My 18th Birthday 1-8 end

My 18th Birthday

[i]“Stoopid, stoopid, stoooooopid,” I was so angry with myself for letting it happen. I was rapping my knuckles on my forehead, shouting and scowling at myself because I just couldn’t believe how stupid I’d been.

I know I’m not the brightest person in the world but I should have caught on sooner and I wouldn’t be in the mess, literally, that I was now sitting in with my thick diaper stuck to my body. I disliked immensely the way the poop stuck to everything and made me feel both dirty and queasy. It didn’t help that I was being chastised for being “A dirty little baby” and made to feel that was all that I would ever achieve.

Banging my head wasn’t helping as it hurt. I sat shaking in my pile of poo unable to do much else and began, as I so often did these past few days, to cry. No doubt I looked the picture of abject misery but, this is what the people had wanted and they were getting it from my current pathetic display.[/i]

My name is Benjamin or Ben, never Benjy as I’ve always thought that sounded so childish. My parents are both quite high achievers in their respective fields; mom being an art historian and dad being a Biotech company CEO. My older sister, Gwyneth had her first book published when she was sixteen, her second did quite well and her third, Smart Moves, had recently been optioned for a movie.

I on the other hand am basically just that, basic. I have no conspicuous talent. I cannot play sports very well (although I’m always game for a … game) and my academic achievements had me constantly in the bottom half-dozen or so. It wasn’t that I didn’t try, Hell; I never stopped trying as I had a great deal to live up to but I just wasn’t clever enough. Simply put, compared to the rest of my family I am DUMB, not gifted in anyway but, on the plus side, I would try anything if I could.

Whereas the rest of my family have terrific jobs I’m stacking produce at our local superstore. It’s boring and doesn’t pay well; a group of Mexicans, East Europeans and me all work for minimum pay just so we have a job to our name. It probably is about the only thing I can do without mucking up but I’d like something better. But hey, look around you – do you see loads of bosses desperate to give high paying jobs away to the likes of me? You get what you’re given and like it or at least don’t complain about it.

I’ve heard being described by my parents as ‘over-emotional’ (although it’s always said as a whisper and as if I wasn’t even in the room). Obviously it is a somewhat dismissive term but I’m not sure I know why being ‘over-emotional’ is a bad thing. OK, I admit that I can cry at seeing kittens and puppies playing (in fact any baby creatures immediately win my heart) but it’s out of joy. I know I’ve been known to cry at some awful news story where people have been hurt or killed and I also seem to identify with the images of the starving across the world and yes, I am emotional and get upset about any form of violence. I watch very little TV for a guy my age because I find it too violent and the same with computer games. My friends, those few I have, think I’m weird and a bit of a ‘softie’ (although I’m sure they say much worse).

OK. So I’m still living at home with Mom and Dad, when they are here, otherwise I’m shipped off to my clever author sister while they are away on business, vacation or whatever as they don’t trust me not to wreck or set fire to the house if I’m left to my own devices. Chance would be a fine thing.

It was approaching my 18th Birthday and I was looking forward to some kind of celebration as all my other (few) friends had huge parties when they had reached this magical age. Alas, both my parents would be away on business for a month and my sister wasn’t interested in giving me a party. I suggested we go out for a meal, or something, but she’d just had some bad news herself and was in no mood for any kind of celebration.

Gwyneth had just found out that her boyfriend of three years had just sired a baby with another girl, whilst my sister had just lost her own. Her house was no place for merriment and I was happy to spend as much time as I could stacking shelves and collecting trolleys just so I wasn’t around her too much.

However, one late night I saw her looking through an album of old photographs. She was smiling at a page that had some rather cute pictures of me. The one she was particularly happy about was of me, I must have been barely one year-old, sleeping and cuddling my teddy bear (Teddy), whilst wearing only a particularly thick and well pinned diaper. My blue pacifier seemed to half cover my face but I looked so happy and contented hugging Teddy so tightly. According to Gwyneth, I was always a happy, chirpy little baby, always smiling and rocking in my diaper or crawling around on some expedition that ended with me back where I started.

Eventually, as we settled together on the sofa she asked, with an air of sadness, regret and nostalgia, what it was that I missed most about my childhood. I shrugged and looked at the album, the page still open at me and my teddy bear.

“That.” I said emphatically. “I miss having something to cuddle.”

When I was five years-old my parents, no doubt thinking it was for my own good (or something they had read somewhere) decided to get rid of all my childish notions by throwing out all my baby toys and mementoes. Teddy went with the rest of the stuff to the goodwill store and I never saw him again. I was devastated and I know for weeks after I’d wake up wet both from crying so much and peeing the bed. The last thing they wanted to do was put me back in diapers (it was against the very concept of my growing up) but mom would only put up with wet sheets for a couple of days before she insisted I wear disposables on a night. Oddly enough, these became my comfort for the next few months until I was gradually weaned off my loss of Teddy and eventually back into pjs.

Gwyneth took another look at the photo I was still pointing at.

“You do look particularly sweet,” she said nodding at the photo and then half to herself, “perhaps I should get you something special for your birthday after all?”

Now I love my sister, in fact, I love everybody. I try not to be nasty to anyone and I go out of my way to be respectful to my seniors (Gwyneth is six years older than me) and try and do what I can to help if they are in difficulties or provide a cheerful word if they look like they might need one. I’m no Good Samaritan but I do help out at charity events and the church if they need any volunteers. At work, on their charity day, I was helping run the crèche, organise the free food and dress up as a clown to entertain the children. I got extra credit for all my efforts and was able to get an extra 5% off of anything I bought in the store that week. Alas, I had no money and there was nothing I wanted.

As my 18th birthday approached I noticed that Gwyneth’s mood improved, as if in some way my reaching this age had cheered her up. I was glad to see her a lot happier and we chatted long into the night about silly stuff and our family. She was telling me that at the moment she had a sort of ‘writer’s block’ (which after all she’d been through I could understand) and that she was glad she had her ‘little brother’ to keep her company through this trying time. I felt sorry for her having to go through all that but was pleased that I was there and in some way help. Perhaps my parents hadn’t been quite as selfish as I’d thought in not letting me stay at home on my own.

The guys at work had bought a celebratory cake for my birthday, which we wolfed down in our lunch break. I received a card signed by them all and also received a load of pats on the back and ‘well dones’ throughout the day. You’re probably wondering why I wasn’t out with my friends or girlfriend, well, I don’t have that many friends and most girls are only interested in a guy with a car and I didn’t fall into that particular category. When I got home the mailman had been but I got not so much as a card from mom and dad. I suppose they were too busy but you’d think… wouldn’t you? Thankfully, Gwyneth had remembered and not only got me a card but a present.

It was the biggest teddy bear I’d ever seen. It was slightly bigger than me and had this huge blue bow around its neck just like Teddy had. At first I thought ‘what a stupid gift’ but then I remembered our conversation from a few days previously and, ever thoughtful, she had actually bought me something she thought I’d love. As I stroked his soft fleecy bulk (yes I named him Teddy as I’m that imaginative), his glassy eyes and stitched on smile won me over and I couldn’t stop cuddling him… he was so soft and… wonderful. Gwyneth was delighted that I was happy and we sat and had a meal that she had specially prepared. She even offered me a glass of a rather nice chilled white wine, which for once didn’t taste of warm sour apples like I’d had in the past, although I really wasn’t much of a drinker.

After two rather large glasses I was quite giggly and Gwyneth was very entertaining. She took a few photographs on her phone of me and Teddy cuddling and kissing (yes I know but I’d had a couple of drinks) and she thought how delightful we both looked. Then she said she had an idea and wondered if I’d be up for a dare. I wasn’t sure where this was going but, with my inhibitions loosened by the wine, nodded and she suggested we recreate that image of me of when I was one year old.

I laughed out loud. She laughed along with me and then said that perhaps, we should ask Teddy?

“OK Teddy, you huge cuddlesome beast,” she giggled like she was a seven year-old, “should Benjy…”

Now I giggled like a toddler as I looked into Teddy’s eyes half expecting him to actually reply. His huge furry face and soft welcoming body oozed love and friendliness… this was a Teddy who would always be there for you… for me… and would never steer me wrong.
“… should Benjy accept the dare?” She nodded then looked at me who was watching her and then looked back at Teddy.

Suddenly she leapt up and gave a little shout “There,” she said emphatically, “he just nodded.”

I looked back at Teddy and there was no doubt that his smile appeared to have got broader (though this might be down to the influence of alcohol on my brain) and he was nodding (again this might have been down to my sister pushing him with an unseen hand), either way, it was conclusive. Teddy wanted me to re-enact my photo.

I started cuddling him but Gwyneth said that I had to change first. I wasn’t too sure what she meant but she told me to follow her to her room.

“OK, let’s do this correctly,” she slurred slightly, “We need you dressed properly.”

I wasn’t sure what was about to happen but I was enjoying the silliness of the situation so went along with it.

“Take off your clothes,” she waved her hand in the direction of them, “and lay down on my bed.”

I was a little bit shocked at the suggestion but it was my sister and she wouldn’t be seeing anything she hadn’t seen thousands of times before, which she reminded me of as I slowly pulled off my shirt and dropped my jeans.

“Yesshh, and your boxers,” she went off in search of something in the bathroom.

Reluctantly, I slid them to the floor and then playfully kicked them off. They landed on a lampshade, which immediately made me start to giggle even more. “Now I’m an accurate kicker,” I half grumbled to myself. “Why wasn’t I that good when I played soccer and there were other people around?”

I lay out naked on the soft, feather-filled, cream and blue duvet that covered her bed and awaited her return; my bare dick not displaying any of its normal feistiness like it usually did when it came to being free of clothing. I stroked it a couple of times but thankfully it wasn’t playing and at that point Gwyneth arrived back in the room carrying a thick towel and I guilty let go of my prized ‘toy’.

“I’ll get you something else to play with later,” she mocked as she pretended to slap away my hand.

I realised what she was going to do and thought “Why not go all the way?” so let her fold it into shape and slip it under my bum… although before pinning it into place she sprinkled some baby powder all over me.

“Now you even smell the part,” she was smiling and that had me responding in the same way as I quite like the smell of talcum powder.

Nakedness between us has never been a problem. Nudity was never shameful in our family and it was just ‘normal’ that we wondered from bedroom to bathroom naked as it was wearing something. As we grew up we didn’t hide ourselves from each other so it was really no big deal for her to see my genitals, though perhaps not so close up. Even though she hadn’t lived at home for a couple of years now I wasn’t bothered as she rubbed the powder in and then tightly pulled the towel up between my legs and pinned it into place.

She pulled me to my feet and let me look at myself in the mirror. I was amazed at how thick the towel fashioned as a diaper appeared but, and I have to hand this to my sister, it looked exactly like the one I was wearing as a baby all those years ago.
She was smiling. “Let’s go show it off to Teddy… see what he thinks off his little friend… his little Benjy.”


Re: My 18th Birthday

Nice! I want to keep reading!

Re: My 18th Birthday

Part 2

Though it’s a name I never really liked, Benjy just seemed appropriate at that moment. She took my hand and guided me back to Teddy who once again seemed more than happy to see me, even dressed as I was. Gwyneth was keen that we should cuddle on the floor (not me and her, me and Teddy) so she could get another photograph. He was so cosy and soft it was like falling into warm butter and, as I squeezed him tightly, his furry arms appeared to embrace me at the same time. There is something very satisfying about a soft, yielding bear that welcomes you into its arms and responds with soft fleecy tickles to your naked body. Everywhere his fur touched produced a wonderful sensation; little ripples of giggly pleasure and velvety reassurance added together with delicate caresses made me feel very safe… and very loved.

There was one thing missing and I was surprised when Gwyneth suddenly produced the finishing touch. She slipped a huge blue pacifier between my lips, which I had no idea how she got or where it came from. At that moment I didn’t question anything as Gwyneth started organising and taking her snaps.

It was no problem snuggling with Teddy and to tell you the truth I was thoroughly enjoying myself. This was the most intimate contact I’d had with anyone (or anything) since, well, since I was five and had my final cuddle with the original Teddy… and I appreciated this renewed relationship.

The room was warm and I was comfortable wearing only a made-up diaper. It fitted tightly so wasn’t falling down every few seconds and once Gwyneth had finished taking her photos, we settled down to dessert. It was nothing special except a rather colourful ice-cream medley. We decided to have it sitting on the sofa whilst watching a late night movie. Teddy was just too big to sit with us so he sat at my feet, tickling them every time I brushed against him, which I did regularly, so I was smiling when my sister brought in the dessert in a bowl. She then did something we’d never done before; she fed me spoonfuls of the stuff in between taking the odd mouthful for herself. It was a lovely tender and unexpected moment. At one point we were in fits of laughter because she’d offered some to Teddy only for him to turn it down. I think she sneakily nudged his head so it looked like he was refusing the creamy delight.

“Well I suppose someone’s got to think of their figure,” she shrugged and we both sniggered like tots at that.

The movie was boring and the wine had made me very tired so I excused myself and brought my 18th birthday celebrations to a close. Gwyneth gave me a ‘goodnight’ peck and I thanked her for a great fun night (I had actually enjoyed what we’d done together it was so unlike anything we’d ever done before) she patted my diapered bum and jokingly said I wasn’t to wet, but if I was going to, then at least I was dressed accordingly.

I laughed as I began to trundle to my room but she called me back and asked if I wasn’t forgetting somebody? Of course, Teddy. I picked him up, for such a huge animal he was incredibly light to carry, and we toddled off to bed. It felt strange having the thickness of the diaper between my legs but with Teddy by my side I wasn’t worried, I dreamily thought he’d protect me from whatever the darkness brought. He was my friend and oddly enough the diaper seemed to make everything feel as it should be. Maybe it was the memory of how comforting diapers had been after I lost Teddy the first time that made me not worry as to the way I was dressed.

We climbed on top of the sheets together and it was so nice sinking into bed with someone else, even if that someone was Teddy. He was warm and welcoming and it wasn’t long before, clutched in his paws (and him mine) we were dead to the world.

I woke up from a particularly heavy night’s sleep. I was slightly woozy but I was still clutching hold of Teddy, I smiled and thanked him for keeping me safe. I lay there for a few minutes enjoying the sensation of Teddy against my skin when I became aware of the thickness between my legs. I pulled back the thin piece of sheet partially covering us both and saw the towel hanging loosely around my hips. I was quite impressed that I’d been able to sleep with such an unusual thing wrapped around me but apparently, it had made no difference to how I slept at all. Then I suddenly wondered if I’d wet myself. I didn’t feel wet but… I slipped my hand across the front and thankfully that all felt dry, then, furtively, I slipped it down the front and checked around my dick.

“Dry”, I sighed with relief.

I got up, went to the bathroom and had a nice long shower. I could hear Gwyneth pottering around downstairs and was really pleased with the way we’d celebrated my birthday. As the shower grew warmer I was thinking it was a birthday I’d never forget and beamed enthusiastically at the thought of what we’d done. It had been madly childish but I now had a new Teddy and although I was eighteen, I wasn’t going to let my parents or anyone else send him to the goodwill store.

Dressed in shorts and t-shirt I wandered downstairs. I had four days off until I was scheduled to go back into work so I was being comfortable and relaxed. The store uniform was a tight-fitting green polyester ensemble of trousers and a shirt; with my name and ‘CAN I HELP’ written across the left breast it wasn’t the most comfortable thing to wear but no one could pretend I wasn’t staff. Anyway, it was something I was always happy to ditch the moment I got home and slip into my favourite casual clothing, which is what I now wore as I wandered into the kitchen.

Gwyneth was making coffee, smiling and humming to herself. We exchanged the usual pleasantries but I detected a grin on her face, which meant she was up to something.

“What are you smiling about,” I enquired.

“Oh, nothing much except I did something last night I’m… er… surprised at the results.” She smiled but looked down as if she had a guilty secret.

“Yes, it was pretty strange wasn’t it… oh… and that reminds me… I’ve put the diaper in the bin. It’s not wet. Well it is but I… er… just dried myself on it.” I said quickly defending myself against any thoughts to the contrary she might have.

Her face brightened up.

“No seriously. I didn’t pee my diaper, honest. I just used what was nearby when I climbed out of the shower.” I stammered.

She could see I was getting slightly agitated over nothing but that smile was still there.

“I believe you,” she tried to calm me and put her hand over mine. “Anyway, I’m talking about something else.” And she flipped open the laptop that lay in front of her.

“See,” she pointed to a Facebook page that had an image of me as a one year-old and me as an eighteen year-old, side by side hugging teddies, with a pacis in our mouth and wearing diapers.

She’d put the damn image from last night online. I was mortified. Not only that but as a joke she had swapped the caption underneath so it read “Benjy at 18” under the image of me at one year-old and “Benjy at 1” under the other.

“Take it down.” I appealed. A feeling of dread and nervousness had gripped my body

She was still smiling.

“Please, Gwyneth, take it down before anyone sees it… I… I…”

“Too late for that I’m afraid.” The smile never left her face as she pointed to the fact that there were 207 Likes and 44 Comments… all of which Gwyneth assured me were positive.

I put my head in my hands and wondered what I should do. I’ve never been any good at getting angry and I don’t think I’ve ever lost my temper with Gwyneth so I was stumped for how I should really respond. All I could think about was the guys at work seeing it and them constantly referring to it. It was a good thing I had so few friends, I wasn’t on Facebook because of that, but she told me she’d set one up just for me. Also, she informed me that I was now ‘trending’, whatever that was, and the next time I looked the Facebook page had gone up to 297 Likes and 61 comments.

I sat quietly sipping my coffee but unable to eat anything at that moment. I had filled-up and I was desperately trying to hold back my emotions. I wondered what had possessed her to do such a thing but as she was sat typing away I thought perhaps it had helped her get past her writers block. She pressed the ‘enter’ key and sat back relieved as if she’d just completed an enormous task.

“Have you unblocked yourself,” I asked rather ineptly (and weepily).

She looked at me pondering what I meant, “Can you now write… have you got over not having a story or… whatever…?”

She smiled and said that she now had an idea but that it would need my help to see where it led. She was trying to cheer me up and dig me out of my ‘emotional’ state with a bit of enthusiasm. She speculated that it might be a terrific change of style for her but needed my involvement and hoped I’d be up for it. I was still nursing my bruised and emotional ego; I didn’t really want 297… no it was now 314… people to think of me as a baby but I suppose it did no real harm. After all, I had so few friends to worry over and in fact, my parents and my sister were the only people I really had anything to do with. I liked the guys at work but… well… it was work; it wasn’t like we socialised much. Even school mates were few and far between, I only saw them when they were back from college or university or where ever.

“I’ve just uploaded a few more images of you from last night to the page…” she spun the screen for me to see, “and already people are clicking the ‘Like’ button.”

Although I was frustrated with her attitude my sister had furnished me with something else for my birthday, something I would never even have thought about, my own Facebook page. As I watched the screen I was amazed to see the number of Likes and Comments that kept appearing. She smiled at my stunned expression and suggested that I should read some of them.

I had no idea how to go about it but she pointed out how many Likes each image was receiving and clicked on a box that let me see the comments. Most were very positive: “Oooo look at the lickle babe”, “What a sweet innocent picture”, “Lovely idea”, “What a nice boy” and similar things. However, there were one or two more intense messages.

Gwyneth tapped the screen. “I think maybe later we should take a look at these suggestions and see where they lead.”

I shook my head and told her I didn’t think so but she begged me to reconsider as she thought it would make an interesting part to a new novel she was just beginning to envisage. This, she promised, would get her back on track as she could already feel her creative juices flowing. I still doubted the wisdom of getting involved but she told me that I would be credited at the front of the book for my ‘inspiration’. OK, she got me. How could I refuse my sister and such an opportunity to be recognised as someone who had given a successful author ‘inspiration’?

As I sat at her laptop reading the various messages she told me, as she slipped on her coat, collected her car keys and headed for the door, not to reply to any comment just yet. I just shrugged but I have to admit that my curiosity was aroused by just how many people, now standing at over 400 Likes and 83 Comments, felt the need to acknowledge my photographs. I know I was looking like a happy teenager playing with a huge teddy bear and wearing just a diaper but I couldn’t get over why that should create such attention.

“Where you going?” I eventually managed to break away from the screen.

“Just to get a few things from the store, I shouldn’t be long.” She smiled. “There’s plenty of juice in the fridge if you’d rather have that than coffee… and there are some English muffin’s if you want something to eat.”

“OK, see you soon.”

I did prefer juice and poured myself a lovely long cool glass of OJ before putting the muffins in the toaster. I grabbed the butter and strawberry jelly and sat at the laptop waiting for the toaster to do its job, the screen had gone blank and wasn’t sure whether I should touch it to try and get my pages back. I was curious to see how things had developed since I last looked. I waited until I’d finished my breakfast before examining the screen again and hoped that by touching one of the keys I didn’t erase all of Gwyneth’s work.

A list of recently visited sites appeared and I was distracted to see that the latest one was YouTube. This was perhaps one of my favourite sites because of all the cute animal clips that seemed to occupy most of its content. I decided I’d like to see some playful kittens to cheer myself up and pressed on the key. It went straight to a clip of a big baby rolling around the floor with a huge teddy. Oh no, it was me. The clip started on my diaper pins and slowly pulled out to reveal, well, everything. To begin with my face was hidden by the big paci and it could have been anybody but as I played with Teddy and moved around the floor hugging and kissing him I became more and more identifiable.

My mouth went dry, it was as if I’d never even drunk that OJ, and I stared at the screen mesmerised by my actions. There was absolutely no doubt I was having fun, diaper or not, and from the occasional looks to the camera you could tell I was in my element. As I watched my body went clammy and I could feel those emotions of mine rising to the surface. As I happily played my diapered bottom appeared to be the main focus of attention – just what the hell was Gwyneth thinking? There were three different clips; two of me playing with Teddy and one of me sleeping with Teddy, which I didn’t even know she’d recorded. In fact, I didn’t know she’d recorded anything I thought she was just taking photos with her phone. There I was, happily snuggling Teddy with my arms wrapped around him, paci hanging slightly out of my mouth fast asleep and my white padded bottom looking quite prominent against the dark blue of my sheets.

I wondered why so many people had commented and noticed that the clips had, even after just such a short space of time, received more than 3200 hits. There was a link to the Facebook page but now I was dreading reading the comments as I was sure they would be calling me a perv… or worse. I filled up with tears and cried because I didn’t know what I could do, I thought such notoriety would make me a laughing stock in town, perhaps lose my job and I’d never be able to look people in the eye again.

My bottom lip was still trembling when Gwyneth arrived back home. I hadn’t moved from staring at the screen because I was simply mesmerised by the images. She could see I was disturbed and dropped the bundle of packages she was carrying and came over to comfort me. The sobbing became a full blown wail as I buried my head in her bosom and kept on asking her “Why?” I assumed she hadn’t done it to hurt me but I couldn’t figure out why she would do such a thing.

After a few minutes I calmed down and I looked at my sister through tear-stained eyes. She hugged me again and asked why I was crying. I was speechless that she could ask such a question so just pointed to the screen.

“Yes, it’s you…” she asked with concern, “but why are you crying?”

“What… what… what will…” I sniffed, “what will people think?”

She just shook her head slightly.

“They’ll think that there’s something wrong with me… they’ll think I’m…” I couldn’t finish my thoughts as I was overcome once again with a huge sob that gripped my throat and left me shaking my head in disbelief.

“Tell me,” Gwyneth was now all very serious, “aren’t those really tears of happiness?”

I looked at her in disbelief.

“You’re eighteen. Eighteen,” she emphasised, “and” she pointed at the screen, “that’s the first time I’ve seen you truly happy in many-a-year.”

There was no doubt about it those images were of me genuinely happy. When I was playing with Teddy I simply didn’t have another thought in my head apart from having a fun time with him. But I wondered, what might others think of an eighteen year-old running around in a towel… that’s a diaper?

Gwyneth hugged me once more. “You my sweet little Benjy needed something. I wasn’t sure what to begin with but, and I’m sorry to say this to my little brother but, you needed a kick up the arse for you to start living.”

I was stunned at what she was saying.

“You are eighteen and just coasting through life. You have a miserable job…” I interrupted her and said that at least I had a job. “Yes you do, and I’m sure it’s fine in many ways but… I’ve never seen you actually happy for so long now. You seem to have few, if any, friends and mom and dad are no real help to encourage you…”

The enormity of what she was saying suddenly gripped me and I felt that huge sob I’d been holding back in the pit of my stomach come out with force. I hung onto Gwyneth as I wailed and wailed, not this time because I was worried about what others might think but because she was correct.


Re: My 18th Birthday 1-2

Interesting start! I can’t wait to read more :slight_smile:

Re: My 18th Birthday 1-2

Great story looking forward to next chapter

Re: My 18th Birthday 1-2

Part 3

Later, when I’d calmed down, Gwyneth told me her thinking. She said that from the moment I saw the photo of me as a baby with Teddy there was an immediate change of expression on my face; wistful, thoughtful, with a touch of longing. She wasn’t sure but thought Teddy made me happy. I began to think back - certainly that time in my life, when I wasn’t regarded as anything but a toddler, when I didn’t have to prove myself and just enjoy my childhood… I was like everyone else my age… a little kid revelling in what was around him… I was happy.

She went into a great deal of detail about how I tried so hard to live up to my parent’s expectations; they were of the opinion that kids should grow up quick and had little time for games and play – ‘read and learn’ was their philosophy. Unfortunately, those were the very things Gwyneth was most happy doing but I just couldn’t get to grips with. Reading and numbers just weren’t for me and I wrestled with school work, which I found very difficult no matter how I tried. My sister went on about how, even so young, I let failure weigh heavy on my shoulder, although it wasn’t always obvious because I tried to be positive and strived to be upbeat.

Once our parents realised I wasn’t going to be a boy genius (they were most disappointed in my report cards) they more or less lost interest. They gave themselves over to their work and concentrated on their careers rather than what I did. Of course Gwyneth was way ahead in her development and they saw no problems there. Often I tried to read but once I’d open a book, if I got past the first two pages, well, my concentration level jumped to wanting to watch TV or go and play outside. Sometimes I’d curl up with Gwyneth and she’s read to me whatever it was she was interested in. I may not have understood everything but I think, without her, I’d know very little. When I thought about it, she did the job my parents should have done. It wasn’t that they ignored me, more that they tolerated me. I was their son after all…

I zoned back in to what Gwyneth was saying. “You may not have been the cleverest in school but everyone liked you.” She looked at me very concerned and stroked my arm.

She went on to tell me that even now I accept limitations but said I shouldn’t. She thought it sad that I didn’t have a girlfriend… or a boyfriend, she nudged me and smiled, but thought I needed to do something to break away from my ‘boring’ rut of a life… and do something to regain my happiness.

“The recreation of the photograph last night suddenly brought things into focus for me,” she was on a role now. “You seemed to become a different person, a happy person, a person who, left to their own devices… and given the right stimulus…”

“You mean you thought I enjoyed being a baby?” I asked incredulously.

She pointed to the screen. “Yes, just look at yourself. Even when you’re asleep you look happy.”

A shiver ran through my body because I knew she was making some kind of sense and I had really loved last night. “But the diaper… what will people think?”

“Well,” she pondered. “You may not like it but… I think that helped release something in you - something that has been holding you back. Last night we giggled like kids and there was no one around but us two to say anything or have an opinion about what we did. No parents, no workmates, no one to hold you back, so why should you let others inhibit you? Stop thinking about what others may think… they don’t matter.”

Then she ran her hand through my hair and kissed my forehead, “And yes… even for an eighteen year-old, running around in a diaper… you looked pretty damn cute.”

“But why put it all online, couldn’t you just have said something?” I complained.

“It was just a spur of the moment decision. I wanted to let you see that the majority of people quite like to see someone enjoying themselves. People like all kinds of things to hide what they do and what they are, but you brother, were open and happy when you weren’t worrying about anyone else and I think others respond to that.” She pointed to the screen, “I think you respond to that.”

There were more opinions from my sister and, as she’s a lot brighter than me, eventually convinced me that this was a turning point in my life. She added that the comments online were almost all positive, occasionally cheeky but always interested, supportive and in some ways quite affectionate. Of course there’s going to be one or two people who hate the idea of others finding a way of having fun “Just so they can shit on you” (yep she actually said shit) but, and this is where her recent shopping trip had come in, she wanted to try and let me take that idea of happiness a little further.

She’d bought a whole load of adult disposables and wanted me to spend the next few days wearing nothing but them. She persuaded me that I needed to get back to when I was at my happiest. To relive those times hoping to give me a window into what I needed to do to make me content in the future. I baulked at her suggestion but my sister has a way with of getting me to go along with her plans so, guess what?

She took me upstairs, stripped me out of my shorts and t-shirt and slipped me into a tight-fitting disposable. She took great pains to make the event something special; opening the package, unfurling the diaper, enjoying the crinkling sound as she spread it under my bottom. The wet-wipes and powder she used to clean me up (not that I was dirty or anything it was all part of her process), the silliness as I started to get a stiffy from her ministrations, which she quickly took care of by pulling the disposable tightly up between my legs and taping me snugly in. From her bag she produced a pair of plastic pants and had me climb into them after which led me to Teddy, who, during the proceedings she’d found time to dress the same. How she knew I’d go along with her suggestion I do not know but, oddly enough, I was delighted to see Teddy dressed like me and it did make things easier. We spent the rest of the evening playing games; me, my sister and Teddy.

Now you may think - well that was easy - getting me into diapers but I’ve spared you the long discussion we had to go through to get to that stage. She showed me loads of comments that had been posted by those who’d watched the clip or seen the images. As I’ve said, most seemed straight forward and nice but others were actually welcoming me to my ‘little’ side. I had no idea what they were referring to but Gwyneth seemed to understand and, more importantly, felt it was something I should get to know. Ever the author, she’d spent some time researching what it all meant and thought it applied to me, even if I wasn’t aware of it.

She then showed me clip after clip of other grown-ups wearing diapers and having fun. People from all over the world and all ages, I was astonished there were others at all. A couple of cute boys in Japan appeared to have a site about their daily diapered exploits, one nice young man sang a song at his piano dressed in a thick diaper. There were so many – an old guy eating whilst in a high-chair, others drinking from baby-bottles and sippy cups or charging around whilst wearing nothing but diapers and a cape pretending to be a super hero. Meanwhile, as some played with toys several exhibited what they had just crayoned or painted. It was quite overwhelming and gave the impression that diapered and padded plastic covered bottoms were everywhere. It was a whole new world to me and one I had no idea existed but, as Gwyneth pointed out, they were all enjoying themselves and not worrying what anyone else thought. She convinced me to give it a go and promised that if I wasn’t getting any pleasure from the new ‘situation’ then we’d forget all about it.

It was late evening when I was eventually diapered and, thanks to Gwyneth, I didn’t feel guilty whilst running around dressed as I was and cheerfully including Teddy in all my escapades. Suddenly my mind was open to fun - childish fun - fun that I hadn’t experienced, well, since I was a toddler. The truth was I was in my element. Weirdly, the wearing of a diaper and plastic pants (Gwyneth said it was my freedom uniform!) had no restricting effect on the way I behaved. In fact, she was correct, it felt wonderful to wear; snug, comfortable and the constant rustling as I moved around acted like some kind of soothing sound I found reassuring. Though it may have appeared very juvenile to anyone looking on I’d never felt happier, freer, or more content. The diapers, the plastic pants, the pacifier, indeed the entire ensemble gave me a feeling of complete reassurance. Teddy provided someone I could direct it all to, while Gwyneth was my guide and safeguard.

In the morning I woke up with Teddy and of course I’d spent the night wearing just my padded protection (another term Gwyneth used although I wasn’t sure from what it was I was being protected). My sister was standing over me and gently shaking my shoulder to rouse me from my deep and untroubled sleep and then, without asking, she felt down the front of my diaper.

“What are you doing?” I queried as I quickly clasped her hand over my bulky protection stopping her searching fingers from reaching any further.

“Just checking.”

“Just checking what?”

“Just seeing if you wet yourself in the night…”

“What?” I asked incredulously. “Why would I wet myself?”

“You might have… I was just checking so that you don’t have to be embarrassed if you had and…”

“Stop, stop.” I waved my finger at her. “I’m old enough to get up and go to the bathroom, why on earth would I wet myself?”

She smiled. “You don’t have to get all defensive. All I’m saying is… if you had wet yourself it’s OK I will…”

“That’s not OK at all,” I argued. “I’m not going to pee… or poop in a diaper… YUK!”

“Fair enough. All I’m saying is, should you do so then you don’t have to feel embarrassed about it. I’ll change and clean you up.”

I was getting slightly annoyed. Even though I enjoyed being in my diaper I didn’t actually think about using it as a toilet. However, soon after she left the room for me to get up she returned with a new disposable and some other bits and bobs and told me I needed a change anyway. As I’d sort of agreed to wearing nothing but a diaper for the next couple of days she just shrugged off my half-hearted protests and unfurled the crinkly package.

As I lay there I was wondering - Why is she behaving in this way?

We’d agreed that it was something I might like to try but wetting and stuff… in a diaper… I wasn’t keen on that at all, and then it hit me. She’d recently lost her own chance of a baby, perhaps the miscarriage was affecting her and I was now some kind of surrogate, someone she was projecting her unresolved feelings on? In that moment of comprehension my emotions welled up inside me again and I hugged my sister. After all she’d been through, still acting strong and in charge yet perhaps she needed her own way of coping with things. I was choked at the thought that if I could help, then I was there for her no matter what it took.

Without making a fuss I let her strip off my night time stuff, clean me up (just as she said she would) but this time, when she had me lay out on the newly unfurled diaper, she added some extra pads before taping me tightly into place. This was a whole new experience and with the plastic pants now firmly holding it securely she led me down to breakfast. At this point I have to admit to being more than a little confused. I wasn’t sure whether I was doing this for her or for me but the bulky, rustling diaper arrangement meant I now had a wild noisy waddle as I negotiated the stairs but even that was funny and we joked about it.

She’d cut up my pancakes and, although she’d put juice in a sippy cup, I stopped short at her suggestion of feeding me. However, I had noticed that my meal now came in a plastic bowl with cartoon animals smiling sweetly up at me and a spoon that echoed the same cheerful motif. She appeared to have gone to a lot of trouble to make me feel happy about being ‘little’ and I reluctantly began to appreciate all her efforts.

I was happy to wander around the house dressed as I was but when she suggested we go out for the day and enjoy the sunshine in the park or a walk up in the hills I was a little less sure. She told me to just pull a pair of shorts over my diaper and slip on a shirt and I’d be fine. I wasn’t sure about this at all as I was under no illusion that people would be able to tell what I was really wearing under my shorts. Her opinion was simple “Screw them” no one else mattered but me and, she whispered conspiratorially in my ear.

“Don’t you think it would be quite exciting, Little Benjy doing what he wants for a change?”

Once again, somehow, what she wanted I agreed to and before too long I’d tried on several pairs of shorts and jeans to try and hide the bulkiness, none of which fitted properly. I was beginning to see the downside to wearing padding and such thick padding at that. I was about to tell Gwyneth that I couldn’t find anything but in the end one pair of baggy shorts (I didn’t much like because they were too slack) managed to do the job and surprise, surprise, they were no longer loose.

It was a wonderful hot day and I was more than pleased to be out and about not really paying much attention to what I was wearing. Although I could feel the bulk of it all I thought that the shorts hid what was underneath pretty well. We walked up into the hills and hardly saw anyone, those that did pass by just nodded or said “Hello” and carried on their way. We found a lovely shady spot where Gwyneth decided we’d have our picnic. She’d brought sodas, sandwiches and fruit but I wondered what I’d brought in the little backpack she’d given me to carry. She told me all would be revealed eventually but for the time being we should eat and enjoy the wonderful, peaceful surroundings.

The mass between my legs had made me waddle as we walked. It felt peculiar but I was getting a feeling of pleasure knowing what I was wearing, the problem was the padding and plastic made me sweat and I could feel moisture pooling at my crotch. Once we’d sat down Gwyneth saw me trying to rearrange the diaper and suggested, as it was so hot, I take off my shorts and shirt to let some sun and air get to my diaper… as I looked like “…a sweating pig”. It was true I was soaked and it would be a bit of a relief so I furtively looked around and saw no one anywhere near so I did as she suggested. It felt great being outside in the fresh air in just a diaper. Gwyneth thought I looked particularly cute and encouraged me run around and to chase butterflies as she got the picnic ready.

I was aware that she was also taking photos with her phone and to be honest I was acting the big kid just for the camera. However, I didn’t know just how much I was enjoying myself until a little while later I noticed a couple talking with Gwyneth. I froze as I heard these two old people, both with walking sticks, making small talk about the weather and the beautiful countryside. They were looking across at me, waving and I heard them say that they liked to see a boy enjoying himself.

So engrossed in my game of ‘chase the bugs’ I hadn’t seen the couple arrive but their sudden appearance startled me and made me do something I never thought I’d do - I felt a nervous spurt of pee escape. It was if my bladder was shocked by this unexpected visitation and reacted accordingly. I stood there stunned as they continued to chat and wave a greeting. Unfortunately, I was too embarrassed to respond even if no one else appeared to be. It was too late to hide so I just stood there, like a statue, about twenty feet away completely immobile and wishing I was somewhere else.

Gwyneth called me over as the food was ready and inferred I should come and say ‘Hello’ but I was just too self-conscious. Eventually, the couple stopped talking to Gwyneth and carried on their way. As they passed by they smiled and said what a lovely day it was before disappearing down the hill. However, as they spoke, and without warning, my little spurt turned into a flow and no matter what my brain was saying to try and stop it, pee filled the diaper to complete my humiliation. The couple had obviously seen what I was wearing but there was no mention of diapers or shiny plastic pants, even though they were now an even bulkier part of my outfit having absorbed a great deal of liquid.

I waddled over to Gwyneth who looked at me strangely before I think she realized what I’d done.

With a knowing but sympathetic expression she asked. “Do you need a change?”

I wasn’t sure whether to admit it but there seemed little point in denying what had happened so I nodded. She lifted her hand examining the front of my diaper and said it wasn’t so bad and that it could wait for a while and we should eat first. Despite my embarrassment I was starving so plonked myself down on the blanket and set about the ham, cheese and tomato sandwiches (covered in mayo) with relish.


Re: My 18th Birthday 1-2-3

Thanks for updating! I love it so far :slight_smile:

Re: My 18th Birthday 1-2-3

Great job, keep up the good work a slow progression… Makes for a good storyline

Re: My 18th Birthday 1-2-3-4

Part 4

Wearing a wet diaper wasn’t nearly as bad as I’d thought it would be and after a while, and despite the bulk, I’d forgotten that I’d wet it. After we’d eaten we had a game of ‘ISpy’ and a rather interesting competition of cloud watching; it really is incredible the shapes you can interpret into actual things. We were coming up with some silly and clearly outrageous suggestions and this had us giggling quite a lot. However, after a couple of hours, and several cans of soda, I was desperate for another pee.

Gwyneth looked at me when I said I needed to go because I was searching for a private spot to do my duty. She just reminded me that I’d already used my diaper once so it would be silly not to do so again. I thought I couldn’t do it deliberately but Gwyneth pounced, rolled on top of me and began to tickle. Whether I wanted to or not that got the old pee flowing, and it is to the credit of the diaper’s absorption powers that nothing trickled out.

We lay in the sun enjoying the final few rays before we returned home. I wondered if I’d have to squish all the way but my ever prepared sister opened the little backpack I’d carried, emptied it out and there were spare disposables, plastic pants, creams, lotions and of course a supply of wipes and baby powder. I had no idea that was what I was carrying but, as she pulled at the tapes off my swollen diaper I was rather pleased she’d planned ahead. It was a relief when she removed the soggy thing. It had grown to quite a size and again I was amazed that I’d been wearing that grossly expanded object between my legs and, perhaps more to the point, it hadn’t concerned me in the least. As she wiped me clean but before she applied the creams and powder a light breeze blew against my naked genitals and sent tiny ripples of bliss through my body. My penis reacted and grew under her deft handiwork but she just smiled, pulled the diaper between my well-powdered groin and quickly taped it into place; flattening its stiffness against my body and blocking any further thoughts I might have had regarding that particular bit of my anatomy.

This time the plastic pants I stepped into were blue and I was dressed like that for a few minutes as we packed everything else away. Gwyneth took more photographs and kept on reminding me how wonderful and sweet she thought I looked. In fact, at every opportunity she kept complementing the way I looked and patting my padded bottom, which made me chuckle, I liked the attention. The day had been nothing like any other I could remember. I couldn’t recall ever doing this with mom or dad, days out were just something other kids got to experience with their parents. This was great and even in diapers, it had been a fantastic day… in fact I was appreciating even more the incredible efforts my sister had gone to for me to feel special on my eighteenth.

Back home we sat and watched TV for a while (her in her summer dress and me wearing nothing but a diaper and plastic pants), before she recommended I took a bath before bed - to make sure, she jokingly said, that there was no residue pee left secreted in any ‘crevices’. Normally, I have a shower in the morning and that’s it but her reasonable suggestion made me think it probably wasn’t a bad idea so off I went. I shucked off my diaper, which wasn’t wet, and happily climbed into the suds. The water was very hot but I could just about stand it; my sister’s lavender bubble bath I’d ladled in helped me to fully relax as I let myself soak for quite some time.

It had been one hell of a day and as I washed my hair and gently scrubbed those all-important places I began to feel ‘playful’ again. Wearing a diaper had a major drawback for a horny eighteen year-old, it restricted (if not completely prevented) any cock and ball play. A toddler may not think that way but, now I was out of those confining things, I intended on having a different kind of fun. However, just as I was enjoying the gentle caress of my own soapy hand, Gwyneth walked in with a towel. I was slightly embarrassed at being caught in mid-stroke but she just smiled and told me that I’d wrinkle up if I didn’t get out of the bath. I was hoping she’d go so I could continue with my efforts but she just stood there, towel outstretched, waiting for me to rise from the foam. Reluctantly I climbed out and Gwyneth proceeded to give me the most thorough drying I think I’ve ever received; every bit of my body was methodically rubbed. Unfortunately, she ignored the very part of me that would have benefitted from such an enthusiastic massage and I was left more than a little frustrated.

She guided me to my room and of course her supplies were all laid out ready for me to be diapered for the night. I really thought that it would be back to my usual boxers and t-shirt to sleep in but obviously Gwyneth had other ideas. I was about to complain, or try and reason with her at least, but she’d gone to such extraordinary lengths so far to make me happy I wondered if this was perhaps another thing I thought I didn’t want but actually did. Anyway, the upshot was that she carefully applied lotions and creams, lashings of powder and an ultra-thick fabric diaper, which was held in place with two huge pink pins. Once again she slipped up a pair of clear plastic pants that snugly held it all together and, just as I thought she’d finished and was about to crawl into bed, she produced something else, a pair of footed pjs.

I wasn’t expecting this and wondered how the hell she’d been able to get hold of something my size so quickly. The pjs were blue with cartoon stars and planets all over them and, as she fed my feet into them, I marvelled at how soft the fabric was as it touched and caressed my skin. Soon my arms were encased and she stood me up for the final action. The zip was at the back and stretched from hips to neck, which she closed with a flourish. Then we stood together looking in the mirror and it was an amazing sight. I was stunned at the reflection; I thought she looked like mom and I was back to being a toddler, I was even holding her hand and, as a shiver ran through my body, and despite my size, I really did feel like I was back to being a little kid.

I was speechless as Gwyneth gently led me to my bed, pulled back the covers, where Teddy was lying still dressed in his own diaper, and urged me in. I was dazed at this strange ‘mirror revelation’, a glimpse of my past that really shook me and, because I was distracted thinking about it, wasn’t even aware that she slipped a babies bottle full of warm milk between my lips. As she held it to my mouth, and with my mind elsewhere, I naturally began to suck and closed my eyes as I rhythmically downed the entire contents. Later she replaced the bottle with my paci and left me cuddling Teddy as I drifted off to sleep after what, one way and another, had been a pretty eventful day.

My dreams were of Teddy and me and Gwyneth and me, where Gwyneth was actually my mommy and Teddy was my father… weird. At one point mommy (Gwyneth) was telling me what a ‘good boy’ I was because I’d managed to use the potty correctly but daddy (Teddy) was threatening to spank me if I didn’t wear and use my diaper like he was (yes in my dreams Teddy/daddy was still wearing his diaper). In my dreams I was doing all I could to please them both and each one was telling me what a ‘clever baby’ I was being.

I woke up desperate for a pee. I climbed out of bed and made my way to the bathroom but once there found I couldn’t reach the zip on the rear of my footer. I tugged and tugged but for some reason I just couldn’t budge it, in the end I had no option but to fill my diaper. I argued with myself that was what the diaper was for, and Gwyneth had encouraged me to think of it in that way, “Just do it” had been her advice, so that’s what I did. To begin with it was a strange warm sensation, which I didn’t mind much, luckily the diaper and plastic pants held it all in and I was able to fall back to sleep relatively quickly. In the early hours I felt I needed to go again but this time I made no attempt to get to the bathroom so lay there and with little effort further filled my diaper.

When I eventually did wake up the diaper was thick between my legs and my plastic pants where a shiny stretched reminder at just how much I’d drunk the night before. However, and this fact was a bit of an eye-opener, it didn’t worry me what I’d done. Just the day before the very thought had made me recoil in horror but here I was wearing a fully soaked diaper and not being bothered about it in the slightest.

I got up and sought out Gwyneth because I needed help getting out of the footer. She was already downstairs making breakfast and smiled as I shuffled into the kitchen. Another few photographs were taken as I asked her to let me out but she just told me to sit down and have the bacon and eggs she’d cooked before they got cold, and which had been cut into bite sized pieces. I waddled to the table (I was waddling everywhere at that time) sat down and it was a squelchy diaper that cushioned my bottom. Once again everything was served in the new little kiddie bowl and I was given only the matching spoon to use. My juice was served in a sippy cup and despite any doubts I may have had I was so famished I happily ate and drank the lot.

Once my plate was clean and I’d taken it to be washed Gwyneth led me back upstairs to be changed. She tweaked the zipper and it easily came down but I informed her that I was very, very wet because I couldn’t get to the bathroom to go properly. She just smiled as I stepped out of my pjs making small talk about what the plans were for the day as if changing an eighteen year-old was the most natural thing to do. I shucked down my plastic pants and the fabric beneath was saturated. She asked if I’d messed as well but I just made an “Uuuurrrghhh” type of noise to indicate no and she patted my swollen bottom and unpinned me. How she could be OK with all this changing business I didn’t know but I suppose, thinking about what I’d assumed earlier, she was substituting me for her lost baby… well maybe. I certainly didn’t want to be the one to spoil whatever fantasy or need she had at that moment because, well, I was still enjoying playing this game myself.

Gwyneth had been correct about there being a ‘little’ me somewhere inside and that the people online and who commented on YouTube had also noticed it so, I was feeling part of a pretty cute group. I liked the term ‘little’ and, as my sister had shown me, dressed in diapers had released me to be the fun person she suspected I was all along. With her encouragement being childish was nothing to be ashamed about and living an enjoyable life as a toddler certainly beat stacking shelves. However, work was on the horizon and I wanted to make the most of my time off before it was back to the grindstone. I’d even begun to think that perhaps I might be able to wear a diaper or something similar under my uniform but I was sure the outline would be obvious as the pants were so tight.

I showered and Gwyneth once again got me ready for the day. She put a couple of pads in the disposable and pulled up the clear plastic pants. She pointed to a mark on the front and told me that, if I wet them, then the mark would change colour and she could check without me saying anything if I needed changing. Then she pulled out a new yellow t-shirt with tiny toy rocking horses all over it and slipped it over my head. Although I did a sort of double-take because it looked so childish she then produced a matching pair of shorts which she quickly fed my legs into and pulled up to my waist. Again that feeling of just being a little kid with mommy dressing me coursed through my body and I stood transfixed by my new outfit. Although I was eighteen I wasn’t a large teenager, in fact, Gwyneth was a good two inches taller than me and much bigger. However, I didn’t get chance to be pleased or complain because Gwyneth was guiding my crinkling butt down the stairs and out to the car.

I had no idea where we were going but Gwyneth was telling me about some of the online comments she had read. According to her, loads of them had said that it was best to make the ‘little one’ happy and comfortable in clothes that were soft, colourful and reminded them of when they were a toddler. Toys and colouring books were also an important aspect to all this so that’s where we were going now, to a mall that had a huge toy store.

For every reason I put up not to go (especially dressed as I was) she had a comment that said the opposite. There was no doubt that the bulky diaper I was sitting on was a constant reminder of what I liked and perhaps surprisingly I found the hugging of my hips and groin very pleasing. However, although I quite liked it I thought my little yellow outfit was maybe going too far to be seen in public. Gwyneth said I shouldn’t worry, everything would be alright and was convinced no one would say a thing. I doubted that and remained silent for the rest of the journey.

In the silence I began to think. How come she had a footer my size? How come she had this outfit ready? How come she had a paci, bowl, diapers and plastic…? Just as my suspicions were growing I suddenly got a pain in my stomach. I groaned and Gwyneth asked me what was wrong. I tried to tell her about the pain but almost instantaneously my guts started to churn. I begged Gwyneth to pull over as I needed to go to the bathroom but she said there wasn’t one nearby. She said that I should just pee in the diaper but I moaned I thought it might be more than that.

“OK, just hold on we’re not far away.” She said with concern etched on her face.

Unfortunately, the turmoil in my stomach wasn’t open to any constraints from me and I couldn’t hold back. With a loud wet fart the contents of my bowel erupted into my diaper and I was crying in humiliation and disgust as wave after wave of poop exited my bottom. The smell in the car was awful and Gwyneth had to roll down the window to get us both some air. I sat in my own rapidly filling diaper stunned at what was happening. As soon as my guts exploded the pain had instantly gone but I was mortified by the strange and disgusting feeling I felt in my pants… my emotions took over and there were more tears.

A couple of minutes later and we arrived at the mall but I thought in my state I just couldn’t leave the car. However, she insisted that I couldn’t just sit in the mess and that I wasn’t to worry she’d have me cleaned up in no time. She grabbed my hand and led me crying and gingerly waddling towards Toys’r’Us, which was the first store in the mall nearest to where we parked. There were a few kids already looking at toys with their parents but Gwyneth led me straight to the baby changing area.

It was empty when we went in and although I was crying and embarrassed I let her take charge. My little shorts were pulled off, which thankfully were still clean, she then tentatively shimmied the plastic pants down to reveal my bloated and discoloured disposable. Mercifully, the extra padding had absorbed most of the liquid but I was still a mess. She quickly stripped me out of it all and, with barely any acknowledgement to the smell, set about cleaning me up. I hadn’t noticed the large bag she was carrying but as she lay me out on one of the counters, she opened it up to reveal a host of stuff she’d need to fix me. First she used toilet paper and then going over to the sink soaped up a cloth she’d brought and began to wipe away the debris. I was still sniffling when someone else came in. A woman with a baby took one look at me, looked pityingly at Gwyneth and then set about changing her own child. My clean-up took quite some time and during that period I lay there motionless, self-conscious and desperate not to make eye contact with any of the other patrons using the facilities.

A lady with a boy aged about ten came in, found the empty table next to mine and stripped her son out of his shortalls by simply popping some studs at his crotch, laying him out and then popping the studs on his cute cartoon plastic pants, which instantly gave her easy access to his soaked diaper. Gwyneth watched how easily it all appeared and asked the lady where she had bought her boy’s shortalls. After a brief discussion about their usefulness and hardwearing properties (“Just the thing for an active boy”) she made a note of the name she’d been given, thanked her and resumed my re-diapering. The young boy and I were finished together. Gwyneth pulled up my yellow shorts as his mother finished pressing the last few poppers back together. He bashfully smiled at me as his mum picked him up, patted his freshly padded bottom and they set off to finish their shopping… and quite unexpectedly I cautiously waved back.

The young boy’s attitude to being changed in public had stopped me blubbing as he seemed untroubled by the process. That sweet little smile had really got to me and I wished we could play together. I was no longer thinking of our age difference only what we had in common and we both wore diapers and had accidents in them. It was a revelation and suddenly I didn’t feel so self-conscious.

Once Gwyneth had packed all her stuff away, and before we left the bathroom, she asked if I was OK. Now I was clean, dry and wearing my thick ‘protection’ (now I knew what Gwyneth had meant by that term) I was comfortable and quite happy to continue.

“Good,” she said as she patted my freshly padded bottom and we entered the main part of the store.

The array of toys was spellbinding. Mom and dad had never been keen on my playing with such childish things and because Gwyneth, even as a youngster, preferred to read, I wasn’t encouraged or given many toys to play with. As we toured the aisles I was spoilt for choice, I just didn’t know what to get for the best. Over in the kids play area right next to the store I saw the young boy from earlier running around with some younger kids sliding into the ball pit, running on the rope bridge and playing on the JungleGym. He noticed me and waved again and it was the first time I noticed that his diaper was really quite obvious and thick. However, he seemed unconcerned as he smiled, whooped with pleasure and chased some other kids into another part of the ‘playzone’.

Sitting on the floor in front of a plastic toy garage was another guy, perhaps a few years older than me, discovering how the wind-up lift worked that took the toy cars to the top to let them zigzag down again. He was wearing denim shorts but because he was bent over there was no hiding the top of his diaper from showing above the waistband. As I walked past he looked up and smiled, whilst running one of the four vehicles scattered around him along the ground and making car noises.

“That looks fun,” I said and he invited me to join him on the floor.

He was a lot older than his clothes would have suggested; he had a huge cartoon character on the front of his sweatshirt and his socks also had the same image festooned all over them. His sneakers had lights in the heel which flashed as he walked and he spoke, well, like a toddler. He was both shy and enthusiastic to have someone to play with but then I saw an older man approach who asked him if he’d made a friend.

Gwyneth and the man got talking as we played together and inspected all the secrets that the garage contained. I didn’t hear what they were saying because my new friend grabbed my hand and took me to another aisle to check out the latest huge toy castle that he said his ‘dada’ was going to buy him. His voice was soft, as if he didn’t want anyone to notice him, but he was enthusiastic as he explained all the fantastic things the castle contained and all the dragons, monsters and soldiers you could get to do battle. He seemed so excited but then his ‘dada’ called him and he went rushing off to hold his hand. Even though he was older than me he acted like a little kid; shyly holding his ‘dada’s’ hand and swinging a foot whilst he waited for him to stop chatting with Gwyneth. I have to admit, knowing he was wearing a diaper like me was heart-warming, he looked so sweet and just as at ease as the ten year-old boy had been. I sat where I was inspecting the massive plastic castle with all its turrets and towers and wondered if I should get one. He’d fired my imagination and I liked the idea of dragons and knights and fantastic mythical encounters. A few moments later Gwyneth called me but I hadn’t made up my mind.

We spent a good couple of hours looking at everything but I really wished I could play in the kids zone with all the other children as it looked fun. However, I realised that it just wasn’t built for someone my size and I’d just have to watch. After the two encounters with other ‘older’ diaper wearers, now I was all clean and tidy myself I never gave what I was wearing much thought and it was only the knowing smile from an adult, or a gawping look from a toddler that occasionally made me hesitate. However, I had work to do and decisions to make and they didn’t come easily. In the end I settled on some cars, a large truck and loads of little figures and colouring books from the latest Pixar movie.


Re: My 18th Birthday 1-2-3-4

Another cute, well-written chapter! Thanks :smiley:

Re: My 18th Birthday 1-5

Part 5

As we drove back, after having had lunch at the food court (I had pieces of chicken shaped like dinosaurs and a strawberry shake) where hardly anyone batted an eyelid, I was so excited about getting to play with my new toys. Don’t get me wrong, I had played with toys in the past but not often so this was like a whole new beginning. When I’d helped run the crèche at the work’s charity day I think I was as happy fooling around with the toys as I was getting involved in the kid’s games. In fact, now I thought about it, that was the absolute best time I’d ever had at the store.

We arrived back home early afternoon and I was desperate to try out all my new things but Gwyneth took me upstairs, checked to see I hadn’t wet myself in all the excitement and insisted I settle down for a nap first. I was shocked at such a suggestion and told her that I didn’t need one. Again she insisted and I started whining that I wasn’t tired and that I shouldn’t have to go to bed in the afternoon as I wasn’t a baby. However, as I whined and said “No” she pulled off my t-shirt, yanked down my shorts and guided my diapered bottom toward the bed and Teddy.

I no longer felt like an eighteen year-old. My birthday, only a few days earlier, had been the date when I was finally regarded in most people’s eyes as no longer a child but a man… and yet. Gwyneth had been very rigorous in not allowing any discussion on the matter and just getting on and doing things for me. I may have felt like I was having an opinion but, in just this short space of time, I’d become a kid again. Not only that, I think I was enjoying not having to make decisions or have any responsibilities. I relished wearing diapers. I loved Teddy. I delighted in all the fun and games my sister organised and she was very good at making all this work for me.

“OK, you’ve had a very exciting day but let’s just calm down a little bit… there’s no need to do everything at once,” she said reasonably. “Just rest your eyes for a few minutes and, if you’re still awake when I come back after I’ve finished what I need to do, you can get up.”

It didn’t seem an unfair request and I don’t think it helped my case that I yawned the moment she had me stripped to my diaper. Teddy was still dressed the same and his cuddly arms were beckoning me to join him so, albeit reluctantly, I did just that. I was sure I’d be awake when Gwyneth returned but she patted my diapered bottom, pulled up the loose cover and stroked my hair for a couple of minutes. As I settled down and yawned once more she said that there was one last thing and slipped the paci between my lips. I was suddenly too tired to argue and without so much as a token protest I soothed myself as I dozed off.

[i]I was in a jungle. There were noises of wild creatures everywhere. I was a little bit scared because I heard a rustling behind me. It was the boy from the changing room, dressed in just his cartoon plastic pants and diaper and it was those that were making the noise. He came and stood by my side and we could hear the heavy clomping footsteps of some huge wild animal; it was a chicken dinosaur like I’d had for lunch except this one had real teeth. Both my new friend and I quaked as it drew near and we decided we’d better run for it. At the same time a tribe of about twenty other toddlers came running from the undergrowth to join us.

We set off screaming and running. The noise from our collective crinkling and rustling protection sending the wildlife scattering as we tried to escape the monster that was drawing ever near. We could almost feel its chicken breath on our necks as we powered through the jungle vines. Monkey’s shrieked and fled, snakes looked quizzically, while lions roared as we squealed our way searching for safety. One of the toddlers appeared to know the right direction so led the way. She hacked at the undergrowth and scared away any animal that crossed her path. The rest of us followed, trying to keep up as she shooed a tiger out of the way.

My new friend and I were at the back and we could sense the dinosaur licking its lips in anticipation of having us for a meal. I could feel its teeth brush my head. There it was again, its teeth grazing the top of my head. I was scared but my friend had made some ground in front of me, his colourful waddling plastic covered bottom acting as my guide. “Run, run, run.” I was calling as I thought I was about to be eaten alive.

I was trying to duck out of the way of those ferocious teeth but something flew into my mouth. I was sure I’d just swallowed a huge bug but… but…mmmmm… that tastes nice.[/i]

I slowly came around to find myself sucking on another baby bottle full of some sort of milky formula; it was warm, sweet and tasted nice. When my eyes eventually focused Gwyneth was there holding the bottle and wiping my hair and sweat from my eyes. Neither of us said anything until I’d completely slurped the wonderful drink down. She was smiling and murmuring some kind of tune as if to comfort me, it worked. I looked at the clock and noticed I’d actually been asleep for over ninety minutes, so much for not being tired. Once I’d finished the bottle Gwyneth checked my diaper. She could see the coloured indicator through the clear plastic and knew that I was more than a little damp. I had wet myself once again without being aware of it. In my head I put it down to the scare in the jungle and as Gwyneth set about the change I told her what I remembered of my dream.

She asked me if I’d liked the cartoon plastic pants with poppers that my young friend was wearing and when I gushed more than I should she said that perhaps we should get some for me. I told her about the girl, who was about four or five years-old, who was leading us to safety. She was wearing a short little dress but her thick diaper was clearly visible as she startled all the animals. Her ruffled pink bottom stood out against the green and darkness of the jungle. Again Gwyneth asked if I liked her ruffled panties and, as she sprinkled powder over my groin, I nodded. It was such a clear dream and I was surprised all the elements that had gone into it contained some of my experiences of the day.

I was so intent on telling her about my dream that I hardly noticed I’d been changed. It was amazing how easily I had slipped into this routine such had it quickly become so much part of my day. Once the blue plastic pants were in place Gwyneth seemed happy that I was now ready to play with my new things. I grabbed Teddy and carried him downstairs and we unpacked all the new toys together. He liked the big truck best, so we spent the time making truck noises and building an imaginary road around the house for it to travel on. All the cartoon figures could fit into its back so they were getting transported as well. Teddy had a terrific imagination.

Wearing just ‘protection’ around Gwyneth’s house had become second nature so Teddy and me playing with the toys and crawling around the floor in a thick, comfortable diaper was like being in my own ‘kidzone’. I think I’d have liked some friends to come and join me, any of those from my dream would have been most welcome but for the moment, well, Teddy and my sister would have to make up my playmates. In fact, so immersed were we in our ‘trucking’ game that before we knew it we were being called for our evening meal, cheesy macaroni.

After din-dins (Gwyneth called it that) I sat and coloured in a couple of pages in one of the books we’d bought at the store. This was another thing I’d never done before, well not since I was a kid. Strangely enough, I wanted to do a good job to show to Gwyneth in the hope of her being proud of what I’d achieved. There were numbers as a guide but I tried to do it without their help and I thought I’d done pretty well. Whilst I was doing that Gwyneth sat opposite me on her computer, I don’t know if she was writing stuff or uploading things onto Facebook or YouTube but I asked her if any of the comments had been from people who wanted to be friends, perhaps even someone who lived relatively close. She said she’d check it out and seemed pleased that I wanted to play with fellow diaper wearing ‘kids’.

She told me that the man at the mall, the man who was ‘dada’ to Little Pauly (I never asked his name) was open to the idea that we could have a play date, if I ever wanted one. She’d got his number and wondered if she could arrange it would I like to do that.

Of course I enthusiastically replied. “Yes please.”

“OK, I’ll see what I can do,” she held my hand, “I think you’re ready for the next step.”

I wasn’t sure what step she was referring to but I liked the idea of having a playdate. I carried on colouring in my book until Gwyneth said it was time for bed. I had no idea what time it was but I said I wasn’t tired and started to whine about having to go. Only days ago I chose when I went to bed and now, I was told. However, the look Gwyneth gave me when I started to moan told me to watch out and besides, as she reminded me. “Do you want a play date or not?”

From the tone of her voice I knew it was in jeopardy so sheepishly nodded. “Then you go to bed when I tell you to. No arguments or I just won’t organize it for you.”

I could tell she meant it and stuck my bottom lip out in a spot of sulkiness but she seemed even more determined, “Bed NOW.” So that was the end of any discussion.

A few minutes later she followed me up to my room and made me put on my footer pjs again. I was going to complain about them restricting my ability to go to the bathroom but I thought better of it. Once I was settled down she slipped a rubber teat between my lips and I got another taste of warm milk, she seemed happy to make small talk about the day as I sucked the bottle empty. She talked about all the kids we’d seen and what they’d been wearing. What outfits she thought I’d look cute in and how nice it will be when I had my first friend to play with. I just nodded as I sucked and as soon as I was finished she slipped in the paci and told me to go to sleep. I looked over at the clock and it was only 7.30 but, I was in bed, my diaper was dry, I was comfortable, I’d just had a warm drink so there was little else worth staying up for. It was the first night I slept without Teddy sharing my bed but the footer was very fleecy so I just hugged myself to sleep.

I woke up soaked and a little messy. I wasn’t aware of the mess to begin with but, as I began to move around the bed and get myself up, I realised that there was something more in my diaper. It didn’t feel all liquidy like it had when my bowel exploded the day before but I wasn’t happy sharing my diaper with it. I warily waddled down to the kitchen to get Gwyneth’s help out of my footer and hopefully a change but she was on the phone and there was a bowl of cereal on the table. As she spoke she indicated that I should sit down and have breakfast but I really didn’t want to in the state I was in. I stood at the door waiting for her to finish but she impatiently came over, grabbed my arm and marched me over to my chair and forced me to sit down.

She poured milk into my bowl, and, as she continued her discussion, I think with her literary agent, indicated I should eat. Unenthusiastically, I lifted the first spoonful but I was all too aware of the mushiness that I now sat in. She was still on the phone, typing into her laptop and drinking coffee when I’d finished. I sat quietly wondering what she found to talk about; had she heard from our parents, perhaps spoken to Little Pauly’s dada? She obviously didn’t want me hanging around so shooed me from the table to go and play in the room or sit and watch TV. I didn’t feel I could sit on the sofa in my current condition so lay on my stomach watching the TV which was already tuned to a cartoon channel. I didn’t mind, I’ve always liked cartoons so I quickly got into what was going on.

A little while later Gwyneth called me into the kitchen. Finally, I thought, I can get out of this messy diaper and…

“Oh, erm, hello mommy, er, mom.”

There, Skyped on the laptop screen, was mother looking as elegant as ever and smiling.

“Happy Birthday sweetheart.” She beamed, whilst I felt more than a little uptight about still wearing my pjs.

“Er… thanks mom…” Even though she was several days late I didn’t feel able to take the moral high ground as I was sitting in my own poop.

“Your father and I are thinking of you sweetheart and only sorry we can’t be there to celebrate this special day with you.”

"Oh well, you’re very busy… " I felt guilty myself because I couldn’t even remember which country she was in, although it looked like she was dressed for a party or something.

“I’m sure your sister will make it a memorable occasion for you?” I nodded wondering what she knew.

The large image of mom filled the screen but there was a littler square in the corner containing me. I wondered if she could tell I was wearing kiddie pjs and had a diaper on underneath but my thoughts were interrupted as she brought me back to her.

“OK sweetheart, I have to go as the car has arrived. I’m afraid it will be a couple more weeks before I can get home but Gwyneth will tell you all about that.”

I could hear a voice calling her in the distance. “Happy Birthday again darling, see you soon.”

“Bye mom I…” but the screen went blank and the link died.

I wanted her to tell me why she wasn’t coming home for a while. I wanted to speak longer but the fact that we had spoken filled me with emotion. I’m not sure if it was resentment or what but I felt myself choke up and tears form in my eyes.

Gwyneth came over to comfort me and while I cried into her shoulder she stroked my hair and said that it was “Better late than never.” I suppose she was right but I wish mom and dad had a little bit more time for me and hadn’t forgotten my birthday.

Once I was cried out I told Gwyneth that I was pretty messy and needed a change. She sniffed the air and said she wondered what that odour was, so took my hand and led me upstairs. In the bathroom she helped me out of my footer and checked that my protection had held. It had. She pulled down the plastic pants and saw my poopy problem, so slowly, and with a great deal of care, eased the diaper down making sure the mess stayed in the diaper. Once I was able to step out of it she walked me over to the shower and turned it on. She took the hand shower attachment and sprayed me down with warm water. Once the debris was clear she then said she needed to make sure I was the “cleanest little boy in the world” (I think she was joking and making a little game out of my embarrassment) but now I was clean I was a little more relaxed about it all.

She grabbed a new body gel out of the cabinet, put on a pair of plastic gloves and spread it all over my body. I wasn’t sure why she needed gloves (maybe because I’d been covered in poo and it was a health thing), but after a couple of minutes it started to tingle. She left my body soapy whilst she started shampooing my hair with a different brand. I had to close my eyes because the bubbles were causing them to sting. Shortly after that Gwyneth got hold of a cloth, I still had my eyes closed, but felt her wipe off all the stuff from around my body, especially around my cock and bum hole. Once she was happy all that had been removed I was able to stand under the hot shower and rinse away the shampoo.

I climbed out and Gwyneth was waiting with a huge towel to buff me dry and, although the tingling had eased off, I wondered what the new body wash contained to have such an effect. As usual she dried me thoroughly and guided me to my room and lay me out on my bed. It was only when she started applying some very greasy lotion everywhere I noticed that I no longer had any hair on my body. The few wisps of pubic hair I once had were now gone, so were the fine hairs on my arms and legs and I suddenly panicked that the hair on my head might have also disappeared. I nervously ran my hand over my scalp and was relieved that was still intact.

As Gwyneth made sure every part of my body (and I do mean every part and crevice) got a thorough coating I lay there waiting for an explanation. None was forthcoming and, as I wasn’t sure how to bring the subject up, or what I planned on saying, she simply got on with my re-diapering. The padding was once again thick, the plastic pants were pulled up and tucked around the leg so the diaper was contained and then she pulled another new pale blue shirt over my head. This one had the outline of a duck being followed by three baby ducklings across the front, it was cute. She then produced a very short pair of white shiny nylon shorts, which she shimmied up and over my padding before adding a pair of pale blue socks with little ruffles around the top.

She brushed my hair and once satisfied had me step in front of the mirror. There was no doubt about it I looked more like I was eighteen months rather than eighteen years-old. That strange feeling enveloped me once more and I wasn’t sure if I liked or was horrified by my reflection. The problem I now had was that I didn’t have a choice, Gwyneth had made all the decisions and, as she stroked my hair, told me what a smart and cute looking boy I was, I felt like I was indeed nothing more than a child… her child.


Re: My 18th Birthday 1-6

Part 6

Gwyneth filled me in on what mom and dad were up to. Mom was receiving a very prestigious award, which was why she looked so elegant, and as a result she had to extend her lecture tour for an extra couple of weeks. Dad was still in Seoul working with the Korean’s on the firm’s latest development and that had also been extended. Once mom’s tour was over she was going to join dad in Korea for a little while before returning home. Gwyneth thought dad would be away for even longer than anticipated as progress had been slow at the new overseas suppliers.

“Well Benjy, it looks like you’re going to be with me for some time… hope you don’t mind?” She ruffled my hair and kissed the top of my head.

Meanwhile, I sat and listened to her fill me in on all the news but just wished mom had told it all to me instead of hearing it second hand. I was a still a bit angry at mom rushing here, there and everywhere for everyone else… but not me… and every time I thought about it my chest heaved and I was on the verge of tears. I know not being clever disappointed everyone but I often felt that I didn’t matter that much to my parents, even though I tried not to be… stupid. However, I was also very aware of my little shorts and no matter how I sat (or stood) my diaper could be seen both at the leg holes and above the waistband. I’m sure mom and dad would both have thought I was being just that… stupid if they could see me now. Despite Gwyneth choosing this very childish set of clothes I couldn’t be angry with her because… at least she was here for me… looking after me… helping me… and giving me what I needed. I burst into tears again but this time in gratitude and hugged my sister tightly.

I truly loved the dressing up games that Gwyneth had arranged. I loved the diapers more than I ever thought I would but I knew it couldn’t go on this way, least of all because I was due back at work in the morning. I wasn’t particularly looking forward to returning to a life of stacking shelves and cleaning up the parking lot but that was my job. It felt really weird sitting there dressed as I was and thinking of grown up stuff like work and I wriggled in the comfort of my thick protection wondering if I could get away with wearing it under my green uniform.

Returning to work had never been mentioned but after playing with my truck for a little while I thought I’d better bring up the subject. Gwyneth was deep in thought and fervently typing into her laptop. I wasn’t sure if I should disturb her when she was in her creative zone but I needed her to know. I anxiously hung around the kitchen door waiting for a suitable break so I could ask my question. She looked up.

“God, you do look so damned adorable,” and she beckoned me over, “what does my little Benjy want?”

Oddly enough I hadn’t planned on exactly what to say so when she put her arm around my shoulders and looked into my eyes I was still looking for the right words. I could see she was waiting so I first asked if she had found her story yet.

She let me go, turned to the screen and said. “Yes, I think I’ve got some ideas.” She then patted my bum. “I think you are helping in such a terrific way.” She didn’t say in what way. “I like you being here. I like having my little brother around. I like… well… I like your innocent and uncomplicated approach to life.”

This wasn’t what I was expecting and it threw me a little. I was living a life she had seen for me, a life she controlled and directed, a life, yes, I had to admit, I was enjoying. I loved being ‘little’ and I loved the fact that my big sister wanted me to be happy and have no fears about… well… anything.

Eventually I plucked up the courage to ask her. “Will all this finish tomorrow when I have to go to work?”

Standing in front of Gwyneth, looking like a toddler, I bet she could hardly believe her little brother even had a job but I needed to know.

There was a moments silence before she answered. “Do you want it to?”

I could feel the comfort of my diaper hugging me tightly, the plastic pants gripping my legs, the sweet little shirt with the duckies on and my tiny little shorts all screaming the same answer at me. “NO”.

What I really said was, “I don’t know. I have to work. I have to prove to mom and dad I’m not entirely useless I have to…”

She gently pulled me into her bosom and whilst one hand hugged and stroked my padded bottom the other stroked my hair. It was a lovely soft embrace and I could feel her love and understanding as she soothed my sudden and unexpected tears.

I felt unable to cope. I didn’t want to have to make decisions; I didn’t ever want to make decisions again. I liked it just where I was. I liked living with Gwyneth more than at home where I hardly had anyone to speak with and I just spent my time watching TV and going to work (more to break the boredom than anything else). My parents hardly ever chatted or encouraged me about anything much and was left to my own devices in that big house.

This ‘little’ me was fun; I wasn’t when at home. This ‘little’ me had imagination; I appeared to have none when my parents were around. This ‘little’ me could have friends; and that’s what I wanted more than anything else. I wanted my childhood back and the chance to live those happy times all over again. Gwyneth had given me this opportunity, had identified clearly something I desired and offered it with no strings attached.

Without saying anything, I just knew that Gwyneth understood this and in her gentle embrace I also knew that was exactly what she wanted for me. Strip me down and start again. She may have been surprised at the speed I took to it all but perhaps that was down to the desperate need I felt.

“Benjy, I think you should have what you want,” she paused as my tears turned into hiccups and she patted my back, “and what you need right now is to be ‘little’… because… you are a sweet and completely different boy when you are… and I love it… and love you.”

My tears eventually dried up but Gwyneth still held me tenderly. I didn’t want to break away but I still didn’t have an answer.

“Can I please stay in my diapers with you and Teddy?” In my head it was a strong question but it came out as a childish, unsure whisper.

Gwyneth smiled. “I think that would be for the best. Don’t you worry about anything I’ll sort it out with the store manager. Your job now is to be a little boy who’s out to have fun and be happy.”

A shiver of relief and excitement ran through my body and I hugged my wonderful big sister even more fervently.

Gwyneth called me and said we were going out. Teddy and I had been having battles with our little cartoon characters which featured imaginary dinosaurs and dragons… I wondered if Gwyneth would get me some.

“Where are we going?” I asked as I eagerly rushed to my sister’s side as she grabbed her bag and car keys.

“I don’t want you to stay inside on such a lovely day so we’re off to the park.”

Although I was keen to go out myself I realised that the nearby park may well have people I know enjoying the sunshine and wondered what they might think of the way I was dressed. I’d gotten used to it now but thought my diaper would act like a beacon to anyone who wanted to mock or generally be unkind. Again any thoughts and doubts I may have had were demolished as Gwyneth grabbed my hand and led me out to the car. I didn’t want her to think I was scared of the consequences but I was.

I should have known my sister wouldn’t have put me in a situation to embarrass me as we drove for quite some time before we ended up at a park I’d never been to before. Once she’d parked up we got out and she opened the trunk to reveal that she had brought a picnic and in amongst the basket, blanket and chairs were a few of my toys and a ball. This was a terrific surprise and I smiled and helped her carry all the stuff towards a little picnic area where another man and boy were already sitting.

As we got closer I realised that it was actually Little Pauly and his dada. Pauly was wearing a huge monkey face on his white t-shirt and his little red shorts had monkeys climbing all around, all this was set off by bright red plastic sandals, which I thought looked fantastic and wanted a pair. Gwyneth and ‘dada’ greeted each other with air kisses and I was formally introduced to him.

“This is my little brother Benjy,” I shyly nodded at the man, “This is Pauly’s dada Mr Peak.”

“Erm, er, hello sir,” was all I could say as he smiled at me and let go of Pauly’s hand.

“I think we should let the little ones go and play… don’t you?” Mr Peak said to Gwyneth who nodded in agreement.

With that Pauly grabbed my hand and led me towards a little sandpit near the swings. He’d already started building a sandcastle and his bucket, spade, flags, toys and an assortment of other colourful shapes lay around.

His little voice encouraged me to start to build my own castle and it wasn’t long before I’d got the start of a huge complex going and Pauly was organising a road between the two buildings. Like me, every time he moved his protection could be seen. Like mine his shorts were very short and the pink plastic protection he wore to hold his diaper was thick and shiny and once again I thought they looked fantastic and wanted some.

We were getting on really well. We giggled a lot as the entire sandpit became our kingdom where we were building villages and stuff everywhere. He’d even brought a couple of plastic dragons (I assumed from the castle he’d bought at the toys store) and it was brilliant as we got carried away and let our imaginations run wild.

We were called to eat and I noticed that dada spoon fed Pauly all his food. In between every fifth spoonful he held up the sippy cup for him to drink but, even with his Winnie The Pooh bib in place, he was a messy eater. His dada was continually wiping smudges of sauce or crumbs from his face but Pauly was enjoying the picnic and none of this bothered him at all.

We appeared to be the only people in the park and after we’d eaten we sat in the shade under a tree. Dada hugged Pauly and gently rocked him as he fell asleep for an afternoon nap but I was wide awake. I wanted to carry on playing on the swing or in the sandpit but Gwyneth said to rest and I didn’t think I could defy her so, nestling in her arms I sat quietly and before long had dozed of myself.

I woke up to see Pauly in the middle of being changed. Right in front of both Gwyneth and me his dada had pulled down his shorts, unpopped his plastic pants and removed his soggy diaper. Like me Pauly had no hair down there, but there was a little piece of plastic locked around his pee-pee. I wasn’t sure what that was for but I suppose it kept everything neat and tidy. All through the process Pauly was sucking on a red pacifier that looked like it had a huge smile on it. That looked funny and I giggled as Gwyneth checked my diaper.

I was soaked without being aware of it so Gwyneth laid me side by side with Pauly and began my change. Being naked in the sun was a nice feeling but I wasn’t sure I wanted an audience. However, I remembered the young boy at the mall and he had no worries about being changed in public, so I tried not to let it bother me. Gwyneth popped in my paci as she wiped and powdered me and within seconds I was wrapped in a new diaper with extra padding (I had wet a lot) and once the plastic pants had been pulled into place we boys were left to play on the blanket for a bit.

However, Pauly wanted to get back to our castles and he wandered over wearing no shorts. His dada sort of shrugged and continued his conversation with Gwyneth and I was allowed to join him. Wearing just our padding was revealing but neither of the adults seemed to care. Gwyneth thought the plastic pants should be enough protection from getting our diapers full of sand so pretty soon we were left to play on our own whilst the adults did whatever it was that adults do. We were so into our game we didn’t even notice them.

We’d played for hours; swinging on the swings, building in the sandpit, chasing each other, kicking a ball about and we were both hot, sweaty and tuckered out when told it was home time. Pauly collected all his toys then together we jumped on our creations pretending we were giants in a mad, fun rampage of destruction that had us both roaring and laughing in equal measure.

Once our castles had been reduced back to sand Pauly rushed to his dada who checked him once more before being satisfied he was dry enough to travel. He helped him back into his monkey shorts and then, hand in hand, said their goodbyes and headed for their car. Gwyneth hugged me and asked if I’d had a fun day and I had to admit it had been super, in fact it had been super fabulous. Before I put on my shorts Gwyneth checked me but I was still dry. She tried to pull up my shorts but with all the extra padding that proved difficult so I was driven home wearing just my bulky protection. Every time we passed a truck I wondered if the driver could see into our car and know what I had on… and if he did, what he thought.

Once home I hugged Teddy and apologised for not taking him with us. He was still dressed the same as me so we just slipped back into our game where we left off. Meanwhile, Gwyneth had opened her laptop and was typing furiously. I was hoping that she had been inspired by our day out. However, time just flew by and before long she said it was time to have a bath and get ready for bed.

Whilst she bathed me we talked about the day and I said how much I’d enjoyed it. I told her how much I liked Pauly’s clothes, especially his red plastic sandals… and his monkeys… and his pink plastic pants… in fact everything. She asked if I’d noticed the little plastic thing on his pee-pee. I nodded so she asked if I knew what it was. I shook my head.

“Well, er, it’s there to stop him from, er, getting over excited.” I looked blankly up at her. “It prevents him from getting…” She was finding it difficult to find the words but in the end blurted out, “getting hard.”

I looked surprised.

“His dada doesn’t like him to be anything but a toddler and doesn’t want him to have to worry about… grown up things…” she carried on explaining.

I think this must have been all part of the deep conversations they were having whilst we went off and played.

“Is it something you’d like?” I wasn’t sure if she was hopeful or wondering and to be truthful I wasn’t sure either, so I just shrugged and went back to playing with my toy boats.

After the bath Gwyneth diapered me up and pulled on my plastic pants. She was about to fit me into my footer when I told her I was too hot and pointed to Teddy, who was back sitting on my bed, and asked if I could I sleep like he was. Gwyneth seemed happy with this arrangement and gave me a bottle of strawberry milk to drink to help me sleep. She stayed with me until I’d sucked down the lot, chatting away about this and that and just before I was left to go to sleep she told me that her latest story was coming along nicely and she’d already written the dedication at the front. She said she had two and I had to decide which I liked best.

THANKS TO MY BROTHER BENJAMIN FOR HIS INSPIRATION
Or
THANKS TO MY LITTLE BROTHER BENJY FOR HIS CONSTANT INSPIRATION

I thought for a moment and then said, “The second.”

I fell asleep happy and proud. It was only 7.15 on my bedside clock but I was out like a light it had been such a hectic day.


Re: My 18th Birthday 1-7

Part 7

With no job to worry about I slept right through until Gwyneth came in to wake me. Unfortunately my diaper couldn’t have been any wetter and had leaked slightly, the plastic pants not quite doing their function of containing all the moisture. There was a little pool of dampness on my bottom sheet and I was worried that I would be punished for making more washing. My initial thought was that I might get a spanking for wetting the bed. However, Gwyneth just raised her eyebrows and said that there was no harm done because she’d thought ahead and put a rubber sheet to protect the mattress “Just in case”. Why I should have thought I might get spanked I’m not too sure because getting disciplined wasn’t something that had ever happened before. Well, except for once, when I’d done something that had infuriated dad and he couldn’t contain his anger.

[i]I was seven at the time and had accidently pulled a wire out of something daddy was using to transmit a large, important report to head office. I’d been transfixed by an intense little rainbow that had appeared on his study wall. It looked beautiful, it was so bright and pretty that I’d wanted to take a closer look and in so doing I hadn’t noticed that I’d pulled one of the leads out of the machine. When dad wondered why his report hadn’t gone and saw the wire hanging out he went ballistic. When he asked me if I’d been in his study and I answered yes because I wanted to look at a pretty rainbow his anger was unleashed.

I didn’t get a chance to explain further as my shorts came down and he spanked me for ages calling me awful things with every strike; “useless”, “hopeless”, “stupid”, “incompetent”, “a moron”… the rant went on and my bottom took the full force of his rage. There was no way my crying or saying sorry a thousand times helped the situation daddy only stopped when he got tired.[/i]

I still fill up and shiver at the memory.

[i]Still bawling my eyes out he sent me to my room with instructions to go to bed and not move until he said otherwise. I was so terrified that’s just what I did and I was still crying when Gwyneth came home from school. She heard my sobbing and came in to see what the matter was. She was horrified at what daddy did but took some of the hurt away when she explained the rainbow phenomenon. She told me about sunlight and glass, and as dad had a prism on his desk, the sunlight coming in and striking it had formed the wonderful rainbow. I still didn’t comprehend how a rainbow could be formed from glass but I was in wonder at Gwyneth as she then went on to tell me the biblical reason for the rainbow. She was a very clever girl and I thought my sister knew everything so by the time she left my room I’d calmed down. However, mommy was home by then and she wasted no time in telling her what daddy had done.

Mommy was furious. She hated violence of any kind, and made him promise never to do it again. Unfortunately, that night I wet the bed. Every time I closed my eyes all I saw was daddy on the rampage and I was scared. When mommy found me cowering in my own pee the following morning she was very understanding but knew how to deal with the problem. Oddly enough she still had some disposables in a closet from when I was five and had wet the bed. She immediately put me in diapers and I wore them day and night for over a week.

Once again they acted as a comfort rather than punishment and I was happy to run around the house dressed like that. On one occasion I heard daddy say to her that I was acting like a two year-old, and added through gritted teeth, I was more sensible at that age. That spanking had a major effect on my young life because, being constantly anxious at home, and worrying I’d do the wrong thing, made sure I kept out of daddy’s way as much as I could. At one point he wanted to send me away to a Military school but mummy wouldn’t have it. However, he didn’t like to see me sulk around the house so, worrying that I might be sent away, I always tried to be ‘happy’.[/i]

Anyway, my sister seemed to be well ahead on what to do about a boy who wets the bed, which I put down to her being a writer. I knew she researched everything thoroughly before even starting to put pen to paper so assumed that’s where her information came from. Indeed, when I shamefacedly looked up from the damp patch up to Gwyneth she smiled.

“All I need to know for what my little brother needs is on the net,” and dragged the damp sheet off the bed.

“It said this might happen…” and she ruffled my hair and grinned. “It’s only a bit of washing so don’t worry. I’ll keep you better protected from now on”

She carried the sheet away and, for the moment, I was left standing in a very soggy diaper, in the middle of the room, waiting for her to return to change me. I went over to Teddy to check his diaper but he’s a clever bear and was still very dry. At that moment I wished I was a dry bear.

I heard the doorbell ring and wondered who was visiting. I thought it might be Pauly come to play or someone else who Gwyneth had found online. It was the mailman delivering a large package, which Gwyneth brought upstairs for me to watch her open. She seemed as excited as I was to see the contents as she slit the tape and opened the box. It was a special delivery that she’d ordered earlier online and it was a fantastic array of new clothes, diapers, plastic pants and other things.

She’d made sure I had a pair of shortalls with the poppers, as well as plastic pants with poppers, thicker rubber pants she’d read I might need at a future date. There were a couple of short onesies, another footer, shortie pjs, shorts with matching jumpers and shirts, she’d gone mad and bought loads of really nice stuff. I couldn’t wait to try it all on but first I had to get rid of the sagging soaked diaper I was wearing.

Once she’d got me all cleaned up the first thing she tried on me was a lovely soft thick fabric diaper. It was much softer and thicker than anything I’d had before and once it was pinned in place felt wonderful to wear. She slipped over a pair of popper plastic pants but the diaper was too huge so she ended up pulling up a large pair of see-thru plastic pants. It was massive but very comfortable although it made walking very difficult. It was decided by Gwyneth that from now on that would be what I would be wearing for bed. She was of the opinion that even I couldn’t flood the size of that diaper in one night… she giggled and jokily warned me that I shouldn’t try.

We tried everything on to make sure it fit and anything that was a little on the large size would fit if I had more padding. I was in my element changing and trying stuff on, well, in truth, Gwyneth dressed me, took me to the mirror for my reaction and then tried me in something else, or a combination of new things. We were at it for ages before I realised I hadn’t had any breakfast, so, Gwyneth put me in a fresh disposable, let me wear the new popper sided pink plastic pants over it and we went down for brunch.

The next few days were fantastic. We went and met up with Dada Peak and Pauly at various locations and had a brilliant time. Pauly’s style was rubbing off on me and I found myself using his ‘toddler talk’ more and more when I spoke to anyone. He was fun to be with but never really left his dada’s side for very long. His dada was constantly attending to his snotty nose, his wet diaper, his messy hair and always making sure that Pauly was tidy, dry and happy.

One night before bed Gwyneth told me that Pauly was twenty-five, had been with Dada Peak for over ten years and he’d been a toddler all that time. His dada loved having his ‘little soldier’ to look after and had told her that he couldn’t imagine life without him. I’m sure that Gwyneth and Dada Peak had long conversations about all manner of subjects but that was all she would tell me, although she did mention that there were quite a few ABDLs (again I wasn’t sure what that was), you know, ‘others’, in the area and Dada Peak would introduce us, if and when, I wanted to.

I was incredibly comfy. My new huge fluffy diaper was pinned in place, the plastic pants were holding me tightly and Gwyneth had just said that magic word, which immediately got my attention.

“Others?” I asked in amazement.

Of course I wanted to meet others. In my head I imagined hordes of us, not unlike my jungle dream, toddlers and kids wearing our protection and playing games, running wild, building LEGO, and painting pictures… oh… I was so excited at the prospect I couldn’t wait. I hoped that the ten year-old boy from the changing room would be there because I liked his smile.

A few days later Gwyneth mentioned that she had to go and meet with her publisher; apparently the movie company had arranged the finances for ‘Smart Moves’ and now wanted to ‘action the script’ and discuss any changes. However, she said that I couldn’t join her because she didn’t know how long she’d be and couldn’t give me her undivided attention. However, she gave me an alternative and hoped I liked the idea. She would drop me off at Dada Peak’s and Pauly’s house and collect me on her way home… that was if I didn’t mind her not being around. She also thought I might have a brilliant time because apparently, Dada Peak had designed the house around Pauly’s needs and that included a huge play area that went from the inside and out into the garden.

“Room for loads of kids to have fun” she enthused, “and besides you two get on so well.”

I was a bit worried not having my sister there but I understood why I couldn’t go and besides, I’d be bored sitting around all day. It was a busy time for her, what with the movie and her new novel well underway, so I realised that I couldn’t be the centre of her world all the time. I think I agreed to going, although, when I think about it, perhaps it had already been decided. Anyway, I was happy to be spending time with Pauly and it would be exciting to visit his home. I asked if there might be ‘others’ there. She said she didn’t know but, well, maybe? That was all the encouragement I needed.

There was a group of about a dozen grown-ups looking on and all of them were laughing, commenting and jeering at us. We were trying our best to be good but nothing we did seemed to please them. We were all in this large play area; Pauly was there wearing only a diaper with a cartoon monkey on the front, sat in a puddle and crying. There were two other boys Ricky and Kim; Ricky was blubbing because he didn’t like the pretty little dress he had to wear (he couldn’t hide his thick diaper when he tried to pull it down), whilst Kim was head to toe in a spotted onesie but he had a little waggly tail and his head was covered in a doggy mask. The grown-ups were making him sit up and beg, roll over and do tricks, which he was finding difficult in his restricting onesie. There were two girls (I didn’t know their names) one in a ruffled pink rubber dress with enormously bulky matching panties and one in a similar black costume but both had gags in their mouths that looked like pacifiers. There were also four babies crawling around wearing only ultra-thick diapers, colourful pacis and bonnets.

I knew I’d made a mistake. Without Gwyneth there to look after me I was now just one of ‘the others’ and I was at the mercy of what the grown-ups wanted. I know I was unhappy. My diaper was soaked through but every time I thought I’d be changed, one of the daddies or mommies would simply add a new diaper over the old one. I had this massive bulky thing now that made moving at all very difficult and I’d messed myself. I was sobbing, I was dirty and it was all my own fault for wanting to be a kid again.

“Stoopid, stoopid, stoooooopid,” I was so angry with myself for letting it happen. I was rapping my knuckles on my forehead, shouting and scowling at myself because I just couldn’t believe how stupid I’d been.

I know I’m not the brightest person in the world but I should have caught on sooner and I wouldn’t be in the mess, literally, that I was now… sitting in with my thick diaper stuck to my body. I disliked immensely the way the poop stuck to everything and made me feel both dirty and queasy. It didn’t help that I was being chastised for being “A dirty little baby” and made to feel that was all that I would ever achieve.

Banging my head wasn’t helping as it hurt. I sat shaking in my pile of poo unable to do much else and began, as I so often did these past few days, to cry. No doubt I looked the picture of abject misery but, this is what the people had wanted and they were getting just that from my current display.

I tried to escape but I simply couldn’t move, the grown-ups were advancing and I was, I was, I was…

“Help me,” I screamed

Someone was rubbing my shoulder. “Wake up Benjy.”

I was too scared to even open my eyes.

“Come on Benjy,” he continued to gently shake my shoulder, “you’ve having a bad dream.”

Eventually I forced myself to take in what was going on around me. Dada Peak’s face was looking concerned as he gently roused me from sleep.

“You poor thing,” his voice was very soothing, “with all that crying and screaming you must have been having a terrible dream.”

Effortlessly he picked me up, hugged me to his chest and rubbed my back. Slowly my perception of what was going on returned and I realised I’d been asleep and had an awful nightmare. As Dada Peak continued to reassure that all was well, I was able to look around and noticed that Pauly was standing in his crib, wearing a pink and blue onesie (that really showed off his thick diaper), clutching a plushie, although the paci couldn’t hide his look of concern.

Dada Peak was making calming noises as I slowly came back from my horrible dream-inspired ordeal and it was very noticeable that my crib was a complete mess. Blankets and toys were strewn everywhere and there was a huge damp patch. My diaper must have been sodden but that wasn’t worrying Dada Peak, he just wanted to comfort a little chap who was frightened. As I realized it had all been a dream I hugged him back and nuzzled his neck in thanks.

“Are you OK now?” That look of concern made me feel safe. I nodded. “Your mommy, er, Gwyneth, isn’t back yet but she has called and said she will be with us soon.”

He patted my padded bottom and scrunched up his nose. “I think someone needs a change.”

In Pauly’s nursery there was everything; he even had other cribs in case anyone stayed over. There was a huge changing station with powders and lotions arranged along shelves, whilst piles of different coloured disposables filled every other space. There was another, smaller stack of plastic and rubber diaper covers to keep everything suitably in place, look good and leak proof.

Dada Peak was very efficient, he had me out of my soaked diaper, wiped, cleaned, lotioned, powdered and wrapped in a thick, thick disposable in just a matter of seconds. I thought Gwyneth was fast but Dada Peak was superfast. Once he’d finished, by snapping me into a thick pair of cream coloured rubber pants, he once again effortlessly lifted me up and slipped me into the crib with Pauly. The concern on his face had changed to a smile and it wasn’t just the grinning image on his paci, he seemed happy I was OK and not traumatised. As Dada Peak set about cleaning up the messy crib I’d recently vacated I settled down with Pauly who inched up close and put his arms around me; his soft onesie and thick diaper rubbing up against my padding being very reassuring. Pauly pushed his plushie into my hands as comfort whilst I lay there and began to think why I should have had such a dream.

I could hear Pauly softly sucking on his paci whilst he snuggled up closer to my back and wished I’d also had one. Thankfully, Dada Peak was on my wave-length and surreptitiously slipped one between my lips, which I gladly accepted.

Being quite sleepy and trying to work out why I’d had such a terrifying dream was proving difficult, although it may have been down to the fact that I’d seen a few disturbing images about diaper wearers on Gwyneth’s laptop. It is perhaps strange that after that first day of appearing on Facebook and YouTube, and receiving all those comments, once Gwyneth had taken charge I was no longer bothered by it all. In fact, I hadn’t looked at either site since, except, and I know this was naughty of me, I looked the day before when I thought I might be meeting ‘others’ on this visit. I wanted to know who might be around and my curiosity led me to a site I wished I hadn’t seen. I hadn’t told Gwyneth what I’d done but obviously, those images had come back to haunt me right when I didn’t want them to.

Pauly cuddled up even closer and our rhythmic sucking was in perfect sync, which made me drop off again. It hardly seemed moments before I was being woken up again but this time it was the gentle voice of Gwyneth. I could hear her saying to Dada Peak that perhaps she should leave me until morning as I looked so peaceful. However, once I heard her voice I opened my eyes and reached out to her. She bent into the crib and kissed me whilst stroking my brow.

“Hello baby brother,” she cooed, “do you want to stay or shall I take you home?”

Woozily I roused myself and stood up in the crib leaving Pauly sucking gently in a deep and undisturbed sleep. He was on his tummy and his huge protection billowed out from his onesie making a massive padded hill out of his bottom. He looked serene and content. I thanked Dada Peak for a wonderful day, for looking after and changing me with a giggly kiss, which he seemed to appreciate. Then, hand in hand, Gwyneth led me to her car and we drove home.

I was still quite sleepy so we didn’t talk much though I could tell she was excited about something but it would have to wait. I fell asleep on the journey home and the next thing I remember is waking up in my own bed with Teddy smiling down on me.


Re: My 18th Birthday 1-8 end

Part 8 Final

I was still only wearing the disposable and popper rubber pants that Dada Peak had put me in as I wondered down to the kitchen. As usual, Gwyneth was typing away at her laptop with a huge mug of coffee not far from her grasp. My bowl was set out with a choice of cereal boxes arranged for my selection. The biggest surprise was that I was dry, I hadn’t woken up dry for what seemed like ages but, well, wonders will never cease.

“Morning sweetie,” She said with a smile in her voice but without really looking up from the screen, “What would you like for breakfast?”

“Morning, er, it’s OK I’ll just have some of these,” I replied as I emptied some Crunchy Nuts into my animal bowl.

“Did you have a good time at Pauly’s… I bet you had a great time…?”

I swallowed a huge mouthful and made an enthusiastic “Mmmming” sound that I hoped indicated it had been fun.

She looked up then and said “Well, you can tell me all about it and then I’ll tell you all my news.” She smiled and then added, as if it was an afterthought, “Oh… and we need to go into town today to see Mr Benson.”

I nodded but wondered why we had to go and see the family lawyer but, as it would not really concern me (nothing to do with Mr Benson ever did), I assumed dad or mom must need some legal document or advice.

I was quite animated as I told Gwyneth about my day. About the fabulous home that was like an adventure playground. Every toy, every plushie, every, well everything a boy could possibly want, he had and we had a great time playing together. I had been a bit disappointed that there had been no ‘others’ there but because we had loads to play with, and Dada Peak was full of games and ideas, the lack of any more boys charging around wasn’t an issue. Out in the garden was a little pool that we played in for most of the hot afternoon, having fun using his WaterBlaster and Supersoaker guns to do just that… soak each other. We were running around in our diapers quite freely to begin with but by the end our thick diapers had proved themselves to be Superabsorbers and had swelled to such an extent that running became impossible.

Lying next to each other Dada Peak changed us both and I couldn’t help seeing the little thing Pauly wore over his pee-pee (yes I’d started calling it that as well). Dada Peak saw me looking and said that it was just a little plastic protector to keep his boy safe but I could see there was a small lock keeping it in place. He even asked if I wanted to try one but I nervously shook my head and no more was said. Once we were all dry and dressed (all my clothes had got a real soaking so I was only wearing a thick diaper) we had a fantastic meal , which was more like a party, all his stuffed animals were sat at the table and we chatted with them as we ate everything that Dada Peak had prepared.

After that we were too stuffed to run around so after a bit of TV, and as it was getting late, were both given a bottle and put into separate cribs. I thought I wasn’t tired so was provided with some toys but pretty soon I fell asleep and had my awful dream.

I was worried about telling Gwyneth anything regarding my nightmare in case she was angry with me for using her laptop without permission but I thought Dada Peak might say something so I’d better mention it. As I began to tell her she said that Dada Peak had said something about me crying in my sleep but hadn’t told her what had caused it. He didn’t know but I explained it the best I could and where I’d seen the images. After I’d told her everything she had a frown on her face and was shaking her head in disapproval.

“Well, perhaps that will teach a little boy for snooping around in things he shouldn’t.”

“I’m sorry,” I said in a quiet chasten voice. I couldn’t face her reprimand just then so I looked at my empty bowl and hoped she wouldn’t be too angry at me.

“I suppose that’s taught you a lesson…” I just nodded still not daring to look up. “Perhaps you’ll talk to me first before you go exploring?”

Again I just nodded and wriggled uncomfortably in my rapidly flooding diaper.

“OK,” she said getting up from the table, “I suppose no harm is done just a bit of a fright but,” and she was being quite intense, “there are people out there who are not nice to little boys like you and we have to look out for them.”

My body trembled at the thought and I messed as well as wet myself.

Just as she was about to launch into further warnings I think the smell hit her and she just grabbed my hand and led me upstairs.
“C’mon you stinky little tyke, I think we’d better get you changed.” She didn’t seem so mad now so I eagerly ran (quickly waddled) up to the bathroom, un-popped the rubber pants, slipped down the diaper and rushed into the shower.

Back in my room Gwyneth had all the things ready except this time it was a pair of briefs, long pants, and a shirt and tie all of which I hadn’t worn for what seemed like ages.

“We’re going to see Mr Benson so I don’t think your cartoon t-shirt and shorts are appropriate,” she said matter-of-factly.

My bottom lip quivered a little as I didn’t want to wear big boys clothes, I liked my stuff, I even suggested the shortalls as they were fairly grown-up but she wouldn’t have it. I pleaded with her to let me wear a diaper at least and after some thought she agreed. She powdered and slipped me into a disposable then pulled it tightly into place. I asked her if I could wear the pink plastic pants as they would go with the tie she’d picked out for me to wear. A smile spread across her face as she reluctantly agreed.

Soon I was a big boy on the outside but nice and little on the inside where my slightly padded and crinkly bottom meant I was at my happiest.

As we drove into town Gwyneth told me all the latest news… the main fact being that mom had been offered a position at a University in Korea and, as dad looked like he’d be almost permanently working there, she accepted the job. This meant that, for the near future, and possibly years, they would be living over there. In the meantime, my sister had agreed to house me because our big family house was going to be put up for sale. I was shocked and wondered how all this could happen without any reference to me but then I wiggled about in my thick diaper and realized the reason why. So, this was why we were going to see Mr Benson, to sort out all the legalities of the sale in my parent’s absence.

Although I was in shock I was also pleased that I was at least going to be able to stay with Gwyneth, the last few weeks had been the best and I loved being with her. The trouble now was that I never wanted to be a big boy again, even for a couple of hours it was a strain and for some strange reason I began to sniffle, which quite unexpectedly turned into a huge tearful outburst. I couldn’t explain to her why I was in such a state although I suspect she thought the idea of not living at home, surrounded by my things was proving to be too traumatic.

I’d just about cried myself out when we arrived at Mr Benson’s office. He was a very officious man and reminded me so much of dad that he quiet scared me.

“Good morning Gwyneth,” and shook her hand. “Morning Benjamin,” and shook mine.

I was very apprehensive about meeting him as I felt way out of my depth to form any sort of conversation so I just nodded as he offered us both a seat.

Gwyneth and he talked about the sale of the house and agreed that all the furniture was to be put into storage until they returned home. There was quite a bit more legal chatter but I’d tuned out and was counting the diplomas on the wall and then the number of people in the photographs that surrounded us. I wasn’t listening and would much rather have been with Teddy enjoying a roll around the rug in my bedroom. That’s what I was thinking about when I suddenly realized I was being spoken to.

“Benjamin. Benjamin.” Mr Benson was looking at me.

“Sorry,” I said as I came out of my happy revelry to see a very serious face.

“Benjamin, your mother and father had wanted to be here for this but, well, it seems that’s impossible now.” He waved a sheet of paper in my direction.

“You have reached the age of eighteen and… you are now legally entitled to a trust fund that was set up by your grandfather when you were born.”

He waited until this news sunk in but it didn’t. I had no idea about a trust fund, no one had ever spoken about it and, more to the point, never knew my grandfather as he died when I was just a few months old… so why would he leave me such a thing?

I think he could see that this news had come out of the blue and no one had prepared me to receive such information. I looked at Gwyneth for guidance.

“Sorry Benjy… er Benjamin I’d forgotten all about it until mom reminded me last night. Whilst you were asleep mom called and told me about the job, dad, house and… well… your trust fund.”

I still didn’t grasp what was going on but I knew I was anxious because I felt a spurt of pee fill the front of my diaper.

Mr Benson took up the story. “Your paternal grandfather put money into a trust fund for both you and your sister; Gwyneth received hers on her eighteenth so now you also get yours.” He smiled, which looked strange on such a serious face. “You are now, thanks to some clever investments that he also tied in with the fund, worth approximately one point one million,” I think he was expecting some kind of reaction and when one didn’t come he persisted with the news. “Which makes you a very rich teenager.”

Both he and Gwyneth were all smiles but all I did was fill my diaper even more. I couldn’t control the flow and I was so glad I’d asked for my pink protecting plastic pants. I still wasn’t completely aware of what all this meant other than they both appeared very happy with the news. Mr Benson pushed some papers my way for me to sign and before too long, and after another shake of hands, we were out in the street and on our way home.

As we aimed for the car Gwyneth could tell from my walk that I was probably wet but, as she hadn’t brought her normal changing bag, told me I’d have to wait until we got home.

I didn’t mind although it did feel funny having an expanded diaper under my smart trousers and I began to giggle at the sensation. Back in the car and sitting in a squishy diaper I had to ask.

“What just happened?” I was trying to weigh things up but it wasn’t making any sense.

“You have inherited a fortune.” She was being serious.

“But… erm… I don’t know… erm… but why… I haven’t done anything?” I was unsure how to react and it still seemed stupid that I should suddenly have money.

“Because little bro… thankfully… someone thought ahead.”

“But I don’t want all that money. What would I do with it?” I mumbled to myself. “I’m not clever like you so, maybe, you should have it.”

She could see I was in turmoil and smiled and patted my leg. “Don’t worry about it for the time being, we can sort it out later. The only thing you need to think about is… you can be little for as long as you like now.”

Despite the fact that I was dressed in big boy clothes it hadn’t occurred to me that I wouldn’t be able to return to being little. In such a relatively short time I’d got so used to the way things were and that I regarded being little as… well… me. It was normal and dressed as I was now was the strange thing. I was desperate to get back home, get out of my long pants and get changed. Maybe Gwyneth would let me wear that nice green and pink onesie with the rocket on the front.

Once home I was in a hurry to race upstairs and change but Gwyneth called me back and made me sit at the table as she wanted to discuss things with me whilst I was still a ‘big boy’.

“Sweetie, I need you to concentrate just for a little while, OK?” Despite my soggy diaper reminding me what I’d done in Mr Benson’s office I nodded as I could see she was serious.

“You now have lots of money. Money you can do anything with but perhaps, thinking ahead, you can leave where it is and take some income from it.”

She looked to see if I was clear about what she was saying but all I could think about was getting an electric train set and some more toys. I wanted to have some of the things Pauly had… and he had loads of stuff. I knew a million was a lot but the number simply didn’t mean anything to me. Although Gwyneth wanted me to think about the future, all I wanted to do was play and live right now. In the end I think Gwyneth knew she was making very little sense to me as I kept asking if I could now get this or that or something else, which she said I could if I wanted.

The previous ‘happy’ look on her face changed to one of concern. She looked into my eyes and asked in a low voice.

“Oh baby, you might not want to be little for ever. You might meet someone…”

She was having problems and I didn’t understand why. We were going to be living together; she would take care of me, she would use the money as she saw fit, she would keep me…

“Sweetheart, things might change…” I wriggled uncomfortable now in my soaked diaper thinking I needed that change. “I want you to be happy but there are so many things I can see that might get in the way.”

It was her turn to look unsure of what was going to happen.

“The movie is going ahead and they want me around to advise but, as production doesn’t start for a few of months…”

She sighed deeply and then held out her hand. “But, for the time being at least, let’s get you cleaned up and changed.”

We walked to the stairs.

“My baby brother is all that matters for the moment and he needs a new outfit.”

I scrambled the last few stairs and ran to my room. I picked out the onesie as I was pulling down my long pants and shucking off my tie.

“My you are keen.” She un-popped my plastic pants and opened up my wet diaper.

I giggled as I lay there naked.

Seconds later I was lotioned, powdered, diapered and in my brand new onesie. We looked in the mirror. Gwyneth held my hand and I felt the years roll away. I was safe and happy and I loved the reflection of the sweet little boy who was looking so cute.

I looked up at her and said “Thank You Mommy”.


The End

Re: My 18th Birthday 1-8 end

:angel: What a great story I can’t wait for you next one?? 8)

Re: My 18th Birthday 1-8 end

Nice story you’ve writen ^ω^

Re: My 18th Birthday 1-8 end

:wink: Thanks for your comments (and that you liked the story) I really appreciate that fact you’ve taken the trouble. :smiley:

Re: My 18th Birthday 1-8 end

Well thank you babyjennie for those kind words and hugs right back at ya :smiley:

Re: My 18th Birthday 1-8 end

Lovely story, very wel written[emoji106]

Re: My 18th Birthday 1-8 end

Thanks tbjoel and to everyone one else for taking the time to read my story. :wink: