Nappies for Mumps! When I was about six weeks off my 12th birthday I got the mumps. I was very ill and had to stay in bed for several weeks. One of the worst bits was that all my glands swelled up, particularly the ones in my groin. When I was almost better I wanted to get up, and my mum really wanted me out of bed, but the doctor said it was dangerous for me to walk around with the groin glands still so swollen. Mummy asked him if there was anything that could be done, and I heard him telling her in a low voice that for younger kids, about four and maybe up to five, putting a nappy on the sick child worked as it supported the glands and they did not sag. But he said for a nearly 12 year old you would have to put two or three nappies on him for it to work. When the doctor had gone my mummy sat on the bed and told me what he had said, although I already knew and was frantically trying to think of reasons why it shouldn�t happen. But mummy was decided and she told me 'We' were going to try it. I had two younger brothers, aged nine and five, and my mummy has had her share of nappy stuff. Unlucky for me, the nappies, dozens of them were still in the storage wardrobe on the landing outside my room. My mum went out of the room and soon returned with a bundle of nappies, white cotton with a red border which I remembered so well. I had even changed my youngest brother a few times under mummy�s supervision. She pulled the bedclothes off, and not listening to my protests, told me to take off my pajama bottoms, which I told her I didn�t want to do so she asked me if I wanted to be spanked, sick or not. So I took off my bottoms, and she pushed my top up so I was almost naked. Then she lifted my legs up and put the folded nappies, there were two of them folded together under me and let my legs down again. Then she pulled the nappy up between my legs, and all of a sudden I got a fantastic thrill down there. I became excited and felt my willy tingling as she pinned my nappy on first one side, then the other, then back to the first one to tighten it, then she also tightened the other side and tucked it in al around so that it supported the glands, and also increased the tight fit which I was loving! I tried not to show my pleasure but it felt great! She helped me to dress in loose short pants and a tee shirt, and then I was allowed to sit in the living room and watch telly for the first time in weeks! Mummy promised it would be our secret, and showed me how to loosen one side to go to the toilet, but warned me to be sure it was always on good and tight and if it wasn�t to ask her for help. But a bit of a disaster. I fell asleep, and while I was sleeping my younger brothers came in from school and say me lying on the sofa. My tee shirt had drifted up my back, and my shorts had drifted down, so I awoke to hear my younger brother shouting in glee �Look - Paul is wearing a nappy!� �Wow! is he back t being a baby?� �Can I change him if he�s wet?� That was as far as he got as Mummy grabbed him and gave him a few hard smacks on his five-year-old fanny and gave the younger boys a lecture on how sick I had been and that the nappy was more a bandage as a support for the swollen glands. Tears rolling down his cheeks, my brother apologised while the older one, nine and worldly wise just looked on and wondered. I fell into a routine of being able to manage the nappy over the next few days, and didn�t often need help. Mummy would dress me in the mornings just to be sure but I managed the rest myself. On the following Saturday, I'll never forget the day I was up before my brothers and having had my breakfast, sat down to watch the telly as I did most mornings, as I still got pretty tired after my illness. I fell asleep, and while I was asleep I dreamed that the nappy I was wearing was for real and that I was only a baby, and that it was normal to pee in a nappy. I don't know how long I was asleep, but my little brother woke me again this time screaming at the top of his voice, �Mummy come here quick! Paul had wet his pants and nappy!� In horror I woke up to feel all wet around my bottom and nether regions and looking down I could see my short pants were soaked. My mummy was furious, but tried be to calm and told the boy to stop. She grabbed me and almost lost it when she saw I had wet the sofa. She pulled me up the stairs muttering under her breathe things I couldn�t hear. I was close to tears as she took me into the bathroom, took off my tee shirt and then my sandals and sodden socks and then opened my pee-soaked shorts and told me to stand in the bath. She then unpinned the soaking nappy and threw it and the shorts into a bucket beside the toilet and she then proceeded to sponge the bits of me that head been drowned in my pee. Then she got a towel and dried me. She laid the towel on the floor and told me told on it and wait for her. I was aware of my two younger brothers had witnessed all this, as my mummy came back into the bathroom and knelt beside me. To my horror she produced a big tin of baby powder which she proceeded to spread all over my front, and then she lifted my legs and did the bit in the middle. Now I was starting to sob at the humiliation of it all, being powdered like a baby in front of two much younger boys. Mummy told me to turn over, and she powdered my bottom with loads of powder. Then she turned me over again and lifted my legs and pushed a really thick nappy, I think there were three folded twice, under my bottom and pulled them up and pinned them tightly on me. They were so thick my legs were well spread and I wondered if I would be able to walk. I was really crying now and mummy was saying mean things to me about being a big baby. Then again to my horror I felt her pulling a pair of plastic pants over my feet and up my legs. I had to lift my bottom again to let her pull the pants into place. I had to stand then while she tucked the plastic pants in all around in case I had another accident she said, to my horror, I felt I had to go to the loo but in my upset state I couldn�t say it, and I didn�t want to go through that whole routine again so I just held it in thinking I would go when she had left me alone. Then another bombshell-- she told me that because of what had happened I would in future have to ask her to bring me to the toilet If I wanted to go as it was now more complicated with the plastic pants and all, and I cried more and more as my kid brothers could barely stop from laughing out loud at my discomfort. Finally my mum said I would have to wait for my shorts to be washed before putting on pants again and anyway baby boys don't need pants while they are at home. This caused me to burst out crying like a baby does and tears flooded down my face. My mum then gave me a tee shirt belonging to my nine-year-old brother, which didn�t even come to the top of my nappy and told me to go and watch telly, to sit on a wooden chair, and that I was lucky not to have been given a hard spanking for all the trouble I had caused. I sadly still blubbering made my way to the living room. All of a sudden a series of sobs shook my body, I was really heartbroken at my fate hearing my brothers whispering about me as they followed behind mocking my walk which was now a waddle because of the thick nappy I had on, and again disaster. With one of the sobs, I started to pee again. I panicked but I couldn�t stop it! I flooded the nappy hoping that the thicker one would not let it show through. Then the unthinkable, as I wet, I cried even harder and in horror felt the need to poo and again trapped by the two boys behind it came out slowly at first then in a flood I shit my nappy like a six-month-old and my older brother spotted it. �Wow. He�s pooping his nappy!� he shouted in delight!!!! Mummy came into the room and saw my nappy was soaked - easy to see through the clear plastic! She turned me around and saw the big bulge at the back. �We have a bit to go with you, haven�t we?� she said as she led me back to the bathroom. �You two better come with me,� she said to my brothers. �I'm going to show you how to change Paul's nappy in case I'm not here and he needs changing.� TO BE CONTINUED