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Once again I'm very sorry to hear of Susan's passing. Some weeks ago before Susan passed away and after the last site update I sent in an article about dummy discipline, which for obvious reasons did not get published. So in the spirit of keeping the site running as normal I shall submit it again. I don't often see all that many letters on the website about dummy discipline i.e. nappies being used as a form of control over boys. So I thought I might contribute recount to you some more of my dummy discipline type experiences. I sent a story in over a year ago about how I was punished at infants school when I was very naughty one time, by being put into a baby outfit which the teachers kept for particularly naughty children. Anyway I thought this time I might write about some of my bed wetting related nappy experiences. I suppose I should start by saying that I was an on off bed wetter from when I can remember up until about half way through my thirteenth year. I say an on off bed wetter because I would go long periods, some times for months, without wetting the bed and then suddenly start again. I don't know how unusual it was for a boy to still be wetting the bed at age of thirteen but certainly at the time I didn't know of any other boys at my school that did. However since it wasn't the sort of thing us boys would dare admit to or talk about at that age anyway, it probably didn't mean that there weren't any other boys my age I knew that were also bed wetting. Being a bed wetter did make things rather awkward for me because when I was going through a bed wetting period it meant that I couldn't do things like sleep over at friend's houses or go on overnight school trips etc. At home my mother would rub me down with baby lotion and powder me with talc and put me into a disposable nappy each night before bed, when I was going through a bedwetting phase. So obviously having an overnight stay at a friends house would have been impossible without letting on to them that I was a bed wetter, which of course was something I didn't want to happen. Being a bed wetter didn't always stop me from going on over night trips however. I remember once when I was eight years old going on an overnight Cub Scout camp. All my friends and I went and we had a fun day as we put up our tents in a half circle around the main camp fire. On the other side a few of the scout leaders had their tents and off to one side was a tent for our camp nurse. We did all the usual Cub Scout things that night and had a great time singing songs and toasting marshmallows on the fire. Then when it was nearly time for bed we all got into our tents and into our pyjamas ready for bed. There were three of us to a tent and it was quite cosy in our sleeping bags. However before I was about to bed down for the night our cub pack's Akela popped her head in to get me out to go and see the nurse. She was a nice young girl in her late teens and she took me over to the nurse's tent where there was already another boy waiting outside. Once there she then waited outside with me. The other boy who was waiting was older than me and was probably about ten years old. We all stood there in silence outside the tent until another older boy who was already being seen to came out of the tent, and the nurse called the next boy in. When the boy went in I could hear the nurse asking him to remove his pajama bottoms and about a minute or so later I could hear the distinctive noise of the fastening tapes of a disposable nappy being pulled. Shortly afterwards the boy came out looking a little red faced and his pajama bottoms looking a little more bulky than they did before. Next it was my turn and my Akela stayed outside as I went in the tent. The nurse was a plump old lady and was the wife of one of the main scout leaders; she also was a member of the St Johns Ambulance brigade, so she ended up playing nurse to us when ever we went on camp. She was a nice lady and greeted me with a jolly hello when I went in the tent. She explained that because my mother had said I was a bed wetter that I would have to be put into a nappy for the night in case of any accidents. She then pulled down my pajama bottoms, lifted my pajama top up to my chest and then laid me down on a little cot bed she had in the tent. She made me feel wonderfully calm and at ease, reassuring me as she rubbed in some baby lotion and talc around my little boys private areas. Next she took a disposable nappy from a small pile opened it up and slid it under me. I remember it being such a lovely cosy feeling as she pulled up the sides and snugly fastened me in, each ripping sound of the fastening tapes securing me tighter and snugger into the nappy each time. After my nappy was on she pulled my pajama bottoms back on, stood me up and tucked my pajama top into the waist band of the bottoms. She then gave me a kiss on the cheek and a little hug and sent me back out the tent. I must have been grinning like a Cheshire cat when I walked out of that tent. My Akela gave me a wonderfully adoring smile when I came out and she playfully ruffled my hair and gave me a pat on the bottom over my thick nappy and led me back to my tent. Far from feeling anxious or embarrassed about being put in a nappy, I felt all lovely and snug and secure, and my special treatment made me feel cared for rather than singled out. I actually felt quite privileged compared to the other boys as I walked back to my tent in my snug bulky nappy. None of the other boys noticed the nappy and they didn't even bother to ask why I'd been to see the nurse. The next morning my Akela popped her head in our tent whilst we were still tucked up in our sleeping bags to take me to see the nurse again. Once more I went in the tent and this time the nurse removed my nappy and wiped me down with some baby wipes. After that she held out a pair of underpants in front of me and said "These are yours I believe?" and there in front of me she held my favorite pair of underpants. They were my Incredible Hulk nylon y-fronts that had a green trim and a picture of the Hulk printed over the seat of the underpants. Obviously my mother must have given them to her when sorting out my overnight arrangements. The lovely nurse held out my underpants for me to step into and pulled them up nice and snug, and then helped me back into my pajama bottoms. Of course I was overjoyed to have my favorite underpants on and I couldn't wait to get back to the tent so that I could slip out of my pyjamas and show off my wonderful Incredible Hulk y-fronts to the other boys. So being a bed wetter and having to be put into nappies wasn't always an embarrassing and humiliating experience. In fact I'd say that up until about the age of ten I rather liked being put in nappies. Being rubbed down with lotion and talc and put into a nappy, and then being given a lovely kiss and a cuddle before being tucked in actually made me feel a much loved and secure little boy. Of course as I got older it was a different story and I began to feel resentful and humiliated at being still treated like a baby at bed times. I think as I got older my mother some times used nappies to keep me under control. If I started wanting to stay up too late in the evenings past my usual bedtime my mother would employ the nappy as a means of keeping me in bed. As I wouldn't want to go back down stairs and watch TV with the rest of the family once I was put in a nappy, as it felt too humiliating to be seen in one by my older brother and father. Once when I was thirteen I was off school for a week with the flu and although I felt bunged up and a bit shivery I still felt quite active. However to keep me settled down my mother kept me in nappies all through the day as well as at nights for the whole week I was off ill. When my mother invited her friends round for coffee they didn't seem to find it the least bit unusual to see a thirteen year old boy playing on the living room floor in front of the fire, dressed in little more than a nappy, plastic pants, vest and socks. In fact when rather embarrassingly I needed a nappy change, there was no shortage of my mum's friends volunteering to do it. Two of my mum's friends in the end, ended up giving me a nappy change on the living room floor in front of everybody whilst my mum sat drinking coffee with the rest of her friends. An incident I may go into more detail of in another letter. I wasn't actually the only bed wetting boy my age that I knew, because when I was twelve my mother found out at our church from another mother that her son who was also my age was a bed wetter too. Although he was the same age as me and we attended the same local church he actually went to a different school as me, so I only really knew him a little from our Sunday school classes. Finding out we both wet the bed my mother immediately arranged for me to go for a sleep over at his house, and I ended up going to sleepovers at his house on numerous occasions after that. And due to his strict mother and his precocious ten year old sister and her friends most of those occasions ended up being rather humiliating. However in the interests of keeping the length of this letter down I shall write about some those occasions in separate letters.  Before I go I thought I'd share this picture with you. It's an advert for boys "Staydry Panties" incontinence pants for bed wetter's. I have no idea what the date for it is but I'd guess either the fifties or sixties. You'll note that they are actually called "panties" and not underpants, despite the fact that they are for boys. Indeed the pair the boy is wearing in the picture does look very sissy and panty like with its ribbon tape ties, tied into sweet sissy little bows. The boy advertising the panties in the picture looks about twelve to thirteen and you'll note the panties come with a free booklet "Bedwetting and the Older Child". So maybe my bedwetting at the age of thirteen wasn't so unusual after all. I find some of the text in the advert to be rather comical too, especially the text in one of the black boxes which reads, "Join the many thousands of grateful mothers all over the country who have been helped to new found joy by Staydry" Well despite the boy in the advert looking happy enough I'm not sure I would have found those any less humiliating to wear than normal nappies. Those panties certainly look very sissy for a boy to be wearing, and I'll bet it took a rather strict and dominant mother to put her son into a pair of those. However I sure that once securely fastened into his "panties" that any boy would quickly become quite subdued. A far cry from those Goodnights sleep shorts I've seen advertised on TV recently. I'm quite sure that if Goodnights made some sissy bedwetting "panties" with pretty little bows and frills just for boys, that mums would snap them up in no time at all. Even if their boys didn't wet the bed. As I think most mummies would love to see their little boys look and act all sweet and sissy again just like they did when they were little babies. Regards, Charlie Thank you for your charming letter Charlie. I'm sure you do still love to feel the secure embrace of nappies. Strong women should consider this a definite disciplinary tool for their males. Auntie Helga |