U. N. Known Writer

The Naughty Nephew

Karl Hammond unlocked his front door before pushing it open with the tip of his steel toe-capped boot and stepping into the house. It hadn't been the best of days and it was soon clear things weren't about to get any better.

The television was playing in the living room but no one was watching it although it was clear someone had been for there were the remains of a snack scattered about the coffee table, while the sofa cushion were all piled up one end, just how his nephew liked them.

"Jamie!" Karl muttered under his breath. "Always Jamie."

The man stepped into the room, killing the TV with a flick his wrist on the set top before picking up the food wrappers and dropping them into the bin they were inches from. He was about to re-assemble the sofa when he thought better off it. The boy can do it himself.

"Jamie!" he repeated, much louder this time, his voice used to shouting instructions across a noisy construction site, more than enough to reach every part of the house. Yet, oddly there was no answer.

Consulting the calender hanging in the kitchen Karl confirmed what he'd already thought. His son Noah was at soccer club with his mates. The same one that Jamie had refused to attend, saying it was for little kids even though he was only a year older than his cousin. But then Jamie was like that now. A typical not-interested-in-anything teenager. If only Karl had been aware of that when he agreed to take the thirteen year old in while his sister and her husband went travelling for the summer.

Something was going to have to be done about the boy, and today was a good a day as any as far as his Uncle was concerned.

Walking to the stairs, Karl shucked off his hi-vis vest, hanging it on the banisters before making his way up. His heavy work boots announcing each and every step in turn, until he reached the top.

On the landing he paused, listening for any tell tail sounds but there were none, so he made his way directly to Jamie's room, mumbling to himself as he went, that the boy had better be there, or there would be hell to pay.

He was and by the looks of it hell had already been paid.

The door was opened giving Karl the perfect view of his nephew's bed upon which the boy was laying, but certainly not sleeping as it was doubtful he could have, given the way he was tied up with his hands above his head, and the soles of his feet taped together. He was dressed for nap though. Or would have been if he'd been over a decade younger than he actually was.

It was the makeshift nappy that Karl spotted first, mainly because it was so bulky and that the plastic that covered it directly reflected the main bedroom light that was directly above it. Plastic that it didn't take Karl long to identify as belonging to one of the bin liners that could normally be found in the kitchen cupboard but which had mysteriously gone missing a few days earlier.`

However it was the size of the nappy that made it the most prominent feature of the tableau that was laid out before him. The plastic liner padded out by not one but two towels, one wrapped around the boy's slender loins in the basic nappy kite shape, while the other had been folded between his legs, forcing them to spread apart even before they had been fastened that way.

Finding himself staring directly at his nephew's groin, Karl quickly adverted his gaze, bringing it down to the boy's feet which had been placed sole to sole in front of him and then bound in duct tape to keep his legs both bent and spread.

"Who did this?" the man asked, louder than he probably intended, wondering if they'd been robbed. He came further into the room so he could see the rest of Jamie's body finding out as he did so why the boy hadn't answered him before.

Wearing nothing but the nappy between his legs, the only other things on Jamie's entire body other than duct tape were two leather collars. One of which was in the traditional place around the boy's neck where it was locked in place and attached to a chain that went up to the head of his bed where it was locked off around the headboard.

The other, very similar belt, went around the lower part of Jamie's face, directly under his nose, across his mouth. A back end of a bolt sticking through the leather, telling Karl instantly that something was in the boy's mouth, preventing him from talking.

Always good in a disaster, Karl didn't panic. Approaching the bed he used his fingers to run around the back of the belt-gag, to find the buckle that was holding it closed and with two swift flicks of his nimble fingers he released the strap holding it in place.

Jamie wouldn't or couldn't meet his Uncle's face but he did let out a bit of a whimper at the first tug on the gag that almost completely filled his mouth. He'd always know it would be tricky to remove from the moment it had been forced in, but nothing prepared him for the way his jaws were forced apart as the large rubber bulb came free.

Putting the gag down without really looking at it, Karl reached for the other collar but then hesitated just as his fingers found the buckle, as his senses – heightened from years working on building sites – told him something wasn't right here.

"If this was a robbery," he pondered, his mind working quickly, "Why was the television still here?"

Once that first question was asked the others quickly followed.

Where did the robber get dog collars from? Karl didn't have a dog.

Why would a robber go to the trouble of making up fake nappies before tying the boy up?

Wasn't that gag made from one of the rubber bulbs from Karl's own workshop?

Did the robber make that too? And if so where did the tyre come from?

What was going on here?

There really only was one way to find out.

"Jamie," the man asked a lot calmer than most would have been in his situation, "What's going on?"

The boy said nothing, still unable to meet his Uncle's eye until the man's fingers on his chin turned his head in that direction.

"Were we robbed? Why are you tied up? Who did this?"

Karl had a sinking feeling that he knew who had done this. His son. He knew Noah could be a bit of a bully at times, but surely nothing like this. Just some pushing his weight around with the younger kids at his junior school. The sort of thing every boy does just before he leaves for big school and the tables get turned. This though was something else. This would have taken time and planning, not to mention skill and a level of trickery that Noah really didn't possesses. But if not Noah, then who?

The answer, when it came, was something Karl had never expected.

"I did it!"

Jamie's voice was barely audible yet Karl still heard it as clear as day.

"Say that again, Jamie."

He did. "I did it."

There was no denying what Karl had heard this time but it did give rise to one more question, "Why?"

"I," the boy swallowed, "I like it."

Looking up and down the bound boy's nappy clad body, Karl waited for him to say more, only he didn't. So he asked for an explanation.

"I like being tied up," the thirteen year old sighed clearly not used to saying that to another person.

"And the this?" the man's finger poked at the padding across the boy's hips. "Do you like this too?"

"Yes. Well. No. Sort of. I guess!"

That didn't really explain anything but Karl had a more serious question to ask.

"Does anyone do this too you. Against your will?"

"No," Jamie sighed.

"So, you just do this to yourself, is that right?"

Jamie nodded, making the chains above his head that were trapping his arms, rattle.

"So, in that case," for a second Karl wondered if he should ask this but he went ahead anyway, "How do you know you enjoy it?"

"I think about it. All the time," he confessed only to be asked what else he did. "I draw pictures, and write stories."

Karl nodded having spotted his nephew bent over sheets of paper on several occasions. Sheets that soon vanished once the boy knew other people were about leaving him little option but to ask just what happened in the stories and drawings.

"I get tied up."

"By who?"

"People!" the bare shoulders shrugged in a typical teenage reflex that Jamie still had to perfectly master.

Turning his head Karl looked down at the thick padding between his nephew's legs but was unable to see the answer to his question there, so he asked it out loud.

"Does it make you hard being like this?"

Blushing about as red as a boy could blush, Jamie gave a single curt nod.

"Were you excited even when I found you like this?"

The nod was smaller but still there.

"What if it had been Noah who'd found you? Would that have excited you too?"

It was a larger nod this time, which didn't escape Karl's notice.

"Ah right, so when you tie yourself up do you think about what would happen if someone found you?"

He didn't want to answer, he just wanted to go somewhere else but he couldn't. He'd made sure of that so in the end had to answer that he did.

"I see," Karl stood up, his eyes darting around the room which being his spare room was decorated as nicely as the rest of the house or furnished to the same high standard. However, despite only having being using it for a little over a couple of weeks Jamie had somehow managed to make it look like a stereotypical teenager's pit. There were dirty clothes all over the floor, while just above every other surface was covered in something or other. None of that though was what Karl was looking for.

"Where are these drawings and stories, you mentioned?"

Jamie's eyes widened at the surprising question, his head turning towards the table in the corner as if checking that nothing was obvious and in the process giving everything away.

Following his eyes, Karl made a bee line for the same place, not the table itself but the small rucksack that was tucked away beneath it. A gasp from the bed telling him he was on to something as he routed through a few items of clothes to come across a closed folder.

"Is this it?" he asked holding it up so the boy could see it.

He admitted it was.

Returning to the bed, Karl put the surprisingly heavy folder down on the bedside table accidently knocking the collar-gag he'd removed onto the floor. bending down he picked it up. "Did you make this?"

A nod.

"Tell me how?"

"I got the… er… rubber bulb from a big syringe and filled it with old rubber bands so it would be springy. Then I put a cork into the end, so I could put a bolt through and attach it to the collar."

"Clever." admitted Karl, "It looks like a big baby's dummy which I guess is what you wanted wasn't it. To be helpless like a little baby."

He nodded, blushing although less than he had been. That though was about to change.

Still holding the gag his nephew had made, Karl carefully considered what he was going to do next. The boy looked so pitiful laying there with is legs spread, in the big homemade nappy and plastic pants. It was something that should have embarrassed the lad, but from his own omission it turned him on instead. Of course Karl had been a teenage boy himself once, so he knew what strange creatures they could be, but if this is what he wanted, wasn't it better that he experience it with a family member rather than some stranger?

It was. And he would.

Taking a grip of the bulb of the gag, Karl gentle squeezed it with his fingers and then before Jamie realised what he was doing, Karl pushed it back into the boy's mouth and buckled the straps behind his head.

"Mmmmm!" came the expected protest, along with some fresh squirming and raising and lowering of his arms above his head. The chain from the collar to the headboard prevent much more than that, as Jamie had discovered to his horror before his Uncle had arrived home.

"I'm guessing," Karl picked up the notebook, "that this is the closest you have ever come to what you've written about, so why don't you enjoy it while I go downstairs and see what else you like to do."

Jamie's neck ached as he kept his head raised to follow his Uncle as the man walked out of the room, taking all his secrets with him. He tried to cry out but couldn't. He attempted to move his legs or body, but couldn't. He was stuck and it was all his own fault.

***

He'd been planning it for days, almost since he'd arrived. His cousin was at his stupid football thing, and his Uncle would be out all day working on some new job. Jamie would be left at home alone, and able to tie himself up for hours.

That morning he'd laid in bed, listening as the other two people in the house got ready for their day. Barely aknowledging his Uncle when Karl came in to tell him to get out of bed and that he and Noah would be leaving soon.

In fact it took another hour before the front door finally slammed and he was alone. A very long hour as far as Jamie was concerned. Yet he didn't hurry. He knew he had to be careful as the last thing he wanted was to be discovered. At least he thought it was.

Throwing back the covers Jamie wasn't the least bit surprised to find the front of the old shorts he was wearing was tented up by his erection. He'd been pretty much rock solid since woken up, and judging by the dampness of the cotton, perhaps before that.

Spinning around, Jamie placed his feet down on the thin carpet and pushed himself up to his feet, his erection still leading the way.

His jeans lay on the floor right where he'd dropped them the previous night, but he left them there, along with his shirt, remaining just in the small shorts that clung to his body in a way that was indecent even if he tenting the front of them.

The shorts weren't even Jamie's. They were his cousin's. Not that Noah would miss them as the eleven year old wouldn't have been seen dead in the fly-less white nylon gym shorts he hadn't worn since he was eight. They'd been big on him then, with plenty of room to grow, which is how Jamie had managed to wriggle them up over his slender hips but only if he didn't wear anything underneath.

Listening for a second at the bedroom door, Jamie bounced the protrusion in the front against the door before becoming convinced he was alone, at which point he set off for the adjacent toilet, safe that no one would see him.

Doing what had to be done in the bathroom took care of Jamie's erection, but it had returned by the time he reached the ground floor. The thrill of walking around in the too small shorts exciting him to the point that he put his bigger plans on hold so he could enjoy it some more.

Heading to the kitchen, he cast a glance at the empty pedal bin that was still awaiting replacements for the roll of bags he had hidden in his room, before making himself a non-traditional breakfast which he took into the living room to consume in front of the television.

Lounging on the sofa wearing next to nothing, eating chocolate and drinking soda directly from the can, Jamie couldn't have felt any naughtier if he'd tried. But he was going to try. Boy was he going to try.

Once fed and watered, Jamie didn't bother cleaning up his mess or even turning the TV off, he could always do that later. Or blame Noah for it. Not that either of them would get into trouble, but just to see the look on the younger boy's face, and then imagine what Noah would do to him, if he got half the chance.

His erection once more leading the way, Jamie headed not upstairs, but to the door under the stairs that led into his Uncle's workshop, where there was a nice new roll of duct tape that he had a new use for a long with a length of chain and some padlocks that were going to come in very useful indeed.

Back inside, he went upstairs, by passing his bedroom to head to the airing cupboard from where he selected the towels he needed for his nappy. Stopping on the way to look into Noah's room to give a quick look around for any more old clothes that he would be embarrassed to wear, but not finding anything this time. He just wished he had the nerve to ask his cousin to tie him up, but truth was, Jamie didn't really trust the younger boy and especially not his friends.

Returning to his room, Jamie pulled his rucksack from under the table, removing the plastic bag that was stuffed inside, under his folder. Inside was the roll of bin liners along with the two dog collars he'd bought, one of which he'd adapted into a gag, down in the workshop just a few days earlier, not having had the tools to do the same things at home.

He gagged himself first. Unable to wait any longer. Molding the bulb of the dummy in his hand to make it more pliable before he pushed it into his mouth, an action that made his jaw ache a little as it went between his teeth but then once he was able to close his mouth around the neck of the bulb he was comfortable once more.

Buckling the gag behind his head, Jamie's only wish was that he'd been able to work out someway to lock the gag in place, but he hadn't not for that collar or even for the one that he then buckled around his neck. The small silver disc where a dog's name would normally be now held his name, written on by his own hand, in pen, rather than being stamped, but it did the job.

At this stage, Jamie saw no reason not to shuck down his shorts and give his erection some air, allowing it to flap about from his small patch of pubic hair as he fastened one end of the chain between the metal rails that made up the headboard on his bed until just a few feet lead down onto the mattress.

He was nearly ready now. Just the other chain and padlocks to lay out that he'd use to make handcuffs for his wrists, and the duct tape that he'd put on his feet. Once they were in place it was time for him to get into the nappy.

It was just about the must humiliating things Jamie thought a boy of his age could be seen wearing, which is why he wanted to try it. Naturally he wasn't about to walk into a shop and buy one but he had come up with what he thought was the next best thing.

Laying out the larger of the two towels he'd taken from the airing cupboard, on the floor, Jamie folded it into the triangle shape he'd seen mother's do. He then folded the other, smaller towel, into a line, and put that down the middle of the triangle, before sitting himself in the middle of both.

The towels felt so soft and fluffy under his naked bottom as he lay back, pulling the point of the triangle up between his legs where the towel extended it's caress to his testicles and erection that, if it could have, would have got even harder from the sensation.

Not having been able to find any safety pins, or indeed any other more traditional way to hold the nappy together, Jamie improvised with some strips of duct tape across his hips which seemed to do the job rather well, allowing him to bring out a bin liner and climb into it.

The bottom corners had been cut from the clear plastic allowing Jamie's feet to pass through the bag, and for the liner to then be drawn up the teenager's long legs, until the holes started to tighten around his thighs.

Folding the top of the bag down until it was just about at his waist, yet still above the top of the towel, Jamie taped it into place, completing his homemade nappy in much less time than he'd thought it would take.

Getting on the bed, or indeed walking, proved to be a little difficult with so much towelling between his legs, but the way he could no longer get his legs together, excited Jamie more as he bounced into the middle of the bed, still holding the duct tape.

Originally he'd been going to just tie, or tape his ankles together but that was clearly no longer an option but what he could do, Jamie quickly realised, was really make sure he couldn't get his legs together by keeping them in just the sort of position a real baby would, which is why he elected to tape his feet sole to sole.

It worked. His legs were stuck as they were, knees bent, spread really wide so that if he'd been naked everything that should have been private about his body would have been on total show. Maybe he'd do that next time, he thought, as he lay down and reached for the chains behind him.

He had to shuffle backwards a few inches until he could get the chain hanging from the headboard to attach to the collar around his neck, but when the padlock he used clicked closed, Jamie felt a shudder go right through his body, and something dribble out of his erection.

Totally in the zone now, laid out on the bed, Jamie felt up behind his head for the shackles he'd prepared. Slowly, carefully he inserted first one wrist and then the other into the loose loops he'd formed in both ends of the eighteen inch [45 cm] long chain links. Then feeling with the fingers of the other hand, he worked the loops smaller until they were just about pinching the skin on his wrists. Then he locked them.

More shudders went through him and more thin yet sticky liquid went into the nappy as the boy relaxed into his bondage, safe in the knowledge that all the keys to the locks, along with scissors for the duct tape were all within his reach beside the bed.

Satisfied, he checked his bonds. Carefully at first but soon writhing and straining like a true captive would.

Nothing gave allowing him to drift further and further into fantasy world of his own making.

Jamie's mind was filled with people kidnapping him, holding him captive, forcing him to do things that no boy would want to do and spanking him if he didn't, although he always did. Eventually.

It could be boys from his school, some actor from television, or even characters from books he'd read but more often than not it would be his cousin that would be humiliating and embarrassing him in one way or another.

Time passed during which Jamie got sweaty as his mind ran riot through all his favourite fantasies with him at the centre of them all. His body twisting and even bucking as he got more and more into it. Shivers and shakes bouncing him on the mattress as events reached their inevitable conclusion, not once, or even twice, but three times, in quick succession.

Eventually Jamie's body became still. Spent, and he rested for as long as he dared before the time came for him to release himself.

Then it all went wrong.

The mistake was a simple one. He'd chained his hands together but with the chain connecting them was underneath the one spread out between his neck and the headboard. This, he soon realised with a mounting sense of dread, meant he couldn't reach the keys to the locks that held him in place. The scissors were out of reach too, but as he couldn't reach his ankles either they hardly mattered. The padlocks did though as if he couldn't release them he couldn't release himself. It was that simple.

He was trapped. He was actually trapped.

Jamie's first reaction to this realisation surprised even him. He became instantly stiff inside the nappy and remained so the more he failed to release himself.

Then the front door opened.

Jamie panicked but it made no difference, he wasn't going anywhere. Not even when he heard his Uncle call out his name. Yet he still remained so stiff that it almost hurt. Something that it did do when his secret was no longer secret and his Uncle was standing in the opened bedroom doorway.

***

Tossing the last of the pages from his nephew's secret folder onto the coffee table, Karl Hammond leaned back, cradling his now cold coffee in his hand, not sure he could believe some of the things he'd seen and read about. The things the thirteen year old clearly wanted to happen to him.

The drawings had been the first things he'd looked at, and they'd been bad enough, but then there were the stories. Not real stories. Certainly not long ones. There was no build up, nothing like suspense in any of them. Just detail upon detail about the way Jamie imagined himself being abused or at least humiliated, by other boys.

Some of the boys had to go to Jamie's school, not that Karl knew them, but from the stories at least made that plan even if the boys themselves weren't always named. Some were though and Karl knew he should probably ask his sister about them, but he really wasn't looking forward to that conversation.

"Oh hi Lucy, Did you know your little boy likes to be tied up whilst dressed up in embarrassing clothes, get spanked and generally humiliated by other boys? No? You Didn't? Well he does. In fact he's quite the little pervert. Even imagines my Noah doing it to him. Yes well, Noah probably would enjoy doing it, but that's not the point, is it."

No, that really wasn't a conversation Karl was going to have if he could help it, especially if his pompous arse of a brother-in-law was going to be there. He'd probably just say it was a phase, if he even noticed he had a son in the first place. No, this was something Karl was going to deal with. Somehow.

The construction foreman sighed again, stretching out his muscular legs, now free from the heavy boots that sat beside the sofa, that despite his best intentions he had restored to it's usual look before sitting down.

The drawing. The drawings. He couldn't get the drawings out of his mind. Truth was they weren't that badly executed but that was also part of the problem. If they'd just been the sort of stick figures his own son could have drawn, then maybe they wouldn't have been so bad, but the detail. The details. The devil certainly was in the detail.

All of them featured Jamie himself in the central role, the likeness was often uncanny that there could be no doubt just who everything was happening too, even if the titles of those that had titles, or notes, didn't give that away.

In every single one Jamie was being controlled in some way. In most he was tied up, but in others he wasn't physically restrained but was trapped in some situation or other. There was an entire series of pictures of pretty much identical backgrounds of an obvious school setting in which Jamie was standing in front of a class being mocked by all the other boys for what he was, or wasn't wearing as he stood there, in a pair of little boy school shorts, or girl's skirt, and of course, a bulging nappy like the one he was wearing upstairs.

Spanking was a fairly common theme as well. Jamie bending over, or more likely being bent over, while some boy or other whallops at his backside with some implement or other from the traditional cane, belt and slipper, through to the unusual hockey stick, cricket bat, or even the bread board that hung on Lucy's kitchen wall.

However the majority of the pictures showed Jamie tied up in some way or other. Karl wasn't even sure if some of the positions the boy had depicted himself in were even possible. They certainly didn't look comfortable but then if that was the case then why did Jamie always draw himself with an erection. Not a big erection, it had to be said, but even in those drawings where he was wearing something, he always made sure that an erection was visible on him, if not the boys who were doing the things to him.

Then there were the stories. Filled with sex. All of it done to Jamie, or of him being forced to service other boys. Boys he always named. Boys he knew. Boys he clearly wanted to abuse him. Including Karl's son Noah and his friends. In fact in what was clearly the most recent story, Noah took something of a leading role. He and his friends overpowering Jamie for some unclear revenge reason, tying him up and keeping him as their personal slave, making him do all the house work, naked, and basically wait on them hand and foot. The younger boys keeping him tied up for days on end, beating him in between, and even loaning him to other households where he'd be forced to work, whilst insisting on him being returned every night so they could have sex with him. A cage on Jamie's privates and a gag in his mouth and a plug in his bottom preventing anyone else from doing so. As if that, somehow made it any better.

What to do?

It always came back to that question.

At thirty-five Karl had been around a bit. He'd met a lot people both as part of his work, where the clients could be a very assorted bunch, almost as much as the workers, other contractors, and the various suits that he came into contact with. So he knew that people could be very different. Some were natural leaders, as he liked to think of himself, while others naturally followed. Of course there were also those who thought they could lead, but really couldn't. And those who thought they followed whilst actually directing things from the safety of a backseat position. Some liked the spotlight. Others didn't. All that Karl could understand to some degree. But just where did young Jamie fit into all of this?

Karl didn't know the answer. The more he thought about it. The more that became clear.

Perhaps, his initial reaction to give Jamie what he wanted was wrong after all. Maybe it would be better if he just went upstairs and untied him and told him not to do anything like that every again. At least not whilst he was under Karl's roof.

What about the drawings and stories though? Should he let Jamie keep those or make him get rid of them?

Should he tell Noah what his cousin has been up to?

Well, that one at least was easy enough. The answer was a big fat no. Karl could only thank God that he'd found Jamie and not his son.

On the other hand, if Karl had untied Jamie when he'd first found him then Noah would have never known. As it was…

"Hey Dad, what you doing home?"

***

Noah Hammond had the best soccer club ever. Hell what could be better than spending time with all his mates doing something he loved? They even got to get dirty in the process and no one made them shower afterwards. It was eleven year old heaven. The only downside was that it had to end, but then they all got to go out for fast food so that made it even better. In fact what could be better? Noah certainly couldn't think of anything as he scrambled out of the mini-bus outside his house.

After waving of the boys still in the van albeit not quite using all his fingers, Noah turned and was confronted by an unexpected sight. His dad was home.

Thankfully Noah wasn't too dirty but he knew he'd end up in the shower before he was allowed to do anything else. IT also meant he'd have to use his key to get in, rather than lean on the doorbell until his lazy arse cousin could be bothered to answer it.

Several minutes passed as the boy crouched on the ground rummaging through his sports bag for the key he'd only been granted a year before as a sign of his growing maturity. Somehow it had managed to become entangled in a pair of socks that didn't smell quite the way they had when they'd first entered the bag, some months before.

"Phew!" cringed Noah, two fingers pinching his nose while two others surgically removed the offending garment from the bag, dropped it on the ground and then attempted to retrieve the key without once touching anything else.

Signally the mission was accomplished by a raised fist, Noah then had to decide what to do with the offending sock only to end up putting it right back into the bag and tucking it under whatever else was in there. "Can't see it. Can't do it," he mumbled as he stood back up, key in hand and headed for the front door.

The key worked perfectly in near silence, being still recently cut, allowing the boy to enter the house with a surprisingly minimum of noise. A hand that was only clean from the grease of his recent meal, caught the door as it flew back, not wanting another lecture about damaged paint or chipping skirting boards.

Closing the door behind him, whilst holding the latch down, prevented any accusations of slamming, and made the boy smile at his success as he headed into the living room in search of his father. The trainers he wore making no sound as he walked across the carpet.

At little surprised to see his father slouching back on the sofa, Noah decided to have a bit of fun and wake the old man from the apparent nap he was either enjoying or about to enjoy.

Sneaking around the edge of the living room it wasn't until he was right behind his father's head before he asked the question that had been on his mind since he'd seen the car in the drive.

"Hey Dad. What you doing home?"

The big man leapt up as if he'd been electrocuted, sending his son into floods of giggles at the success of his plan.

"Got you Dad. I got you good!" he yelled, running around the other side of the sofa, to drive his victory home.

Karl didn't say anything as he did a quick check for the whereabouts of his coffee cup which, thankfully wasn't about to stain the easy clean fabric of the sofa, or his work clothes. That though, wasn't what he should have been worried about.

"Hey, what's this stuff?" Noah picked up some of the papers from the coffee table.

"It's…" Karl started to say before realising he really wasn't ready to explain all this to a boy wearing a football kit. Only he didn't have to.

"Is this Jamie's stuff?"

Karl stared. His mouth hanging a little bit open.

"It is isn't it? Did he leave it here, or did you find it in his room?"

Now Karl knew the answer. "You knew about this stuff?"

"Yeah," nodded Noah like he was admitting to scoring the winning goal, which he had done but that was a story for later. "Jamie's always working on this stuff, but he'd never let me see it until I found it."

"Found it?" repeated Karl, knowing that was his son's code for hunting high and low for something, usually Christmas and birthday presents, and now apparently his cousin's inner most secrets and fantasies.

"So, you've seen Jamie's drawings then? His stories?"

"Yeah, some of them a pretty good. Don't you think? I like this one. Makes me look I'm a prefect of some posh school – see I've got a badge that says so on my blazer – and he's some little kid wearing shorts that's in trouble, that I'm going to punish with that wicked looking bendy stick thing."

"It's a cane," corrected Karl before he could stop himself

"Yeah a cane. Like they used to use at them olden days schools to beat boy's bums. Jamie likes that sort of thing."

Karl wasn't getting any less confused: "And that doesn't bother you?"

"Nah, why should it? He's the one getting the sore bum not me."

"So you're not bothered that it's you Jamie thinks about caning him, then?"

The shoulders inside the football shirt shrugged, "Nah, not really. Can of looks like fun. I mean to do it. Not to get it. Well Jamie thinks it would be, but not me. Wouldn't mind having a go through. If I was allowed."

The last part was clearly added by the boy for his father's consumption but he didn't get to comment about it as Noah wasn't done with his revelations yet.

"I caught him once you know? Jamie I mean. Doing stuff."

He didn't want to but Karl asked anyway.

"It was one of the first nights he was staying here there was loads of grunting and moaning sounds coming from Jamie's room, so I went and had a look. He was in there on his bed with his hands and feet all tied up behind his back, with something stuffed in his mouth, so he couldn't talk and he was rolling about as if he was trying to get free."

"What did you do?" Karl asked, not sure he wanted to hear the answer although it turned out not be anywhere near as bad as he'd feared.

"I didn't do anything. I watched for a bit but I didn't do anything. Just let him get on with it."

"That's good," his father said, only he wasn't finished yet.

"Of course, I was going to hold it over his head at some point. Just didn't see any point in doing it right then."

Karl nodded, thinking that sounded more like his son.

"So, anyway, what you going to do now you caught him? Tell Aunt Lucy?"

"Maybe," the adult lied, "But this isn't all of it."

"What?" Noah's eyes flashed with a sparkle of anticipation, "He's got more stuff? Where? What is it?"

"Well, it's just that, right now, your cousin is up in his bed room tied up and gagged."

"Really?" gasped Noah. "What? Wait? You left him like that?"

"Yes. Yes I did. Because of what he was wearing."

"Which was?"

"A nappy!"

"Wow! What? Really? Wait, where'd he get one of them?"

"He made it."

"He made a nappy. From what?"

"One of your towels!"

The boy shot to his feet. "My towels? Which ones? The white ones I use for soccer?"

"Yes those."

Noah's face flashed red with anger and then he was gone, racing up the stairs, before his father even had the chance to stop him, but leaving the man little choice but to follow him, if only to see what was going to happen next.

***

Noah Hammond burst through the door of the room his cousin was using, with a mixture of glee and anger. His heart was pounding in his eleven year old chest from his father's revelation of what his soccer towels were being used for, yet even though he knew what to expect that didn't fully prepare him for the sight of a teenager in a nappy.

Skidding to a stop at the foot of the bed, Noah's eyes grew wide. A gasp of astonishment slipped through his lips as he saw his cousin all laid out on the bed, his arms bound above his head, stretching his body out, while his splayed legs highlighted the bulk of the nappy he'd taped himself into.

"Wow!" Noah finally giggled, jogging forward the few steps he needed and then jumped into the air, landing almost perfectly right on the other boy's bare chest with a thump that must have knocked some of the wind out of Jamie's sails.

"This." Noah said slowly bringing his knees together until he had Jamie's head trapped between them. "Is. So. Cool!"

The body squirmed beneath him, but was unable to escape, from the younger boy giving Noah a sense of pure power that instantly made him stiffen inside his boxer shorts making him wonder if the other boy felt the same.

Noah decided to check.

Reaching behind him, the eleven year old plunged a hand into the centre of the makeshift nappy, instantly finding the teenager hardness inside, and making Jamie groan in the process.

"Like that?" laughed Noah but not for long.

"Noah Hammond! Get off him."

The boy's head spun around towards the door where his father was standing, watching as his son tortured his older cousin.

"Why?" asked Noah before pointing out the obvious, "He likes this stuff. Don't you get that?"

"That's not the point," Karl started to say only to be cut off by his son's power trip.

"Look at him Dad. He did this to himself. He likes it. Didn't you read all his stuff?"

Karl nodded seeing what his son was saying.

"Well, then. Don't you see this is what he wants, so why can't we do it to him, only more so. You know like that story granddad says about how his dad stopped him smoking."

It took a while for Karl to remember the story as it wasn't his father Noah was talking about but his ex-wife's and it wasn't a story so much as an urban myth, and a well known one at that. How if you catch a kid smoking then in order to stop them doing it again you make them smoke an entire packet, or more, to make them sick. It made sense. Sort of.

"I mean," continued Noah when there was no objection, "It'll just be some sort of punishment for the things he's done. He'll be doing the chores and stuff only he'll be doing them in a nappy or baby clothes, or dressed like a little kid in infants school. Plus he has to do what we both say and if he doesn't then he gets punished. Properly punished. Spanked and stuff. Like in his stories."

"I guess," nodded Karl somewhat to the surprise of both his son and his nephew the former of which demanded more. "Well, he's gone to a lot of trouble, so it would be a shame to disappoint him. Plus, it might be nice to have someone do all the housework for a change."

"And," smiled Noah, "And we get to spank him."

Karl grinned, "Yeah there is that."

Jamie, of course said nothing, but under his cousin's hand still pressed into the centre of the makeshift nappy, his opinion of what was being suggested was rock hard.

The End