My face was burning bright red after having my wet nappy changed by a total stranger, and I couldn’t get back to the car quickly enough. I was deeply self-conscious about there still being damp patches on the bottom of my rompers (as everyone now seemed to be calling my dungaree shorts), and I still had the feeling that everyone could tell I had a nappy on from the bulkiness of my bottom.
When we finally got back to the car I had to sit in the back again, with Becky sniggering not only that her older brother had a nappy on, but that she got to sit in the front seat too.
Mummy turned round just before we set off and said “Now listen, David, I was very embarrassed that your nappy leaked before lunch. They’re not designed for two wettings. So if you wet your nappy again before we get to our holiday cottage then you must tell Mummy, do you understand? I'm sure we’ll find somewhere to change you, and then you’ll be nice and dry when we arrive. Do you understand?”
I was deeply ashamed at being talked to like that, as if I were a baby, but it wasn’t worth an argument, so I meekly nodded.
Before we’d been going an hour I was horrified to find that familiar twinge in my bladder. I didn’t know what was happening to me – how could I need a wee-wee again so soon? I tried to ignore it, but to no avail. Once again I swallowed my pride and wet my nappy.
Now I had a dilemma; should I hope that I wouldn’t need to go again, so that I didn’t have to admit to Mummy, and Becky, that I’d wet my nappy again? Or should I confess? What if I did need to go again, and my nappy leaked, like last time? And what would I do when we got to our holiday cottage? Would I be able to quietly take off my wet nappy, and dispose of it, without Mummy noticing? I’d be sure to get another spanking if she found out I’d disobeyed her.
I realised I had no choice. I had to confess. “Mummy,” I muttered, “I’ve wet my nappy.”
Becky giggled. Mummy wasn’t so amused. “Goodness me,” she said, “what a good job I put you back into nappies! You seem to be turning into a little baby again!”. As if it wasn’t bad enough wetting my nappy, her words made me thoroughly ashamed of myself.
Mummy said she’d look for somewhere to change me, and soon found signs to a retail park just off our junction. I got out and waited to see where she was going to take me. But to my horror she simply cleared some space in the luggage area of the car. I asked her what she was doing.
“Well, we don’t have time to mess around finding another baby change area for you, so I’ll change your nappy here. Quick, quick, and then we can be on our way again.” She summoned me over to her and undid the straps on my rompers, holding them as I stepped out of them. Just at that moment two teenage girls walked past and giggled at the sight of me in my t-shirt and frilly baby knickers. I was mortified.
Mummy laid me down in the back of the car and pulled my baby knickers down, before removing my wet nappy, scolding me again for wetting it so soon after my last change. She wiped my dry and powdered me, before popping me into another clean nappy and replacing my baby knickers and rompers.
She changed my nappy in the back of the car
The rest of the journey passed without incident, I'm pleased to say. I was so happy when we got to our cottage and I’d finally be able to get out of my nappy and those hateful pink baby knickers.
Aunty Kirsty, Alice and Sarah-Jayne had just arrived when we got there, and my cousins especially were very excited. They’d already chosen a room for them and Becky, and the three of them wasted no time in going off there and closing the door, in the way girls do.
I helped Mummy bring the bags in from the car and then waited expectantly for her to offer to change me out of my nappies and baby knickers. When everything was in I sat on her bed and she said “Okay, David. You’ve mostly been a good boy having your nappies and baby pants on all day. Let’s get you out of them and into your normal clothes. Where have you put your bag?”
I was confused. I’d put the only bag I’d brought right there at the end of her bed.
“No, no,” she said. “Not your bag of baby things. Your bag with your regular clothes etc. in it. Where’s that?”
My heart sank. When she’d told me to put ‘my bag’ in the car at home I’d assumed she meant my bag of ‘baby things’, as she insisted on calling them. I thought she’d packed a bag of my normal clothes for me, like she always did. I let out a wail as I realised what had happened.
Aunty Kirsty came running into the room. “What’s happened?” she asked, clearly worried about what would invoke such a noise.
I sat with my head in my hands while Mummy explained to her about me being put back into nappies and baby knickers, and how this had lead to confusion about me bringing a bag of my own. She even told her sister about how many times I’d had to have my nappy changed, which I didn’t really think was necessary.
“Ah,” said Aunty Kirsty, “I did wonder when he walked in about why he was wearing those dungarees…”. “Rompers.” Mummy corrected. “Oh okay, those rompers. And I did wonder why his bottie was a bit, you know, bulky. So he’s wearing a nappy now?”
Mummy confirmed that I was, and then I had to sit there while they discussed how we would manage with me having nothing to wear for the holiday.
“Well, he can wear his rompers as long as he doesn’t get them dirty…he won’t need socks, he can wear the sandals he’s got on…he won’t be able to wear that t-shirt for two weeks…unless he washes it every evening…but will it dry in time…and he’ll need some underwear, unless he’s going to stay in his nappies…and he’ll need something to wear to bed…”
My mind was a blur. I thought the journey was bad, but it seemed the holiday itself could be even worse. Mummy snapped me out of my contemplations.
“So, David,” she said. “Since you didn’t bring any of your own clothes, you need to make some choices. You can keep your rompers on as long as you don’t get them dirty. If you get them dirty you’ll have to borrow something from the girls, do you understand?”
My mind whirred. Was she seriously suggesting that I might have to wear girls’ clothes?
I imagined myself in a girly dress
I blankly nodded my head.
“But you can’t wear that t-shirt for two weeks, so you’ll either have to borrow one from your sister or one of your cousins, or you’ll have to get ready for bed a bit earlier than usual and wash your t-shirt so that it dries in time for you to wear it in the morning. Which would you like to do – wash your t-shirt, or borrow one of the girls’?”
My head was spinning. I couldn’t wear a girl’s t-shirt. I’d have to wash my own, even though I didn’t really know how to do it.
“And then, of course, there’s your underwear, David. As you don’t have any I’m afraid you're going to have to choose between having your nappies on for the whole holiday, or borrowing a pair of knickers from either your sister or one of your cousins.
Then Aunty Kirsty chipped in. “And you’ll need something to sleep in. You can’t very well go to bed in just your nappies. What happens if we all have breakfast in our pyjamas? I’ll go and ask the girls what they have spare. I’m sure they’ll have some things you can borrow, David.”
I couldn’t speak. I just sat on the end of Mummy’s bed and held my head in my hands. I heard Aunty Kirsty go to the girls’ room, although I could only hear what she was saying, not the girls’ replies.
“David hasn’t brought any clothes with him, so he’ll need to borrow some. Do any of you have anything he can borrow? No, Alice, he doesn’t need a skirt, thank you. He needs some underwear, and some pyjamas. Yes, I know, Sarah-Jayne, you won’t have any boys’ underwear, so, yes, he’ll have to wear a pair of your knickers. No, come on girls, it’s not funny and you mustn’t tease him about wearing knickers. No, Becky, I don’t think he’ll want to wear those. Who has some knickers a bit more plain?”
After what seemed like an eternity Aunty Kirsty returned with a pair of knickers and a nightie. “None of them had pyjamas for you to borrow,” she explained. “This was the best they could spare. And, well, knickers are knickers, but these were the plainest pair they had. I know there are some frills round the legs and waist, but, well, as I said, the other pairs they had were much more girly…”
I stared at the items of clothing, barely believing that I might have to wear them. My thoughts were interrupted by my mother.
“So, David, do you want to put the panties on now? Or do you want to stay in your nappies?”
What a choice. I couldn’t bear the thought of putting on a pair of Sarah-Jayne’s panties, so I shrugged and mumbled that I’d stay in my nappies.
“That’s okay, darling,” Mummy replied. “It’s probably for the best anyway. If you wear your panties now you’ll have to wash them tonight ready to wear tomorrow. You’re right to keep them clean. Now let’s go and have a nice cup of tea.”
The adults left and I followed shortly after, very self-conscious about still having a nappy on, and knowing that the girls knew I had no underwear, even if, hopefully, only Becky knew I’d been made to wear a nappy.
As I entered the room the three girls all looked up. “Are you wearing my panties?” enquired Sarah-Jayne, giggling. “Or have you still got your nappy on?” smirked Becky.
I wished the ground would open up and swallow me.
After our cup of tea Mummy told me that I needed to wash my t-shirt if I was going to wear it again tomorrow. She did offer me the choice again of borrowing one of the girls’ t-shirts, but I couldn’t bear the thought of that. It’d be bad enough wearing knickers, but at least no-one would see them.
So I duly went to my room and Mummy helped me take off my rompers and pulled my t-shirt over my head, leaving me standing there in my nappy and baby knickers.
“You can have your nightie on over your nappy and baby knickers, David, and then we can have some supper.”
Once again I was dumbstruck. Mummy had me lift my arms and slipped the nightie over my head. It was too small for me – quite tight and very short. It barely covered my pink baby knickers. The girls were sure to have a good laugh at my expense.
My nightie was too small for me
I pleaded with Mummy not to make me wear such a humiliating outfit, and not to make me get ready for bed so early in the evening, long before Becky and Alice, who were both younger than me. But of course she was having none of it. She threatened me with another spanking, and I meekly trudged into the sitting room, my nightie barely covering my nappy and frilly baby knickers.
When we finally got back to the car I had to sit in the back again, with Becky sniggering not only that her older brother had a nappy on, but that she got to sit in the front seat too.
Mummy turned round just before we set off and said “Now listen, David, I was very embarrassed that your nappy leaked before lunch. They’re not designed for two wettings. So if you wet your nappy again before we get to our holiday cottage then you must tell Mummy, do you understand? I'm sure we’ll find somewhere to change you, and then you’ll be nice and dry when we arrive. Do you understand?”
I was deeply ashamed at being talked to like that, as if I were a baby, but it wasn’t worth an argument, so I meekly nodded.
Before we’d been going an hour I was horrified to find that familiar twinge in my bladder. I didn’t know what was happening to me – how could I need a wee-wee again so soon? I tried to ignore it, but to no avail. Once again I swallowed my pride and wet my nappy.
Now I had a dilemma; should I hope that I wouldn’t need to go again, so that I didn’t have to admit to Mummy, and Becky, that I’d wet my nappy again? Or should I confess? What if I did need to go again, and my nappy leaked, like last time? And what would I do when we got to our holiday cottage? Would I be able to quietly take off my wet nappy, and dispose of it, without Mummy noticing? I’d be sure to get another spanking if she found out I’d disobeyed her.
I realised I had no choice. I had to confess. “Mummy,” I muttered, “I’ve wet my nappy.”
Becky giggled. Mummy wasn’t so amused. “Goodness me,” she said, “what a good job I put you back into nappies! You seem to be turning into a little baby again!”. As if it wasn’t bad enough wetting my nappy, her words made me thoroughly ashamed of myself.
Mummy said she’d look for somewhere to change me, and soon found signs to a retail park just off our junction. I got out and waited to see where she was going to take me. But to my horror she simply cleared some space in the luggage area of the car. I asked her what she was doing.
“Well, we don’t have time to mess around finding another baby change area for you, so I’ll change your nappy here. Quick, quick, and then we can be on our way again.” She summoned me over to her and undid the straps on my rompers, holding them as I stepped out of them. Just at that moment two teenage girls walked past and giggled at the sight of me in my t-shirt and frilly baby knickers. I was mortified.
Mummy laid me down in the back of the car and pulled my baby knickers down, before removing my wet nappy, scolding me again for wetting it so soon after my last change. She wiped my dry and powdered me, before popping me into another clean nappy and replacing my baby knickers and rompers.
She changed my nappy in the back of the car
The rest of the journey passed without incident, I'm pleased to say. I was so happy when we got to our cottage and I’d finally be able to get out of my nappy and those hateful pink baby knickers.
Aunty Kirsty, Alice and Sarah-Jayne had just arrived when we got there, and my cousins especially were very excited. They’d already chosen a room for them and Becky, and the three of them wasted no time in going off there and closing the door, in the way girls do.
I helped Mummy bring the bags in from the car and then waited expectantly for her to offer to change me out of my nappies and baby knickers. When everything was in I sat on her bed and she said “Okay, David. You’ve mostly been a good boy having your nappies and baby pants on all day. Let’s get you out of them and into your normal clothes. Where have you put your bag?”
I was confused. I’d put the only bag I’d brought right there at the end of her bed.
“No, no,” she said. “Not your bag of baby things. Your bag with your regular clothes etc. in it. Where’s that?”
My heart sank. When she’d told me to put ‘my bag’ in the car at home I’d assumed she meant my bag of ‘baby things’, as she insisted on calling them. I thought she’d packed a bag of my normal clothes for me, like she always did. I let out a wail as I realised what had happened.
Aunty Kirsty came running into the room. “What’s happened?” she asked, clearly worried about what would invoke such a noise.
I sat with my head in my hands while Mummy explained to her about me being put back into nappies and baby knickers, and how this had lead to confusion about me bringing a bag of my own. She even told her sister about how many times I’d had to have my nappy changed, which I didn’t really think was necessary.
“Ah,” said Aunty Kirsty, “I did wonder when he walked in about why he was wearing those dungarees…”. “Rompers.” Mummy corrected. “Oh okay, those rompers. And I did wonder why his bottie was a bit, you know, bulky. So he’s wearing a nappy now?”
Mummy confirmed that I was, and then I had to sit there while they discussed how we would manage with me having nothing to wear for the holiday.
“Well, he can wear his rompers as long as he doesn’t get them dirty…he won’t need socks, he can wear the sandals he’s got on…he won’t be able to wear that t-shirt for two weeks…unless he washes it every evening…but will it dry in time…and he’ll need some underwear, unless he’s going to stay in his nappies…and he’ll need something to wear to bed…”
My mind was a blur. I thought the journey was bad, but it seemed the holiday itself could be even worse. Mummy snapped me out of my contemplations.
“So, David,” she said. “Since you didn’t bring any of your own clothes, you need to make some choices. You can keep your rompers on as long as you don’t get them dirty. If you get them dirty you’ll have to borrow something from the girls, do you understand?”
My mind whirred. Was she seriously suggesting that I might have to wear girls’ clothes?
I imagined myself in a girly dress
I blankly nodded my head.
“But you can’t wear that t-shirt for two weeks, so you’ll either have to borrow one from your sister or one of your cousins, or you’ll have to get ready for bed a bit earlier than usual and wash your t-shirt so that it dries in time for you to wear it in the morning. Which would you like to do – wash your t-shirt, or borrow one of the girls’?”
My head was spinning. I couldn’t wear a girl’s t-shirt. I’d have to wash my own, even though I didn’t really know how to do it.
“And then, of course, there’s your underwear, David. As you don’t have any I’m afraid you're going to have to choose between having your nappies on for the whole holiday, or borrowing a pair of knickers from either your sister or one of your cousins.
Then Aunty Kirsty chipped in. “And you’ll need something to sleep in. You can’t very well go to bed in just your nappies. What happens if we all have breakfast in our pyjamas? I’ll go and ask the girls what they have spare. I’m sure they’ll have some things you can borrow, David.”
I couldn’t speak. I just sat on the end of Mummy’s bed and held my head in my hands. I heard Aunty Kirsty go to the girls’ room, although I could only hear what she was saying, not the girls’ replies.
“David hasn’t brought any clothes with him, so he’ll need to borrow some. Do any of you have anything he can borrow? No, Alice, he doesn’t need a skirt, thank you. He needs some underwear, and some pyjamas. Yes, I know, Sarah-Jayne, you won’t have any boys’ underwear, so, yes, he’ll have to wear a pair of your knickers. No, come on girls, it’s not funny and you mustn’t tease him about wearing knickers. No, Becky, I don’t think he’ll want to wear those. Who has some knickers a bit more plain?”
After what seemed like an eternity Aunty Kirsty returned with a pair of knickers and a nightie. “None of them had pyjamas for you to borrow,” she explained. “This was the best they could spare. And, well, knickers are knickers, but these were the plainest pair they had. I know there are some frills round the legs and waist, but, well, as I said, the other pairs they had were much more girly…”
I stared at the items of clothing, barely believing that I might have to wear them. My thoughts were interrupted by my mother.
“So, David, do you want to put the panties on now? Or do you want to stay in your nappies?”
What a choice. I couldn’t bear the thought of putting on a pair of Sarah-Jayne’s panties, so I shrugged and mumbled that I’d stay in my nappies.
“That’s okay, darling,” Mummy replied. “It’s probably for the best anyway. If you wear your panties now you’ll have to wash them tonight ready to wear tomorrow. You’re right to keep them clean. Now let’s go and have a nice cup of tea.”
The adults left and I followed shortly after, very self-conscious about still having a nappy on, and knowing that the girls knew I had no underwear, even if, hopefully, only Becky knew I’d been made to wear a nappy.
As I entered the room the three girls all looked up. “Are you wearing my panties?” enquired Sarah-Jayne, giggling. “Or have you still got your nappy on?” smirked Becky.
I wished the ground would open up and swallow me.
After our cup of tea Mummy told me that I needed to wash my t-shirt if I was going to wear it again tomorrow. She did offer me the choice again of borrowing one of the girls’ t-shirts, but I couldn’t bear the thought of that. It’d be bad enough wearing knickers, but at least no-one would see them.
So I duly went to my room and Mummy helped me take off my rompers and pulled my t-shirt over my head, leaving me standing there in my nappy and baby knickers.
“You can have your nightie on over your nappy and baby knickers, David, and then we can have some supper.”
Once again I was dumbstruck. Mummy had me lift my arms and slipped the nightie over my head. It was too small for me – quite tight and very short. It barely covered my pink baby knickers. The girls were sure to have a good laugh at my expense.
My nightie was too small for me
I pleaded with Mummy not to make me wear such a humiliating outfit, and not to make me get ready for bed so early in the evening, long before Becky and Alice, who were both younger than me. But of course she was having none of it. She threatened me with another spanking, and I meekly trudged into the sitting room, my nightie barely covering my nappy and frilly baby knickers.
