We were a typical family among some that were not. Dad started off as a carpenter, working on building new houses. Then he specialized in bathrooms and kitchens as his experience grew. Now that he is up in his forties, he started playing around with furniture. Of course, he was in hog heaven, new specialized tools were needed to build furniture, his shop out behind our home getting a total revamp. Then his oldest daughter got married, and soon they were expecting. He built all of the baby furniture, a crib, changing table, high chair, play pens, you name it the baby had one of them.
Our parents were kind of the only normal ones among their friends, most of the major lifestyle choices more than prevalent among their group of friends. One half of one of these couples requested a crib to be built, after seeing the one that Dad had built for his soon to be grandchild. This one was to be a little different, sized to handle an adult baby. They seemed genuine in their request, after Dad found the size needed, it was no problem for him to crank one out in the new size. Well, after the friend saw the crib, took some pictures and sent them to their friends, Dad suddenly had orders for fifteen of them in varying sizes. The workmanship was outstanding on all of them, just the way Dad did things. Built from solid oak, mitered and jointed for strength, and varnished to preserve the finish of the completed product, they would last almost forever keeping their little charges confined, or is that large charges.
Within a couple of weeks more orders come in, once the customers found out he made other baby furniture too. Soon he had a backlog of orders for adult baby furniture. His prices were fair, but he always made sure he made money on the materials and labor. It wasn’t very long before one of his buddies was employed to help Dad, forever piece completed there were two to three orders placed for more and varied furniture.
Another month passed, and then our parents called for a family meeting, my two sisters, myself and our parents were in attendance. They wanted to capitalize on this unexpected type of business. Dad, of course, to continue making the furniture. Jennifer the older sister was going to look into buying related items that could be sold to some of the same customers we had for the furniture. Betty the younger of my sisters was going to publish a catalog both online and a printed version for those that desired it. Mom was already sewing some baby things, the first few items she made sold out quickly. It seemed there was a large demand for anything adult baby related, especially as we treated them just like a regular customer, no matter that the items they bought were not main stream in any way.
Once everything was laid out, it was now time for Mom to fill me in on what my part would be. I noticed everybody got up and left the room except Mom. I swallowed hard, maybe I am in trouble here. She asked me to come and sit on the couch next to her. As I did so I saw the letters from my high school laid out carefully on the coffee table. She turned to face me, waiting for me to say the first words. The lump that was wedged in my throat was not moving at all so nothing came out of my mouth. She waited, patience has always been one of her strong points. She leaned back against the sofa, smiled a little then pointed to the letters again.
“If you remember we have had a discussion about your studies almost every week. I asked how you are doing, wanting to know if there was anything I could do to help. Since I received the first letter there has been fifteen discussions up to now. Your answer always the same, I am doing fine in all my classes with no difficulty. I have let it proceed along, waiting to see if you were going to ride it out, or eventually beg for some help. Then I started getting letters about absences from school, supposedly authorized by me. Your skill at forging my signature is quite legendary, but unfortunately for you a career as one is not going to be a viable option.”
“Then came the final letter, telling us that you flunked your final exams and will not be graduating this year. Now your father and I have had hopes for you, but you seem to be of another mind. Since you are not eighteen yet, we have decided to make some changes in your life. We have given up hope of your graduating and maybe college. That was a dream apparently only shared by your Father and I. Since you live under our roof, it will be necessary for you to do something to help the family in our new found business. With you poor grades and lack of a diploma it will have to be something we feel that you are capable of, nothing too complicated or difficult.”
“Of course, unless you want to fend for yourself, you will be subject to our rules and desires. For lying to us many times and willfully forging my signature you are grounded for life. Before you protest, you are damn lucky I settled for something that easy. Dad had in mind paddling your ass until you could never sit down again, and that was only for a starter. If you misbehave I can always let Dad have a turn at your discipline.”
“I suggest that you go to your room, and think of all the chances you have had to make things better and willfully chose to ignore every one of them. You will not be getting dinner tonight, so plan accordingly. You and I have an appointment in the morning, as we get you ready for your job to help the family. I suggest you convince yourself to accept our choices, I guarantee you will not like the results if you protest or complain. Just think two disappointed parents, now having to deal with a child that has no education and no desire to succeed at anything.”
“I do not want you out of your room for anything and I do not want to hear a word from that mouth of yours. Be ready at eight in the morning, hair combed and teeth brushed. Now go.”
I quickly made it to my room, shaking a little as I made my way there. Mom has always been the disciplinarian in the family, her no-nonsense approach and her fairness made her feared if you ever crossed her. I think I have crossed over the fence too many times. As she was telling me of my new life her voice never raised once, her cold calculating manner making itself known. I think all of her kids were scared of her, I know my sisters always yielded to her wishes with never a word spoken in protest. Once or twice that my sisters had offered me some advice, it was always do what Mom says. I was aware of how Mom is, but decided to try and slip one past her. I absolutely hated school, the teachers were boring and I could see no benefit to graduate just to work some job in retail. I doubted my life would be anything else but some menial job at minimum wage.
It was a boring night, I had my stereo on but turned way down not wanting to make things worse. I did think about the things I did, maybe not the smartest things that I had ever attempted. Then forging her signature on the letters excusing my absence seemed so easy. I just never thought that I might get caught at it. Then there were my studies, it just seemed such a waste of time. I will never use this shit in real life, when is the last time Dad used calculus in his work. Mom never writes a composition, too busy taking care of her family. About one AM I drifted off to sleep, only to be rudely awakened by my alarm clock just before seven in the morning. I laid there for a few minutes then remembered what Mom and I will be doing today and instantly got out of bed. I was ready fifteen minutes later, sitting on the bed waiting for Mom to either call me or come to get me.
Mom came sweeping into the room, some things under her arm. She blindfolded me with a scarf, laid me back on the bed and told me to stay perfectly still. Her tone was definitely do not mess with me this morning, when I reached up with my arm it was slapped hard and laid by my side. My pants were lowered after the belt buckle was undone, they were now residing around my knees. My shirt was unbuttoned and I was encouraged to sit up. The shirt instantly removed from my body as soon as she could get it up my arms. I have never seen her like this, my arms got slapped three more times impressing on me to stay still. My boxers were slid down with my pants, then my shoes removed and my pants and boxers were soon to follow.
Now naked she had me raise my butt and something was slid under it. She gathered the material and pinned it at my sides. It took me a couple of minutes to figure out what she was doing, suddenly my mind figured it out. She just put me in a diaper. Something was slid over my hands and buckled at my wrists. As I tried to move my fingers they were now trapped in the item she had put on my hands. I heard the door open and my sister come in the room. Her only words were how cute. My blindfold was slipped off, I took one look at my body and groaned.
I am sure I was beet red, in a diaper and naked just like a baby. I was led out of the house and then to Mom’s car. The back door was open and I saw the car seat waiting for me, most likely. Something new that Dad put together, larger than most car seats, but designed the same way. I tried to apply the brakes but one push and I was right next to it. Sis helped me up and slipped me into the seat. She made sure I was secure, every strap tightened leaving me helpless. Now that I was secured, I looked at my hands and saw mittens. My hands were now useless, maybe I could pick something up with both hands, but nothing else was possible. A pacifier was slipped into my mouth and the strap fastened behind my head. I tried real hard to ignore it but before she backed out of the drive I was sucking on it. I was terrified of what is happening, but even more of what was going to happen to me. The pacifier was something to take my mind off of what is going to happen.
I tried to figure out where they could be taking me, but nothing made sense. When they pulled up in front of the beauty salon Mom uses, I knew this was going to be bad. I hadn’t got around to what they would do to me, I was more concerned about being seen in a diaper with a pacifier in my mouth. Sis helped me out of the car seat, set me on the ground and then took my hand as she led me inside the salon. No shoes just some thick socks over my feet. The receptionist made a big fuss over me, every comment she made brought more embarrassment to me. I so wanted to run away, but where and how. Finally I was taken back to a room at the back of the salon, where Mom informed the technician what was to be done to me. I just stared at Mom, she can’t do this to me, I am her son, it isn’t right.
My thoughts were apparently wrong, the technician presented some forms and Mom signed them after showing the tech a legal document giving her full legal authority over me. I glanced at it, it was signed by a judge and notarized, leaving me not much say anymore. I lived at home was not eighteen and subject to what my parents decided for me. Now they had somehow got even more control over me, through a court, I guess my actions have now come back to haunt me. I tried stomping my feet, just like a child trying to get attention and his way. I found myself being jerked by my arm over a chair and my diaper lowered. To my utter humiliation I was spanked hard until the tears came streaming down my face. Jerked back up to my feet, Mom’s face right in front of me. “Now be quiet, or we can continue that line of therapy until we wear your butt out.”
That did it for me, mouth closed tight and standing there as quietly as possible. My butt hurt real bad, it seemed like it was on fire. I did move my legs once or twice trying to find a spot a little more comfortable. It turned out that was not possible. A sniff or two escaped, I was trying so hard to keep quiet. I received another stare from Mom, but that was it. Her and the salon technician talked for quite a while and after things were settled, I was laid on the table, the diaper around my ankles was removed and a couple of straps applied to my body to keep me from going anywhere.
I was embarrassed, naked and being seen by Mom, Sis and the lady tech. I was pathetically flat, not even a twitch coming from my male organ. I was at the age that it worked, I have used it exclusively for several months, once I found out what was possible. Let’s just say that my hand and my male apparatus were on a first name basis. Let’s face it, now we are both scared shitless at what is happening.
Warm wax is spread over my body, a small area at a time. A cloth is pushed into the wax and then jerked off, the wax and my body hair coming with it. There was no areas missed, I was now baby smooth all over. I was always small for my age, small enough to fit in a slightly altered child seat in the car. Now with what little body hair I had gone, my closer resemblance to a baby is a real concern.
My hair is washed and conditioned, then cut into a girly style. When curlers are added, the presumption that I will be a female baby is confirmed. Mom is sure making her point, everything done to me stating loud and clear how much I have screwed things up for myself. Then makeup is added to my face, blush on my cheeks and a pink lipstick on my lips. Then we have to discuss what they did to my eyes. Long lash extensions were glued to my existing lashes, then coated with mascara. The tech doing it telling me I didn’t need to worry about reapplying it myself, all the makeup they used is semi-permanent, good for at least six months. I closed my eyes, a tear or two escaping from my orbs.
At that point I knew my fate, no matter what I did I would become an adult female baby, for the foreseeable future, apparently the only task they feel I am qualified for. Now all those classes in high school didn’t seem so worthless. Way too late to change things now, maybe I can get some time off for good behavior if I am a good baby.
My mittens were taken off, my hands secured to a table in front of me. One tech for each hand, my nails are extended and polished the same shade pink as my lipstick. Soon my toenails are done to match, a look at all of this and I again close my eyes, hoping that when I reopen them all of this will be just a dream. Of course, there is no such luck a cute adult female baby, although a quite a bit larger than a normal baby is the only image in my reflection. Okay a lot larger than a regular baby, but cute though so I am told. Mom shows back up, packages in each of her arms, I am sure more humiliation for her new baby daughter.
A new diaper is put on me, by now I really needed to pee, but I had already figured out that I would have to use my diaper. A pair of plastic panties is slid over them, then a girly dress is added to finish the look. She checked over what they had done, then asked if they could handle one more treatment. She conferred with the tech doing most of the work, a smile coming to the techs face. She left the room and came back with two forms that she applied to my lower legs. The straps holding them on, fit securely holding my feet en pointe. I wondered what this had to do about being a baby, but couldn’t figure out any connection. Two shots one in each leg and I was ready to go. The forms would stay on, to be taken off later after the shot had done its job.
Sis wheeled in a stroller, another product of dad’s imagination and skill. I was helped into it and we were off. I was wheeled out to the car, then Sis again helped me into the car seat. Our apparent destination is home, I was glad all of the crap was over for at least another day. Back into the stroller and wheeled into the house. My bedroom was upstairs and I wondered how that was going to work now with the braces on my legs. While I was at the salon, everybody else was quite busy, now I am pushed to the guest bedroom, my apparent new home. As we entered I was shocked, the whole bedroom had been converted to a nursery, for the new baby, me. My head swiveled around trying to see what all had been done to the room. The whole room was full of baby furniture, a crib, a changing table, a play pen the most notable pieces.
There were mobiles hanging from the ceiling, bookcases filled with toys and dolls, and an open front dresser loaded with diapers and elastic panties. Sis helped me up from the stroller and into the crib, then attached a strap to secure me in the laid down position. I tried to whisper to her that I needed to use the rest room, but a smile and her pushing on my belly only caused me to pee in the diaper. Some help there Sis.
Mom asked me if I enjoyed my day, I was sure it was a rhetorical question, she wasn’t expecting an answer. She had something in her hand, and then asked me to open my mouth. I reluctantly did so and she grabbed my tongue with a pair of tongs and snapped something around it. It expanded behind my teeth as she twisted it, locking my tongue securely in its grip and I was no longer able to remove it from my mouth. I tried to say something but no intelligent words were possible. Only guttural sounds escaped my lips. Mom smiled and told me that all my nourishment was to be delivered by a bottle, eating solid foods is now impossible only liquids from now on. Your bed time is seven each evening, tomorrow we start filming our baby enjoying her new home and furniture. By tomorrow night you will be a star on the internet and helping the family to financial independence.
“Maybe your recent actions were not the wisest choice, but it will work out in the end. Let’s face it, being a baby is the only job you can perform any more. You are well qualified, wearing diapers from now on, cute as can be, and dressed appropriately for your new job. Maybe school was not the right choice for you, now you can cry and babble all you want, being a baby is so easy, your destiny now assured.”
I so wanted to talk to her to express my sorrow for my stupid actions and plead for mercy, but the only sounds out of my mouth were a baby babbling about nothing. Then when I least expected it a baby bottle was shoved into my mouth, my source of nourishment for the future. Just like the pacifier I started sucking, the warm milk trickling down my throat filling my stomach.
When the bottle was emptied, I was helped onto Mom’s lap and she held me tenderly, patting my back until I burped. I could get used to the holding and hugging real quick. The warm milk made me sleepy, so I was helped back into the crib and strapped in. A mobile above the crib was turned on, the cute little teddy bears dancing above my head, keeping my eyes busy until I closed them and drifted off into slumber land. I do remember sucking on the pacifier after finishing the bottle, something about the action making me content and relaxed.
Waking up to a wet cold diaper is far from enjoyable, but seems to be my future. I tried to get somebody’s attention, but the few noises escaping my mouth were far from attention getting. I laid there watching the mobile spin above me, lost in thought. I now deeply regretted my past actions, way too late to change anything, my parents now convinced this is all I am capable of. Maybe they are right, even now my mind only focused on my teddy bears spinning above me and when my next bottle might appear. Oh and my cold wet diaper, that has to come first.
When I pooped in my diaper and the smell wafted towards my nose, I began to get frantic. Someone needs to help me, I might drown in my own urine and poop. I heard some footsteps, the door opening and Sis wrinkling her nose at my smell. I was helped over to the changing table a strap over my stomach to keep me from falling off. I was cleaned, the wet cold baby wipes actually feeling good. There is nothing worse than warm poop to deal with, believe me. A new diaper, then some plastic panties to keep me from leaking. I was moved to the playpen, laid in the middle of it and several dolls were added to keep me occupied. I had no intention of playing with them, a bit of rebellion coming to the forefront. That was quickly dispelled as Sis placed one in my hands and made to hug it. It felt good, so I held it tight looking it right in the eyes. As if the doll could respond I tried to talk to it, the gibberish coming out of my mouth probably only understood by my dolly friend.
I came to the realization a few moments later that I was being videotaped. I looked across the room to see Sis with her camera taking in my conversation with Dolly. I blushed red, what they had told me was going to happen is already underway. I wonder what my friends will say when they see the video on the internet. Maybe if I am confined to my nursery I will never have to hear the remarks. I went back to playing with my doll, something to keep me from thinking about my situation. A couple of minutes later I realized I was having fun, a simple endeavor that made me feel good.
A new bottle was brought to me and I eagerly consumed its contents. Then after being strapped into my crib I was off to dreamland again. I don’t remember the specific dreams, but had a warm cared for feeling when I woke up. Also another wet cold diaper. I started crying, the only way I had to communicate my distress. Mom came this time, cleaning me up and changing my diaper. She used an extra thick diaper this time, telling me that would keep me dryer, so I would not have to be changed as much. She also took off the forms on my lower legs and helped me to stand on the mattress. I soon found out what the forms did. I could no longer stand on my feet, the pain in my calves putting me on my butt quickly. A few new tears appeared, I was so stupid in my actions, now I am paying for it in spades.
Mom did hold me again on her lap, patting my back until I burped. On the way to my playpen she stopped at a mirror, to show me what I looked like now. I blinked my eyes not believing the image I saw. With the makeup and hair style there was no doubt of my gender. As I was placed down in the playpen, she kissed my cheek, you are so good Babykins. Apparently that is my new name. Robert is no longer, replaced by a cute female baby, that baby is now me, Babykins.
The mobile was turned on and as I watched the teddy bears spinning overhead I slipped off into dreamland again. I had heard mother in the past tell her oldest daughter that is all babies do, drink their bottle, wet and poop their diapers and sleep. I seemed to be doing good at all three, just like a baby.
The next few weeks were very intense as I was constantly in the lens of the camera, everything I did recorded for internet posting. The furniture was there, but now also the clothes Mom was making and the things that Sis was buying for resale. I had pacifiers, hair barrettes, mittens, baby booties, and just about anything else that was related to an infant on me at one time or another. It wouldn’t have been as bad if this was limited to the daytime hours, but the ones I modeled were mine to be used in my care and dressing. So as I was made ready for bed, a couple of barrettes were placed in my hair, a pair of baby booties on my feet and a pacifier in my mouth was the standard for my sleep time.
It was several weeks later when Mom came into the nursery to have a talk with me. She wanted to know if I was enjoying the life of a baby, or if I missed all the things I used to do. I listened to her and took a few minutes to think of my answer. In the mean time she had removed my mouthpiece, which she did once a week, to let me answer her without any hindrance. I guess I did miss my male life some, although looking back, it seemed fake and restricting. As a baby I had no worries, other than somebody to get my bottle and change my diaper. Usually a few wails and someone would be at my side to tend to me. I didn’t really miss solid food, my formula was quite tasty and kept me feeling full and content. Also was responsible for making all my poop runny and smelly.
My first words were garbled, since I seldom used my voice other than crying to get the needed attention. I looked up at Mom then put my hands up to get her to pick me up. She did smiling as she set me on her hip. I leaned over and kissed her cheek, then she returned the kiss on the end of my nose. I giggled a little, then laid my head on her shoulder.
“I am really sorry for what I have done in the past, if I am helping the family being your baby I am fine with the life. I liked to be handled, cuddled and loved. A good feeling spreading through me when I am. It is nice to not worry about things, knowing someone will take care of me. I am not sure about later in life, it is not fair for you to have to take care of me, but I do love you and want to be your cute baby forever.” I reached for the mouthpiece with my mittened hands wanting it put back in, then cuddled in her arms with my head on her shoulder.
I apparently fell asleep, the next thing I remember is waking in my crib, my teddy bears swirling above me. My diaper was wet again, I don’t remember going to the bathroom this much before my introduction to babyhood. I heard the door open and looked to see who was going to change my diaper this time.
If the mouthpiece would have allowed it I am sure my mouth would be wide open, Jennifer my former girlfriend was standing there trying hard to contain her giggles. She walked over to get a closer look, then reached down into the crib and straightened one of my pigtails. I got tickled, causing me to babble that much more. She reached her finger inside the edge of my diaper checking to see how wet I was.
“Oh, I can see baby is wet, don’t worry I will get you changed and then we can play together.” I gave her a funny look wondering about what she was talking about. Play together, this does not sound like the Jennifer I know.
I should say ex-girlfriend. I dated her a few times then we decided to make it boyfriend and girlfriend. That worked for a couple of weeks until I was caught dating another female. Nothing was said at the time she caught me, but it was only a few days later when she informed me it was over. What was worse when she caught me I was kissing my date with a lot of tongue, anybody could see it was not just a casual date. Actually it was my second date with the girl, and we had progressed farther than kissing. No outright sex, but a thorough exploration of each other’s bodies had already been carried out on the first date.
Jennifer took a lot of pleasure in changing my diaper, made a lot of comments about how cute I was and found the frilliest dress to slip onto me after she had the diaper and plastic panties in place. She got me up on her lap, then stuck the nipple of a baby bottle in my mouth. It wasn’t my regular formula but some type of juice. She waited patiently while I finished the bottle, then burped me. Then I was sat down on the floor and handed one of my dolls to play with. I felt a brush going through my hair, then her taking it and braiding it into two distinct braids pigtail style. Of course, ribbons on the ends of the braids, then followed by some lipstick on my lips. Another pacifier was put in my mouth and she cuddled me to her chest. I was held tenderly for quite some time, her leaning over every once in a while to kiss my cheek or forehead. Finally I was placed back in my crib strapped in and she left the room. I could hear her talking to Mom, but not what was said. As usual I drifted off, visions of teddy bears dancing above me.
A kiss on the nose awoke me, Jennifer’s face just inches from it. I had wet my diaper as usual, so she changed me, taking extra time to clean me and powder me. Another bottle, then the pacifier was inserted. I was getting sleepy, there must be something in the milk, one bottle and I am out like a light. I thought I heard her tell me that I was going to school with her, so that I could be part of their home economics classes in taking care of a baby. Surely Mom would not do that to me, exposed to all of my old friends as a baby.
It was a week later when Jennifer appeared early, changing my diaper and slipping one of my frilliest dresses on me. Mittens on my hands, booties on my feet and I was placed in one of Dad’s strollers. Oh gawd she is going to take me to school. I tried to get out of the stroller, but she already had me strapped in. With the mittens on my hands there was no way for me to undo the strap, so I reverted to baby talk. I cried, babbled and sobbed trying to get her attention. This can’t be happening to me. I repeated that over and over till we entered the gates of the school. I was a mess, wet from all the crying and of course wet from using my diaper. I no longer had to think about peeing in my diaper, it just happened, not a good sign for the future if I ever get to return to my male existence. Of course a baby, even a larger than normal one drew a lot of attention. The girls in particular were leaning over the stroller making faces at me and touching my nose. I even got a few kisses on the cheek.
One guy who was with his girlfriend looked at me and made a nasty remark. His girlfriend slapped him so hard, I think I could feel the impact. Then apparently kicked him in the shins in an equally vicious manner. I heard her say if he opened his mouth one more time she will tell the whole school his secret. I never saw him again that day.
I was taken to the home economics class, where I was introduced to all the girls in the first period. The rest of the day was a blur. I was changed, bathed, fed, burped, and played with all day long, each new class of girls getting to do all of the above. I missed my naps, so by late afternoon I was grouchy and whiney. Did I mention that Dad had brought a complete set of baby furniture to the school for the girls to use? At lunch though I panicked, I was put into my stroller, then paraded around the school, all of my former classmates being able to see what I had become. There was some laughing, but I think a lot of the males came to the realization if they goofed off like I did, this also could be their fate. A very sobering fact for most of them. I was laughed at but no comments were made to me directly. The home economics teacher, Ms. Pepperdine thanked me for coming today, and informed me I would be here every other Wednesday to help the girls learn to take care of babies. Since I could not say anything, I just babbled some more, not exactly what I wanted to hear, but nothing I could do to change things. I so wish I could start over, the things I did getting me in this position, with absolutely no future except more of the same. Then I realized I was starting life over, this time as a baby.
I was never so glad to see our house when Jennifer pushed me up to the front porch. If I can just talk to Mom about being used as a baby at the school, surely she will have a little sympathy for me. So who comes out our front door to greet me, dear old Mom. She smiled asking me if I enjoyed my day at school. “Just think seeing all your old friends and them getting to play with you, surely you couldn’t want anything better than that.”
Nope Mom is not going to save me from future embarrassment. I imagine if I ever get out of the baby phase I will have learned my lesson, Mom was going to make sure of that. Now though I had been wondering if the baby thing would ever end. It has been four months, and I am more committed to the lifestyle than before. For one thing I have no control of my peeing and pooping that was lost a couple of months ago. I can’t walk, if allowed out of my crib or play pen, my only mode of moving is too crawl. I seldom use my voice now, the contraption in my mouth allowing only babbling, the few times it is removed when I am checked on, forming a word to speak is almost impossible. I am content, most of my needs are handled and I do love my dollies and teddy bears often spending time talking to them in my baby language. I still hate baby food from a jar, but every few days my dislikes are ignored and I am forced to eat at least three jars of the crap.
On a Monday I noticed all of my family hustling around the house, getting dressed and preparing for something special. Then Mom and Jennifer descended on me and I was bathed, diapered, and dressed in a very colorful baby dress. Booties were placed on my feet and my mittens were slipped on my hands. Some lipstick and I was carried out to the car and put in my car seat, Dad doing the honors. He drove us to an area behind the mall and I was beginning to get worried, this I think is the area where the salon that I had been taken too initially was located. We did drive past the salon, I had been biting down on my pacifier until we went past the place.
He pulled into a parking lot, came around and removed me from the car seat and put me in the stroller which they had brought along. Pushed into a building, the sign behind the counter said it was Becky’s daycare. I almost bite through the pacifier, they are going to leave me in a daycare as they do whatever there have to do. This just can’t be happening. Mom talked to the lady at the counter giving her my bag of diapers, formula and a change of clothes. Another lady was already taking hold of the stroller and preparing to take me to the back. I hand my arms up wiggling them back and forth wanting to be picked up desperately by Mom and not left here. Mom leaned down, kissed me on the nose and told me to be a good baby. Then turned and left. I immediately started to cry, they left me with strangers, and have abandoned me. I wailed and wailed, finally one of the ladies found one of my bottles in my bag and shoved it in my mouth. I was still not happy, but a bottle to comfort me a little was better than nothing.
I was removed from my stroller and placed in a crib, the waist strap tightened to make sure I wouldn’t be going anywhere and a mobile turned on above my head. It wasn’t my teddy bears but I was soon asleep none the less.
A little while later a couple of teenagers came to check on me, found a soaked diaper and proceeded to change me. They talked about me, wondering how I ended up as a baby, changed my dress, brushed my hair, and then fed me another bottle. I got kissed and one of them leaned over, picked up my dress and blew on my stomach causing me to screech and babble away. I got kissed on the cheek and they left, the bottle of warm milk doing its usual and I was soon fast asleep.
I was so happy to see Dad come and get me to take me home. He carried me in his arms while I hung on to him with all of my strength. I was so happy when the car door closed and I could look out the window and see the daycare facility fade away. Even happier when he pulled into our drive. I never found out why I was left at the daycare facility, but every trip in the car caused tremors of fear until something other than the daycare came into focus.
I spent all of my time as a babbling baby, always diapers, baby bottles and confined to a crib or play pen. Jennifer turned out to be a regular fixture around the house, changing my diapers, feeding me my bottle and playing with me. I could never figure out her fascination with me, but I did appreciate her company. Life as a baby can be lonely, the teddy bears and dolls I played with were alright but lacked something personality wise.
I was already an internet sensation, having a presence in all of the social media sites. Of course other than my pictures and videos I had no part in the conversations or comments left for me. Sis handling all of that for her baby sister.
One day a few weeks later there was general turmoil in the house, things were moved and new things added here and there. Jennifer took me for a stroll around the neighborhood in my stroller, then to the park for a while. It was several hours later when we returned, my main concern was my flooded diaper. Behind Dad’s shop was a separate apartment, probably a servants quarters when the house was first built. That is where Jennifer headed when we entered the yard. It looked quite a bit different than the last time I remembered seeing it. As a child I played in the apartment, somewhere to play on a rainy day. Mom was standing there as she opened the front door so Jennifer could push the stroller inside. I was taken out of the stroller and carried into my new nursery, even Jennifer could carry me now since I had lost so much weight. It was still hard for her, but if she got me positioned right on her hip she could manage.
I looked around, my eyes wide with amazement. Just like my old nursery but even more feminine in appearance. No door to open and close just a mesh netting that could be closed trapping me in the room. With mittens on and unable to stand on my feet I would be limited to this room until taken out. New baby furniture all with a pinkish finish to the wood, fitting in with the new décor. There was a rocker over in the corner that Jennifer eased her body into, then called me over. I crawled over and was then helped up onto her lap.
She fussed with her top, then laid a portion of it down unveiling her breast. I looked up at her, swallowed then leaned over and put my lips around her nipple. Her nipples were swollen, a few sucks from my mouth and I was rewarded with warm milk. I eagerly attached myself to that nipple, determined to get every drop of milk from her. A little while later I was switched to the other nipple, more milk for my eager mouth. I fell asleep on her lap, a nipple still in my mouth. I felt myself being picked up, but not wanting to let go of my warm wet nipple. Jennifer eased a finger into my mouth and broke the connection and I was carried off and placed in a crib. I was so full I was instantly back asleep content for a while.
I never did end up talking again, Jennifer is my Mother now, seeing to my care and loving. I have baby sitters if needed, and of course all the latest baby furniture and clothing. I sometimes get to lay in bed with Jennifer, where she plays with me late into the night. One day I was told I might have a baby sister or brother someday, not really understanding what she was telling me. It would be nice if I had someone to play with other than Mommy.
I am happy, being a baby is probably the only thing I could do, and I am told I do it so well. I do make a contribution to the family, Jennifer has mentioned often that my share of the family profits will keep me in diapers forever. Just as long as I have the love of my Mommy, a baby’s life is what I want.
Story Complete For Now
© 2016 thru 2021 Fran Cesca Walker