“Mummy, I am not a baby”. The figure stretched out on the table wailed as the front of his nappy was brought up between his legs and fastened with pins on each hip. “But, my darling, that’s exactly what you are! I woke up in a wet bed this morning and your pyjamas were sodden. I’ve now got to change the bed and wash the bedding. It will be much easier if I only have to change you.” With that Sally pulled a pair of large, rustly pants up over the nappy and ensured that they were fitting snugly round Tom’s waist and thighs. “There now, you can have a rest while I attend to the washing”, Sally said as she turned away leaving the hapless Tom securely fixed to the changing table.
As he lay there pondering his situation Tom decided that he would show Sally that he was not a baby. He wouldn’t need to use the nappy and all would be well when she came back to unstrap him from the table and let him take off this ridiculous garb he was now wearing. With that in mind he relaxed and dozed off to dream of being on the beach. The only thing spoiling his dream was that in it he was wearing the nappy and the plastic pants. He was sitting by Sally in her swimsuit – and very lovely she looked too – when the first little wave trickled up the sand and around him. Somehow it crept inside his nappy and he was conscious of the wet around his bottom. He continued to sleep but awoke with Sally poking her fingers into his plastic pants. “So, who said he wasn’t a baby?” Sally asked. “You have wet your nappy while you slept.” With that, Sally slid the plastic pants down over Tom’s hips and removed them from his ankles. Tom was lying there wearing nothing but a wet nappy unable to move and his cheeks were bright red, burning with embarassed shame. Sally undid the two safety pins and laid them to one side. She eased the wet towelling from under his hips and, rolling it into a ball put it into a bucket she had placed conveniently at one end of the table. Taking a couple of scented baby wipes from the pack she cleaned down the area between his thighs and up round his tummy. A clean nappy went under his bottom and, after the application of ointment and powder (both highly scented), was fixed once more with the safety pins. On went the plastic pants again but this time they had a fine chain alongside the elastic of the waistband and Sally tightened it up joining the two ends with a small padlock which she clicked shut. “There now,” cooed Sally, “You won’t be able to take your nappy off and I can let you down off the changing table.” She undid the restraints and handed Tom a T-shirt , a pair of rather brief shorts, a pair of white ankle socks and a very childish looking pair of sandals. A shame-faced Tom put them on, the shorts only just covered his nappy and he was sure that, if he bent down any onlooker woud be aware of his nappied state.
“Off you go into the garden” said Sally “You could cut the lawn and make yourself useful.” Tom moved toward the door but quickly realised that walking was not going to be easy. His movement would be better described as waddling. He got the machine from the shed and started it up. Very slowly he began to go back and forward across the lawn. It was when he reached down to remove the full grass box that he was aware that he was being watched across the garden fence by the pretty teenager who lived next door with her mother. Tom was half way bent over, his bottom towards the young lady, when he realised that she was getting a full view of his underwear. He heard her snigger but by the time he straightened and looked round she had gone from the fence. Tom continued with his chore. Progress was slow but eventually he finished , put the machine away and went back into the house. As he entered he heard Sally, the pretty daughter and her mother laughing in the kitchen. Sally was just finished telling them “…..so I decided that he should wear nappies rather than having these accidents in his sleep.” Tom was mortified, his cheeks burned red. He was suddenly conscious of a need to empty his bladder – but he was locked in and Sally had the key. He went into the room and asked her to unlock his panties, no longer caring that his neighbours knew of his unusual underwear and of his having wet the bed. His need was great and he moved his weight from one foot to the other to try to contain the flood his bladder was ready to pour out. Sally looked laughingly at his predicament as did the other two women in the room. “I don’t have the key here,” said Sally, “but never mind, you are dressed for just such an eventuality, just let it go.” Tom didn’t know which way to look but pressure from within won and the warm, wet feeling spread between his legs, around them and accross his tummy. The nappy sagged and showed just a little below the hemline of his shorts. Tom was past caring, he was so ashamed but also helpless. He turned and shuffled out of the room feeling and looking ridiculous as he went. The laughter of the three women rang in his ears and the mental discomfiture was much greater than the physical discomfort the sodden nappy was causing as he walked.
Tom slumped down on the leather sofa in the sitting-room falling into an uneasy shallow sleep. He was conscious of Sally tugging his shoulder and saying that she would change him again. She steered him towards the changing table and told him to climb up and lie back. She positioned him with his head hanging just over the end of the table which meant that he was less able to jump off as she undid his nappies and panties. She suspected that he would not resist and that his spirit was broken by his babyfication having been witnessed by the other women. Sally took off his outer garments, leaving him once more in only the nappy and pants. Sally went off saying she would get the key, Tom lay waiting with his eyes closed. He heard footsteps returning to the side of the table, felt the pants being unlocked and slid down over his ankles, the nappy being un-pinned and taken off. He enjoyed the cleansing of his nether regions, the ointment and the powder. He even raised his hips to let the fresh, dry nappy pass up under his bottom to be securely pinned into place. It was only when the pretty teenager from next door spoke that Tom realised that it was she that had changed him, he jerked up in dismay to the laughter of the other two females who had been watching from the doorway. Tom didn’t know where to look. If his spirit had not been totally broken before, Sally knew that this most recent experience would have left him ready to accept her every dictat about their future life together. It was going to be a very different relationship, not that of husband and wife, but of Mother and child. Sally had her own baby at last – if Tom couldn’t give her a child he would at least be her very own baby.
Nanny Betty’s Adult Baby Nursery for AB’s and Diaper Lovers
Essex London UK