PZA Boy Stories

The End

U. N. Known Writer

Fantasy Lives

Summary

The young son of a child psychologist, tries to understand the strange things his teenage cousin gets up to so he can help out, albeit in rather unusual ways that makes full use of his father's collection of punishment tools and the supplies from his mother's pre-school.

Publ. Nov 2013
Finished 23,000 words (46 pages)

Characters

Beryle Narrator (12yo), Den/Dennis/Denny McKenzie (14yo), Robin McKenzie (16yo), Carl (10yo), Jon (11yo), Dirk (14yo)

Category & Story codes

Other Boy story
bt ttcons mast – humil spank bond "clothing" "age-regression" "diapers"
(Explanation)

Disclaimer

If you are under the legal age of majority in your area or have objections to this type of expression, please stop reading now.

If you don't like reading erotic stories about boys, why are you here in the first place?

This story is the complete and total product of the author's imagination and a work of fantasy, thus it is completely fictitious, i.e. it never happened and it doesn't mean to condone or endorse any of the acts that take place in it. The author certainly wouldn't want the things in this story happening to his character(s) to happen to anyone in real life.

It is just a story, ok?

 

Chapter One: Discovery

It looked to most people that my cousin Den was about as happy and well adjusted as any fourteen year old boy could be, but during the months he came to stay with us I got to learn that this wasn't entirely true. Far from it in fact.

Of course I wasn't your 'normal' kid either, not with a dad who's a child psychologist and a mum who's worked in all sorts of schools and currently runs her own pre-school from the ground floor of our house. Not that I was messed up or anything, the total opposite, but I probably was just a little too self assured and worldly wise than your normal twelve year old.

Anyway, that year, Den's parents were working abroad so he and his big brother Robin came to stay with us, after all it wasn't like we didn't have the room or anything, even with mum's pre-school taking up most of the ground floor. Dad had his collection of bits and pieces to do with his job in the basement, along with his library, and his offices on the first floor, we lived on the second, which left the top floor and the attic clear and mostly empty with more than enough room for a couple of teenage boys, especially as Robin would be busy studying for his exams most of the time. This left Den pretty much on his own, so I took it as my job to keep him busy, little knowing what I was letting myself in for.

Like with every project I took on the first thing I did was try to get to know Den, as although we were cousins we hadn't really spent that much time together given that we went to different schools, other than at family gatherings, as his parents didn't really get on with mine, for reasons I'd never really understood, as they all seemed pretty much alike to me in what they did. Even if their reasons for doing it were rather different. The problem was, Den was pretty much like most teenage boys, quiet and sullen. No great surprise of course, as that's what Dad's books had led me to expect he'd be like. Still, if he wouldn't talk to me then I had other ways of finding out what he liked.

After several fruitless attempts to get Den into a conversation, and having got no where trying to talk to Robin, I was left with only one option if I was going to find out what Den liked to, which is why I ended up hiding in the attic one day, waiting for him to get back from his school.

The house was surprisingly quiet, even though Mum and dad were both working, but then that's how it usually was, which made it easy for me to slip away from school early – the teachers never minded as I was so far ahead in most classes – and found a place to hide up in the attic. Thankfully the attic didn't have any rooms as such, being just one large open space, although Robin and Den had put up sorts of barriers around their beds in order to give themselves some privacy. These, also making for the perfect hiding places.

Den arrived upstairs a short while later looking about as scruffy as usual as his school didn't have a uniform policy like mine did so he got to wear combat trousers, trains, and a Nike t-shirt where as I had to look smart. Mind you his hair was slightly shorter than mine, even though it still reached down to his collar and traipsed in front of his eyes from time to time. It was also slightly curly, so looked more of a mess than it actually was, where mine was dead straight, and blond, so just hang down on either side of my head. Thankfully, whoever had written my school's uniform police hadn't put in anything about hair length, so after I'd pointed that out, I'd got away with, even if some of my peers hadn't.

Now there was one thing that had surprised both me and my dad about Den and that was that he always did his homework directly he got in from school. Even I didn't do that most of the time, but still. It was something he did, and in fact, dad had even mentioned just how well behaved Den was in general, which coming from my dad, is something. Still with that in mind I was expecting to have to wait until he'd done his work before he got down to anything else, but that's not how things turned out, at all.

What I didn't know about was the little secret life Den had going on. One which his stay at my house had made all the easier. For far from being your average teenager Den had some seriously odd thoughts running through his mind. On this occasion, he wasn't thinking like a modern teenager at all, but more like one from decades ago which is why he was about to change his clothes 3;. for mine.

Soon after he arrived in the attic Den disappeared downstairs again. Now I thought he'd popped down to the kitchen for a drink when he actually went to my room to borrow, of all things, my school uniform.

To say I was shocked when Den came back into the attic would be something of an understatement as not only was he wearing my spare uniform but he was wearing it properly, as I got to see when he examined himself in the full length mirror. His shirt collar was buttoned all the way up, his tie was fastened neatly in place so it was in the direct centre of the V-neck of the brown sweater. The trousers had full creases running down the legs – he'd actually ironed those himself – and his shoes were polished. He looked, it had to be said, very smart. He'd even combed and flattened out his hair, so it would suit his new image that bit more. In fact the only thing that looked out of place was the erection that was pushing out the fly of the trousers.

Den was soon getting on with his homework although in line with the way he was dressed, he didn't do it, while reclining on his bed, or anything like that. Instead he got out a small table and chair, and made as if they were an old fashioned school desk. There he sat working away at his modern homework, complete with calculator, while pretending to be an old fashioned schoolboy, in class which was weird enough but there was more to come.

It was a good fifteen minutes into what appeared to be a somewhat tricky maths problem, that Den started to get angry with himself. So angry that he threw the pen he was writing with right the way across the room. Of course, then he had to go and get it, but it was when he got back to the desk that things got weird.

Putting down the pen, Den picked up the springy plastic ruler he'd been using and, holding it firm in his right hand, bought it down hard on first the side of the desk and then, on the palm of his left hand.

SMACK!

The sound almost made me jump out of my sink but there was more to come.

Despite the fact that the palm slap Den had given himself causing him to not only yelp out, but also to clutch his injured hand between his thighs, it had another reaction as well. His other hand, once it had put down the ruler, clasped the front of his – or rather my – school trousers, where his erection was back. If indeed it had ever gone away. Clearly that was the reason Den was doing what he was doing. It turned him on.

Naturally my parents being who they are and what they do, had told me all about sex, and related things from the moment I was old enough to ask, so I wasn't as naïve as most of those I went to school with – including some of the teachers – however this was something different and it wasn't over yet.

For another half hour or so Den struggled on with his homework, showing rather more determination, than most, as there was clearly something else he'd much rather be doing. But which he wouldn't allow himself to do until all his work was done. Therefore it was only when his homework was not only finished but packed away back in his school bag for the following day, that he played out the end of his fantasy.

Everything was packed away but for the desk, and that remained for a very good reason as Den had one more use for it, but first he needed to get something that he'd hidden under his mattress. A thin straight, sapling branch, from which he had clearly removed all the leaves. This he placed on the desk while he unfastened his trousers.

Down the grey slacks fell to Den's ankles, where they were to remain for the rest of events I was going to witness. Underneath I wasn't overly surprised to find he was naked as even the loosest of modern boxer shorts would have help him keep his erection under control. One thing did surprise me though, was that Den had no pubic hair. Not even a bit. Of course boys all mature at different rates – I'd done quite a lot of reading up on that – but Den had a slight shadow moustache on his upper lip, so I'd always assumed he had pubes already, but clearly he didn't. One thing he did have was a rampant erection. One that was pointing straight up skywards as he bent over the side of the desk.

His feet were planted firmly on the floor, a foot or so from the base of the desk, while his chest pressed into the wooden top where he'd been doing his homework a few minutes earlier. His feet were slightly spread, as he picked up the switch he'd cut and reaching back, stroked it across the fully rounded smooth cheeks of his buttocks.

Then, without further but with as much force as he could muster Den lifted the switch up before bringing it down, sharply across his buttocks.

It made Den gasp and visible wince, when the first red line appeared on his rear, but that didn't stop him from doing it again and again. Each time he bought that stick down just as hard as he possibly could on his bare behind, in what had to be some seriously stinging blows.

Within minutes Den was clearly hurting, as he was writhing and groaning, and he even had to stop a couple of times so he could get his aim back in again, but each and every time, he just went right back to do what he was doing, beating himself. But that wasn't all he was doing. While his right hand was beating his bum, his left was playing with himself.

Despite, or probably because of the pain he was feeling in his rear, Den was not only managing to maintain an erection but he was masturbating and then he was coming.

There didn't appear to be much more than a few drops of semen that came out of Den's penis, but it was more than enough to stop him doing what he was doing and to collapse over the desk, panting and clearly to exhausted to move for a few minutes, and then he only got up to look at the marks he'd made on his buttocks before he put his own clothes and things went back to normal.

Naturally I was a little confused by what I'd seen, so I did what I always did when I didn't understand something. I asked my dad.

Dad's advise was, as always, straight forward and to the point "Sounds like Den wants some old fashioned discipline in his life," he told me before going on to explain, with the help of his books, that some teenagers, and even adults, hark back to the old days when boys wore shorts and had to do what they were told, or else they would be punished, with a spanking. Of course, I'd come across the "hang them and flog them" brigade before, but I'd never realised that there were people who wanted to be spanked, as much as there were people who wanted to do the spanking, or at least to have spanking done.

Anyway, by the time Dad had explained everything, and I'd finished reading through all the material on the subject he gave me, I realised that not had I found something that Den and I could do together, but that I could help him work through his fantasy in the process.

Chapter Two: Schoolboy

It was three days later when Den knocked on the door to my room, no doubt wondering what the heck was going on. I'd left him a note upstairs, in which I'd informed him that I knew about what he liked to do, and that he should come and see me to talk about it.

In some respect I didn't really expect him to come, he could, after all have just ignored the note, and me, as it must have been clear to him that I would never have shared his secret with anyone else, as the one thing our two families had in common was a great regard for person piracy. But he came anyway. That, in itself was interesting.

"So," I said when he was inside my room, "You have an interest in school uniforms and corporal punishment then?"

Den mumbled: "I guess."

I tried another tact. "Would you rather wear a uniform to school then, than what you do wear?"

"Yeah. I guess. Uniforms make all the boys look the same, and smarter." Den sounded like the governors at my school trotting out the party line, so this time when I changed direction with my question I went for the full on shock value.

"Do you always masturbate when you wear my uniform?"

"What?" he blushed, nearly as red as his shirt. Clearly he wasn't as open about such things as I tended to be.

"Masturbate," I repeated, making the appropriate sign over my lap, and repeating as many other words for the action as I knew, which was quite a few.

"Oh that," he mumbled, partly to shut me up, "I guess."

"Okay, well in that case I think I can help you out."

"Help me? How?" he looked a bit worried now, but I knew that wouldn't last, not when he saw what I'd got for him.

"Problem is I can't have you doing that in my trousers so I've got something."

As I spoke I pointed to the items I'd laid out earlier on the end of my bed. A pair of grey shorts and some long knee socks and you should have seen Den's eyes when he saw them. His pupils very nearly fell right out of their sockets. Clearly, the things dad had said were true. These were just the sorts of things that he'd dreamed about. So much so that he didn't need to be asked twice even if he did have some questions starting with where I'd got them from.

"Mum has contacts with school outfitters," I told him as he went over to look at them.

He picked them up, holding them against himself: "Are they my size?"

"Should be."

"You mean they still make shorts for fourteen year olds?"

I told him they did, and even for older people, although I didn't feel the need to tell him the pair I'd got for him, were actually meant for an eleven or twelve year old, as I didn't want to rub him that he wasn't all that tall for his age.

"Go on then. Put them on. There's a clean shirt and a v-neck there too."

It took only a few minutes before he'd done just that, returning to my room, clad as an old fashioned school boy should be, with his socks pulled all the way up his bare legs, and the somewhat snug fitting shorts doing little to hide just how much he was enjoying what he had on.

"Like them do you?" I asked.

"Um, er, I guess," came the best reply he could muster but it was good enough for me.

"Well, if that's the case then why don't you wear them all the time."

"What?"

"Sure, why not, I doubt anyone would mind. My mum and dad, like it when boys look smart, and I don't think Robin would even notice."

Den clearly wasn't listening to me as he made no reply, even though everything I'd said had been true enough. Still I knew the next part of my plan to help him along would get his attention.

"You ever been spanked?"

It worked. His jaw nearly hit the floor: "But, but, I'm fourteen. I'm too old to be spanked."

"You think about it through, don't you?"

"Yeah. I guess. A bit. But my folks don't believe in it."

"Mine don't either," I admitted before dropping my bombshell, "But that doesn't mean I don't."

He stared at me, like I'd just proclaimed I was Jesus having come back to save his soul. Actually I think he may have found that more likely, but still. Anyway, he didn't say anything so I had to just to make it absolutely sure we both knew what I was suggesting.

"I could spank you if you want."

"You?"

"Sure. Why not? If it's what you want, then that's what I'll do."

"But 3;"

I didn't say anything just got up from the chair I'd been sitting on, next to the wall, pulling it out into the middle of the room, where I once more sat down on it with my legs apart. "All you have to do," I said, "Is bend over my lap, like a naughty little boy."

The final part of that phrase I'd picked up from one of Dad's books but it seemed to do the trick. No sooner had I said it then Den appeared to go into some sort of dream state. A dream that caused him to walk towards me, until he was in reach. It being at this point that I helped guide him into the position that he clearly wanted to be in, and the one that I'd spent so long researching.

Taking Den's nearest arm, I guided him sideways, between my legs, before I used my left hand on his back, just below his neck, to push him down until he was in a bent over position across my leg, with his rear raised up, at the perfect angle for what was going to follow. I then locked him into place by crossing my feet at the ankles which trapped both is legs between mine.

By the time I rested my hand on the rear of his new shorts for the first time, Den was starting to realise what he was getting himself into. However when he turned his head around, he had another surprise. I'd positioned the chair so that, once bent over he would have a perfect view in the mirror of his own bent over body, and especially his buttocks all ready to be spanked. And seeing that he was ready. I got started.

Making sure he was still watching, I raised my hand up, and bought it down sharply on his rear.

THWACK!

The sound was more muffled than I was expecting by the corduroy shorts but the reaction certainly wasn't.

There was no reaction for a split second then, as what must have felt like a bolt of lightening travelled up from his bottom to his brain, Den let out a gasp that if nothing else, rather proved he hadn't been spanked by someone else before. If he had done then he'd have known just how much more it stings than anything someone could do to themselves.

THWACK!

I gave him a could sideways blow to his left buttock and then one to the right.

THWACK!

This got his attention so he was more than ready for the three quick ones that followed. One to the left, one to the right and then one dead on the centre.

THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!

The gasp turned into gasping, but I wasn't done yet, as I followed up by some lower down, right on the base of the curve of his buttocks, almost on the top of his thighs which, as the cliche says, really gave him something to complain about.

"Hurts!" he mumbled between gasps, but all that meant was I got to use another cliche about how it was meant to before I gave him another barrage that should, if I was doing it properly, bring tears to his eyes.

THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!

That series of five, just like the next one, visited all of the main points on Den's buttocks that I'd already spanked, making them all the more sore which, of course, was the point.

THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!

It worked. There were tears in his eyes. I'd actually made my fourteen year old cousin cry. But I wasn't done yet.

THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!

As I continued to spank Den, I noticed that it wasn't just his rear that was getting sore, my hand was too. Still, it wasn't as if I was going to cry about it, like he was.

THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!

From his view in the mirror, Den must have been fully aware of just how much he looked like a little kid being punished in the old ways. His legs were trapped, but twitching. His arms, failed about as much as his balance would allow him, bit his face was a mixture of tears and sweat, and very red.

THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!

Then came the breakthrough that all the pro-spanking books in Dad's collection had talked about. Den stopped struggling and just lay over my lap like a doll. This was, according to those books, the sign that the 'bad' boy had been broken. Of course, Den wasn't really a 'bad' boy, which probably explained why he'd been 'broken' much faster than any of those books had said could happen but that was okay, as it was the result I was after and meant I could stop spanking him and give my own poor sore hand a well earned rest.

"Up you get," I told him when I felt he'd had enough time to get himself back into some sort of order.

Naturally the first thing Den did, or that attempted to do, was to rub the seat of his shorts, but I wasn't having that.

"Don't do that. Naughty little boys don't get to do that. Go and stand in the corner with your hands on your head."

He gave me a look, to check I was serious, and when he saw I was, he actually smiled, which was a sure sign that I was reading this entire thing right, and that what I had planned next was just what he both wanted and needed.

"You can stand there and think about what you did."

And that's what he did. Dressed in his school boy shorts, and uniform, with his hands on his head, Den remained in the corner for half an hour, during which time I went about my usual business as if he wasn't even there whilst making enough noise so that he would know that I was always there so he wouldn't be tempted to rub his sore bottom or anything else for that matter.

"Right that's enough of that, time for the rest of your punishment."

His head snapped around, clearly surprised that we weren't finished already, and what he saw when he did clearly both surprised and pleased him for I was holding a large old fashioned plimsoll. The very sort of thing that they used to spank naughty boys with back in the old days and which I was not going to use on Den.

"Come over here," I told him, instructing him to remove the chair I'd sat on last time to spank him and to replace it with the table instead. This like the chair was positioned directly opposite the mirror so he would be able to see everything that went on for himself, including, of course his bottom. At least it would eventually.

I used a couple of pillows from my bed – this would prove to be a mistake in the long run but still – on the edge of the table. One folded over and then the other placed across it to make a steeper mound. This meant that when Den bent over it, his feet would barely be on the floor, with only his toes touching. His hands and arms would be stretched out, on the other side, making it difficult for him to let go.

"Okay, that will do," I nodded, when he tried it, and he nodded back, "But not I had another surprise for him."

"Take your shorts down."

"What?" he questioned as expected.

"You heard. Take your shorts down, and your pants, if you're wearing any, and bend over."

"But 3;"

"But nothing, naughty little boys get spanked on their bare bottom. Now drop them."

He did too. Not immediately but after a few seconds his hands went to his waist, snapped open the button on the shorts and then the zip. He then turned around to face away from him, even though I'd already spotted the lump in his shorts, while he'd been building his own spanking platform. Still by the time his shorts were around his ankles – there was no underwear – and he was bent over again, I could see rather more than his erection as the angle he was now in, not only bent over his buttocks, but spread them slightly, so that he looked very vulnerable, especially as it exposed his anus.

Not wanting to give Den the chance to change his mind I got right down to work. Raising the plimsoll up high and bring it sharply down.

WHOP!

The whistle of the old style footwear going through the air appeared to last forever, but the sound went it hit was remarkably more impressive than that made by my hand landing on his shorts. The sound Den made was also more impressive.

WHOP!

Another one landed, this time with more of an uppercut angle, catching Den directly on the break between his thighs and buttocks.

"Ow!" yelped Den so I went back to the first spot not wanting him to hurt too much too soon.

WHOP!

It didn't really make that much difference as Den's yelps increased all the time, with that one being so loud that had we been any other family then it probably would have bought parents running, but as it was, I knew everyone would ignore it, especially as my parents knew what I was doing.

WHOP!

With that one, Den very nearly let go of the desk, as tears sprung to his eyes for the second time that day.

WHOP!

I changed sides but must have mistimed either my blow or got the angle wrong. Whatever the reason, the plimsoll landed right smack on the centre of his buttocks, right over his anus. And boy did that make him jump. So I did it again.

WHOP!

This was when the one thing that had been mentioned in very small minority of dad's books. Den actually ejaculated while being spanked. This surprised me, as although I'd seen him do it, when he'd spanked himself, I had pretty much convinced myself that the pain from being spanked by someone else, would make it impossible. Yet Den managed it, and without even touching himself. Not only that it wasn't a couple of dribbles like it had been up in the attic, but squirt after squirt after squirt, all of which ended up in my pillow which was probably, for me anyway, the most unpleasant thing about the entire encounter. That I was going to have a sticky pillow until mum next did a wash. Guess that's why I gave Den a couple more blows with the plimsoll even though he was clearly finished.

WHOP! WHOP!

Den was strangely quiet, for those, as he lap collapsed over the desk, which pretty much told me that it was time to stop and give him some time to pull himself together.

It was nearly five minutes later when Den eased himself down off the desk. Both the front of his school uniform and my pillow were soaked with all sorts of liquids that I didn't want to think about, and Den was a little wobbly on his feet which wasn't all that surprising given just how red his bottom was.

I didn't make him go and stand in the corner this time, although he looked like he was going to at one point as I knew there was something else he had to do, unless he wanted his mates at school to find out what we'd been up to, the next time he got changed for gym. Telling him to go take a shower to clean himself up, and especially to use the finest cold spray on his bum to cool it down. Then to pat it dry rather than rub it, as that would just make it worse.

Oddly never once did he ask how I happened to know so much about that or the spanking that I'd already given him, but then I guess he had more things to think about. Like how the soreness in his buttocks was making walking so difficult. Or perhaps he was thinking about some of his other fantasies, and how he'd like them to come true, just like his spanking one just had.

Chapter Three: Captive

Days passed since the time I spanked by older cousin's bottom, and things got back to pretty much normal. I say 'pretty much' as one thing certainly did change. Dennis. Well not so much Dennis himself but it clothes.

It started of fairly slowly when Dennis got home from school he changed out of the jeans he'd worn to be educated, and into shorts. Not just any shorts either but the corduroy ones I'd spanked him in. Then, when people didn't say anything about that, he went to the next stage and started to wear the long socks, first rolled down, but then pulled up to just below his knees where they were rolled down neatly.

Once everyone started to get used to seeing his legs, he made the next change swapping the ever present t-shirt for a real button long sleeve shirt, that he wore at first open to the neck, but then on the second day, he put the tie on as well. Sometimes he would add the v-neck jumper and sometimes he didn't, but what he did do was brush his long hair, and use some sort of product to hold it down neatly in order to complete his transformation into an old style school boy.

Weird things is, I don't think Dennis even thought anyone noticed but they did. Of course I didn't say anything as I knew the reasons behind it, but then so did my mum and dad, not that Dennis knew that though. In fact the only one who didn't know about Dennis' interests with such things was his brother, Robin, and for whatever reason of his own, he didn't say anything either, so everything was okay. At least until the end of the week.

The weekend came around faster, as they always do when you're a kid, only this one was different as it was the first time that the three of us boys, myself, Dennis and Robin, were going to be left alone at the house. Dad had a conference somewhere and mum was going along for the ride. So we had the place all to ourselves. Problem was there wasn't all that much for three – well two and one almost – teenager boys to do in our house which is how we ended up in Dad's basement looking at his stuff.

Upon their first arrival Dad had taken the McKenzie brothers on an official tour of our house which naturally included his basement, although he had made them sign the usual confidentiality contracts first, to ensure they wouldn't tell anyone else. This wasn't because dad was ashamed of what he did and what he had, but his life work contain various people's life history and those were private. Anyway, once those were sighed he did his standard academic tour which, I had to say is incredible dull, and I'm not saying that because I've heard it dozens of times. Dad just can't help sounding like a professor, lecturing, and it puts anyone not being tested on his words to sleep. So I took the brothers on a somewhat more formal tour.

"So why does your Dad have all this stuff again?" Robin asked the question everyone asks.

"It's for his work," I explained, going on how he likes to use things for props during his lectures, on how children can be affected by the terrible things that get done to them, but also at the same time, can get over them, even if it can leave life long traces in their personality.

"Right, what about those."

Robin was pointing to a rack on the side wall where several pairs of leg irons from Dad's slavery section. My explanation making Dennis' ears pick up, "Really, leg irons, like slaves used to wear so they wouldn't run away in the old days?"

"Yeah, but not just back then. Some kids still wear them these days," I pointed out, referring to some of dad's recent work, both at home and abroad but Dennis wasn't really listening.

"Cane I try them on?"

"Why?" Robin laughed, "You thinking of running away? I thought you were a good little boy now."

That was the first time I'd heard Robin make a reference to the shorts, his brother was wearing, but clearly they had talked about it between themselves which, after all, is just what brothers should do, especially as Dennis had a perfect comeback ready, saying the only thing he'd want to run away was the smell of Robin's feet.

When the brothers had finished their somewhat cliched but at the same time, rather sweat scuffle, during which Dennis' head ended up in the crux of Robin's armpit, first with his nose pressed into the shirt, but then, when Dennis twisted away, his hair got ruffled. Once they were done, I told Dennis I didn't see if there would be any harm in him trying the leg irons on.

Robin had to reach up to get them down as they were just out of my and Dennis' reach. I still had to direct him which ones to get as the first pair were actually handcuffs, with a chain that was much too short, but in the end we got the right pair down along with a couple of small padlocks.

"You sure about this Denny?" Robin asked his brother, when everything was ready, using an older more childish version of Dennis name that I hadn't heard before but one which Dennis clearly seemed to like, at least while he was dressed like a little kid anyway.

Obviously given that he'd asked to try the leg irons on Dennis wasn't going to back down now so he told Robin to get on with it, lifting up one of his legs so his brother could catch it in his hand and put one of the leg iron cuffs around it, and then put the padlock through the hole and snap it closed.

Robin dropped Dennis foot but went down after it, kneeling on the floor so he could put the other leg iron on, and lock that shut too, at which point he took the keys out of the two padlocks – dad always leaves the keys in as a safety measure.

"Okay," I then said, "Try and walk around in them, but be careful not to trip over the chain."

Dennis did as I suggested, quickly getting used to only being able to take small steps. And I mean quickly. When Dad puts the leg irons on someone for the first time during one of his lectures they nearly always trip up, but Dennis was really good at walking with them on and even said he found them comfortable.

"What about if you wore them for a long time? Bet they wouldn't be comfortable then!" Robin mocked him, but Dennis said he was willing to try, which is how he ended up wearing them for the rest of the day while I was getting ideas that his interests didn't stop with being spanked and wearing short trousers.

"So," I asked Dennis when we were back upstairs. He'd reluctantly taken the leg irons off by then, but was still talking about them, so that's when I asked him if he liked being tied up.

"I guess," he said, in that same voice he'd used when I'd asked him about the shorts and spanking the first time.

"You ever been tied up then?"

"Not really," he admitted.

"Would you like to be?"

He didn't answer right away but I knew the answer already. Just as it had before the lump in his shorts had given him away. The only thing was I wasn't sure if it was the right thing to do so I asked Dad about when he rang that night.

"He's old enough to know what he likes," Dad said, which I could have predicted, but then he went on to explain how some kids like to be play what he called 'tie up games', where they tie each other up, or even tie themselves up.

Anyway, to cut a very long explanation short, dad didn't see any harm in it, as long as I was sure it was what Dennis wanted and that I didn't do anything to hurt him – which I wouldn't – Dad even pointed out some of the books in his collection that would show me the best ways to tie some up safely.

It was the Sunday morning of our weekend alone when I asked Dennis if he still wanted to be tied up, and if he would like me to tie him.

He was a little shocked, but nodded all the same so next I asked him how he wanted to be tied up, before listing a few options, like in a chair, standing up to a post, and hogtied. He choose the last one.

I then asked him if he wanted to be tied up loosely, so he would just get an idea what it was like, so tight that he could barely move, or something in between. Again he choose the last option. So that's what I told him I would do after lunch when Robin was going to go to the shops for supplies for the dinner we were going to make for my parents when they got back.

At the appointed time, I went up to the attic with a bag of all the things I would need and found Dennis waiting for wearing his usual school uniform.

"Are you going to wear that?" I asked and he nodded.

"Okay then, how long do you want to be tied up for? Ten minutes? Twenty? Thirty?

"How about until the morning?"

I told him that was too long reciting some of the things Dad had said about leaving someone tied up and gagged over night being dangerous.

"But it has to be a long time or else I won't know what it's like to be tied up for a long time," he reasoned back, which made some sense, so I said we'll see how it went and then take it from there, which he was fine with so I got started.

Using a bit of rope I'd bought up in my bag, I first bound Dennis' hands behind his back in the way I'd seen demonstrated in Dad's books, by crossing his wrists over, before running the rope around and around. Then when there wasn't much left to thread the rope through his arms and around that way, so that it pulls the loops together to form a tight middle that makes it far more difficult to get out of. The final knot was placed somewhere where he wouldn't be able to bend his fingers even close to.

I then got another bit of rope and started tying his upper arms together. Clearly he hadn't been expecting this but he didn't complain other than to grunt a little bit after I'd finished tying the cord around one of his forearms, I then went across to the other one, and pulling on the rope made sure that his arms were pulled as far behind his back as they would possibly go.

When that was done I finished off his upper arms by tying more rope around them, and then around the main part of his body so that not only wouldn't he be able to move them apart, but he wouldn't be able to get them away from his body either. And I wasn't even done then.

When he saw me picking up a large roll of wide silver tape, Dennis closed his mouth thinking that I was going to gag him with it, but that's not what I did, as I hadn't finished whit his hands yet. Instead I covered the ropes already tying his wrists together with the tape, and then worked down onto his hands themselves, until all his fingers were covered in tape and therefore completely useless to him.

Now it was time for the crotch rope, which I hadn't been all that sure about using as it was said to be the most uncomfortable part of being tied up, by several of dad's case studies who had spent a lot of their childhood playing tie up games. But when I'd finished tying Dennis' arms I could see he was prepared for him as those thing white gym shorts did next to nothing to hide his excitement. So, I tied the middle of another piece of rope to the ropes around Dennis' chest, before threading the two ends down around his erection, and up between his legs, where I tied them off to the same chest rope, but in the middle of his back. This not only also helped to hold his arms flat to the back of his body, but also gave him a short of wedgie as they pulled into the crack of his bum, through the shorts.

It wasn't long after that before I had Dennis's legs tied up every bit as well as I'd done his arms and in a similar way too. His ankles crossed over, and then bound. Further ropes bound him just above and just below the knees, and then I started in with the silver tape over the tope of everything to ensure they wouldn't be able to move.

I then asked him if he wanted to say anything, while I bounced a small rubber ball in my hand. There was two reasons for this. The first was to see if he did want to say anything, while the other was to give him an idea what I was going to do with the ball so it wouldn't come as much of a surprise when I squashed it up and put it in his mouth.

"Close your mouth around the ball, so it gets to fit right," I told him, then when he'd done that and he'd had a short time to get used to having the ball in his mouth, I finally used the silver tape for the thing he'd first suspected I would. Putting a strip over his now closed lips.

That was the start of the gag, but not the end of it. Once the first bit of tape was in place I then added to it. Putting another one over the first that was much longer, and then an even longer one that went right around the back of his head, and then came back again to the front before going around the back again.

"Talk to me!" I said but just as I'd thought he couldn't. In fact he could barely make any sounds at all, which is after all the point of a proper gag.

Finally it was time to get him into the hog tie he'd requested. For that he needed to be laying down, but with his legs and arms all bound up that didn't prove to be all that easy, as clearly I should have got him to sit down before I started on his legs. Still you live and learn.

Eventually, Dennis was laying face down on the attic rug, with a rope tied around the ropes that already bound his ankles. I then pulled his legs up, bending at the knees – which is why I'd only tied on either side of them – until his heels were pressing into the roundness of his buttocks. That was when I tied the rope of to first his wrists and then to his chest rope so they wouldn't move. Naturally I covered it all in silver tape anyway, not that it needed it, but it was good to do the job properly.

When it was all done, I told Dennis that I'd leave him like that for an hour to see how he liked it, which is what I did, settling into a chair with my book so I could keep an eye on him and, to see what he did.

The first thing Dennis did was to see just how far he could move, which wasn't all that much, obviously. His arms and legs were stuck right where I'd tied and taped them, and he could make no sounds at all, which was after all what he'd wanted. He did struggle though, twisting and turning the main part of his body around in experimentation, to see if anything would loosen but it didn't. I could even see his fingers, under the tape trying to reach something, or anything but that didn't work either.

I wondered what was going through his mind and if he was enjoying it, as he lay there all helpless bound up and gagged, like someone who'd been kidnapped, but, if he wanted to be released all he had to do was look at me and wink – the safety signal I'd devised – and I'd have done it. Only he didn't. Not even when the hour was up.

It was two hours later when Robin came home with the things he'd bought, but even then Dennis didn't want to be let go, so I just left him there on the floor when I went downstairs to help Robin put stuff away and get dinner ready for the three of us.

When the food was ready I did a rather sneaky thing almost without thinking about it – although Dad says no one does anything totally without thinking about it – anyway, what I did was send Robin to get his brother without telling him just why Dennis couldn't come downstairs on his own.

It was fifteen minutes before I saw either of the brothers again but just when I was starting to wonder what was going on, they appeared, only Dennis was still part way tied up.

"Like what you did?" Robin said, nodding towards his kid brother whose arms were still tied, and mouth still gagged. "Don't know why I didn't do that years ago when he first asked."

"Dennis asked you to tie him up before?"

"Oh yeah all the time, for years but I never did. Sort of wish I had now as he's a lot less trouble like this."

"Is that why you've left him tied up?"

"Sure is," Robin laughed. "Just a shame I had to undo his legs so he could walk but I didn't want to risk carrying him down the narrow attic steps. Mind you good job I did as he was bursting for a pee."

As I started to get the dinner up Robin explained how he hadn't been all that surprised to see Dennis tied up as it wasn't the first time he'd seen it as Dennis had tied himself up before – just like Dad had said – and that he'd got stuck a couple of times. However, on this occasion it soon became clear that Dennis hadn't tied himself up as he was just bound too well for that. Anyway, Robin had started to untie him by releasing him from the hog tie first, and then undoing his legs, but then had come to the conclusion he'd mentioned to be, about how he could just leave the rest for now which is what he told Dennis he was going to do.

Then Robin had rolled his brother over and saw that he was close to wetting himself as the front of his shorts were damp so he took his brother into the bathroom – he was still unsteady on his legs at this time from being tied up for so long – and leaving the crotch rope in place, unfastened his shorts and let him pee before bringing him downstairs.

This was a great story but I knew there had to be more to it, as I wasn't so young as to know that Dennis' shorts were wet with pee but because he'd got off while he was tied up. Robin, at sixteen, must have known that too, but he didn't mention it, no doubt, as he didn't want to embarrass his brother who nonetheless was still going a bright shade of red under the silver tape that still covered the bottom part of his face.

We put Dennis at his usual spot at the table, while I dished up, and Robin finally removed the tape from his face, and the ball from his mouth.

"What about my arms?" he asked, once his jaw and voice were working once more.

"What about them?" Robin asked him back, "You wanted to be tied up so that's how you're staying."

I half expected Dennis to argue but of course, he didn't as what Robin said was after all true. He had asked to be tied up although he did ask how he was going to eat. At which point Robin volunteered to feed him, like he had done when Dennis had been a baby, which was a little odd given there was only a couple of years between them but I didn't think about that until Dennis was well into his next adventure.

Anyway, that's what happened Robin fed his tied up brother, and then, while I cleared up, he even gagged him again. Then we had him walk back upstairs to the attic where we once more tied him up albeit a little looser than I'd first done it, and on the bed, with a towel underneath his middle, this time so he would be more comfortable. Then we left him there for the rest of the evening.

In keeping with dad's instructions we finally untied Dennis when it was time to bed, and he wasn't the slightest bit mad at all as he'd clearly enjoyed being first mine and then Robin's prisoner and that he'd love to try it again some time. And he would too, but first he had some regression in mind.

Chapter Four: Toddler

It was a few days later when Dennis – or rather Denny as I now called him – asked if he could have a look around Mum's dare care which seemed fair enough as he didn't quite put it like that but was asking what I did when I helped out down there. This I took as him just being polite not realising just where his interest was, or where it would take the both of us.

I told him I was doing the nappy class, for the little kids that hadn't quite got the hang of going to the toilet on their own just yet, but even that didn't seem to phase Denny, which probably should have given me a hint as to where this was going to go, but it didn't.

Anyway, we went down to the day care parts of the house, checking in with mum first so she'd know we were there, as per the rules and then on down to the class where I was helping out for the day.

I introduced Denny to the women in charge, who almost immediately complimented him on how smart he looked in his schoolboy shorts, before giving me a look that told me that I was scruffy in jeans and oversized sweatshirt. Mind you, that was the same look she always gave me so it didn't really matter. Denny though wasn't paying any attention at all he was too busy staring at the members of the class, and in particular the fact that half the boys there – mum likes to separate the sexes at this stage for some reason – were wearing nothing by nappies. The rest were clothed, as a sign that they were on the final stages of potty training, having moved onto to pull ups rather than full on nappies.

The routine I explained to Denny once I'd got his attention back, was that I helped with "potty time" which was, just as it sounded, the occasion where those who could got to use the plastic toilets in the next room, and the rest got their nappies changed.

Denny asked, with a hint of excitement in his voice, which I was in charge of, and seemed oddly disappointed when I said the potty line which is odd as I'd have expected him to be relieved.

Anyway, we soon got down to business getting all the toddlers into two lines. Those in nappies in front of the changing table, and the rest in front of me where, one at a time I got to check all the dressed boys one by one, to see if anyone had wet or worse in their pull ups. If they had they were sent over to the changing table, but if they hadn't then they got to go into the potty room, and do what they had to do in there and then line up again so I could check they washed their hands.

Lunch followed, so Denny helped me pull out the highchairs for the boys still in nappies, as was the rule, waiting until they had climbed up, before snapping the trays in place. The rest of the boys eating around a low table on tiny plastic chairs.

When all the food was served, myself and the teacher would retreat to her desk where we would eat our own, but there were only two seats. I told Denny I didn't mind standing up while he eat first but he said it didn't matter as he'd sit at the little kids table. I told him he wouldn't fit as he was too big but he went and proved me wrong, squashing himself down into the little chair, even though his bare knees stuck up high on either side, making me slightly worried that he wouldn't be able to get up again.

Thankfully when the time came Denny was able to extract himself from the toddler chair, which meant I was finished for the day and could give Denny the tour of the day care liked I'd promised I would. Not that there was much else to see given that it was nap-time in the baby section and for obvious reasons we couldn't go into the girls part of the building, This only left the medical wing, which was where mum took care of sick kids who while too ill to go to school weren't sick enough to stay in hospital. This, it turned out was the very thing Denny had been wanting to see all along.

The moment we got into the 'day' room of the medical wing, Denny was enthralled, with the kids who were there and not just because they were older than those in the rest of the day care centre, up to eight, nearly nine.

Being sick, most of them were in pyjamas, and dressing gowns, although a few were dressed in standard clothes, but some were also wearing nappies. Not that Denny was surprised by that, although they were surprised by his appearance, apparently thinking that he would be joining them, the kids immediately crowded around Denny, asking what was wrong with him? How old he was? Which hospital he'd been in? and which school? For these last two Denny was given a sort of multiple choice answers, as the kids shouted out their own, but noticeably all the schools mentioned were primary. Clearly, because of the way he was dressed, no one thought Denny was old enough to go to anything else.

Denny was only saved from having to answer all these questions – most of which had been put to him all at once, in the way little kids to, making it difficult to answer anyway – but the nurse calling out that it was nap time, which signalled for the kids to split into groups, just like in the potty room.

Those kids in nappies had them checked, with the messy ones whisked away to a side ward to be changed. A couple of others, who hadn't been wearing them before, also went, meaning they had trouble staying dry whilst asleep. The rest got to help tidy up, which Denny and I also helped with, until those in nappies came back at which point everyone moved into the 'night' room.

It obviously wasn't 'night' but mum did sometimes take kids overnight and it was where all the sleeping rolls, beds and cots were kept.

The majority of the kids, especially the older ones, had their own bed rolls, which they unrolled themselves before laying down on them, full clothed. Others had small, low beds on which they slept, which the remained of the little ones had new, modern cots to sleep in.

"What's that one for?" Denny asked when he spotted the old style pediatric crib, with it's cage like appearance of steel bars, and rubber covered mattress. "And why is it so big."

I explained that it was for older kids and wasn't really used, anymore, going on to say how dad said that in the old days of places like this, the older children would be punished by being put into nappies and baby clothes, before being locked into the crib to humiliate them.

Denny wasn't shocked and with good reason as it seems he read about it in some of Dad's case studies at which point I hustled him out of there before anyone over heard about what he'd done, as that stuff was all meant to be private. However, back in the main part of the house, I asked him if that's why he'd wanted to go to the day care centre and he said it was before he sulked off back to the attic, no doubt to take care of the once more expanded front of his shorts.

***

That night I gave myself, with dad's help naturally, a crash course in what I was soon to learn was called infantilism, up to and including the same true life stories that Denny himself had read about teenage boys who were, for one reason or another, back wearing nappies again. Some did it because they had to for medical reasons, and came to like it, other because they were forced by abusive or even well meaning adults, but many were just boys who wanted to, and didn't know why. Naturally their worried parents, once they found out, sent them to dad to get them "sorted" but dad always refused to do that pointing out that most teen babies (as they were called), were often the brightest, and always did well at school because they weren't out and about, as babies just didn't do that.

Or, in other words, there was nothing wrong with a teenage boy wanting to be treated like a baby. Plus, like Dad said, given that Denny was all ready dressing like a boy several years younger than he actually was and getting away with it, then why not take it a bit further and make him a baby. So that's what I told Denny.

"Really!" he seemed both surprised and shocked at the same time, but not horrified by the idea, even as I explained the rules my parents and I had made up between us.

"While we can get most of what you'll need from downstairs, you're older than all mum's clients," I told him referring to the kids in the medical ward, "So nothing down there will fit you, so we're going to have to get you some of your own."

This wasn't really all that true, and Denny probably knew it, as at least one of the kids we'd seen the day before was very nearly his size, but it was something dad had said about Denny having to take control of whatever it was he was interested in, and not to hide it, like he had been doing initially with the shorts. He was now used to them, so he could get used to other things too without feeling ashamed.

It was the weekend, so I'd arranged for us to take a trip to a specialist shop mum uses, who could supply the things Denny was interested in, and had got mum to call ahead so they'd be expecting us. Not, of course, that Denny would know any of this, and nor would he realise it, in his excitement to get to try out yet another of his fantasies.

The stockist was on the outside of town so I had dad give us a lift, although just to prevent Denny's blushes, Dad said he was visiting a client out that way so he would be able to take us and pick us up again but not stay with us, which of course, Denny was gratefully relieved about as he still thought everything we did was a secret.

Once inside the stockist Denny was clearly surprised by all the different brands and styles of nappies there were, not to mention the brand names, and the size. Thankfully, the stockist was laid out in age range, so we were able to go directly to the 'teenage' section. However, once there it was obvious that all those would be somewhat too big for Denny, as he was more my size than anything else, so we eventually drifted back to the 'pre-teen' range although even there the upper end of the range was clearly too big for Denny.

We ended up with a package of pre-teen medium nappies and started for the checkout with Denny carrying his purchase and looking, it has to be said, somewhat sheepish about it so I suggested that we take a slight re-rout through the clothing department thinking that this would give him a laugh like it always did me to see all the baby clothes in much bigger sizes. However, that wasn't quite his reaction.

The clothing the stockist carried was mostly of the practical side, for whatever medical condition the customer's clients may have, which naturally made it seem a little odd to the eyes of a modern boys. This included the night wear they offered, or even the fact that they offered night wear given that most boys, even of my age would have given up on pyjamas years earlier to sleep in their boxers, or less. This is why I took Denny to see them first, as I'd been to the stockist many times with my mum, and the sight of the big all in one pyjamas always made me laugh, especially those that had the feet built in, as they went right up to teenage sizes but what teenager would be seen dead wearing them? Well one, as I was about to find out.

"Oh wow!" Denny mumbled under his breath when he saw the rack of footed pyjamas. The sight stopping him right in his tracks for a few seconds before he cautiously approached.

I was so surprise that I was routed to the spot as Denny felt the soft warm fleece between his fingers and then started eying up the size chart to see what would fit him.

Denny eventually, after much thinking about it, pulled out a light blue pair that was covered in what looked like, for a distance, white lines but which actually were, on closer inspection, tiny little pictures of dinosaurs. These he held against himself to ensure they would fit before he rolled them up, making sure to hide the feet parts inside the rest. Then he said he was ready to pay.

At the checkout there was, no one there, but then that wasn't really a surprise as the stockist normally delivered in bulk and didn't have all that many walk in customers so we had to wait for a few minutes after I'd rung the bell, for someone to appear.

The 'someone' who turned up, must have been the youngest member of the staff, as he couldn't have been more than sixteen or seventeen, and although he must have been expecting us, when his eye caught just what Denny was carrying he did a double take. Looking at Denny with a rather puzzled look in his eye, while Denny turned every shade of red there was, especially as it was clear, at least to me, that the cashier wanted to say something but, couldn't as no doubt he wasn't allowed to.

All in all it must have been every bit as much a test for the cashier as it was for Denny to get through that transaction but in the end we all made it. The bill was paid, and we were out of the stockist and back into dad's car, and then back home.

***

Denny went off like a fire cracker the moment dad pulled to a stop outside our place, clutching his purchases to his chest as he made his way directly to the attic to try everything on. Dad, just smiled, saying that next time, we'd have to get Denny a toddler style car seat, so he couldn't do that again, which made me laugh. Mind you I wasn't about to say that to Denny, just in case he liked the idea.

By the time I got up to the attic Denny had already ripped open the bag and had one of them in his hand feeling the soft white texture of the padded, absorbent material with the re-stick-able tabs on either side. With his other hand, Denny read the then re-read the instructions on the side of the packaging to find out how to put the thing on. Naturally they only showed how to put it on someone else and for a moment I thought Denny was going to ask me to do it, but thankfully he was too tied up in the moment for that.

Spreading out the nappy on his bed, he carefully arranged it with the tabs at the back, just like the diagram showed on the packaging before his prep school uniform started to go flying around the room.

It was a strange sight to see as recently Denny had always been so careful to look after his uniform but now he had other things on his mind leaving me to pick up whatever came flying in my direction, while he laid himself down on top of the opened up nappy, and reached down between his legs to bring the front of it up over his excited penis.

At this stage I should have told him about the baby oil and talcum powder that he'd need to use to prevent the nappy from getting sore, but I doubt he would have listened even if I had said something. Especially as he had already started fastening the tapes around the front of the nappy to hold it in place.

For a moment Denny just lay on his bed getting used to the feeling of wearing a nappy for the first time since he'd been a little kid but then he remembered that wasn't all he'd bought from the stockist and got the footed pyjamas out of their bag, and unzipped them down the back.

Sitting on the edge of the bed Denny started to slip his right foot into the leg hole but then stopped to pull off his socks – the only items of clothing that had survived his previous hurried strip tease – before putting his foot back in again.

A slight noticeable shiver ran up Denny's body as his foot became encased in the in the soft warm fleece material, slotting right down in the foot shape at the end of the leg.

Next he put his left leg into the other leg hole and once more it slipped right down to the bottom without any trouble, until it was nice and snug at the bottom.

Now came what proved to be the tricky part but which would prove to be easier the more he did it, getting the top on, as Denny, like most modern teenagers just wasn't used to wearing one piece clothing. He got one arm into a sleeve attempting to put the sleeper on like a jacket, but that didn't work as there wasn't enough of it to go around his back, and he couldn't bend his other arm at the correct angle to get it on.

In the end I had to tell Denny to put both his arms in the sleeves in front of him, at once, and the to work it up his arms, unto his shoulders. In the process of doing this though, he managed to get into a right tangle, so I had to help him out with a bit more practical help pulling it up for him, and dragging the sides around his back so the zip would meet up down his spine.

"I could put an extending bit on the zip, like on wetsuits," I suggested when he attempted to reach around behind himself to zip the sleeper up, only to find his arms didn't really bend in the right directions but he declined stating, rightly, that sleepers didn't come with one so it didn't need one.

I did the zip up for him as he didn't have the hang of that yet, but at least that meant I was able to fasten the footed pyjamas closed properly by bringing the collar around and tucking the zipper tab underneath it which not only made it look a lot neater but, we would both realise later, meant Denny wouldn't be able to get the sleeper off, on his own.

Once Denny was dressed he did what any teenage boy would want to do in new clothes, to see what he looked like in the mirror. Not that he looked like a teenage boy at all anymore, but more like a little toddler in his childish one piece pyjamas though which, I no noted, you could actually make out the whiteness of the nappy he was wearing underneath.

Not only that but as Denny wasn't used to wearing one piece of clothing and was used to a lot more freedom in his movements, especially since he'd been wearing shorts. Now though, the footed parts of the pyjamas pulled down on his shoulders if he made too large a step, limiting his stride. While, at the same time, the unaccustomed thickness of the nappy between his legs, led his to bow his knees slightly, giving him a seriously comical look that only added to the illusion of him being younger than he really was and that was without hearing the crinkling and rustling that the nappy made beneath the fleece material.

"Wait there, I've got some stuff downstairs for you," I told him, thinking that he'd probably need a few minutes to himself to take care of the erection he was sure to still have while forgetting that he couldn't actually get the sleeper off to play with himself.

When I returned some fifteen minutes later, having checked in with mum that the stockist had been okay, I found Denny still in his sleeper of course, but now sitting on the floor, crossed legged reading a comic book.

"Here I got you a drink!" I told him, holding out a glass of juice. Only that glass was for me. Denny's drink was in the sippy cup with a handle on each side, that Mum had given me to make Denny laugh. Not that it did, of course, he just took it and used it, sucking all the juice out through the small holes in the lip. Still at least that meant I wasn't wrong with the other thing I'd bought him up. A dummy.

It was the largest size mum had in her stock, not that I think she'd ever used it, as no kid of even six or seven would be seen with a dummy in their mouth, not that this bothered Denny of course, he just picked it up, looked at it, and then stuck it in his mouth, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

And that was when Robin came back from the library where he'd been studying.

I hadn't planned for Robin to see his little brother dressed up this time, like I had with the shorts, although dad had suggested that we bring him into what we were doing for his brother, I wasn't sure Denny was ready, and given the startled look on Denny's face when he saw Robin, I think I was probably right. He wasn't ready to be seen yet, but there was nothing he could do about it other than to spit out the dummy in his mouth and hide it behind his back.

Needless to say Robin was more than a little surprised to see his fourteen year old brother sitting on the floor in a footed sleeper, especially as it was still quite early in the day. But, to his credit he handled it really well even if he did stare for a moment longer than usual. Eventually though, he managed a quick "Hey Denny, nice pyjamas." Before quickly leaving the room again.

I followed Robin to explain what had happened. His first question being, somewhat oddly, where the sleeper had come from so I explained that it had been Denny's idea and how he was trying some things out to see what he liked.

"You mean like being tied up and the school uniform stuff?" he replied, as after all he was the clever one in the family so was hardly likely not to have noticed the things his kid brother had been up to recently.

We finished up, after quite a long talk, agreeing that as long as whatever Denny wanted to do, wasn't hurting anyone else, or himself, then it was okay at which point Robin revealed that he'd bought food back with him for the three of us and that it was getting cold, unless we eat it right away.

Downstairs we eat in the kitchen like we always did, while mum and dad were at work, which meant amongst other things that Denny didn't have to change out of his sleeper. Not that he actually could without someone's help, but never once did he ask so clearly he didn't want to.

However, as Denny walked around the table to his seat, what he was wearing beneath the sleeper announced itself by rustling and crinkling, and although Robin didn't say anything, he certainly noticed and what's more knew what the sounds meant. His little brother was wearing a nappy. Yet this time he said nothing, at least not about that, instead he offered Denny a napkin.

This Denny took but instead of putting it on his lap like Robin and I did, he tucked it into the collar of his sleeper so it was laid out over his chest, like it was baby's bib.

After dinner, the three of us carried on as usual, or sort of like usual anyway, for now Robin joined in the various games that we played whereas normally he didn't while all the time, naturally – or so it was starting to seem – Denny remained in his sleeper.

When it came around time for bed, Denny was already yawning in that over the top way that little kids do whilst stretching in every which way possible. Or at least every way the sleeper would let him, which wasn't really all that much. Yet while I felt for him confined in that all-encompassing garment, he clearly didn't. Feeling instead, all safe and secure being completely surrounded by the warm soft blanked fleece material.

Of course the one thing I wanted to ask him, and I strongly suspect that Robin did too, was if Denny had actually used the nappy he was wearing for it's intended use. I strongly suspected that he had, given that he'd been wearing it for several hours and in that time I'd gone to the toilet twice, as had Robin. Still, if that was the case, then the nappy was certainly every bit as absorbent as the packaging had claimed.

One thing was sure, that night, Denny had such a good night's sleep that as Robin so adeptly put it he slept just like the baby he looked like.

Chapter Five: Controlled

The nappies became a regular part of Denny's life with us. When he came home from school he still changed into his school boy uniform, but now that only lasted until eight at night when he would take himself off to his room and change into his nappy and footed sleeper, which is how he would spend the remainder of the evening, and slept. I couldn't be entirely sure but I'm pretty certain that Denny used the nappies too, at least to pee in, and perhaps even more but if he did that out of choice then, according to Dad there was nothing wrong with it, as he wasn't hurting himself, or anyone else.

Everything seemed to be going smoothly and it looked like my cousin had worked through all his fantasies and was, for the most part happy with the results, which was naturally good. However, that wasn't quite the case, as Denny had yet to work through his interest in that old locking crib down in the changing room. What we didn't know is that we were just about to give him the perfect chance to see what it was like and that, would in turn lead us to find out, even more about what he was interested in.

To celebrate the first of Robin's exams starting my parents and I were taking him out for a meal in the hopes of calming his nerves before the impending tests, and also to give him a break from the almost non stop studying he'd been doing. Denny had, of course, been invited but had cried off saying that he had a stomach ache, which, admittedly no one believed, but my parents weren't about to force him to go if he didn't want to. Personally I just thought he wanted time on his own to play out his school boy fantasy some more, but I was wrong. That wasn't the fantasy he was going to be doing at all.

I didn't find out everything Denny did until much later although some of it was clearly obvious when we got back from the meal. Still what happened was that as soon as we all left, Denny snuck down into Mum's day nursery which was, obviously, closed up for the night. Letting himself in with the keys, we went through the building directly to the changing room, and particularly the metal medical crib, which, as always was left wide open, but with the keys nearby 'just in case'.

Denny's idea was simply, to spend a little time in the crib, to see what it was like, and then, get back to his room, and pretend nothing had happened. It was odd that given all the two of us had been through he didn't just ask to try the crib out, but he didn't, he did it on his own.

Now, Denny wasn't stupid, and he knew from what I'd told him that the crib was designed so the child inside it couldn't get out, which is why it had a lid and a lock. However, on studying it, he realised that although no one would be able to even reach the lock from inside, if the key was left in the keyhole, he could put the end of a coat hanger, into the eye of the key and still work it like that. This is what he needed to try out before he did anything else.

Still dressed in his schoolboy outfit even though it had just gone eight, Denny Climbed into the crib, pulling up the side, but not the lid. Then, laying down, as if the lid was in place, he tried to work the key in the lock, just by reaching through the bars which, he was very pleased to learn, worked perfectly.

It was time to get changed as, clearly Denny couldn't wear his school uniform in the crib, but had to be dressed for it. Of course he had the very things, and in a few moments from the successful test of the lock, he was wearing nothing but a pair of his nappies, having both oiled and powdered himself, upon one of mum's changing mats, that he'd placed on the floor for that very purpose.

Now properly attired, Denny returned to the crib, where he carefully inserted the key with it's release mechanism, in place before he once more climbed inside, pulling up the sides and then lifting the heavy lid up and over the top until it slotted down into the sides with a solid thumb, followed almost instantly by a click as the lock engaged it. Trapping him inside.

For the next hour or so, Denny generally explored what life was like when you're locked inside a crib. Seeing how far he could, or couldn't move, discovering that he could lay down almost flat, he could sit up, he could even kneel up, which surprised him. However that wasn't the only thing that surprised him.

During his various manoeuvres around the crib Denny had sort of half heard a soft clattering sound but had paid it little attention, lost as he was in his world of being a fourteen year old baby, it not being until he came to press his face to the bars on the near side of the cot that he noticed what it had been. The answer being given by the shocking sight of a small key, attached to a coat hanger, laying on the floor.

Denny reacted in the same way that many an old time child would have done upon discovering themselves locked into a crib, and tried to get out. Of course, the crib was designed just to stop that from happening. The bars could take a lot more stress and strain than he could give them, as could the entire sold construction. The crib was built somewhat high of the ground so nurses wouldn't have to bend down, so even by pushing his shoulder all the way up to the bars, so he could extend his arm all the way out, there was still no way, Denny could even reach the floor with his fingertips, let alone actually pick anything up. He was stuck.

From that point on, Denny only had one hope. This being that when we all got home Robin would miss him, tell me, and I'd then think of coming down to the changing room to find and release him. If that didn't happen then they first people to find him, trapped in the crib, wearing just a nappy would be the nursery staff the following morning by which time he would have had little option but to use the nappy for everything it was designed for.

Oddly this latter fear would turn out to be one of his fantasies but, as my dad had explained to me a number of times, just because someone thinks about something happening to them, it doesn't always mean that's exactly what they want to happen.

Thankfully it was the former option, that turned out to be the truth and it was me who discovered Denny locked and slightly soiled in the crib and was able to release him before anyone found out. Well that's what Denny would have thought anyway as, obviously, I told my parents what had happened so my mum could get everything cleaned up before she opened up the following morning. Dad though, had some opinions about what Denny wanted and how I could find out about it from my cousin.

The following morning that's what I did, asking straight out in my usual blunt way, just what it was that Denny was thinking when he was putting himself into the crib and it seems Dad wasn't so far off the money on that one, but then it did tie into everything else he'd wanted previously. It seems he'd got the idea, like other things, from some of Dad's case studies. Particularly the ones of young teenage boys, like himself who had been punished by being 'regressed' to a young age, and then put under the control of a chronological sibling, who from then on, out ranked them and from whom the teenager had to follow instructions.

It all sounded like abuse to me, but Denny was certain that it could also be fun, even showing me cases from dad's files where this appeared to be the case, saying that he'd like to try some of the scenarios depicted out.

I had a lot of reading to do following that meeting with Denny, which led to several chats with my dad, as between us we worked out a series of events that could possibly be carried out, and when which turned out to be that weekend.

***

The Saturday I put the plan into action I woke Denny by pulling his bedclothes off him, and shouting at him to get up "or else."

Denny was, to say the least, a little surprised, even though I'd warned him that I was going to start this fantasy today, but I guess he was still half asleep as he just grabbed for the bed clothes and pulled them back over himself again.

"Don't you remember," I shouted at him, "I'm in charge of you now and you have to do everything I say, 'or else'!"

The 'or else' wasn't specified, as there was nothing to back it up, given that Denny could actual stop the fantasy any time he wanted to just by saying the 'safe' word. This was something Dad had come up with, and was, he said, a standard get out clause in fantasy play. At any time, if someone says the 'safe' word then the fantasy stops right there and then. Naturally, this meant the word had to be something that wasn't likely to come up in the normal course of events, which is why Denny and I, had settled on. "Hippopotamus" although we later shortened that to Hippo, as it was easier to say.

Anyway, it took a few seconds for Denny's sleep filled brain to process what was going on, but then, when it did, he jumped out of bed saying "Please don't tell."

"That's better," I told him, as he stood before me in his footed sleeper with his hands clasped behind his back which was a sight to be sure, but not the one I wanted, if I was going to humiliate him like he wanted to. So the first thing I told him to do was stripped naked.

For a fourteen year old to be ordered about my a twelve year old is one thing, but to be told to strip is something else. Mind you, this was probably less so in this case as I'd already seen most of Denny naked before, and by the fact he had to ask me to help him release the zipper from his sleeper anyway.

"Right then," I said once he was naked, and I'd had a good look at him from all angles. "Let's see how clean you are."

It was an inspection routine that was depicted in several of the case studies Denny had liked so much so he knew what to expect, although perhaps not the latex gloves I put on before I started, to check around the back of his neck, and behind his ears. Then I made him lift both his arms while I checked out his armpits, first visually, and then by running a fingertip across each in turn, making him giggle slightly, as I toyed with the little hairs that were just about starting to grow there. Then, in a highly dramatic – albeit hammy – fashion I sniffed these fingers, and pulled a face. "Ugh!"

The inspection continued on that note until I got down to his groin where, I'm pretty sure he thought I was going to skip, but he should have known I'm not as squeamish about such things like a lot of boys, so didn't think twice about just grabbing hold.

Instantly Denny let out a slight gasp but, to his credit managed to hold his composure, as I continued by examination, doing just what a doctor would do, by feeling around his testicles, and then skinning back his foreskin, to expose the redness of the crown of Denny's penis, which I then gave a little squeeze just enough to make him yelp so I could deliver the line I knew he was waiting for.

"Not very big are you Denny."

He didn't reply, which I probably should have made him do as being teased about the undeveloped nature of his genitals was a main part of this humiliation process, to make any teenager feel like a little kid again. Instead I moved onto the next part of the process.

"You are filthy all over," I barracked him. "Just like a dirty little boy, but let's see what we can do about that. Follow me."

Having delivered my lines, I stormed out of the attic with the still naked Denny following, with just a curious glance over to the second bed in the room where his brother, may, or may not, have still been sleeping.

I'd pre-filled the bath with water, and told Denny to get in.

Gingerly he put a foot in, before complaining that it was freezing which is what it should have been had I followed the script correctly, but instead it was actually just about tepid, although it would have felt cold as it was still below body temperature. Still none of that was the point so I just repeated the 'or else' line, and Denny put his other foot in and started to lower himself down.

When Denny got to the point where his bare buttocks were starting to touch the water, he hesitated which was my cue to put my hands on his shoulders and push him in, telling him to duck himself right down so he got totally wet and to stay there – with his head above water, obviously – until I was ready.

For the next few minutes I pretended to get the things together that I'd done before I woke him up, before I told him to stand up. Then I started to wash him.

It was a bit more effort that I would have liked to put into but to follow the fantasy, I had to be rough with him, so I rubbed away at his skin as if I meant it. Starting with his face and then working down his arms, and across his back, chest and stomach. Then I told him to lift his legs in turn and had him standing there on the other leg while I finished up. Finally I made sure to rub the lotion I'd been using and which I can only assuming Denny thought was a baby soap, around his privates and over his buttocks.

Oddly it was only when I had Denny stand in the bathtub for five minutes while the water drained, that he seemed to become aware of two things. One being that I'd kept the latex gloves on while I'd washed him, and secondly that whatever it was that I'd washed him in, really, really, really stank. That was when I showed him the bottle I'd used.

"Hair remover," he read, a calm remaining on his face for a further second before the penny dropped. "You can't be serious!"

"Little boys don't have hair except on their heads," I said,

"But people will notice."

"Touch!"

"But 3;" he started to say, but I cut him off before he could.

"Little cousin," I said, using a term he'd once used about me, "You're only eight now, so you have to do what I say because I'm twelve and you know what will happen if you don't."

"You'll spank me," he admitted, not quite as humbly as he should have.

There was no need for me to say anything else to that, as the time was now up allowing me to turn on the shower attachment and clean him off, the water taking all of his body hair with it, which became all the more apparent when I had him step out of the bath.

I moved to one side so Denny could see himself in the bathroom mirror and just how young he looked without any hair on his body. The cream had done a really good job, just like mum had said it would. Not only had it removed all the dark hairs from under Denny's arms, but also the even finer ones that had been growing on his shins and forearms, along with his pubes, of course. But I wasn't finished washing him yet, as we still had the more personal areas to do. Ones that I couldn't do with the hair remover.

I started with the biggest job first, washing Denny's hair, then left that wet enough to keep water running down his face when I once more grabbed hold of his penis.

Pulling back the foreskin, I gave it a complete wash, along with his testicles, on the outside, before I retracted his foreskin and did the same on the inside.

"Okay bend over," I told him, and for a moment it looked like he was going to ask me why he deserved the spanking he thought I was going to give him. However that wasn't my intention at all, as he was about to discover from the next instructions I gave him.

"Spread your cheeks apart."

There was a moment's pause but then he did it, reach back around both sides of his himself to take hold of his buttocks and spread them wide enough so that I could see not only his entire crack but also the hole that nestled between them for which I had another surprise.

Denny gasped as he felt something running up and down the crack of his bottom, but he maintained his position, right up until I pushed it a little way inside his hole.

When it was done, I allowed him to stand up, making sure that he saw I was holding his toothbrush, so that he'd jump to the conclusion this was what I'd pushed up his bottom when, that had actually been my finger. Still, it would give him something to think about every time he brushed his teeth in future.

When we'd finished in the bathroom – naturally I made Denny clean up any and all mess that we'd made – we went to my bed room where I'd got some clothes laid out of him to wear to make sure that he would look like my little cousin even when he wasn't naked.

Oddly Denny seemed quite keen to put on the clothes I'd managed to rescue from the back of my wardrobe, even though it was just a red and white vest and a pair of elastic waist shorts. These were my old clothes from when I'd been about eight or nine or so, which meant they didn't really fit Denny, the shirt being a bit short and the shorts being both very short and rather tight. But, as I looked at him standing there, they really did make him look so much younger. Albeit it a little kid who was out growing his clothes, but still, no more than eight or nine at the most.

Then, I joined Denny at the mirror, so he would see the obvious difference between us now. Our heights naturally stayed the same as they always had been, with him being fractionally taller than me, but with my jeans, trainers, and sweat shirt, next to him, it seemed clear that I was the older, by some years which was just what I'd been hoping for.

We went downstairs next, where I had another surprise that Denny didn't know anything about but which he only discovered when he walked into the living room to find two other boys already sitting there.

"Mum must have showed them in," I explained, to Denny who was standing in the doorway like a deer caught in headlights staring at the boys, "This is Carl and Jon, they live nearby. Boys, this is my little cousin Denny."

The brothers turned and said "Hi" together while doing that thing that little kids always do when meeting another one for the first time, looking Denny up and down which, to be fair, Denny was doing right back at them himself.

"Go on Denny go and sit down the brothers won't hurt you."

Denny gave me a look which could have been to question why I was bring other boys into his fantasies, or it could have been to wonder if Carl and Jon actually were brothers, as they didn't really look like it, given that Jon was blond and fair skinned, while Carl's name was really Carlos, and he looked every bit as Spanish as that version of his name sounded.

"Hi," Carl repeated, as I pushed Denny closer towards him. "How old are you?"

It was a standard question primary school boys always asked each other so that they could work out where everyone stood at a time when everything was decided by age rather than skin and ability as it would be by the time they reached senior school.

It was also a question that Denny had to think very carefully about answering. His first response would have been to naturally give his real age, but in the circumstances that clearly wasn't going to work and he just managed to check himself in time to say "I'm eight."

"I'm ten," Carl instantly responded, his chest puffed out to the fact he wasn't the youngest anymore, before adding to it. "And Jon's eleven."

"I can tell him my own age," Jon nudged his brother in a playful way that quickly got out of hand, giving me the perfect chance to drop my bombshell while totally ignoring that Denny hadn't actually done anything.

"Don't you dare Denny, unless you want me to spank your bum again."

All three boys looked at me in surprise, before Carl turned to Denny and asked in the loudest possible whisper, "Does Beryle spank your bum when you're naughty?"

Denny nodded, which was enough for Carl, but not for Jon who, being nearer my age, decided to ask me directly. "You give him spankings?"

"Yes," I said matter-of-factly.

"How?"

"The usual way," I explained for turning to Denny and getting him to tell them, just to add to his humiliation.

Blushing nearly as red as the shoulder straps on his too small vest, Denny swallowed hard and said, "I take down my shorts and bed over his lap."

Carl nearly bounded off the sofa: "Really?"

"Sure," I confirmed but Jon, ever the doubter, needed more than that, so I offered to demonstrate which set Denny off just as I thought it might.

"Please not here. Can't we go upstairs."

"No chance," I shot back, "Either you let me do it here, or I'll make you do it, and then, do it again upstairs until you can't sit down for a week."

The latter threat, like nearly all my threats was totally empty of course, but that didn't stop Denny from reacting as if they were totally real. Mind you that didn't stop him from having an erection, which the little, tight shorts could do nothing to hide.

The brothers openly stared at the lump in the front of Denny's little boy shorts as he walked across the room to where I had seated myself on the other sofa across from them.

"Take off your clothes," I ordered, adding just in case I hadn't made myself clear, "Your shirt too."

Keeping his back to the brothers, Denny did as I told him pulling the too short t-shirt up over his head, and the pushing – well rolling – the little shorts down to his ankles.

When he'd done that I told him to get over my knees, and while he looked embarrassed about doing it Denny still climbed over my lap, just like a little boy would.

Taking my time I carefully arranged him until his bottom was just inside my right thigh, with his face nearly touching the carpet so that his rear was well up in the air. It was probably a bit uncomfortable for him, due to his erection but that was all part of it.

Once everything was ready, I looked up to see the brothers beaming back at me, as I started the lecture, while at the same time wrapping my left hand around his waist to make sure he wouldn't be able to react too much once I got going.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

There was no build up this time. NO teasing, no tempting. I just got right down to business.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Denny for his part was acting just as I knew he would. He was trying to act touch around the other boys. Pretending that it wasn't hurting but that wasn't going to last long.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

I alternated from right cheek to left cheek, while making sure my spanks over lapped to give them maximum effect.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

It must have been starting to really sting but then, but still Denny was refusing to react like I knew he could during a spanking.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Finally I got through to him and he gave first a little gasp, which was then followed by the same reaction each and every time I spanked him until the cries started to blend into each other.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

After only a few more blows he was actually crying compete with tears running down his face as he begged me to stop. Which I did. In my own good time.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Of course I was hitting him much harder than I had done before, but there was a reason for that, it was all part of the scenario for him to be punished in front of someone else, so I needed to make sure it both looked and felt real.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

The spanking continued until I had Denny kicking his legs and crying for mercy. It was only when that had happened that I actually stopped and told him he could get up at which point the brothers had gone from staring opened mouthed to actually laughing at what they were witnessing. Soon though they were going to be doing more than witnessing.

"Hey Jon," I suggested as Denny whimpered over my lap, "Do you want to spank him too."

"No way!" Denny protested but he was ignored like little kids always are.

"Tell you what, why don't I get Denny to do some corner time while I go and get something to help you out."

"What's that?" Carl asked before anyone else could.

I told him that they'd all see at once while sending Denny to the corner, still naked of course but now with a bright red bum, to stand in the corner and wait for whatever was going to happen next.

I didn't have to go far to get what I wanted, so I got to hear everything that went on next as although I'd told Denny what to do I'd said nothing to the brothers so they followed Denny to the corner to have a closer look at his now red bottom but it wasn't long before Carl noticed more.

"Wow look at his dick!" the little lad said, no doubt pointing.

"Yeah, small ain't it," his brother confirmed, "Ain't got no hair round it neither."

It was an odd thing to say about a boy they thought was younger than them, but then I guess Jon was around the age to be interested in the development of other boys something which Carl was clearly picking up from him.

"He ain't got no hair nowhere but on his head," Carl pointed out before adding, "His willy is bigger than mine though."

"Only cos it's standing up," Jon hushed whispered, in a voice that could have been heard in the next street and which I told as my cue to re-enter the room.

Sitting back on the sofa, I ordered Denny to come over knowing full well that all three of them would see the battered old slipper now sitting on the table.

"Can I use that, really?" Jon asked, and I nodded. He and Carl were very keen. Denny less so, but with his shorts still tangled around his ankles there wasn't anywhere he could go.

Carefully I instructed Jon how to sit well back on the sofa and to push his legs out and up to make a good place for another boy to lay across his lap to get a spanking. I then had, Denny get into place over his knees, and to be held in the correct fashion. Then Jon picked up the slipper, remaking as he did so "Wow this is going to hurt."

And so it did. The slipper coming down hard with a loud sound on Denny's bare bum.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

Even if he hadn't just watched me do the same, I think Jon would have swung as hard and as often as he did because, well he enjoyed it.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

Within a few blows, Denny went from saying nothing, to pleading to crying and then back to pleading again.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

I shouted the occasional instructing to ensure Jon didn't always spank on the same spot, but spread the blows around, so they were equally divided between both cheeks and to ensure that Denny got a good even spanking, just like he deserved.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

Denny's legs kicked he cried, he sobbed and behaved, in general just like a little kid getting spanked should.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

In the end though I had to stop Jon before he did any real damage but still he'd managed to get a good twenty odd swots in with that little slipper on Denny's bare rear, so that when he did stop Denny just continued to lay there sobbing for a minute or to.

Eventually Carl broke the silence by stating the somewhat obvious: "His bum is really red."

"That's how a naughty little boy's bottom is meant to look," I told them before sending Denny once more off to the corner to stand with his hands on his head until the brother's parents came to pick them up (I'd technically been babysitting them, although we never called it that, given Jon was little more than a year younger than me although rather less mature.)

The brothers had a lot of questions about what had gone on all of which I answered, if not entirely honestly as I couldn't give away Denny's real age of course, so my answers had to keep within the scope of our game. Still that did mean I could tell them all about how I was in charge of him and all the things I'd done that day as part of that, up to and including the spankings, naturally which, not surprisingly they found the most interesting. So interesting in fact, that I Denny was already thinking of other fantasies the two younger boys could help out with.

Chapter Six: Birthday

Dennis awoke slowly to the sound of my voice, even as I wished him a happy birthday on what was also a school holiday. Of course he had a right to be surprised by that given that it wasn't actually his birthday, but when he saw me standing over him, I guess he realised that I was up to something.

"You're nine today," I told the teenager, just to make sure he knew what I was up to, "and there's a lot of treats and presents waiting for you, but only if you are a good little boy, do you understand me."

"Yes," he said, but only after he'd peered around me to where his brother was still sleeping in the other bed.

"Good, there's a party later on, where you'll get your presents but before then I think we should put on your birthday decorations so hurry up and get changed out of your night things and come down to my room. Don't bother to put on any clothes though as I have it all sorted out for you once you get down there."

I left once I'd given that speech, half wondering if he'd actually comply with my instructions, especially the parts about walking through the house naked, which I'd never got him to do before. Still, I should have known better as sure enough he didn't have a stitch on when he made it down to my room half an hour later.

Wasting no time I told Denny to lie down on his front on my rug and to keep as still as possible as I didn't want to smudge what I was going to do.

He must have wondered what I was going to do, but he never did ask, which was a bit odd, but the I guess all part of his ideas about being dominated and such like. Being told what to do and just doing it without asking why.

I couldn't help but wonder what he thought I was doing, as it must have felt to him like I was tickling his back, while I sat astride his bare bum to start with and then, as I moved down his body, I ended up sitting on the backs of his knees so I could draw on his actual buttocks. Yet still he didn't ask what I was doing. Not even when I got up and told him to stay still while the ink dried.

Finally, when I told him to stand up, he did try to look over his shoulder to see what I'd done, but couldn't see. He then looked around for my mirror but I'd purposely covered that up which would leave him only the option I was about to give him.

"If you want to know what it says, you'll have to ask Robin."

He looked at me in a mixture of surprise and shock, but not fear or revulsion, as you may have expected from a normal fourteen year old boy. But then as I'd already discovered Dennis McKenzie wasn't your average fourteen year old boy.

Anyway, back up in the attic we found Denny's departure from the attic hadn't been as subtle as he'd thought, as Robin was now not only awake, but also out of bed and mostly dressed although he had yet to do up his shirt, or brush his hair.

Robin didn't act the least bit surprised to see his younger brother had been walking around the house naked, but then as he'd seen him in both a little prep school boy's uniform and then a footed sleeper with a nappy on underneath, I guess that probably seemed something like 'normal'. Still, any normality that was in the situation went right out of it, once Denny turned around and asked Robin to read what was on his back.

"Erm," Robin squinted slightly as he didn't have his glasses on, not that he'd need them as I'd made the writing as large as I could. "On your back it says, 'It's my birthday and I'm nine today'"

Now clearly Robin knew that wasn't true, but he let it pass to read the next line which clearly amused him. "Please give me a birthday spanking."

Facing away from his brother but towards me, Denny smiled, as this was the very fantasy that he'd asked me to do next. Or the basis of it anyway as he was going to find out that I'd added in quite a few other things that I knew, or thought, he would like. Meanwhile Robin got back to finishing what he was reading. "On each of your cheeks it says "Five spanks here!"

When Robin was done reading he still there, clearly waiting for someone to explain what was going on, so I told him. "It's a birthday tradition for people to share birthdays, by giving the birthday boy a little spanking. One spank for each year of his life, plus one extra for him to 'grow on'. So anyone, and everyone that Denny meets today, he has to ask to give him a birthday spanking." That was the bit Denny was expecting me to hear, this next bit he wasn't, "Starting with you Robin."

Denny stood there hesitating not able to believe that I would bring his brother into the fantasies we were playing out, but he also knew that if he called an end to it now, then he would never get to find out everything else that I'd planned for him, and seeing just how much he'd enjoyed everything else I'd done for him so far, I never doubted that he'd be able to resist.

"Please, Robin, can you give me a birthday spanking," Denny said, in his best polite boy voice, while standing naked in front of his big brother.

Robin didn't reply for a moment, just raised one eyebrow, but then he asked, "You really want me to." Which of course Denny did, although he pretended to be a little hesitant about it.

Shaking his head slightly, Robin sat down on the end of his bed, where he was soon joined by Denny, who draped himself over Robin's knees, with his bottom pushed up, without a second thought. Robin then did as he was asked, spanking his little brother five times on each buttock with no real force, but with enough energy to make Denny's buttocks both wobble and turn a slight pink.

That was all I'd planned to do in the attic at this stage, but Denny stuck to my plan better than I did and no sooner was he climbing off his brother's lap then he came over to me and asked me to give him a birthday spanking as well, which of course I was only too happy to do.

Sitting on the end of Denny's bed I had him climb over my lap, where I made sure his buttocks were aimed in Robin's general direction, before I gave my cousin five good hard slaps on each of his buttocks. Each one making a loud sound and a real sting, to show Robin how to do it, more than anything else.

We left after that returning to my room so I could get on with the rest of my plan which was to take the birthday boy down to meat his little friends in the play group again. This, when I told Denny, really surprised him, for the obvious reason that he was still naked, and all his clothes were upstairs. I however had the answer for that, but not before I'd teased him a little.

"Well it's your birthday I thought you could wear your birthday suit."

He smiled at my joked while, at the same time blushing, and getting a slight erection at the thought of being paraded naked around the classes of little boys and, perhaps even girls. That though, was the reason I decided against doing just that. Little kids might find someone else being naked as well worth a giggle, but if that someone had an erection it may cause more questions than we could answer. Plus get mum into all sorts of trouble so that couldn't happen. The problem was, I needed something that would cover up the front part of Denny's body but leave the back part open and exposed. Thankfully I had just the thing. A posing pouch.

"It's what doctors used in the old days for medical books and stuff," I told Denny knowing full well that he knew that already, as he'd no doubt seen them in those of Dad's case studies that included photographs of the boy's concerned. In those their modesty was nearly always covered by a piece of cloth over the groin, held on by a strap around the waist. So that's what I gave Denny to put on.

The idea of the garment was to cover up the privates while leaving everything else exposed, so for that reason that was little more to it than a tight elasticated pouch at the front which fitted over the privates. This at the top connected to a waist band that ran around the wearer's body. At the bottom, it connected to a thinner strap that went up between the legs, and buttocks to join up with the waist strap there. Everything was made of strong elastic to ensure it stayed in place and that nothing could escape from it once it was on.

It took Denny a few tried to get comfortable in the strap which wasn't surprising as the pouch itself was really quite tight and small, but then it had been designed for a ten year old, rather than someone of fourteen, which meant he had to push and shove his privates around a bit to get them all to go inside the small pouch. Still once they were, there was no way they were going to come out again and, as an extra bonus, he also wouldn't be able to get another erection.

Needless to say, Denny was still rather nervous as we went down the day centre that day, and he hadn't even realise that as it was a school holiday it wasn't just little pre-schoolers downstairs but some of their older brothers as well including Carl and Jon.

Naturally I couldn't walk into one of the classrooms with a nearly naked boy with instructions on his back to give him a spanking, so instead we set up shop in the room my mum likes to call the library as, not surprisingly, it's where she keeps all the kid's books. Normally this was off limits during class time, but if one of the boys finished his work early enough he would be given permission to go and get a book, bring it back to the classroom and read quietly.

So it was for the next hour or so, that Denny got his bum spanked but a near steady stream of young boys. I'd great each one at the door of the library, explaining the situation, and telling them not to tell anyone else, or else they'd be in Denny's place on their next birthday. I also said they didn't have to do anything if they didn't want to but not one of them refused the opportunity, to spank another boy's bare bum.

It all went really well and Denny's bum was getting a really nice shade of pink and no doubt tender, as although the little boys enjoyed the chance to spank him none of them were really all that strong, or even good at it. A few weren't even co-ordinated enough to do it properly, but that was about to change when Jon and Carl turned up.

The brothers, were the oldest to use the day care centre, and for that reason, often helped out, now and again ferrying the smaller ones around, which is what they were doing when the came across us that day. They, of course, were more than happy to give Denny a spanking, even more so when their two charges said they didn't want to do it. They were also rather good at it and had, I suspect been practising on each other, since the last time so that by the time they'd finished delivering forty whacks, Denny's bottom must have been ablaze.

"If you want a break," Jon said as they were leaving to take their little charges back to their classroom, "We could take the birthday boy with us to your next class."

Carl finished the lines I'd given them, "It's okay cos they'll only be one other boy there, and no teachers, so no one will see him."

I pretended to think about it, for a moment before agreeing to what had been my idea in the first place.

The brothers took Denny by each arm, before he could think too much about it, and led him out of the library and down the corridor which was now quiet once more. I followed, keeping a distance, before I could dart around via a shorter route, to take up my next position, in the room next to the one Denny was going to end up in and where Dirk was waiting.

Dirk was fourteen and a bit of a handful which is why he had a room to himself. It wasn't his fault as he'd had a knock on the head, the previous year that had left him without some of the social norms. No other school would take him but Mum did, as she found Dirk was perfectly alright if he was left on his own. It was just with other boys that he had problems as Denny was about to find out.

Standing outside Dirk's room, Jon knocked on it, waiting until he could hear the heavy booted footsteps of the teenager inside coming towards the door. Then, just as the handle started to turn, and the door open, Jon stuck his foot out while Carl gave Denny a shove that sent him crashing into the door and down to the ground.

"What the fuck do you want?" Dirk shouted as the two younger boys disappeared. Denny though didn't have that chance as Dirk had hold of his arm in a vice like grip.

"He wants a birthday spanking," I shouted out, to both inform Dirk of what to do and to tell Denny that I was there, as something of a comfort.

"Oh a spanking is it," Dirk said, a smile breaking out that showed off all the extensive metal work that covered his teeth. "I can do that, come in."

Dirk was the same age Denny but that was where the comparison stopped. He was both taller and stronger and clearly had the upper hand, as he pulled the nearly naked boy into his room and closed the door behind him.

Inside the room as rather bare but for the sofa Dirk apparently spent all his time sitting and/or laying on. This he now sat on, and without giving Denny any chance to escape, pulled the other boy across his lap, where at once he was greeted with the instructions of what to do written on the smooth skin of Denny's back. However before he got down to that, he had some ideas of what to do of his own, just like I'd thought he would.

Beginning with tracing the words I'd written on Denny's back, it wasn't long before Dirk's fingers found their way down to Denny's buttocks, and then down between his legs to have a really good feel of the pouch enclosing the other boys genitals at which point, in a slightly gasping breath, Denny had to remind him what he was meant to be doing.

"I'll spank you. I'll spank you good," Dirk informed him in a way not too dissimilar from how the baddy on the last movie he'd seen had spoken.

Dirk didn't turn out to be the best spanker. In fact, he wasn't even as good as some of the little kids, but he did have one advantage. He clearly wasn't going to stop at ten.

"It's says five on each!" gasped Denny but it was no use, as Dirk, quite rightly pointed out that he wasn't so good at maths.

Denny offered to count for him, which worked, Eventually, but not before Denny must have taken over fifty spanks on and around his buttocks. But his ordeal wasn't over then.

"There that's you spanked," Dirk said pulling Denny up so he was seated on his knee, like a rag doll. The rough cloth of his jeans no doubt doing little to help the soreness in Denny's rear, but that wasn't what he was going to be worried about in a moment. "Now you can do something for me."

With one hand holding the back of Denny's neck, Dirk used his other to snap the buttons on the fly of his jeans. Once that was done it was clear he wasn't wearing any underwear as his erection stuck straight out in the air.

"Spanking you made me feel good, so now you can make me feel better," he said, not making perfect sense, but then that's what getting knocked on the head does. Still what he wanted was fairly obvious especially when he took Denny's hand and placed it on his erection.

Denny looked more shell shocked than I'd ever seen him before. This was, all part of most of the scenarios that he'd read and shown me, but now he was sitting nearly naked, with a well spanked bum, on the lap of another teenager, touching his penis, he didn't look quite so keen on the idea of being forced to do things. Yet, all the same he wrapped his hand around Dirk's erection, and got down to work.

It didn't take long. Just a few strokes of Denny's closed hand up and down the bigger teenager's erection before, Dirk was crying out and Denny found his thighs being splattered with semen that wasn't his own.

***

After Denny's experience with Dirk, I thought it only fair that he be allowed his birthday presents now, so having collected him I took him to a little used room at the back of the day care centre, that mum used for these occasions.

The room was all fitted out with balloons, paper-chains and all the other sorts of things that little kids like a party, which made it all the more fitting when Denny arrived, that there, waiting for him, in matching party hats were the only guests at his party, Carl and Jon who blew him a salute, as he made his way through the circle of chairs to where the gifts I'd selected for him were all laid out on the central rug.

"Looks like he enjoyed his time with 'Dirty' Dirk!" Carl stage whispered to his brother, making them both giggle.

"Aren't you forgetting something," I told the slightly blushing Denny who still had tell tail white stains on his legs, pointing to his back and the message written there.

"But they already did," he protested, before changing his mind and standing in front of the brothers turned around so they could read, once more, what was written on his back.

"Bend over then, birthday boy," Jon told him standing up so that he would be able to get a good swing in at Denny's bottom once the teenager had clasped his ankles.

The slaps were delivered, hard but slow, with a nice little pause between each one to allow Denny to get the full feeling from all of them, in a way that I'd had to read about but which Jon had clearly worked out for himself.

Then when Jon was done Carl too over, repeating the entire ritual if without some of his brother patience. That said the results were just as good, especially on top of everything else that had already happened and which Carl couldn't help but notice, and comment on.

"You're right Jon, he likes having his bum spanked."

Jon didn't answer, although he did blush a bit confirming that the brothers had clearly spent more than a little time talking, and probably more, about what had happened before and what was going to happen this time. Not that they knew the half of it, or indeed what was in the presents I'd assumed for Denny's 'birthday'.

The first present was a big heavy one that I'd had some trouble finding a box big enough to put it in, and then I'd had to pack out the rest of the box with newspaper, so it didn't rattle too much and spoil the surprise.

The look on the faces of all three boys when Denny finally got the box open and pulled out the large wooden paddle with the holes drilled into it, was a picture. All of them knew exactly what it was, and could probably guess that it wouldn't be long before it was put to good use. And where that would be. Denny, who's bum was already red, quickly moved on.

The next few packages were all wrapped in the same paper and there was a reason for that as they all went together. I'd also numbered them so Denny would open them in the correct order. An order that would let him know what was going to happen long before the brothers worked it out. This, I thought would add to his humiliation, and it did. A lot.

The presents started out ordinarily enough, if somewhat oddly with a set of safety pins, followed by a tub of talcum powder, a bottle of baby lotion, and then the three items that gave it all away. A package of plain white nappies, a pair of plastic pants, and an oversized baby's dummy.

"Why are you giving him those, he's not a baby?" Carl asked, as if I'd planned it.

"He asked for them," I said simply, "Denny's wants to be treated like a baby."

"You mean he's going to wear nappies?"

"Yes he is, just as soon as he gets himself up onto the changing table."

Denny's head spun around noticing apparently for the first time, the changing table that was sitting in the corner of the room. It was, of course, all part of his humiliation fantasies for other people to know about his wearing nappies, but so far as he knew only Robin did, although in fact my parents did as well, but now two little boys would also be in on the secret and not only that they were going to get to watch him put one on.

Blushing all the way, so that his face was every bit as red as his read, Denny walked over to the changing table and climbed up on top of it with is legs hanging down. However that is as much as I let him do himself before I took charge of the situation.

Denny was, not surprisingly somewhat bigger than the usual toddlers that laid on the changing table, but it still came as a surprise to him when I moved in to grab his ankles from where they were hanging down in front of the table and pull them up over his head. He then got another surprise when I pulled the strap off him leaving him totally naked.

"Can you give me a hand boys," I called to the brothers telling them to take hold of each of Denny's ankles, from behind his head. This ensured that not only was Denny naked but that he was on total and full display, with no secrets at all, having his nappy changed.

Naturally having been bought up like I was around a day nursery I'd changed more than a few nappies in my time so I knew exactly what to do. Starting with a washcloth with soap water I acted as if I'd just removed a nappy from teenage cousin, and cleaned around his thighs, and hairless genitals. In the process I cupped his small testicles, to wash them, and then his penis. Repeating what I'd done in the bathroom during the last time I'd washed him. Peeling back the foreskin to expose the pink mushroom tip, so I could watch that. Naturally it went stiff.

Once everything was cleaned, it was time for the powdering, at which stage I decided to job share and offered the job to Carl.

The ten year old actually squealed in delight at his change to rub the powder in, putting more than was strictly needed all over Denny's lower body and, on my insistence between the buttocks too. His little fingers going everywhere, seemingly at once, until it was clear Denny was about to make the same mess over himself that 'Dirty' Dirk had done over him earlier. That though I couldn't allow to happen as it nine year old boys didn't do that on their birthday so I took over once more.

The nappy was slipped underneath Denny's raised rear, it's corners neatly pulled up around his waist and groin, where I made short work of pinning them in place, before covering the entire thing in the thick white plastic pants with the tight elastic around the waist and both leg openings.

"What about this?" Jon asked, holding up the dummy.

"That's baby's dummy," I explained although it was obvious from the big blue base with the ring set into it. However what wasn't obvious was that it was a special device used to make sure older children didn't just spit it out, while also keeping them quiet. That's why the bulb that went into the mouth was larger than usual, and why the ring on the front could be turned around as it inflated the bulb up so it filled the mouth completely, trapping itself behind the teeth to prevent removal, until the ring was turned back and the bulb deflated again.

Denny knew nothing about any of that, of course, just thinking it was like the other dummy he'd had, until that is, I twisted the ring and he found himself silenced. Naturally his first instinct was to try and pull it out again, but I'd detached the ring, so no amount of pulling would actually do that.

I gave Denny a few minutes to get used to everything before returning to his remaining presents which were, pretty much everything a little toddler boy would need including a solid plastic bib, a big floppy sun hat, a sipping cup, a pair of mittens, and a onesie, that was slightly too small to fit over the bulky cloth nappies and plastic pants he had on now, but which would go over the more regular pull ups he'd previously only worn at night.

I'd also wrapped up the footed sleeper Denny was already using but of course the brothers didn't know that so they got to laugh about it while just imagining what they thought a nine year old would look like in one, let alone an actual fourteen year old. But maybe one day they would.

The End

© U. N. Known Writer

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