Unknownwriter

Flooding

Chapter One

The last thing Mum and Dad said to me before they left for the weekend was 'Remember, if you're feet get wet it's time to get out." which was sort of funny, as that was just what had happened to the old house. Our feet had got very wet, all the way up to my neck in fact, but then that's what happens when a river comes through your bungalow's front door, and out the back.

Okay, so that doesn't sound particularly funny, but given the only temporary place we'd been offered by the insurance company, was twelve floors up a posh apartment block, you can see why I smiled, even as I told them I'd be okay on my own for about the twenty billionth time. I'm mean I was fourteen already, so not really a little kid who couldn't be left alone for the weekend, despite some of the things I was planning to get up. Still, my parents didn't know that, and given the entire block we were in was closed to outsiders, the river probably wouldn't have been allowed in anyway, at least not with a handful of references from 'respectable' people just like we'd had to do.

Of course I still had to go through the usual routine, of reciting all their contact numbers, even throwing in numbers to phones that were never to be seen again. Only once all this was out of the way, along with reminders about which hotel they were spending the night in and to contact the janitor if anything went wrong in the apartment, did my parents finally leave me, their only child behind, little realising just how young I would be by the end of the weekend.

The hire car Dad was driving – ours had played water born bumper cars down the street before getting stuck half way up a tree – silently slipped away, reminding me that some things were certainly better now, even if we had barely escaped from the roof of our house with nothing but the clothes on our back, thanks to a pilot disobeying the TV crew he already had on board, who just wanted to film us, instead of actually helping out.

By the time our insurance company agreed to re-house us – which was only after the TV crew from the helicopter had got on the case, even if that was just to divert attention away from themselves – all of the decent rental places had already been taken, which is why we ended up in another town, in a place that wasn't even furnished but for the basics. That's where the basement storeroom came in very handy in fleshing out the apartment into something livable, even if none of it matched and none of it felt like ours. Which is why Mum and Dad were going to spend the weekend touring the various salvage centres to see if anything of ours had actually survived.

Turning I looked up at the building towering above me, which was another improvement. Okay so it didn't look it on the outside, and it didn't have the river-side appeal of our old house, but I'd found more than enough to make up for that down in the basement storage area, some of which was now hidden in my new bedroom right up near the top.

Twelve floors up, I punched the number into the door entry pad, waited for the click, and then pushed the door open, entered, then waited for it to close again behind me with a satisfying click, before disabling the external pad, safe in the knowledge that no one could now get in and catch me doing the very odd thing I was about to do.

The apartment was huge, even bigger than our old place, with more rooms that we would have ever wanted or indeed could have used with just the three of us, all of them having a great view over the town that was now our home, or at least the large university hospital that was next door. Still you could see the green hills in the distance so it was sort of like being in the country again. Only drier.

I still marvelled at the view whenever I walked through the living room with it's floor to ceiling picture windows, that continued on through to the dinning area, and then the kitchen. Beyond that lay the five bedrooms and four bathrooms. My parents claimed the first bedroom, I had the second, with the other three unused. At least for now.

My new room had none of my things in it, all of which had been lost. No poster, no books, no CDs, no DVDs, and well, not much of anything really. My PC, TV, PVR etc had been replaced with a single slightly battered, under-powered laptop, that had none of the games on it that I'd have played for hours on end but at least it the Internet, just about, so all wasn't lost.

Other than that, I had the usual things you'd expect to find in a bedroom, like a desk, an enormous wardrobe that could well have been the gateway to Narnia, and, some drawers which I could have filled with all the clothes I'd been donated, after the TV appeal, if ninety-nine percent of them hadn't been either hideous, or totally the wrong size. I also had a bed, the likes of which my great granddad probably would have slept in with it great big metal rails at each end, and a mattress so high off the floor I almost needed a step to be able to get onto it.

Oh and there was the safe.

It was built into the floor, under where my bed, fitted so cleverly you couldn't even see it was there just by looking. I'd only discovered it when I'd tried to move the bed, and the solid iron weight had made the floor creak in a way that reminded me a little too much of how the bungalow had sounded as the water had first hit the outside walls. Only this turned out to be a good thing. A very good thing.

Entering my bedroom I made like the football goalkeeper I was for the school team, and dove straight under the bed, sliding effortlessly across the no doubt expensive, yet cold first thing in the morning, flooring, until my head, and shoulders disappeared from sight beneath that great big metal beast.

A hand on the opposing wall, prevented my head cracking into the skirting like the first time I'd tried the slide, leaving me almost perfectly level with the secret hatch, that once pressed in all the correct places, caused a section of the floor to drop down slightly so it could then be slid underneath the rest to expose the metal face plate of the safe.

There was no keyhole or handle on the safe, just the same sort of keypad that was on the front door. Thankfully, in what had to be a major lapse in security, whoever had last used the safe, had it set for the exact same code as the door, so I'd only needed one attempt to open it. Naturally I'd since changed the code, following the instructions handily attached to the back of the safe door, to something only I knew, as if I could figure it out then so could my parents, and I didn't want them seeing what I was keeping down here.

Once the safe was opened I pulled out the single thing it contained. The rucksack had been given to me when I checked out of the hospital and had contained what the charity who provided it called a 'Survival Kit' which was a somewhat grand name for a set of underwear, toothbrush, toothpaste, and some soap. Now it contained something a lot less practical but a lot more fun, if slightly stolen.

The rucksack was sealed with zippers that were themselves closed with padlocks that had dials on the front. These could be used as both timers to release the locks so they could only be opened between certain times, or after a specified period of time, or like a standard combination lock, which is how I was using them.

Sitting on my bed, with my feet all but dangling even though I'm not really that much shorter than most fourteen year old boys, I removed the locks. Inside were two of the things I'd manage to gather for myself from the deluge of public donation that hadn't always been the most practical for me or even my family. After all how many teenagers would want a set of thin terry towels, and extra large safety pins, with covers over the tops for that added protecting? Mind you not many teenagers would know what these were either. But I did as I'd seen them in use at the hospital but had yet to use them myself. Until now.

Jumping down from the bed, I did a quick tour of my bedroom. First opening up the large wardrobe door, folding it back to the full height mirror fixed to the inside was easily visible. Then I went to my desk, to open up my laptop, so it could start bringing itself out of 'sleep' mode – I dare not turn it completely off as it took forever to boot up – so it would be ready for when I would need it. In the meantime, I went to the drawers on the other side, and picked out the T-shirt I'd previous selected from my stash in the basement for the occasion.

On the way back to the laptop I pulled the shirt I was wearing over my head, rather than to waste time undoing the buttons, tossing it over to the corner where a laundry basket was waiting to catch it. Then I pulled on the new shirt on in it's place, which was nothing but a plain white t-shirt with a large bright red dinosaur covering the front, with it's head just beneath my chin and it's feet were just above my belly button as that's where the bottom hem ended.

The t-shirt was marked as being for ages 5-8 but they must have been pretty big eight year olds as it really wasn't all that tight on me, just somewhat on the short side, but that, along with the childish print on the front, just added to the little kid look that I would be going for this weekend.

My laptop was ready by the time I settled in front of it, for some nifty moves that sent me to the on-line storage site that dad had set up for all our back ups, as there's nothing like a total wipe out of your electronic life to let you know just how important back ups were! Only back ups wasn't the only thing that I used that site for, as hidden away in a password directory was my private stuff, and it was here that I went, looking for the instructions on how to fold a terry towel into a diaper that would fit a teenager.

Turning the laptop towards the bed, and increasing the font size so I'd be able to read the instructions from there, I set about following them as closely as any homework assignment I'd ever had which turned out not to be good enough as my first couple of attempts were complete rubbish.

It was on the fifth attempt that I finally achieved something that looked about right, in a triangle shape that would be big enough for me to wear, as a quick demonstration over my jeans proved, although there would only be one way to be sure of that fact which is why I next went into the bathroom en suite to my room to get the first thing I'd forgotten in my haste to regress myself.

I never explained to my parents just why I wanted such a large tub of plain talcum powder and they never asked which was just as well as I don't think I could have come up with something convincing, but those thoughts were a long way from my mind, as I returned to my bedroom, not just with the talc but without wearing anything other than the too short, too childish T-shirt.

My excitement waved around in front of me even I as I did such an every day thing as depositing my jeans, underwear and socks into the laundry basket, and it continued to do so even as I got up onto my bed, and sat my naked bum right down in the middle of the terry cloth triangle.

There was, I had to admit, nothing like sitting on a soft, fluffy towel, and certainly nothing like covering yourself in the sweat smelling white powder that soon turned the already pale parts of my otherwise tanned body, into the colour of your average ghostly vampire.

Now it was time for the ultimate nappy test. Reaching down between my legs, totally ignoring what was standing proud there, I grabbed the long pointed end of the towelling triangle and pulled it up so that it covered the very enjoyment that it was giving me.

At this point I had to pause for a minute as I'd forgotten to make sure the safety pins were within reach, but once that oversight was rectified, I was able to pull up each end of the top parts of the triangle around the sides of my hips so that they would meet up with front part. Here, on both sides, I pushed the safety pins through the cloth, giving the entire thing one last hefty tug to make it as tight as possible, before I finally fastened the pins, by locking off the tops.

There I'd done it. I was wearing a nappy for the first time in little more than ten years, only it didn't seem any more than I just had a towel wrapped around my waist, as if I'd just come out of the shower. Okay so it between my legs, which made it a little more interesting, as I slid myself from the bed, as it sort of bunched up down there. That rectified itself as I took the few steps I needed in order to get over to the wardrobe mirror.

The image I saw in the mirror wasn't exactly what I'd been hoping for, but it wasn't far from it either. The towel was fairly tight, and made quite a good fit around my body, although at the same time it appeared to bulk out around the back, both expanding and accentuating the roundness of my bum, while providing a totally smooth front that completely hid the turbulence that was going on within the towelling. Still along with the childish, outgrown shirt, the overall appearance, was heading in the right direction, of making me look less like a teenager and more like a baby, or at least a cross between the two, just like those I'd seen at the hospital after the flood.

Thankfully, all my family escaped from the trauma of the flood with little more than a few cuts and bruises, but as we'd probably swallowed more river water than was good for us, and as we had nowhere else to go, we'd spent a few days in hospital. Naturally with an emergency going on, there was no way we'd been able to stay together, so I'd ended up in a ward more normally used for kids and teenagers who were in for more serious reasons than 'observation'. It was there that I saw what I thought was a bunch of little kids in nappies, only to discover a lot of them were actually my age, or older. They'd just never grown up inside their heads.

I'd found it all much more fascinating that I probably should have, but the staff were friendly, and given how they had to constantly monitor me for signs of delayed shock, they were always around to answer my questions, about why and then the more detailed ones about why, there were teenagers in nappies.

No doubt the staff, just thought I was asking them about that so I wouldn't have to face up to my own situation. At least that's what the I overheard the patronising trauma therapist telling them before she ironically, started to treat me like I was five years old, instead of fourteen with her stupid questions, and comments about how I was a 'big boy', and other stuff that made it really hard not to laugh in her face.

The odd thing was, it was that same therapist, that inadvertently gave me the idea to dress up like a little kid, as she explained the behaviour of the other kids on the ward as, 'regression'. That they reverted to a younger age in order to block out some trauma or other that they'd had to face. Of course, all her answers had something or other to do with 'trauma' but then she was a 'trauma therapist', but still it was worth a try, even if it didn't stop me feeling guilty about the 'souvenir' I'd left the hospital with. The plastic pants.

At the time I was getting ready to leave hospital, standing beside the bed, dressed in clothes that weren't mine, waiting for my parents to turn up, a pile of plastic pants had just been sitting on a trolley across the corridor and I still don't know for sure why I was drawn to them, or just why I'd spend the night with alternating dreams of myself drowning in our living room, or being made to wear nappies and plastic pants. However what I did know that while the first thoughts made me feel sick, the later gave me an erection that was in danger of bursting through the thin track suit I'd been given from the hospital's lost property.

It was almost like it wasn't me who crept across the corridor and started looking through the plastic pants for a size that would fit me, and who then put those he found into the rucksack, tucking them right into the bottom, so they wouldn't be obvious.

I pretty much forgot about the plastic pants in the whirlwind of events that covered the next couple of days, only to rediscover them once we were finally in our twelfth floor haven, at which point I had half a mind to throw them away, only to end up trying them on, at which point there was no going back as I knew, the first chance I got I would be wearing them all the time.

That time was now.

Chapter Two

Before the weekend my parents went back to our bungalow on their salvage mission, I'd only worn the plastic pants on their own, at night, as that was the only time I was alone. The only problem with that was, they were a touch baggy, given they were meant to fit over a nappy, yet at the same time, I still found them so exciting, that just a few rubs of either my hand, or even the bedclothes, would set me off inside them. In fact I was so turned on by them that I could almost have the same reaction just by looking at them, or touching them. And I did that a lot.

They were tucked away, right at the bottom of the rucksack where they spent most of their time during daylight hours, since I was discharged. Every time I took them out I once more sucked in a lung full of the wonderful of medicated clean smell that hospitals are smothered in, as was the thick, plastic with the thick crinkled elastic around the waist and leg openings. Milky white in colour they still managed to be transparent at the same time, despite the stains I'd managed to add to the front something that wouldn't be an issue now I had a nappy on.

Putting the plastic pants on over the top of a nappy, was totally new to me, but I'd seen it done a couple of times in the hospital, so knew that I had to lie back on the bed, thread me feet into the leg holes and them pull them up to the bottom of the nappy. By this time the elastic around the leg openings was already starting to pull against my thighs, which it would continue to do, as I rolled myself backwards, throwing my legs into the air, so that my enlarged bum would lift up from the bed, and allow the rear of the plastic pants to slid on up over the nappy.

The entire thing was obviously easier if there was someone else there to hold your legs up, and to pull the plastic pants up, but that just wasn't going to happen, so I did it all on my own, following the sights I'd seen as much as I could. Even working around the top and leg openings, once they were on, to make sure there were no stray bits of nappy sticking out.

It was time for me to make another appearance in front of the mirror and this time I very much liked what I saw. Now it didn't look like I was wearing a towel having just got out of the shower. Now it looked like I was wearing a nappy. Not that you could tell straight away that I was, as the actual towelling wasn't that visible through the pants, as all you could see what white through the milky plastic. The main difference from before as that wearing the pants smoothed everything out completely. There were no lumps or bumps, visible where the nappy was folded over. Even the pins could no longer be seen. Instead everything was transformed into soft, gentle curves and apparently flat surfaces.

Despite the wideness of the waist and leg bands, the plastic pants looked pretty much like a normal pair of pants, or at least like those a little kid would wear. There was no fly of course, as that would have somewhat defeated the object but there was nothing all that unusual about them, other than for their thickness obviously.

Normal underwear worn by boys my age, usually just hang on your body, designed as they are to hide what's inside which they do with varying degrees of success. Boxers show next to nothing as they are more or less like shorts, although as most of their users know, you have to watch the fly doesn't gap open and show everything they should be hiding. Briefs are the opposite, as while they don't really show what you've got in detail, they still show what's there, with the outline of your nuts clearly on show while your bum gets all mushed together in a way that makes people want to slap it.

It's no wonder that most of my peer group go for a hybrid of the two, something that's large enough not to make everything too obvious, but at the same time, doesn't let things flap around either neither of which was an issue for the plastic pants and nappy combo. There was no movement at all allowed inside the soft folds of the nappy although the tightness of the plastic pants did round out my bum like you wouldn't believe. Yet, other than that, it just looked like I had on thick, and I mean really thick, underpants.

This was especially obvious when I turned sideways to the mirror. There you could see how the front of my body came down in a nice flat way, from my chest across my very flat stomach, but then, as you got to my waist, there was like a sudden step in my profile, where the plastic pants came, expanding my outline by a good inch or so [3 cm] before it started to curve back inwards towards my legs without the slightest indication as to which gender I was. It was exactly the same around the back too, with my bum being all big and plump. And then there was the sound.

My every step, or twist, or turn, now had it's own sound track of crinkles and crackles that I hadn't really been expecting, even though I'd heard people talking about them on-line, yet, as they'd said, it did add to the totally babyish look that I'd been going for. Now I just had to see how I compared.

In the short time I'd had the laptop, and some privacy, I'd spent as much time as I could gathering as much information as I could on what was fast becoming my new obsession. The life of people in nappies.

The first thing I'd looked for as pictures to go with my memories of those I'd seen in hospital, and that's where I went to directly on this occasion too. Logging back into the on-line storage site as the previous session had expired, I went directly for my favourite images of boys my age wearing similar things to what I now had on. Some of these were clearly medical related, but others weren't. Not even slightly. These boys wanted to wear them. And so did I, which is why I'd come up with my plan.

It was contained in another file in the secret folder. A file that had a totally innocent looking title, but with no file extension so that even if you double clicked on it, no application would be launched. This was another level of security I'd built into my plan, as the only way to open it was to start application first – in this case a portable text editor – and then direct that to the file to be opened.

The words contained were so familiar to me that I could have recited them all from memory, yet I still read them from the screen, just as I had been doing nearly every night since my parents had announced I was going to finally get some totally privacy.

It was a basically a list of the things I would need, to go with those I'd found in the basement, followed by notes as to where I could get them, and where I could keep them, until they were needed. Then a second list of the things I had to do, in the order I had to do them, in order for everything to run, smoothly. And finally there was a set of rules I was going to follow in order to stay in character.

All but one thing on the first list I'd already managed to find, and they were saved either in my room, or if they were either too bulky to be hidden or would raise too many questions, down in the basement storage room, where I'd be getting them, just as shortly as I'd got the one thing I was going to have to actually buy. Disposable nappies, that I could actually use, without spending all weekend washing towels and not because toddlers didn't do that.

I'd decided that I wasn't going to be an actual baby as such, as they didn't really do anything, but would be able to move around and do something so in other words rather than being fourteen years old teenager, I was going to be a fourteen month old toddler. Although before that could happen I had to go shopping.

Chapter Three

Clearly I couldn't just go out of the up scale apartment block I was living in wearing nothing by a home made cloth nappy, plastic pants and a t-shirt that didn't cover my stomach. Of course I could have changed back into my normal clothes, and just gone as myself, but seeing that it was part of my plan that I'd be spending the weekend dressed as I was, I didn't want to ruin it now by going out of character, so to speak, especially as that was my cover in case I was caught. That I was rehearsing for a play, doing the 'method' system, although just what sort of play I could do that would require a teenager to wear a nappy I hadn't exactly worked out.

Anyway, the main reason I wanted to go in a nappy was partly to prove that I was up for it, but also because the first time buying nappies seemed to be one of those moments in a teenager babies life, that everyone had to go through, as it was featured in every story I'd read. Well every story where the kid didn't actually need the nappies.

SO the question now was, what could I wear that wouldn't make the nappy I was wearing completely obvious but, at the same time, still make me aware it was there?

Naturally I'd already sorted this out, just like I'd left nothing else over the weekend to chance and already had the two items I would need ready in my room. The first was a set of grey shapeless jogging trousers, which would be easily big enough to cover the nappy and were the sort of thing that boys my (real) age tended to wear, but which were also worn by the little ones too. And the second was a massive t-shirt, that would do the same thing.

It didn't take me long to get ready as the clothes were really easy to put on as they just pulled into place with the waistband of the jogging trousers fitting nicely over the top of the plastic pants, giving me an even bigger bum than I'd had before, although that was soon hidden as the extra large t-shirt dropped down over the top, reaching almost all of the way to my legs, so that nothing could be seen, and hiding that extra bulging around my middle.

Little ankle socks went on my feet, followed by a pair of what were called slip on trainers but would have once been called plimsolls and were the sort of things that little kids wore back in the day when my parents were little kids.

Finally I brushed my hair, which I'd washed that morning in my own power shower, to remove any product from it, so that it would just sit on my head in a sort of bowl which again, was like something a little kid would have. Then picking up large bag to carry what I was going to get, along with my wallet I headed out of the apartment setting the answering machine on the phone on the way.

Even though I knew there was nothing to see walking towards the lift felt strange mostly due to the extra bulk between my legs that I wasn't used to, and which now I was outside of the apartment where other people might be, I became all the more conscious about yet I knew I had to stop myself from continually checking to see if there was anything to see, or else I'd just draw attention to what I was doing. I also had to walk as normal as possible without bowing my legs for the same reason. Oh and try to ignore the very faint crackling sound of the plastic pants that although muffled by the jogging trousers, I could swear was getting louder with every step.

Down in the lobby, I was relieve to see that it was empty, with not even the doorman to be seen. Not that I was worried about him seeing me as such, but given that I wouldn't be coming back in this way, I didn't want him to wonder where I was.

The outside air hit me with a freshness that you loose when you've spent a lot of time inside making plans, but I didn't have time to just wonder around in my nappy as much as I would have liked to, as there would be more than enough time for that later, plus I had some shopping to do.

Actually the shop I was going to wasn't an actual shop as such, as after all most shops don't actually sell nappies that would fit teenagers, but I knew one place that would. The University teaching hospital that was right next door to our building.

The hospital itself was enormous, and I mean enormous. It must have covered more ground than the entire town we'd lived in before. With building spread out on all sides, with wings for this and that, and speciality centres with names that you need a degree in Latin to be able to pronounce. I didn't need any of that though, as the part I was heading for was just one block away from our apartment, and was the supplies centre.

Now I know what you're thinking, that I'm going to get my disposable nappies in the same way that I obtained the plastic pants, but that isn't the case as unlike most hospital supplies, the teaching hospital had branched out into retail so as well as supplying the hospital with everything it needed, they were also open to the public so they could get all the medical stuff they want. Which included nappies, obviously.

By the time I got to the hospital store, it was coming up for lunchtime, which as it turned out was the perfect time to go there as visiting hours hadn't started yet, so the store was fairly quiet, even so I didn't really want to spend any more time in there than I wanted to so once inside the door, I located the baby section and headed for it.

Moving through the store was an experience I can tell you for it was just like a normal supermarket but instead of the shelves being filled with fruit, veg, meat and such like, there were all sorts of weird, wonderful and in some cases downright frightening things just sitting there. So it was more than a little relief that I made it through to the nappy section, only to realise that my research had clearly been lacking.

There were hundreds of different sorts of nappies. So many that I didn't know where to start looking for some that would be right for me. I had an idea in my head of what I wanted, and what I didn't want. Pullups – those that are like regular briefs but with a bit of padding 'just in case' – were out, so I could discard looking at them but that still left a lot of others, in various sizes, shapes, quality, brands and so on.

It took me a few minutes but I did eventually work out, that I was wasting my time as nothing there was going to fit me. At least not in the Baby isle, as I wasn't after all a baby. Thankfully the nappies were arranged in ascending age order, so all I had to do was work along the lines, going further into the store before I crossed out of the 'Baby' section, through the 'Toddler' and into the incontinent section.

Standing there, I look at what was on offer, relieved to see that it was now narrowed down from a seemingly endless choice to just four in the 'Youth' range. One of these was in the Pullup style, so that left three, all of which looked pretty much the same, plain white, with tapes on the side, with just the brand name and price being the only differences, and my search probably would have stopped there, had I not turned around to see if anyone was watching me.

It wasn't a person that was behind me, but another stand of 'Youth' nappies, that I hadn't seen before. These were basically like those I'd been looking at but, they were anything buy plain and unlike the others the packaging wasn't plastered with slogans like 'Undetectable' which promised they were just like normal underwear. These ones were made for mentally disabled teenagers, and were styled every bit like the baby nappies I'd been looking at to start with, complete with cartoon characters, plastered on the thickly padded front and rear. In other words, they were perfect especially as they were on sale, if only they weren't for girls.

There was only one thing for it. I was going to have to ask.

Although was a check out at the front of the store, as you'd expect, there was also a 'Help' desk at the back, manned by a little old lady, no doubt on a voluntary basis, who if nothing else, and was a much less embarrassing prospect than talking to those up the front, who being semi-qualified medical types might have asked questions about why I wanted what I wanted.

"Hello sonny!" the women said in that patronising way I'd normally have found annoying, but actually found soothing on this occasion. "Can I help you with something?"

My voice cracked a bit like it was breaking all over again, which did nothing to hide just how embarrassed I was, despite all the rehearsal I'd done for just this situation. Still I managed to stumble out that I was looking for the boy version of the nappies that were on special offer.

"Ah right, yes," she said, looking me up and down, in a way that made me blush, "Those are out the back as we don't get that much call for them. Why don't you carry on shopping and I'll go get them for you. We've got some items on offer you may be interested in."

She was gone before I could ask what she meant by that, replaced by another assistant who looked like he was on Community Payback, so I decided to find the other things I wanted which I figured would be in the 'Accessories' aisle I'd passed on the way to the counter.

Everything I wanted was right there on the shelves. It was just a matter or working out what I could afford. I would have loved to have bought everything your average baby needed, from bibs to sippy-cups to bouncers and walkers, but I just didn't have the money, and most of that stuff would have been too small anyway. Still there was once thing that was top priority behind the nappies and that was a pacifier. I just wasn't sure I'd be able to get one that wouldn't look stupidly small. But I was in luck.

Once more it wasn't in the regular baby accessory part of the story, but at the end in the disabled section and was just what I wanted. A pacifier that wasn't only big enough to fit a teenager's mouth, but one that could be adjusted so it couldn't be removed.

They called it a 'safety feature' when what it really was that the bulb that went into the mouth could be inflated, by simply twisting the external ring, making it impossible to be removed, while also allowing the child to breath. That second bit I guess was the safety part, as breathing was obviously important. It even had a feeding tube attachment that could be screwed in, but I wouldn't be needing that, especially as it was very expensive as you had to buy a little pump and other stuff whereas the pacifier was rather cheap.

By now I had all that I'd come for, or at least I would have once the old lady returned with my special offer nappies so in the meantime I just browsed up and down the shelves, intending to just kill time when instead, I made one of the best discoveries of the weekend.

It was just hanging up on a little hook at the end of the 'special' display. There was no label, or note to say what it was, but I recognised it anyway. It was a child harness. Made from the same material they made seat belts from, with adjustable slides all over the place, and a strong looking buckle that joined all the straps together. There were five straps in total. Two going around the torso at waist and chest height, while the another two, came up from both of them, going over the shoulders, and down to the back. The fifth and final one, went down between the legs, making it impossible for the harness to be taken off, without the five point buckle being released first.

"That's on special offer if you want it?"

The question caught me totally by surprise as I was too busy staring at the harness. Turning to find the old women from the help desk, standing at the end of the aisle, with a large package under her arm.

I mumbled something about just looking, but I don't think I fooled her for a second, even when I threw in my standby story about buying things for my brother who was 'special'.

"Oh I see!" she said, again using that patronising voice thing, "Is your brother about the same size as you, sonny?"

"I guess." I shrugged realising that the nappies she was holding were in my size, so there was little else I could say.

"Well in that case, that should fit your brother, and indeed, you."

I didn't know what to say to that, so ended up saying nothing. Just standing there like I was the special one.

"It comes with all the attachment," she said, coming over, putting the nappies down at my feet, so she could take the harness down from the hook it was on, revealing that there were indeed more parts to it.

"I don't think I can afford it." I eventually managed to blurt out, no doubt still sounding like an idiot.

She asked me how much I could afford, even totalling up the cost of the nappies, and the inflatable nappy I'd forgotten I was holding, to give me the running cost.

My family didn't have a lot of money at that point, as we'd lost all our bank details, cards and so on in the flood, and banks can be a right pain in the arse, if you can't prove who you are on paper, but we did have an allowance paid by the various charities that were helping us out, and I'd managed to save quite a bit, for my little shopping trip, which thanks to the reduction on the nappies, was enough to cover the pacifier as well with a bit left over. Just obviously not enough for a full harness. At least not a full price.

"Tell you what sonny," the Help Lady said, "Why don't you have the harness on sale?"

"Really, how much is that?"

Okay, so I sounded why too keen with that question, but I couldn't help it, especially when 'cost' turned out to be just under the exact money I had left. It was like this was my destiny or something.

With the deal done, over my supplies, the Help Lady, offered to ring up my purchases herself, so I wouldn't have to go to the front of store cash desk, which naturally I was grateful for her to do, as I hadn't been looking forward to that experience. She even offered to put the nappies into a thick plain carry bag, so no one could see what I'd bought, which reminded me to take the plastic bag out of my pocket that I'd bought for just that reason.

And so ended my first experience at buying nappies, which hadn't gone nearly as bad as most of those I'd read about, although that doesn't mean I would be looking forward to the next time I would be doing it.

By the time I left the medical store, with my big carrier bag, the hospital was starting to get busier, so I had to abandon plans I had to stop for a snack in the canteen there – one of the perks of sharing an apartment block with doctors and surgeons was knowing about stuff like this – and instead opted for a snack from some of the vending machine that littered the place, which I could eat on my way around the back of the tall building that was my temporary home.

Unlike the front, there were no well tended flower beds, or large glass doors, but rather, metal lattice compound behind which were kept the buildings rubbish, and a single solid reinforced door marked 'Fire Exit Keep Clear'. That was the one I used.

My number entry code worked just as well here as it did at the front, but with no power assist on the door it was much harder to haul it open, before I could step though in the building's back passages.

Ahead of me, lay access way to various parts of the infrastructure, none of which was meant to be seen by the residents, but which I'd become somewhat familiar with as I'd made many trips down this way to visit the place I was about to go. The basement.

Chapter Four

The basement of the exclusive tower was split into two parts with most of the available space beneath the building taken up by residents parking for cars that probably cost more than our bungalow. This section, not surprisingly had heavy security, monitoring it all the time, along with access to the lifts but, tucked away at the back was the storage section, where all the unwanted items, left whenever someone moved out were kept. It was here that a lot of the furniture in our apartment had come from, so I'd spent a fair bit of time poking around down there, which is how come I'd found all the things I was now going to be taking up to the twelve floor.

The entry to the storage section was pretty well hidden at the side of the garage. So well hidden in fact that most of the residents probably didn't even know it was there, which was handy for me given that I'd stashed the stuff I wanted to use for this weekend, during the last week. There it was, everything I needed, sitting ready to roll on the trolley the caretaker had provided and covered over with a dust sheet so no one could see what I was up to.

Carefully I lifted one side of the dust sheet to check everything was still there, including both the large parts of the disassembled furniture, and the bags of clothing that I'd stashed away ready to wear in my toddler time.

Then once everything was checked off on my mental checklist, I added the things I'd bought at the medical store, tucking them in under the dust sheet, which I then made sure wouldn't come entangled in the wheels before I set about working the entire thing out of the storeroom, and into the main part of the basement, for when I would have to wheel it past all the expensive cars, towards the goods lift at the side of the building.

It was totally nerve-wracking to push and pull the trolley between those cars, as I knew the cameras would be recording my ever movement, and even the slightest scrape on any of them would be more than my family could ever afford not to mention the questions as to what I was up to in the first place.

Thankfully I made it without trouble, and punched the code into the lift doors, waiting for it to arrive, so I could push the trolley away from the cameras and get it up to the twelve floor where I could get to work constructing everything, once, I had myself changed into some more suitable clothing.

The journey went without a simple hitch. The lift delivered me and my goods up to the floor just a short way from our apartment without passing a single person. The trolley working wonders as it slipped through the front door, and was finally hidden from view, by the time I'd pushed it all the way through our apartment to the empty bedrooms right at the back.

There I left the trolly for the time being as it was time to get myself into some clothing more suited for the weekend, yet before I could do that I had to make a short side trip back into the sitting room to check for phone messages, in case my parents had phoned to check up on me but they hadn't.

Returning to my room I placed the bag of clothes from the basement, and the over large carrier bad from the medical shop on my bed, and set about taking off everything I was currently wearing. And yes I mean everything. Even the terry towel nappies, as I wouldn't be needing them anymore. Not now I had real nappies.

I had a little trouble getting the safety pins out, as the angle was just all wrong, but in the end the terry towels fell away from around my middle, leaving me naked as the day I was born. WHich had some sort of irony in it, given what I had been and what I would be wearing in a moment.

First things first though, and a trip to the bathroom was in order to take care of the usual needs, as even though I really fancied the idea of wearing nappies I wasn't really ready to start using them just yet. Well not the terry ones anyway, there was the washing issue. That said, the one I'd been wearing was slightly damp in the front, but that had nothing to do with wee, but rather the excitement that had leaked out of me, while I'd been out and about in them.

Anyway, once I'd emptied myself of the soda from the snack bar, I returned to my room with a soft mat that I laid out on the floor and which would become my changing table for the weekend. Sure I could have rigged up some sort of low table, so it was more like the real thing, but that just seemed like a lot of endless work, plus it wasn't as if there was actually anyone there to change me, alas, so this was just simpler.

That done, I finally got to open up the large packet of nappies I'd bought earlier. There inside were the very things I'd been dreaming about all this time. The first thing I noticed was even though I'd totally ripped open the side of the packaging the nappies themselves stayed neatly all lined up inside, as they were totally jammed in tight. So tight that when I pulled one out the first thing it did was start to expand. I don't mean that it blew up like a inflatable boat of anything like that but rather that it just expanded to show it's full thickness which turned out to be rather thick indeed.

The nappies were folded over so they were similar in size to a DVD case, at least in height and width, but of course they were considerable thicker than that which could only be a good thing.

Putting the disposable nappy on was pretty much the same process as it had been for putting on the terry towel one only without all the fussing about with pins and such like.

Just like the last everything started with my laying out the nappy on the ground, or in this case the changing mat, with it's parts spread out. Then I sat on it.

NOw I was sitting on it, the differences between an actual nappy and the terry towel were all the more obvious. The first was that it didn't feel like I was sitting on a towel anymore, simply because I wasn't. So there was that. The second thing was that, unlike the towel, a nappy isn't flat. This I knew from my research as youth nappies had added soaker pads built into them. The reason for this was obvious if you thought about it. NOt that most people would. It's simple biology. A bigger body is going to create a lot more things to be soaked up. What's more a teenager is obviously going to have a much greater flow rate than a little kid, so everything has to be soaked up faster. So in other words the soaker pad is like a big old sponge, and does the same job, only faster.

It felt a bit odd sitting when I first sat on the soaker, as it created a ridge in the middle of the nappy, but as I lowered my full weight down onto it, everything seemed to sort itself out, and I didn't notice it was there anymore. Mind you by then I'd had to get up as once more I'd forgotten the talcum powder.

A few minutes later I was back sitting on the nappy, with ghostly white private parts, that were somewhat spoiling the image of me as a little kid, so they had to be covered up by bringing the front of the nappy up between my legs to rest on top of everything.

I had to move my legs apart a little in order to do this, moving them into a sort of frog shape, all bowed out from the knees which wasn't something I was used to, but then there were a lot of things happening this week that I wasn't used to either.

Bringing the sides up across my hips was a little tricky especially as I still had talc all over my hands, but just like the pictorial descriptions on the packaging suggested, first I had to line up the side panels onto the front, before I began to fasten anything down, in order that I'd be able to get a good tight fit.

The nappies proved to be a really great design, with well thought out aspects such as the two-time-tabs. This meant that instead of just having the one go at sticking the tabs that fastened everything together, in place, you got two. To do this you pealed back the first part of the tab as a temporary measure, on one side, to hold that in temporary place, while you did the same with the other side. Then with both more or less where you wanted them, you then got the chance to make final adjustments, like pulling the nappy really tight up and around your body, before carefully peeling back the temporary fastenings, which also exposed the main part of the tab, which would make for a much more permanent fixing. Well not permanent but longer lasting anyway.

It took a bit of time to get the nappy on correctly even with the two-time-tabs, as each side had a row of three tabs, each of which had to be adjusted separately, until everything was really tight.

When it was all done, I spent a few minutes just laying back on the changing mat, savouring the feeling of having the tight padding around my private parts, before I just had to go and see what I looked like in the mirror.

I could have got up, onto my feet and walked, but it was only a short distance and anyway, it seemed more realistic to just crawl over there, so that's what I did, going on hands and knees, with my big rounded bum raised right up in the air and waving about as if I wanted everyone to see me in a nappy, even though there was no one there to see it but me and the mirror.

It really was a great look. I looked almost exactly like the kids I'd seen in the hospital. My legs, arms, chest, stomach, were all still bare of course, so you could see the various tan lines that marked the levels of clothing cover that teenagers normally have. My arms had a single mark around the upper part, from short sleeve t-shirts, while my legs had several different ones. A faint one just above the ankles, another mid shin from casual shorts, and a third just about at knee level from school sports shorts. The upper part of my legs, from my thighs upward hadn't seen the sun in an age, as just like me peers even when swimming I stuck to long shorts, so there were something of a very pale colour, but even that was a contrast to the white of the nappy. A contrast that was all the more startling where the nappies came to my stomach which at least had some colour from playing soccer in shirts and skins format.

The colour wasn't the only difference of course, especially not to my normal clothes, even if the overall effect was similar to how I'd last stood in front of the mirror in the terry towels and plastic pants. These nappies had their own built in plastic coating, on the outside, that felt just like the plastic pants had, and gave the same look of sleekness too.

Once more there was no real indication of which gender I was, as the centre part of the nappy appeared to be completely flat, although when I stood up, this proved not to be reality at all, for while it may have looked flat it really wasn't, as there was quite a large bulge there. However, as the bulge was all over, between my legs, rather than just where my balls and prick were, it didn't look obscene. In fact it didn't really look like anything, although I was very well aware of just how much the soaker pad was adding to the nappy's width, between my legs, as I was still standing a little with my legs bowed. Looking down I could see the bulge made by the nappy's extra padding but looking straight on like the mirror was, next to nothing of it was visible. The same wasn't true around the back though.

"Does my bum look big in this?" I laughed, quoting from an old TV show, but there was no need to provide an answer for my bum looked enormous. All big and rounded out like you wouldn't believe from the style and shape of the nappy. And I loved it.

Part of me now wanted to spend the rest of the day just wearing the nappy and nothing else, but that wasn't what I'd planned, as although I only had one item of clothing to put on, it did really match the DIY I was about to do, so turning my back on the mirror for now, I went to fetch them.

They were overalls like the sort you see farmers wearing in old movies. Made of blue denim, like jeans, but with a part – the bib – that comes up over the chest, held in place by straps that go over the shoulders, cross over behind the back, and then down to the back. The braces attached to the bid, with big brass buttons. There were more buttons on the sides over hips to hold the sides together tighter as there was no belt. There were no legs either.

The actual name for these things, so I discovered, wasn't really overalls, but shortalls. The name coming for the obvious reason that the legs were cut down into shorts which made them a lot less like the sorts of things farmers would wear, and more like what toddlers wear. Which of course is why I was going to wear them.

The shortalls, had been in one of the various packs of clothes the charities had sent us, but of course, no teen boy would be seen dead in them, as they were more a girl thing, or at leas they would have been if they bean in more girlish colours than jean blue. Funny thing was, I didn't think anyone would have worn them, but Dad said he remembered a time back in the 1990s when these were in fashion, although not for long, so I guess that's where they came from, as it had to be said that very little of what the charities gave us, was anywhere near to be currently trendy. But then, when it's that or go naked, cos you've got nothing else, almost anything would do. Well not shortalls. At least not if you didn't want to look like a big baby, anyway.

As you probably guessed I'd hidden the shortalls away in the basement, during the last clear out of unwanted charity stuff – we sent what we didn't want back so they could send it to someone else in need – but had only had the chance to put them on over my normal clothes to see if they fit. Which they had, if a little baggy around the middle, despite my tightening the little adjusters at the back. Still they were the most babyish thing I'd seen in my size, so I put them on.

I got in a bit of tangle the first time I put the shortalls on, as I hadn't unfastened all the big brass buttons, but of course this time I knew different, unfastening everything before I started.

From there it was pretty much like putting on a normal pair of jeans, or shorts, you just had to remember to flip the bib and the straps out of the way before you put your feet into the leg holes and pulled it up to your waist.

Once the shortalls were at waist height you had to continue to hold them up, as due to there being no waistband in them, they wouldn't say there on their own which made it a bit tricky to get both the bid up on your chest as well as the shoulder straps up from behind you. THe latter could only be done, by bringing them around the sides, and then up and over, which was best done with two hands, but if you did that then you couldn't hold the bib in place, which is why it was all a bit tricky.

Eventually I managed it, and was able to get braces clipped into the top of the bid. The straps were a bit loose at this stage but that was something that I'd be able to fix later on. In the meantime, I fastened up the side buttons which pulled the shortalls into a better fit than they had been before. Only then did I make the adjustments I needed to the slides on the shoulder straps, to get them as tight as possible which had a unplanned for side-effect, that hadn't happened last time, as then I hadn't been wearing nappies.

Two things were different with the shortalls now I had a big bulky nappy on. The first was that the shortalls were no longer baggy around the middle, as the extra padding of the nappy took all of that up, with the side buttons pulling them in above my waist so that my bum still looked big, if not bigger than it had done before.

The second thing didn't become apparent, until the straps across the shoulders were tightened up, as these not only ensured the shortalls were a good fit but they also pulled them upwards, all the way upwards, until they could go upwards no more. This naturally pulled them up really close to the nappy, actually squashing it slightly, whilst not making it any smally. Just tighter.

There was also another effect of putting the shortalls over a nappy that I wouldn't become aware of until I took my first step in my new get up. And that was the noise created by the thick denim rubbing against the plastic covering on the nappy, that sounded every bit as loud, if not louder than when I'd been wearing the plastic pants which was going to make my construction project rather noisier than I'd expected.

Chapter Five

In the empty apartment the sounds of the rustling coming from beneath the shortalls I was wearing, seemed deafening, although there would soon be other sounds to cover that up. IN the meantime my biggest concern was in getting used to walking with so much stuff between my legs, which meant that I had to almost waddle as I walked down to the end bedroom where I'd left the trolley from the basement.

I soon put my concerns to one side as I started on the major construction project I had. Thankfully my preparation proved to be spot on and each of the heavy wooden pieces I needed were all lined up in the order I would use them, starting with one of the ends.

It stood on two very sturdy legs, that rose some eighteen inches [50 cm] from the ground on their own before the central panel joined them together, rising up another four or five feet up to it's curved top. This panel was painted the same pale blue as the rest, but had a cartoon scene painted onto the outside which for the moment I would be unable to see as I needed to lean it against the end of the trolley, so I could get the next part ready.

The base was the heaviest bit of the entire thing, which wasn't surprising as it was made of solid hardwood. Thankfully I didn't have to hold all of it up. Instead I could just about manage one end, as I lined up the two lugs at either end, which slotted into the respective slots jutting out of the end piece.

Now I had the base and one end together in a sort of knocked over L shape, I had to put the other end on. For this I made a temporary rest that I could lean that end against, to make it easier to lift up the base once more and slot the second set of lugs into the slots on this end, to make the entire thing into an H shape, albeit, one where the central part was only a third of the way up, rather than in the middle.

The heavy lifting was over for now which was just as well as I was starting to sweat a little. Not under my arms or anything like that as they were, after all, out in the open thanks to my not wearing a shirt under the shortalls, but down around and amongst the plastic coated nappies, I was more than a little moist but oddly that didn't feel bad. Just different. It certainly didn't stop me from continuing with my building project.

The back was the next part to be added to the construction. This like the front wasn't solid but made of a solid rail at top and bottom, with narrow spinal lined up every couple of inches along the length. This made it really light which was a good thing as I had to lift it right up to my own shoulder height so that I could slot it into the grooves that were in each of the end sections. Once it was though, it was an easy matter to slide it down until it sat on the base board leaving me only to poke a two restraining bolts through the end to make sure that it wouldn't lift up again.

The front part, which naturally I turned my attention to next, was pretty much the same as the back apart from it having a double slot set into the sides into which it would sit. They ran next to each other to allow the front rail to be lowered down to the ground to allow access to the baseboard. This naturally meant it was a bit more fiddley to get right, and more than once I managed to get one side in only for the other one to then jump out again. Eventually though I got it right, and it slid up and down without any trouble. A hefty catch at the top, on both ends, holding it up.

That was it. The main construction was over, and all I had to do now was to add a something onto the base and it was all finished. My very own crib.

Standing back for the first time from the finished article – something I'd been unable to do when I'd first put it together in the basement – I could see just what an imposing thing it was, and must have once been a magnificent centrepiece of some spoilt toddler's room and must have cost a fair bit when it was new, which it clearly wasn't now, as the dust and cobwebs I'd cleaned off it during the last couple of days went to prove.

Cleaned up it formed into probably the sturdiest piece of furniture in the entire apartment. The wood all hard, yet painted in soft colours, the spindles lining the sides, closely set, resembling the bars on a jail cell, while the baby animals painted on the end panels, reminding you of it's true intent. The thin mattress was covered in a plastic sheet that could have been the original wrapping but might just have been a leak guard, so I left it in place as at least it would provide a bit of a softer landing should my reconstruction not be up to scratch.

Standing beside the lowered rail, I leaned into the crib, placing both my hands on the baseboard, and pushed with all my strength.

Nothing happened. Not even a creak, so I decided there was only one thing for it. I was going to have to get inside.

I'd not dared risk this down in the basement where there was barely enough room to move around the crib, but up here in the apartment I had more than enough room to walk all around the crib, so getting inside it shouldn't have been a problem. Shouldn't have been, but it was.

TUrns out, with the nappy on, and with the shortalls buckled up so tight over them, I couldn't raise either of my legs high enough to actually get them over the side of the crib, even with the rail dropped. In the end I had to turn around, sit on the rail, and then tip myself backwards into the crib, which didn't make for the most dignified entry, but at least worked.

The vinyl covering on the mattress squeaked as I made it into the crib, sounding not unlike the noise I was already making, but that was the only sound heard. No sounds of wood splintering, or cracking, so it seemed I was safe enough to spin myself around, so that my legs were clear of the front rail, allowing me to raise it up until it clicked into place.

Making a second turned, I checked out how much space there was in the crib, thankful once more that I had yet to go through the growth spurts like most of my peers had, so that, with only a slight bend in my legs I could actually fit inside the crib.

It was everything I hoped it would be, but alas it was too early to be having a nap, just yet, as there was a little matter of something else that had to be made, before I could have dinner and then, retire to sleep for the first time in ten years, in a real crib.

The second construction project was a much simpler affair as it only involved unfolding a sort of flat pack, item, and then putting in some extra rails so it wouldn't fold up again along with a footrest. It was also on wheels making it easier to roll it down the corridor into the kitchen where I'd be need it a little later on.

When everything was ready, I could finally get into character, and been the teenage toddler I always wanted to be.

Chapter Six

When I'd made plans to turn myself into a toddler for the weekend I'd decided that unlike so many of the web sits I'd seen I didn't want to be a baby, as babies couldn't do anything, which I why I was going to be slightly older. Old enough to move around, and do selected things but of course, still too young not to be treated like a baby. This meant that once I was in character then I wouldn't be able to do most of the things a fourteen year old would normally do, including walking and speaking.

Okay, so most toddlers can do both of those things, at least to some degree, but if I just walked around – or rather waddled thanks to the nappy – than I wouldn't feel all that babyish. Talking wasn't going to be so much of an issue, as there was no one to talk to, once I'd made a phone check in with my parents, but all the same it would add to the image if I couldn't and anyway, I wanted to use the pacifier I'd bought.

I started my second toddler-hood in the kitchen by first sinking down to the floor, and then inserting the pacifier into my mouth. I'd washed it first, naturally while I was still a 'big boy', getting rid of the new plastic/rubber taste from the bulb as it passed through my teeth and into my mouth.

There I held it for a few seconds, testing it out with my tongue, which I did mainly as otherwise I wasn't sure I'd have even noticed it was there as it felt little more than as if I just had a finger in my mouth, although the base plate that was now pressed against the outside of my lips did feel a little strange. Just nothing like the strangeness that would start once I turned the ring on the front through.

It was a tricky thing to do on your own as I had to use both hands. One held the plate in place on my lips, while the other picked up the front ring until it stood out from the plate, and then turned it clockwise. This then expanded the bulb on the other side, in my mouth.

THe instructions on the back, gave the recommended turns the ring should be give, saying to only do it until the pacifier was large enough so that it couldn't slip out between the baby's teeth, or gums if it didn't have teeth. I, of course, had teeth, so I could have got away with fewer turns but, I did have a large mouth than most toddlers, so I gave it a few extra turns anyway until I could feel the bulb pressing against the inside of my mouth, filling it almost completely.

When I removed my hands from the base plate, it didn't more, remaining in place across my lips, just as I did when I attempted to push it out of the way with my tongue, only to find that my tongue pretty much couldn't do anything, let alone remove the pacifier.

I then attempted to pull the pacifier out, with my hands, but that didn't work either, which was then I remember to do a test to see if I could breath, even though I obviously still could, or else I'd have already passed out by then. Still it was surprising to discover that despite filling my mouth seemingly completely the pacifier made absolutely no difference to my normal breath, not even when I held my nose closed just to see what would happen.

With the pacifier firmly in place and my speech reduced to nothing it was time for me to become mobile which, with walking out of the question meant it was time to get on my hands and knees, for a trip into the living room, where I'd set up a play area for myself on the rug.

It was something I'd had some doubt about as the rug was right in front of the sofa, which wasn't so much of an issue as the massive picture window that was on the other side of it. Of course, being twelve floors up there was no one other than the occasional bird who could look in but would they have through to see a fourteen year old boy's big padded bum in a pair of shortalls, while he sucked on a pacifier?

However it was something that a toddler would do, and would have to do even if he didn't like it. Of course a real toddler, if he didn't like it would just move, but there were ways to prevent that and I had prepared for that.

The bag from the medical store was sitting on the rub waiting for me, along with another one, from the hardware store, I'd gone to with dad, when he'd picked up some things to secure our old house with. The things I'd bought were also for securing things, me.

Kneeling on the rug – sitting down was a bit tricky with such a big bum as I now had – I tipped out the bag so the harness fell into a big pile of tangled straps on the floor, which I then spent a few minutes first sorting out, and then working out just how I was meant to put it on.

Turns out the harness went on pretty much like a shirt or jacket would, where you put your arms in first and then pull the rest up, only it had to be done backwards, so that instead of fastening closed on your chest the buckles did up behind your back. It took me a few tries to sort that out. I also had to take down the top of the shortalls which was a shame but the bib and the shoulder straps just got in the way, tangling with the harness until it was all one big mess.

My arms went through the correct gaps in the harness, pulling the shoulder straps up into place on either side of my head, and the others going around the sides of my body. It was a bit of a fumble from there, to reach behind me to ensure that all the buckles were connected into the five-point buckle in the correct slots but with a bit of trial and error I got it right, and was soon pulling the straps up tight with the one way slides, until it was a good solid, fit around me, so I'd be unable to take it off until I was totally ready to do so.

I couldn't put the crotch strap on yet, without removing the shortalls completely and I didn't want to do that, so I made do without it. What I did attach though was the two reins to the furniture. The loop on the end of one was put under one of the legs of the sofa, to my left, while the other one, went over the other side where it was anchored around a radiator. The other ends of both of these was then attached to the ring right in the centre of my back, where they were locked with a timed padlock from the hardware store that wouldn't open for two hours.

For a moment I continued to crouch where I was on the rug looking at the two straps that looped away from me. Neither was particularly long, no more then four feet, and there was slack in both, but, if I'd calculated it right, I would be unable to reach either end, or in fact move very far at all from where I was. At least that was the plan. Now I had to test it.

Slowly I attempted not to stand, as I knew that wasn't going to be possible but to kneel up. Instantly I felt the harness tighten across my chest as the straps became taut until raising any further became impossible.

Next I turned my attention to my range. Shuffling slowly to the left, and then the right to see how far I could get which, as it turned out was just about to either end of the rub before the strap on the opposing side would prevent me from going any further.

Forwards and backwards gave me a bit more room to wonder, in that I could actually come right off the rug, but that was about it, so I was clearly stuck right where I was, just like a real toddler would be, if it's parents were busy doing something else and couldn't watch it. Of course they'd have provided their kid with something to do, and I'd done the same.

The remote control for the outlandish entertainment system the apartment came with, was sitting within reach of my new location, with it's mind boggling array of buttons, but I only needed to press one. PLAY.

At once the small box beneath the mammoth TV light up, signalling that the blu ray player was coming to live. That was followed a few seconds later, by a click as the TV came out of stand-by – I know we shouldn't leave it on standby but as I couldn't reach the buttons on the set itself, I had no choice – and a moment after that the screen came to life as the disc started to play.

It wasn't actually a Blu-ray that was playing but a DVD I'd burnt myself, featuring a cross selection of little kids TV shows, from the olden days that I'd downloaded from the internet. None of which I'd actually seen before, as I hadn't been born when they'd been actually broadcast, which is why'd I'd selected them. Well that and how they'd been recommended by people on line as the most childish things ever, which they really were. Filled with overly bright colours, puppet animals of unknown species, and presenters who were old enough to know better, yet talked complete rubbish, often not even using real words. In other words the complete opposite of the 'educational' TV that little kids are subjected too these days. And it was great.

Watching the inane shows, was strangely relaxing, as if there was something about their swirling colours that was oddly relaxing yet every now and again I was made aware of the situation I'd put myself in, if I happened to move to one side or the other, causing the harness to once more tighten around me limiting my movement in the exact way I had intended that it would. Yet despite this There was still one thing playing on my mind. Would I be able to use the nappies I'd been wearing for most of the day by then, for their original purpose. Could I wee in them.

Naturally it had been longer than I could remember since I'd wet myself, so I really wasn't sure if I could or not. I know that sounds silly, but it's often mentioned on the sites I've been on as something a lot of people have trouble with. Well not those who are bed-wetters obviously, just everyone else. Still there were instructions about how to do it, and I was going to try them even if I was still a little worried about the repercussions.

Given that I'd had very little to drink during the day – on purpose – I hoped that when I did wee it wouldn't be all that much as I'd seen just how much my bladder can produce when I really need to go and I had serious doubts about if the nappies could hold that much liquid even with the plastic pants to back them up. If not, then I'd have to throw the shortalls away as I couldn't wash them, and then there was the matter of the rug I was on and couldn't get off. If that got wee on it, they'd be questions I couldn't answer when mum and dad got home.

Mumbling something that wouldn't have made sense even if I didn't have a pacifier inflated in my mouth, as I once more concentrated on not concentrating about going to the toilet. I knew it was a contradiction but the more I thought about it then the more I thought about it and, well that's just how things went, over and over again, getting me exactly nowhere.

I tried a few of the other suggestions I'd read about. Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly whilst rubbing my tummy seemed to be the most relaxing, even if my hand could barely fit inside the bib part of the shortalls let along move around.

Then there was the matter of a position. Like nearly every boy on the planet, when I wanted to have a wee, I'd be standing up, then just whip it out and let fly. Now though both standing and taking it out were out of the question, as I was stuck where I was, and even if I hadn't been wearing nappies and plastic pants, the shortalls didn't actually have a fly zip. So sitting down seemed to be the only option.

I'd been kneeling up on the rug so far, as that had proved to be comfortable, now though I started to re-arrange myself, which with limited movement sideways and with a thick nappy on, proved a little troublesome.

More than once, as I attempted to swing my legs around from underneath me, I felt the harness tighten against my torso, but eventually, with some effort, I managed to get my heavily padded bum down on the rug, which unleashed an entire new barrage of feelings along with the realisation of why it is that toddlers sit in that way they do.

It's a funny thing but you can almost tell the age of a kid from the way they sit on the floor. Think about it. Teenagers, and adults, will sit with their legs straight out in front of them, while tweens, and kids in junior school always sit with their legs crossed, but toddlers sit in the way I was with their legs, bowed out in front of them, and the soles of their feet almost touching. The reason for this simply down to them wearing nappies. The thickness between their legs preventing them from sitting in either of the other ways. It was also a great way to maintain your balance.

Now I was sitting, I followed the final plan I had, closing my eyes and pretending that I wasn't siting in the living room, wearing a nappy, but was on the loo, doing what came naturally there and it worked.

My entire body relaxed as my bladder finally gave way, and wee started to flow into the nappy. It was nothing like I'd ever felt before. It was so hot to start with, and it spread out so fast, managing to get into all the parts of the nappy, and all around my private parts in a way that was totally, and utterly wonderful. The warms just seemed to surround me down there, as the nappy absorbed everything, expanding in the process, making them feel even more bulky than before making me wonder just how much the nappy could hold.

Stopping wee once it has started has to be one of the trickiest things to do in the world, especially given how much trouble I'd gone to in order to start in the first place. Still I managed it so the nappy would have time to soak it all up. Then I started again.

It took one more stop before my bladder was empty – where it had all come from I had no clue. Each time, I added a new stream the nappy would swell up more and more, getting heavier and heavier as it did so. And just like I'd read about, as it did so getting bigger and bulkier, the more I enjoyed it which has to be the weirdest thing about wanting to wear a nappy in the first place.

My only wish was that I could see what I now looked like, but I couldn't even though I was surrounded by glass in the picture window, and the TV set, nothing was being reflected back to me so I just had to make do with peering down inside the front of the bib, where even in the dim light there, I could see the 'wettness strip' on the front of the nappy had changed colour to show anyone that I'd wet myself. Something which I personally was only very well aware of.

Whenever I moved from now on, the nappy made a slight whooshing noise as my wee flowed from one part of the nappy to another, as if compensating for whatever movement I'd made which was considerable as I ran my hand underneath me to check for any leaks. Thankfully there wasn't any.

Having raised my bottom from the rug, to do the check, I got another surprise as I sat back down again as the wetness inside the nappy was pressed out from beneath my buttocks, shooting up both back and front, going between my cheeks and most noticeably all around my nuts giving me an instant erection.

I became totally transfixed by this sensation. I'd never expected anything like this, despite having read about it before, and yet it had to be the biggest turn on that I'd ever had, so much so that what I really wanted to do right there and then, on the living room rug, was to have a wank. So I did.

It wasn't easy wanking with a nappy on, especially as I had to remain sitting bolt upright all the time. I was more used to wanking, laying down, or even reclining slightly, plus it was something else, that I tended to do without having anything covering my prick.

Without standing up I couldn't take the shortalls off, and daren't take the nappy off, as there was still liquid rolling around in there so I was just going to have to make do with whatever I could which wasn't all that much as I couldn't get my hand inside the plastic pants either as the elastic waistband was just too darn tight, with the way I was sitting.

The only option left to me, was to push my hands down inside the front of my shortalls – undoing the buttons on the hips made this rather easier – and then to rub the front of the nappy which naturally pressed the now warm and wet nappy even tighter into my groin, but helped me achieve the thing that I most wanted more than anything in the world right then.

In less than a minute or so, a second, also warm, liquid was inside my nappy. This, like the first, was also initially hot, but there was considerably less of it, yet it felt way better than having wee had.

As was normal after such an activity I felt a little sleepy after everything was done and may have actually dozed off although I can't be sure, but the next thing I was aware of was a sudden tug at my chest, as the harness tightened around me, as I'd leaned back further than it would allow.

Looking at the counter on the front of the Blu-ray player I could see I still had some time to go before the padlock holding the reins in place would be released, during which time all I could do was to sit in the wet nappy and wait, until I could get changed, which again was something that a real toddler would have to do, so was all part of the experience, even if it was much less exciting now.

It's a funny thing, but when the hot wee had hit the nappy it had felt electric, so much so that I'd wanked right off but now things were all cooling down, it felt completely different, and not in a good way. There was a bit of itching, but not so much that I couldn't put up with it, all the same, I would be grateful when I could get this nappy off and another one on.

Chapter Seven

The highchair looked nothing like you'd expect a highchair to look. There were no chrome legs, no plastic arms, or a bucket style seat, instead, in a way that totally matched the crib, it was made of solid wood. Four square legs, with matching cross beams, lead up to a square solid looking seat. The solid sides rose up from that a short bit, while the back went up much further, including as it did a tiny little head rest. Other than that rest through there was no padding on it anywhere. Not even on the seat, although the seat itself was sculpted into the shape of a bottom, which could be comfortable. Or at least I hoped so anyway.

Actually it's probably a good thing this highchair wasn't like a modern one as if it had been then I probably wouldn't have been able to sit in it and have my dinner, which is what I fully intended to do, now that I'd cleaned myself up and was in a fresh nappy.

I hadn't heard the light click that signalled the timed lock release me from the harness reins half an hour earlier as I'd been too busy watching the TV show, I'd put on loop. In fact I didn't even know I was free to move about once more, until I went to move sideways – swinging in time to the music on the blindly colourful TV show would you believe – and fell over.

Yes I actually fell over, as there was now nothing there to stop me, whereas for the last two hours of so there had been, as I'd been harnessed to the furniture.

I landed on my side, more than a little winded, and a little in shock, while I worked out what had happened. It only being when I saw the rein laying out just beside my head that I realised I that the lock had sprung open and I was now free.

Of course, my first priority was to get out of the wet nappy I was still wearing, which should have meant a trip back to the improvised changing table in the back bedroom, but if anything the previous hour and a half sitting in a wet nappy had taught me anything it was just how much wetness there was being held back by my plastic pants. Most of it had been soaked up by the nappy of course, but some of it hadn't been, as I'd felt it move about when I'd fallen over.

THis naturally gave rise to worries about what would happen to it when I took the nappy and plastic pants off. Or more to the point where would it go. I couldn't risk getting it on the carpet even in a room my family didn't actually use, so there was only thing for it, I'd have to get changed in the wet room.

The wet room was just what it said it was. A room that was designed to be wet. The entire room was tiled from top to bottom, with a slightly sunken floor, that included several drains, making it look like one giant shower stall, with is basically what it was. Perfect for changing a wet nappy, and so easy to clean up afterwards, so that's where I headed.

It would have been the easiest thing in the world for me to stand up and walk to the wet room, but babies don't walk, and although toddlers sometimes do, I decided that I was going to crawl, so over I went onto my hands and knees, with what remained of my wee sloshing about, now back between my legs rather than under my bum, and off I went.

Not surprisingly crawling wasn't something that I'd done a lot of as a teenaged, so it felt a bit weird, something that certainly wasn't helped by the liquid sloshing about whenever I moved my legs, or the way the shortalls pulled up tightly around my bum, squashing the cold and damp nappy tighter into my bum, but it wasn't all unpleasant. In fact I rather liked it even if the hardness of the wooden, and then tiled flooring, was a touch hard on my knees.

Due to the way the shortalls tightened up as I crawled I unsnapped the braces from the shortalls, just as I was getting to the wet room, and wriggled my way out of them on the way in. I had to wriggle quite hard too, as now the nappy had expanded the shortalls had become that little bit tighter, making them trickier to get off. Once they were off, I chucked them out through the door, out of the way, before I got down to the more serious business of changing my own nappy.

Now I could have just stood up over the drain, pulled the plastic pants down, and then taken off the nappy, like I was changing out of more normal clothes, but I wanted to stay in character as much as possible, and get changed like a real toddler would so I did it all while laying on my back. Well, right up to the last part anyway. Then I had to stand up in order to reach the shower controls.

As with putting the nappy on, taking it off, was all a matter of rocking my hips and lifting my bum up at the right time to allow things to be removed from underneath me. The plastic pants went first, naturally, just peeled down my legs, or at least they did once I'd managed to stretch the elastic far enough to go over the expanded nappy. Then they got tossed into the corner so I could wash them out once I was done with the next bit. The nappy itself.

Peeling the tapes wasn't as horrible as I thought it was going to be, as the wee wasn't up that far, and although the tapes stuck fast, once you had the little bit at the end lifted up the rest came away really easily.

With the tapes off, the sides of the nappy naturally dropped down from my hips, leaving me just the front part lift up and push down between my legs, from where I could pull it out from underneath me.

I gasped the moment my bare bum came down on the wet room tiles as they were really, REALLY cold. NOt that anyone heard the gasp or in fact I actually made any sound as I still had the pacifier in my mouth having, strangely forgotten all about it being there.

Anyway, once the nappy was off, I did break out of character as I didn't have another one to change into with me, and like I said, I needed to stand up in order to work the shower. Boy did I need that shower too, as my wee seemed to have managed to get everywhere. Or everywhere where the nappy had been anyway. Plus I had to wash out the plastic pants too.

Drying both myself and the plastic pants on towels, I left the wet room the way I'd arrived, on my hands and knees but now with the added problem of having to bring my clothes with me – carrying things when crawling isn't easy – or at least the plastic pants as I left the shortalls where they were.

Down at the end of the hall, I got out another nappy, and myself onto the changing mat where I made short work of taping myself into it, after a liberal application of both baby powder and baby oil just to be better safe than sorry. Then, with the plastic pants back in place over the top, but without wearing anything else as toddler tend not to get dressed again late in the evening, I made my way back to the kitchen for something to eat.

I'd previously position the highchair, at the end of the kitchen counter, with the detachable food tray sitting beside it, within easy reach, along with all the things I'd prepared to eat. NOw all I had to do was get into the highchair.

If I'd been standing up the back of the highchair would have been about chest height so getting into it really wasn't that tricky, even if it was a bit of a tighter fit than I'd been expecting. A lot of that was down to the nappy of course, which I hadn't been wearing when I'd initially tried the chair out. With the added padding around my middle, the arms of the highchair hugged me a little, but it wasn't too bad really.

Snuggled into the seat, I didn't need to use the restraining straps that came with it, but seeing as they were there I thought why not, and buckled it around my waist, pulling it tight, before adding the crotch strap to the mix which pulled a little against the nappy, but not in an unpleasant way. Not at all, in fact.

Leaning over I picked up the food tray, carefully lining up the long arms so they would slot into the arms of the highchair, which they did. The tray coming towards my bare stomach, until it clicked into place, effectively pinning me into the chair, much more than the straps actually did.

My legs were too long to fit on the footrest, once the tray was in place, as there was no where for my knees to go, so I just had to leave my feet hanging short of the floor, which did had to the feeling of being a toddler in a high chair.

It was time to eat which naturally meant I had to remove the pacifier from my mouth. This worked in the exact same way it had gone in. By one hand holding the plate on my lips and the other turning the big ring to make the bulb inside my mouth deflate.

The End