Dale’s Story – Chapter Five
The sudden panic had woken him. He opened his eyes and was immediately confronted by the face of a wild animal. He felt his body drain of blood as fear took over. For the briefest of seconds he was terrified until he recognised Tigger. A huge sigh of relief escaped as he grasped he was in his own room. However, that noise that had scared him in sleep came again.
“DALE.”
~
“What the…?” A confused Dale saw an old man lingering at the side of his bed.
“I’m Mr Brown, but you can call me Sir… or, more usually, Mr Brown sir.” The old man said in a very authoritative voice.
Dale was wriggling uncertainly under his blanket wondering what a strange, six foot tall, grey haired old man with sparkling eyes was doing in his bedroom. He looked around to see if his aunt or Miss McCloud were to be seen but it was just the two of them. He felt very uncomfortable and pulled up the blanket as a security shield.
“Your aunts have asked for my assistance.”
It was the first time Dale had thought of them both as aunts and not individuals but the old man had more to say.
“I am to be responsible for your physical wellbeing, education, social and moral welfare.”
Dale didn’t like the sound of that.
“Like fuck you are.” His comment was derisive and dismissive.
“I think the first thing is for you to lose that attitude, no one likes a foulmouthed teen… what are you thirteen, fourteen…?
“Eighteen?” Dale said indignantly.
“Eighteen?” Mr Brown looked on in surprise as he pulled away the blanket to reveal Dale wearing his necessary but childish bulky protection.
“HEY!” Dale reacted to the sudden revelation and tried, somewhat chastened, to grab back his bedding. “Give that back you mad old twat.”
Without a word Mr Brown reached in and grabbed him by the arm. Dale was surprised that the old man had such a powerful grip as he easily yanked the squirming teenager from his warm, if juvenile bed. Pulling desperately to try and get away Dale was no competition for Mr Brown who dragged him over to a chair propped against the wall. Mr Brown sat himself down and hauled the screaming and abuse shouting boy over his knee.
“Stop it, stop it, I’m not a fucking kid anymore. You can’t hit me. STOP IT.” He screamed and wriggled and fought but it was useless. “Nooooo!”
With a quick twist of the arm up his back pain shot through his body and his noisy resistance came to an end.
Mr Brown patted the plastic covering and, as one hand held Dale steady, the other pulled down his protection in a swift movement. The purple was fading from the previous night’s beating but was soon being replaced by the hefty hand swats of this remarkably tough old man. Dale’s legs swung and danced in protest as each wallop hit its mark. Mr Brown was thorough, severe and accurate, whilst the squealing boy on his lap could do nothing but writhe in agony.
~
Tears were streaming down his face as he pleaded for it to end. However, it would only stop after the man had made sure further defiance was understood to be futile. Dale’s bottom was red hot and throbbing but Mr Brown wouldn’t let him rub or try to soothe away the pain. Instead, he made the recalcitrant teen stand in front of him and apologise for swearing.
The agony and embarrassment left him speechless with supressed fury and obvious fear.
As he stood silent, apart from the sniffing back of tears, Mr Brown surveyed his charge. He certainly didn’t look eighteen; he put him early teens at the most. His shaven pubic area, sad sulky bottom lip and weepy eyes made him look even younger, whilst that mop of black hair certainly needed attending to; a boy in his care had to be smart. The rule was, hair should be off the collar, no rings or piercings, nor jewellery of any kind and always dressed appropriately. He knew he would very quickly have to impress on this particular student the rules by which he was going to be living.
“I’m waiting for an apology young man.”
Dale squirmed under the man’s scrutiny. He desperately wanted to say then he’d die waiting but any thoughts of being clever and obstinate were no longer part of his vocabulary. He wanted to run away, he wanted his mum, at that moment he wanted someone to offer comfort and take away the hurt but all he had was a very stern looking man who wasn’t going away anytime soon.
~
The apology was taking far too long so Mr Brown reached out and dragged the crying boy back over his knee. Two swats later and the apology arrived. Ten swats later and Dale’s sore bottom throbbed as if a thousand wasps had descended and left their sting. Not only that but he was promising this tyrant anything he asked if only the punishment would stop. Eventually it did but still made the quivering boy stand to attention and apologise properly with an undertaking that he’d never swear again. The weeping and very sore-bottomed teen had no option but to pledge to do whatever the man demanded and in return the man promised that should he even think about returning to his old ways, he would be disciplined even more severely. Dale looked into the man’s eyes as he said this and realised there was no doubt at all in the threat.
“Right, now we’re on the same page… we are late.” The old man went to the wardrobe and pulled out a vest, trainers and a pair of gym shorts.
Dale was smarting from the spanking and really didn’t know what was going on but knew that he’d better not annoy this man again. With Mr Brown searching in his wardrobe Dale tentatively rubbed his bottom to try and relieve some of the sting that was still careering around his body. His bum had taken a great deal of punishment over the past couple of days so, as he secretly tried to alleviate the pain, he was certain that he didn’t want to experience any more.
He caught the clothing as it was tossed to him but, with his nappy and pants still around his ankles he wasn’t sure what to do next.
“For heaven’s sake boy pull up you nappy.”
Suddenly Mr Brown told him to wait.
“Are you wet?” He enquired.
Dale was looking at the ground and despite his reluctance to answer eventually found his voice and to his genuine surprise found he was dry.
“No.”
Mr Brown looked a little exasperated.
“No what?”
“No I’m not wet,” Dale responded petulantly until he saw the look on Mr Brown’s face and realised his mistake.
“No I’m not wet Mr Brown sir.”
Mr Brown nodded, “Let’s start the way we mean to carry on. Polite, focused and enthusiastic so… let’s try that again.”
With a touch more enthusiasm and a little less resentment he repeated his words.
“No I’m not wet Mr Brown… SIR.”
Mr Brown nodded his approval. His stern expression gave way to one of jovial friendliness.
“Right we are going for a little jog.”
Mr Brown noticed the look of alarm flit across the boy’s face but Dale was smart enough not to say a word.
“So, pull up your pants, tuck in your nappy and put on your gym kit.”
~
The shorts were very short white cotton gym shorts that only just covered (though didn’t conceal) his bulky protection. The white vest was also short and tight which hardly reached the top of his nappy, thankfully the trainers fit fine. They were plain white though not a brand that Dale recognised but at least the size was correct. It was only then that he noticed the time on Mr Brown’s watch and it read 6.30. Six thirty in the morning was not a part of the day Dale had been acquainted with for quite some time. He normally didn’t get up until much later and even staying with his aunt hadn’t had to rise until around 8.30. However, this powerhouse of an old man was dressed in a tracksuit and ready to take his unwilling student on his first ever jog so they seemed little option.
Mr Brown understood that this was all new to Dale. In the conversation he’d had with his friends Christine and the lovely Miriam they’d explained his background, told him what they expected and that their ultimate goal was to have a nephew who was a productive and useful member of society. Because of his fascinating background they thought Mr Brown was just the man to do the job.
Mr Edward Brown was almost 70 year old; ex-marine, ex-boxer and ex-school master at one of the UK’s top private schools. He was a stickler for protocol and imbued his students with a confidence and energy that few other teachers could accomplish. He was stern, uncompromising, dedicated and got results. He had many successes, was well-liked by his students simply because he never sold them short, always encouraged and gave himself completely over to the advancement of his boys. It was said that with Mr Brown in your corner, nothing was impossible and many students, including some very high powered people, acknowledged his positive effect on their lives.
~
Now he’d set the boundaries with Dale he was hopeful that he could get on and help the boy accomplish something with his life. First he needed to test him to see what level he was at in fitness and knowledge. He was aware that Dale was a bit worried about running the streets wearing such a skimpy pair of shorts that exposed his nappy. Mr Brown’s view was that worrying about such a minor thing was a waste of energy and focus; if he had to wear a nappy, for whatever reason, that was his business and nothing to do with anyone else.
The jog was slow as a reluctant Dale wasn’t in the least bit enthusiastic. They hadn’t travelled very far when the sprightly Mr Brown joked and cajoled his latest student to try and at least keep up with the ‘old man’ – hoping by using Dale’s opinion of him in a jocular manner to spur him on. However, he could see that the nappy was interfering as Dale kept trying to pull his shorts down a little in an attempt and hide it.
“Don’t worry about them,” he said eying the problem, “You’d be surprised how many lads your age still wear a nappy. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, nor should you let it define you. Why not regard it as ‘super underwear’ and you’re one of those ‘chosen’ to wear them?”
He beamed at his little joke and Dale saw that perhaps his nappy wasn’t that much of a problem after all. After all, even this old lunatic wasn’t mocking him for wearing them.
“Super Undies?” Dale considered the idea and then shrugged. “Yes, everyone will want to wear them with that name.”
They chuckled at the thought as they navigated their way through the public.
Although Dale was having trouble keeping up, partly because his bottom was still throbbing from the discipline, he became less concerned with the bulky thing that kept his dick warm on such a cool early morning run. There were many people bustling along on their way to work and the two, master and student, jogged between them and completed their first circuit.
Mr Brown was full of praise and encouragement even though Dale was almost dead from this initial effort. However, the pat on the back and the continual reassurance from this ‘old twat’ was having an effect. The teen had never been praised before. He’d never had someone give such individual effort to his wellbeing so that when Mr Brown suggested another circuit, despite him being knackered, Dale was unexpectedly desperate to take up the challenge.
~
During the next circuit he wet himself. It was only after it had happened that he became aware of the sogginess in his nappy. He didn’t know whether to tell Mr Brown about it or just carry on but the cooling urine and bunched up protection was causing some concern so he reluctantly and nervously explained the situation. He was worried that the old man would call him names and think he was nothing but a ‘big baby’ but it didn’t happen that way at all. Mr Brown acknowledged the problem and guided him back to the house with constant reassurances and support. Again this wasn’t what he expected from this stern man who he now realised, once he got to know him, was on his side. Perhaps it was because of his clear head but it had only taken a short jog for him to realise this and the revelation was surprising.
Christine and Miriam were having breakfast when they arrived back, both dressed in business suits and looking as intimidating as ever. Mr Brown was greeted with a kiss and hug, whilst they both had positive words for Dale who, despite his soaked nappy, looked fresh and blooming after his early morning exercise. His protection was beginning to annoy him so he was in a hurry to get it off and slip into the shower to refresh and revitalise. But first he remembered his aunt’s instructions to use the toilet before enjoying the powerful warm jets that strafed his body.
~
When he’d finished, and he gathered up his wet things, returned to his room and was surprised to find Mr Brown waiting for him. The mat and all the things he needed had been set out and Dale wondered if he would watch while his aunt or Miss McCloud changed him. Mr Brown indicated that he should lie out on the mat. Dale was more than a little reluctant but Mr Brown’s soothing words soon had him complying.
“Do you know how many boys I’ve had to change?” He asked with a humour in his voice.
It was a rhetorical question and he didn’t expect an answer.
“Thousands.”
“Yes, but I’m not a boy… I’m a man,” He suddenly worried if he was on shaky ground, was he a man?
Mr Brown shrugged. “Don’t be in such a rush to bracket yourself… just enjoy the freedom that your current situation offers.”
Mr Brown tapped the mat and was insistent that Dale now do as he was bid.
“I don’t ask twice,”
Dale had quickly learned what that look meant so immediately complied.
“I hope we become friends, of sorts anyway, and that you trust me to have your best interests at heart.” Using the towel he wiped the last remaining droplets of water away. “Your aunts have gone to work so I will be supervising until they return and then you are their responsibility.”
He said the last few words as if Dale was lucky to have such wonderful women in his life; it was obvious he thought very highly of them.
The rash was healing nicely but Mr Brown still daubed on a great gluey mass of antiseptic cream and joked as he sprinkled powder all over the well anointed spot. The old man had made what could have been an awkward situation into a light, unfussy process which quickly saw him pinned securely.
Mr Brown completed the task by shimmying a softer pair of blue plastic pants over the bulge, which together with the tighter fitting nappy, gave the teen a weirdly new found confidence.
“Your aunts insist that you stay well protected and I have to agree with them, until you can get the incontinence under control, this will keep you dry and you’ll have the self-assurance that such security offers.”
~
Mr Brown went to the wardrobe and saw what was hung up waiting for the next part of Dale’s education.
He passed him a white shirt and told him to put it on, which he did. He then handed him a tie and told him to do the same. Dale hadn’t worn a tie since he was at school, he hated them, but Mr Brown was insistent so he struggled and eventually it was in place. At first Dale didn’t know where all these clothes were coming from but then remembered that his aunt had hung stuff up the previous night. He also recalled just how sore his bottom had been after her spanking and a shiver ran down his spine as he shuffled nervously around in his nappy. He didn’t want a repeat of that so when he was given a pair of grey school shorts to wear, although he wanted to rebel and to scream ‘NO’, instead he meekly stepped into them and pulled them over his bulging protection. Like his gym shorts, they covered rather than concealed.
“That’s better,” Mr Brown said approvingly.
“I don’t understand… why am I dressed as a schoolboy?” He was looking disdainfully at his new outfit.
“Because you are going back to school.”
It was a statement of fact that Mr Brown wasn’t sure needed further explanation however, he noticed the confusion drift across Dale’s face.
“Your aunts have decided you need another chance to… get on in life.”
He looked to see if Dale was paying attention.
“Don’t worry we won’t be starting from scratch but for the time being at least, part of your day will be spent on your re-education, whilst I’m sure your aunts will have plans to occupy you at other times.”
As Mr Brown was explaining Dale’s immediate future he passed him a pair of knee length grey socks and a pair of new black shoes to complete the uniform. There was also a jumper with a crest on it that Mr Brown thought finished the entire ensemble off just right. He nodded approvingly at the relatively smart boy who had suddenly materialised in front of him but, he would have to do something with that long thick hair, it just was spoiling the entire image.
“Mr Brown… sir… isn’t all this,” and his hands panned down his juvenile clothes, “all a bit childish?”
His teacher smiled, “Well Dale there are several ways you can look at this: We are going to explore you and your intellect and we are going to do that within the framework of school.”
Dale shrugged not really liking where this appeared to be going.
“However, I have found, over the years, that a school uniform gives a student focus, he’s not distracted about what others are wearing because, well, everyone is wearing the same. A school uniform is often derided by those who have never felt pride in anything. It can be a source of ‘family and fraternity’ something that binds you to another person, a group, an idea… it is the start of when a person begins to feel some self-respect”
Dale was not particularly feeling it at that moment.
“A schoolboy uniform,” Mr Brown continued, “is no different from any other uniform; in the armed services, the pilot of a jetliner, the captain of a ship or even stacking tins of beans at your local superstore, all have a uniform; it’s a unifying emblem that says you belong. It may seem strange to think it but a uniform gives you an identity, it gives you purpose, it gives you the opportunity to be part of something bigger than yourself. Though you may not know it, you are part of something special and should wear that uniform with pride.”
“But why am I wearing shorts,” he looked down uncomprehendingly, “Why not trousers?”
“You are wearing the same uniform that Harry would wear to his school. Perhaps you’re wearing his clothes?”
Dale shrugged. None of it was making too much sense but was still a bit fazed by the speech and didn’t really know what to say. However, Mr Brown noticed that his latest pupil was a bit nonplussed by it all and thought he’d try to put his mind at rest.
“Or if you prefer…” he said with a twinkle in his eye, “because I say so.”
Dale didn’t know whether to laugh or not so instead he simply followed Mr Brown down the stairs and out into the garden.
~
The small summer house had been equipped with a desk, chair and a few other items that were needed.
“This will be your classroom. Every morning, after your exercise and breakfast, you will assemble here at 8.30, dressed as you are now and be prepared to commence work.”
It was making no sense to Dale and again he felt the urge to tell Mr Brown to fuck off, and take his aunt and Miss McCloud with him. However, he stifled his defiance and went along with what was being said. At the back of his mind were the severe beatings he’d taken for being mouthy and not complying with what, in retrospect, were fairly basic requirements of politeness and respect.
“I want you to achieve all those things that as a small boy you yearned to achieve. Hopefully we’ll even surpass those aspirations and give you new ones. Who knows, maybe we can get that best-selling novel out of you.”
Dale was shocked. How did this man know about his dream? How on Earth could he possibly know that was what he craved for before? Well, that was before he found other things which simply stopped him having to think. He shifted uneasily in his cumbersome shorts and actually wondered if this man was a mind-reader or something even scarier.
The old man had already proved that he was fit; he had drive, he had personality, he also had a bloody hard hand if Dale stepped out of line but, and this was slowly dawning on his no longer drug addled brain, the man was there totally for his benefit.
Even when younger and at school he couldn’t remember any of the staff being as encouraging as this man was. He couldn’t remember ever being spoken to in a reasonable tone; it was always condescension, mockery, contempt or a battle trying to get his voice heard over the clamour of a class full of noisy kids. As he settled at the prepared desk, and despite the silly uniform (though his tight-fitting nappy and shorts were remarkably comfortable), his padded bottom sitting snugly cushioned on the hard chair, he thought he should at least give the man a chance and see where it led. Besides, he needed to find out how he knew about his writing ambitions.
On the second day Mr Brown took a pair of scissors and the clippers to Dale’s thick bush of hair and gave him a style, much shorter and more acceptable to the teacher’s high personal standards. Dale hadn’t wanted to lose his long dark locks but another fight, and one he knew he’d never win, would have been pointless so he just let him get on with it. However, his mood improved when his aunt and Miss McCloud both commented separately on how much more ‘mature’ he looked with it shorter. Which, even though he was wearing a schoolboy uniform pleased him no end?
~
Over the coming weeks Dale excelled in his personal development. Without drugs or alcohol, but with a nutritious if Spartan diet, his body and demeanour improved. The lessons weren’t as bad as he anticipated, the exercise he was now forced to undertake was beneficial and fun, whilst the resentment and lackadaisical attitude he had to life waned rapidly once he saw that his ‘novel’ was taking shape under Mr Brown’s encouraging guidance. He even didn’t mind the schoolboy uniform if that’s what his teacher insisted he wear, whilst his respect and gratitude for this old man was rocketing with each passing day.
In the afternoon, once his education for the day was over, Aunt Christine or Miss McCloud would take Dale off to work on some project where he was given the job to paint, decorate, garden or repair, in fact, do the things he’d been paid to do previously. The work on these many and varied properties was constant. It was hard work just keeping up with all the old properties they owned but as new ones came onto the company’s portfolio, the demands on his time grew and grew. Often he didn’t finish until late at night, when he’d tumble home in a soaked nappy and be almost too tired to change. His aunt and Miss McCloud no longer supervised his urinal needs, that was his own responsibility but, as he continued to have his wetting problem, the fabric nappies and protection stayed an important part of his life.
He’d come to accept that his aunt and Miss McCloud had been correct in making him ‘re-pay’ his debts and although the work was hard they hadn’t abandoned him and he still lived in their home where most of his needs were met. These days his dreaming was intermittent; possibly because he was so worn out at the end of each day. However, the old dream of him being an author occasionally returned but now it had a touch of clarity about it. Plots and dialogue had replaced manic typing and now, shrouded each night in a thick and comforting fluffy nappy, he woke to a dry bed even if his protection was soaked through, although even that occurrence was getting less often.
Strangely, Dale found his daily protection had become an integral element in the overall positive mood he was now enjoying and rarely gave a thought to anyone who might see or comment on them, though in truth, few people did. He often worked with the top of his nappy showing above his waistband and, as he always wore shorts (another ‘habit’ he’d adopted) the thick silky bulky plastic could often be seen drooping down his legs… he didn’t care.
Under Mr Brown’s guidance he quickly comprehended just what was being offered and his outlook on life changed immediately. No silly arguments, no protestations, no shirking responsibilities. Indeed he was eternally grateful to the two women who saved him from becoming a useless, drugged idiot who achieved nothing. He was rejuvenated, happy, motivated and often couldn’t wait for his early morning run so that he might exchange ideas with wonderful mentor.
Once in the classroom those ideas were developing his first novel, he was resolutely exploring each storyline and playing with nuances. He felt invigorated at how, with such incredible encouragement from those around him, that youthful ambition was slowly but ultimately taking shape. He happily worked as hard as he could during the day and, if he had the time, at night he’d be back and working on his literary project.
Now there didn’t seem to be enough hours in the day to achieve what he wanted to do and, with no procrastination in his life, he was desperate to start another chapter… in every sense of the word.
The End of Dale’s Story – Chapter Five.
The story originally came from: https://www.dailydiapers.com/content/stories.html
If you want to read more stories about ABDL boys you can find a list here: Diaper Boys – Index