U. N. Known Writer

Summers at GG's

Chapters 10-17

Back when I was eleven GG's house and grounds seemed to go on forever, with just about every sort of environment that a healthy, imaginative – or in my case overly imaginative – boy could think off.

There was the house itself of course, with the many rooms, including ones I could use just for myself. Then there was the formal part of the garden, with the neat lawns, that were great for running around on in bare feet as a little Indian Brave waiting to be captured. There was also the heavily wooded section at the back – the 'wild garden' as GG called it – which had never been tamed. In there it was like a jungle, with trees, bushes, all gone wild, that made a great place for building a hideout (which I successfully did), a tree house (less successful), and even a pond of cool and surprisingly clear water that was great to swim in, even with the baggy woolen trunks that were part of my evacuees costume, until such time as I got up the nerve to ditch them in favour of something a lot more natural.

Right at the back though was a small shed, long disused with most of it's contents transferred to GG's shed of stuff, beside the house. It was in a terrible condition yet somehow managed to stay standing, and fairly solid despite many missing boards, a broken window and the carpet of knee-high weeds that covered the area both inside and out.

There wasn't much inside, just an old locker, a big box filled with odd lengths of chain, and a few bits of tools, long rusted beyond use, although there was a small barrow that had four wheels that, with some oil could perhaps still be used, and would be, just not straight away.

As soon as I found the place I know I had the 'secret hideout' that GG always said every boy in the 1940s should have had. And the perfect place to try out something that GG had told had happened to a lot more of the evacuee children than the government, even back then or even now, would ever admit.

Like everyone else, all I'd heard about the evacuation programme was how big an adventure it had been for all those taking part. Of course, the kids had missed their parents to start with but, as they discovered the wonders of the English countryside, they'd had too much fun to give the grim, grime covered slums they mostly came from a second thought.

However, like so many things, there was also a much darker side too. How some of the country folk were less than hospitable to their young visitors. Often resenting having them more or less forced on them, leading to them being treated badly, or even totally ignored.

Then there were others that wanted kids to stay with them, not so much to welcome them into their family, but more so to use them a free labour on their farms, or in their business. Some going to extreme lengths to make sure the boys especially remained with them, even after they could have gone home, as they'd come to rely on their labour.

It was an idea that fascinated me, even though I knew I wouldn't have enjoyed any of the experiences that those boys would have gone through, yet it was what I wanted to do, and the secret hideout gave me the perfect chance to try it all out.

The first thing I did, was make up a little rule book for myself, all written out, by hand, and numbered in a neat little column with the ideas taken from the various things GG had told me, plus a few of my own ideas thrown in to make it more exciting as and where I thought that needed to be done.

Some of the rules didn't really make any sense, such as always referring to the person in charge as 'Sir'. This I hadn't understood when GG had mentioned it, as boys back then were way more polite than today, so why would this make any difference but apparently it did. The normal form of address for an adult then was 'Mister', with only teachers being 'Sir'. By making the boys call them 'sir' they were reminded who was in charge. Simple but effective.

Other rules had more direct effect on me, just as having to work barefoot, the reason given to be to prevent wear and tear on shoes which were hard to come by on the ration system that operated during the war, but the real reason was to prevent the boys from running away of course. NOt that I minded as in my time at GG's that summer I'd come to love running around in bare feet.

Another rule, similar to that one, was also to prevent clothes from having to be replaced, or even washed, and that was to remove my shirt if it got so hot, or if I was doing something then to also take off my shorts and just stay in the thin undershorts.

These looked pretty much like a regular pair of shorts, but where a little smaller, however they were made from really thin cotton and had no lining in them, like the over shorts did. The main thing was though was they tended to cling if they got wet, even with sweat, so that anyone watching would have been able to see the perfect outline of my bum, up to and including the seeing the darker line of the crack, and would be able to see my size and shape of my willy and nuts, even if they weren't bouncing around from the work I was doing.

So it was that I started sorting out the disused shed, when I found for the first time a metal bracket for a drain pipe that was, I soon discovered the perfect size for my neck.

I didn't have any padlocks back then, and wasn't even sure if that idea occurred to me. Rather I stuck with what the brackets had been intended to be secured with. Two large bolts with nuts that were rusted enough to need a spanner to be tightened or indeed loosened.

Now I had something that was very close to a sort of slave collar, although again I didn't think of it in those terms, or even use the 'slave' word, not even when I put together all the lengths of chain that I could find – joined with more nuts and bolts – and fastened one end to one of the concreted in posts that made up the corners of the shed, and the other end to my collar.

"That will stop you running away until the work is done." I told myself with a smile, before I noticed a smear of rust dust on my shirt.

"Don't get your clothes dirty!" I was told by the voice in my head, even though GG never once complained about the mucky state I could get myself into, as according to him, if boys weren't meant to be dirty, then they'd be girls.

Pretending to be under the stern gaze of some wicked factory boss, I unbuttoned and peeled off my shirt, laying it to one side out of the way, right at the end of now reduced range.

But there was more. My knee length 1940s shorts which I removed by simply unbuttoning the fly, as I'd already dropped the braces from my shoulders in order to take my shirt off.

Peeling the shorts down my legs I laid them on top of the my shirt, leaving me in the thin white undershorts only this time there was something different about them. They weren't so much sticking to me, as I had a stick poking into them. My erection making them totally pointless. So I removed them.

I felt really strange. It wasn't the first time I'd been naked outside, that had been skinny dipping. It also wasn't the first time I'd had what I then called a stiffy, or even had a stiffy while tied up, as I'd already been the captured living room by that time. However this was the first occasion when those two things had both happened at once. Being both naked, and tied up, excited. And I liked it. A lot.

Still something didn't seem quite right. I was just too clean to have been a working boy. My eleven year old body was no longer as pale as it had been when I'd arrived at GG's for the summer. Now a couple of weeks in, I had more tan lines than I'd ever had before. My knees and arms from the elbows down, being chestnut brown, while my lower legs, upper arms and the rest of my torso, had a the start of a great tan. My thighs, covered my the shorts were a little more pasty, but still had some colour to them, while my bum and groin, looked like they belonged to a ghost, having not seen the sun but for whenever I would dive into the pond, during skinny dipping.

It would never do. Any pictures of working boys, always showed them as being filthy so I did something about it. Bending down, I picked up the sandy dirty from the ground and rubbed it all over myself, until I not so much looked like something who'd been working in the woods all day, as someone who'd been down a mine for decades.

Once the perpetrations were over, it was time to start work, which on this occasion involved, trying to remove as many of the weeks as I could from around the shed. I'd already attempted to just pull them up but this hadn't work so now I'd raided GG's gardening tools and was now using a hoe to dig down underneath them and lift them up by the roots, which turned out to be very effective, but also hard work.

The sun was hot that day, and although I was under the cover of the large trees that surrounded the hut, it wasn't long before I was sweating in my self-enforced labour. Little trickles of moisture ran down both sides of my body, creating little tracks in the dust I'd smeared on myself, that tickled, as they progressed down to a point where they could drip to the floor.

I took a rest without even realising it, even though, according to the rules, there was a penalty for stopping work without being told I could. I whipping.

Not a real whipping as I understand it from the movies I watched where the victim would be stung up my their arms and lashed until they bleed, passed out, or indeed died but something rather more mundane – or so I thought until I tried it – involving any old bit of stick, and a naughty boy's bottom.

It wasn't easy to do on your own, but that didn't stop it from hurting. Not at all. Still I was a boy, not a girl so in the talk of the time I could 'take it like a man' and had soon landed ten good blows on my own bare bum with the cleanest straightest bit of stick I could find.

By the time it was done my bum stung, but it wasn't so bad. Worse than I'd been expecting but not as bad, I now realised, as it would have been had someone else been doing it, and it did give me the excuse to stop work for a little longer as I had a drink from the old bottle I'd carried with me.

Work resumed with the hoe but only for ten minutes as that was as long as it took for the amount of liquid I'd taken on board to want out. (I know I should have sipped it not gulped it down!), and I looked for somewhere to wee.

Of course under normal circumstances I'd have done what any eleven year old boy would have done, in the woods, or even in a park, or on a few occasions in just about any old place where there was no actual toilet. I'd have just walked a short way from where I was doing whatever I was doing, found a suitable tree, and given it a hefty watering. Now though I was a working boy who wasn't allowed to stop, and who was chained to a certain point. So clearly I was going to have to wee right where I was. Only I didn't fancy that idea.

Returning to work, I hoped to divert my attention away from my full bladder. It didn't work.

I did everything that a young boys knows to stop himself from wetting himself, including crossing my legs, but that just made hoeing impossible. Then the inevitable happened. I just let go.

Standing there, I let out a mighty big stream of wee just rushed out of me, splattering onto the ground and over the blade of the hoe, as I first experienced the full thrill of peeing outside, knowing that it wouldn't be my last.

The cage door popped open with a little click hat I could barely hear even though it was nearly silent in my secret room. I was sitting by that time, but with my knees pulled up to my chest, and my arms folded around them as this seemed to take some of the weight off my bottom.

Slowly I repositioned myself, if somewhat awkwardly, causing the chains to rattle and clink together, as I turned over and slowly crawled out on all fours, in the complete reverse of how I'd got in there in the first place.

I had no idea what the time was, although it felt like I'd been in the cage for ages, but it probably hadn't been. Still, all through the time, my erection had fought a seemingly non-stop battle with the chastity device. One it naturally always lost, but which didn't stop it from constantly leaking, so that by the time I got out of there, the inside of the rubber jockstrap was totally wet and sticky.

It was a relief to get out, as finally I could stretch out my body, feeling just how tight and stiff my joints had become, which even made me wince a few times as I worked out the kinks.

Of course the sorest part of my entire body was my bum, which I knew without even looking was still very red from the spankings I'd given myself, yet despite the pain from when I was actually doing it, the ache I now felt was rather good, and I have to say that I liked it, which was just as well as it was probably going to stay that way all summer, just as it had done when I'd been twelve.

I needed to wee before I went upstairs to continue with my duties as a little slave boy, but that didn't take long, although the jock strap made it a bit more awkward that usual.

Heading up the stairs reminded me of just how heavy all the metal work was that I was now wearing, meaning that I had to make a formidable effort just to keep moving anything like normally. The first two steps going without trouble but there was a little trip on the third, that reminded me to take things a little more easily as the one foot of chain between my ankles drastically reduced the lenth of my stride.

Fresh air cooled my warmed and slightly sweaty skin as it blew in from the windows that had been left open, turning me towards the kitchen where I knew it was time to eat.

However before I could eat I had to cook. Well, I didn't have to as there were more than enough snacks and things I could have had, but it was a slave's duty to cook, so it was always mine.

I'd previous selected a recipe that I hadn't made before – yeah I can cook – having already made sure that GG had all the ingredients I would need, but which would take some work, to get ready.

There was no time to waste, as I was really hungry, and after all slaves had to do what they were told, when they were told, so I got on with it, first peering over the recipe once more to know where to start.

Quickly I discovered, as I moved around the kitchen, that what would normally be routine tasks, take up a lot more time and are a lot more difficult when you're bound in heavy chains. It took me ages to get the hang of just moving my arms, without the chains getting in the way. Not to mention the way they tended to knock things over as they dragged across the counters.

Then there was the hobbling chain, that not only reduced my gait, but also prevented me from being able to turn around as fast as I was used to. Something else that had to be got used to.

Thankfully I had taken some of this into consideration when picking the meal, as it was something that, once assembled, could just be put in the oven to cook, so there was no need of the hob, or hot pans and the like, although there was an awful lot of chopping to do first.

It took nearly half an hour to get the food in the oven, which was longer that it would take to cook, during which time I was going to get some fresh air out on the patio.

At this point in Steven's Summer In Chains Steven's bondage is changed. His wrist shackles are removed, with his hands being cuffed behind his back instead. The biggest change though is the penis gag which is removed from his mouth only to be replaced with something called an 'Humiliator' which was basically the same but had attachments that could be put on the front. These included an ash tray, a small serving tray, and even a toilet brush, that would let Steven do these chores, without the use of his hands. The problem was I'd never been able to find anything like that, not even in the 'special' stores on line, so wasn't able to do that.

The lack of a 'Humiliator' was a disappointment, and I guess I could have rigged something up, by gluing something to the front of the penis gag, but I didn't want to spoil the look of the flat leather over my mouth, so had to do without.

What I could do though was to pretend it was happening and so knelt down beside the lawn chair I'd sat in the previous night, and stayed there, without moving an inch, for the entire time it took the dinner to cook, just as if I was serving my master, even if there was no one there.

The oven timer signalled the end of my servitude allowing me to get once more to my feet and return to the kitchen where I have to say the food was starting to smell really great.

Using oven mitts, I removed the dish from the oven, and set it on the side to stand for a few minutes while I got my own seating arrangements sorted out. Only I wasn't going to be sitting on a chair. Slaves don't sit on the furniture unless invited and there was no one to invite me, so instead I'd have to remain on the floor, so that's where I dropped my spoon, along with some water.

Only when everything was ready did I serve myself a healthy portion of the food into a large bowl, which I placed on the floor, kneeling in front of it as if waiting for permission to eat.

Finally, I reached up to the kitchen counter beside me, picked up the small silver key and used it to remove the padlock holding the straps in place behind my head. This allowed me, finally to remove the gag from my mouth which felt a little sore from being in the same position for so long, yet also oddly empty.

The food was good, and I was about as starving as only a fourteen year old boy can be, so it took next to no time for me to completely empty the plate using the spoon and then, to literally lick it clean. Holding the plate in my chained hands so my tongue to pick off all the bits of sauce that the spoon was incapable of getting, until there was no real need to do the washing up.

Of course I still did the washing up as that was part of a slave's duty – plus GG preferred it if I didn't leave the sink piled up with dirty dishes – the chains rattling against the sink as I work. The gag once more firmly strapped, and locked back into my mouth, preventing me from humming while I work which, oddly I actually felt like doing.

The chores finally over, I retired to the living room for the evening, behaving pretty much as a normal teenager would have done, flopping down in front of GG's TV to watch DVD's from his collection back to back.

In fact the scene would have looked pretty much normal had I not been sitting on the floor rather than lounging across the sofas, and of course that I was more or less naked but for a rubber jockstrap through which the cock cage could be seen. Plus I was gagged, collar and chained. Yet for most of the movies I barely paid any attention to any of that, behaving as if it was totally normal, which after two days, was exactly how it was becoming.

The second film of the evening, I watched without a gag so I could much on some snacks, but that wasn't me loosing interest in what I was doing, as it's exactly what Steven had done too. His Uncle allowing him this little bit of a rest before things were taken to the next level, that evening.

The movies were over as night time started to fall, giving me time to lock up the lower levels of the house and after making sure everything was tidied away, make my way up stairs to my room where my final events of the day were to be played out.

I got everything ready, removing the heavy chains I'd been wearing all day, returning instead to their leather equivalents, that wouldn't chaff during all the struggling that I would be bound to be doing in the next few hours.

Laying once more spread out on my bed, as I had done the previous night I proceed to chain my ankle cuffs to bottom, just as I had done, only this time I'm the other way up. The front of my body, including the cock-cage, pressed down into the mattress, with a towel underneath for reasons that would become obvious later on, and my entire back and bum fully exposed.

I don't however tie my arms just yet, although the chains are there with the time release padlock and the regular one, so that I can when the time is right. First though there is something else I have to do, involving a riding crop.

It was something that I'd found in GG's shed of stuff, a few years earlier, long before I'd had the idea to act out a story from the internet that would just happen to include one. At that time I'd had no idea what the strange stick with the little flap of leather at the end was, until GG had explained, that it was used to keep animals in line, either with a gentle tap or with a hard lash. Of course being inquisitive even back then I'd wanted to try it out, so had been left with a deep red mark on my shin for the rest of that week, that was only just covered by the long woolly socks I wore as an evacuee.

Now, I knew just what it was used for, and had practise under my belt, so that I knew how to use, or more importantly how not to use it so that I wouldn't end up with any lasting welts and marks, in any place that could be seen, like on my legs. This meant my bum would have to take most of the blows, but then it was used to that. That isn't to say my legs were spared though.

It's funny how even though the blows from the riding crop were purposely kept much less harsh than anything else I'd done to myself, I still felt every one of them sting like crazy, especially on the insides of my legs, and they were all so arousing that even without meaning too, I started rubbing myself on the bed.

A couple of sharp, full bodied blows to my already heavily punished bum soon took any notion of coming out of my mind, as that really stung like a bitch, instantly bring tears to my eyes, which if nothing else meant I could move on to the next part of the evening's entertainment. This would also involve my bum, but in a different way.

Reaching back down my body, I quickly felt across my bum for any signs that I'd gone too far and actually drawn blood, but there was nothing, so I continued down into the crack where I soon encountered the flat, blunt end of the butt plug.

Grabbing hold of the base I slowly pulled back, taking my time so as not to rip it right out, so my hole could get used to the different sizes off it, especially the widest part until it was totally few.

Putting the butt plug to one side, I picked up the jar of lubricant and then spent several delightful minutes applying it directly to my hole and then working first one and then two and finally three fingers into my warm tight hole, until I judge it was ready for what was next.

Picking up next item from my mail order box, I was a little anxious about just how thick, long and just plain nasty this large dildo looked, but all the same it was still going to go up my bum, one way or the other.

Steven had been blindfolded when he'd had a dildo shoved up his bum, but that wasn't on the cards for me, not that I'd be able to see what was happening anyway, as I couldn't both reach around to push it in, and look over my shoulder at the same time, as I now demonstrated.

The dildo went in surprisingly easily, no doubt helped by the amount of time the butt plug had been in place, not to mention the numerous times I had something stuffed up my bum in the last three or four years. Sure it was wider and thicker than the majority of the plug had been, but was actually about the same size as the widest part, even if it was that wide all the way along.

Soon the entire thing was buried deep in my bum, and it was time to finish tying myself up. However before I did that, I felt along the length of the dildo and flicked a small switch set into the base.

There was a pause when nothing happened of about five or ten minutes after my wrist cuffs were padlocked off to their respective chains leading to the bed frame, during which I was able to relax, but that soon changed.

With a barely audible buzzing noise the timer controlled motors inside the dildo, came to life, and so did I.

Having something moving independently inside my bum was a completely new experience, and one I certainly loved for within seconds of it starting I was moaning and groaning on the bed in both pleasure and frustration as every motion of the dildo seemed to connect it directly to my prostate.

Pre-cum flowed out my imprisoned groin in a constant stream, soaking the towel I was laying on as I got more and more turned on.

At the start this was nothing like any punishment I'd previously had, but as it continued on and on, during which time I was relentlessly driven to an orgasm that I clearly could no have, that it certainly became one. And then some.

For what I later worked out had to be more than twenty minutes, the dildo worked on my prostate, sliding itself up and down both fast and slowly, teasing me in a way that I'd never been teased before, until the desired results were achieved.

It was something that wasn't an orgasm as such, yet it was still so wild and amazing that I found my entire body tensing, pulling against the bonds, as a large glob of milky seed oozed itself out of my caged groin onto the bed.

That wasn't the end of it either, for a short while later I felt my bum tightened around the dildo stuffed inside it, as another stream of my cum dribbled from my still soft prick.

This happened several more times, until there was a sticky puddle building up on the towel between my legs, that also left me covered in a fine sheen of sweet and breathing hard and fast around the gag in my mouth.

My first milking was over a short time later, the effect rather more shattering than I could have ever imagined. And yet it was a great feeling if one that left me feeling so wasted that I could barely get myself unfastened from the bed, once the timer padlock popped open later that night.

Yet when I finally got to lay down on the bed, without tying myself to it, although I did clip my wrist and ankle cuffs together, I couldn't help but thinking back to the first time I truly discovered how much fun could be found up your own bum.

I was woke up bright and early like I did every day I was pretending to be new boy at boarding school, even though this particular day was to be a special one indeed, as it would be when I was initiated by the other boys.

GG had told me dozens of stories of the different ways the youngsters in various boarding schools 'welcomed' the new members of their classes, into their ranks. More often than not this would just involve the sort of spanking that I'd already acted out, but some were had a lot more to them such as the one I was going to do.

It was one that had grown out of an old punishment for swearing, but which had long gone out of practise until it was revived by the boys themselves, albeit with an interesting twist that could only have come from the mind of group of young boys. It being this particular addition that had me spending so much time trying to reconstruct the chair that had been at the centre of it all.

However, before I could get to that, I had to go through the normal routine of my day. Getting out of bed, changing out of the stripped pyjamas into a pair of plain white shorts, and plimsoll, before going on an early morning run right around the perimeter wall of GG's house. I did this every morning, rain or shine, even though the shorts tended to go see through when wet, and weren't the best at covering me even when they weren't.

Like everything I did as a schoolboy there were strict rules to be kept. The clothing was one of them, but there was also a time in which the run had to be complete, and naturally a punishment if I went over that time. Which I nearly always did.

Back in my bedroom, thankfully not wet this time, I checked the time on the clock then taking off my plimsolls and bending over, I gave myself six hard smacks on my bum. One for each minute I had gone over time.

That done, I removed the sorts and went into the bathroom to first use the toilet and then to shower. The shower too was time controlled, but I very rarely went over the allotted time, given that the water felt like ice at it fell over my body. Every schoolboy knows that his day starts with a cold shower.

Back in my room, I put on my uniform, taking time to get it right before finally reporting downstairs for breakfast although before I could eat, GG would check my uniform to make sure it was just as it should be. Any problem with it I would take care of, after I'd eaten. Turning each and ever one into yet more swots with the plimsoll, the number depending on how sever the transgressions had been in the first place.

With any disciplinary issues dealt with it was time for lessons to begin. These taking place mostly in my dorm room, where an old fashioned flip top desk and chair had been set up complete with ink well. Sitting at this desk I'd work at various lessons through the morning, only taking time out to take my work to GG to be marked. Then back in my room, I'd punish myself for any errors I'd made, by slapping the palm of my hand with a ruler if it was my handwriting letting me down. My thighs could also get slapped with the same ruler, or a short leather strap, but I had to go more carefully there so GG wouldn't notice any marks.

It was naturally my bum that took the brunt of any wrong answers, with minor ones dealt with through my shorts, although more serious mistakes – things that I really should have known – were done on the bare, followed by corner time, if it was warranted.

Lunchtime, was with GG and was typical school meals which I actually came to like over the course of that summer, before some time spent out in the playground (the garden) and then back to lessons.

Afternoon lessons, sometimes included field trips with GG taking me to places of interest after which I'd have to prepare a full report, but that didn't stop them being fun, as I always went in my short trousered uniform, both feeling enjoyment and some embarrassment from being seen out in it. NOt that anyone was particular rude, and of course there was no one I knew, which made it all the more fun.

Evenings were spent with GG, as school was over then, so I got to relax but still wearing my uniform, until eight o'clock when I'd go upstairs and change into my pyjamas, coming back downstairs for hot chocolate before sending myself to bed at nine on the dot.

This was much earlier than I ever would have gone to bed at home, even on a real school night, but was all part of the standard prep-school plan I was recreating, and would make my initiation so much easier to do.

GG was out the evening my initiation took place, but all the same I went through the same routine, as always although I did make a check the house was secure before going up to my bedroom.

I didn't get into bed, as although the real initiation took place at midnight, there was no need for me to wait that long, as I didn't have to wait for anyone to be asleep before I started.

Actually the first part of the initiation I had to make a lot of changes to as originally the victim would have been all tucked up in bed asleep when a bunch of his peers would sneak into his dorm and basically kidnap him, tying him up, gagging him and then carrying him down to the basement room where the special chair was kept. None of which I could do on my own, so I just walked down there on my own.

My chair was also in a basement room. An early version of the room I would later use for my toddler hood and then to be a slave in. At this stage though, it still contained quite a bit of GG's stuff in it, with just a clear place in the centre where I'd set up an old fashioned school desk, that was similar to the one I had upstairs but for some very obvious additions I'd made.

There was a high backrest on the seat, for example, and cross bar for feet to be put on. The desk was hinged from the back, but had some catches on the side to keep it closed. The most obvious changes were the belts I'd screwed to both the seat and the back of the chair, plus one other thing, that was sticking up from the seat itself.

On top of the desk was a complete set of schoolboy clothing, a few items of which had also been adjusted, again by me, for one very special reason that had everything to do with that chair.

In the olden days the boy being initiated would be stripped naked by his peers, and then redressed in what was a the uniform worn by the lowest age at the school, but of course I did all that myself. I even arranged the clothes I was going to put on, in the correct order, just to make it easier.

A small pair of plain white briefs was the first thing I put on. My feet stepping into the leg holes with easy, although I did struggle to get the tight nylon up my thighs and over my groin and bum, especially as I didn't want to make the hole that had been put into them, any bigger.

The elastic from the pants bit into my waist and legs, but I ignored it as I pulled the childish vest over my head, even tucking the trailing tails into my underpants, just like little kids do.

My arms slipped into the sleeves of a heavily starched shirt that felt like cardboard as it came up onto my shoulders, and buttoned up all the way at the front to the neck, and at the cuffs, making it difficult to both move my wrists and head.

Diagonal stripes adorned the tie, marking it out as a junior school one, rather than the horizontal stripes the upper years would have worn. A distinction that was lost on me, but which wouldn't have been had I actually been attending such establishments. It was tied off in a neat, tight knot, high up in the collar of the shirt, further tightening that around my neck.

Socks followed, for which I sat down on the edge of the seat, pulling the white wool on my ankles and up to just under my knee where I turned them down over the garters that were already pressing themselves into the flesh of my shins.

My feet got a little squashed inside the black leather T bar sandals, as I hadn't been able to get any in my size, but once the straps were pulled tight and fastened they weren't going anyway, not that I'd be able to walk in them, but I wouldn't have to.

Shorts were next. These being identical to the ones I wore during the day, being traditional grey school shorts, only these were too small for me being from a junior school uniform. They had no fly, or pockets not that I'd have been able to get my hands in any if they'd had them, as they were just too tight. They too had a prepared hole in them that I was careful not to rip any further.

A belt went around my waist, inside the loops of the shorts, even though there was absolutely no danger of the shorts ever slipping down. They were just too tight for that. But the belt was part of the uniform so it had to be worn especially when a boy was being punished in the swearing chair.

Back in the days before the internet, or even TV and music and stuff like that, GG told me that swearing was probably the worst thing that any boy could do that wouldn't get him expelled instantly, which is where things like the swearing chair would come in. The child forced to sit for hours stock still, unable to move or say anything was the best cure, and that's what I was going to do. Albeit with a twist straight from the mind of the sort of schoolboy who would have spent more time than others in the chair.

It wasn't very big, just four inches [10 cm] high, nor was it very big in another other direction, but it did stick up from the seat of the swearing chair in a way that left no doubt as to where it was going to go, especially when you were aware that the duel holes in the shorts and underpants, were not only lined up but directly over my arsehole.

"It's to stop them slipping of the chair!" was apparently the official reason it was there, and while that was obviously true, the straps would do the same thing. The reason being to make it into more of an endurance for the boy forced to sit on it. As I was about to find out.

Sitting on the chair was made a lot more difficult by the prong fixed to it, and the fact I was wearing such tight shorts. The later made it tricky for me to spread my legs on either side of the chair, so I could line myself up correctly. Thankfully this wasn't the first time I'd stuck something up my bum so even at the age of twelve I knew about lubrication, even though I wasn't sure if that had been part of the original initiation. I could only hope it was, as without having things up your bum wasn't so much fun, but I wasn't about to ask GG for that sort of detail.

Anyway, once I was astride the chair, I felt down between my legs until I located the top of the prong, then slowly lowered myself, so I could it first towards and then through the holes in my clothing, until it came into contact with my hole itself.

I allowed the end of the prong to enter me enough so that it wouldn't become dislodged, removing my guiding hand as I did, so I could experience what the initiation would have really been like, as they'd had no gentle introduction. They'd just been sat on in, so that's what I did.

It nearly bought tears to my eyes as I sat down but this wasn't so much from the prong going fully inside my bum, but more from the way the extra tight shorts and underpants, crushed my balls as the material tightened around them.

Now I was sat down, I gave myself a few minutes to adjust before making sure I wouldn't be going anywhere for a while. This was done by fastening the various straps attached to the chair around me. All of which had been made from old belts, fastened with screws to the back of the chair, or under the seat, then bought over my and buckled as tight as I could get them.

The first of these was the thickest as it had to go around my ankles. The issue being that the plug in my bum, made it uncomfortable to lean forward, plus the desk was so close that I couldn't see what I was doing. So it took a few attempts to get this as tight as I wanted.

Another strap went around my legs, just above the knees, holding them tightly together, which was a lot easier to do even if I did hit my knuckles on the underside of the desk a couple of times.

The remaining straps were fixed to the back of the chair, and these came around me at the waist, chest and neck. The former acting like a seat belt, while the middle one went under my arms, and the latter was the looser of the lot, given that I didn't want to throttle myself.

My arms were still free at this stage, and there was a reason for that as I still hadn't put the 'silencer' on yet which I probably should have done earlier.

It was shaped like a baby's dummy, only much larger as it was intended for older children, to make sure that they were absolutely silent which explained the size of the rubber bulb, and the ribbons hanging from it.

I actually had trouble getting my mouth to open far enough to enable the bulb to go inside, but bulb part was past my teeth I found I could close it almost all the way. I just couldn't talk, especially once I'd tied the ribbons behind my head, ensuring that it would stay there, no matter what.

Finally it was time to get my hands out of the way, and who ever had devised the original punishment the initiation was based on, had thought of an ingenious way to do this.

Lifting the lid of the desk in front of me, exposed that two semi-circular holes had been cut in the upper edge of the desk right at the front, some ten inches [25 cm] apart.

Placing my hands inside desk, with my wrists in these slots, I reached for a cord I'd attached to the underside of the lid. Giving it a sharp yank I bought down the lid with a loud slam, trapping my hands inside.

In order to prevent me from just lifting the lid up again, I'd attached extra weights to it. These were held on with fishing line that purposely wasn't up to the job and which would eventually break, at which point I'd be able to escape. Until then, however, I was stuck right where I was, just like I was being initiated.

For a little while I sat quietly, just getting used to the feelings of being stuck the way I was. Eventually though I felt the need to test my enforced immobility, straining and heaving against the straps holding me to the chair, all to no avail.

There was no one to hear me, but I attempted to shout through the dummy, but couldn't even hear my own voice, little above a mummer that was even muffled by the highly effective gag.

Meanwhile, as I sat there, I was all too aware of the prong, as small as it was, poking up my bum. Sitting still I could almost forget about it, but any of the limited movements I could make just brought it straight back to my mind quick style. And not just my mind either.

I'd had an erection all the time I'd been making the prong now up my bum, which had made it easier to ensure the two things were the exact same size, but that had been in my regular school shorts which had room for such things. The tiny junior school shorts didn't, meaning my willy had become trapped under my nuts, that had been fine when it had been soft, but once hardened was bending it totally the wrong way which was just how it was going to have to stay for the next six hours.

Yes, it was after midnight before the fishing line finally broke. GG had already returned home, no doubt having checked my room to see a bundle of clothes apparently sleeping in my bed, while I remained downstairs listening to him moving around and finally going to bed himself.

I didn't sleep that much. Well perhaps I did, I can't be sure, yet all the same it was a relief when the weights were finally gone and I could lift the desk lid from inside, freeing my hands to release the rest of my body from the punishment chair.

That wasn't the last time I used the chair and certainly not the last time I used that oversized dummy either. Plus as you already know, having things up my bum, turned into something of a habit.

The third morning of Steven's Summer in Chains begins with Steven waking up in bed next to his Uncle, with a dying need to have a wee. Only problem was he'd been told he couldn't unless his Uncle – now his master – said he could, so he isn't sure what to do.

He then goes on to ponder if he's allowed to wake his Uncle up, but is fairly sure that isn't allowed either, so in the end he just gets up and does it anyway, even though he's totally disobeying his Uncle and is bound to get punished for it. Not, of course, that he's overly bothered by that, given as that's what he likes.

None of that was obviously a concern for me given that I was both master and slave in my own version of the story. Mind you what did slightly concern me was the way my bum was still stinging from all the spankings the day before, whereas Steven never even mentioned his bum at all. Making me think that, perhaps, I'd over done it a bit. Still I wasn't about to go off plot so I went through the same motions of trying to slip out of the bed, and tip toe-ing to the toilet where I crouched down and did what I didn't really need to do, and then went to look out the window where Steven and eventually his Uncle had watched the sun rise over the beach.

Well, there was no beach for me, just a load of trees at the bottom of GG's garden, and the sun was already up but it did feel strangely great letting the early morning sun bath my mostly nude body, while at the same time a chilly breeze blew across my skin, raising goose bumps that quickly vanished.

Anyway, it was while they were standing at the window that Steven finds out that his Uncle wasn't asleep at all, and was well aware of what he was doing and just how many rules he broke, all of which he has to be punished for. But how?

This was something that I found to be a very interesting question. Just how do you punish someone who is turned on, and therefore, enjoys what would normally be regarded as punishments?

Steven's Uncle's idea was simple. He got him to do something that no teenage boy likes. Housework. All of it. That was his punishment for walking around without permission. As for going to the toilet, for that he lost the use of the toilet for the rest of the day.

"What if I need to pee, like in an emergency or something?" Steven had asked to which his uncle had the perfect answer, already hidden in the cupboard. And I had the exact same thing left over from last year's adventures.

I pulled out a large carrier bag, inside of which was a smaller one in a colourful light blue, with a picture of a smiling young lad a few years younger than me. Above him the writing couldn't have made it more clear as to what the bag contained: "Pull Up Nappy -pants for boys aged 10-12."

Steven was sentenced to wear one all day, and use it as it was intended, although only for peeing, as it would be unlikely he would be crapping in it as he was about to get his usual morning enema. Well not his usual one, but a much larger one, that too would add to his punishment.

Naturally I was going to do exactly the same as Steven had done. Mind you I was a lot less worried about it given that, unlike him, I'd spent most of the previous summer wearing nappies of various sorts. That said, I wasn't too keen on the bit that would come before that.

Moving to the bathroom, I once more got all the enema gear out, but before I filled up the bottle there was something else I had to do and that was to clean the butt plug I'd worn all the previous day. With my mouth.

I have to admit that I cheated a bit here. In the story the plug was pulled out of one end of Steven and then pushed directly into the other end, giving the boy a good taste of lube and whatever else was on there. However, I hadn't put the plug back inside me, after the vibrating dildo had scrambled my brain, so mine was slightly more crusty, and that was just a step too far me.

Truth is, that I washed the butt plug off under hot water before it got anywhere near my mouth, yet when it was, I still had that same thrill Steven had mentioned of finding hot that something which had been in my bum, was now in my mouth, making me feel like a really dirty little boy. A dirty boy that was about to get a really good clean out.

The difference between a punishment enema, and regular one is that the former is not only large, and held in for longer, but soapy water is used to make it sting more, and let me tell you that all of that is true.

It took time, as I released the enema slowly into me, a part at a time, following a schedule of some every couple of minutes so that my body wouldn't become overwhelmed by it. Yet, all the same, it was a good job that I had something to bite down on, as some of the cramps that resulted were a killer.

By the time three quarters were inside me I really didn't think I could take any more, and yet I'd worked it all out carefully, just how much a boy my size and age would be able to take, so I knew it was possible. Still that didn't stop my belly from aching, and my guts churning over themselves, making noises that in no way were going to end well.

I rubbed my distended stomach with one hand, while the other worked the enema nozzle as that had helped Steven, take even more water inside him. NOt that I was sure it was helping me as I could actually feel the water moving around inside me. Or so I thought anyway.

Finally I'd done it. The enema bag was empty, but I certainly wasn't. And if I wanted to be just like Steven then I needed to hold it for nearly ten minutes, and that wasn't going to be easy, especially as my legs were already starting to shake.

It wasn't long before my entire body appeared to be trebling and I knew it was time to get the nozzle out of my bum before it got blasted right across the room. Whereas the only thing that went across the room was me. Moving with the speed of both sound and light combined as I head for the toilet as if my bum was exploded. Which if was about to do.

I squatted there, over the bowl, hands in a death grip on the sides, while my ankles and shins, were cooled by the cold porcelain, as what felt like ten times the water that had gone in, game out, with a vengeance.

When it was all gone and my stomach had returned to being flat again, it was easily time for a shower, as I hadn't actually washed for a couple of days, but that too was something I was going to have to do on my own, without someone to wash me, which was a shame, but was something I was used to.

After the shower, Steven had dried his uncle and then given him another blow job during which he sucked on his nuts and all sorts of other stuff. So that's what I did to the dildo that had driven me mental the night before. It didn't have any balls to it, although it did do other stuff, not that I used any of that while I gave it my best blow job, not really knowing if I was doing it right or not, but enjoying it all the same.

There was something I could do to the dildo that Steven did to his Uncle, and that was to try and take as much of it down my throat as I could. Like Steven I choked and gagged a bit as I knelt on the bathroom floor, sucking on the rubber prick, but I knew how to relax my throat, until my nose brush against the top of the toilet seat, letting me know that I'd done it.

That was pretty much it though. Obviously the dildo wasn't about to grab my head and give my face a good old fucking, until it shot a load in my mouth, making me choke a little but still enjoy it all. As it was, once I'd done the deep throat thing, there didn't seem to be any point in continuing. So I stopped and just got on with the next thing. The nappy.

Not surprisingly the nappy was right where I'd left it, allowing me to step into it, and pull it up over my hips, to my waist, where it had to rest for a second while I stuck my hand down the front so to move my cock-cage down between my legs, so I would have the same result Steven had.

It worked. With my private parts pushed down like that, combined with the tightness and thickness of the pull-up itself, I totally lost any bulge I would have normally had, leaving me totally flat in front. Of course the same wasn't true around the back where the nappy made my bum stick out a bit more, but that was to be expected, after last year.

At this point I should have put on some baggy clothes and gone out for breakfast, at least according to "Steven's Summer in Chains", but there seemed little point in that, as I already knew well enough what it was like to wear a nappy in public, and, anyway, getting the bus back and forth into town would just take up too much time, so I decided to skip it. The trip that is. Not breakfast.

I had breakfast downstairs in the kitchen, sitting on one of the high stools, and trying not to squirm too much whenever my weight came to rest on the end of the butt plug that by now I'd become so used to as to barely even notice it was there, even though it continued to fill me up, in places where boys don't normally get filled up. Well, other boys don't, anyway.

Polishing off the cereal, followed orange juice and toast, I realised, unlike Steven, just what I was doing, having a mostly liquid diet, and what that would mean later one, now that I wasn't allowed to use the toilet.

Breakfast over and it was time to down to work, starting as Steven did in the living room, straightening things out, running the vacuum around dusting and so on. The same sequence then repeated in the dinning room, and so on through the house.

In the kitchen I was down on my hands and knees, scrubbing the floor like an old fashioned maid, albeit one wearing knee-pads, and drinking from a large bottle of Pepsi as I worked.

Upstairs, I had the first hint of the pressure building in my bladder but ignored it as I started sorting out my bedroom, putting away a lot of the things I'd used the night before, back into their normal hiding places, before moving on to the other spare bedrooms, leaving GG's room alone, as it was part of our agreement that I didn't go in there and he didn't go into my room.

It was while I was re-making the spare bed that I ended up wetting myself.

There was nothing that made me do it. It sort of just happened in the exact way I always remembered it having. That weird mixture of feeling the wee coming out and at the same time feeling the nappy getting wetter, and warmer, and heavier, as I continued to go, without making the slightest effort to stop myself.

Eventually I did stop wetting myself, just as I knew I would but I wasn't about to get changed yet, as even Steven had decided to keep wearing his nappy once he was certain that it wasn't going to leak, which thankfully mine wasn't going to do either.

Only the bathrooms were left to clean now. Steven had worn the Humiliator gag with a toilet brush on the front to do his, but I didn't have that, so had to make do with using my hands, instead, which in itself wasn't all that much fun, especially as I had to get right down on my hands and knees, with my bum up in the air to do it, just like Steven had, and you know, having your face that close to a toilet isn't going to be fun. At least I didn't have to put mine actually inside the bowl, although I guess I could have, just for realism, and given myself a swirly, like Steven's Uncle did to him, while he was cleaning. Mind you, I'd had enough swirly experience during my time in boarding school a couple of summers earlier. Ironically, in the same toilet I was now cleaning.

The cleaning was done, and I couldn't have been happier, as I hated it just about as much as every other kid does, and there was something else I wasn't so keen on either. And that was spending time in a wet nappy, which had long ago gone from being warm, to cold and somewhat clammy.

The change was done on my bed. Or rather on a large towel laid out on top of my bed. While I could have done everything standing up – in fact that would have probably made it easier – I did it as Steven had it done, raising my bum up to get the nappy from underneath and then raising my legs up so I could pull it off.

There was more to this than just changing my nappy as I needed to take care of some hygiene issues too, involving the cock cage which, needed cleaning, having not just been recently soaked in my wee, but having been almost constantly dripped on my pre-cum. However, I couldn't risk taking it off, or else I'd have been wanking solidly until GG came home, so I just had to make do with cleaning everything carefully while the cage was still in place, which wasn't easy, although it was frustrating.

When everything was clean and dry down there – and thankfully I hadn't gone totally made from the stimulation – I poured some baby powder over my smooth and hairless groin, before pulling on another of the nappy pants, ready for my nap, which would take place, down in the not-so-secret secret room.

The ankle and wrist bracelets were still locked on me, as was the collar but I did have to re-attached the hobbling chain between my ankles first before I pulled out the baby's dummy from beside my bed, and placed it in my mouth where it would act as a gag for the next part of my time as a slave boy, which was going to see me being babied. Well sort off anyway.

I walked the long way through the house, so I could enjoy the experience of being dressed the way I was as much as possible but also so I could pick up another large bottle of Pepsi, before I headed down into the basement, where I headed at once for the small cage in the corner.

Dropping to my hands and knees, I crawled inside the snug little space, making sure the gate slammed behind me, locking itself.

I sat face the cage door at which point I started to tie myself up. My legs were next to each other, stretched out in front of me, where they soon had rope binding them at both the ankles and again just above the knees. Both tied good a tight, so there would be no way I'd be able to separate my legs.

Taking a large heavy padlock, I slipped it's tongue into the loops on my wrist cuffs and locked it shut, preventing me from moving my hands apart, but still with enough movement so I could do one more thing.

Picking up the Pepsi bottle I unscrewed the cap and then downed it as fast as the fizzy soda would allow, only putting it down again when it was empty, so I could squash the plastic enough so it would fit through the bars of my cage.

Finally I replaced the dummy back into my mouth and settled down in the cage for a nap in a nappy. Something that I'd been looking forward too for nearly a year.

I was thirteen during the summer that I became a toddler for the second time. Since my previous year at GG's being a school boy, I'd done even more research into initiations and such like, coming across many tales that I would have liked to have acted out, but there were some that started to interest me more and more as puberty took hold of my body.

It's an odd thing, but no sooner did I start to get physically mature then I started to think about what it would be like to be younger. Okay so I'd pretended to be younger when I'd worn the school shorts, but that had only been a few years, now I was thinking more like ten years younger. A baby.

Well, actually not a baby, but more a toddler, as after all babies don't do anything so being one of those would actually be rather dull, whereas as a toddler, you still get to go out and about, and do stuff, just you have to do it whilst wearing nappies.

I'm not entirely sure where the idea came from to spend that entire summer wearing nappies but it was probably one of the school initiations that had a lad dressed up like a toddler that started it. From that moment on I was looking for other things like it, and boy was there a lot. So much so that I could have spent an entire year at GG's acting them all out.

Naturally I didn't have that sort of time so I had to condense them down which turned out to be a lot easier that anyone would have thought as unlike with the school stuff and being an evacuee, most of the nappy tales seemed to follow the same sort of pattern. To start with a boy would want to wear nappies – or possibly have to if he wet the bed – which he would do by either making some or stealing some, until he got caught doing it. Then the stories would go one of two ways. Either whoever caught him would help him out, or he'd get punished. Not that it mattered which way the story went as he'd still end up not just wearing nappies but being treated like a toddler, eating in a highchair, sleeping in a cot, and so on, more often than not in a way that he could do nothing about it. Which was something I liked.

Anyway, like I said there was more than enough source material for me to use so with a bit of copy and paste I put together a scenario that I could get away with around GG, plus a few things that I wouldn't have been able to do, or at least so I thought, but thankfully life has this way of making things happen.

Of course, like the many boys in the stories I'd read, the first thing I had to do was to get some nappies. Or at least that's what you think but from what I'd read there was something else I could first, and when the train pulled into the station that year I was already doing it, even though GG wasn't there to see it.

The train was early but all the same I was in a hurry, as I had some shopping to do before GG came to pick me up, which wasn't going to be for a couple of hours yet as I'd 'accidently' sent him the wrong train time.

This was all part of my plan to get some nappies, and thanks to the internet search I knew just the place to get them, as there was a medical supply warehouse store just a short distance from the station, and that's where I was going to be spending the extra time.

It probably wasn't the sort of place many a young boy would be going, especially not one who looked as young as I did, for even though puberty had started, I was still shorter than a lot of my peers, plus the way I dressed didn't help.

I was wearing shorts of course, much as I'd been doing for a couple of years, although these were rather more regular than those I would have otherwise chosen to wear. They were even a few sizes too big for me, or at least they would have been had it not been for my thickened-up multi-layered underwear.

That's right I was wearing several pairs of underpants. Actually it was pretty much every pair I owed, and then some more I'd got from various places as this was something people who couldn't get nappies did, to give them the same feeling they would get as if they were actually wearing nappies. I wasn't so sure about that though, as I'd been wearing them since I'd left home that morning and I wasn't finding wearing so many underpants, anywhere near as comfortable as everyone said nappies were.

It had taken some planning starting with the six smallest pairs I owned, all of which were lined up in size order, and pulled on in the regular way, with the fly – if they had one – in the front and such like. However, once past that, I'd start to put on every other pair backwards, so the fly would stretch out across my bum, while the seat being bigger would pull up higher on the front, until it was almost up to my belly button.

The reason for this was explained as to get more padding in the back, like a nappy would have, and that they would go higher than my actual waist, also like nappies would, making it harder to hide them. This last thing wasn't something I understood to start with, as although everyone in these stories wanted to keep their nappy wearing a secret, they always seemed to deliberately do things that would lead to them being seen wearing them. That was clearly part of the thrill as I was to discover.

Most of the underwear I wore that day was my own, and mostly old stuff that I didn't wear anymore, while others were some that I'd collected from various places as I obviously needed some in sizes that clearly wouldn't have fitted me under normal circumstances, so I could hardly ask mum for them. The last few pairs being meant for boys up the age of sixteen, which should give you an idea of just how big the entire thing was around me.

Funny thing was, even though my middle was well padded with all the underwear, once hidden under a big pair of soccer shorts, and a large t-shirt that ballooned out around me, they really weren't all that noticeable, which I have to say was something of a disappointment in an odd way.

Leaving the station I pulled my rucksack up onto my back with ease, given that it only had some shorts and shirts in it, plus one special outfit that I'd be wearing a lot on this holiday. All the same it was a struggle to appear normal, and especially to walk normally due to the extra bulk around my middle, and between my legs. Not to mention all those elastic waistbands and leg openings that were had seemed to be slowly cutting into me, during my time sitting on the train.

Occasionally I'd glace at shop windows where reflections would confirm what I already knew that there was nothing to see, while trying not to make the slight rustling sound I could hear into more than it was. That, I was well aware, being something that I would be worrying about if this shopping trip went well.

There weren't that many people about, as was usual for the town nearest GG's place, but by the time I'd made it to the medical store, even those few figures I'd seen had pretty much vanished, making me wonder just how the town made any money at all. Or perhaps that just didn't matter around here.

The inside of the medical store was something of a shock as it looked like... well... a store. I'm not sure what I was expecting but I was expecting something different. Of course the shelves that lined the multiple aisle weren't filled with fruit, veg, meat and such like, and were instead filled with all sorts of weird, wonderful and in some cases downright frightening things just sitting there. There was one major advantage to this though. It made it a lot easier to get to the nappy section.

Arriving in the correct aisle it soon became clear that a lot of my internet research had been rather lacking, as there had to be literally hundreds of different sorts of nappies. SO many in fact that I didn't have a clue where to start looking. I'd only known about three sorts. The Pullup ones that were like padded underpants, the disposable ones that tapped up, and the old fashioned cloth ones, that you got pinned into. What I hadn't figured was that there would be loads of variations on each of them, and so many different sizes, shapes and fits.

It took me a few minutes of just standing there to work out that I was wasting my time in the baby aisle as nothing there was going to fit me, no matter how many stories I'd read of boys my age wearing their little siblings nappies. Thankfully the nappies were arranged in ascending age order, so all I had to do was work my way along the various lines, going deeper into the store, until I crossed out of the 'Baby' section, through the 'Toddler' one and into the incontinent section.

Standing on the crossroads The choices were now narrowed right down, with just four options in the 'Youth' range. There were of course Pullups, and several styles of disposable all of which looked pretty much the same to me, in a bland white way with tapes on the side. Still I'd have probably have been happy with any of them, had I not turned around to see if anyone was watching me.

There was no one there, but there was something that took my eye at once. Another stand of 'Youth' nappies, that were anything but plain. They had no banner adds on the packaging proclaiming them to be 'Undetectable' or 'just like underwear' and for a very good reason. They weren't.

Clearly this nappies were made for mentally disabled teenagers who had never grown up, for they were styles very much like the baby nappies I'd seen in the first aisle. Covered in cartoon characters on the thickly padded from and rear, in a way that would make them all the more obvious, yet a lot more efficient at what they did.

They were perfect, if only they hadn't been made for girls and were bright pink.

I made a quick search but could find no matching display of boy's nappies, leaving me with two options. One I could ask someone to get me boys nappies, or two I could wear the girls ones which if nothing else would be more in keeping with a lot of the sissy baby stories I'd read where boys aren't just put in nappies and baby clothes, but baby girl's clothes. That though wasn't something I wanted to do, so I had to do option one.

Although there were checkouts at the front of the store as you'd expect, there was also a 'help' desk at the back, where a nice looking lady was passing the time doing some knitting. She was clearly the best choice for my question.

"Can I help you Sonny?" she asked in that slightly patronising way, shop assistant always have, but I ignored it like I always did as I asked the question I needed the answer to.

"Ah right, yes!" the lady nodded, whilst looking me up and down in a way that made me blush, "Those are out back as there is little call for them. You carry on shopping and I will have them bought out for you."

She started to lean down to a microphone fixed to her counter and for a moment I thought what I'd asked for was about to be announced all over the store, so made a hasty retreat.

Naturally, being a medical store they weren't about to embarrass their customers, but by the time I realised that I'd ended up in the 'Accessories' aisle, which was something of an eye opener, I can tell you.

Everything anyone could possible have wanted to turn themselves into a toddler was right there on the shelves and I'd have loved to have bought all of it, from bibs to sippy-cups, to bouncers and walkers, but although I had some money I could hardly have got it to GG's house without him wondering what I was up to.

There was one thing that I could get though. A dummy, or pacifier as it's called in most of the stories. Of course most were stupidly small for me, but not all of them, as there was one that was clearly big enough to fill my mouth and not only that it could be adjusted so the wearer couldn't remove it.

They called it a 'safety feature' in the store, whereas later I'd find the same thing on the specialist website that sold me my slave gear with a very different name! The feature was the same in both. Once the small looking bulb attached to the back of the face plate was inserted into the mouth, the ring on the front would be twisted, inflating the bulb until it was too large to be removed. There were tiny holes incorporated into it so breathing wasn't an issue and even a place where a feeding tube, or a baby bottle could be attached to ensure feeding.

Naturally I put one in the basket I picked up, before having a look at what else I could find, in the process making one of the best discoveries of all my shopping trips. A child's safety harness.

It was just hanging 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 instantly. Made from the same material they make seat belts from, with adjustable slides all over the place and a strong looking buckle in the centre that joined all the straps together.

There were five straps in total, coming from a central panel in the front. One went over each shoulder before crossing over on the way to the buckle at the back. Two went around the torso at chest and stomach height, while the optional fifth one went down between the legs, making it totally impossible the harness to be taken off.

It was just like something out of one of the many stories I'd read by someone called Jennifer1. She was always going on about boys being put in things like this, and not just so they could be controlled whilst taken for walks, but they could also use clips on the harness to fix them to highchairs, push chairs and even large prams so they can't stop people seeing them in their nappies. Jennifer's boys though were always dressed as junior school girls or baby girls, so I wouldn't be doing anything from her stories, but there sure was a lot of things I could do if I had a harness like that, all the same.

"That's on special offer if you would like it?"

The question took me totally by surprise given I was staring at the harness. Turning I found the old women standing at the end of the aisle, with a large package under her arm.

I managed to mumble something about just looking, but it didn't fool her for a second as she took it off the hook so I could have a closer look at it saying that it came with all the attachments. She never got to say what those were as I found the next thing she said more important.

"Did you know we offer a free home delivery service both for nappies and for, anything else you may wish to purchase, or even rent."

That's right the store rented things. Not nappies of course, or anything that would get unhygienic after use, but anything else, and it was a darn sight cheeper than buying the stuff, I can tell you. What's more if I could set up the deliveries right, I could get all the nappies I wanted right at GG's house without having to get into town all the time. Naturally I was hooked.

My first and so far only experience of buying nappies in person was over a few short minutes later, and I left the story apparently with nothing more than I'd entered it with, although my rucksack was now a little fully as it now contained my new dummy along with a few sample nappies. The remainder would be delivered once I'd discovered when GG was going out, before then there were a few things I needed to sort out back at his house, assuming everything was still there of course.

GG's store of stuff, appeared to contain anything and everything I could possibly want for all of my various yearly trips from the old style school desks I'd studied at and been spanked over, through to all the chains that I'd restrain myself with. There was a lot of other stuff too, some items of which were going to come in very useful for a teenaged toddler. First though I had to get a real nappy on.

It was late in the evening before I was finally able to take off the multi pairs of underwear I'd been wearing and replace them with a nappy. During which time GG had picked me up at the appointed time, and we headed out to the house, chatting as if we were both equals rather than three generations apart, which is one of the many things I loved about being with GG. He'd never treated me like a kid, or worse yet, like some sort of freak just because I was brighter than most people my age. That sort of stuff I had to put up with a lot, but there was none of it was GG, he just treated me as I was, and in return I did the same back, which is probably why we got along so great.

Nonetheless as soon as was polite I made for my room, and wasted no item in pushing down my shorts before beginning the painstaking process of peeling down more than a dozen pairs of underpants from around my loins until I was as naked as the day I was born. Which had some sort of irony to it, given what I was about to be wearing.

First things first though, a trip to the toilet was in order, as although I fancied wearing nappies I wasn't quite ready to wee in one. At least not straight away. That said the final pairs of underpants I'd taken off had been a little damp at the front. Not that that had anything to do with wee, rather the excitement that was starting to leak out of me.

Laying a soft mat on the floor, that would serve as my changing table for the week. I could have set up a proper low or even high table which would have been more realistic but that would have been pointless work as it wasn't as if I needed it, so this was just simpler.

That done I finally got to open up the sample packet of nappies I'd got in the store. The first thing I noticed about them was how tightly they were packaged as once I'd removed one it instantly started to expand into it's full thickness which turned out to be rather thick indeed.

The nappies were folded over so they were smaller in size than a DVD case, at least in height and width, but were considerable thicker than that obviously. This was more noticeable in the centre part where they had the soaker pads to collect the wee. Naturally this was rather bigger than on the baby sized versions as after all a bigger body will make more wee, and a teenager will have a greater flow rate too. So although the youth nappies did the same job as a baby one, they had to do more of it and faster too. That's why they were so much thicker.

With the nappy all opened up on the mat, I sat my naked bum right down in the centre, which wasn't that comfortable as the soaker created a ridge that stuck up, although as I lowered my full weight down onto it, everything seemed to sort itself out, until I barely noticed it anymore.

A few seconds later and my private parts all looked like they belonged to a ghost, as I'd put too many holes in the top of the baby talcum powder I'd taken from my rucksack, which made for rather an over powering smell, as I set about fastening the nappy on me.

My legs moved apart into a sort of frog shape as I bought the front of the nappy up between them, over my ghost groin. I let that rest there as I fiddle with the sides, trying to get them up onto my hips so the tapes could join the two parts together which proved a little tricky with talc all over my hands. Still I followed the help sheet that was inside the package, first lining up the side panels onto the front, to get the best fit.

The nappies proved to be a really great design, with well through out aspects such as the two-time-tabs. These meant that instead of just having one go at sticking the tapes down, you got several. TO do this you only peeled back the protective covers on the tapes a short way to expose the first pads. These were temporary so you do keep adjusting them, peeling them on and off as you needed to until you got them right. Then when you had how you wanted, you peeled the protective covers all the way off, and stuck them down with the more permanent ones which wouldn't come off.

When all was 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 get up and see what I looked like in the mirror.

Well I say I got up, but I didn't. The mirror was only a short way away, so it seemed much more realistic to just crawl over there, going on my hands and knees with my big rounded bum raised right up in the air and waving around as if I wanted to make it obvious I was wearing a nappy.

It really was a great look, wearing a nappy. My legs, arms chest and stomach were all still bare of course, so you could see the various tan lines that marked the levels of clothing that had covered me during the previous hot weather, with several on my arms, and two distinct ones on my legs. The lower one, just below my knees from the casual shorts I wore around my mates, during school sports and such like, and another one up at the top of my thighs from where I wore still occasional wore the by now somewhat tight school and PE shorts from my previous visit to GG's.

The main thing about the nappies was just how high they came on me. I was used to shorts that came up to my waist and no further, but the nappies went beyond that almost to my belly button just like the underpants had, which is why they had, but it wasn't something I was used to.

The nappies sure felt better than the multiple underpants though, both on the inside where they were soft and on the outside where the plastic coating made them all smooth and slightly shiny.

There was also none of the usual indication of which gender I was either. The front of the nappy just looked completely flat if you looked at it straight on. There was of course a large bulge there from all the soakers but that was almost all over, but I was all too well aware of how much those extra soakers were adding to the nappy's width between my legs, as I had to stand with my legs slightly bowed. NOt very bowed but slightly, so it didn't really show, which wasn't the case around the back.

"Does my bum look big in this?" I couldn't help laughing, as my bum looked enormous. ALl big and round, and well massive, in a way that just wouldn't fit inside any of my clothes, just like all the stories said it wouldn't, which is why I'd got something special to wear.

Part of me would have loved to just walk around in the nappy, but that wasn't part of the plan so I went to get something that would at least match the work I was about to do down in my secret room.

They were overalls, like the sort you see farmers wearing in old movies. Made of blue denim they were like jeans, but with a front part – the bib – that came up over the lower part of my chest, held in place by straps that go over my shoulders, where they cross over, before coming down to the waist at the back, like braces. There were big brass buttons on the sides to hold them together, that matched the two on the bib, and the sliders on the braces that could be used to change the size. They'd originally been a little big for me, with the feet being lost in the legs but I'd solved that by turning them into what had to be the most childish things I'd ever worn. Shortalls.

Putting shortalls on at first could be tricky what with all the straps and buttons in places you aren't used to, but by the time I'd cut the legs down to the shortness I wanted, and hemmed them up again, I was used to doing it.

WHat you have to do is go at it like a regular pair of trousers, but you have to remember to unbutton the bib and the side buttons first, before you put your feet in and pull them up to your waist. Once there, you have to button the sides to hold them in place, while you hold the chest bib up, and at the same time, flip the shoulder straps over from the back, and clip them all together. It's all a lot easier if you leave the shoulder straps loose until they are in place then tighten them as much as possible, although when I did that this time there was something I hadn't experienced when I hadn't been wearing nappies.

The first of these things I was more or less expecting, being that the shortalls were no longer as baggy as they had been over my regular underwear, especially as the side buttons pulled them thigh around my bum so it looked, if anything even bigger than it had before.

The second thing didn't become apparent, until the straps were fully tightened, this naturally pulled the shortalls all the way upwards, until they could go no further, which in turn squashed the nappy slightly, causing the denim to rub against the plastic whenever I moved, to create a slight but noticeable rustling that was going to make my construction project rather noiser than I'd imagined.

My eyes were closed, my tied legs curled into a sort of fetal position, while my mouth sucked on the dummy stuffed in my mouth, as I contemplated the tightness of the Pullups around me. I wasn't asleep. At least I don't think I was, although I may have drifted off from time to time I can't be sure.

What I was sure about was the moment I wet myself. It was a conscious moment that perhaps I could have prevented, but I didn't. Instead I just let myself wee into the nappy. The warmth and wetness that followed every bit as exciting as it had been the previous year, allowing me to drift off once more into that place somewhere between asleep and awake.

It was sometime later when I clicking sound told me that the timed lock holding the cage door closed had released itself, allowing me to crawl on out of the cage, keeping the dummy in my mouth at all times.

This was all the same thing that Steven had gone through in his Summer in Chains, but I was about to skip a bit as there were some things even I wasn't prepared to do and one of them was to drink my own wee. Okay so Steven didn't either he drank his Uncles, but as I was being both Steven and the Uncle I'd have had to drink mine, and like I said I wasn't going to do that. Neither was I going to wee on myself. So instead I went to the next bit which was to shit myself.

Now for Steven that had been a first, but for me it wasn't. Not by a long shot, so I wasn't going to get as embarrassed by it as he had been, cos I'd done all of that stuff last year. That and the fact doing it would have led to a lot of cleaning up afterwards I decided to skip that for now as well, moving right onto the next bit, which had been an accident in the story, but which I'd do on purpose.

Naturally in order to shit himself, Steven had had to remove his butt plug, and once it was over, needed to re-inserted, only when he did so he'd picked the wrong sort of lube up. Taking one that was meant for punishment rather than his usual one. The pepper oils were intended to cause discomfort and irritation to the parts they touched, and I'd managed to get some too.

I really wasn't sure about doing this, but I'd promised to do everything that Steven had done, (if I hadn't done it before of course), so I had little choice. Plus I'd bought the special lube, so I knew I was going to anyway. That said I still took the same precautions that Steven's Uncle did, putting on a pair of latex gloves, so I wouldn't sting my hands.

Carefully I peeled down the nappy just far enough so I could get enough access to my bum. I then set about twisting the plug out of my hole, which given that my wrists were still connected by that large padlock connecting the cuffs, wasn't all that easy.

I gave the plug a quick clean before setting it on the side, as I picked up the special lube.

Squirting a liberal amount of the hit lube on my right index finger, I swiftly pushed it into my own bum hole, until I was a good knuckle deep inside, which felt so great that my cock cage started to stir.

Soon though the normal feeling of having something in my bum, changed to a bit of a strange tickle, that itself soon got converted into a stinging sensation, that was spreading around my hole.

It took nearly all my control to stay in position as I lubed up the plug with more of the lube and then pushed it back inside my bottom

The stinging was starting to turn to burning but there was still one more thing I had to do before I could remove the gloves and that was to rub some of the lube directly onto the soft skin of my nut sac.

It only too a few seconds for my nuts to start to burn, yet I had to ignore it as I pulled the nappy back up to my waist which did seem to take some of the sting away, leading to an instant attempt at an erection that was, of course, foiled by the cage surrounding my prick.

NOw I really needed something to take my mind off what was happing in my hole and too my nuts, so I set about getting myself set up for the next position Steven found himself in.

First I put the big collar back around my neck, sealing it off with the locking bolt. To the ring in the front I then attached one end of a heavy chain, with the largest padlock I had. Moving over to the centre of the floor I then used one of the timed padlocks to attach the other end of the chain to bracket in the floor.

The chain connecting me to the floor wasn't very long. IN fact I'd shortened it to ensure that there was just enough length in it so I could stand up straight, as long as I didn't move around. Any movement I made, just pulled the chain down on the collar, making it feel like I was being choked, although I really wasn't.

Now I really felt like a slave, changed to the floor and then 'forced' to drink another large bottle of soda, that to make matters worse was warm, and made my bladder expand to a size that clearly it wasn't going to be able to sustain for long. Of course I was wearing a nappy so that didn't matter especially as wee was one thing that could help with the stinging in my nuts and hole that had continued all this time.

I should have changed the dummy in my mouth for the larger of the two gags I had, but I'd left that over on the bench which I could no longer reach, as the chain was just not long enough. In fact I could only got about twelve inches [30 cm] from the centre spot before the chain tightened. Admittedly I could get further if I crawled but I wasn't going to, as there was a line I wasn't going to cross.

It was a real line, put on the floor with masking tape, rather a metempirical one, placed about half way before how far I could get on my feet, and on all fours. The idea being to test just how much control I had, as although I could cross it I wouldn't as I settled in for another few hours of chained solitude.

There was no sleep to be had this time and even there was there was something I needed to do first. Namely to put out the fire in my nuts, using the hose that just happened to be directly above them, even if it was caged.

Standing there, in GG's basement room, I closed my eyes and willed myself to wet myself, but tightening my stomach muscles and spreading my chained ankles as far apart as they could go.

I could only produce a tiny trickle at first, as the situation was giving me as near an erection as I could get, but once the flow started there was nothing that could stop it and what felt like the entire bottle of soda I'd just drunk came right out into the nappy.

As Steven had said when he'd done the same thing, it felt so awesome, as my hot wee instantly counteracted the effects of the pepper lube, as the nappy got heavier between my legs.

However although the itching went away so did the warmth of my wee leaving me feeling a bit cold and clammy in places where you don't really want either of those feelings, yet at the same time my near erection was back which if nothing else managed to warm me up slightly.

There was only so long I could stand up, though so eventually I sat down, once again getting the reminder of all the recent spankings I'd given myself as my bum came into contact with the very solid floor.

When I first made plans to turn myself into a toddler that summer I was thirteen, I'd decided to be as truthful as possible the stories I'd read, which didn't just mean wearing nappies but using them as well. Of course in order to do this I'd have to make sure GG was on my side and either didn't notice I was wearing nappies, or if he did was okay with the idea.

For the latter issue I'd made up a little story about how I'd occasionally wet the bed at night, something which I knew wasn't all that uncommon for boys my age, and which I knew he'd sympathies with. Thankfully, given that I never liked lying to GG, I never had to use say anything about what the bulkiness around my middle as GG either never noticed, or just thought it wasn't any of his business. Naturally both of those solutions suited me perfectly.

All the same that first time I went down from my bedroom with the sounds of rustling coming from beneath the shortalls, I was sure he was going to say something about the noise. If not that, then how could he not notice the odd way I was walking as I got used to not having my thighs as close together as they usually were, causing me to waddle slightly? ANd let's not forget the not unnotable matter of all that padding around my groin and bum, and the childish shortalls themselves. Yet GG said nothing, just let me get on with as he always did. And get on with it I did.

That very evening, up in my room I got on with the real part of my toddler-hood, having excused myself for an early night and fixing myself a drink from the kitchen before heading up to my room where I knew I would left alone until the following morning.

The first thing I went for was the dummy. This I'd already washed getting rid of that 'new' taste before opening my mouth wide enough to get the bulb passed my teet and into my mouth itself.

I held it there for a few seconds, testing it out with my tongue, finding it a little disappointing in size as it wasn't very much bigger than a finger in its deflated state. That though would change once I started to turn the ring on the front of the face plate that was now pressed against my lips.

It was a bit tricky to do on your own as I had to use both hands. One held the plate in place against my lips, while the other picked up the ring, so it stood out, and then turned it clockwise to expand the bulb inside my mouth.

According to the instructions on the packaging, there was no recommended size the bulb could be inflated too as the design ensured there was no danger of choking on it. It did say however, that it should be inflated until it was too large to slip out, or be pulled out. So that's what I did.

When I finally removed my hands from the base plate, the dummy didn't move, remaining in place against my lips just as it did when I attempted to push it out with my tongue, only to find that my tongue could barely move at all.

With that test passed I then tired to pull it out with my hands but that didn't work either.

It was at this point that I remembered to test to see that I could still breath which was a bit pointless as if I hadn't then I'd have already passed out, so the conclusion from that was granted. Yet now I thought about it was surprising to discover that despite the bulb totally filling my mouth it made no difference to my normal breath. Not even when I held my nose closed, just to see what would happen.

Naturally the main point of the dummy was to render myself mute which it did with ease, and my normally articulate speech reduced to nothing, just like a toddler. Now all I had to do, to complete the scene was wet myself.

Turns out that it's not at all easy to wet yourself as you can't just undo nine or ten years of toilet training just like that. You have to work at it. Thankfully I'd read enough guides on the matter to have some idea what I was going to do, and the first of those was a complete contradiction.

Sitting there I concentrated on not concentrating on going to the toilet which I knew doesn't make sense, but it's like those times when you don't want to think about something but all you do is end up thinking about it anyway. Still, as it didn't work, maybe it is as stupid as it sounds.

I tried a few of the other suggestions I'd read about like taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly whilst rubbing my tummy. THis proved to be 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 position. Like nearly every pubescent boy on the planet, when I wanted a wee, I'd stand up, whip out my willy and let fly at some suitable target, be that a toilet, or a handy tree. Of course the whip it out bit, would have defeated the object, even if the shortalls did actually have a fly in them, but I tried the rest anyway. Even standing there with my hands held in front of my groin as if aiming a stream.

Again nothing happened. I guess my willy was just too comfortably curled up inside the nappy to think it was being waved about above a porcelain bowl.

No familiar things clearly weren't going to work, so I needed something completely different. I was going to wee sitting down.

It's a funny thing when you think about it, but you can almost tell the age of a kid from the way they sit on the floor. Teenagers, like I'd just become and even 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. Toddlers, however sit in the position I took up, with their legs bowed out in front of them, with the soles of their feet almost touching each other. The reason for this may simply be down to the wearing of nappies and not being able to get their legs together, but it was also a great way to maintain their balance, and, as it turned out, to wet your nappies.

Once in position I closed my eyes to imagine that rather than sitting on the floor in GG's spare room wearing a heavy duty nappy I was on the loo doing what I always did there. My entire body relaxing as my bladder finally gave way, with wee starting to flow into the nappy.

It was like nothing I'd ever felt before. Everything was so hot to start with, spreading out so fast, as it managed to get into all the parts of the nappy, including around my nuts, and bum, in a way that was totally and utterly wonderful.

The warmth of my own wee just seemed to surround me down there, as the nappy absorbed everything, expanding like nobody's business in the process, that made them even more bulky than before, but in a good way.

Stopping the flow once it had started has to be one of the trickiest things to do in the world, especially when you consider just how much trouble I'd gone to in order to start in the first place. Still it was something I had to do just to make sure the nappy would be able to soak it all up.

I needn't have worried though, the nappy easily took everything I could take it. Each time I added a new stream the nappy would just swell up more and more, getting heavier and heavier as it did so, until it felt totally enormous, making it very nearly impossible to even look down the front of the bib shortalls, to see where the wetness strip on the front of the nappy had changed colour to indicate that I'd wet myself. Not that I needed telling of course, but still.

Any movement on my part, caused the nappy to make a slight sloshing noise as my wee followed gravity to flow from one part to another, as if compensating for whatever movement I'd made.

Having a slight moment of panic, that this meant I was leaking, I raised myself up from the floor to feel underneath the seat of the shortalls. Thankfully there was nothing, although a new sensation did await me when I sat down again.

With my body weight removed from the seat, my wee had pooled there, so that when I sat down again, it was pushed elsewhere, shooting up both the front and back of my body, in a way that so very teased my bum and especially my nuts, giving me an instant erection that threatened to punch it's way right out of there.

There was nothing for it now. I was going to have to have a wank, which given what I was wearing wasn't going to be that easy as there was no way I would be able to get my hand inside the nappy to do the dirty deed. Still, there are more ways to have a wank than a flick of the wrist.

UNdoing the buttons on the sides of the shortalls did allow my hands access to the front of the nappy, which I was soon rubbing like it was a lamp and I was trying to get the genie to come out, which isn't that bad an comparison really.

It took less than a minute or so of pressing the still warm and wet nappy tighter and tighter into my groin, before there was a second, also warm, liquid being soaked up by the every hungry soaker pad. And I'll tell you this, there may have been a lot less of it than there had been wee, but it felt way better than wetting myself had.

As was normal after a wank, not to mention the long day I'd had, I felt a little sleepy, yet at the same time still too hyped up to actually sit, so I just sat there in the wet nappy as ever revising the plans I had for the rest of my visit, while the wee cooled off.

One thing I quickly learned about being a slave was that no matter how exciting it seemed to be chained up overnight in the middle of a concrete floor, the reality was somewhat more problematic than the fantasy.

I did manage sleep at first, but that was probably due to me being rather tired, but not being in a bed, it wasn't the best sleep I've ever had, and certainly didn't last all that long.

Sleeping on my side, proved to be the best option as laying on my back just caused my spanked bum a whole heap of issues, even through the padding of the pull up. Face down was out of the question through due to the heavy collar having it's equally heavy padlock on the front, causing a lump that just wasn't about to get comfortable in a hurry. And then there was toilet issue.

I'd drunk nearly four litres of heavily fizzy soda both before and after arriving in my current position, and they all had to go somewhere. Namely into the nappy. The first wee I had almost in my sleep, as that's what actually woke me up, the weird sensation of the Pullups getting all wet and warm. I'd thought that had been an end to the issue, but I couldn't have been more wrong.

Some time later I woke up needing to wee once more. So I did. Since my practise the year before I now had neither problems or issues with wetting myself, so just let it go, although I did start to wonder just how much wee those things could hold, as it's not like they had the soaker pads of the bigger nappies I'd worn when I was thirteen.

Those things, all adding together with what were now becoming my standard problems of the chastity device and the butt plug, all added up to making it a restless, and rather frustrating night, as the mere fact that I couldn't have a wank just made me all the more keen to have one. And that was something that just didn't go away when you're a teenager. Not even if you can have a wank.

Anyway, with all this on my mind, and elsewhere, I managed to drift in and out of sleep, until finally the sun started to come up and I woke for what was going to be the last time, with the twin issues of being both painfully hard, and with a bladder that was once more screaming for release. Something that wasn't going to happen until I could get myself under control once more.

It took a lot of concentration and a fair bit of higher mathematics before my mind was clear enough to have my morning wee at which point I found out just how much the Pullups could hold. Apparently it was slightly less than I was giving it, as kneeling up as I was, I could feel a warm trickle running down the side of my leg, right under the tight side of the nappy, until it formed a puddle on the ground. A puddle that was right where I was sitting.

Thankfully I wasn't sitting there long enough for the wee puddle to get cold, as it wasn't long after my bladder was finally finished emptying that I heard a click behind me as the timer padlock opened up freeing me from the floor.

Standing, I stretched out all the creased and creaks that had got into my body from my night on the floor, before I started to clean up the mess I'd made.

It wasn't easy to move about the basement as not only were the Pullups full, but they were also incredibly heavy, making moving that much more difficult. However most of the wee had been soaked up – which is why they were so heavy – so there was less danger of my leaking but all the same if felt as if everything was just moving about in there, which has to be the oddest sensation of all.

Once I'd finished putting everything away, I mopped the main part of the floor where I had leaked, and then put down a bit of plastic sheeting. This I then stood on, as I peeled down the totally sodden Pullups before finally stepping out of them. Leaving them on the sheet I wrapped the entire thing up, sealed it with tape and then dumped it into a plastic bag ready to go into the bin in a short while. Before that though, I had to get myself cleaned up, and I had to do it in a set time too.

Fifteen minutes was how long Steven had had to get showered, so that's what I gave myself. Naturally I also had to have a cold shower, as that's all that slave boys were allowed.

There was a chill in the rest of the house that I didn't really feel as I speed up from my makeshift dungeon to my bedroom and the adjacent shower. I'd had cold showers before, of course, just like anyone who'd spent a summer at a boarding school of their own making, but all the same the actually coldness of the water took my breath away.

If there's one thing to be said about a cold shower its that you don't want to spend too long in there, so no sooner was I under the water than I was reaching for the shampoo for my hair, and then the soap for the rest of me, so that I could be out from under the frigid spray as fast as possible.

However now I was a slave boy there were more things for me to clean, starting with the bottom. My bottom, and the plug that was still inside it.

Being in the shower was one of the few times I was allowed to remove it, so I could clean it, so I did, bending over and working it out of my rear slowly but steadily before getting to work, both on it, and the place where it had been for so long.

My bum clean, it was time for the other side, which was still trying to stir despite the cold water, but then I had to stick a finger up my bum to clean it out, so that was bound to happen. No matter I still had to clean things up in and around the cage, especially as they'd both spent most of the night sitting in a wee, as the last thing I wanted was a nappy rash, as those things hurt.

Finally out of the shower, I could only drip dry – slave boys weren't allowed towels – as I went through the rest of my cleaning procedure. This involved removing the gag from my mouth as there was no way I could brush my teeth with that in there.

I was done. All clean and shiny, if a bit wet and ready to be inspected. If only there was someone there to actually inspect me. As it was, I just had to make do with standing in front of a full length mirror and admiring myself from every angle. ANd I mean EVERY angle. Not just front and back, but both sides, and especially the back-side, if you get what I mean?

It felt a bit silly bending over in front of the mirror, reaching back to pull apart the cheeks of my bum, but, if you did it at just the right angle, I could actually see my own hole, which didn't look as tight as it had done the last time I'd looked at it – yeah I do that! – no doubt due to the plug having been stuffed in there for so long. Which reminded me, that it should have gone right back in after I'd washed it.

Having fetched the lube, I smothered the butt plug in the slippy stuff, before resuming my position in front of the mirror, and watching as my bum once more accepted the plug back into it's new found home, leaving me once more filled up.

Mind you my bum was still a good red colour too, and that looked great, as it alway did once it had been spanked and now everyone was going to see it.

Well, not everyone, but someone might, as I was about to undergo another one of Steven's punishments for doing his slave chores properly. He'd forgotten his butt plug, as well, but unlike me had left it in another part of the house, so had to do the bins whilst wearing a tiny Speedo that barely covered him anymore. So, naturally, even though I hadn't really done the same thing, I was going to do that to.

I didn't actually have a Speedo in which I could the run, but I did have something that would be just as good. The white sports shorts from my time at GG's boarding school. Two years had passed since then, and given that it had been somewhat small but then, now I really had to wriggle my bum in order to get the elasticated waistband anywhere near my waist.

Now I know that wearing a pair of shorts doesn't sound quite as embarrassing as going out in a tiny Speedo-thong thing, but these weren't ordinary shorts. At least not any more. First off, they were as you probably guessed very short, so short in fact, that along with just how tight they were, they looked a lot more like trunks than shorts. Lycra, spandex trunks, that were sprayed on. Oh and they were see through too. So not only did they pull and push the my privates to one side, but they made it very obvious just what I was wearing over them. Whilst, around the back, not only could you see every contour of my bum, but somehow the translucent white, highlighted the redness of my bum leaving no doubt in anyone who saw it, that I'd been spanked.

The shorts were in my bedroom so that's where I started my latest punishment chore, picking up the waste basket I'd not even used and then sprinting around the rest of the room, emptying all the other bins into it. Not that there was much, given I was the only one in the house but still, it had to be done.

Running downstairs, I nearly skidded over on that little rug in the hall, but managed to catch myself on the banister, that spun me around into first the living room, and then on through the kitchen, and then down to the basement where the main item that needed disposal was waiting for me.

At the front door I paused, wondering, not for the first time, if this was a wise, idea, before I made a break for it, in case I talked myself out of it.

I ran as fast as I dared in bare feet, with a bag holding a very soggy nappy in one hand, and the rest of the rubbish in the other, until I reach the gate at the end of GG's drive. There I dropped both into the large dustbin, making sure the nappy bag was well buried, amongst everything else, as the pick up wouldn't be until after GG was back in residence.

There was just one more part of the punishment to do, and that was to actually go through the gates, into the outside world, and do a little patrol up and down the road outside GG's house. There would be no traffic, I knew that, as the road didn't really go anywhere, but all the same it was still possible that someone would be out and about and could see me. An idea that both thrilled me, and scared me in about equal measures. Not that it stopped me doing it, of course.

I did precisely as Steven had been ordered to do. Running about two hundred years to the right of the drive way, picking up any litter that I found, and then doing the same in the other direction, only realising much later upon re-reading 'Steven's Summer in Chains' that I could have got away with just two hundred paces. Not that it mattered as there wasn't a sole to be seen, or more importantly to see me, racing around.

Back inside the house, it was time for a late breakfast, which naturally I had to cook and then clean up again, but at least I got to eat it too.

The End