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Chapter 3. A Day at Nanna's Jane and Baby Daphne soon arrived at Nanna's house in the upmarket part of town. A short paved circular driveway led to the front door of an imposing two-storey residence which breathed money and influence. It was a rambling six-bedroom home with three bathrooms, two separate entertaining areas, and a vast back yard. David spied Simon's black BMW parked in the drive and immediately started to panic. "Oh no! No! Is Thimon here, Mummy?" "The whole family is here today, darling!" Jane gaily replied, as though the news would thrill him. "Come along, baby!" She opened the passenger door and unbuckled him to help him clamber out. This might have been David's last chance to escape. He could have balked and refused to go in the house, but when Mummy held out her hand to help him climb down, he snatched it like a frightened child. Jane had been a little worried he might resist, and she was glad when her mother threw open the front door to greet them. "Here they are!" Helen called behind her into the hall. She hurried out to greet them, pausing on the flagstone footpath because of towering her high heels. Helen stood at five-foot eight in her bare feet, two inches taller than her daughter Jane. Her hair was the same tawny-blonde shade, although cut in a shorter, more manageable bob, and she had a similar attractive heart-shaped face. Her outfit this morning consisted of an A-line mid- thigh skirt in grey cotton and a blue silk, button-front blouse, with a simple navy cardigan draped over her shoulders. She was a heavier, more buxom version of her youngest daughter, and even though David knew she was approaching fifty, her flawless complexion made her look closer to the right side of forty. Helen was wearing black patent court shoes like her daughter, with two-inch platform soles and scary six-inch stiletto heels. She liked the way the added height advantage intimidated her sissy son-in-law. "Hello girls!" she cried in greeting. "Come inside, you two!" Helen grinned at David's girly outfit and stepped back inside the house to wait for them. David was swept along by events as Jane thrust his baby things into his arms. Cowering beside the car, he didn't dare run away, but he didn't want to enter the house, either. The car door slammed closed behind him and the central locking clunked with chilling finality. He was rooted to the spot for a moment, but the driveway was short and this was a busy part of town. He heard a bus roaring along the road behind him as Jane gripped his free hand again. He would be seen in all his babyishness by a bus full of strangers! He was dragged towards the house in his familiar wide-legged waddle, clutching his dolly and bright pink changing bag to his breast with his other hand like a condemned man, and Jane pushed him ahead of her through the front door into the hall. "Hello Daphne," Helen purred to him in greeting, then she lowered her face slightly towards his. He remembered to spit out his dum-dums, drop a quick curtsey to Nanna and give her a moist peck on the cheek before passing. Despite the fact that she leaned down to greet him, he had to stand on tippie-toes to buss her powdered face. He felt so tiny and useless, although the servile act got the humiliating dummy teat out his mouth for the briefest of moments. "Here baby, let Nanna help you," Helen crooned. "Stand still for Nanna." Helen busied herself taking off his pink anorak. Seeing her baby was in safe hands, Jane returned to the car to fetch the rest of Daphne's baby things. David had become so accustomed to being dressed and undressed, he no longer even attempted to undo his own buttons - or in this case, the little pink plastic toggles of his girlish jacket. He always stood quietly and very childishly while a grown-up helped him undress. Nanna stood back and admired his new dress and his gaily embroidered bib. "Aww! 'Sweetie-pie'!" she read aloud. "How cute! My, my! That's a beautiful frock, Daphne!" she praised him. "And I love your baby-pink Maryjanes. Are they new? So cute!" Helen chuckled, while straightening out the multiple pleats of his satin frock over the frothy petticoats. She reached down and patted the drooping crotch of his pink plastic baby panties, clearly visible beneath the too-short hem. "No frilly rumba panties today, darling?" Helen quizzed the humiliated little sissy. "Just translucent plastic panties? Oh well. I guess that way, everyone can see when you've wet your nappy. I suppose Mummy wants to make sure the whole family knows you really need your diapers. Let me fix your sash, sweetie." He had to stand perfectly still while his mother-in-law retied his frock's pink satin sash at the back in a fresh floppy bow. Helen then popped his dummy teat back in his mouth - after examining the little pink hearts on the wide white plastic guard and cooing, "How sweet! Show Nanna how you sucky-suck your dum-dums, baby." When he shame- facedly obeyed, drooling copiously as required, she beamed in approval. "Good girl! Remember Daphne, the best way to behave for us is to act like the proper little baby girl you know you really are, deep down. Just be your true baby self, sweetie," she encouraged him with a conspiratorial wink. "Things will work out much better for you that way. Really, I promise. Don't you want everyone to see how cute you look?" "Not weally, Nanna." David tried to explain in a high-pitched whisper to Helen that Mummy had made him cum in his nappy twice this morning, and he was in no mood to act the sissy. How could he meet Simon dressed like this? Helen simply motioned him to be quiet when Jane strode back into the hall, carrying the big baby changing bag and wheeling the packed doll's pram ahead of her. Right on cue, Jessica and Zo? came bounding into the hall, with all the bounce and excitement of excited preschoolers, shouting "Hello!" to their favourite Aunty Jane. It was Zo? who stopped first when she spied David in his toddler frock and nappies. With all the innocence of a brash three-year-old, she pointed at his exposed panty crotch and squealed, "Look! Uncle David is wearing a nappy! Why is he wearing a nappy? Why?" Helen began the previously agreed-upon explanation by talking about bed- wetting, when Jane chipped in; "My little one needs nappies because she never remembers to ask for the toilet - nor even to use her potty, Zo?! Not like a clever big girl, like you! So we have to keep her in nappies all the time, otherwise she would wet her pants and the carpet and the furniture." Children can always ask the best questions. Zo? stated proudly, "I can use a toilet, I don't need a baby's potty. Why won't he use the toilet? Does he still wet the bed? I don't! I can sleep right through without wetting now. Can't I, Nanna?" "Yes darling," Helen crooned, smiling fondly at her youngest granddaughter. Jane grinned at Zo? and picked her up, cradling the intrigued child in her arms to make her face the same height as David's flushed features. "Baby Daphne has been very naughty!" Jane explained. "She always forgets to ask me for the potty when she needs to go. So we have to keep her in nappies all the time, don't we? Like a little baby. And yes, she does wet the bed at night. Every night! And," she half-whispered in Zo?'s ear, "she won't even ask for the potty when she needs to do poo-poos. Isn't that naughty?" The astonished little girl stared at David's blushing red cheeks, shaking her head in disbelief. Zo? giggled when Jane added, "If you smell she's messy, tell Nanna or me right away and we'll change her nappy. Okay, Zo?? You'll do that for me, won't you?" Zo? nodded but quickly moved to the next question, pointing inquisitively at David's flounced frock. "Why do you keep calling him 'her'? Why is he wearing a funny dress, Aunty Jane? Why has he got bunches and ribbons in his hair? He looks like a girl!" She started to giggle. "Uncle David, you've got an Alice Band and bunches! You look silly!" David looked to Jane in desperation. Any hope that his smart new dress might somehow make him more acceptable as a sissy baby evaporated under Zo?'s barrage of taunting questions. Jane offered no support and merely gave him a patronising smile, with mocking laughter in her wide blue eyes. He looked pleadingly at Nanna as though she might halt the torment, but she ignored him and merely sniggered at Zo?'s endless questions. Jane finally answered for him. "Well, it's a proper baby dress, not a grown-up dress for a real girl. As she insists on behaving like a sissy baby, I thought I would make her dress like one. This baby dress makes her look more like a little baby girl. Don't you think so, Zo?? And it's much easier to change her wet and dirty nappies when we need to. Also," she almost whispered, "she really likes wearing pretty dresses!" "Why?" Zo? demanded. Her wide-eyed big sister stood beside her staring at the effeminate sissy baby with her mouth gaping open. Jane laughed; "Why? Why? Why? That's all you ever ask, Zo?! Baby Daphne has always wanted to dress like this! Haven't you, sweetie? But until a few months ago, she never once told me. She kept it a nasty secret from her Mummy - but when I finally found out, I said she could dress like a toddler girl - if that's what she really wanted to do - but only if she did it all the time! You don't keep nasty secrets from your Mummy and Daddy, do you Zo??" The little girl shook her head with a sober expression and Jane continued, "And do you know what else? She told me she was embarrassed when we called her David while she was wearing her pretty baby frocks, and instead she asked us to call her 'Baby Daphne' all the time! So that's what we do now. Your Uncle David is now your little cousin Baby Daphne." David's face was turning redder and redder with every fresh revelation in front of the two small girls. He was also aware that his need to wee was growing stronger. His resolve to hold on till a quiet moment when he was alone - so he could pretend he was standing at a urinal or something - remained with him. He couldn't let go now; not right in front of everybody! He concentrated for a few moments, clenching unfamiliar muscles, and the urge seemed to fade. Jane seemed prepared to mock him in front of everyone, content to reveal that he'd always wanted to wear nappies and baby frocks. She was so beautiful and he adored her sexy body - but why did she tease him unmercifully like this? It was unbearable! The change in his feelings towards Jane as their outward relationship moved from wife to strict Mummy (or discipline mistress) had been so subtle, he hadn't realised it was happening. He worshiped Jane far more now than he had ever done as her 'husband.' He looked at her with longing pleading glances, silently begging her to stop. But Zo? was in full flow. "He's got a dummy as well!" She turned to her big sister and cried, "Look, Jessica! Look! You can see drool dribbling down his face!" Sounding all important, she proudly announced, "I don't have a dummy any more. Mummy says only silly babies suck dummies! Why do you let him have a dummy, Aunty Jane?" Jane asked David, "Well baby? Why do you have a dummy, Baby Daphne?" With an innocent grin plastered across her beautiful painted face, she insisted, "Tell your niece - I mean, tell your cousin why you have a dum- dums, sweetheart." Jane and Emma in particular, had rehearsed him on how to answer such questions. He knew carrots and sticks were at stake. David didn't want to admit the truth and he chewed on the soothing rubber teat in his mouth instead. He didn't want to respond. Must he reply? Could he say nothing and get away with it? The prolonged silence grew painful. Jane, Nanna, Zo? and Jessica stood patiently waiting for his answer. Jane raised one perfectly-arched eyebrow in warning when David remained silent. "Well, baby girl?" She insisted, frowning severely. David's will to resist crumbled and he squeaked to Zo?, "I weally like thucking my dummy. I need my dum-dumth, don't I, Mummy?" Her looked to her and Nanna for support, but the watching women waited expectantly and he added, "I cwy if I don't haff a dum-dumth." Jane looked down at him with an approving smile, encouraging his full confession. "I want to be a weal baba all the time. Don't I, Mummy?" She nodded encouragingly and he babbled, "Tho I haff to haff a dum-dumth all the time, wike a weal bubba." He felt ridiculous talking like this in front of the little girls, and he noticed Zo?'s big blue eyes were like saucers as she finally fell silent. He had grown so used to sucking a dummy at night and during the day, he often sucked it absentmindedly, enjoying the comfort a full mouth naturally gives. But that was in private. However Mummy had made a point of standing him in front of a full-length mirror for a few minutes every day, and teasing him about how ridiculous he looked with his dummy in his mouth - especially when he had to talk with it in. Jane reminded him how infantile and babyish he looked sucking his dum-dums, and how his dummy-sucking shamed him more than even the nappies and baby dresses he loved to wear. She liked to say that the dummy in his mouth completely undermined his masculinity. It was the obvious facial symbol that reduced him to simpering babyhood. She taunted him by telling him his words and spoken thoughts and needs became worthless when they came from a mouth crammed full of dummy teat - especially when he constantly dribbled like a teething infant. All this had made him very self-conscious indeed about using his dummy, and this emotion was enhanced on days like today after he had cum in his nappies. More particularly, when his shameful baby status was revealed to others for the first time. Since Mummy and Nanny insisted he always dibble all the time, it had become an unconscious habit. Most of the time he didn't even realise he was drooling. He constantly had a wet dribble bib. This wasn't too shaming at home, but in front of strangers, (so far only in private, not yet in public,) his drooling became a monumental source of embarrassment. Despite encouraging him to drool, he still wanted his dummy - but at the same time he was acutely conscious of the shame of being a grown man with this ridiculous oversized infant pacifier stuffed in the centre of his face. "Gosh Daphne! You even sound like a baby girl!" Jessica cried, then she covered her smile with her tiny hand. Unusually for a girl, she had been slow to potty-train. Jessie had wet occasionally at night and still needed nappies for bed till well past the age of four. The troubles of being slow to potty-train had left her sympathetic to anyone who was a bit of a wetter. Sometimes in kindergarten, when one or another of the small boys had wet his pants and was being teased by the other children, Jessica had more empathy than most, often rushing to protect the poor child. She saw something of a kindred spirit in David, with his bulging nappies and obvious unease at having his shameful secret out in the open. She sensed his desire to run away and hide from them, to escape this humiliating public exposure. She felt a little protective of him and although he looked strange in his too-short dress, it was very pretty and somehow suited him. Jessica smile turned sympathetic and she told David, "You really look pretty in that dress, Baby Daphne. You shouldn't mind being in nappies, if you can't help it." "Oh my God, look at you!" His sister-in-law Sheila shrieked as she walked into the hall in her clinging white knit dress. The cackling woman with the honey-blonde hair was similar in build and features to Jane, but not as beautiful. David thought Sheila was attractive in her own way. He once told Jane, "Wherever she is, Shelia is usually the prettiest girl in the room - until you walk in." Jane couldn't hide her smug smile at his backhanded compliment. Sheila was four inches taller than her, not quite as clever, and much more down-to-earth. She was big-bosomed and wide at the hips like her sister and mother, although the thirty-year-old was carrying a few extra pounds around the bust and bum after having two babies. Even though her waistline had thickened slightly, her figure still looked magnificent! Sheila was quite happy to be a stay-at-home mum and look after her children and the beautiful home of her successful husband. Sheila had been surprised by Jane's choice of husband, especially as her kid sister was taller than David and she outweighed him by a couple of kilos. Despite his pretty face - or perhaps because of it, she'd always suspected he had a weak side to his character. Like the rest of the women in her family, Sheila was confident and attractive, but more outspoken. She had been a great sportswoman who had played tennis for her college, and even now she was a near scratch golfer. Sheila had expressed some doubts about letting her children see David while he was dressed as a baby girl, but Simon had assured her it would be a good experience for them. Simon had also mischievously reminded her how she used to often complain after David had been ogling her legs and bum, after he and Jane visited. It was Simon who suggested that she dress rather provocatively for the day. She had therefore dressed in a very short, tight-fitting, white wool mini-dress she knew Simon favoured, as it showed off her voluptuous curves and long muscular legs to great advantage. Under it she wore her favourite panties and bra, a matching set made from luxurious white satin. She knew her husband liked to caress her feminine curves through the slinky material, and she enjoyed his attention. A pair of elegant white strappy sandals with slender four-inch heels completed her ensemble, as it was too warm to bother with pantyhose or stockings. Seeing David in the flesh for the first time in his frilly baby clothes, with his hair styled in floppy bunches, heavily diapered and with the huge dummy bobbing in his mouth above a wet dribble bib, standing haplessly in the hall and quite unable to do any ogling - Sheila was stunned! Her daughters seemed unperturbed by his effeminate baby outfit, which reassured her. But the sight was so odd, his stance and posture so submissive - it positively invited her to tease and humiliate the cringing sissy. Sheila couldn't stop herself from sashaying flirtatiously as she moved very close to him, till he was almost overwhelmed by her buxom presence. She leaned into him as she examined David's outfit like a concerned parent, her massive breasts almost brushing against his upturned face. Sheila slowly reached behind him and ran her hands over the bulging seat of his plastic panties. She firmly patted his padded bum, as if assessing the contents, then she pulled aside one tight leg elastic between his splayed thighs, probing his nappy crotch with one finger. "Hmph," she grunted. "He's damp - but not too wet." His dummy-muffled moan of embarrassment was almost too quiet to hear. Her hands wandered freely over the lavish frills as she inspected his dress and petticoats, and she asked Jane, "Where did you buy your sissy baby such cute baby clothes? Especially those extra-large plastic panties?" All the while she grinned down at him with a cruel mocking expression. Jane had another surprise for David, who had been distracted by Sheila's intimate appraisal and unwelcome familiarity. His tummy gurgled and he felt a weird-flip-flop sensation in his bowels - harbingers of an imminent bowel movement. He clenched his anus, but the connections between brain and muscle had atrophied somewhat through months of disuse. His feelings shifted from shame to a sense of mounting panic; a sensation that he hadn't felt for months. Not since the day about a year ago, when Jane had nearly caught him playing with himself in his wet nappies, when she returned home unexpectedly from a trip. He remembered that feeling now. "Oh I didn't buy those cute wetproof panties, Sheila!" Jane gaily replied. "Those big pink baby panties were part of the huge collection of my sissy's baby things I found she'd hidden away - along with the petticoat she has on now, and her frilly socks. She ordered this beautiful satin toddler frock and her matching bib a few months ago, and they were delivered just the other day. She bought them online, like most of her baby stuff. Those cute pink patent Maryjanes, I bought for my Baby Daphne, along with a few new outfits and dozens of super-thick cloth nappies. We have a fabulous collection of gorgeous baby clothes for my precious little girl now." Jane tilted her head to peer beneath the cringing red-faced sissy's bouncing petties. "I think that cloth nappy she's wearing is one of her old ones as well. By the way, we always make sure she wears a disposable diaper under the terry nappy, for extra protection. Baby Daphne told me she feels really safe and secure in her double nappies. With that combination, leaks are almost non-existent. My baby assures me it is more comfortable when she is wet to be in a disposable than in a full terry nappy. The main thing is; it is so much easier to handle nappy-changes when she messes herself - as Baby Daphne does every day. She owned a dozen cloth nappies and she went through tons of disposables before I found out what she was up to, as she often liked to wet and soil herself while I was away on business trips. So you see? I dress her up and treat my sissy baby girl exactly the way she wants!" "You mean you have to change his - I mean, her messy nappies?" Sheila questioned in stunned disbelief, staring at David aghast. "Oh my God! That's gross!" "Well, you changed your kids' dirty nappies, didn't you?" Jane replied with an easy smile and a careless shrug of her shoulders. "I don't see much difference. They're all just our babies." Sheila sniggered at her sister's glib response and then smiled condescendingly at the big sissy baby. He looked like he was about to die from embarrassment. She moved to wipe his spittle-wet chin with the bottom of his dribble bib. As her hands rose to his face, her generous breasts brushed against his forehead, she was standing so close to the cowering child. He stumbled away from her in panic. Sheila smiled wolfishly and stepped back slightly, but David felt no better. He heard and felt a twisting squiggle deep in his guts. The panic attack was developing slowly but relentlessly. He hated the fact that he had to soil himself everyday. It was a disgusting thing for an adult to have to do. The smell, the mess - and worst of all, the humiliating clean-up afterwards when his nappy was changed, was a horrid experience. Every time he had to lie back on the changing table with his hands clutching the backs of his knees tightly to his chest, his filthy bottom and bits and pieces as they were often called, and his stinky mess totally exposed and smelly, he felt so ashamed. Then Mummy or Nanny or even someone else would have to deal with his disgusting mess, reinforcing his infantile position and increasing his dependence on the women who cared for him. They never failed to tease him during his messy nappy changes. And yet despite himself; as he lay there in that extremely humiliating position, especially when Jane changed him, he also felt so looked-after, so safe, so helpless - so deliciously dependent on someone he loved. He didn't know why, but Jane seemed to delight in telling her friends about his disgusting soiling habits. She usually never left any detail untold, as she just had with Sheila and Zo?. Sheila's presence and the frank discussion about his messy nappy changes continued to make him feel more awkward and ashamed. This was partly because Jane had, over the months, made changing his dirty nappies a far more shameful experience for him than it need ever have been. He remembered that first weekend when he had waddled into their lounge room at home with a freshly-soiled nappy, red-faced with shame at this new humiliation. Cringing in embarrassment, he had hesitantly informed his Mummy that he needed changing. Jane had simply ordered him to stand in the naughty corner with his punishment dummy in his mouth, using that confident haughty tone which brooked no argument. "Go on!" she commanded frostily, pointing to the hallway. "In the naughty corner with you! Quick-sticks! Or Mummy will get the cane!" Too embarrassed and ashamed by his smelly condition to argue, he meekly complied. He squatted in the corner and picked up his punishment dummy from where it had been lying on the floor. He almost soiled himself again in the act, and he clenched his bum hole in a desperate effort to avoid embarrassing himself even further in front of Jane, who was standing right behind him. He slid the satin ribbon loop up the shiny pole to chest level, wiped the carpet fluff off the amber rubber teat with his bib, then moved it up to his mouth. Jane waited until she could hear him noisily sucking on his dum-dums before lecturing him on how to act like a proper baby girl. "Babies don't know or care when they are dirty or wet! Do they, Baby Daphne?" she scolded him as he loudly slurped on the fat rubber teat. "Real babies don't ask to be changed! Do they? No! They have to wait till Mummy finds out! Don't they? And so will you!" She gave him a crisp swat across the seat, her palm loud on the stretched plastic panties, and David shivered as his mushy waste was mashed all over his bottom. She ignored his dummy-muffle moan and snapped, "Now you stay there in the naughty corner, little girl - and don't you dare move!" Jane marched off in a huff and left him alone in the corner - which was probably just as well. He hadn't had a bowel movement in two days, and there was more to come out. He found himself squatting slightly and spreading his knees wider, pushing and grunting like a real baby trying to soil her nappy. He had to squat and bear down two more times before he was certain his bowels were empty. The seat of his nappy bulged with the extra load. After twenty or so minutes of miserable corner-time, where he could smell himself and all the while the stinky mess in his nappy grew colder and more uncomfortable, he was allowed out. Jane did absolutely nothing about his dirty wet nappy. Eventually he asked again. Stupid. Jane had pointed to the hallway and brusquely ordered him into the naughty corner again. He hesitated and pleaded, "But Mummy-" To which she coldly replied, "That's forty minutes in the naughty corner now! Do you want to add another twenty, Baby Daphne?" David abruptly realised that when you have soiled yourself, are dressed in a baby frock, desperate for a nappy change, and are standing in front of a very determined wife who is treating you like the silly sissy baby you truly are - you have no bargaining chips. You have to do as you are told! He shook his head and returned to the punishment corner for what seemed like an eternity, and he could only think about the shameful stinky mess hardening uncomfortably between his thighs as he sucked earnestly on the huge dummy teat for comfort. The disadvantages of not being allowed to ask for a nappy change didn't dawn on him at first. But a few days later - late one morning, when he was hoping Jane would notice his desperate need for a change, she suddenly whisked him into the kitchen for an early lunch. All of a sudden he was sitting in his pink steel highchair - with the inevitable mushy consequences of a poopy nappy smeared all over his cheeks and between his legs. Jane noticed his horrified expression as soon as she started to tighten the restraining straps. Jane cried, "Oh dear!" She sniffed the rancid air around his groin and pulled a funny face. "Pooh! Are we dirty, darling? Does Baby Daphne have a yucky poopy nappy? Aww! Poor baby! Oh well! You're already in your highchair. Mummy will just have to change you after you've had your lunchy-wunchies. Won't she?" Jane tossed him a wicked smile and finished buckling the restraining straps, making sure they were drawn extra-tight. David then had to endure the perfectly horrible experience of having to eat his lunch while desperate for a change, sitting in a stinky poopy nappy. The awful stench rising up to assault his nostrils didn't help his appetite one bit! Jane carried on feeding him as though nothing untoward had happened. He couldn't understand how she could endure the stink without grimacing. On another occasion he had been wearing his baby-blue shortie overalls one Saturday morning, which indicated they were probably leaving the house at some stage. David never knew much in advance what activities Mummy had planned for any day - although some rhythm was starting to be established. He thought he'd better do his poo-poo while they were still at home, but Jane - perhaps deliberately - didn't care to notice when he soiled his nappy. She started to lead him outside to pop him in the car, and David was petrified! The very idea of being outside the house in a dirty smelly nappy was totally off-limits in his mind. Despite the strict injunction to remain quiet, he squealed: "Mummy, I need changing! I'm dirty!" Jane stopped for a moment, frowned and warned him, "That's two sticks for that outburst, young lady! One more peep and you'll get another three!" The fear of going outside with a smelly mess in his nappy made him persist, resulting in a sound paddling later that day, and an embarrassing nappy change in the baby-changing facility at Tesco's - an experience he hoped never to undergo again. Jane had excelled herself by first dragging him along by one hand like a naughty child to the help counter, where she asked a woman, "Excuse me? My little one has just soiled her diaper." She tilted her head, indicating the cowering child whose hand she gripped. "Is it alright to use the baby changing facility here to change my dirty big baby?" She made it abundantly clear he was the one who'd had a messy accident and was desperately in need of a fresh nappy. The female shop assistants would usually smirk or snigger when they realised he was the baby under discussion. Their obvious signs of support and sympathy for Jane when they realized this skinny, effeminate young man cringing in front of them, dressed in his childish shortie overalls with a very obvious nappy bulge between his legs, really needed a change as he was dirty, reduced David to a red-faced snivelling mess. By this time he could easily smell himself, and he felt sure that the entire world could as well, making him totally self-conscious and easy to manipulate. Jane had initially thought it would be impossible to pull off such an outrageous stunt in public. Although she knew they weren't breaking any laws, she never believed she'd have the courage to do it. Somehow her growing sense of control over her infantile husband - and the sheer sexual arousal she received from publicly humiliating him - had overcome her former scruples. A public school education, a law degree and oodles of self-confidence made it all possible. She found that whereas most people didn't notice anything untoward at first, as soon as she involved other women in some way - such as asking to use the baby changing facility with a meaningful nod in his direction - they were always on her side. They instantly seemed to sense that Jane was the one in complete charge, and that somehow it was perfectly okay to join her in a public act of shaming this effeminate little man in the unusual juvenile outfit with his suspiciously padded bottom. His red- faced embarrassment and childish awkwardness made it even easier for innocent bystanders to casually disregard his feelings. To be continued in chapter 4.