make sure you’re, well, not lying.”

Joe looked at the formidable man and wondered what he meant.

“I need to check.”

A shudder ran down Joe’s spine as he realised just what it was he was going to do, and then, almost in the same moment, knew that this was going to be a regular occurrence and one he had no power to resist so had better get used to.

He sighed heavily as the priest ran a finger up his shorts leg and under the protection to make sure all was well. After a few seconds of inspection, which to his credit Father John did with the least amount of fuss or embarrassment for Joe, he nodded that he was dry and they filed down the aisle to the back of the bus.

On the back seat, Terry had just finished with Bobby, an eight year-old who didn’t seem in the least bit put out by being changed in public. In fact, as Terry sprinkled on the baby powder, there was a look of absolute joy on his face as the disposable was taped snuggly into place. Before he was allowed to pull up his own shorts a thin pair of clear plastic pants was rustled up his legs as the process was completed.

Terry patted his well-padded bottom as he waddled with a huge grin on his face back to his seat. Graham was next, and again Terry, who was planning a career in care, and was well on his way to another diploma, had the boy cleaned, wiped, powdered and in a new disposable in seconds. The compassionate scout looked unbelievably striking even standing in what some might think of as a juvenile uniform; his shorts and shirt all appeared well-pressed and in pristine condition even after the boy’s soggy nappies had been so capably removed.

The seven year-old seemed relieved to be out of his wet stuff and into something dry. His very crinkly plastic pants didn’t appear so noisy once his shorts were in place. He shyly thanked Terry and again the finished article had his padded bottom gently tapped as he went off and sat next to Bobby. It was then the nervous youngster’s turn.

Joe noticed that Terry had changed the other boys with speed and efficiency and at the same time made it appear no big deal to his wet charges. There was no embarrassment, no silly jokes about wet or stinky pants, no making the boys feel anything but that it was the most natural thing to be done. He saw he had a lot to live up to.

The other cubs were returning to the bus but, as Father John had closed the door to give the boys a bit of privacy, could only noisily queue up waiting to be allowed back.

Terry vacated the area but remained nearby in case he was needed. Meanwhile, Joe helped an uneasy Todd lay out on the plastic changing mat, then slowly unzipped the boy’s shorts and pulled them down. He was wearing the cutest little pair of cartoon plastic pants but it was easy to see that the disposable underneath was very wet indeed. Like a toddler, Todd was sucking on his thumb but now the procedure was underway appeared relaxed and content with what was about to happen.

Obviously this wasn’t something new to Todd and no doubt, to his parent’s distress, their growing boy still needed his protection. Joe took his time wiping the boy clean, making sure his damp little cock and tiny ball sack were clean and dry; he even tickled him as he did so.

A brief feeling of envy zoomed through his mind as he thought that at least Todd was lucky, his genitals hadn’t gotten him into trouble yet.

Unaware of what was going through Joe’s head, and for the first time since he boarded the bus, Todd smiled and playfully kicked his legs in the air. As he continued the process Joe repeated to the now happy little Beaver about all the things Terry had mentioned there was to do at camp and what they might get up to once they arrived.

He nonchalantly plonked the wet disposable into the plastic bag that Terry had put the others in and began to powder Todd. Unfortunately, he squeezed the container a little bit too hard and the young boy was engulfed in a huge cloud, which left his entire lower body covered in the sweet smelling stuff.

Joe froze.

Suddenly everyone else was engulfed in fits of laughter and even a whiter than white Todd was giggling at what happened. Joe didn’t dare look directly at the priest but out of the corner of his eye he saw both him and Terry doubled up with mirth. Another shiver ran through his body but this time not one of dread but one of relief.

He rubbed what he could into Todd and got him into a fresh disposable, pulled up those colourful cartoon pants, which he’d told Todd looked fantastic (the comment brought a huge smile to the boy’s face), and finally had him struggle into his oversized shorts. Joe fastened the belt tightly and walked him back to his seat at the front of the bus. Meanwhile, in a matter of seconds, Terry had the back seats cleared of any evidence as to what had taken place. The powder wiped up, the nappies removed and the supplies back in the bag which he placed in the overhead shelf.

The priest opened the door and the crowd of raucous kids ran to their seats, perhaps wondering what the lovely sweetish smell was but otherwise none the wiser as to what had just taken place. Once everyone was back on board, the scouts counted their flock and confirmed the number to Father John before he closed the door, put the bus into gear and slowly drove off the forecourt of the service station.

The mood of the cubs had not lessened, and now that they were on the final leg of the journey, their excitement seemed to grow, as did the noise. Even Todd, sitting next to Joe, appeared happier and was actually joining in some of the songs and games that were being organised by Malcolm, one of the other scouts. There was a lot of laughter and shouting but it was only after about five minutes of being back on the road that Joe realised he desperately needed a pee. He felt stupid that he hadn’t taken advantage of the stop but would have appeared silly if he asked for the bus to stop again so soon.

No. He was convinced he could last; it couldn’t be that much further to the campsite. In fact, he’d just seen a sign that said ‘Lakes 45 miles’.

“Well that isn’t far,” he said quietly to himself and uncomfortably settled back in his seat. Despite the noise all around him and constant nudges from a newly excitable Todd, he dozed lightly.

He woke up just as a sign sped past proclaiming only another 39 miles to the Lakes.

Joe wished he’d been napping longer but it had only been a relatively short time. However, he was suddenly aware of a warm feeling in his nappy. “Oh God” he thought because he was still pissing himself even though he was awake but couldn’t stem the flow. He screwed up his eyes and desperately wanted to stop but his full and straining bladder hadn’t run its course, so the stream continued. He couldn’t believe he was conscious and still pissing his pants but the warm area grew as the soaker pads did their job. The warmth engulfed his groin and slowly started to inch its way up the back.

Joe writhed a little in his seat, the expansion in his shorts was getting quite noticeable and the plastic that had only just been visible down his pant leg became very obvious indeed. Joe groaned at such a disaster but desperately didn’t want anyone else to notice so tried to feign sleep even more. That wasn’t going to happen as a new game which had recently been started filtered down his side of the bus from the back and now he and Todd had to respond with an answer. He hadn’t really grasped what the game was all about but other kids had been calling out names of cars so, cajoled by Todd, who seemed to be thoroughly engrossed and enjoying the game, he did as well.

“Erm… Red Nissan,” Todd squeaked first and the bus laughed at his cute high-pitched reply.

“No, one that nobody’s said yet,” One of the cubs piped up trying to be helpful.

At that moment a people carrier pulled in front of the bus and the priest had to apply the brakes to avoid hitting him. Thankfully there was some room to manoeuvre and the car zoomed off.

“Green Mitsubishi,” Joe shouted at the car as it pulled out in front of a lorry ahead.

“We have a winner.” An older voice announced from the rear of the bus.

The crowd cheered as that was the secret name of a car written on a card that Drew, one of the other scouts, held up to confirm Joe’s success.

Immediately Drew came down the aisle and patted both Joe and Todd on the back in congratulations (apparently they’d become a team just by sitting next to one and other) and gave them their prize for guessing correctly - a huge bag of candy.

Todd was very pleased that they’d won and couldn’t wait to share the candy. Joe was just glad that he didn’t have to get up and take a bow as then everyone would have seen his bulging shorts. He told Todd that he could have all the candy to himself but Todd being Todd, and thinking of the scouting pledge to always think of others, immediately got up and offered them around the bus.

“Father,” he whispered to the driver, “would you like a piece?”

“That’s very kind of you Todd… Joey… perhaps you can save me a piece for later.”

“Sure Father.”

So the happy youngster went off down the aisle offering his bag to everyone else. Todd was warmly thanked as each boy dug deep and fished out a piece, whilst Joe wriggled uncomfortably under the occasional watchful gaze of the priest.

Eventually, Todd returned to his seat with an empty bag, he hadn’t been able to save any for Father John, or himself for that matter, but despite that, he was glad of his little act of kindness. He shrugged as Joe looked and raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“What happened, didn’t you go first?” Joe enquired.

“Never thought,” the youngster shrugged back, “never mind, er, sorry Father, it’s all gone.”

“Bless you my son - that was a very nice thing to do.” He left his praise at that whilst he concentrated on the road ahead, which was suddenly getting much busier.

Meanwhile, the contented little boy snuggled up against his ‘hero’. One of his small hands was resting on the front of Joe’s abnormally bulging shorts. However, the soaked and embarrassed lad decided it was better not to draw attention to the fact and left the wayward hand where it was. Now he was no longer desperate to go to the toilet, in one way at least, he was probably as content as his small team mate.

To be continued….

Re: Joe’s Story Part 1-2-3

Part 3

After another hour or so the bus eventually pulled up at the edge of the lake. The kids took in their first view and it had to be said it was quite spectacular.

There were half a dozen wooden cabins and another three wooden and concrete buildings set in a semi-circle around a huge grassy area that led down to the lake’s edge. Two jetties ran out thirty feet into the water and moored alongside were several little boats. Set slightly back from the lake was a barbeque and an outdoor eating area but attached was a covered kitchen with seating in case the weather was unpleasant. Next door was a large building that could be used for anything but looked like it was the centre point of the place as it had a noticeboard screwed to the heavy main door. The other large building, with a white flag pole, complete with rather worse-for-wear flag drooping down, was like an admin block and store room, it also had the name of the camp written in large letters above the door – LAKE CAMBRIA. A long list of affiliated company names and their logos, including the Scouts, were written in gold lettering underneath. Set back behind that was the huge shower and toilet block, one side for males, the other for females. There were no females on this scouting expedition so they were free to use the entire building.

It was early afternoon, the sun was bright, the place looked fantastic and the entire bus load of kids yelled their approval as Father John opened the door to let them out. They had already been given their instructions and each of the four scouts had six cubs per cabin. They collected their sleeping bags, cases or backpacks and immediately went to their assigned cabin, all of which were colour-coded.

Terry, who, judging by the array of badges and medals on his shirt, seemed to be the most senior scout was given the ‘BLUE’ cabin (there were coloured flags on each of the cabin doors) and that was where Joe, Todd and the four other ‘nappy’ wearers would be housed. Once they’d carried their luggage and sleeping bags into their allotted ‘colour’ the boys scrambled to choose their own little cot, there were ten to each cabin.

Joe, was adamant he was not going to be part of all this so chose the one in the furthest corner away from the door, however, young Todd quickly claimed the one next to him. Terry, like the rest of the scouts, had the bed nearest the entrance, whilst the other boys formed their own little group in the central area. Each bed had a little chest of drawers by its side to store their belongings and the boys began to busily stow their stuff before they started on the day’s programme of events.

As Joe unloaded his rucksack he was amazed to find that his mother had only packed a few items and these were not what he was expecting; any chance of independence was dashed as he sorted through his possessions. Half a dozen pristine white t-shirts lay on top of several squares of equally white terry cloth that were obviously his nappies for the time he was there. His heart sank, also included were a large pack of pads, several pairs of plastic and rubber pants of various thicknesses (some white but mainly a dull opaque cream colour) and an assortment of creams, wipes and baby powder. There were a couple of towels, some toiletries and unbelievably she’d even packed a small teddy bear. The only sort of grown up piece of clothing was his favourite pair of swimming trunks – the pale blue Speedos he wore in competition at school. He felt so depressed he could have cried but that would have just made the point that his mum thought of him as a… as a… well, he had no idea what she thought but this was a terrible kick in the teeth to his self-esteem.

The other members of BLUE cabin were all very excited but they had been given their instructions whilst Terry supervised. He helped each lad if they needed it and told them that the sooner they finished the quicker they could enjoy camp. Benny was almost nine years-old, as was Tommy his cousin, they both had travelled in nappies (for security) but had not needed changing on the bus when the other’s had been. Now Terry checked them and they were still dry, as were Bobby and Graham and Todd. So, that was one thing that they had over Joe, who was sitting on the edge of his bed feeling distinctly uncomfortable.

He watched as the other kids put away their clothes and became envious of the ones who, though still wore protection themselves, had boxer shorts or briefs if they wanted them. Alas, his mother had made it perfectly clear he wasn’t going to be allowed such luxuries so he sat despondently on his bed wishing once again that he was dead.

The cool clamminess was having an effect in his shorts and the fact that he’d slyly peed a little bit more had filled him with both pleasure and guilt - and the nappy to saturation level. His protection now looked like it was desperate to explode out of his shorts, the zip hardly containing the mass behind it. More plastic was visible and the bulge made his slim figure appear somewhat misshapen. It wasn’t a good look.

However, he had to face up to the fact he needed to tell the priest. This was something he wasn’t looking forward to. He was, with every good reason, scared of this man of God who had been so brutal only the day before. His bottom was still tender and, if it had been in the least bit possible, would have had nothing at all to do with him.

However, his mother had given him definite instructions as he’d left that morning - he did nothing without consulting Father John and that included changing his nappy. Despite his desire to rebel at the very thought of this ‘rule’, he knew if both his parents had agreed to such punishment he’d better not cause trouble for fear of something worse (although what could be worse Joe had no idea).

Resentfully, he wandered around the camp until he found the priest who was busy unloading provisions into the canteen area. There were three other young men who were helping him. Perhaps in their late twenties early thirties, who must have been at the camp already as he didn’t recognise them and they hadn’t travelled on the bus.

“Ahh Joey, nice place isn’t it,” he was friendly but carried on effortlessly lifting a huge box into the kitchen.

The priest had been friendly and smiling since Joe unceremoniously boarded the bus, but he didn’t trust the man - he knew what he was really like if you got on his wrong side.

“Mmmm,” was the only way he could respond, he had no idea how to bring up what he needed to say. He didn’t want to appear desperate but the fact was he needed some attention.

The priest knew what the problem was, it was obvious even to the untrained eye that those bloated shorts required some attention but he wanted Joe to know he had to ask.

“Yes Joey… do you want something?” The priest continued with his unloading.

“Mmmm, er, mmmm, I’m, er wet.” He whispered when there was no one else around.

“So you need changing?” The busy priest enquired.

Joe reluctantly nodded.

“OK, but aren’t you going to ask me properly?”

He wished the stupid priest wasn’t making such a song and dance over this but he supposed it was another thing he’d have to get used to.

“Please would you change my nappy… please?” He whispered with huge a degree of embarrassment and anger at having to go to these ridiculous lengths.

“Nearly, but Joey, that’s not how you talk to me is it?” The priest had stopped his unloading and stood waiting for Joe to comply with the correct address. Joe wasn’t sure what else was needed.

“Everyone here calls me Father, so…”

He was eleven years old and not grown up enough to feel he could defy authority, even if he despised that authority and all it stood for. He had to remember that both his parents had decided this was to happen so he couldn’t fight anyone because the consequences could mean more of the same… for longer. It was difficult not to speak his mind or feel incensed - he was between a rock and a hard place and he hated it.

Joe wondered if he just got on and changed himself what would happen. He didn’t want to be wearing a nappy at all but if he had to, why not see to it on his own and in private. The problem was, he was bursting out of the little shorts he was wearing, even the zip appeared to have given up trying to keep everything in, so something needed sorting out fast. He then remembered his mother’s threat – if he didn’t check with the priest on everything – she would make sure he couldn’t sit down for a week. Now he knew she would deliver a severe spanking made him think twice about that course of action. What would be worse would be if Father John disciplined him in front of everyone??? No, he couldn’t take that chance he had to do as he’d been told and suffer the least severe of the consequences – embarrassment.

Joe was getting grumpier and wondered if this was worth it but he had no option. He needed something more comfortable and certainly drier in his shorts and this man was the only one who could do something about it. In fact, the wetness of the fabric was now causing the entire thing to bunch up and irritate his skin.

However, his need had overtaken his resistance.

“Please… Father,” he bit his lip, “can you please, please, please change my soaked nappy?”

The previously confident eleven year-old voice breaking slightly to reveal a nervous and timid younger voice underneath… the priest nodded, smiled and led him back to his cabin.

In the BLUE cabin Terry had been busy. He’d laid out all his cub’s sleeping bags and blankets and, more importantly, added the required waterproof sheets to the beds of those who were in danger of wetting. This was why all the cubs that had a ‘problem’ were put in the same room, so that there would be less embarrassment for all concerned. Those who wet could be changed in relative privacy and the rest of the pack need not be bothered. Not that it was something that needed to be hid away; it was just done to keep those who needed such attention together with a degree of confidentiality.

On the empty bed in the far corner opposite Joe, Terry had set up a changing area; a rubber protective cover, a towel, and various cartons of wipes, powder and similar necessities. Behind this, and like in all the other cabins, there was a small basic washroom of sink and toilet.

Meanwhile, all the other boys had left and were exploring their new home so it was just Father John, Terry and Joe.

“Excuse me Father, but do you still want me to help?” Terry wondered and who, to Joe at least, in build and attitude appeared to be a younger version of the priest. However, he was now keen to join the rest of the lads down by the lake.

“Well Joey, Terry is as qualified as I am but it’s up to you if you’d rather he changes you.”

The name ‘Joey’ still rankled him so before he answered.

"Er, can you stop calling me Joey, it’s so childish, my name’s Joe… I prefer Joe… or Joseph?

He shook with nerves as he thought about possibly releasing the holy man’s temper but he’d gained some of his belligerence back so the previous weak voice had slightly more power behind it.

The priest, though still smiling, looked him up and down as if he was weighing things up.

“Sorry buddy, the boys already call you Joey” he sounded like he was going to apologise, “and ‘Joey’ is a nice friendly name…”

Joe wanted to scream at the dumb priest that the only reason they called him that was because he called him that. He really did have to stifle his bubbling outburst of righteous indignation because he knew what would happen otherwise.

“…and we’re all friends here. OK Joey?”

The way he said it meant that was the end of that particular conversation, well at least, that’s how Joe read it. Besides, he was standing in front of the priest and aware of just how childlike his tiny bulging shorts made him look. It wasn’t a good time to start complaining about being called something he thought sounded too babyish, especially as he was just about to get his nappy changed.

Shrewdly he decided not to draw attention to the obvious contradiction… and thankfully, neither did the priest.

“Terry will be seeing to the other boys here in this cabin,” Father John continued, “so, who do you want, him or me, changing you because you have to know… you will not be allowed to change yourself.”

That was going to be Joe’s next request… so that option went out the window.

His mother’s rules applied just as much here as they did at home so there was no escaping his sentence. He was to have no freedom. His every move not only had to be sanctioned by the priest, but now the scouts, he was trapped and going to be treated as an incontinent tot.

However, he didn’t mind Terry. He’d seemed genuine and affable on the bus, and in truth, he was scared at the prospect of the priest being that intimate with him, or finding something that made him angry.

He made a decision.

“I suppose, seeing as he’s doing the others, it should be Terry.”

Joe looked up at the proud scout.

“Is that OK with you?”

“Of course,” he guided Joe over to the changing area.

Once the decision had been made as to exactly who would be doing what the priest nodded and left them in privacy.

“I’ve already checked the items your mother sent and as you’ll be wearing fabric not disposable nappies most of the time….” Terry was affable and very self-assured, “you’ll be responsible for their upkeep – washing, drying and such. I’ll show you where the laundry is later”

Joe hadn’t thought about that. Another level of embarrassment he thought as he began to unzip his shorts and lay out on the towel.

“Now we’re alone… er… can’t I do this myself? You don’t have to…” but Joe’s whisper was cut short by the formidable scout… his features hardened slightly.

“I’ve been entrusted with a job, a job you have asked me to do. There are rules and there are obligations, we can’t just decide which we want to follow and which we want to ignore.”

Joe wished he’d never said anything as he thought a lecture was on its way. Reluctantly he pulled off his shorts and saw that not only had his zip broken completely but his plastic pants had leaked so the seat had a large dark damp patch. He cringed because he knew that others would have noticed and wondered if that’s what the rest of the pack was now gossiping about. He groaned in frustration, anger and self-pity as Terry removed his leaky plastic pants and unpinned his heavy nappy.

“Here, we do as the Father says… and God’s bidding.”

The scout gently smiled and proceeded about his business as if that was the most ordinary thing in the world. Joe was about to argue when Terry continued.

“You’ve heard the saying ‘The Devil finds work for idle hands’? Well, according to your mother; the Devil has been finding you far too often and she thinks you might benefit from spending time in a more moral and structured environment.”

The last bit of what the scout said was lost as it became clear that more than just the priest knew about his ‘excessive’ masturbation. He got that his mother thought this stupid, thick barrier would prevent him from playing with himself but she must know that even when it did, things happen. Joe could have murdered his mother at that moment because of, as he saw it, such betrayal - why did she have to tell anyone?

He was naked, having his nappy changed by a ‘grown up juvenile’ (that was his low opinion of the scouting movement) and he was seething with resentment but could do nothing about it. His anger lasted just a moment before something more compelling filled his body - self-pity, and he sobbed in humiliation.

Although Terry had set out what he knew, sadly it had come across to Joe as something spiteful but that wasn’t how the scout had meant it. His tone was supposed to be understanding and sympathetic not accusatory. He actually did feel for the poor kid but knew he had a duty to God, the priest and Joey’s mother to try and help her son.

Terry was his efficient self, wiping and cleaning Joe up in moments. The redness on his naked bottom was the final fading glow from his spanking and not from any nappy rash but the scout still spread the protecting cream thoroughly over everything. Powder was liberally sprinkled and rubbed in, which despite himself Joe quite enjoyed. His fresh nappy was folded in a different way to how his mother did it, a soaker pad inserted, pulled firmly between his legs and all pinned tightly into place so expertly that Joe didn’t have time to feel overly self-conscious. As the plastic pants he’d been wearing were found to be cracked and causing the leak, Terry fed his feet into a newer but thicker pair of rubber pants. Just as they were finally pulled into place Father John returned with some fresh clothes.

Joe quickly wiped away the tears and acted like he was OK despite the fact that he was only wearing his rather bulky, though thankfully dry, protection. A quick look down only confirmed that he was wearing clothing that a toddler would have been ashamed to be seen in. Thanks to the smooth, glassy surface of his thick rubber pants hiding the nappy they still loudly proclaimed the wearer to be a pant-wetter. He hated it but he had no choice. He not only felt ridiculous and vulnerable but at a huge disadvantage, his protection rustling with the slightest movement. His mother had really made sure he was aware of his punishment at all times.

“Here, wear these.” The priest passed the items to Joe.

Who looked at them and seemed shocked.

“You want me to wear a cub’s uniform?” He said with a look of utter disgust.

“Yes, that’s the only spare clothing we have,” he explained to the disgruntled lad who watched despondently as Terry placed his wet and only pair of shorts in a plastic bag with his soaked nappy, t-shirt and the other used disposables.

“And besides, I think everyone regards you as one of the boys,” the priest enthused, “so I think you’ll fit in really well.”

Apart from the fact he didn’t want to wear a uniform, or fit in, he also didn’t like what it inferred: ‘One of the boys’ - it was like he was trying to make him feel like a little kid.

“Aren’t I too old to be a cub?” He checked out the second-hand plain green shirt and shorts. “At my age shouldn’t I be a scout at least?”

Suddenly he realised he was debating that he should be wearing the scout’s uniform instead of arguing against the entire situation. But before he could get his thoughts into some kind of perspective Father John was on his case.

“Sorry but if you’d joined the scouts maybe, however, you haven’t attained the respect that uniform gives to those who wear it, so no.”

The priest wasn’t playing any games with him, he was being very matter-of-fact.

“As I said, these are the only spare clothes we have so,” he was right in Joe’s face, “you can either wear them like the rest of the boys or walk around as you are… your choice.”

A thick nappy covered by cream coloured rubber pants wasn’t going to be a good look around camp so the choice was clear.

He should have known the nasty priest wouldn’t be sympathetic to his suggestions. After all it was his fault he was on this damn trip in the first place. He wanted to scream abuse at the bloody vicar but caught himself just in time, remembering what happened last time he swore.

Dejectedly he pulled the shorts over his protection, the slipperiness of the rubber helping the cotton fabric slide into place. It was an effort to fasten the buttons on his fly as he had to keep shoving the shiny bulk back behind them, a zip might have been easier. Without all this padding the shorts would have been acceptable but now packed so tightly, they left little to the imagination and revealed almost as much as his previous shorts. The shirt only came down to the top of his shorts and, like Todd’s had no badges or emblems.

Terry packed up the stuff and took it away leaving just Joe and Father John in the cabin together. Once he was dressed he spoke to the priest about why he was there. He expected some vindictive reply but thought he had nothing to lose, or at least he hoped he didn’t.

“You told mum I was here to help out because you were a volunteer down but…”

He spread his hands as if appealing for further information.

A sort of smile spread across the priest’s face and he sat down next to the cute new cub that, albeit unwillingly, had just become part of the pack.

“To be honest Joey, it was a bit of a ruse…”

“You mean you lied?” A suspicious Joe shook his head.

“Well, a lie is a bit strong. You see, your mother wanted you to spend some time with us, in the church’s company, away from your friends who she saw as a bad influence.”

Joe was getting a little agitated but said nothing as he fidgeted around in his thick nappy.

“Now I’m not saying they are, but your mother, she just wants what’s best for you… and wanted you to experience a slightly different type of influence. I suggested you join us and be part of our camping trip… as a way of… getting to know us.”

Joe was stunned at the deceit.

“We thought it might be more acceptable if you volunteered to come and help us out, a sort of act of Christian charity but, well, you changed all that…”

Joe’s anger had just been turned in itself because he now realised that it was his own petulant outburst and foul language that had sealed his fate. Suddenly his body was wracked by a spasm that just overwhelmed him and his eyes filled up once again because he felt utterly defeated.

“But, but, why am I being punished like this.”

He pleaded as he looked down at his juvenile outfit and thick nappy.

“Joe, you need to understand. The idea for you to come on this trip was as a treat. It was… and is… supposed to be fun for you. The trip isn’t meant to be a punishment your mother even said you liked to go camping. We want you to have as much fun as everyone else but… the nappy is to help remind you.”

The priest got serious but the malicious words and cruel opinion Joe expected just weren’t there.

“Joey, your mother worries you masturbate far too much and that you appear to enjoy this particular sin. The church is very clear about self-abuse and although we are glad to have you with us, we will not allow that type of un-Godliness to occur or influence young minds. Do you understand?”

The tears welled up even more as he realised it was true, he did like to masturbate but, he never saw it as a sin… it was just… fun. Why was his mother so concerned about something that happened naturally?

The priest continued to speak in an even tone.

“It isn’t natural that you persist in this obvious grievous sin.”

Joe disagreed but the steely eye of the priest and his inflexible insistence that what he said was fact made it impossible to argue. He felt the fight begin to drain under the religious certainties Father John was expounding.

“You have made no attempt to curtail your activities and she worries that God will punish you if she doesn’t. So, together with your defiance of our Lord… that is why you are to wear the protection… not only for your own salvation but, whilst you are with us, as protection to all the other boys here.”

Joe couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This was utter nonsense, he wasn’t a threat but he hadn’t realised how worried his mother had become or how sinful the act was. Nevertheless, he HAD curtailed his night time activities, he’d had to, but, even wrapped up in his impregnable nappy she’d still found his slimy juice that morning so, it should have been obvious it wasn’t his fault.

However, how could he express all this to a damn priest? What possible insight could he have into the way an eleven year-old boy’s body worked? What would he know about self-denial?

He felt totally alone and dejected but the priest adopted a friendlier approach.

“Look, we’re all here to have a great time. Don’t let what you wear be a problem. Accept that’s the way it is and move on. You’re not alone in having protection to help you, well, with help getting your priorities right.”

No doubt there were some religious tracts that explained and condemned it but Joe was having trouble understanding why he should wear a nappy.

“Look, some boys need them because their bodies don’t receive a signal when they need to go to the bathroom - others of a certain age need them when that particular area gets too many inappropriate signals.”

So the nappy was a reminder, a barrier and protection so that others… what…? The priest hoped Joey knew what was meant without further explanation.

“There will be plenty of things here for you to enjoy and… as it turns out… your help is needed.”

Joe was dismayed at what Father John implied. However, his sniffling had started to abate as he listened.

“You have made a friend. Young Todd thinks you are simply wonderful. He dotes on your every word, he follows you around. In fact I bet if I opened the door now he’d be standing outside waiting for you. So, whether you want to or not, you are going to be responsible for him.”

“But, I, I, I don’t…” Joe stammered.

“Well Joey, this is the thing,”

His tone got gentler as the priest moved his face closer to Joe’s and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“Here at a Christian camp we do things for other people, sometimes, whether we want to or not because it’s good to be selfless, to think of other people’s needs.”

He stopped for a breath and then continued.

“Do you think that four eighteen year-old’s like Terry, Andy, Malcolm or Drew have nothing better to do than give up their spare time so that others…?”

Joe tried to zone out as he didn’t like the way this conversation was going.

“… their Christian values, their desire to help, their scouting ethics…”

To Joe this was just Catholic guilt ladled on heavily but it appeared to be having some effect.

He couldn’t quite tear his eyes away from the priest’s earnest but surprisingly now gentle features, which were completely at odds to how his expression had been when he tanned his backside. What he said and how he expressed it made him take notice. He may have desperately wanted to be elsewhere but he realised he couldn’t ignore the man.

Joe was squirming around in his new uniform. Not that it was noticeable it just felt that way, and the strange thing was, the nappy was offering some kind of comfort. Joe wasn’t sure how this happened but he could feel its tight, dry grip under his shorts and felt better as a result – possibly the difference from a dry, snug nappy to a soaked, droopy, irritating one.

“When was the last time you did anything without thinking of yourself first?” The priest both questioned and accused.

Put on the spot Joe felt shamed and vulnerable – when had he done anything for someone else?

Father John left him with one final thought.

“While you are here you will treat everyone with respect and listen and do everything that the scouts tell you to do… they are here for everyone’s safety. I don’t want your sinful ways affecting the cubs and I don’t want to hear any inappropriate language - if I do… well…”

Joe’s hand involuntarily rubbed his padded bottom at what he perceived to be an implied threat.

I’m putting you on your best behaviour and I’m expecting you to live up to that challenge. You’re a member of the cubs now so, obey the scouts, obey me and obey the word of our Lord and you won’t go wrong."

The priest got up, the conversation was over and Joe was being left to think. As he opened the door a little head popped around and said.

“Hey Joey, are you coming to the lake, they’ve got a boat we can go on?”

To be continued…

Re: Joe’s Story Part 1-4

Part 4

Despite everything, Joe was grateful to be out of his damp nappy and into something so much more comfy. Terry had pinned him in tightly but it didn’t feel as awkward as when his mother had done it. The newer, thicker rubber pants were also very snug and held everything in place. He was thrown by how accommodating the priest had been in answering his questions. He was expecting sarcasm and a battle of some kind but it just didn’t happen.

Father John had been correct; after Joey and Todd had been officially introduced as new recruits the pack treated them like their own, even if they were still novices. All the boys were now dressed the same, which had been the priest’s idea from the start. As far as he was concerned Joe had to understand the good of all superseded the desires of the individual, and that would be despite his nappy. He wanted Joe to conform and accept his place as part of this group and getting him to dress the same and giving him some responsibility had been easier than he thought it might. In fact, he was hopeful that Mrs Griffith’s and his plan, to get him more involved with the church, was coming together rather well, even though it was still early days.

The afternoon was full of discovery finding out what Lake Cambria had to offer. Father John had not lied; this place was in a beautiful location. The position of the camp made for calm waters and a slightly more private area. It nestled at the end of what looked like a narrow inlet shaded by fir trees on either side that came almost all the way down to the water’s edge. Pathways led off in all direction, whilst the constant buzz of insects, warm sun and gently lapping waves, made the entire scene idyllic. However, just fifty yards out it opened up and gave access to the rest of the more turbulent parts of the lake. In the distance yachts, pleasure craft, tourist boats and other water enthusiasts could be seen and the occasional speedboat would zoom close to their camp. All the cubs would wave and get very excited if anyone waved back.

The cubs and scouts occupied four of the cabins; the priest had one to himself (PURPLE), whilst the three chef/volunteers Joe had seen helping Father John unload the bus of provisions shared the sixth (ORANGE). The camp may have been in a secluded area but was far from a peaceful retreat. The cubs made sure it was full of noisy excitement, childish chatter and loads of laughter.

The scouts had organised a programme of activities where the colour of your cabin became the side you were on for any games requiring teams. This saved the embarrassment of waiting to be picked. The scouts were eager to share another little fact; every team would gain points, which would be totted up at the end of each day and the colour (cabin) that had the most points at the end of the entire trip, would win an unspecified prize. So, the incentive was there for all the cubs in each cabin to work together.

Joe was adamant that he wasn’t going to play this silly game, even though it was no different from the way his soccer team played or his swimming competitions were organised. If the rest of the kids were anything to go by he didn’t want to be sucked into this religious set of losers and become a ‘God-fearing’ cub.

He didn’t want to be treated as a stupid little kid and yet, every time he sat down or bent over, his protection could be seen or the rustle heard by anyone nearby. Even after just a couple of steps his heavy rubber pants would be briefly visible. It was hard to take the high-ground of being ‘almost’ an adult when his nappy was showing. On top of that it hadn’t taken some of the cubs long to point that simple fact out if Joe got a bit clever and condescending about being the eldest.

Joe did have a problem. No matter how much he thought of himself as separate from the rest of the cubs, that he was different and didn’t really belong, he soon found his resentment and inhibitions fading once he joined in with the rest of the pack. The brooding and angry boy on the bus had somehow been absorbed into the fun and enthusiasm of a group of people he would have mocked only hours earlier.

Occasionally, he found himself thoroughly enjoying himself and having to remember that he wasn’t there to have fun. He was there under duress and he wasn’t going to like any of it, then moments later he would be back screaming and joining in with the rest of the lads his mind simply focused on fun.

Todd and Joe were the only ones without badges on their sleeve, not that Joe wanted any, but, unknown to them, almost everything that was planned for the cubs led in some way to gaining a badge of some sort.

That first evening the meal was cooked by the three volunteer chefs with help from two of the scouts, Malcom who was leader of YELLOW cabin and Andy who led RED and of course Father John was on hand to do his bit. It was simply sausages, mashed potato and baked beans but the boys, enticed by the tasty smell, lined up in the shape of what appeared to be a very ravenous and noisy snake.

They sat at the row of tables under the failing sun but it was still gloriously warm. Despite the weather and the activities they were all still wearing their uniforms. The cub code liked the uniform to be worn as a complete item, not in bits or with parts missing. Father John subscribed to this, some might say, old fashioned way of dressing but he wanted his boys to be smart at all times and a credit to anyone who saw them.

Everyone was famished from the afternoon’s activities but before anyone could take even the slightest nibble Father John had to say grace. It wasn’t something Joe ever did, his mother had tried to introduce it but he just ignored her. As the other kids didn’t mind, in fact appeared to expect it (the church had trained them well) he could feel their eyes on him as he slowly put down the fork piled with beans that had been heading toward his hungry mouth. Joe was resentful but went along with the others as it would have seemed rude to just tuck in whilst others waited to be served and thanks given. Peer pressure can make you do a lot of things you wouldn’t do under normal circumstances.

Todd never left Joe’s side. He wanted to do everything there was to do but with Joe within arm’s length and, despite the new cub’s utter resentment to begin with regarding his enforced responsibility, the little Beaver’s eagerness was hard to shake and not appreciate his childish, nervous steps into this new, slightly more grown up world.

Father John had offered to take Todd on this camping expedition to help out his family. His mother was going into hospital for a major operation and his father, through work and attending to his wife, just couldn’t cope with their only child as well. Todd hadn’t wanted to leave his ailing mother, although he was never told just how sick she was, but both parents had been keen on their little boy enjoying the summer at camp. Normally, Todd would have been too young to be involved with the cubs but Father John being Father John had made it so that he could be included. Now he had a ‘big brother’ to look up to he seemed a lot happier and relaxed. The tears that had accompanied the start of the journey were now lost in the mists of time as he began to enjoy being with all these bigger boys.

The meal was simple and, simply delicious. Joe thought it had been well worth putting up with a few prayers for such a good meal after a fantastic day. Despite everything, Joe had got involved in sailing, rowing, badminton and a host of other games. It had been difficult to keep up the pretence of irritation by it all when there was so much to enjoy. Even when his protection bunched up and became uncomfortable he was having far too much fun to let it worry him. The only thing he hadn’t managed to do was go swimming; he thought his ‘security’ would be too obvious and prominent if he had to wear it under his Speedos.

However, after the meal, he’d suggested and helped organise a six-aside soccer tournament involving each cabin in a round-robin play off. The scouts were to be the referees, and so there was no favouritism, a different scout from the colours playing was put in charge. Everyone seemed happy with the arrangements and while the two teams played they were screamed on by the other colours and Father John who was very animated.

The games were short, just ten minutes each way, but the huge grassy circle that the cabins were spread around made a wonderful pitch as the boys careered around tackling and showing off their skills. Joe was a good player, he was centre-forward in the school team but some of the cubs were of equal talent, which shocked him. The fact that he was wearing exactly the same cub’s uniform as everybody else didn’t seem to matter now as he tackled with the best of them. He wasn’t going to let his bulky nappy detract from how good a player he was and even little Todd nervously played along.

The mini-tournament was a great success (Andy’s REDs coming out winners) and seemed to be enjoyed by everyone, which gained a smile of appreciation from the priest who was pleased with the way the newest recruit to the pack was fitting in.

As the sun set a huge fire was organised and, with a few twinkling stars brightening up the purple dusk, the scouts brought out instruments. Drew, leader of GREEN cabin, played guitar, as did Malcolm and together they got everyone singing along. Even Joe found he was having too much of a good time to let his slowly dissipating rage spoil such a splendid evening. Old songs were sung and the scouts taught the cub’s new ones that they had been taught when they were starting out themselves. It was all very jolly with their rousing but unbroken voices travelling over the water in the fresh night air.

There was a joke telling contest, which although might have been problematic, went off without as much as a naughty word. The pack was having such a good time; their humour was very silly, so no matter how stupid the joke was, the rest of the cubs found it hilarious. Eventually the boys all fell into little groups to discuss the events of the day. Father John informed them that on the back of every cabin door would be the list of chores for the following day, which they would have to complete. However, no one seemed upset at having to work as well as play; it all tallied up eventually to gaining a new badge.

Later, under the bright firelight, the boys drank cocoa, ate cookies and chatted whilst Drew, a very knowledgeable and talented individual, pointed out the names of stars and planets as they came into view. A shooting star extracted a huge cheer from the boys, whilst a sliver of the new moon poked its head above the dark shadowy trees. The highly reflective nature of the lake was only occasionally disturbed by a leaping fish or a ripple caused by the light breeze. Even as the slightly less raucous noise carried on around him a sleepy Todd had curled up in Joe’s lap, his head resting on his friend’s cushioned bulge, contentedly snoozing.

Father John noticed and softly suggested that Joe should take him back to the cabin and get him ready for bed. It was fairly early but the little Beaver was tuckered out and woke up drowsily as he was gently roused from the lovely dream he was having. Of course once he was awake he didn’t want to leave and moaned a little bit until Father John argued that it was time all good Beavers were in bed. As he was being led away from the campfire Todd reached for Joey’s hand and immediately felt contented.

Once inside the cabin Todd gave an enormous yawn and unsteadily made his way to his cot. It hadn’t occurred to Joe that this changing business was a strange thing to ask an eleven year-old to do with someone he didn’t really know. He thought it must be part of the programme of ‘events’ that these ‘church folk’ do, so gave it no more thought.

The older boy helped Todd out of his clothes, folded them (as his father had taught him so they were immediately ready the next day) and placed them on top of the little chest of draws. Before checking his nappy, he fished out his PJs, a clean disposable and a new set of plastic pants. Todd’s PJs were yellow, with a racing car motif and the words ‘Vrrroooom’ all over them, his plastic pants were an opaque yellow so matched them perfectly. The little Beaver had wet himself; his nappy was cold and damp so it hadn’t just happened. Joe thought he’d better check with him to see if he needed to do anything else before being cleaned up.

The tired Beaver slowly shook his head as he lay all but naked on the changing bed and Joe commenced his operation. His cute plastic pants crinkled as they were removed but his disposable was just as sodden as last time. It was amazing how much a disposable could soak up. Mind you, according to other wearers, they didn’t leave you feeling particularly wet, which probably explained why Todd hadn’t asked to be changed earlier.

Joe wondered how such a little fellow could produce so much pee but thankful that was all he’d deposited. Again he wiped the boy thoroughly, rubbed in the anti-rash cream and sprinkled on the powder but this time the lack of giggles proved how sleepy the little tyke was, so was able to be dressed in his night time protection without any fuss.

Joe was happy that Todd, suitably oiled and well-powdered, looked a great deal more snug now he was in a dry disposable and, as he threaded the boy’s legs into the smooth, yellow plastic pants, noticed he was almost asleep. The cub pulled the Beaver’s PJs into place and as he did so the youngster softly moaned, hugged his friend tightly and wriggled in contentment before being gently led to his cot. The soft crinkle of the plastic sheet over the mattress a reminder of his status as a possible bed-wetter - the youngster didn’t complain.

However, just as Joe was about to leave, Todd sat bolt upright (the loud crinkling making it sound more dramatic than it actually was) and exclaimed that he hadn’t said his prayers. He quickly shuffled out of bed and onto his knees at the side, put his hands together and was about to start his prayer when he asked if Joey would join him.

Joe was taken aback. He didn’t believe in all this religious mumbo jumbo and was dead against doing anything that made it appear he believed in God. The problem was, Todd’s sweet little plea to pray for his mother to get well and his huge weepy eyes meant that Joe had very little choice, and, as there was no one else around, he did as requested.

Kneeling together at the side of the bed, Joe could see the boy’s well-padded bottom and plastic pants peeking slightly over the waistband - he tucked him in better. He wasn’t aware that, as he knelt in prayer, his own protection was just as visible to anyone who was looking.

He let Todd thank the Lord for giving him a wonderful day in such a beautiful place. He wanted the Father, the scouts and all the cubs blessed before he asked God to make his mother better. Joe thought that was the end and was about to join him in a final ‘Amen’ but Todd had one last thank you and he thanked God for giving him a big brother who he loved. He reached out, and even though he had his eyes closed as he said the prayer, he squeezed the hand of the older boy he was so thankful for.

“Amen,” they both quietly said as Todd slowly clambered noisily back into his cot.

Once he was sure Todd was settled he turned to leave and was surprised to see Father John standing in the doorway. He hadn’t heard the priest enter and was nervous about what had just taken place. He needn’t have worried; he was smiling and told Joe that he was pleased with the way the day had progressed and thanked him for all his help and his fantastic idea of the soccer tournament. He suggested that the following afternoon, Joey should organise a swimming contest and if he did, he could be out of his nappy and wearing his swimming trunks for the entire time he was in the water. On the proviso he’d be back in his protection, as per his mother’s instructions, once the water sports were over.

Joe was surprised and excited at the idea and thanked the priest but wondered why this change of attitude? There was no obvious explanation other than he was ‘fitting in’ and becoming part of the camp rather than aloof from it. And, it had to be said, he was enjoying this camp more than he’d ever done with his family. His father was fantastic, full of ideas and adventures but his mother and sisters just didn’t put any life into it at all and so, any organised expeditions often fell a little flat.

However, Father John did tell him that he needed to check his nappy as he wanted the new cub to stay with the sleepy little Beaver now he was in bed. Joe was upset at having to retire so early and missing out on whatever else was going on down by the water’s edge but quickly realised that any argument might mean he’d be in his nappy all the time and swimming would not be allowed.

The priest wasn’t in his face or demanding, or ordering, or being anything but a perfect thoughtful priest. The nappy check was just something that he knew had to be done. He wasn’t making a big thing about it, he wasn’t being vindictive. His nappy needed changing, so there was no point in Joe making something out of it that wasn’t there.

He made a quick decision. Let the priest have his way tonight, don’t fight him, just do as he says and work out how to defeat him in the morning.

Although Terry had been put in charge of Joey’s nappy changes, it was obvious Father John was equally ready to do what needed to be done. He pointed to the changing bed and indicated to get ready. Joe shrugged off his shorts and shirt, folded them neatly as he had done Todd’s clothes and then lay out on the welcoming towel. The smell of powder and lotion hung in the air as he shuffled down his rubber pants, the father could tell that his nappy was indeed soaked and that he needed a fresh one for the night.

“When were you going to ask to be changed?” The Father enquired with raised eyebrows.

“I didn’t want to put Terry out so I thought I’d wait until bed time…so…”

“OK, that’s thoughtful of you but you must understand that a wet fabric nappy can give you a rash so, in future, let one of us know right away so we can make you more comfortable… OK bud?”

The new recruit, who had felt an itch earlier so could see the wisdom of these words, just nodded in agreement.

The priest was as efficient as his Number Two and had Joey well wiped, lotion applied, well powdered and tightly bound with the required amount of pads in next to no time. He searched in his draw for a different pair of plastic pants and some PJs. However, that was something his mother hadn’t packed so he would be sleeping only in a white t-shirt and protection. The priest found a pair of thin white plastic pants which, much to Joey’s despair, were very crinkly as he pulled them up his legs. He desperately wanted to complain but, thinking of his Speedos and the lack of a nappy whilst he was swimming meant he kept his thoughts to himself.

In the distance the revelry was still going on down by the lake and Joe wished he was there but the priest said that everyone else would be going to bed shortly so he wouldn’t be missing out on much anyway. He also thanked Joey for being good to Todd and praying with him… it meant a lot to the boy.

“Goodnight Todd,” The priest whispered but there was no reply. Todd was already fast asleep.

Joe tried to climb into his bed without making a sound and disturbing Todd, alas his crinkly pants and the noisy plastic sheet meant that there was quite a resonance as he got comfortable.

“Goodnight Joey.”

“Er, yes, er, g’night, er…” This was hard for Joe but he was still thinking about his Speedos. “Father.”

“Goodnight boys.” The priest silently closed the door behind him.

For a few minutes Joe crinkled unhappily but soon the comfort of wearing a dry nappy felt good. As always his hand drifted towards his crotch and the smooth plastic protection. Although the feeling was nice it was also a reminder for him to not spend any further time exploring an area which had got him into so much trouble. He whipped his hand away as if he’d been burned, scared of what might happen otherwise. It was bizarre - he didn’t believe in God but now he couldn’t get out of his mind that someone was constantly watching and judging him.

There was still some laughter and the odd piece of music drifting in through the open cabin window, together with the sound of insects buzzing and the occasional hoot, screech or yelp from the local wildlife. However, Joe didn’t hear any of that, nor the other members of the BLUE team come to bed, because he was simply worn out and quickly as dead to the world as Todd.

During the night Joe was vaguely aware of a body climbing into his bed. Unconsciously he wrapped his arm around the figure and hugged him tightly. He seemed to automatically know it was Todd because he could feel the small warm body as it fitted nicely into the crook of his hips. Another give away to the identity of his visitor was their padding rubbing up against each other as they huddled together. As Joe moved from dozing to deep sleep his mind was filled with dreams of his friends back home.

Syed was suddenly wearing yellow PJs with racing cars all over them and they were playing soccer on a beach. Joe was wearing his usual kit, as were all the other team mates, so it was only Syed who was dressed differently. For some reason he was having a problem running around after the ball and when someone suggested he would perhaps play better if he lost the PJs he nervously said he couldn’t do that. However, because his side were losing they ganged up on him and stripped him out of his PJs only to find him squirming in embarrassment as he sat on the ground in a very thick nappy. He started to cry so Joe, not wishing to see his friend in distress, picked him up and hugged his weeping pal tightly. A surge of emotion ripped through Joe’s body as he patted his best friend in an attempt to make him feel better. He kept saying it was all OK and not to worry, despite his team mates chuckling at his friend’s soaked nappy. Meanwhile his thick, crinkly plastic nappy rubbed against Joe’s thin nylon shorts and not surprisingly he immediately got a stiffy and…

He was snuggling his best friend when he was roused from sleep to see Terry standing over him.

“Joey, JOEY,” he shook him from his slumber.

It was the small figure of Todd, not Syed, who was squirming in his arms as he also tried to wake up.

Terry didn’t look pleased. “Joey let him go.”

Suddenly aware he was still holding his little friend tightly he released his grip.

Todd, with his yellow plastic pants visible well above his slipped PJ bottoms turned, gave him a quick peck on the cheek and said; “Thanks for looking after me.”

“Time to get up Joey. We have the female side of the shower block for the next fifteen minutes before RED take it.” Terry pulled back Joe’s blanket and revealed his open sleeping bag which displayed his full glossy protection.

Joe wasn’t sure what was going on but could see the other cubs in their PJs getting up, gathering their toiletries and waiting to be led to the washrooms by Terry. The scout, even in his sleepwear of boxers and t-shirt looked amazing as he helped Todd get his stuff together and also check if he was wet - he was and would be attended to after the morning ablutions.

Bobby, Graham, Benny and Tommy had all slept in pull-ups but only Tommy had wet during the night. The plastic sheet on Tommy’s bed sparing him any leaking embarrassment but Joe heard Terry whisper to him that it would be ‘thicker disposable and plastic pants in future’. Tommy looked ashamed at having had an accident so nodded sheepishly to what the scout suggested. The little group didn’t seem to mind that Terry checked each one and then sent them off to the shower block as he returned to Joey.

“Sorry Joey but the Father’s rule is ‘morning inspection’, so I’ll need to check.”

Well, he’d already checked the other boys to see if they would need ‘extra help’ the following night, so the instruction wasn’t unexpected.

“'It’s OK, I’m not wet, I think I can last a nigh…”

But he was wrong. As Terry checked under the plastic pants it was evident from his expression that he was indeed wet. He pulled down the protection and unpinned the nappy. It was damp but most damning of all were the streaks of glistening ejaculate that were lying in the fabric’s folds.

“I, I, I…” Joe spluttered, “I never touched myself, honest, I never did nothing. It’s not my fault. I, I, Oh Terry, please, please, PLEASE don’t tell Father John.”

The evidence was there and he couldn’t deny it. He sobbed, begging Terry not to tell the priest but he knew the scout had high principles and was second in command so the chances of him not reporting his messed up nappy were nil.

to be continued

Re: Joe’s Story Part 1-4

:slight_smile: another great part Les Lea can’t wait 4 next part Kevin? 8)

Re: Joe’s Story Part 1-4

Hi ab1td

Many thanks for your continued encouragement I really do appreciate your comments.

Does Joe’s predicament coincide with any of your own?


Re: Joe’s Story Part 1-4

  1. Yes it brings back old times? :angel:

Re: Joe’s Story Part 1-4

Were you a cub or a scout?

Re: Joe’s Story Part 1-4

:laugh: Both? ;D

Re: Joe’s Story Part 1-4

Now I am in awe. I never made it part being a-cub. Now I feel the scouts
Had so much more to offer. I hope you had a fab time as a scout.
Tell me some of your experiences.

Re: Joe’s Story Part 1-4

email me? :angel:

Re: Joe’s Story Part 1-5

Part 5

With Joe having been put into night time nappies by his mother before he came to Lake Cambria he’d somehow got into the habit of wetting whilst he slept. It was something he’d never done before his fear-induced accident on that first night after his spanking but once she’d taken this action of safeguarding her son, Joe’s bladder seemed to take it as permission to relax and soak the fabric wrapped around his groin. He hadn’t realised the horror stories his mother told of this sinful act would mentally trigger an unstoppable nightly flow. The warm surge was weirdly satisfying but the guilt he felt was more overpowering.

The second time it happened at home he thought his mother would go mad but she didn’t seem to care. The nappy had done what she meant it to and the plastic protection had saved him sleeping on a damp mattress, and besides, as far as Joe could see she seemed more interested in the ‘evils’ of another, more viscous, fluid.

Nevertheless, Joe hadn’t given too much thought as to why his mother was OK with his wet mornings. He presumed it was because she thought the punishment was working (with God working in one of his ‘mysterious ways’) and to a certain degree that was true because he became terrified of letting his hand slip under the covers.

He wasn’t aware that she had developed her own scheme and now, together with stopping his sinful ways, had an ulterior motive.

Once she’d taken the priest’s advice and made him wear a nappy to bed to help curtail his nightly obsession, she realised it was a possible way of gaining back control and making her son a little bit more dependent on her. Early to bed nights in the middle of summer, coupled with dire warnings should he even think about getting out of bed for any reason, was not only extra punishment but a real trial on the boy’s bladder. She had expected (hoped) he’d make a mess so that she could insist on more and more ‘security’.

She had control over her daughters; they did as she told them, respected and listened to her words of advice. Joe was like his father, an independent spirit and hated the fact she was all but losing any influence over her son. So, when he had a wet nappy, and she a hairbrush in her hand, he was as meek and cooperative and obeyed her commands. Once she saw how Joe cried and his attitude subdued whilst the priest had administered swift (and just) chastisement, she saw this as a possible way to make her plan work. Proper physical discipline, something she and her husband had never really indulged in, was now back on the agenda.

She was sure God would approve of her attempt to rehabilitate her wayward son.

She enjoyed the ritual of fitting him into his nappy; the anti-rash cream being rubbed in, the baby powder sprinkled liberally over his soon to be hidden penis, the pinning of the entire thing together followed by the final, babyish flourish, his leak-proof plastic pants – it was all so satisfying. It brought back such happy memories of her sweet little baby boy and her heart filled with love at the thought of a return to that time. She didn’t have this need to do the same with her daughters but her son being made to behave like a toddler, a return to innocence, well, he looked so sweet, so she was sure God would endorse everything she was doing.

Nevertheless, she realised that Joe himself might not like the idea, as he’d proved when he exploded and swore in front of the priest, he could and had rebelled. She was keen to make him understand that even out of his home environment she had the power to ensure he wore nappies. His mother knew that he was scared of the priest and hoped that would transfer to being totally acquiescent when faced with the inevitable. Father John’s firm and stern approach she was sure would hammer his current, nappy dependent, situation home.

When she’d packed his rucksack she wanted Joe totally reliant on the help of others. That’s why she only gave him nappies, plastic and rubber pants to wear. He would be embarrassed but he’d have to accept help from others for him to function properly within the camp. She also liked the fact that he’d be sleeping in the same type of items he slept in at home (like when he was a toddler) and that involved a great deal of thick protection.

She wanted him to become used to wearing such protection and regard it as normal dress. Father John had told her that all the boys would be treated the same as they had chores and challenges they had to accomplish each day and that Joe wearing a nappy wouldn’t make any difference so be expected to fulfil the same effort as any other member of the team.

What she hoped for was the return of her toddler son, who would, even at eleven years-old, need his mummy. A son who loved her, depended on her to change his wet nappy and comfort him when he was scared, like he used to when he was a baby. Her expectations were high that Joe’s wearing of thick protection would somehow drive him back to her bosom. Her zest for getting back with the church was equalled by her desire to take Joe back to his baby status and to bring him up in the faith. So, whilst he was away at camp she was busy organising his room to welcome her little fellow back.

The priest didn’t know of this side of her plan, he was only interested in saving Joey’s soul, hopefully by bringing him nearer to the church by making him appreciate that church was fun and should be embraced. Mrs Griffiths knew the Father was strict and wouldn’t take any nonsense from her son so happily allowed him to go camping on the firm understanding that his protection stood for the entire time he was away.

She knew she could rely on the strict priest to fulfil this because he’d explained there were other boys who were a little incontinent and needed ‘special attention’ so he would be treated exactly the same. Mrs Griffiths wanted an assurance that her rules for her son would be kept as both a reminder of his sinful ways and as punishment for his bad manners and swearing. The priest had agreed and geared his bible classes to incorporate the evils of such a sin.

Joe was completely distraught over the discovery. Tears filled his eyes as he couldn’t explain how his body could do that to him but, the slimy nappy didn’t tell lies.

“OK Joey, it’s OK, calm down, just calm down.” Terry tried to placate the tearful cub.

Checking to make sure the room was now empty he confided in Joey.

“Look, I know these things happen and we have no control over them… so don’t worry, I’m not going to tell the Father but you need to be careful.”

Joe’s sobbing began to abate as he realised that Terry was on his side.

“I know this can happen but Father John could inspect at any time so you need to take more precautions, especially overnight. Also, he probably would not take too kindly knowing Todd slept with you… it probably didn’t help”

“But, but, Todd climbed in with me during the night,” he was almost whining, “I didn’t ask him, he just…”

“I know he wasn’t with you when we all came to bed last night but still… the Father…” He left the inference unsaid.

“But it was him who told me to look after Todd,” Joe argued. “What was I supposed to do, kick him out, let him cry himself to sleep?”

Joe was getting annoyed at his predicament but was stupidly taking it out on Terry who was on his side.

“Sorry Terry,” he said as he realised his voice was getting higher and was becoming more than a little agitated.

It probably didn’t help that his plastic pants were around his ankles and his unpinned soggy nappy he was clutching was hanging down between his legs.

“Look, don’t worry. I’m sure we can sort something out but right now, you need to get to the shower block and do whatever you have to do before…” The eighteen year-old pointed to the drooping nappy.

Joe let the nappy fall to the floor, wrapped a towel around his hips and set off to the shower block. Picking up his toiletries Terry followed him and saw that they had less than ten minutes to complete their washroom needs; toilet, shower, dry off and get back to BLUE cabin before it was the RED’s scheduled turn.

Five naked pre-teen boys were trying desperately to enjoy the lukewarm shower but were shivering in the fresh morning air. Terry made sure they had all visited the toilets and done their business, he didn’t really want to be changing nappies or pull-ups all day if he could avoid it. They had done their duty and were drying off as the REDs arrived. Terry led the BLUEs, with towels wrapped around their waists or covering their heads, back to the cabin and made sure each was dry before getting them ready for the day ahead.

“Right boys,” Terry addressed them all. “Once we are decent we’re on breakfast duty so… let’s get started.”

Bobby had the nearest bed and was putting on a pair of pull-ups, but Terry stopped him and insisted he rub cream in first, then powder, then the pull-ups. Even though Bobby must have done this a thousand times, so eager was he to get started, he was cutting corners - though not on Terry’s watch. Each boy was made to use the correct creams and powder. Benny and Graham had changed to wearing colourful briefs as they hoped they could manage during the day, it was only at night (and on long journeys) when they needed ‘help’ so it was just Tommy, Todd and Joe who required the complete works.

With his usual proficiency he had the cub and Beaver quickly installed in their daytime protection. Tommy’s plastic pants were see-thru and you could see his disposable with the cute animal print underneath. Todd said how fantastic he thought they looked before he was installed in his plain white disposable. However, he had equally cute cartoon plastic pants slipped over it so they both looked like sweet toddlers. All the cubs put on their uniform and waited patiently for Joey to be finished.

Terry told Joey that he had special ‘dressing’ instructions that involved a thick soaker pad. The problem with this was it filled out his fabric nappy so much more than the disposables the other boys were wearing. However, this is what Joe’s mother had decreed, so that was what had to happen. The look on his face told the newest cub that he was really sorry to have to do it to him but… orders being orders!

As the scout wasn’t going to tell the priest about his nocturnal emissions Joe thought it best not to argue. The immense bunch of fabric splayed out his legs a bit and the plastic pants crinkled as the final garment, his shorts were added. His genitals felt like they were gripped and protected by a piece of unyielding armour, though surprisingly it didn’t feel uncomfortable. Each boy was now ready in their cub uniforms and it wasn’t long before the scout was in his pristine uniform and leading them to the canteen area where they were to help the cooks who were already busy preparing the day’s meals.

The main cooking was done by three young volunteer chefs, again people who owed much to the priest and were keen to help out in any way they could to show their gratitude. The boys helped set the tables, wash things up, fetched and carried for the volunteers and took the food out to where the rest of the pack were waiting to be served. Joey was constantly aware of his tight padding and hoped that no one else could tell.

Unfortunately, this wasn’t to be the case as his shorts rode up over the sleek cover and displayed his protection, not only that but there was a slight crinkly noise with every step. To the pack’s credit, no one made a big deal out of it although there was a little bit of pointing and the occasional snigger. In the end he gave up trying to pull at his shorts to hide his discomfort and just put up with the shiny plastic being visible for anyone who wanted to take notice.

Again Father John said grace and the noise rose as cereal and toast were eaten, pots of marmalade and jam crashed together, plates banged and clattered, drinks were slurped and the boys excitedly chatted about the coming days proceedings. After breakfast, and after the BLUE team had performed their morning task, there was a compulsory Bible class for an hour before anything else. Joe sat grumpily next to Todd but all the other boys seemed to be very attentive to the priest’s words.

Joe didn’t want to be impressed but the tone the Father used and responses he got back, together with the sheer enjoyment the boys seemed to get from his words, was pretty moving. At the end, they all said a communal prayer and Father John asked them all to include Todd’s mother who was sick in their individual prayers. He didn’t go in to any detail but all the boys turned their attention towards the little Beaver and nodded that they would. Joe was quite taken with this show of support and felt rather guilty at his lack of respect for the priest’s concern.

After this the entire pack were asked to give the Cubs oath and as one, they stood up, raised the middle fingers on their right hand and recited their pledge.

I promise that I will do my best
To do my duty to God and to Country
To help other people
And to keep the Cub Scout Law

This was followed by the cubs promise.

Cubs Scouts always do their best,
Think of others before themselves
And do a good turn every day.

Even though they didn’t know the pledge, both Todd and Joe felt a strange shiver run through their bodies as the cubs finished their response.

Before anything else was arranged Terry took Joe to the laundry room and gave him instructions on how it all worked. The machine had several heat and timer dials and these were explained how they were to be used depending on how soiled the wash was. His previous day’s nappy, shorts and t-shirt were still waiting for his attention and, together with last night’s soiled nappy, and one or two other contributions, there was quite a pile to be cleaned. Terry set the timer and added the washing liquid and told Joey that from now on, he was responsible every morning to see to the wash. Once the machine was underway he was informed that he should return in twenty minutes to hang them out to dry in the sun before he’d be allowed to take part in any of the planned events.

There was a half hour gap between Bible class and the start of the day’s itinerary so Joe would have to work quickly if he didn’t want to miss out on anything. Also, Terry informed him, if anything wasn’t done on time, or to Father John’s satisfaction, he’d not be allowed to join the others. He was on a very tight timetable but, the scout informed him with a knowing grin, one that would get easier once he got into a daily rhythm.

With barely a minute to spare, Joe had bright and clean nappies, shorts, plastic pants, t-shirts, towels and assorted other bits and pieces pegged out and flapping in the morning breeze. He’d managed to complete his task and was feeling pretty pleased with himself and that was despite knowing the huge squares of terry towelling hanging from the line were for his benefit and available for all to see.

Unfortunately, the zip on his own shorts had broken completely in the wash and they were now useless to him. At first he was pretty distressed at having nothing of his own to wear but then remembered that they were pretty revealing themselves so no great loss. He looked down at the obvious bulge and shrugged because of the inevitability that it he’d be wearing green cub shorts for the next two weeks.

Once the morning duties were out of the way the entire pack went off on a scavenger hunt in the surrounding forest led by Drew and Terry. Malcolm and Andy were left to help organise lunch with the volunteers and get a few other things ready for the afternoon’s events, which was to include a fun swimming gala.

The excitement and passion of all the cubs for sheer pleasure was very infectious. Joe found himself involved in games and silly conversations that he thought he’d left behind in his ‘childhood’. Along with the rest of the green-clad pack he screamed and yelled with as much vigour as any of the other cubs and there was no denying, he fit in incredibly well despite his initial reluctance to do so.

Occasionally, a scout would take a little group off who had a particular interest in certain topics; understanding and helping nature, problem solving, camping activities – the list of how you could qualify for a badge appeared endless, and to Joe, all equally bizarre. What he wasn’t aware of was that as he’d effortlessly immersed himself into the pack’s way of operating, he was also gaining credit for what he did and whether he was bothered or not, he would be gaining awards by the end of his stay.

After lunch, bereft of his nappy and wearing his more acceptable Speedos, he helped organise the swimming tournament and came up with various suggestions for those of different abilities. Strong swimmers were encouraged to teach those who were perhaps a little water shy, and those who were really scared of swimming, he came up with a game of splashing that threatened no one but gave confidence in the water.

He was in his element.

Because of the long hot afternoon and with everyone playing at the water’s edge, it wasn’t only a relief from the heat but, thanks to the amazing location, also something that quite a few of the boys would remember for the rest of their lives. Even Todd, wearing his padded swimmers, learned a few basic strokes and how to float without panicking; he was one happy little Beaver.

Joe was very pleased to be out of his nappy and, strange as may seem, very grateful to Father John for allowing it. The Gala, as it became known, was a huge success and with the scouts and Joe continually coming up with new games and challenges, it became a regular event most afternoons. However, as the priest had insisted, once they were done and showered, for Joe it was back into his nappy until he was next allowed to swim.

He loved being in his Speedos and spending hours splashing, swimming and diving with the others and, perhaps strange to say, he didn’t object to being put back into his protection once it came to an end. In fact, the fluffy dry bulk felt really good against his skin, whilst the thick tight rubber pants gave him a feeling of immense security… although he wasn’t going to admit that to anyone if he could help it.

In just a couple of days everything had changed for Joe.

His reluctance in wanting to be involved disappeared. Although he knew the uncompromising man was in there somewhere, he hadn’t seen that side of Father John since they’d been at Lake Cambria. He was thoughtful, helpful and positive, whilst the rest of the cubs seemed to adore him. As a result his distrust for the priest evaporated as he saw him as less of an enemy.

His opinion of the other cubs and scouts changed from contempt to respect. He no longer worried about his nappy, and quite enjoyed the tender fuss that Terry gave to the operation (as he did to everyone who needed it), which had helped enormously with him coming to terms with his situation. The initial embarrassment faded simply because, after the first couple of times, as the scout didn’t make it awkward, there was no reason to feel apprehensive.

Two weeks earlier, when his mother had first made him wear protection to sleep in he’d discovered dropping off a problem. For the first few nights he found it so restricting, uncomfortable and not in the least restful. Eventually, like most things, he’d gotten used to it and didn’t even think about the thickness between his legs or his wet mornings. He could think of worse punishments, his mum’s hairbrush for one, so he put up with the way things were.

Now he’d even got used to the crinkle every time he moved in bed, to his surprise found sleeping in his night-time protection no problem. This could be due to the fact that he was no longer anxious, or maybe, he was just simply too exhausted at the end of each extremely active day to worry about it.

However, he was a growing lad with an escalating sexuality and his body was telling him certain things. Alas, the mass between his legs and the glossy mound he furtively stroked every night was making him feel more excited than normal. Unfortunately, the firmness of the fit, together with having his roommates around, drove him mad and made it difficult to do anything about. Also, the constant feeling that God was watching and disapproving of even touching himself didn’t help. On a positive note he was confident that under this difficult regime he could continue with his enforced abstinence and do as his mother demanded. Usually the last thing he remembered before he fell asleep were his fingers tracing the slippery outline of the thick nappy under his shiny plastic pants.

It was really quite amazing just how quickly Joey slipped into the role of ‘new cub’. The camp was constantly alive with fantastic things to do – games, challenges, sport, nature walks, the lake, etc.; in fact, it was difficult to keep up with it all.

Being slightly older than the other cubs, and one who wore a thick nappy, made sure he was noticed, though it didn’t inhibit him in any way. He did his washing chores with no complaints and on time (he definitely didn’t want to be stopped from joining in now), the large terry towelling squares and rubber pants wafting in the morning breeze now just taken as normal.

Dressed in his uniform he was one of the pack and if it hadn’t been for his bulging protection, he’d look no different from any of the other boys. Occasionally Joe would become aware and look down at the soft but obvious lump in his shorts and sigh, because he thought it made him look more like a toddler and less of a boy. But then again that thought only lasted a moment before he was dragged back into another of the many excellent camp activities.

Morning inspection meant that most of the ‘wetters’ had wet during the night. Joe was no exception; both he and Todd seemed to provide a flood for their nappies, whilst the others found the strange surroundings at night challenging. Whether it was a reluctance to get up out of their warm cots and walk the few feet to the toilet or they were scared of the dark was hard to say, whatever the reason, plastic pants, damp pull-ups and nappies were the first thing to greet the boys in BLUE.

Terry kept the cabin ticking over nicely. The morning assembly of his team to have their protection checked was always done in the most amenable way. At this point decisions were made if more protection was needed the following night or not. No one was made to feel they’d done anything wrong, or that they should be embarrassed and often, once their PJs had been removed, the selection of colourful plastic pants was another sight to behold. However, the downside to this was it meant these vivid objects had to be added to Joe’s morning laundry. Thankfully, with the rest of the BLUEs wearing disposables and pull-ups his daily wash wasn’t as bad as it could have been.

Once the morning ablutions were over, Terry was methodical in getting his team powdered and ready for the events ahead. The smell of lotions, creams and powder pervaded the cabin but so did the smell of urine. Thankfully, ever organised Terry had made sure that the cabin got a good airing every day and that there was a plug-in air-freshener to hide whatever other odours remained. Terry looked after his boys and they were very grateful for his encouragement, attention and understanding.

Unexpectedly, Joe began to love the fact that he could go for a pee right where he stood and enjoy the warm glow around his groin as he did so. It wasn’t something he would have chosen to do but, as he had to wear his nappy he thought he’d damn well use it for its purpose. He wasn’t keen on shitting in it though, so he made sure that during his morning routine at the shower block he did what he had to do there.

There was only Todd who messed himself and that was on the third night when he’d had a particularly nasty dream. Both Terry and Joe had heard him whimper and cry out in the night so both were quickly by his side. Todd was crying in terror about some un-named scary monster and embarrassment at having messed; the smell adding to the Beaver’s distress. Joe helped his young friend from his cot and calmed him down. They were lucky that the rest of the sleeping cubs had not been disturbed; only the occasion crinkle from a suitably protected cot could be heard over Todd’s sad whimpers.

He let Joe strip him out of his yellow PJs and, in the half light of the lantern that Terry held, slowly peeled down his plastic pants to reveal the soiled and soggy nappy.

“Do you want me to see to him?” Terry asked knowing that some people would run a mile rather than do what Joey was about to do.

“No, thank you Terry, Todd’s my responsibility… I’ll see to him.” Joey said with concern for his fretful little friend.

The scout nodded his approval and let Joey get on with it.

Todd was too embarrassed to speak but at least his whimpering had begun to ease. Once Joey had released the tapes he inched down the disposable and made sure he didn’t get any of the mess on anything else. The nappy and plastic pants had contained it all pretty well but with more than a little trepidation he wiped up as much as he could before pulling the offending object away.

Terry offered more wipes and together did what they could to clean him up though Joey decided Todd needed to be much cleaner so took him to the small washroom at the rear of the cabin. Once sponged clean, well powdered and returned to a dry disposable the youngster quickly settled down.

The small teddy bear Joe’s mother had packed in the hope of releasing some babyish memories in her son was slipped into Todd’s bed so he wouldn’t be afraid or alone at night. The young lad was so pleased to receive such a gift he wasn’t in the least bit embarrassed to kiss Joey with thanks and hug the bear tightly. Terry thought the teddy had been a good solution and then helped settle the youngest member of the team with soothing words and soft reassurance.

to be continued

Re: Joe’s Story Part 1-6 final chapter

Part 6

Father John was very happy with the way his senior scout dealt with the BLUE team and suitably impressed by the way Joey had, despite their original differences, got involved. In fact, the ‘problem’ boy was proving to be quite an asset and had appeared to immerse himself in what the cub scouts ethos was all about. The priest had been able to find a few other second hand items in the lost property box that, once washed, kept Joey suitably attired, although his awkward protection was still enforced.

However, after only a few days an unexpected element happened in BLUE cabin when each boy who had changed to wearing briefs during the day began to want their protection back. Not that they needed it, they just wanted to be the same as Joey and he wore his all the time. This act of support didn’t go unnoticed by Terry and the team became even closer as a result. In fact, both Bobby and Graham offered to help Joey with his washing chores and eventually, between them, they all mucked in helping him with this particular duty. Ever the initiator Joey made the laundry room activities into a game as well. Pegging out their colourful plastic pants, shorts, shirts, towels in the colours of a rainbow, or all shades from the palest to the deepest… it became a fun project to play.

Joey didn’t seem to be that aware of the effect he was having on the rest of the pack.

Although the scouts were definitely the leaders, his sense of fun, initiative and adventure often meant that some of the cubs would wait to see what Joey was doing before volunteering for any activity, they wanted to be with him. From only a few days before when he would have killed not to be part of this boyish camp he’d become an innovator and eager member of the pack.

Perhaps it was going to come as a cruel surprise to his mother that the hoped for return of her baby was going to be usurped by a more confident and highly regarded young man.

The priest thought he was doing Mrs Griffith’s bidding, getting Joey involved but keeping him in his punishment. After all, that was what started all this, the boy’s inability to stop pleasuring himself and, as far as the Father, and the reports from his second-in-command were concerned, this side of the project appeared to be a success. Whether he could get Joey to embrace Jesus and the church remained to be seen but, and this was the interesting part, the new cub sat and listened attentively in bible class now.

Every day blended far too quickly into the next with all the organised games, fun hikes up into the forest identifying shrubs and animals - it was nonstop adventure. Afternoons were a mixture of water sport, swimming and trips on the lake. The weather had been fantastic and the camaraderie around the camp fire at night had bonded all the boys into a very tight-knit pack of cubs. Laughter never seemed to cease from everyone, even the priest and it was the happiest time Joe could ever remember having. He felt guilty that he was enjoying this more than any of the camping trips with his dad but the truth was; he was. Only once, about a week in was there any major upset and that was when little Todd had awoken from another nightmare calling for his mommy.

It had been strange because at the time BLUE were all asleep and Joe himself was having a very pleasant, if peculiar, dream.

He was with four of his mates but instead of skateboarding or playing soccer in the park, they were rolling down hills, chasing bubbles and flying a kite, not the type of thing any eleven year-old would normally engage in. However, they were the age they were now but dressed as little kids; nappies obvious under their cartoon little stretchy shorts or onesies. This wasn’t bothering them at all as they charged around before being called by Amy Wright, who, together with three friends, had made a special picnic. The girls were also their real age but equally dressed as party-going toddlers, with floral party frocks and heavy protection clearly visible when they sat down. None of this appeared to be out of the ordinary for any of the kids as they happily sat in a circle to begin their meal.

In the distance they heard a cry of “Mommy”, which Joe thought was his friend Richard calling to someone but, he could see a sandwich tucked into his mouth so it couldn’t have been him. The party was going well and they were all enjoying what Amy had organised when they heard it again.


Only this time there seemed to be a scared and urgent edge to the word.

Despite not wanting to leave the party, he was enjoying himself so much, Joe galvanized himself but in so doing realised he’d wet his nappy and at that same moment woke up from this pleasurable, if perplexing, dream.

He found Todd crying for his mommy in a very distressed state. Even though he was soaked himself his first thought was to comfort his little buddy and reached him moments before Terry and the rest of the group, woken by the boy’s frightened scream, came to help the troubled little Beaver.

He was crying inconsolably for his mommy and in between gulping in air tried to tell Joey that he couldn’t find her. He was sure something terrible had happened and it terrified him that he was calling and she wasn’t responding. The poor little fellow was in a terrible state and it took Joey some considerable time and effort in helping to calm him down. Words of reassurance came from every one and only the promise from Terry that in the morning they’d phone home so he could speak to his daddy helped settle him.

Once he was a lot less agitated and the other boys had returned to their crinkly cots did Joey take Todd to the bathroom to clean him up. The poor boy had made a terrible mess but hadn’t been aware of it. Although Joey guessed what was wrong, and despite his own wet discomfort, he set about making it more agreeable for his little friend. It was remarkable the complete trust that Todd had for Joey. Even though he’d been terrified he trusted his friend to make things better.

He put up no resistance as his ‘big brother’ spoke to him all the way through the process of being appeased and changed. Once he was clean and tidy and wrapped in a fresh disposable with new plastic pants he returned him to his bed which Terry had cleaned up and prepared for him. His PJs were soaked and his spare pair was already in the wash so he ended up looking a smaller version of Joey. And like his, the little tyke’s protection hung low though it didn’t worry him as he clung to best friend as if his life depended on it. He didn’t want to get into his own bed; even with his teddy, he was scared of having another dream.

“OK Todd,” Joe was crouching down beside him, “you need to go to sleep…”

“But I’m scared.” There was no doubt that tears were not far away and the sulky uncertainty in his voice made the six year-old sound like he was two.

Joe looked up at Terry for any guidance so the understanding scout wondered if he slept with Joey… would he feel safer?

A slight nod from the worried looking boy made the decision and, as the two friends clambered noisily back into their crinkly bed, their padded protection separating them, they huddled together for comfort and support. Todd, who must have been exhausted, fell asleep quickly, whilst Joey didn’t because he was still in a little discomfort from the soaked nappy as a result of his own wet dream. Despite the priest telling him he had to change quickly out of his wet fabric nappy, Joe was determined not to wake his friend again and eventually, the small warm body he hugged helped him to drop off despite the growing irritation he felt next to his skin.

Early in the morning Todd went to see the priest who’d put in a call to his parents. Meanwhile, Terry inspected Joey and saw the start of a severe nappy rash, which he was keen to put an urgent stop to. Joey had to confess that he’d slept in a soaked nappy because of the event the night before but didn’t think the repercussions would be so serious or itchy. Terry was most concerned and decided that he needed extra creams and lotions applied before any nappy and pads should be utilized. In fact, he decided off his own bat that perhaps it was the fabric nappy that was causing much of the problem and that he’d try him in a disposable to see if that made things healthier.

So, after applying some very cool cream to the inflamed area, which Joey found slightly embarrassing and at the same time very soothing, he fitted him in to one of the other boy’s disposables. It was one with the animal prints on and although looked quite childish, Joe had to admit that it was a relief not to scratch, whilst the texture was also unbelievably soft and comfy next to his skin. He liked these disposables and was not surprised that the cubs who wore them wanted to sleep in them, they felt wonderful.

They weren’t as extreme as the one he normally wore and even with his thick rubber pants in place; it didn’t bulge out half as much as usual. The sweet animal print couldn’t be seen behind the glossy protection but Joey was rather pleased to be sporting such a top-of-the-range and comfy brand. He was very grateful to the senior scout and thanked him profusely for his concern, and for breaking his strict ‘nappy regime’.

A smiling Todd arrived at the breakfast table telling everyone that his mommy was OK and that her operation had been a success. She was still in hospital but would be back home by the time the camp ended in a week’s time. The news seemed to boost the little guy’s appetite and he wolfed down his breakfast like he hadn’t eaten for a month.

Since arriving at the camp Father John had been nothing short of a pillar of good humour and understanding. Joe, nor any of the others, saw that dreaded angry side of the man that he’d been so fearful of and he actually began to quite like him. The priest was always around if anyone needed to talk (confess) and appeared to be having as much fun as everyone else – this was not what Joe had been expecting and been anxious about on the journey to the Lakes.

The hike around Lake Cambria planned after breakfast was a new experience for Joe. Routinely, the thick protection would chaff his legs and give him a bit of an unintentional waddle, but now, with the new, lighter, and he had to admit, far comfier disposable, there was a great deal of relief as well as room in his shorts that he really appreciated - it was almost like he was back wearing briefs.

Terry explained the circumstances to Father John as to why he’d changed Joey’s ‘dress code’ and although the priest agreed that with the nappy rash it was a wise move, he was uneasy that Mrs Griffith’s rules were not being completely adhered to. However, he noticed the freedom that lit up Joey’s face as he scuttled about in his disposable and thought that at least he was still well protected, so that should be enough.

The second week simply flew by.

Joe was now wearing disposables and rubber pants so the morning wash rarely involved his terry nappies though there was still a colourful collection of other items to be hung out. He didn’t miss the folds of thick fabric between his legs but actually liked its soft disposable replacement, so much so that often he simply forgot he was wearing them. Going to bed in them had been a wonderful experience. However, their softness and comfort turned him on even more than usual and it took a great deal of willpower not to succumb to his thoughts and self-gratification. His fingers slid effortlessly over the much smaller silky mound but now he could actually feel his throbbing dick underneath.

However, he’d made a promise to his mother and to Terry (who he didn’t want to get into trouble after all his understanding) so held back from actually doing the deed. A couple of morning however, Joe woke to find a slimy deposit in there with the soaked up pee, but there was no bad consequence from the scout at morning inspection – just a little shrug.

Joe had got on with Terry from the beginning and thought he was a great guy. The attention the scout gave to all the boys in BLUE had been superb and each cub appreciated the empathy and encouragement he offered. One night Joe had one of his many dreams although this time it included Terry.

They were both swimming in the lake but when they got out each was wearing thick protection; Joe’s was a glossy rubberised green, whilst the scout’s was a shiny khaki. Because it was so thick it was obvious what it was but neither appeared to be in the least bit embarrassed by what they wore. However, and Joe was surprised at this, they huddled together, just the two of them, by a roaring fire and rubbed against each other to help keep warm. There was a very strong bond which ended with a sweet kiss.

In the morning Joe’s disposable was in a particularly wet and slimy state and he was ashamed knowing what had caused such a reaction in his nappy. Terry just shook his head when he noticed but took his time wiping and cleaning up the new recruit before slipping him into a fresh disposable.

There was no doubt about it, Terry thought, Joe looked cute in a well fitting disposable.

The weather had been superb and everyone said what an incredible camp it had been.

The final night, was Talent Night, and each boy had to perform some kind of entertainment. Some of the cubs were very nervous about this so formed into little groups so they didn’t have to perform solo. The scouts opened and closed the show with some pretty talented guitar playing; whilst Drew played and sang a song he’d composed about Lake Cambria… it brought the ‘house’ down. There were a few of the boys who told jokes that they crowds giggled and shouted at them because they’d heard them all before but it was done with so much laughter that no one really minded.

Joey and Todd were the surprise hit of the show when they did a terrible double act. The idea was that Todd would be the dummy and Joey the ventriloquist but as it progressed, the dummy took over. They got the biggest reaction because they came on the make shift stage dressed only in huge nappies – the act was called Bedtime for Baby. The idea was that baby (Todd) wouldn’t go to bed unless his daddy (Joey) went to bed as well. There was a lot of ridiculous confusion and silly mixed messages, which was why daddy was in a nappy already, but the outcome was daddy got sent to bed whilst baby stayed up.

That was the sum total of the joke but because Todd kept forgetting his words and ad-libbing a line he’d just thought up, Joey had to think of a reply. It was a complete and utter shambles and made no sense except the audience laughed uproariously and shouted their approval at the final scene. The priest stood shaking his head but with a huge grin on his face, wondering what on earth it was all about.

The end of camp show was a huge success and the still excited boys made their way back to their cabins re-living and commenting on what had just taken place.

The following morning after breakfast and bible class, the boys stayed in the canteen area as Father John announced the awards. Every boy had attained at least one new badge for their mothers to sew onto their shirts and applause rang out as each cub also received a small prize of a pocket bible. Todd was happy, though couldn’t quite believe, he’d also achieved some badges but in his excitement had wet himself as he nervously waddled up to the priest to receive his reward. Of course no one would have known, thanks to Joey, Todd was always well protected, his Disney print plastic pants kept any possible dribbles at bay.

Joe was equally surprised to find that such had been his contribution to the camps success he had accomplished the right to wear over half a dozen badges. He was stunned when a cheer went up from all the other cubs when his name was announced and he was particularly shy about going up and receiving his awards. However, with Todd’s encouragement he eventually made his way to Father John, who, with a huge smile shook his hand and congratulated him in glowing terms. Even the scouts were all clapping wildly and it came as no surprise to the rest of the pack that it was BLUE who won the overall team prize – Scouting Annuals.

“I hope these books will help inspire you cub scouts,” the priest had calmed the applause so he could be heard, “and that you boys will want to continue your excellent work by eventually becoming scouts.”

There was more noise of agreement from the sea of young and eager faces spread out in front of him.

"You have all done so incredibly well and are a fantastic example of all that is best in today’s youth and more especially, what is good about the scouting… and cub scouting movement.

He spread his hands out to include everyone but looked particularly at Joey.

“You have all proved what God had wanted from his flock all along – to be friends, to help others and together achieve a great deal. All you cubs have been fantastic - God Bless You All”

The place erupted in wild applause and general cheering that even to the seasoned adults brought a gulp of emotion to their throats.

Back in BLUE cabin, as they packed up their belongings Todd shyly admitted to Joey that he’d had an accident.

“Number ones or number twos?”

Joey inquired with a look that said ‘typical’ of my little Beaver on his face.

Todd grinned, “Number ones… sorry… I was so excited at getting a badge… I… I…”

Joey smiled.

“Well I’m not surprised you have been pretty impressive for the entire camp,” Joey led his charge to the changing area and started to pull down the laughing Beaver’s shorts.

“I nearly wet as well,” he confided to his little friend in a whisper. “In fact, I probably need to change before the bus ride home myself.”

As his wet protection was replaced by wet wipes, powder and a clean disposable the little voice asked if he’d like him to do it.

“What,” Joey was smiling at the very thought, “you want to change me?”

He slipped up the special Disney plastic pants and patted the entire padded area as an indication that he was finished.

“Maybe I’d get another badge?” Todd wondered.

“Well, maybe but for the moment let’s just get your things packed as we don’t want to keep anyone waiting and besides… we’ve got to get you home to your mommy and daddy.”

With the thought now planted in Todd’s brain he quickly set about loading his stuff in the case he’d brought. Meanwhile, Terry was checking that all the boys were wearing enough protection for the return trip and finally settled with Joey.

“Well Joey,” he looked proudly down at the boy who didn’t want to be involved, “you certainly have made many friends here… I hope you won’t forget us all as soon as you get home.”

Embarrassed by the attention he just shrugged uncomfortably and got on with the little packing he had to do. The priest had already told him to keep the clothes and they now found their way into his baggage. He piled the washed and dried terry squares on top of everything but then realised he needed to be changed for the trip.

“I think I’ll need my protection for the trip back… I… erm…” He offered a folded nappy to Terry.

“OK, I overheard you say to Todd that you’re wet,” he raised his eyebrow in question, “so do you want to wear what your mother says or a disposable?”

The recent time he’d spent in a disposable had been fantastic as, after the bulk of the fabric nappy, he’d hardly realised he had it on, that was until he wet. Despite the wet mornings he’d found that, thanks to Terry’s ministrations, the nappy rash had soon cleared up. There was no doubt about it he was going to make one hell of a carer.

However, Joe realised he’d better return as he was sent or his mother might keep him in a nappy out of anger if she thought he’d disobeyed her instructions. For the first time in two weeks the thought of his mother wielding a hairbrush and receiving a severe spanking made him shiver in trepidation. Now he knew that she wouldn’t hesitate in using such severe discipline he decided that crossing his mother would be a big mistake, no matter how grown up he felt, especially as he believed his father had sanctioned such action.

For the final time Terry oiled, powdered and fitted Joey into his thick protection. As he pulled up the now much used glossy plastic pants he patted the padding to let him know he’d finished. As Joey got to his feet Terry affectionately stroked his bulging and well cushioned bottom.

“You really have dealt with everything incredibly well,” he said approvingly, “I hope we might see you join the scouts? Maybe?” He added hopefully.

Joey smiled nervously and shrugged, “Maybe.”

He pulled up his green shorts and again the bulge was so noticeable but he thought he had no option if he was to stay on his mother’s good side, although he hoped, by the time he got home his punishment would be over. It was a long journey home and he didn’t know if he’d last the distance so at least felt safe wrapped in all his protection. Now everyone on the bus knew about it there was no point in pretending or being anxious about it so the trip back was a damn sight more fun than going had been.

Joe had had a brilliant time, all the cubs, scouts and Todd all were buzzing and reliving their exploits as Father John drove them back to base.

It was always sad when an exciting and wonderful adventure comes to an end but Joey hadn’t thought that way when he’d set off but he sure was glad his mother had sent him after all, although he had no idea what her attitude would be like once he was home.

The bus pulled up outside Joe’s home and he got out amid a tremendous amount of noise from the cubs wishing him well. In many ways he was sad to leave them as he’d got to know and like them all pretty well. Terry handed him his backpack and the two shook hands. Father John had already said his goodbyes on the bus and said that he hoped to see him again soon, although he didn’t put any pressure on Joe to make a date for that occurrence, for which he was grateful.

Syed was out in the street when the bus arrived back and was quite astounded to see his mate Joe, wearing an obvious thick nappy, a cub uniform, laughing and mixing with such little kids. He even saw him ruffle the hair of a small boy and give him a hug before he walked down his path, the youngster seemed to be crying that Joe was leaving him.

He wasn’t sure if he should wave or even acknowledge the return of his best friend but Syed shouted that he’d pop round later, although he didn’t know if he’d been heard over all the screams and ‘Goodbyes’ from the bus. Also he saw that Joe’s mother had greeted him on the pathway with a huge hug as she also patted his well-padded bottom.

The affection with which he responded to his mother was interpreted by her as confirmation that he sweet baby boy was back, she had missed him and couldn’t wait to start looking after him again. His room was ready – gone were the poster of his sporting heroes, the sports car he and his dad had coveted and his many sporting trophies. His bedding had been changed; softer fluffier sheets and blanket with a duvet cover that gave it all a more juvenile look. She’d painted the walls a soft pastel shade of blue, with cute complementary pictures of animals scattered around the walls. She’d arranged all his old stuffed toys to occupy his bed and shelf space and a whole new wardrobe of childish sleepwear to help him drop off with the new early nights she’d planned for him. All his clothes had been sorted and his drawers were now full of appropriate clothing for a large toddler - nappies, disposable and rubber pants were now in the place of his boxers and briefs.

The final thing was the hairbrush which she had hung behind the door so that Joe would see it last thing at night and first thing in the morning as a reminder of who was in charge. His mother couldn’t have been more excited about the future as she embraced her son and couldn’t wait to continue with her, and of course God’s, good work in reclaiming her son.

Some other news that greeted Joe was that his father was not now going to be around for some time as his company needed his services overseas, so it would be several months before he could return.

Joe’s camping adventure may have been over but his mother was intent on taking him on a different journey and one he probably wasn’t going to like quite as much.

Just how far he was willing to go on that journey, well, that remained to be seen.


1 Like

Re: Joe’s Story Part 1-6 final chapter

:angel: What a great story please lets us know if he go’s to Scouts or stays with the Cubs and does he meet up with any other Blue team from camp or has sleep overs or stay at other Cubs homes Kevin. :stuck_out_tongue:

Re: Joe’s Story Part 1-6 final chapter

Hi Kevin
So pleased you liked the story, I was going to end it there but you have given more a bit of impetus to continue so perhaps I’ll get a few ideas together and post a bit more in the not too distant future. :wink:
However, once again I have to thank you for your comments and tell you how much I appreciate them.
All the ebst fellow cub scout :slight_smile:

Re: Joe’s Story Part 1-6 final chapter

Please keep going !! Now I want to see father John save Joey for the impending babying from his mother !!

Re: Joe’s Story Part 1-6 final chapter

Hi Pierrylouys

It’s as if you could read my mind :wink: