Simmy - My Story Simmy my story, I think it all started from the age of six at which time I was wetting the bed every night. This was much to the displeasure of my mother who constantly nagged me to stop and I must admit it was no fun waking up every morning lying in a puddle of pee which had formed on my rubber sheet. My mother decided to take effective action by threatening to put me back into nappies, this did not work of course so she duly put the threat into action. I can distinctly remember the night it first happened; I was playing in the dinning room and it was close to my bedtime and I heard a shout from my mother in the living room. So I ran through to see what she wanted and to my horror there was a nappy lying on the floor and with my mother standing beside it holding a pair of plastic pants in her hand. It suddenly dawned on me she was actually going to do it - SHE WAS GOING TO MAKE ME WEAR A NAPPY. The next order was to take my shoes and socks off, by this time I was close to tears but I sat down and took off my shoes and socks and stared at the large white expanse of toweling that laid on the mat in front of me. "Come here" she said and where she pulled down my shorts and my underpants and laid me on the nappy and pinned it in place. By this time I was sobbing but I was to upset to object. My mother then pulled me to my feet and one by one I put my feet into the plastic pants which were pulled up around my waist. This nightly ritual continued of being sent upstairs to collect a clean nappy and a pair of plastic pants where I would have to go back down stairsand often in front of my father and sister I would be stripped and put into a nappy. This at first caused me much pain but I must admit I started to enjoy it and I was not too worried when I woke in the morning with a wet nappy. This continued until was nearly nine when I stopped wetting the bed. After a while I missed wearing my my nappy and plastic pants so I started to experiment with plastic bags and white towels which did not quite have the same effect but it gave me some pleasure. This would involve wating until bedtime and taking a towel from the cupboard, tearing the corners of a large plastic bag. The towel would then be wrapped around my waist and the plastic bag pulled over the towel. I was never caught but I did have a couple of close shaves. When I was ten my mother started to look after the son of one of her friends during the day, he was called Tim and he was a couple of years younger than me. Tim and I became great friends spending a lot of time together. Our games consisted of the usual rough and tumble and the usual peek into each others pants to compare the sizes of our willys - as you do when you are ten. One day we were paying a game of Japs and Commando's in my bedroom and Tim got hurt and started to cry. I told him to stop being such a big baby and stop crying. This had no effect so I further threatened that if he did not stop crying that if he acted like a baby he should be dressed as one. Again there was no effect so I pulled down Tims shorts and his pants wrapped a towel aroung his backside and pulled a plastic bag up over the towel. This made him stop cying in fact he did not look displeased at all. After the first time this started many years of fun where Tim would often ask me in a very coy voice if he could be put into a nappy. I remember one occaision when I was 13 and Tim must have been 11 and he came to stay with me one friday night. Our parents were going out for a meal and I was put in charge for the evening. While we were getting our orders of what not to do and what time to go to bed I noticed Tim slumped on th sofa behind me. There was a distinct little mound under his trousers - the randy little sod could not wait. So when our parents left we ran upstairs where Tim was strppied naked and put into a nappy. We were quite sophisticated by this time and we had a good supply of nappies and several pairs of plastic pants which had been pinched off washing lines at night. The plastic pants were tight but we found if we heated them in frint of the fire they wouls stretch and fit both of us. All good things must come to an end and Tims mum stopped working and he did not come around very often. Since we both went our seperate ways to university and found our own lives I miss the fun Tim and I used to have. f