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A World Of Incontinent Girls 2
We are at the home of Mr. Anthony Reynolds, a well to do stockbroker, age 48.
Mr. Reynolds is at his breakfast table, intently studying the newspaper and sipping coffee, as Missy
Reynolds, apparently fresh out of bed enters. The leggy brunette is only half her husband’s age and a
real beauty, obviously a trophy wife.
She is stretching and yawning while rounding the table to give her spouse a peck on the cheek, her
hair and black-lace babydoll disheveled from sleep, the mostly pink colour of her fashion-girl
night-nappy indicating its thoroughly pee soaked state. Mr. Reynolds look is very disapproving as he
watches his young wife moving to her chair with a slight waddle. Where she unnecessarily is lifting up
the back of her short nightie, the plastic covered disposable emitting more of a squelching then
crinkling sound as she plops down on it.
Mr. Reynolds: You could at least have brushed your teeth and changed your nappy before coming
down for breakfast Carolyn.
Missy Reynolds: Naa, I am hungry, I want my breakfast first.
she replies petulantly.
Mr. Reynolds: I have to eat here too, you know, and I would prefer to do that without a smelly girl at
the table.
He is clearly referring to her bad breath, but his wife chooses to misunderstand.
Missy Reynolds: You cannot smell my pee, silly. Its all absorbed, nearly all at least.
she replies wriggling her behind, smiling mischievously.
Mr. Reynolds: Thank you very much, dear. The picture of you sitting in a puddle of your own piss has
really got me of my appetite now.
Missy Reynolds: And its cozy and still warm from my morning wee.
she adds with a sassy grin.
Further exchanges are cut short by the arrival of Miss Hancock and the breakfast trolley. Miss
Hancock has been the good soul of Mr. Reynolds household for longer than his three marriages put
together have lasted so far. Still she is very much liked by his newest wife, who finds her a bit bossy
at times, but always supportive and well meaning, at least.
Mr. Reynolds: You wouldn’t even have had to do it by yourself. Miss Hancock would certainly have
changed you.
Miss Hancock: I offered, as I woke her up this morning, and complimented her to what a heavy
wetter she is, didn’t I love. But she wanted to show her pink nappy of to her husband.
Carolyn’s smug grin is quickly wiped from her face as she notices the bowl of oatmeal Miss Hancock
has placed in front of her.
Missy Reynolds: I don’t want this sludge! I want strawberries with whipped cream and fruitpops with
milk.
Miss Hancock: That’s what Mr. Reynolds ordered for you, darling.
To which he comments without looking up from his paper,
Mr. Reynolds: Eat your porridge, sweetie. It is good for your tummy.
To which she answers very petulantly,
Missy Reynolds: You don’t really care what’s good for me, and what I want, and you just care that it’s
good to get my tummy going, so I do my poopy at home and don’t embarrass you in front of your
“old” friends at the club.
At that he puts his paper down.
Mr. Reynolds: Am I really asking to much if I want an adult conversation from time to time and don’t
want my wife’s only contribution to those gatherings to be, her shitting her nappy and stinking up
the place. Maybe it is true that pretty little girls should only be seen but not heard, but surely they
shouldn’t be smelled.
Carolyn is taken aback by the vehemence of his response; she casts a pleading look in Miss Hancock’s
direction.
Miss Hancock, savvy woman she is, has not the slightest inclination of being involved in matrimonial
disputes and is already on the way back to the kitchen.
Being bereft of any support Carolyn has to fend for herself, so she puts up her back, thin lipped fixing
her husband with a cold gaze.
Missy Reynolds: If you think I’m such an embarrassment, maybe you should have stayed with your
last wife, she was all grown up, and old! Maybe you prefer saggy tits and a saggy tummy to a sagging
nappy.
With that she is lifting up her nighty, circling her navel above the ruffled waistband of her nappy with
the tip of her finger, looking provocatively up at him with her head cocked. He answers her much
calmer now,
Mr. Reynolds: I am really baffled why you insist on coming with me. You don’t even like it there. All
my friends wives are grown women, even the daughters they bring with them are mostly at least 10
years older then you. There is no one of your age there, except for the service staff.
And even those girls know better than to poop themselves while at the club.
the last he added as a snide remark.
With a sly look his wife responds,
Missy Reynolds: You would like that, me staying at home, so you could have your adult
“conversations” with your lady friends.
He is raising his head with a calculating look in his eyes,
Mr. Reynolds: Jealous? Afraid I could recognize the error of my ways and replace you with a real
woman? If so you should maybe try not to piss me off quite so much, don’t you think young lady?
Knowing this to be not far from the truth makes Carolyn angry but also afraid, and the cold wetness
of her nappy is beginning to irritate her a lot. She cannot get up now to find Miss Hancock to change
her without admitting defeat. In her confusion her husband’s next words don’t even register at first.
Mr. Reynolds: If you think you can be a woman, we can try that. I will take you to the club today in
just big girl panties.
Missy Reynolds: Yeah, very funny.
Seeing that he didn’t mean it as a joke, Carolyn is shocked into silence.
Miss Hancock has chosen this moment to return to the dining room and hearing that last remark of
her long time employer, she is not amused at all.
Miss Hancock: You cannot do that Mr. Reynolds, forcing a young girl to go out in public without a
nappy is abusive. You will humiliate her in front of everyone. It is not as if she could help it, she
wasn’t making a mess at the club to spite you.
Mr. Reynolds: As you two are so very well agreed in this, I will hand it to you that my wife will not
make a fool of me with my friends again. You will make sure she eats her porridge, even if you have
to spoon feed it to her, afterwards she can have those strawberries you have brought without my
asking for them. Then you will take her to the bathroom, sit her tushy down on the toilet and make
sure that she doesn’t get up until she has had a goodly sized dump. She will brush her teeth, have a
bath and be groomed, dressed and nappied, smelling nicely, ready to depart at 12:30 at the latest or I
will leave without her.
With those words he gets up heading for his study.
Mr. Reynolds is at his breakfast table, intently studying the newspaper and sipping coffee, as Missy
Reynolds, apparently fresh out of bed enters. The leggy brunette is only half her husband’s age and a
real beauty, obviously a trophy wife.
She is stretching and yawning while rounding the table to give her spouse a peck on the cheek, her
hair and black-lace babydoll disheveled from sleep, the mostly pink colour of her fashion-girl
night-nappy indicating its thoroughly pee soaked state. Mr. Reynolds look is very disapproving as he
watches his young wife moving to her chair with a slight waddle. Where she unnecessarily is lifting up
the back of her short nightie, the plastic covered disposable emitting more of a squelching then
crinkling sound as she plops down on it.
Mr. Reynolds: You could at least have brushed your teeth and changed your nappy before coming
down for breakfast Carolyn.
Missy Reynolds: Naa, I am hungry, I want my breakfast first.
she replies petulantly.
Mr. Reynolds: I have to eat here too, you know, and I would prefer to do that without a smelly girl at
the table.
He is clearly referring to her bad breath, but his wife chooses to misunderstand.
Missy Reynolds: You cannot smell my pee, silly. Its all absorbed, nearly all at least.
she replies wriggling her behind, smiling mischievously.
Mr. Reynolds: Thank you very much, dear. The picture of you sitting in a puddle of your own piss has
really got me of my appetite now.
Missy Reynolds: And its cozy and still warm from my morning wee.
she adds with a sassy grin.
Further exchanges are cut short by the arrival of Miss Hancock and the breakfast trolley. Miss
Hancock has been the good soul of Mr. Reynolds household for longer than his three marriages put
together have lasted so far. Still she is very much liked by his newest wife, who finds her a bit bossy
at times, but always supportive and well meaning, at least.
Mr. Reynolds: You wouldn’t even have had to do it by yourself. Miss Hancock would certainly have
changed you.
Miss Hancock: I offered, as I woke her up this morning, and complimented her to what a heavy
wetter she is, didn’t I love. But she wanted to show her pink nappy of to her husband.
Carolyn’s smug grin is quickly wiped from her face as she notices the bowl of oatmeal Miss Hancock
has placed in front of her.
Missy Reynolds: I don’t want this sludge! I want strawberries with whipped cream and fruitpops with
milk.
Miss Hancock: That’s what Mr. Reynolds ordered for you, darling.
To which he comments without looking up from his paper,
Mr. Reynolds: Eat your porridge, sweetie. It is good for your tummy.
To which she answers very petulantly,
Missy Reynolds: You don’t really care what’s good for me, and what I want, and you just care that it’s
good to get my tummy going, so I do my poopy at home and don’t embarrass you in front of your
“old” friends at the club.
At that he puts his paper down.
Mr. Reynolds: Am I really asking to much if I want an adult conversation from time to time and don’t
want my wife’s only contribution to those gatherings to be, her shitting her nappy and stinking up
the place. Maybe it is true that pretty little girls should only be seen but not heard, but surely they
shouldn’t be smelled.
Carolyn is taken aback by the vehemence of his response; she casts a pleading look in Miss Hancock’s
direction.
Miss Hancock, savvy woman she is, has not the slightest inclination of being involved in matrimonial
disputes and is already on the way back to the kitchen.
Being bereft of any support Carolyn has to fend for herself, so she puts up her back, thin lipped fixing
her husband with a cold gaze.
Missy Reynolds: If you think I’m such an embarrassment, maybe you should have stayed with your
last wife, she was all grown up, and old! Maybe you prefer saggy tits and a saggy tummy to a sagging
nappy.
With that she is lifting up her nighty, circling her navel above the ruffled waistband of her nappy with
the tip of her finger, looking provocatively up at him with her head cocked. He answers her much
calmer now,
Mr. Reynolds: I am really baffled why you insist on coming with me. You don’t even like it there. All
my friends wives are grown women, even the daughters they bring with them are mostly at least 10
years older then you. There is no one of your age there, except for the service staff.
And even those girls know better than to poop themselves while at the club.
the last he added as a snide remark.
With a sly look his wife responds,
Missy Reynolds: You would like that, me staying at home, so you could have your adult
“conversations” with your lady friends.
He is raising his head with a calculating look in his eyes,
Mr. Reynolds: Jealous? Afraid I could recognize the error of my ways and replace you with a real
woman? If so you should maybe try not to piss me off quite so much, don’t you think young lady?
Knowing this to be not far from the truth makes Carolyn angry but also afraid, and the cold wetness
of her nappy is beginning to irritate her a lot. She cannot get up now to find Miss Hancock to change
her without admitting defeat. In her confusion her husband’s next words don’t even register at first.
Mr. Reynolds: If you think you can be a woman, we can try that. I will take you to the club today in
just big girl panties.
Missy Reynolds: Yeah, very funny.
Seeing that he didn’t mean it as a joke, Carolyn is shocked into silence.
Miss Hancock has chosen this moment to return to the dining room and hearing that last remark of
her long time employer, she is not amused at all.
Miss Hancock: You cannot do that Mr. Reynolds, forcing a young girl to go out in public without a
nappy is abusive. You will humiliate her in front of everyone. It is not as if she could help it, she
wasn’t making a mess at the club to spite you.
Mr. Reynolds: As you two are so very well agreed in this, I will hand it to you that my wife will not
make a fool of me with my friends again. You will make sure she eats her porridge, even if you have
to spoon feed it to her, afterwards she can have those strawberries you have brought without my
asking for them. Then you will take her to the bathroom, sit her tushy down on the toilet and make
sure that she doesn’t get up until she has had a goodly sized dump. She will brush her teeth, have a
bath and be groomed, dressed and nappied, smelling nicely, ready to depart at 12:30 at the latest or I
will leave without her.
With those words he gets up heading for his study.
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