With mounting horror I realised that she was coming towards me, "please don't notice me" I whispered under my breath. Please please walk straight past, how will I explain myself to a Policewoman dressed like this. How can a police officer understand why a 30 something man is standing in front of Manchester Piccadilly Railway station wearing an ensemble more suitable for a rather childish teenage girl with an obsession for pink. Looking down I mentally catalogued my outfit, pink cardigan, pink fleece, blue jeans puffed out at the rear by several disposable nappies and plastic pants, white school socks and most tellingly pink schoolgirl single strapped shoes. Glancing up again I our eyes met her look contained both confusion and contempt. The Policewoman glared coldly at me "what are you doing, I've noticed you lurking here dressed more like my little sister than a grown man. Looking down in confusion, unable to meet the steel grey eyes of the confident attractive blonde policewoman, I muttered that "I was waiting for someone". Just then disaster struck, my bladder suddenly released itself into my already sodden nappies. Unable to take anymore my nappies leaked and overflowed running down the legs of my plastic panties right down the legs of my jeans and at the same time another patch appeared at my crotch and yet another sprang into life on my rear. "Good God you're wetting yourself like a big soft Baby", exclaimed the policewoman, "what the bloody hell is this. I think I'd better take you down to the station"? Seizing me by the arm she marched me none too gently over to the squad car.


    Half an hour later I sat in anguished humiliation dressed only in my still sodden nappy in an interview room. Staring at me with incredulous contempt were the policewoman whose name I had discovered was Sergeant Jones and her superior Inspector Lydia Steele. "So young man", Inspector Steele began, "you feel a need to dress up and parade yourself in a public place whilst wearing clothes more appropriate to a little girl. At the same time you wear and wet nappies like a baby. You aren’t a man at all just a pathetic little sissy pansy boy You shouldn’t be wearing little girls socks and jeans and schoolgirl shoes, you should be wearing a frilly dress, lying in a cot and sucking a dummy. Well you're in luck that’s just what is going to happen". "Who" I started to protest, to ask what on earth they meant, how could such a thing happen, after all they were police officers! "Shut up sissy" snapped Sergeant Jones slapping me viciously around the face, "you've said quite enough, I'll tell you when I want to hear from you again if I ever do.


    Now we have some friends who don't like men very much but just love frilly little baby girls. Unfortunately they've always wanted a baby and they’d just about given up on having one. Now we have one for them, you". I started to protest again and made to get up. This time Inspector Steele pushed me back down firmly but gently wagging a finger in my face she fixed me with a gimlet glare. "Now no fuss about lawyers and habeas corpus, dressed as you are we could persuade any court in the land to send you down for so long that you never see the light of day again. You will be our friends little baby girl and it will be even better than real life, because you will never ever grow up. As I sat there the impact of her words sank in, she really meant it, this wasn’t a sick joke or an unofficial punishment for a 'pervert'. They meant it, my foolish dressing up and exhibitionism had led me to a nightmare situation. Holding my head in my hands I collapsed in despairing heart-rending sobs.


"Yes" smiled the sergeant, " let it all out and have a good long cry, just like a real baby, but then you are a real baby, aren't you pansy boy.