tammie2

22. Something felt off as he waited for Amy to come in to change and feed him, but it took Chris a little time to figure out what it was. Despite all the obvious activity on the other side of the door, with suitcases slamming shut and hurried footsteps crossing the room, there was no conversation at all. Nothing. Not even a quick “hand me that” or “excuse me,” or hushed whispers. Perhaps each of the women was so absorbed in their own tasks that they remained focused to the exclusion of the others around them, but it still felt strange with each voice-free minute that passed. He began to worry that something was wrong. His concern grew deeper when Amy finally did enter the nursery. She remained silent as she fed Chris his bottle. He could see the dark circles under her eyes and the tension in her countenance as she drew her lips tight. Her eyes stared off at some other part of the room, unfocused and dull. She changed his diaper mechanically with none of the usual mommy-baby chatter. He would have welcomed even some of the humiliating teasing that he normally loathed. When the bellhop arrived to load their luggage onto the cart, he realized that no one remembered to feed him breakfast. Were it not for the strict prohibition on his saying a single word, he would have damned the consequences and asked what was going on. Any number of scenarios played out in his mind, none of them good. Amy’s mother took control of Chris’s stroller as the group walked down the path in the direction of the resort’s office, then veered off toward the parking lot while the three sisters went to check out. He was shocked to see his car seat had been moved into Nana’s car with his fully stocked diaper bag sitting on the seat next to it. He scanned her face for clues as she strapped and locked him in, not even waiting for the other women to return before starting the car and heading toward the exit. She finally broke the silence the moment the car exited the front gate. “You don’t need to be concerned, Kristie,” she told him. “No one died. Your mommy and aunties got into a discussion last night that turned a bit animated and lasted most of the night without a resolution. They plan to continue the conversation during the car ride home. Grown-up stuff that’s best spoken outside the presence of someone your age. Mommy will join you at home later, sweetie.” Her words did little to comfort Chris but clearly nothing more would be forthcoming, so he settled back into his seat to focus on his own, ongoing internal discussion with himself. If he hated the treatment he’d received since that first night he was put into a diaper, why didn’t he put up more of a resistance? It wasn’t enough that he didn’t want to hurt Amy’s feelings, or that this was the best way to be supportive of her emotions. At some point it all crossed a line that should have been the last straw, yet he did nothing or only offered token resistance. In retrospect, he could identify several key moments where any rational man would have said “enough,” regardless of the consequences. Why was he so passive? As the miles and minutes passed and he considered the situation from every conceivable angle, he always ended up with the same conclusion. The unanswered question, then, became what to do about it moving forward. And he couldn’t answer that alone. Once home, Nana appeared distracted and nervously looked at her watch with increasing frequency. She did manage to stay focused enough to change and feed Chris before securing him in the playpen. Chris’s concept of time was skewed when he was babified, without any watch, clock, or phone to assist, but he guessed they’d been back for around two hours before Amy arrived. She froze inside the door and stared at Chris with sad eyes until her mother led her into the kitchen. Their voices were indistinguishable and muffled, leaving Chris’s imagination to again dart into unpleasant arenas. Time crawled until the pair of women reentered the living room, with Nana exiting shortly thereafter, but not before giving Amy a hug and what appeared to be a short pep talk. Chris watched with trepidation as Amy walked in his direction before opening the gate of the playpen and extending her hand toward him. He began to crawl toward her but stopped short when she spoke to him for the first time all day. “No, please stand up and walk, and join me on the couch,” she told him. “I need to speak with Chris, not Kristie.” Chris wobbled across the room and lowered himself next to her, but not before she spread a waterproof pad on his side. “Mom said she didn’t discuss anything with you, but you’ve got a good sense of observation so I’m sure you detected a tension in the air among the grownups…I mean the other adults. I’m going to do the best I can to summarize long hours of conversation and debate, and I know you’ll have questions, but please let me finish without interruption because this is difficult for me. Then you’ll have a chance to talk. In fact, I’ll need you to talk. For Chris to talk. “It started last night with Lily. Maybe she had a little too much to drink, or maybe she just wanted to provoke me like siblings do, or maybe she genuinely started to have some concerns. I don’t remember her exact words and it doesn’t really matter what her motivation was, but in essence she challenged my treatment of you—our treatment of you—and suggested that we’d taken things too far to protect me from my ‘inner demons,’ which were her precise words. That maybe we needed to step back and discuss whether you were really a willing participant down your regressive path. Whether we crossed a line.” Chris winced as he heard his own phrasing coming out of her mouth. “I’ll spare you the details for now, but our conclusion was that in an effort to help me, my sisters and I lost sight of what was best for you or even what’s best for us as a couple. Now, that doesn’t mean that you’re blameless in all of this, because you dealt with your own guilt at not finding the magic solution to pull me out of my depression by just complying with everything I did and even volunteered to have Lily make you incontinent of your own accord. We talked at length about whether it would have made any difference if you’d resisted but never agreed upon an answer. I want to hear from you on that. “But first, I want to apologize, Chris. The last week at the resort, and much of what led up to that, must have been hell for you. And you put up with it, went along with it, because of me. And I love you for that. And to be honest, I don’t remember the last time I was so happy. But I need you to put aside your hesitancy to be upfront with me and talk about how you honestly, truly feel about where we are now and how we got here.” Chris paused a long time before answering, unsure what he would say. These were the very questions that he’d been pondering for longer than one night and morning and he began to doubt if the answer he’d formulated represented his true feelings, or if he was still bending to Amy’s will. Beyond that, it’s one thing to create an answer in your mind and quite another to verbalize it. Amy’s penetrating gaze into his eyes, though, demanded that he say something. He’d have to wing it and hope something meaningful eventually stumbled out of his mouth. He’d have to be careful, though. It was clear that Lily hadn’t confessed that the surgery that made him incontinent wasn’t his own idea and he didn’t think it would be a good idea to throw Amy’s sister under the bus. Admitting that might also erase all the goodwill he’d scored with Amy when she thought he’d asked for it himself. “The best answer I can give you, Mommy, err, Amy, is that I honestly don’t know. I’ve been confused about everything that’s been happening since the beginning, but especially my own behavior. I’ve never been one to stand up to people, you know that, but that doesn’t mean I’m a complete doormat to the point of allowing everyone to step all over me. At some point when people push me too far I push back, or at least hold up a stop sign. At the very least voice my objections before letting them proceed anyway. I recognize I didn’t do that here. Maybe at least a part of me liked what we were doing.” Chris startled himself with the words that came out of his mouth. He’d kind of come to that conclusion earlier that morning but saying it out loud made it seem more real. He searched Amy’s face for her reaction and might have seen the sides of her mouth upturn slightly, but he wasn’t sure. In for a penny, he thought, and continued on. “At least that’s one possibility that I, or we, need to explore further. One thing I can tell you is that I miss my adult life, but if we went cold turkey and gave up all of this, the diapers and the babying, I think I’d miss that too. Everyone, from complete strangers to your sisters and even you, treat me differently when I’m Kristie. For the first time in my life I felt totally accepted and unconditionally loved, and at times kind of got pleasure from being the center of attention even if it was having a dirty diaper changed in public. I saw and felt first-hand what the word “affection” means. Please don’t take that the wrong way. Before all of this started, I know you loved me and I want that relationship back. But when we were Mommy-baby, it was different. Not better or worse, just different, and I liked it both ways. I want it both ways. So I guess the question I still haven’t answered for myself is how to make that happen. There have to be limits, whether it be actions, or duration, but I think it’ll take time to admit to myself what I accept and what I don’t. For example, I’m open to discussing being your wife or girlfriend as we move forward, but have a billion questions. So maybe what I’m saying is that everything’s on the table but whatever path we go down has to be taken together. You can continue as the dominant partner and make most of the decisions, but within the framework that the bigger ones have to be joint and that all along the way we stop once in a while to evaluate where we are and where we want to go. I don’t want to give up being your baby, but I don’t want Chris as an adult to disappear either.” Chris stopped to take a breath, only to hear a loud ‘blart’ emit from his rear, immediately followed by a familiar odor, which sent Amy into a fit of giggles. “Chris,” she said softly as she took his hand. “You couldn’t have answered that better than you did. I know I went too far, but I confess I don’t have any regrets at bringing out the infant in you or in any of the treatment, but understand that whatever journey we have ahead of us needs to be a democracy, not an authoritarian rule. To some extent, anyway. I love you as Baby Kristie but realize now I also want grownup Chris in my life. Although,” she grinned as she plugged her nose, “we have to face the fact that even adult Chris is a few years away from being potty trained. C’mon, baby, let’s get that toxic diaper changed, get something to eat, then we can spend the day in bed talking.” Amy leaned over and pulled Chris’s head to her, where to couple held a kiss for a long, long time, before she took his hand and led him upstairs to, in more than one way, clear the air. The end

21. Each day of the trip was a struggle. In some ways it was monotonous, as the highlights of a baby’s day involve being changed out of nasty diapers and mealtimes of unpalatable mush and bottles of who knows what, neither of which merited excited anticipation. He was left in Anne’s care for at least part of each day, even when Katie wasn’t, and she continued to taunt him within the restriction of treating him as a real baby, pre-wetting each diaper she taped on him when they were alone and several times adding her own “girl juice” to his bottles. At least once or twice each day he was brought to the day care center, even if just to be breastfed. The routine became so boring he yearned for some sort of excitement to enliven his day, but he spent hours puzzling over what form that would take that wouldn’t involve extreme embarrassment on his part. The contradictory desires of remaining as anonymous as possible and wanting something to happen to break up his day muddled his thoughts. Before coming to the resort, he feared being exposed to a large number of strangers and having to endure their looks and comments of curiosity, amusement, or distain. That never happened, which should have been a relief. But the fact that he’d been fed, changed, and paraded around in front of hundreds of women, none of whom showed any sign that he was anything but an ordinary baby, bothered him, and the fact that it bothered him annoyed him even more. Was it better to have his adult self acknowledged beneath his dirty diapers and frilly dresses even if it meant being humiliated or to be treated as if he’d lost all claim to being an adult and was now perceived as nothing more than a true infant in every respect? And another thought niggled at the periphery of his mind. Virtually everyone he interacted with at the resort, whether strangers or the women at the daycare center, were thrilled to see him and often showered him with complements and affection, a reaction that never happened to him as an adult. What did it mean that their attitudes toward him gave him a least a brief feeling of happiness? He shuddered at what the answer might reveal about himself, and pushed the thought to the depths of his brain. As the week drew near its end, he was no closer to any answers and his mind shifted to wondering how his home life might change once they returned. Was Amy so used to his full-time infantile status that she’d insist it continue? That would be a problem. He’d still been allowed some of his adult status even after the unfortunate surgery that rendered him incontinent, although that had begun to be eroded slightly with mild incidents of public exposure and the women of the family losing any modesty about going topless in his presence or using the toilet while he was in the tub. Another question to ponder: How much will other people’s perception of him affect how he sees himself? Put in the context of his increasing failure to know that he’d wet himself, it was a worrisome issue. It was easy to lose track of time when every day was like every other day and naps and nighttime sleep ran together in his mind. It was only when he overheard Amy and Lily talking about packing up the car the next morning that he knew that their time here was coming to an end. “Are we going to bring the girls to tonight’s farewell bash on the beach?” Beth asked her sisters. “It might be nice to all be together for our last night even if it means keeping them up past their bedtime.” “And the other guests might want one more chance to interact with Kristie,” Lily added. “You know that several asked about getting a picture with her.” She chuckled. “Probably simply because she’s so darn cute and the outfits you designed for her are to die for, but maybe also as a not-so-subtle threat to their men back home.” “I don’t see why not,” Amy said. “It might help to have our babies there to keep us from any temptations with all those scantily clad or naked nymphettes that’ll be there. I’ve heard it gets pretty wild sometimes.” The three sisters exchanged glances before dissolving into a fit of giggles. “I’m going to pass and order room service,” their mother told them. “So if they cramp your style and you need to bring them back to the room, I’ll be happy to watch them.” Her daughters laughed even harder. Anna dropped by to say her farewells then stayed to put makeup on Kristie that made her look like a doll, finishing up by applying a light pink nail polish to her fingers and toes, to the women’s delight. Amy pulled out a calico dress and matching diaper cover for her with an identical dress for Katie, causing Beth to give her a huge hug. Checking to make sure they had enough supplies for the babies, they ventured out the door. The beach was already crowded when they arrived, and not a single guest had a stitch of clothing on. Several couples made out openly, causing Chris discomfort but mere curiosity among the adults. A naked disc jockey spun music at one end of the beach while food trucks serving tacos, wraps, seafood, and more lined the other end. The smell of the food drifted over to the area around where the family spread their towel. Chris knew it was too much to hope for that he'd be allowed to eat anything being served there. He’d seen Amy pack the diaper bag with two large bottles of formula and plastic containers of glop room service had delivered. Unlike his first trip to the beach, this time they had to squeeze in between other groups of women, so matter which direction Chris looked in there were large numbers of nude women pressed close together. Try as he did, it was impossible not to stare. Unfortunately, this didn’t go unnoticed. “I assume seeing all of these boobs is making you hungry,” Lily said loud enough for the women on either side of them to look their way and snicker. “We can take care of that.” She pulled out one of the oversized bottles from the diaper bag and fastened a drool bib around Chris’s neck. “Oooh, would you mind if we fed your baby?” a voice from nearby chimed in. “If it’s okay, we’d all like a chance.” Chris risked a glance over in the direction of the voice, where three young women, a blond, a brunette, and a redhead, eagerly looked at Lily in anticipation. He couldn’t help but notice how busty each of them was and prayed that Amy would intervene. She did. “Of course not,” Amy said. “Although she might be a little shy. Or a lot stinky,” she added with a giggle. “This stuff seems to encourage her to make a mess pretty quickly.” “Not a problem,” said the blond. “My niece is the same way. If that happens, I’d be happy to handle it for you.” As she spoke she took a cloth diaper Amy handed her and spread it over her arm, then helped her guide Chris over across her lap. Chris’s face was immediately buried deep into her cleavage and he could her titters from all around. The woman soon freed him enough to accept the bottle’s nipple into his mouth. “Such pretty nails,” one of the other women commented. “Does she always, um, look so girly and infantile when you guys go out?” “We’re still in the early stages of her transition,” Amy replied. Chris’s ears perked up. “So it’s been a slow process. But ultimately our goal is to erase the line between perception and reality, so that she won’t just look like a baby girl, she’ll be one. So to answer your question, yes I think the nail polish is here to stay, and when we get home we’ll be moving into more age-appropriate clothing around the clock, hair styling, and diaper changes will occur where convenient for me, not for her. And,” here Amy’s voice dropped to a whisper, “she’s already on a course of medications to move her in the right direction, gender-wise. She may never move up to training pants, but a training bra is definitely in the future.” Chris was shocked and stopped suckling, which the blond took as a sign to move him over to the waiting lap of the redhead. He barely took notice of the conversation that was going on around—and about—him, even as he was again passed to the brunette to finish feeding. He began sucking air and broke out of his trance just long enough to hear Amy say, “Really? All three of you? That’s only ten minutes away from our place.” The two groups by this time had merged together. Beth and the redhead took orders before heading off in the direction of the food trucks. Amy stuck a pacifier in Chris’s mouth and gave him some soft blocks to play with as she and the neighboring women continued their conversation. He tried to tune them out, afraid of what he might hear, but the words “babysit” and “playdate” got through anyway. When the food arrived and the women started to spread out plates and pass drinks around, everyone stopped and looked in Chris’s direction. He had no idea why until he saw Beth pull the back of Katie’s diaper back, sniff, and shake her head ‘no.’ Only then did her realize what he’d done. “I won’t let Miss Smelly Pants spoil your dinner,” Amy told the group. “I can take her back to our room to change her.” “Don’t be silly,” the blond said. “This is fun for me. My niece is potty training and I kind of regret seeing her get older. I insist. Give me Kristie’s food and I’ll take her against the wall over there to feed her her dinner, then I’ll change her myself.” Amy put up an obviously token resistance, and soon the blond woman was cradling him in her arms while she shoveled various colored mush into his mouth while she kept up a constant chatter of baby talk. Twice a blob of food fell onto her breast, and rather than scoop it up with the spoon she raised her boob to his mouth and had him lick it off. Every once in a while she’d manage to take a bite of her taco, giving him a short reprieve. “Can’t really taste my carne asado,” she told him with a smile. “Its flavor gets masked by the fumes coming from your rear. What do you say we take care of that diaper?” She laid Chris down on the beach towel, set his diaper cover off to the side, and got to work. She’d barely begun to untape him when her two friends joined her, one on each side of the dirty baby. The brunette took ribbing from the other two as she constantly turned her head away to gag as the cleaning process took place. “It looks so tiny,” she said as she helped clean his penis with a wipe. “No wonder she never said anything about having a baby of her own. I’m guessing it’s less embarrassing to have strange women clean poop off it than to expose it for the first time to a woman you’ve met on Tinder and expect to have sex with.” “If that was even possible,” the redhead added. “But I guess that’s moot now. She’s as sexless as any other baby, at least until her boobs come in.” She giggled at the image in her head. “That should be interesting for her mommy. I wonder if she’ll go through puberty.” “Well, she’s already wearing protection from all the nasty things coming out of her body,” the blond said as she grabbed the powder. “And like any other girl, has pretty much a lifetime of that ahead of her. Oh, look. The poor thing is crying.” Chris rejoined her family just as fireworks began appearing over the water. Pondering what he’d heard that night, he cuddled close to Amy and nuzzled his head on her shoulder. He was confused and his head was spinning. His initial reaction when he heard Amy’s plans for him was anger and resentment, but then he saw the pride and love in Amy’s eyes as she spoke. He should have been upset at having his diaper changed by three strangers and by their commentary as they wiped him clean, but he also felt their acceptance of his status—no, that wasn’t the right word, it was their affection, something he never felt from anyone other than Amy in his adult life. And there was that question again he’d tried to bury. He wanted to resist his treatment, he thought he wanted his adult life back, but did he really? Was it really all that wonderful? The next thing Chris knew, he awoke in his crib as the women scurried around in the next room to pack everything up to leave.

20. Moving from the fresh air and relative calm of the outdoor area of the resort into the reception area of the daycare was like being transported instantly into a totally different world. The walls were a blaze of primary colors with bright decals of building blocks, forests, and nursery rhyme characters. Ceiling fans did little to dissipate the stale odor of used diapers. Every inch of the floor was covered by spongy colored waterproof tiles. Soft lullabies played in the background, mingling with the crying of unseen babies and the shouts of toddlers. A smiling woman greeted the group from behind a desk covered in blue and green bins filled with forms. “Welcome!” she said enthusiastically, rising to greet the women. “Ms. Adams told us to expect you at some point, so we’ve already got most of the information we need to take in your two adorable girls. Just to confirm, neither is potty trained and both are still being bottle fed with some beginner solids, correct?” “Yes,” Amy responded as she and Beth scanned a paper thrust at them. “I do have one question. The materials we received aren’t really clear on your hours or how long we can leave the girls here.” “That one’s easy,” the woman replied happily. “We don’t have hours. We’re open 24/7. As long as you leave us with enough changing supplies and clothing, we’re good to go. Some parents choose to leave their children here for their entire stay, others will do a few hours here and there. Are either of you breast feeding? If so, our facility is set up for you to drop by to nurse or to pump at your convenience. We also have a wet-nurse on staff, but she’s only here during the daytime. If you want that option, just check the box down at the bottom there.” Lily and Beth giggled to see Amy reach over to check the box. It took a few minutes longer to discuss dietary needs and to transfer the diaper bags, but all too soon Chris watched as the women headed toward the door, chattering as to what they wanted for lunch. He longed for the days when he had a choice as well, or at the very least something he could chew. “Now, then,” the woman said, “let’s get the two of you settled. Ginger, could you please come out here and take one of these little ones back to the appropriate room? If they need additional help, are you free?” A young woman with dark red hair and freckles, wearing cartoon scrubs, appeared from the back room, smiling broadly as she approached the strollers. “I can have Alice cover for me in the toddler room,” she said, “I was hoping I’d get a chance to take care of this one. And just in time for lunch it appears.” She read a clipboard attached to Chris’s stroller as she pushed him past reception into the depths of the center. They passed a playroom with young children around kindergarten age running, climbing, jumping, and screaming. They passed another room with a small circle of preschoolers listening intently to a story. They passed a room of toddlers sitting in a row on plastic potty chairs. Chris expected to be pushed into that room, but they kept going. Finally they arrived at a closed door with a stork holding a bundle in its beak. Ginger opened it with an electronic key and pushed Chris inside. He was immediately assaulted with a wall of scents, most of them bad. Stinking diapers, spilled formula, and ammonia, mixed with sickly sweet ointment odors and the cloud of baby powder floating in the air. Surprisingly, he saw very few babies in the room. There were lines of cribs, a few couches, two playpens, and a kitchenette, but only one other infant that he could see. The ventilation in this room must be awful, he thought. “All right, then, let’s get you some lunch,” Ginger said sweetly as she unstrapped him from the stroller. “Crawl over to the highchair, sweetie.” As Chris crawled, he was surprised to feel his diaper hanging heavily toward the floor. He’d just been changed, hadn’t he? Wouldn’t he have known if he’d peed since then? He may be incontinent, but he thought he at least he had the awareness of an adult when he urinated. Lunch brought more awful smells and with it terrible tastes to match. The food in the restaurants was meant to impress guests, but apparently the opinion of anyone who couldn’t verbalize their distaste for the cuisine wasn’t considered important. For the first time he wondered if it affected the odor emanating from his diaper when it came back out, and was instantly embarrassed that such a thought even entered his mind. For her part, Ginger played the airplane into the hanger game, then switched to a train entering a tunnel, then sang little ditties about healthy girls needing healthy foods. Her overly dramatic gestures with the spoon distracted Chris enough that he was constantly taken by surprise when it eventually was pushed into his mouth. At first he used his tongue to push it right back out, but Ginger was right there to scrape it back in again, and it tasted worse the second time. By the time lunch was over, he thought he could feel the contents of his stomach jumping around looking for the fastest way to leave his body. Ginger wiped his face gently with a warm, wet washcloth before leading over to a couch and placing him over her lap. She produced an oversized bottle of cool purple juice which by comparison to the foods he’d just eaten was a pleasure to drink, although her whispering what a good girl she was to take her medicine so well disturbed him. The day’s events had worn him out and he was hoping this was where he could take a nap, both to rejuvenate and to get away from the world around him for a while, but there was one more surprise. Ginger slid out from under him but held his torso up off the cushions as another body took her place. This woman was slightly older, perhaps near thirty, and had a kind look as she gazed down at him. He began to close his eyes, but she pinched his cheek with a “not yet.” Opening his eyes back up, he was horrified as she lowered her blouse and revealed a mountainous breast, the end of its nipple dripping with milk. “Open up and stay awake, baby girl,” she cooed softly, “you have two boobs to empty.” Without another word, she slipped her nipple into his mouth and pulled him closer to her chest. Milk immediately began to dribble onto his tongue and within seconds he had to swallow or choke. She whispered “suck or auntie will spank” into his ear in a tone that would take no dissent. Drinking from her wasn’t the same as from a bottle and it took Chris time to figure out how to maximize the flow, but once he did it came fast and seemed endless. He wanted to scream that he couldn’t drink another drop when the flow slowed and the woman used a finger to pop the seal his mouth made around her. She turned him on his side, patting and rubbing his back, and was rewarded with a wet belch. His burp did little to clear more room and all he wanted was to be tucked into bed, but her other breast still needed to be drained. It took longer this time and he came close to throwing up there was so much. At some point he must have fallen asleep while he nursed, because the next thing he knew she was lifting him up and carrying him to a crib. Chris was uncomfortably full and couldn’t stop little belches as he was laid down for his nap. Ginger came back into view and placed a Velcro spit-up bib around his neck, then put her hand down inside the front of his diaper, rubbing it right up against his penis. “We should have changed her,” she said quietly to someone. “We may have to change this sheet later.” When Chris awoke, it was from a dream that he was floating in a swimming pool. The image wasn’t far off. Pee puddled in the rear of his diaper and spilled out onto the bed. He was pretty sure he’d soiled himself as well. He needed changing and he needed it now. When shuffling around making noise didn’t work, he tried to imitate the crying babies he’d heard earlier. That did bring Ginger around. “Wakey, wakey, stinky pants,” she said with a wide grin. “Does someone need to get all clean and dry?” Lying on the changing table, Chris realized that he’d been at the resort only about 24 hours, and this was the third complete stranger to change his diaper. His thoughts wandered to his life ahead for the next month, or six months, or year. How many times would he have to endure the humiliation of having his most private areas wiped down and scrutinized by women who not long ago would have looked upon him as a possible sexual partner, but now would see nothing but a drooling, poop-smeared baby in need of their care? Ginger monopolized him for the rest of the afternoon, playing baby games with him in the playpen, singing songs, making up stories to picture books and, no surprise, feeding him yet another bottle. She was using a baby comb to make small tufts that she would then snap bows on when Ms. Adams came to say that “his Mommy” would be by shortly to pick him up. Ginger sighed with disappointment. “You’d better come back again soon,” she told him as she put him into the stroller. The air got fresher the further they got away from the nursery room and Chris sighed with relief, not noticing that he’s just added a bit of a foul odor by peeing himself just as they arrived in the reception area at the same time Amy and Beth walked through the front door. “Kristie, baby!” Amy said with genuine enthusiasm as she leaned down to give him a kiss and hug, sighing with a “tsk, tsk” as she felt his diaper. “I’ll bet you’re ready for a bottle.” Chris’s eyes opened wide. It was the last thing he wanted or needed, but he kept quiet as he was pushed back out the door.

19. It was still dark when Chris woke up. Unlike some real babies such as Katie, who snored quietly nearby, he didn’t need twelve hours of sleep every night. He had a vague memory of someone feeding him a bottle during the night, so he wasn’t hungry yet, but whoever that was didn’t change him and his diaper had reached its limits. A quick check revealed that his onesie and the sheet were damp, so apparently it was already past capacity and had leaked. As far as he could tell he hadn’t pooped himself, but the ability to tell even that was diminishing by the day. He sat in dirty diapers for such extended periods that the odor seemed to sit inside his nose even when he wasn’t soiled, so his sense of smell wasn’t any help. Lying there wide awake without any idea of when someone would come to change him wasn’t the only annoyance. Only one day into their stay at the resort and he already felt like he’d descended into hell. His biggest desire less than 24 hours ago had been not to draw too much attention to himself and that had been achieved, but it was a pyrrhic victory. The fact that all of the women here reacted to him as if he were a true infant instead of a grown man being treated like one, and for the most part giving him no more than a passing glance, surprisingly made him feel worse. As if he had lost his adult identity and belonged in diapers, wearing baby clothes and being bottle fed with no chance of return. Eventually, Katie began to stir and make some noise, which brought Beth into the room. Maybe he needed to pay attention to the sounds she makes, mimic them, and condition Amy to respond in the same way. It was several minutes later before Amy appeared, of course with bottle in hand. As she climbed into the crib to feed him she cried out when her hand landed in the rather large wet spot, and instead helped lower him to the floor for his feed, calling out to Lily to notify housekeeping. When Chris finally finished the bottle, he was surprised when Amy tied a bib around his neck and produced a bowl of runny oatmeal with green vegetables stirred in. “Breakfast in the room today, baby,” she told him. “We want to get to the beach before it gets too hot.” She backed up her stated desire to save time by spooning mush into his mouth faster than he could swallow, with predictable results. One more bib into the hamper, covered in as much food as made it into his stomach. Amy led him to the playpen while everyone scurried to get ready to go. When Amy returned, she was in a revealing striped bikini which Chris recognized from a pool party they’d attended while they were still dating. He was enthralled with and turned on by it then, but now it saddened him to view it as her child instead of as her lover. In her hands she carried a pale pink and yellow one-piece suit with flower pedals scattered around it. “Isn’t this adorable?” she asked rhetorically. “You’ll be the talk of the beach.” As she fed his feet through the leg holes and pulled it up his body, she paused. “Oops. I should have changed you first. No big deal, any leaks will just look like you’d been in the water. Besides, we can change you there.” Chris cringed. He knew he stunk of pee and his bottom itched, but he’d prefer being stinky and itchy to being changed out in the open. It took all his restraint not to say something or somehow signal his displeasure. He feared the consequences of acting out more than any public diaper change. It still took several minutes to get out the door, with one dash back to the room to get a forgotten hat and extra sunscreen. They apparently made a wrong turn once but found the path to the beach and soon Chris could see the sand and water in the distance. The group unexpectedly stopped when they reached the edge of the sand, where a large sign announced they were at the right place. “Private Beach Reserved for Guests of the Resort Only,” it announced, for which Chris was grateful. No outsiders would see him this way. His relief was short lived when he heard Beth titter, and he read a second notice posted beneath the first. “Clothing Optional,” it said. “Sorry, I’m going to the pool,” the women’s mom announced. “No one wants to see this old body.” Beth agreed to accompany her, leaving Amy, Lily, and Chris to forge ahead. They were forced to abandon the stroller and Amy allowed Chris to waddle beside her as long as he held her hand. As usual, Chris kept his eyes down to avoid seeing the stares he was used to suffering. “I see one umbrella nobody’s using,” Lily said, leading them further down the beach. Only after Amy spread out a couple of beach towels in the shade and lowered Chris to the ground did he dare look up. Despite having read the sign, he wasn’t ready for what he saw. There may have been twenty or thirty women on the beach and every one was topless, with most having forgone their bottoms as well. Just a few feet on either side of them were naked women sunning themselves or reading a book while nursing a drink. “When in Rome...” Lily said, unhooking her top and letting it fall to the sand while she lowered her bottoms. Amy shrugged her shoulders and did the same. Chris was beyond uneasy. He hadn’t seen Amy unclothed in forever, and with his sister-in-law sitting at his side completely nude, he didn’t know where to focus his eyes. In every direction were women in the buff. That Lily didn’t hesitate to strip down in his presence again made him aware of how the women had begun to view him. As a baby girl, not a man in any sense of the word. His train of thought was broken by a voice coming from their left. “She’s so cute, what’s her name?” Chris tried to find the source of the voice without staring but even a quick peek was enough. The woman looked to be in her early twenties, with blond hair and freckles, and a body to die for. And he could see all of it. To his horror, she pulled her lounge chair closer directly in his line of sight as the women began to chat. He tried to close his eyes and considered pretending to nap, but Amy plopped a plastic pail and shovel in front of him, expecting him to engage himself with the baby toys. In doing so, there was no way to avoid clear visions of the three women surrounding him. A few minutes later, he saw all three women freeze still for a moment and look directly at him. A telltale odor followed seconds later. His worst nightmare was coming true. He’d dirtied himself in front of one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, not to mention his naked wife and her equally nude sister. And there was nowhere to hide. “I’m so sorry,” Amy said. “Do you know where the restroom is?” “Don’t be silly,” the stranger, who identified herself as Gretchen, responded. “You can change her right here, I don’t mind. I babysat myself through college and watch my niece all the time. A stinky diaper doesn’t bother me, in fact I’d be happy to help.” Chris waited to hear Amy decline her offer, but instead felt himself being gently lowered back onto the towel. Amy unzipped the ever-present diaper bag while Gretchen positioned herself between Chris’s legs, her breasts swinging gently inches from his face. He was so distracted that he didn’t see the pacifier coming until Amy pushed it between his lips. Lily and Amy lowered one shoulder of the swimsuit each, allowing Gretchen to pull it off the rest of the way. “Phew,” she said, laughing as she turned her head, “she did a number on this diaper. I think we’ll need a lot of wipes.” And she did. Eventually all three women contributed to the cleanup, although Gretchen handled his more private areas herself and took extra time to make sure they were clean. When she was done, she took two more wipes to clean her hands. “I think after all that, we deserve a drink,” she said smiling as she signaled the resort employee over. “What will you have?” Soon all three women were relaxing and having the time of their lives getting to know each other while imbibing tropical drinks and nibbling on nachos. The beach began to get more crowded. Chris noticed that there were no other children among the beachgoers. “Would you like to go in for a swim?” Gretchen asked the other women. “I can watch Kristie.” Chris was offended by how quickly and enthusiastically they accepted the offer, and he watched their naked bottoms disappear into the water. He apparently was too obvious in his distress. “Don’t worry, little one, Mommy will be back soon,” Gretchen soothed. “No need to cry. Here, maybe a bottle will be just what baby needs.” She reached into the side pocket of his diaper bag and pulled out a bottle full of formula. “No need to warm this up today,” she said to herself. She moved behind Chris to have a view of the beach while she positioned him across her lap. As she removed his pacifier, her nipple grazed his lips. “Uh hu, baby, not that one,” she said gently as she placed the bottle’s nipple in his mouth. Chris’s face was nuzzled into her exposed boob and he knew that inches away from his diapered bottom was her naked crotch. If ever there was a situation for him to respond down there, this was it, but other than the usual internal tingle, he could tell nothing was happening. Inside, he cursed Lily. He was still nursing when Amy and Lily returned. They were unphased by his being fed by this woman with nothing to cover her, again making him feel emasculated. After another round of drinks, they decided they’d had enough sun and sand and began gathering up their belongings, exchanging contact information with Gretchen, who leaned down to Chris, giving him a peck on the forehead as she said “Bye bye.” Coincidentally, they arrived back at the room at the same time as Beth, their mom, and Katie, who was extremely fussy. “She needs lunch and a nap,” Beth told the group. “But I’m starving too. Should we call Anna and go get a real meal?” “No need,” Lily replied. “Let’s restock the diaper bags and turn right back around. We can drop the girls off at the daycare center where they can be fed and put down for a nap. We can be at a table in the restaurant in ten minutes.” And so they did.

18. Anna placed Chris in the playpen while she attended to preparing his bottle. Minutes later she arranged pillows in his crib, balancing the large baby bottle Amy had brought from home against the bars while she guided him up and in. As he laid across her lap, head propped up with a pillow, Anna spread an oversized burp cloth on his chest and under his chin. Chris noted her efficiency, and within minutes after the rest of the family left to explore he was drinking awful-tasting formula in a crib. He had to bend his knees in order to fit as he nursed. “Good girl, Kristie,” Anna cooed as he drank. “You need to get all your vitamins in order to grow up tall and healthy. I’m not sure it’ll help certain parts of you grow, though.” She hummed and kept her eyes focused on him as the minutes ticked by. Eventually he began to suck air. As much as he wanted to resist revealing that he actually needed a nap, a wide yawn escaped his mouth. “Not yet, baby,” Anna said softly. “You have one more to go.” She crossed the room to a mini-fridge and, without rinsing out the bottle, refilled it with juice. “Two bottles each time to make sure baby stays wet,” she said as she repositioned herself, “one of formula and the other with prune juice, to support healthy bowels.” The taste of prunes mixed with the small amount of formula left over made Chris want to gag, but he also detected a faint medicinal taste and wondered if Anna had supplemented the juice. Above all, the possible effect of prunes on his digestive system worried him. He remembered his mother using prune juice a couple of times when he was young when she thought he might be constipated, and the results were disgusting and long-lasting. He couldn’t imagine why anyone who’d be in charge of changing his dirty diapers would encourage such a thing. He struggled to finish but Anna rose the bottle straight up into the air, causing the flow to increase. It was either swallow or choke to death and he chose the former. The last couple of swallows also confirmed that it wasn’t just prune juice. What she’d added, though, he could only guess. By this time, he could barely keep his eyes open. Anna extracted herself from the crib, readjusted Chris’s head, and pulled up the bars until they locked with a solid click. She reached over to push a button on the mobile, and the hushed sound of music filled the room as soft pink bunnies began to circle above his head. She pulled the curtains shut and softly closed the door. Chris was disoriented when he awoke, unsure if he’d slept for a few minutes or hours. The sound of multiple voices from the next room indicated that the family had returned. He strained to distinguish one from another, hoping not to hear Anna in the mix. It was only then that his senses were all assaulted at once with what he’d done in his sleep. He could feel a wet, slippery mess shift and move around his midsection as he tried to sit up, and he could see his diaper sag. Mostly, though, he smelled a now-familiar stench. He faced a decision. Do babies at whatever age he was supposed to act cry when they’re messy, or do they ignore the discomfort, or do they even enjoy the feeling? It didn’t take him long to decide not to call attention to what he’d done, despite knowing that discovery and the humiliation that followed was inevitable. Each minute that passed, though, was miserable. He was just starting to reconsider his decision when Beth walked through the door carrying a sleeping Katie. “Oh, ugh!” she said loudly. “Amy, what do you feed this girl?” Amy soon entered along with Lily, who laughingly pinched her nose and commented that she was glad she was the one sister who wasn’t in the running to change diapers this vacation. To Chris’s dismay, Anna appeared in the doorway a few seconds later. “I can stay as long as you need me,” she announced. “Remember, you essentially have my services 24/7 during your stay. Think of me as a sort of au pair, except my bedroom is a five-minute walk away. Our goal here is to relieve you of this exact sort of responsibility. If you like, I can wait to change her until you’re at dinner. Or do you intend to bring her with you?” “We’d like to all be together for our first dinner here,” Lily answered, “especially now that Kristie had the courtesy to get this out of her system now rather than waiting until the restaurant. But if you don’t mind, would you...?” “Of course,” Anna answered cheerfully. “Let me know where you want to eat tonight and at what time and I’ll call now to make sure suitable seating arrangements and other accommodations are ready for your arrival. Then I’d better get this little stinker in the tub. Would you mind laying an outfit for her?” The group left the room together, with Anna returning alone a few minutes later, closing the door behind her. She disappeared into the adjoining bathroom to start the water, then perched at the side of the crib. “Well, I guess I can’t put this off much longer,” she said to the room. “I do marvel at their optimism that babies aren’t capable of blowouts twice within a few hours. C’mon, Kristie, let’s get you up on the table.” Lying prone on the changing table, Chris heard the snap of latex gloves and a pair of hands protected by them immediately appeared in his view. Anna had also donned a mask. She kept up a running commentary about the volume and smell of his waste as she used at least a dozen adult-sized scented wipes on every inch of his diaper area at least twice. Finally, she disposed of the diaper in the pail along with the soiled gloves. “That’ll contribute to making this room smell like a nursery,” she said. “Now, bath time.” Chris crawled to the bathroom and rolled over the side of the tub, which was only filled about six inches. Anna must have added some sort of scented oil, as the water smelled like flowers. She scrubbed him everywhere, spending more time than was necessary on his private area, making sure she poked deep into his rear end with a soapy washcloth. After the bath, it was back to the changing table, where she quickly covered his whole body with a sickly sweet baby lotion, followed by copious amounts of baby powder, which stuck to the lotion. She disappeared with his diaper briefly before returning and quickly getting it taped on. To Chris’s dismay, she had pre-wet it. He was further disappointed to see the dress that Amy had laid out. It was new, the most babyish outfit he’d seen yet, a yellow and pink bubble suit that puffed out everywhere, with baby bottles sewn onto the bodice and layers of ruffles across the butt. It ballooned out to make his diapered bottom look even puffier than it already was. He crawled out to the living area, sitting on the floor between Amy’s legs as she meticulously brushed out his hair, then used a small comb to pull together tufts, which she held in place with bows and barrettes. Anna took Katie into the next room for a diaper change, then returned holding two baby bottles, one large and one small. She ended up feeding Chris while Amy dressed, then did the same for Katie while Beth got ready. “I’ll be back after dinner,” Anna told the women as she got ready to leave. “Just text me.” Chris’s joy at seeing her leave was immediately tempered when Lily and Amy strapped her into the stroller and slung a giant diaper bag over its handle. As they rolled out the door, Chris felt himself flood his diaper with pee. Please, he thought to himself, help me through this meal. Amy kept the canopy of the stroller back so that Chris was totally exposed to passersby as he was slowly pushed in the direction of the restaurant. To their credit none of the women that walked by stared or made rude comments and there were even a few mutterings of “adorable” and “how appropriate.” At least he had a snap crotch so that his accident wasn’t in plain view. All too soon the entrance to an Italian restaurant came into view. The hostess greeted them without the slightest hint of surprise, which confirmed Chris’s assumption that the entire staff, if not all the guests as well, has been prepared for his arrival. In some ways their lack of a fuss made his situation more tolerable, but it also made him uncomfortable at how easily everyone accepted his status as a helpless, diapered infant. He would have liked at least some sort of acknowledgment that there was an adult underneath the babyish attire, but as far as anyone here was concerned, there was no difference between himself and Katie, or the couple other babies at the resort. Naturally a highchair has already been set at their table, and they seem to have purposely been positioned exactly in the middle of the dining room in plain view of every other guest. Chris was locked in tight, the tray slid up against his stomach. Amy withdrew a pink and yellow, especially frilly bib from the diaper bag and tied it around his neck. Even her eyes, Chris noticed, didn’t give any recognition of his true age. She was in full mommy mode and maybe, in her mind, saw him as an actual baby. He worried about her ability to snap back to reality once this week was over. “Hello and welcome, my name is Sarah,” a pert, young server said as she came to the table. “Is this your first time at one of our restaurants? You’ll find that with the exception of our two adults-only options, all of our restaurants not only have kiddie menus but for the younger children are willing to customize food to any texture or level of spice, and can mix in veggies and fruits that will keep baby regular for the duration of your stay. There’s a centralized bathroom for all five family restaurants complete with a mother’s room with a nursing area and changing tables. In fact, if your little one has a smelly oopsie in the middle of your meal, one of our staff would be happy to handle it for you so that you won’t need to let your food get cold. Now, can I start you out with some drinks, and would you like me to have bottles warmed for your girls?” To Chris’s dismay, both Amy and Beth took up her offer on the bottles. Within minutes Amy was holding it to his lips as he drank a horribly sweet, thick concoction that alternately made him gag and burb. He closed his eyes to avoid seeing scores of women watch his feed. He could feel dribbles of the formula run down his chin onto his bib. At least she didn’t burp him when he was done. He did his best to ignore the conversation among the women, which focused on activities he wouldn’t be a part of. Sarah came and went several times, eventually placing a huge bowl of a grayish-green mush on his tray along with a rubber-tipped spoon. Being an Italian restaurant, Chris assumed there was pasta in there somewhere but if so it had been pulsed into an indistinguishable mass. Amy and Lily on either side of him took turns pushing overflowing spoonfuls into and around his mouth. He could detect broccoli, asparagus, maybe some pear, and a dull sort of tomato sauce, along with several unidentifiable additives. It was gross, and there was so much of it. By the end, his bib looked like a splash painting. Katie, on the other hand, looked as clean as she had before the meal. “Well it looks like someone enjoyed herself,” came Sarah’s voice from his side. “Did you get any inside of her? I’ve brought some wipes but if you need more let me know. Why don’t you peruse the dessert menu, and if you like I’ll send Briana by to bring little Kristie to the changing room. We don’t want the neighboring tables to complain.” Chris was astonished, and only then realized that he’d soiled himself yet again without any awareness that he’d done so. The odor was faint but obvious. Surely, though, Amy wouldn’t want yet another strange woman to take over diaper duty. He was wrong. Within minutes he was being wheeled past dozens of tables full of curious onlookers to the women’s room by yet another twenty-something, pretty, freckle-faced woman. Their personnel department did have a type, he thought. The women’s room, which served five large restaurants, was itself enormous, and was bustling with activity. There were women primping at the mirrors, washing hands, and touching up makeup. He was pushed past the stalls into a separate room with nursery rhyme décor on the walls, soft chairs and a couch against one wall, and four changing tables with stacks of supplies on the shelving beneath them against another. The table he was led to was three times the size of the others. Right next to it a mother nursed her baby; Chris quickly looked away. His carer managed to get him up on the table with a minimum of his own assistance, and got right down to work. As she unsnapped his crotch and loosened the tapes of his diaper, the smell of his poopy bottom filled the air. A small crowd, including the nursing mother who came to take a peek without buttoning her top back up, watched the change. He heard giggles as the front of his diaper was lowered and tried to avoid eye contact while being wiped. Comments about the large size of his mess and small size of something else floated by. One mother asked if she could lotion him, another to fasten him up. Despite the team effort, to Chris the change seemed to go by in slow motion. By the time he got back to the table, the rest of the group was getting ready to leave. After a quick comment from the server that he smelled so much better, they made their way back to the room, where Anna was waiting for them. It couldn’t have been much later than 8:00, but she readied he and Katie for bed, including two more bottles for him, as the women dressed for some sort of evening out. As Anna turned on the mobile and dimmed the lights, he grumbled to himself that it was way too early for bed. Within minutes, he was sound asleep.

17. Amy asked Lily to pull over just as the resort came into view. She turned to Chris and made sure his eyes met her own. “From this moment on until this automobile is at this point of the drive heading home in the other direction, you are not to give the slightest indication that you’re anything but a drooling, babbling infant. That includes not staring at anything or anyone or showing interest in anything but your fingers, toes, and your bottle. Got it, little baby girl?” Chris gave a small nod, after which Lily drove on. He tried his best not to react as an adult would as the resort came into full view. It was enormous and even from the outside appeared opulent. The lawn was lush, the front of the main building immaculate and imposing, and the view of the water impressive. Lily pulled up and parked in front of the entrance, where they were immediately joined by a young woman with a luggage cart. Lily and Beth unloaded their hoard onto the cart as Amy pulled something out from the cartop carrier. Chris couldn’t see what it was, as he was still strapped into his car seat, as was Katie, who seemed disinterested in the whole process. Chris decided he should pay more attention to her and follow her example in order to avoid any accusation of grownup behavior. He was still gazing in Katie’s direction when Amy opened the door next to him, causing him to jump. He could fee a stream or warm pee run down his crotch and into the already sodden diaper. “OMG, Beth, it’s so stinky back here. How did you survive?” Amy laughed as she unbuckled Chris’s car seat. “Told you so,” Beth replied as she did the same with her own baby. “You get to ride in the back on the way home.” Chris tried not to appear that he was giving Amy much help as she guided him out of the car but wondered how he’d get inside without walking. Surely she didn’t expect him to crawl on the asphalt. Then he saw it. A giant monstrosity of a stroller, an exact replica of those he’d seen at the park, complete with bottle holders, a basket for diapers and other supplies, and a collapsable canopy. This version, though, allowed the front bar to swing out from one side, allowing baby to slide into the seat without having to be lifted. Without being told, Chris did just that. Amy immediately shoved a bulbous pacifier into his mouth. Chris looked down at himself as the stroller began to move. His dress was bunched up due to the crotch strap, providing a clear view of his diaper. He hadn’t been aware until now that this particular diaper clearly revealed when the wearer had wet, and the large dark spot continued to grow even as he watched. He wasn’t sure how many bows and barrettes Beth had put in his hair, but she’d worked on him for at least twenty minutes. And even out in the fresh air, he could smell his foul bottom. Sixty seconds from now would begin one of the most horrific and embarrassing times of his life. To her credit, the bellhop recovered from her initial reaction at seeing Chris quickly and was soon pushing the heavily-laden cart off to wherever their room would be. As the group approached the front desk, a tall, blonde, well-dressed woman in her thirties quickly exited from behind the counter and hurried in their direction. The manager, he assumed. She barely gave the stroller a passing glance. “Hello, you must be Lily’s group. I’m Ms. Adams, the general manager. How was your trip? Why don’t we go and sit over here on these couches while we get acquainted and I tell give you our official welcome.” She took two steps, sniffed the air, then turned and bored her gaze directly on Chris. He looked away and sucked harder on his binky. “On second thought,” she told the group, “why don’t we move out onto the veranda.” Once they were settled, with Chris’s stroller positioned between Amy and Beth, Ms. Adams took out a phone and spoke into it briefly as she looked at Chris. “I assume this is Kristie? I’m pleased to see that she’s dressed appropriately and that she’s thoughtfully provided some proof that her toileting skills are that of any other young infant. I’m sorry if I sounded a bit harsh when I laid out the rules for her being here. Despite this being strictly a resort for women only, a refuge from the male world if you will, you’d be surprised at the lengths our female guests go to sneak a man in. Nothing this extreme, however. I’d be shocked if any self-respecting man would allow himself to be dressed in that way or, above all, soil themselves in full view of strange women, just to be able to get around our rules. Nevertheless, we still need to verify. Ah, here she is.” Chris watched warily as a young freckle-faced woman who couldn’t have been more than nineteen approached the group, smiling widely. “This is Anna,” Ms. Adams told them. “She’s been assigned to your group for the duration of your stay. She can help with dinner reservations, arrange activities, or troubleshoot any issues you may have. More importantly, she’ll provide babysitting services for your two little ones whenever you don’t have them placed in our day care facility. She’s certified to watch over children of any age, but her favorites are the babies. She’s a pro and detecting when a diaper needs changing and can take care of it as fast as any mother. Kids seem to love her. I encourage you to free yourself up to enjoy all we have to offer and to trust us to provide your babies with excellent care. Now, speaking of diapers...Anna, baby Kristie here is past due for a change, as you can probably tell. Please take her to a private area where you can clean her of that toxic diaper, and give her the test.” “The test?” Amy asked, but Chris didn’t hear the response as he was wheeled away in a hurry. He was able to get small glimpses of the beach through the trees but was soon pushed past a heavy door into a large family bathroom. Anna spread out an oversized changing pad on the floor and guided him down onto it. As she lifted his dress up and tucked it out of the way, she leaned forward, providing an unobstructed view down the front of her blouse. Chris tried his best to look totally disinterested, which wasn’t easy. “Phew! Let’s get you cleaned up, shall we baby girl? You and I are going to become best friends over the next week. This won’t be the last diaper of yours I change, but honestly I hope it’s the worst. This is going to take some time.” She kept up a stream of chatter, getting increasingly babyish as she cleaned. Once most of the mess had been wiped away, she took a few baby wipes and spent at least two minutes on his penis and balls, continuing way past when they should have been spotless. “Hmm,” she said to herself. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a container of baby oil, pouring a generous dollop directly onto the tip of his dick. Giving him a conspiratorial look, she lowered the top of her blouse over her shoulders, letting it drop until her braless breasts were exposed. Again, she leaned forward as she began to stroke him, rubbing the oil up and down his shaft. Getting no reaction, she shifted so that her crotch was resting on his face, never letting up on her manipulation. Internally, Chris was in upheaval and it took every ounce of control he had not to moan or otherwise reveal the shockwave he was feeling. From her expression and a few of her mutterings, he knew that she was aware that he wasn’t regressed mentally, so she must have also known that this was pure torture for him. Finally, after he stayed as soft as when she began her ministrations, she got up and washed her hands, ending his test. “You passed,” she said with a grin. As she placed a clean diaper beneath him, though, she squatted over him, pulled her panties aside, and let loose a stream of pee onto his groin area. “Your prize,” she giggled. Chris was too irritated with his situation to feel any pride in having passed the test, or even any sense of relief. He was too focused on the prospect of spending the next week with a young woman with a sadistic side hidden beneath her innocent features, who seemingly would delight in teasing him relentlessly. Minutes later the pair rejoined the group, who by now were enjoying drinks as they learned of the features of the resort. Even Katie was enjoying a bottle. Ms. Adams looked a question at Anna, who nodded and announced, “No more reaction than any other infant. And,” she added with a smirk, “about the same size.” “Well,” Ms. Adams said decisively, “it looks like we can now show you to your room. Anna, would you be so kind? It was delightful to meet you all, and I hope you enjoy your stay.” From his place in the stroller, Chris could only hear snatches of conversation, words like “show,” “steak,” “beach,” and, unfortunately, “nap.” They seemed to walk forever. Amy lowered the canopy, so all Chris could see were other guests from the waist down as they passed, but he swore they all slowed down as they got close, and he heard a couple laughing. They passed several two-story buildings before coming to an area that had individual cottages, which is where they paused. Anna opened a door and watched as they all filed in, smiling at Chris as he was pushed past. “It’s delightful!” Lily cried when they were all inside. “And look, the girls have their own room. Amy took Chris out of the stroller, which she folded and put to the side. The room they were in was gigantic, with two king beds, a sitting area, and a deck with a hot tub. A large playpen sat in one corner, already stocked with infant toys. Amy prodded him to crawl in the direction of the “baby’s room.” As he entered the room, he sat back on his rear, astounded. This room as also big, which it needed to be to fit two cribs, one larger than the other, a changing table, a rocking chair, and a playmat. A small bathroom with a tub but no toilet was off to one side. The cribs each had their own mobile, and a diaper pail sat prominently at the end of the changing table, which was stocked with a myriad of multi-colored bottles. A highchair was squeezed against one wall. Anna anticipated the women’s questions. “We have some regular customers with special needs children who are here multiple times per year, so we invested in a slightly larger crib, changing table, and highchair. The crib will be a bit of a tight fit for Kristie, but she’ll be fine. Note the cameras around the room, which you can access through our app to check on your babies while you’re elsewhere. Of course, I’ll be here as well so that you won’t leave them alone. The maids will empty the diaper pails each morning, more often if they get too foul. There are an assortment of soaps and bubble baths near the tub. “I tell you all of this, but we encourage you to allow me or the women at the day care to take over most of the care of your children this week. We provide a full service, so if you choose you won’t need to change a single diaper or warm even one bottle all week. We’ll make sure we keep the babies entertained and will take them for walks and bring them to the baby pool and playground. You can see as much or as little of them this week as you desire.” “I’ll take you up on that right now, if that’s okay,” Amy said. “Katie slept in the car, so she can come with us. Anna, can you put Kristie down for a nap while the rest of us explore the grounds? She’ll need a bottle first.” “Of course,” Anna replied. “We even have a bottle warmer here in the room. I’ll take good care of her.” Chris wanted to scream out not to leave him alone with this woman, even at the cost of getting kicked out of the resort, but before he could do anything he heard the outside door in the next room close, and he was once more alone with Anna.

16. The next several days weren’t all that different from what his life had been like immediately prior to the surprise surgery, as he was still allowed to function as an adult during much of the time. An adult, though, who filled his diapers at the most inconvenient times and who had to wait for someone to discover his accident and change him. At first Amy was diligent in getting Chris into a fresh diaper as soon as she discovered he was wet or dirty, but it didn’t take long before she would sometimes make him wait if she was in the middle of doing something else. She also called him Kristie, or sometimes Kristine, even during his “adult” times and his protests were ignored or answered with a pacifier strapped into his mouth. Admittedly it was hard to object when he was rarely out of a frilly dress or something pink and girly, another battle he knew he was destined to lose based on her admission that she always saw him as a girlfriend and never truly as a man at all. The bottle-time monologues continued, but mostly to reinforce what Amy had already described as their new dynamic or to remind him of the rules of the house. Virtually every time she stressed her happiness in their arrangement, knowing that Chris needed to hear that and also to make it less likely for him to force a showdown over the rules. When he had his first blowout, with poop exploding outside of the diaper and down his back, even then Amy was cheerful and sang little songs as she changed him, blowing raspberries on his tummy once the offensive diaper had been disposed of and his body was cleaned and lotioned. She did make sure to let slip a comment rhetorically asking what other woman would ever be willing to deal with such a mess on their spouse and to do so without being angry. Chris knew it was meant to make him think about what the options were for an incontinent man-baby should his marriage dissolve for any reason, and it had the desired effect. He loved Amy and didn’t think he would ever choose to leave her, but now the ugly prospect of being left on his own to deal with his own dirty diapers was planted in his mind and he knew that for better or worse, he was stuck where he was. Amy was careful not to unveil her baby to the world all at once, as much as she wanted to, but she also didn’t shy away from leaving some clues as to Kristie’s status should a stranger give more than a passing glance their way. The collar of a onesie stuck out from his shirt one time, a pacifier hung from his shirt another time, and of course the diaper bag over her shoulder was a giveaway if anyone were paying attention. Twice she sniffed the air and pulled the back of his pants back for a peek. As embarrassing as that was to Chris, he knew that the days where he was allowed to wear pants were numbered. And he was right. Soon he was wearing women’s dresses and a wig, but only after Amy fussed with his makeup. One dress was so short that the bottom of his diaper was visible when it began to sag. When he soiled himself in a mall, she made sure to visit the baby store and took her time wandering the aisles as other customers looked around for the infant with a dirty diaper. He’d been so distracted by his fear of discovery and the drama each day brought on that he’d completely forgotten about the vacation Lily had booked until Amy began to pack the day before they were to leave. “Am I coming with you?” he asked tentatively. Part of him wanted to go, as the resort sounded so wonderful even if he would need periodic diaper changes, and part of him would be happy to stay home out of the public eye even if it meant having to tolerate a babysitter. “Of course you are,” Amy responded. “Do you really think I’d leave you in the hands of a babysitter for a whole week? I already packed your bag. This vacation is for the whole family, not just a select few. Beth is bringing her baby too.” “But does that mean I’ll be your baby there at the resort too?” Chris whined. “Kristie, you’ll always be my baby,” Amy replied without answering his real question. “Don’t worry, dear, Lily has already made arrangements with the manager of the resort to make sure that you fit right in.” Chris didn’t like the sound of that but that’s all Amy would say. The next morning was a flurry of activity. Amy took extra time with Chris’s bath to make sure he smelled good, and rubbed a new and strongly floral lotion over 90% of his body just to make sure. She put a booster into his diaper and brushed his hair for ten minutes. She seemed nervous and admitted that she wanted both of them to make a good impression solely for business reasons. These were people with money to burn and would make good customers both for her woman’s line and the fledgling baby fashions. He began to object when she dressed him in a onesie. “Relax,” she said. “You need to wear something that gives us easy access to your diapers in case we need to change you in the van. We’ll change you into something more appropriate before we get there.” They were taking Beth’s minivan with all three sisters and their two babies traveling together. Their mom would join them later. The women’s suitcases were large enough, but the babies’ were even bigger. Adults needed outfits for multiple occasions, both casual and formal, but at least they weren’t prone to spitting up or leaking on their clothes. A good portion of the trunk was taken up by Katie’s diapers. “I don’t know how we’ll get a week’s worth of Kristie’s diapers in here,” Beth cautioned. “We might need to hold them on our laps.” “It’s not an issue,” Amy told her. “I had a case delivered straight to the resort. They’ll be in our room when we check in.” “You told them?” Chris asked in horror. “Baby, it’s not something that can be kept under wraps, or for that matter anything that you should be ashamed of. You pee and poop your pants, so you need diapers. No big deal. Would you rather they find out the first time I change you on the beach and make a big scene?” Chris realized then that he’s been in major denial about how this trip would play out. He assumed that all his changes would take place in their room, away from curious eyes. Amy obviously had other plans. It seemed like she could read his mind. “I’m not about to interrupt what I’m doing and run back to the room every time you’re wet or messy. It’s perfectly normal to change babies on a towel at the beach. Otherwise you can just wait. We’ll be outdoors, so the stink of a dirty diaper won’t be so bad.” Chris watched with sad eyes as Amy transferred his car seat to the back seat of the van, directly behind the driver. A nearly identical, though much smaller, car seat sat by the passenger window. Once they were satisfied they hadn’t forgotten anything, the women strapped the babies into the car seats. Lily drove so that Beth, the more experienced mother, could sit between the babies. Amy rode shotgun. They’d barely made it onto the highway when the tension of getting packed dissipated and the excitement of the week ahead took its place. The women had obviously done their homework and chatted about which restaurant would work best for which night, when they might want a massage, which nighttime shows were mandatory to see. “Can I ask something?” Beth chimed in during a pause in the conversation. “I mean, I think it’s great that Kristie is able to come with us and everything, but this is a women-only resort. No men allowed, ever. Will that be an issue?” Chris’s mouth dropped open, almost losing the pacifier Beth had insisted he suck on. This was the first he’d heard about the gender restriction. Thinking back, he never did see the entire website itself; the only information he’d learned had been shown to him by Lily. Of course this would be a problem. He wasn’t so deluded to think that he passed as a woman upon close inspection even when he wore a dress and a wig. “Not to worry,” Lily said. “I had a long discussion with the manager. The rule isn’t quite ironclad. For instance boys up to about age 10, i.e. pre-puberty, are allowed if advance notice is given. I explained Chris’s situation in detail and, along with an additional donation, got permission for him to stay subject to two conditions.” She paused while she passed a line of trucks, finally prompting Beth to ask “What conditions?” “First, they want to verify that he’s incapable of getting an erection. In order to reassure the other guests. Second—” “Wait,” Beth interrupted. “Verify how?” “They didn’t say,” Lily answered. “Then second—” “Aren’t you at least a little curious,” Beth asked, giggling. “And in reassuring the guests, that means that all the women there will know...” “That he can’t get it up, yes,” Lily said with a grin. “But that kind of fits with the second condition. Unless you want to keep focusing on Kristie’s pussy...” Beth giggled some more and shook her head. “Fine then. The second condition is that everyone there, including all of us, the staff, and the other guests, are to treat her as a twelve-month old baby. No exceptions or we’ll be asked to leave. It’ll be strictly enforced, which means no adult conversation with her even in our room, she eats and drinks everything a baby would, wears baby clothes, no seeking privacy when she needs a change, and so forth. The staff and guests will be getting a notice about this. And she suggested we make full use of the daycare center and babysitting services.” “In case you didn’t understand the full ramifications of those conditions, baby,” Amy said, turning to face Chris, “our vacation depends on you behaving. If you so much as utter one word or try to walk or exhibit any adult behaviors, you’ll ruin the vacation for everyone. Got it?” Chris nodded. Stated like that, and the fact that it was too late to make arrangements for him to stay home, put him in a bind. This would be the longest week of his life. Nothing more was said about his conditions and the women chatted happily about their plans. They’d been driving for hours when a familiar and unpleasant odor filled the car. “Which one?” Amy asked Beth. “Checking, she replied. “Oh, yuk. Both of them. How much longer?” “About an hour,” Lily said. “We just passed a sign for a rest stop in about ten more minutes. We can change them then.” “No,” Amy said firmly. “Beth can change Katie, but I think we should leave Kristie in her mess. We want to make a good first impression and how better to show that we’re showing up with two babies and serious about their conditions than to have her stinky. I will, though, change her out of that onesie and put her in a dress. The staff at check-in will know that there’s no true adult male under all the lace.” At the rest stop, the women took turns using the rest room and Katie was put in a clean diaper. Amy pulled out the frilliest, most girly baby party dress that any of them had seen, complete with a waterproof diaper cover designed to keep in the mess but not the smell. When Beth objected to being forced to ride the rest of the way next to the source of the stench, Amy handed her a small bag. “Distract yourself by doing her hair,” she said. Chris felt his diaper get wetter as they continued on their way. Eventually Lily pulled off onto an exit, and twenty minutes later they were traveling down a side road to the resort. His life was about to get interesting and he mentally began counting the hours until they would leave.

15. Amy’s wish came true, but not due to anything Chris did on purpose. When he awoke it took him a moment both to remember where he was and to identify what that awful stench was. The bars of the crib quickly answered his first question and the uncomfortable mush on his bottom the second. It was the first time that he’d messed himself in his sleep and served to close the door on any hopes he had that he had at least a little control over his bowels. It was too overwhelming to think that this was his new normal now, and that this was the first of potentially hundreds, even thousands, of times he’d wake up in this state. And the certainty that the same thing would happen in public unsettled him even more. He wondered how long he could get away with never leaving the house. Amy, of course, was beside herself with glee when she stepped into the nursery and immediately smelled the distinct odor of a dirty diaper. She, too, instantly recognized that this was the first of a myriad of messy diaper changes but her reaction to this thought was the polar opposite of Chris’s. For now, this was a momentous occasion that she hoped would never get old. “It appears you christened the air of the nursery,” she laughed as she approached the crib. “Good girl. It needs to stink of baby in here or it wouldn’t seem real. Are you thirsty? I brought you a bottle of juice. Let’s get that inside you before we address that nasty diaper.” Amy had always been the type of person who had to check off all the more mundane or unpleasant tasks before she would allow herself to indulge in something enjoyable or fun. Chris was the same, but here they had opposing opinions of which category his diaper fell in. For Chris, getting it off him and into a clean one was the priority; to Amy, it was a dream come true that could wait until he finished his bottle so that she could extend her anticipation. It was a battle that he never had a chance to win. Even worse, Amy couldn’t resist the temptation to pat the lump on his bottom and even to press down on it, which spread the mess up into his genitals. Even after he drained the bottle, she didn’t move and seemed comfortable relaxing in the crib with his head on her lap as she conducted a one-sided conversation. It seemed like snuggles as he drank a bottle was becoming the time to raise important topics regarding his new status in the household. “It’s really hard to resist immediately treating you like a baby 24/7,” she began. “I mean, look at you. Drinking from a baby bottle in a crib, which itself is in a fully-furnished nursery. Your outfit screams ‘size 12 months’ and your diaper is full and smelly. You have no control over your pottying, and will need changing throughout the day. Your dinner tonight will be soft and runny and you’ll need a bib to avoid staining your clothes. You suck a pacifier most of the day. It takes mental gymnastics to switch back and forth between seeing you as your true self, a baby girl, and treating you like an adult.” She unconsciously pressed hard on his bottom as she spoke and Chris winced. He was trying to focus on her words and not get distracted by looking ahead to getting clean. Amy went on. “But that wouldn’t be fair to you, and I do want the best of both worlds: my bff when I want to talk about or do grownup things, my baby when the urge to be a mother can’t be ignored. And I know you still have your work and are trying to hold on to some vestige of maturity. “So here’s what I propose. You’ll always be in diapers, of course, and I’ll always be in charge of checking and changing them. You never, ever touch them yourself or even tell me when you want changing. And I can check your diaper anywhere, anytime, at home or in public. So as far as diapers and anything involving pee or poo, you’ll always be a baby and I’ll always treat you as a helpless infant. You’ll be dressed in clothing appropriate for someone who’ll need her diapers changed regularly, which means baby clothes that allow easy access. If you need to be on a video call for work, you can put a shirt and tie over the top, but your bottom half remains a baby. In public, you’ll need to get used to wearing baby clothes and being treated like any other young toddler, and that includes changes in the car, ladies’ rooms, or wherever. If an occasion ever arises where you need to dress as an adult, it’ll be as my wife, meaning a dress or skirt and blouse. Never pants for obvious reasons. And I’ll always be carrying your diaper bag with no efforts to hide it. “As far as more grownup bedroom activities, I’ll decide when and how we drain you of any buildup of fluids and also decide how you’ll be satisfying me. I don’t think it’ll be much different that the hollow dildo we already use, although since you won’t be able to fill it enough to keep it on given your current state, and we can’t have you wetting or peeing the sheets, we’ll have to get creative with diapers and straps. Leave that to me. You should also do some research on how to satisfy me with your tongue. If I’m not comfortable having sex with someone in a baby dress, we’ll get you something sexy to wear over your diapers. “So essentially,” she concluded, “our relationship will be pretty much an extension of what it’s always been. Me taking charge. The only difference is that it’ll be me deciding when you’re a baby and when you’re an adult, but I’ll still be making all of the decisions either way. When to change your diaper or what shade of lipstick looks best on you. “Oh, baby, I’m sorry to have gone on for so long. You really stink. End of lecture. Let’s get you to the changing table.” Amy took her time with the change, partly to stretch out the pleasures of her first messy diaper change, partly out of necessity. She kept up a steady stream of humiliating baby talk and giggled as she wiped poop off his flaccid member. She made a verbal note to look into finding larger wipes, as the stack of used ones steadily grew higher. Chris signed with relief when she finally put a fresh diaper beneath him and began to spread soothing lotion over his bottom. He was surprised at the familiar tingling when she used lotion to caress his penis and was surprised and disappointed when he opened his eyes to discover that he still wasn’t getting the slightest bit hard. So apparently he could still feel the pleasures of touch but couldn’t do anything about them. How cruel, he thought. Amy allowed him to catch up on emails after the change while she busied herself in the kitchen. Chris entered his office and the familiar smells and sights of his office made it feel like a sort of adult sanctuary, a refuge from the madness outside the office door. When he sat in his chair in front of the computer, though, he discovered that Amy had in fact intruded here as well. The seat of his chair was now covered in a waterproof yellow cushion decorated with diaper pins and baby bottles, and a large waterproof mat covered the floor in all directions under the chair. She didn’t miss a trick, he groused to himself, although he had to admit that her precautions made perfect sense. Dinner brought one more surprise in the form of a highchair where his kitchen chair once sat, but by this point nothing should have surprised Chris. It looked absurdly large but contained all of the usual features, including straps to hold him in and a tray that slid into place up against his chest. He knew that something lesser would have been just as easy to set up so that he could still have his meals at the table, but there were other more important battles to fight, if he could ever get motivated to do so. Amy dished out some roast chicken, potatoes, and broccoli for herself, then placed the same foods into their high-powered blender and pushed a button. Chris watched in dismay as the foods quickly began to liquify and assume a bland, brownish-gray color with green specks. Amy stopped the blender and poured the glop into a child’s bowl, which she placed in front of him with a sour expression. “Sorry, doctor’s orders,” she said. “And even though it looks bad, it really is the same food I’m eating. You saw for yourself. Nuh uh, don’t even think about it. Let me get your bib and I’ll feed you.” The bib was simple, white terrycloth with pink trim, but soon it was a collage of colors as Chris’s meal dripped down his chin and fell onto it. Amy did her best to scrape it up and push it back in but could only limit the damage. She didn’t seem upset about it and even took a picture. “For your baby book,” she said. “I took several of your first dirty diaper change too while your eyes were closed.” Chris blanched. Every time he thought things couldn’t get worse, they did. After dinner, Amy suggested watching a movie together. Chris was for now saved from the confines of the playpen but was still forced to wear plastic panties over his diaper and sit on yet another waterproof changing pad on the couch. Amy picked the movie but insisted that they watch a cartoon teaching the ABCs first. Chris didn’t put up a fight about the cartoon or the pacifier she put into his mouth. He was awoken when Amy gently shook his shoulder. “Silly goose, you’re supposed to wait until I get you into your crib before you fall asleep.” She led him upstairs, changed him out of a soaking wet diaper, fed him a bottle of formula, and tucked him in. Tomorrow would be Chris’s first full day at home as an incontinent half-baby half-man. Or half woman? Quarter woman and quarter man? He wasn’t sure anymore, but fell back asleep in the middle of his internal debate.

14. Amy didn’t come to pick him up the next day, forcing him to stay in the hospital bed for an additional 24 hours. Any hopes he had that this was an elaborate ruse Lily created as a practical joke were dashed quickly with each uncontrolled wetting and soiling, which came without even a split-second warning. Once his IV was removed he was subjected to meals of revolting mush and wasn’t allowed to feed himself, contributing to his feeling of helplessness. Lily herself only came to check his vitals and barely spoke, leaving it to her nurse Meagan to care for him. Meagan spoke to him in a condescending, sing-song voice as if he were two years old, especially when she emphasized how soggy or smelly his diaper was. He wanted to protest but the only times the pacifier was taken out, his mouth was immediately filled with a constant flow of baby food. He was relieved, then, when he heard Amy’s voice outside the door to his room. She entered seconds later carrying an overnight bag which she placed on the bed. “It’s time to get you home, baby,” she said enthusiastically. “So let’s get you out of that horrid gown and into something for fitting for my little girl.” Her words presaged what was to come, so Chris wasn’t surprised when she pulled out a checkered calico frock with matching yellow panties. He stiffened when he felt her fingers probe inside his leg gathers. He told himself that one of the first things he’d say when he was able would be to let her know that he could tell her when he needed a change. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure if this was actually the case, as he was often surprised when Meagan pulled a soaking diaper off him that he thought was merely damp. “I can’t wait to show you the changes I’ve made at home,” Amy told him. “It’s been a busy couple of days and there’s still more to do, but you’ll be amazed at how much we accomplished in such a short time. C’mon now, sit up so that I can get you dressed.” Again, Chris thought, he could dress himself, but then he couldn’t remember the last time he’d done so. Meagan arrived with a wheelchair and helped Amy strap Chris into it. His dress rode up in the process, exposing his diaper in plain view. Thankfully the hallway was empty of other people, but he wasn’t so fortunate when they passed through the waiting area to the outside door. He felt a dozen sets of eyes on him and as they left heard a child’s voice ask why that lady was wearing a diaper. All he wanted to do now was get home. If he’d known what was waiting for him, he might not have been in such a hurry. Once he was released from the wheelchair he took a few tentative steps toward the passenger seat of the car. “No, no, baby, not the front,” Amy chided. “Children ride in the back seat.” She opened the rear door to reveal a gigantic, hideous version of a toddler’s car seat, accurate in every detail down to the strap and locking mechanism to be pulled down over the passenger’s head. Chris balked but was no match for Amy and Meagan working together to get him situated. He added window tint to his list of things to do as soon as he was able. Amy chatted cheerfully and non-stop all the way home, including multiple statements of disbelief and appreciation for this giant step he took just to make her happy. And clearly she was happy, more so than at any other time since they first met. For the first time, Chris began to have doubts about revealing her sister’s treachery or even to express his desire to make all of this go away. If Lily was to be believed, nothing could be done about his incontinence, which left only the question as to how much he could minimize the baby treatment without hurting his wife or affecting her good mood. This would require some thought. Amy led him upstairs as soon as they entered the door, but not before he caught a glimpse of the dreaded playpen set up in the living room, its bars stretching closer to the ceiling than he remembered. The sight distracted him to the extent he almost missed it when Amy spoke. “And this is your new room,” she gushed as she pushed open the guest room door, which now had a plaque attached identifying the room as a nursery. The sign should have been enough of a clue as to what laid within, but Chris was unprepared for what he saw. Gone were any elements that suggested an adult would be sleeping here. In their place was a giant wooden crib with alternating white and pink bars, colorful nursery-rhyme themed crib rails, and a mobile extending a carousel of bunnies over the pillow. The sheets were a light shade of plain pink. The dresser acting as a makeshift changing table had been replaced with an actual changing table, the open drawers beneath stacked with diapers, plastic pants, wipes, and an army of powders and lotions. A large rocking chair sat in one corner. The walls were replete with baby animals floating in a cloud-filled sky while the floor had a soft rug with alphabet letters. Pink drapes with lace trim adorned the windows. The closet doors were wide open; inside hung a full rack of dresses in every color of the rainbow. More details awaited his gaze, but he closed his eyes. “It’s a lot,” he muttered through the pacifier. “I know, isn’t it wonderful?” Amy responded, misinterpreting his dismay for approval. “It’s every little girl’s dream room. Nothing but the best for my baby, especially since you’ll be spending so much time in here. It has that new room smell, don’t you think?” She wrinkled her nose. “Of course it won’t be long before that’s replaced by the stench of used diapers, spit up, and baby lotion. But that’s how it should be. Speaking of smells, you’re pretty ripe. Let’s get you up on the table then get you ready for a nap in your crib.” Once he was dry and they were snuggled together in the crib, with Chris nursing a bottle, she noticed a small tear in the corner of his eye and her countenance softened. He made an effort to push the nipple out with his tongue and say something, but she placed her fingers on his lips and simply said “Shh, let Mommy talk.” She paused and inhaled loudly before placing one hand on the front of his diaper and stroking his hair with the other. “I know this is a lot and you’re overwhelmed. I probably should have discussed all of this with you, or at least introduced it gradually, but I was so excited by how far you went to make me happy that I couldn’t help myself. This is the fulfillment of a dream I’ve had for as long as I remember. “Do you know what attracted me to you? I know you’ve always wondered, because I had my share of suiters who were more attractive, or wealthier, or better lovers. But you...you were like the girlfriend I never had. I know I have a number of women friends—you’ve met them—but none of them are or were the kind with whom I felt I could share my deepest, and sometimes darkest, secrets. Who I could just talk to, who I wanted to be the last person I saw at night and the first one I saw in the morning. Who shared the same interests and who went out of their way to put my desires first. And yes, who accepted my more dominant tendencies and seemed content to let me take charge. In a way, our gender roles are the opposite of the traditional ones. And you have to be a real man to be the woman in our marriage. “What I’m trying to say is that while treating you as a baby is a long-time fantasy come true, and helps me pull out of my depressed state, there’s more to it than that. There’s a reason for this room and its furnishings and most of the clothes being for a girl. I want to reraise you as a girl, to fit better into our existing dynamic. And no, I’m not thinking of taking away your male bits, although Lily was pretty effective in neutralizing them. But as you grow, I want to deepen the way we connect as two females, because I think that’ll take us into new territory and enhance the love we have for each other in unexpected and remarkable ways. If I let you mature into an adult, and that’s a big “if” for now, I’m hoping you’ll opt to stay in dresses and adopt all things feminine, so we can bond over them and I can teach you what I know. I get excited thinking about our journey ahead and hope you’ll share the same joy of anticipation. “For now, though, you need to sleep, Kristie. With luck, maybe when I check you after your nap you’ll leave a little surprise in the back of your diaper for Mommy. Sweet dreams, kitten.” Chris was overwhelmed and could barely process what he’d just heard. He laid there in the comfort of his crib—it was the most comfortable bed he’d ever been in—and tried to organize his thoughts, but all too soon and against his wishes, he drifted into dreamland.

13. Lily must have been at least partially successful in arguing Chris’s case because by morning she was civil to him. Not necessarily warm, but for now this was enough. Over the next week they ate their meals together, had some awkward conversations, and Amy didn’t miss another bottle or diaper change. Still, the elephant in the room was never mentioned and it was clearly not going away. With each passing day Chris’s hopes grew that the vacation Lily was organizing would blow Amy away and confirm how much he cared for her. Amy never fully revealed where she and her mom were going on Friday. From the contents of the bag she packed and a few snippets of information she let slip, he deduced that it was some sort of a spa with a pool and a lot of opportunities to be pampered. That should rid her of some of the anxiety she was holding onto, Chris thought, and then her birthday gift and the special meal he planned to make would seal the deal. In one sense he couldn’t wait for her to leave and get started on her healing, but when she closed the door behind her after lunch he immediately felt a sense of loss. Lily showed up shortly thereafter to describe the resort she’d chosen for his gift, showing him a few photos from their website. It looked nice and was only about four hours away by car, but he’d never heard of it. It’s pretty exclusive, she told him, and did very little marketing because it catered to a crowd for which money was no object and if you ran in the social circles of its guests, you’d know about it. Lily used her own position and clout to get reservations, but the best part was that it had had a cancellation, and she was able to book a room for a week only two weeks away. Most of its guests owned their own businesses, so it would be no problem for both he and Amy to find all of the resources there to make it a working vacation if they wished. Chris was thrilled at first, but then doubts snuck in when he wondered if Amy would relent on the baby treatment while they were there. He pushed that thought to the back of his mind, though, as Lily continued to describe all that the resort had to offer. A private beach as well as three pools, countless options for dining in a variety of cuisines, their own concierge, water sports, massages, and nighttime entertainment. While it wasn’t adults only, Lily assured him that the cost alone and the paucity of activities for kids discouraged their attendance. For those children that were there, the manager assured Lily that they were generally shunted off to their day care center or put in the care of their hand-selected babysitters, so that their parents would be free both day and night to enjoy a stress-free—and virtually child-free—vacation. Chris was in a daze as he anticipated Amy’s reaction to his gift and the wonderful time they could have together. He was pulled out of his thoughts when Lily tapped him on the shoulder. “Sorry, kiddo, but Amy made me promise to stick by your routine,” she said. “And that means it’s your naptime. Please do me a favor and don’t give me a hard time. She also gave me the freedom to spank if you’re naughty if you fight my putting your diapers on.” She smiled as she said this, but Chris still saw it as an overt threat. He followed Lily upstairs to the changing table and reached for the buttons on his shirt. Lily slapped his hands away. “Auntie’s job,” she said, instantly reminding him of Amy’s own actions not that long before. He blushed as Lily began the process of stripping him. She’d seen him naked before, but somehow taking his clothes off for him seemed more intimate and regressive. Once again, she fastened his feet in the stirrups and took a close look at his rear end. “Almost gone, good job. I don’t know how often Amy checks your diaper, but I’m going to make sure you don’t sit in a wet diaper for too long and prolong that rash. She said you’re not allowed to say when you need changing—is that true? I guess we’ll play it safe and you should just stay mum about its condition, but that means I’ll have my hand down your panties with some frequency.” Chris was disappointed that Lily selected one of the more girly onesies for him to nap in, but was happy that she forgot to prepare a bottle, at least until she returned ten minutes later with one in hand. “Thought I’d forgotten, didn’t you?” she laughed. “Fat chance, baby girl.” He began to suckle and immediately noticed that Lily had used more powder than Amy usually did. The formula was thicker and tasted worse, and it took him longer to get down. The very effort of finishing, encouraged by Lily, exhausted him. By the time he took the last sips, he was drained of energy and couldn’t keep his eyes open. He heard Lily say something about her being back soon, then everything went black. Chris was woozy when he woke up and he had a slight headache. Everything was a bit blurry when he opened his eyes, but he could see through the haze well enough to realize he wasn’t in the spare bedroom or, for that matter, in any room he’d ever seen before. The face of an unfamiliar woman came into his line of sight just as he passed out again. The next time he came to he was somewhat better and recognized Lily hovering over him. He also noticed that his bed had rails, that an IV was hooked up to his arm, and that he was wearing a pink flowered hospital gown. He began to panic. Had he been in some sort of accident, or had an allergic reaction to something he ate? Where was he, and why was Lily here in her scrubs? And why was a pacifier strapped into his mouth? “Well, look who decided to come back to the land of the living,” Lily said cheerfully. “In case you’re wondering, it’s about 3:00 on Saturday afternoon. You’ve been kept in an unconscious state for just over 24 hours, initially for the surgery and then for an extended period where it was best you stay as calm as possible, thus the sedation. You’re in the recovery room in the back of my clinic. I’m sure you have a lot of questions, but rather answer them twice I think it's best if we bring in a visitor who’s been waiting to see you.” Moments later Amy entered the room, clearly just as anxious and confused as Chris was. Lily waited for her to give Chris a hug before speaking. “Sis, don’t look so worried. This was all his idea. Your husband clearly put a lot of thought into giving you a birthday gift that would go beyond all your expectations and keep on giving long after your big day passes. When he approached me I was reluctant to go along with it at first, but he convinced me that this is something you would love. It’s not exactly kosher medically speaking, but my attorney assures me that the waivers he signed are ironclad.” If Amy and Chris were puzzled before, they were doubly perplexed now. Chris didn’t remember signing a waiver or talking with Lily about anything surgical. He trusted Lily and tried not to let his bafflement show, but he was also hard pressed to think of any procedure that he would have agreed to whether it would please Amy or not. Lily noticed his pleading eyes and decided not to wait any longer to come clean. “Chris knows how much you yearn to care for an actual baby and has willingly subjected himself to the diapering and cute baby clothes, but he’s also aware that he’s resisted wearing diapers full time and using them for everything, and it’s also not authentic when he decides when and where he goes potty. For the full experience, he needs to lose total control over his bladder and bowels and he knew he couldn’t achieve that on his own, so he came to me.” Chris’s and Amy’s eyes both reacted but in much different ways. Amy’s sparkled with excitement but Chris’s showed disbelief and rage. Amy didn’t see this, as her full attention was focused on Lily, who continued. “So we performed a couple of procedures while you were away with Mom. Nothing too major. A little snip here, a cut there, and a couple of clamps, and now he’s completely incontinent on both ends. He’ll be peeing and pooping himself without control or warning just like any other infant. Wearing diapers won’t be a choice but a necessity. He can’t speak right now but wanted me to wish you a happy birthday on his behalf.” Amy practically jumped for joy and smothered Chris in slobbery kisses, muttering “thank you” at least twenty times. She couldn’t keep still even after standing back up. “Lily, I can’t thank you enough for your part in this. It’s truly the best gift ever by a mile. I didn’t even know that could be done.” Lily cautioned her. “Well, let me say that I’m not sure it has been done before, at least on purpose. I couldn’t find anything in the journals as a guide, so there are a lot of unknowns. It’s most likely that surgery to reverse it would do more harm than good and render him incontinent permanently, but I did what I could to give you the option of allowing him to regain control down the road. The cuts I made will eventually heal and the clamps should dissolve in about 18-24 months, which in theory will take away the artificial barriers to continence, but by that time his muscles will have atrophied and will need to be retrained. Essentially, and again this is an educated guess, you can try potty training him in around 2 years. That should help, but it’s possible that at best he’ll only regain partial control. There will always be accidents and you should never be too far away from a toilet. Training pants may be as much progress as he ever makes, with diapers essential at night or for any car trips longer than an hour or two.” This didn’t seem to bother Amy one bit. If anything, she was even more excited than before. Lily wasn’t done, however. “He did request one other, um, adjustment which I had some reservations about, although this one I believe I can reverse. For the time being, he won’t be able to achieve or obtain an erection. He explained that getting hard might spoil the illusion of infancy, plus if and when the occasion arises when he’ll have his diaper changed by a other women or even girls, and personally I think he’s underestimating how often that’ll happen, he didn’t want that to be an issue like it was with that hussy Rosie.” Amy looked at Chris with pity. “So he’s asexual now?” she asked. “Not at all,” Lily answered. “He’ll still get aroused mentally and feel a physical need to respond, it just won’t show in the typical way. It’ll be frustrating for him and frankly unhealthy if he doesn’t expel his juices regularly. You’ll have to learn to milk him. I’m sorry, I probably should have double checked with you but he was so insistent. But ultimately I went along, since given what you’ve told me about your sex life, I don’t see that this will affect you in the least.” “No,” Amy said wistfully, “although I’ll need to design a diaper that allows a dildo to be kept firmly in place and that won’t leak if he pees in it during the act.” Lily chuckled uncomfortably and Chris was horrified, mumbling from behind the pacifier. “That is,” Amy went on, “if I don’t start seeing him as a real baby because in that case any sexual activity would just be wrong. Maybe investing in something that stimulates his prostate remotely is the way to go. That way I won’t even need to be in the same room while he discharges his fluids.” All of a sudden Amy was in a hurry to leave, saying she had a lot of preparation to do. “He can go home tomorrow,” Lily said, “but if you need me to keep him another day let me know. Oh, and one other thing. For the next week or so, his bowels will be quite sensitive from the surgery. Only soft foods, preferably purees, while it heals.” Amy smiled broadly and danced from the room. She was barely out the door when Chris felt the back of his diaper fill and an awful odor filled the room. “That would have been the icing on the cake,” Lily laughed. “But I think she’s over the moon as it is.” She leaned down so that her mouth was close to his ear. “I told you that I’d do anything for my sister, and I meant it. This is your fault in a way for opening the door to the baby treatment, I just took it a step further. And she’ll like this so much better than the trip you wanted to give her. “By the way, I did make those vacation plans as our family birthday gift to her, although they might play out a bit differently now from what you imagined. Anyway, I’ll send Meagan in to change you shortly. It smells of dirty diaper in here.” With that, Lily left the room, leaving Chris to ponder his fate.

12. Amy seemed distant the next morning, or maybe she was just tired after getting home late. She admitted that her meeting had gone well but said little else during breakfast and didn’t even reach out to Chris to take his hand and lead him upstairs to remove his sodden diaper. Chris had been wondering how to tell her that his diaper had leaked during the night and was all set to put the blame on Rosie and her double bottles, but as he climbed the stairs decided not to say anything at all. He’d wait until she was barricaded in her office and throw the sheets in the wash. He didn’t want to add to her sour mood. Once he was strapped onto the changing table, Amy stood stock still for a few moments as if composing herself, then turned to Chris. “Is there something you want to tell me about last night?” she asked. She must have discovered the leaks, he thought. Better to come clean. “I’m sorry my diaper leaked, dear,” he said, “but she gave me so much to drink that it isn’t my fault.” Amy’s eyes opened wide. “You leaked? Again?” her voice rose with every word. She was angrier now than before. Chris was baffled. If it wasn’t the pissy sheets that was upsetting her, what could it be? When she returned from examining his bed, she could barely contain herself. “As if forcing your babysitter to give you a hand job wasn’t bad enough, you want to try to ruin another mattress,” she hissed. “Yes, she told me how you manipulated your dick as she tried to clean you up during your diaper change. Let’s look at the evidence, shall we?” Chris cringed as she opened up his diaper and easily identified the stain that wasn’t pee. She stared at his bottom for several seconds before disposing of his diaper and pulling the strap free from his chest. Without another word she stormed from the room. Chris dressed slowly, wincing as he pulled his underwear up over his sore behind. At least he didn’t have to be sneaky in washing the sheets now, he thought, although that little victory did little to ease his mind. He gathered up the sheets and brought them upstairs, then scrubbed the mattress, which fortunately was only a little damp. He sat on the edge of the bed thinking. It was Saturday, a day they usually spent together. They usually at the very least went out for lunch. Would they still be doing that today? He never had a chance to ask Amy. He heard her car drive away as he walked down the stairs. For the rest of the morning he tried to do some chores but couldn’t concentrate. He checked his phone every few minutes to see if he’d missed a text or a call, but nothing. Lunchtime came and went and, to his surprise, so did nap time and his early afternoon bottle and diapering. He thought about putting his own diaper on, as his initiative might score a few points with his wife, but in an uncharacteristic moment of defiance chose not to. When dinnertime came without any word, he began to get worried. Amy had been mad at him before, but this was on another level. And what she was angry about wasn’t even his fault. He didn’t have much of an appetite but forced some food down. At least dinner wasn’t pureed this time, he thought. He sat on the couch most of the evening alternating between not being able to concentrate on the novel he was reading to staring mindlessly at the tv, all the time listening for the garage door. Finally about 9:00 he moved up to his bedroom, stripped down to his undies, and laid on the bed staring at the ceiling. Chris was both thrilled and terrified when he heard someone moving about downstairs before footsteps creaked on the stairs. All day he was wishing for Amy to return but now that she was here, he wasn’t sure what he was going to say. Should he apologize for behavior that wasn’t his fault? Grovel? Try to offer an explanation? Or just wait for Amy to make the first move? He heard her pause outside his door and the tension as to whether she’d enter or move past to her room was unbearable. He sat up when the door began to open and didn’t even wait for Amy to show herself before crying out to her that he was sorry. Except the woman who emerged wasn’t Amy. It was Lily, carrying a bottle of formula in one hand and a small medical bag in the other. Chris froze and scrambled to pull a sheet over himself. “No need to cover up,” Lily said gently. “I’m going to see it all when I diaper you. Amy’s downstairs but doesn’t want to see you tonight, and I suggest you honor her wish. She still has steam coming out of her ears. Care to explain?” The last thing Chris wanted to do was relive his embarrassing uncontrolled ejaculation, or to discuss anything sexual with his wife’s sister, but it would at least give him a chance to give his side of the story to someone. He stammered and stuttered but eventually got the tale out. Lily chuckled when he got to the most humiliating parts but seemed sympathetic, although she wasn’t above driving the knife in a little deeper. “Do you have trouble lasting when you’re with Amy as well?” she asked with a broad grin. “You’d think she would be more understanding if you’re quick on the draw in bed and don’t have the ability to hold back even with the smallest amount of stimulation. But she’s always been quick to jump to conclusions or to play the victim. I’ll see what I can do to calm her down now that I know the story, but you might still want to tread carefully for a while. Now, Kristie—Amy’s decided that’s how we’re to refer to you from now on—let’s get this bottle taken care of before diaper time. Try not to cum while you’re nestled up next to my breasts.” Chris bit his lip rather than say what first came to his mind. Lily was the closest thing to an ally he had right now and he didn’t want to lose that. As he suckled, he tried to focus on anything but where his head was at rest. Fortunately Lily never tested his arousal level by putting her hand near his crotch. By the time the bottle drained dry, he managed to get things under control and avoid further embarrassment on the changing table. Lily began by locking Chris’s feet into the stirrups and taking a long look at his ass, making him uncomfortable. “That’s a pretty nasty case of diaper rash you have going, little girl,” she said. “Luckily, Amy tipped me off and I brought my bag.” She pulled on a pair of latex gloves and proceeded to squeeze some salve into her hand and apply it all over both his rear and front, smiling as she reached his penis. “Don’t you dare repeat what you did with the babysitter,” she warned. That wasn’t an issue, as Chris’s mind was elsewhere. “Lily, what can I do to get things back to normal, I mean as normal as things have been lately. I don’t want her to be mad at me but can’t exactly push this baby thing any further.” “Still resisting soiling yourself?” Lily asked. “That might do it, although with the current state of your butt I wouldn’t recommend it. I don’t know, Kristie. Her birthday’s coming up next weekend, maybe do something extra special for her.” “I was already thinking of planning a surprise weekend away,” he said. “I guess I could bring her somewhere she’s always wanted to go, but she’s never discussed travel with me. Do you have any ideas?” “First of all, don’t do it on her birthday weekend,” Lily answered. “She and our mom traditionally do something together and were talking about it today. So cross off Friday evening. I’ll be babysitting you that night, by the way. No Rosie to get in trouble with that night. “I do have a few ideas, though. Let me look into it and make the arrangements for the two of you, then you can pay me back. She gets nosy around her birthday and I guarantee you that she’ll be checking your phone and email and looking at your credit card statement for any clues as to what you’re getting her as a gift. This way there won’t be a trail for her to find.” “Lily, thank you so much,” Chris said sincerely. “On Friday you can tell me what I got for her and where we’re going. Oh, and thanks for the diaper change.” “You’re welcome, sweetie. Now let’s get you tucked in before I go down and try to do some damage control for you. Sleep tight.”

11. Over the next several days, Chris’s life returned to normal, if normal can be defined as days spent in sopping wet diapers and baby clothes, drinking formula twice per day. Bibs became a fixture at every meal and Amy regularly made use of the pacifier whenever her intuition told her Chris was about to complain. And she was usually right. Chris watched as the closet in his room began to fill with a colorful variety of dresses, while the drawers under the changing table contained an ever-growing number of rompers, onesies, and other infantile garb, all designed and sewn by his wife. Stacks of diaper seemed to pop up in multiple locations and cases of them were stacked in the closet. Chris once asked about returning to the master bedroom, which caused Amy to laugh at his thought that he was mature enough to sleep in “Mommy’s room.” It also dawned on him that they hadn’t had sex, even using the hollowed-out dildo, since his diapering began. Amy didn’t seem to be bothered by this despite her insatiable sex drive, leading Chris to conclude that the occasional buzzing he heard through the walls and Amy’s muffled screams were exactly what he’d feared they were. It wasn’t fair, he thought, so if she could pleasure herself he should be able to do the same. But the snug diapers proved to be as effective as any chastity cage, and even if he could cum, he had nowhere to hide the evidence. And so with each passing day he became more frustrated as his sexual desires built with no outlet to satisfy them. His job became his refuge away from this madness, despite having to navigate around his forced nap time, and being diapered for the last several hours of the workday. He panicked the first time he felt himself wetting his diaper while in the middle of an intense conversation with a client, as if somehow they could detect what was happening over the telephone line. He wondered if his voice would betray him, just one more thing to worry about. One Friday Amy seemed even more chipper than usual at lunch time. “I’ve got a meeting this afternoon with a manufacturer who’s enthusiastic about my new line of mother-baby clothing,” she told him. “And if all goes well I’m sure we’ll go out for dinner and drinks, so I may not be home until late.” Chris was elated. A chance to be on his own, as an adult, without no diaper or bottle to drink, and above all the chance to finally chase the elusive orgasm he’d been yearning for. He was already so horny that he felt sure he’d spontaneously ejaculate if he wasn’t able to release in more controlled and pleasurable circumstances. His bubble was quickly burst. “Of course, that means I won’t be here when you get up from your nap and might return after your bedtime,” Amy continued. “And based on your behavior when left to your own devices I can’t leave you unsupervised. Do you remember that pretty young college girl who served us when we went out to eat last week? She’s volunteered to be your babysitter! Isn’t that good news?” Chris was stunned into silence, which Amy took as confirmation that he was as excited for Rosie’s availability as she was. “Anyway, I shouldn’t have to review the rules, but this is a new situation for you so we’d better be safe. As an adult, she’s in charge. That means whatever she says goes, with no debating or whining on your part. And this doesn’t change the fact you can’t touch or change your own diapers, or even tell her that you need changing. In fact it might be best if you keep your binkie in the whole time. Anything I can do with you, she can do. Well...” Amy tittered, “almost anything. So you be on your best behavior. Any report of naughtiness will result in a punishment.” She glanced at the clock. “Ooh, I didn’t realize what time it was. Let’s get you settled for an early nap so that I can get ready.” She led Chris upstairs, stripped him, diapered him, then thought for a minute before pulling out a mint-colored floral romper with lace at the arm and leg openings, a ruffled bottom, and a bow in the center. The diaper area was lined with plastic on the inside. It was one of the most ghastly things Chris had ever seen. Once she had it on him, he could tell the bottom of the outfit ballooned out, leaving no doubt as to what lay beneath. Amy slipped a pair of lacy ankle socks on his feet then clipped two pink bows in his hair as a finishing touch. “Such a pretty girl,” she muttered under her breath. Chris couldn’t sleep knowing what was in store. He wondered if Rosie would view him as a freak, or maybe sympathize with his plight and allow him to act grown up. It would make her job easier and it would be their secret. He ran various scenarios that would make this happen through his head as he heard Amy’s hair dryer, then her making noise downstairs as it seemed like she was moving furniture. Eventually the doorbell rang and voices exchanged greetings before they moved out of hearing range. The front door shut loudly about ten minutes later. It was another half hour or so before Rosie entered the room. She was wearing short shorts and a halter top that barely held in her generous chest, and Chris was determined not to give her the satisfaction of staring. He waited a moment too long to feign sleep, though, so she wasn’t fooled. “Well, aren’t you the cutest thing,” she cooed as she sat on the edge of the bed. “Did you have a nice nap? We’re going to have just the best time together while your Mommy’s off doing big person stuff, but first let me check your diaper.” Rather than feel the outside of the diaper, or at most put a finger or two inside one of the leg gathers, Rosie put her full hand down the front, moving it around to various spots and with each movement brushing up against Chris’s penis. To his dismay, and totally against his will, he began to respond. He looked away, but not before he saw Rosie smirk. “All dry for now,” she announced. “Good girl, Chrissie.” Now would be the time to put a stop to the baby girl treatment, he thought to himself, before she immersed herself in the illusion. He opened his mouth and began to speak, but a pacifier beat him to it. Rosie held it in place and leaned down until she was inches away from his face. “I’ve been hired to sit a baby”, she said forcefully. “And your Mommy made it clear that I’m to report any behavior suggesting otherwise. Now,” she went on with a cloying sweetness, “shall we move downstairs and play some games?” When they reached the top of the stairs Rosie released his hand and gently pushed him into a seated position. “Little children go downstairs on their bottoms,” she told him. Chris was almost glad to have the pacifier reminding him not to speak out, as the temptation to respond to her treatment of him in the first few minutes was overwhelming, but she wasn’t done. “Crawl,” she commanded when he got to the bottom landing. “Over into your playpen.” Playpen? Chris thought. I don’t have a playpen. He was proven wrong two seconds later as he entered the living room and immediately came face to face with a set of wooden bars. He pulled back to get a better view. Before him sat a playpen identical in every way to a baby’s, only bigger, right down to the insets with little wooden balls to slide back and forth and plastic toys to spin. A rag doll in a dress identical to his own sat in one corner. Soft blocks and an assortment of rattles were scattered around the floor of the playpen. He moved forward when Rosie pushed him on his bottom. She followed him in and latched the door behind her. “Look at your doll, sweetie!” she said. “It’s dressed just like you but with one big difference.” Rosie lifted the doll’s dress with one hand and Chris’s with the other. “She doesn’t wear diapers. She must be potty trained and do her peepee and poopoo on the toilet. Your mommy tells me you’re headed in the other direction.” For the next hour, Rosie encouraged Chris to build small towers with the blocks, or to shake the rattles. She played peek-a-boo and other infantile games and made sure Chris played along with subtle threats. Finally she reached down inside his diaper again and this time gave him an unwelcome squeeze. “Mmm,” she said. “Baby must not be getting enough fluids.” With that she left the playpen and disappeared into the kitchen. When she returned, she brought a baby bottle filled to the brim with formula. Chris grunted and tried to make her understand that he only drank a bottle before naptime and bedtime, but without the use of words only made him look ridiculous. Rosie laughed. “Look how excited you are to get your bottle!” She leaned up against one side of the playpen and lowered Chris’s head onto her lap, nestled tightly into her breasts. He could barely pull away enough for her to guide the nipple of the bottle into his mouth. Rosie sang a soft lullaby as he drank. As his body relaxed, he recognized the ache of his bladder and tried to remember how long it had been since he used the toilet. Mid-morning at the latest, he thought. The thought of Rosie discovering that he’s using the diaper horrified him, but bedtime was long off. He’d try his best to put it off as long as he could. The large amount of warm formula wasn’t helping. He was happy when he began to breathe air, but was in for a surprise. “That formula must taste pretty awful, huh?” Rosie said with a smile as she set the bottle down. “Let’s give you something to get that taste out of your mouth.” From somewhere she produced a second bottle, this one filled with apple juice. Chris didn’t even know Amy had bought more than one bottle. He didn’t know how his body could find the room to fit twenty more ounces inside. His body had a solution, however. He was about halfway through with the juice and slowing down when his bladder betrayed him and he uncontrollably began to wet himself. Slow at first, the harder he tried to stop the flow the faster and harder it left his body. He tried not to betray what was happening, but Rosie knew and put her hand down to feel. How is it women always know, Chris wondered. “That’s my baby girl,” she whispered before leaning down to put her mouth next to his ear. “And how humiliating it must be to be pissing a diaper in front of a sexy woman younger than you are. A diaper with a design more infantile than a real baby’s, covered with a dress even a two-year-old would find too babyish to wear. No one will believe it. Next time I’m bringing a couple of friends. Well, enjoy your smelly pants, baby. I won’t be changing you until bedtime.” Rosie forced the bottle’s nipple back into his mouth and kept it there until Chris managed to get the remainder of the juice down. She then had him crawl into the playpen, where he stayed while she scrolled her phone, occasionally looking over at him and smiling. About an hour later the two bottles caught up to him and he peed so much that he leaked, a puddle spreading out and soaking the hem of his dress. It took a long time before Rosie noticed. With a disgusted click of her tongue she got up and went upstairs, returning with a wet rag and a pair of plastic pants. Soon the floor of his playpen was dry but he was sitting in an overflowing diaper and starting to itch all over his bottom. And he was bored. Eventually Rosie turned on the television, changing channels until she found programming aimed at toddlers. Time passed slowly. At first Chris thought having the television on despite its infantile content would be better than nothing, but his interest quickly waned. He was staring at the screen in disbelief at a pink mother bear telling a blue baby bear that there was nothing to be ashamed of for soiling his pants at the park when Rosie opened the playpen door behind him. “Interesting lesson they’re teaching there,” she said sarcastically. “But appropriate for present company, don’t you think? C’mon, stinky bottom, if you can tear yourself away from the tv crawl into the kitchen and get some dinner.” Crawling caused his saturated diaper to shift and bring urine to the last dry areas of both his diaper and his skin. Its weight made even crawling challenging and he moved slowly. By the time he got to the kitchen, Rosie was hovering, tapping her foot impatiently. She pointed to a chair covered with two dish towels and he sat down with a squish. Seconds later she tied a bib on and placed a plate on the table in front of him covered in three different colored piles of mush: pale green, purple, and a dismal gray, all of which were mixing together at the edges. Chris gagged. “Your mommy didn’t let me know if I was supposed to blend your dinner up or not, so I did. I assumed that anyone still so far from being potty trained and who drinks from a baby bottle isn’t chewing her food yet. Let’s get this over with, the smell of this stuff is going to make me barf.” Chris reached for the spoon but had his hand slapped away. Rosie dipped the spoon in the purple mess first and shoved it in his mouth. It was horrific and before he could push it back out of his mouth she was there with an overflowing spoon of the green stuff, which tasted worse. Chris was faced with a decision. Swallow or gag to death. He’d barely swallowed when the gray stuff made its appearance, and it was the worst of all. Rosie seemed to take joy in missing his mouth, and in scraping the food on his face back in deliberately smeared its path. Blobs of mush fell onto his bib, most of which also found its way back onto the spoon. Chris estimated that only around half of his dinner made it to his stomach and he was still hungry, but he wasn’t about to ask for more. He wasn’t sure he could keep this down. His thoughts were interrupted by the flash of Rosie’s cell phone camera. He reflexively reached for it. “Nuh uh, baby. Your mommy just texted me asking for a picture and I bet she’ll like this one.” A second later her phone dinged. “Yep,” Rosie said happily. “She loves it.” The evening dragged on and as every minute ticked away Chris’s bottom became more sore. He was certain that Rosie moved his bedtime up by at least an hour but he wasn’t going to complain. He needed to be changed. He’s never worn a diaper this wet. Rosie was delighted to find the Velcro strap and adjusted it so that it was so tight Chris couldn’t even wiggle. Nevertheless, he sighed with relief when she untaped and opened his diaper. The fresh air against his skin felt so good. He flinched as she wiped his bottom and if there was no strap would have jumped up off the table when she pushed a wipe-covered finder up his bottom and moved it around as she looked for something, keeping it there and adding pressure. Chris arched his hips and his member began to harden. He closed his eyes and tried willing himself to get soft without success. Then suddenly, as he felt himself on the verge of losing control, she pulled her finger out in order to pull the used diaper out from under him and replace it with a fresh one. Unfortunately for Chris, she wasn’t done teasing. She slowly stroked him as she cleaned his penis, then squirted a large dollop of baby lotion on and began to work it in, over and over. Chris clenched his teeth. He’d been so horny and even under these circumstances was rapidly building to a climax. He groaned from behind his pacifier then made the mistake of opening his eyes. Rosie hovered above him, her breasts having escaped from their halter prison. It was all too much. Chris cried out and exploded with pleasure as Rosie raised the diaper and caught his load in its folds. “Goodness,” she said. “What will your mommy think of that? I’ve heard babies get erections during diaper changes and sometimes send a steam of pee flying, but this is new. Lucky we caught it all in time.” As she spoke, Rosie pulled the diaper into place and began to fasten the tapes. Chris could feel the mess spread over his belly. He was in a panic. If Amy ever found out about this, he was dead. He was so distracted in his worries that he didn’t notice Rosie had again prepared two bottles until he felt the sweet apple juice replace the taste of formula. He heard her mumble something about “no crib?” as she tucked him in. “Do you want a bedtime story?” she asked him. “Once upon a time there was a little girl who thought she was a man. His mommy kept her in diapers for part of each day but let him think she was a grownup sometimes and only wear panties, eat real food, and sleep in a bed. But one day the little girl did something really naughty and when her mommy found out, she made sure her little girl was a baby 24/7. From then on the girl never used a potty again and made stinky and weewee pants and ate in a highchair and slept in a crib and had her messy diaper changed in a restaurant where everyone could see. The end.” Chris cried as Rosie closed the door and lay in bed, sleepless, well into the night.

10. Chris wasn’t sure if he was supposed to wait for Amy to come into his room in the morning or if he could seek her out to get his diaper off. Already wet when he woke up, he released his morning pee while he waited, and as a result the diaper was heavy and sagging. He finally decided that Amy might be sleeping off a hangover but that waking her up rather than leaking all over his sheets would be the lesser evil. She wasn’t in their bedroom but he could hear noises downstairs, where he found her in the kitchen making herself some tea and toast. Despite the amount she had to drink the night before, she seemed energetic and cheerful. “Good morning, sunshine!” she cooed. “How did my little girl sleep?” “Mmph,” Chris grunted. “Amy, about last night...” She cut him off before he could continue. “Be careful what you say, baby. If one word out of your mouth is to complain about anything that happened with my mom and sisters, I suggest you reconsider. You were wearing a diaper—a well-used one I might add—and a little girl’s outfit, so it was only natural that any woman’s first instinct would be to treat you like any other baby in need of care. And don’t tell me you didn’t appreciate the attention. I was in a group chat with my sisters this morning and they absolutely loved this side of you and expect you to be my infant daughter the next time we get together as well. Furthermore—wait, where are the bows in your hair?” “They were uncomfortable when I had my head on my pillow and I couldn’t sleep,” Chris said defensively. “I took them out.” Amy’s eyes flared. “Do I need to remind you that anything I or any other grownup puts you in or on stays put until removed by an adult? Beth was just showing her love when she clipped those on and taking them off is an affront to her affection. You have a lot to learn, baby, and if it takes periodic punishment to get these lessons across, that’ll be the way it is. I’ll let it slide you this time, only because of how cute you look in your smelly diaper, but watch yourself. I won’t always be so forgiving. Your breakfast can wait. Let’s get you out of that thing before I have a puddle to clean.” Chris half expected Amy to try to put a clean diaper on him, but it was business as usual once she cleaned him up other than her comment that the room was beginning to smell like a nursery. He showered and dressed, and nothing more was mentioned about the previous evening’s events by either of them as the day went on. He was just beginning to relax and get back to normal when Amy announced that it was nap time. Chris groaned, soliciting a stern glance from Amy, but followed her upstairs. As she strapped him onto the changing table and pulled out a diaper, though, Lily’s words about not allowing things to get too far came back into his mind. “Amy, is this really necessary? I mean, I went along with sleeping in diapers, and the bedtime apparel, and even the bottle feeding, but can’t we confine all of that to nighttime? I am an adult, after all?” Amy stared at him for a long time without speaking, then left the room, leaving him helpless on the table. When she returned with a bottle, she also had something new in her hand. It was a pacifier with an enormously large teat, clearly big enough to fill an adult mouth, dangling from a clip. “I hadn’t planned to use this,” she said, “but I think it can act as an effective reminder for you to think twice before saying something you’ll regret. For now, except when you need to talk for work or unless I take it out, it’s to stay in. And I want you to get used to sucking on it, to strengthen your jaw. We may have to up the number of times you nurse each day.” To Chris, this crossed a line. When he opened his mouth to protest, though, Amy immediately shoved the pacifier in and held it in place. “It came with a locking strap to prevent you from taking it out, but I won’t need to use that, will I?” Chris’s defiance instantly deflated, more out of fear than cooperation. He shook his head. Neither of them spoke as they moved to the bed and positioned themselves for the bottle feed. When he finished, Amy surprised him by producing a cloth diaper and placing it over her shoulder. “Sit up, baby,” she told him. “Let’s get you burped.” Chris awkwardly leaned over her shoulder as she patted and rubbed his back. Eventually, to his own surprise, a small belch came out. Amy was clearly pleased as she tucked him under the covers, humming as she left the room. When she returned an hour later, she carried with her yet another new outfit for him to try on. This time it was a set of light blue bib shortalls and a white shirt with colored stipes around the end of the sleeves to go under them. Chris thought he’d try to make amends by complementing Amy on her workmanship, but when he went to speak what came out was garbled. He’d forgotten about the pacifier and was shocked to learn it was still in his mouth. “What’s that sweetie?” Amy teased. “Are you trying to use your big words?” She felt his crotch and announced he was damp—another surprise to Chris if true—but not wet enough to need a change. He endured her usual fussing with the fit while she took notes and a few pictures, then finally pronounced herself satisfied. “I’ve got a few things to do for work,” she told him. “I won’t be long. I assume you can find a way to stay busy?” Rather than endure another tease about his infantile speech, Chris simply nodded. Amy smiled and kissed his forehead, then headed downstairs. Chris followed suit a few minutes later and decided to deep clean the kitchen. Maybe he could score a few points with her that way. It was close to 5:30 by the time he was finishing up, and he began to take some food out of the refrigerator to plan dinner when Amy entered the room. “Chrissie, the kitchen practically sparkles!” she said. “It would be a shame to mess it up already by cooking in it. We’re going to go out for dinner tonight.” It wasn’t a request. Chris moved to take the pacifier out of his mouth to ask a question, saw Amy’s face darken, then dropped his hand. “I assume I can change my clothes first?” he muttered naively. Amy frowned and pulled out a chair. “Sit down, baby. Look, I know this is new to you, but it’s important that we stick to the rules we’ve laid out, and one of them is that you stay in your diapers from naptime on along with clothing appropriate for someone who wears still needs their protection. After your whining this morning about your so-called “exposure” to my family, I realized that you need to get used to being out in public. So no, you won’t be changing. This isn’t a punishment, it’s for your own good. Similar to being thrown into the deep end of a pool to learn how to swim. You’ll see, it’s won’t be so bad and it’ll make future trips out so much easier. “But,” she continued in a much more firm tone, “if you make this difficult at the restaurant, things can get much worse. How does having your diaper changed on the floor of the ladies’ room sound? Or being given a bottle of formula at the table? I didn’t think so. Now that we’re clear on the rules of behavior, let me grab your diaper bag and let’s go.” Chris didn’t see his shoes anywhere and wasn’t surprised when Amy handed him Beth’s sandals, which had a flower prominently displayed where the straps met on top. He dawdled, trying to find a way out, even thinking of feigning a panic attack or stroke, but in the end, to his own shame, headed out the door. Amy took his pacifier out but hooked in onto the handles of the diaper bag, where it was plainly visible. To Amy’s credit, at least they didn’t go to one of their local favorites, instead driving across town to a family restaurant, the kind with vinyl booths and plasticized menus offering pages of options. As they entered, Chris felt like every eye was turned toward him. He needed to get to the table, fast. The hostess hid a smirk as she led them to a booth at the far end, forcing him to walk by every customer in the place. He slid into the booth as fast as he could. “Rosie will be your server,” the hostess announced, handing them the menus. “She’ll be right with you.” With an old-fashioned name, Chris expected the waitress to be in her fifties, so he was surprised when a young blonde woman of nineteen or twenty approached the table. Her eyes widened in surprise as she first focused on the diaper bag, with the pacifier hanging in plain sight and a baby bottle of milk in one pocket. Her gaze shifted past Amy and landed on Chris, where she spent more time than she should have staring at the bulge in his midsection. “Good evening, folks, is this your first time here? My name is Rosie. Can I get you anything while you peruse the menu?” “I’d love a cup of hot tea,” Amy replied. “And Kristie will have a glass of milk, in a plastic cup if you have one. And do you have crayons?” Rosie suppressed a laugh but was able to say that she’d be right back. When she was gone, Chris had to say something. “Amy—” he began, but stopped short as he watched Amy open the zipper on the diaper bag and pull one of his diapers out part way, the infantile design clearly visible. “You were saying?” she said in a cloying voice. Chris quickly shut up, and Rosie returned a minute later, placing a small pot of tea in front of Amy and a yellow plastic cup with a lid in front of Chris. As she put the page of a coloring book and two crayons on the table, her eyes took in and remained for a few seconds on the diaper bag. Again, she glanced down below Chris’s crotch, then slowly made their way up his shortalls, stopping on the design. This time she didn’t hide her grin. “One quick question, if you don’t mind,” Amy piped in. “Does the women’s room have a changing table?” “No Ma’am,” Rosie answered. “Most women change their babies on the floor and we’ve even had a few change them on the vinyl seats of the booths.” She looked directly at Chris. “Obviously we frown on that. Now, can I take your order?” “I’ll have the club sandwich with fruit, please,” Amy said. “And he’ll have the child’s grilled cheese with carrots.” Rosie again chuckled before leaving the table. Chris watched her as she walked away, her shoulders shaking. She walked behind the counter and began talking with another waitress, both of them staring and smiling in his direction as they conversed. “Eyes over here, young lady,” Amy ordered. “Kristie, we need to make sure you know it’s okay to act the same way here as you would at home. First, color that butterfly. While you’re doing that, I want you to wet your diaper. You have until our food gets here.” Chris’s mouth dropped open in shock. He not only didn’t want to do it, he wasn’t sure he could. Sure, his bladder was full, but letting loose with all of these people around? Reading his thoughts, Amy silently moved her hand over to the baby bottle and began to pull it out. “I’m trying,” he said, louder than he meant to. He avoided looking around, pretending to concentrate on the picture while doing everything he could to force some pee out into his diaper. Minutes passed with nothing. He closed his eyes as his thoughts turned to running water, bathrooms, and waterfalls. Finally, he was able to start a dribble. Relaxing with relief, his bladder opened wide and a strong, unstoppable stream flowed unabated into his diaper. It seemed to go on forever. Once done, Chris opened his eyes to see both Amy and Rosie staring at him. Rosie set the food down in front of them. “Would you like me to cut up his grilled cheese?” she asked Amy, who happily assented. As she leaned down over Chris’s plate to perform the task, she sniffed the air, looked Chris in the eyes, and shook her head. “I’ve always heard boys take longer,” she said to Amy as she turned to walk away. Chris hesitated to start eating just long enough for Amy to assume he was resisting his child’s plate of food. She reached into the diaper bag and pulled out a bib similar to the one he’d been forced to wear at Beth’s. Without a word, she tied it around Chris’s neck and began eating her own food. Chris picked up one of the small squares of sandwich and put it in his mouth. It was dry, causing him to use the sippy cup of milk. He felt that every eye in the restaurant was on him. After what seemed like hours, their meal was done and Rosie brought the check. Chris waited impatiently by the door as Amy paid the tab at the register and chatted briefly with Rosie. He was emotionally spent and could tell his diaper had visibly expanded and begun to smell, announcing his shame to the world. As he sat in the passenger seat of their car, he barely noticed as Amy stood at his door, reaching across his chest and pulling his seat belt toward her, clicking it shut. “There we go, baby,” she said as she moved around to the driver’s side and started the engine. “See, I told you that wouldn’t be so bad.”

9. Chris knew better than to interrupt Amy when she was working with her door closed, so he used his free time to catch up on errands he’d been putting off. He brought a big box that was delivered inside and finished leveling the legs on the kitchen table, and had just started making himself a protein shake when Amy entered the kitchen and asked him to double the recipe. “It’s been a really productive day so far,” she told him as she finished the last few sips, “and I have you to thank in part for that. A couple of things you’ve said or done over the past few days have tickled some part of my brain that led to a burst of creativity and energy. I’m sure you have no idea what I’m referring to, but thanks nonetheless.” She rose from the table and kissed him on the cheek. She was right, Chris was completely clueless, but he was happy to accept the credit for whatever she was doing. “Anyway,” Amy continued, “I want to get back to it right away and won’t want to take another break. I know it’s a little early for your nap, but let’s get you settled so that I can continue my work. I’ll warm your bottle and meet you by the changing table in a few. Your onesie should be in one of the drawers.” She immediately turned away and began her task, clearly confident that Chris would obey her without a second thought. She was right that he’d move upstairs without saying anything, but his mind was racing with multiple thoughts. He hadn’t really consented to a daily nap, or a mid-day bottle, or wearing the baby clothes she’d designed during the day, nap or no nap. Part of him was still reveling in her positive comments and encouraging him to just go with the flow, but another part nagged him to be a man and resist. He was still debating when Amy joined him in the spare bedroom. “You’re still in your jeans? Maybe you were waiting for Mommy to undress you? Fine, I should know better than to expect you to take on a grownup job. Turn toward me so that I can help.” Chris remained silent, realizing the part of his brain telling him to push back on the infantile treatment had fizzled away. And he was a little tired from all the activity he’d done after getting up too early. He’d just lay down for an hour and scroll on his phone before watching some sports in the living room. “By the way,” Amy said once he was strapped down, “that box you brought in contained some of the thicker diapers I’d ordered, so we won’t need to double diaper you this time. Aren’t they the cutest thing?” She held up the diaper she was shaking out. To Chris’s horror, it was covered in pink and blue rattles and diaper pins with the word “Baby” in big letters across the front and a red diamond labeled “Toxic Gas” on the rear. “I won’t insert a booster this time,” Amy continued. “Supposedly when the crotch of this diaper gets wet, it turns a bright yellow and I want to see if it works.” It was at that moment, as she began wrapping Chris up in the humiliating diaper, that it dawned on him that he hadn’t used the bathroom since his usual 10:00 a.m. bowel movement. Any ideas he may have had to hold his urine until bedtime, difficult in the best of circumstances, were dashed. Amy encouraged Chris to drink down his formula quickly so that she could get back to work and he did his best to do so, more to be left alone than to follow her demands. It should have been no surprise that his rushing created an excess of air bubbles in his throat, which erupted in a loud belch as soon as she removed the empty bottle from his mouth. “Oh my!” Amy was startled. “I’m so sorry. I’ll try to remember to burp you from now on, and maybe make something to keep your outfits free from spit-up stains. Sleep well, dear. Remember to leave your onesie after your nap. You can get up on your own, can’t you?” Without waiting for or even expecting an answer, Amy turned out the light and shut the door. Chris was determined to stay awake as his own little rebellion against forced napping, and was proud that he made it an hour without falling asleep or christening the new diaper. He moved downstairs, made himself some iced tea, and settled onto the couch to watch television. The game was lopsided and he was thinking of changing the channel when he felt himself being shaken on the shoulder. “Baby, wake up.” It was Amy. Chris’s glance at the tv showed there were two completely different teams playing. “It’s after 3:00, dear. My mom called and we’re invited over to Beth’s house for dinner. She’d like us there as soon as we can make it. I’ve already loaded up the car.” Loaded what up, Chris wondered. He would have asked but a bigger concern was on his mind. “Um, Amy, I can change out of this stuff, right?” Amy stood above him, her face stern. “Baby, just because we’re leaving the house doesn’t change the rules. The diaper and onesie stay on. Of course, you can put pants and a shirt over them if you like, but don’t dawdle. We don’t want to be late.” As Chris stood up, he felt the diaper sag between his legs. It was just the additional bulk, he told himself. There’s no way he wet it in his sleep. He didn’t want to check with Amy nearby, if fact he was so fearful of what he mind find that he didn’t want to check at all. He hurried upstairs to throw some clothes on before she changed her mind. His jeans wouldn’t fit over the bulk in his middle, but he found some decent-looking sweatpants and slipped them on. As they were driving, Chris noticed a dark garment bag hanging from one of the rear seat hooks and asked about it. “I told my sisters about my new line and they want to see a few of the things that I’ve been working on,” she said. “You’re probably curious too, so I figured this would be a good opportunity to get some feedback.” They drove the rest of the way in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. When they arrived, Amy took the garment bag out and handed it to Chris to carry. She then reached down in the back seat and pulled out what at first appeared to be a gym bag. Upon further inspection, Chris realized with horror that it was an oversized diaper bag with cartoon farm animals scattered over a quilted pink background. Worse, sitting prominently in one of the outer side pockets, was a baby bottle filled to the brim with a white liquid. Chris stopped cold and blocked Amy’s path to the front door. “Amy, you can’t bring that inside. Your family can’t know anything about what you’re making me wear.” Amy’s eyes blazed. “First of all, I’m not ‘making you wear’ anything. You have an issue staying dry and we agreed diapers are the sensible solution. And we’re not about to stay isolated in the house until you master potty training, because from what I can see that’s far down the road. You need to get used to wearing protection out in public. That being said, I was going to hide this diaper bag in the baby’s nursery and if you felt like you’d reached capacity, we could find an excuse to go there for a quick change. But if you don’t move aside in the next five seconds, I’ll set it down in front of everyone and announce the real reason I brought it.” Chris had never moved so fast. Amy took the garment bag from his hands and slung it over the diaper bag just as the door opened to let them in. She brought them both upstairs after admonishing her mother and sisters not to peek, and Chris let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Beth’s husband was traveling, so it turned out to be four women and Chris. The wine flowed freely and the conversation became increasingly bawdy and often focused on family history that he of course hadn’t been a part of, so when Beth suggested he go to the den to play some video games he jumped at the chance. Even there, she could hear the shrieks of laughter from the inebriated women. Sometime later the door opened behind him and Amy entered. “We need you in the living room,” she said, her words slurred. Chris assumed he would be asked to assist cleaning up a spill, or to go out for more wine, or possibly to assist with dinner. When he got there, though, he was horrified to see the diaper bag sitting on the living room floor in plain sight. “Beth found it when she went upstairs to change the baby,” Amy explained in between giggles. “And I don’t lie to my family. I had to tell them it’s yours. Now they want to see your diaper.” The other women roared their assent. Chris turned around to beat a quick retreat but was blocked by Amy and Lily. They each grabbed one of his arms while Beth untied the drawstring and pulled down his sweatpants before he could react. They howled seeing the bottom part of his onesie. A second or two later his sweatshirt was pulled over his head. “That’s so adorable!” Beth cried. “I want one for my own baby. Oh...look! It’s got snaps in the crotch! Does baby need a change?” She didn’t wait for an answer and quickly unsnapped Chris, pulling up the onesie and revealing the infantile diaper with a bright yellow patch disclosing its condition. This delighted the women and even Amy’s mom was laughing. Chris was ready to cry, which was exactly the wrong expression to show given the situation. “I think baby Chrissie wants her bottle,” Lily said. “Amy, can I give it to her while you show us the outfits you’ve been making?” Amy disappeared up the stairs while Lily and Beth led Chris to the couch. Chris knew he’d be in huge trouble using any sort of force to resist. All he could do is hope that the women were all so drunk that none of them would remember this later. Lily propped his head up on a throw pillow and positioned herself so that his face was nearly buried in her breasts. Seconds later the bottle’s nipple found his mouth. The formula was cold and disgusting, but asking for it to be warmed might be interpreted as assent to the infantile treatment. He heard rather than saw Amy return. From the oohs and aahs and comments he deduced that she’d brought three different outfits. One was clearly the favorite. “That one!” they all decided, but for what he had no idea. He kept his eyes closed, not wanting to see. The answer came soon enough. The nearly empty bottle was pulled from his mouth and Lily slid him to a sitting position on the floor. The onesie, already unsnapped, was pulled off of him and something else immediately brought back down over his head. Beth and Amy’s mom each took an arm and guided them through some sleeves. Amy slid a pair of panties up his legs. They guided him to his feet. Chris opened his eyes to applause from the group. Reluctantly he looked down. He was wearing a pink and purple baby dress with layers of lace and a lace-trimmed bodice adorned with a pair of baby bears in diapers, one pink and one blue, in the center. He couldn’t see the panties through the poofiness of the dress’s built in petticoat but was told that they matched the dress and had layers of ruffles on the bottom. He was humiliated beyond belief. “Sit back down, here between my legs,” Beth ordered. She proceeded to brush his hair and clip at least a dozen bows in it. Chris tried to imagine himself somewhere else but several flashes from at least two cell phone cameras foiled his plan. He jumped when he felt Beth put her hand down the front of his diaper cover. “Pretty wet, but she can wait,” Beth announced. “Let’s put the babies in the playpen while we go make dinner. Mom, can you keep an eye on them?” And so Chris found himself sitting among soft blocks and rattles with a baby eyeing him suspiciously, as if he would steal her toys. As bad as things were, they got worse. When dinner was ready, Amy fed Beth’s baby while the others took turn feeding Chris, but only after Amy produced a large bib saying “Mommy’s Messy Eater.” He wasn’t sure if it was intentional by the women or a result of their drunkenness that the bib was covered in stains by the end of the meal. After dinner, he was placed back in the playpen while the women cleared the table and did the dishes, then continued to chat and gossip. Eventually they returned to the living room and seemed to settle down. Amy fed Katie her bedtime bottle, after which the baby fell asleep in her arms. “Lily,” Amy whispered. “We’ll need to get going soon. Would you do me a favor and check Kristie’s diaper, then change her if she needs it?” Lily smirked as she walked in Chris’s direction. Placing her hand directly on his diaper, then sticking a finger inside, she announced to the room that he was soaked and in danger of leaking. There was an abundance of tittering as she grabbed his diaper bag and led him upstairs to the nursery, with every woman reaching out to feel his crotch along the way. The quiet of the nursery was a welcome change. Lily spread a changing pad on the floor near the crib and Chris carefully laid down in its center, holding the hem of the dress and underlying petticoat out of harm’s way at Lily’s request. He flinched as she pulled down the diaper cover and readied herself to undo the tapes. “Whew! You really did a number on this diaper, Kristie. Let’s assess the damage, shall we?” She proceeded to rip the tapes off and pull the diaper down. Cool air immediately hit his private area. Chris couldn’t ignore hearing Lily’s derisive snort. “I’m sorry, baby. I just didn’t expect to see you shaved down there. The lack of hair makes it look kind of tiny and it took me by surprise.” She continued to address him as she wiped him down. “I have to say I’m thrilled that you found a way to help Amy with her depression, but I’m also surprised you took it this far. Letting her diaper you I kind of understand, but using them? Allowing her to dress you in baby clothes and feed you from a bottle? A bib? Diaper bag? That’s a pretty big commitment. What led you to come up with this idea?” “Um, it just kind of happened,” Chris replied. “One thing led to another and before I knew it I’m where you see me now.” “Understood,” Lily said. “You wanted to do whatever it takes to make her happy and were afraid to stop. I can tell you’ve reached the limit of how far you’re willing to go. But I know Amy. Once she starts something she’s going to take it to the finish line no matter what it takes. You opened the door and now she’ll be like an out-of-control locomotive. If you don’t put your foot down soon, you’ll regret it. This may only be the beginning. “I’ll tell you what I mean. In the kitchen, she asked Beth a million questions about breast feeding. How it feels, how it changes the body, whether it deepened bonding between mother and child, and so forth. Then she asked me if I could get her a prescription for domperidone, a medication that induces lactation.” “You didn’t agree to do that, did you?” Chris asked in astonishment. “Of course I did, along with a couple of other drugs to help out. She’s my sister after all. I don’t know that she’ll go through with it. You know how particular she is about dressing just right and how her clothes are all tailored to fit. If her breasts engorge with milk, she won’t fit in any of her tops. So she may abandon that idea. “But that’s not all. She bitched about how you refuse to dirty a diaper, that you’re depriving her of one of the major aspects of motherhood. That’s another red flag. No mother wants to change a stinky diaper, they’re revolting and no offense but yours would be bigger and way worse. There’s no way she would want to do that unless she’s beginning to perceive you as an actual infant. So, take care, Chris. Just a friendly warning. Okay, I think you’re all set.” Chris had never been so happy to leave a gathering, to end the embarrassment. It wasn’t quite done yet, however. Every woman had to pat his diapered bottom before he left. Worse, none of them would admit to knowing where his adult clothes were, forcing him to drive home in the dress and a pair of sandals borrowed from Beth. Once home, he had to assist Amy up the stairs and then carry her to bed, where he undressed her and tucked her in. His side of the bed still wasn’t dry, so he reluctantly retreated to the spare bedroom, where he discovered that he couldn’t reach the zipper to allow him to take off the dress. He finally gave up, frustrated, and crawled into bed, wishing upon a star that he’d wake up and this would have been nothing but a bad dream.

8. “Silly me,” Amy chided herself when she returned to the bedroom. “I forgot to get you diapered up before your feeding. Let’s go, little one.” She reached out for Chris’s hand, a small gesture that would normally have no significance but lately had made him feel small, as if he actually needed to be led upstairs. Nevertheless, he meekly complied. When they reached the top landing, he automatically began walking toward their bedroom but was halted by Amy’s firm tug on his arm. “No, not Mommy’s room tonight, baby,” she told him. “Your side of the bed is still damp from when you scrubbed it earlier. I’ve made other arrangements for you.” She took a short detour and guided him into the guest bedroom across the hall. At first Chris didn’t notice the changes but as he looked more closely he began to panic. The twin bed was still where it had always been, but in place of the nice blue sheets they saved for guests were light lilac-colored sheets adorned with unicorns and fairies. The plain white comforter had been replaced by a baby pink one. Against the wall across from the bed, the long six-drawer dresser was topped by a waterproof changing pad with pictures of baby animals in diapers on it. New additions flanked each side of the dresser. On one side was a small three-shelved cart holding assorted creams and powders as well as a container of baby wipes. On the other side was perhaps the most degrading thing of all—a large white diaper pail on which Amy had stenciled “Baby’s dirty diapers.” “I don’t know about this, Amy,” Chris stammered. “It’s a bit much, don’t you think?” “Not at all,” she answered cheerfully. “Now that there’ll be more diapers for me to change every day, the changing table will prevent the risk of leaks onto the bed, it’s a better height for me, and all the supplies I need will have a permanent home where I can easily reach them. And the diaper pail...well, I didn’t mean to bring this up and embarrass you, but it’ll help contain the stench of your used diapers to this one room. Except those while you’re wearing them, of course,” she giggled. Chris noticed she didn’t mention the bed or confirm that it was a temporary solution, but he decided to cross that bridge when they got to it. He let Amy lead him to the changing table and strip him before hopping atop it. He was startled when she pulled a wide black Velcro strap across his chest, trapping both his body and arms. He hadn’t noticed that detail. A quick test showed that it was hospital grade, making it impossible to escape from its binds without help. It wasn’t the only accessory he hadn’t seen. He watched as Amy pulled two stirrups up near his feet and clicked them into place. “Aren’t these convenient, baby?” she asked rhetorically. “They’ll make it easier for you to get into position and hold your legs up in the air so I have better access to your bottom and all those little creases. Cleaning will be so much easier and more efficient, especially for the messy ones. Then when I’m done, I can just take one step and pop the stinky one into your diaper pail.” Chris was growing increasingly concerned about all her references to dirty diapers. He didn’t think she would use anything to make him soil himself involuntarily, and there’s no way he would ever, ever do it on purpose. Fortunately, he was so regular that you could almost set your clock by when he did number twos, and that was mid-morning when he would still be mercifully free of diapers. At least he could dismiss that concern. There were plenty of other things to think about. With his daydreaming, he hadn’t been watching Amy as she diapered him. As she pulled the sides tight and fastened the tapes, though, something felt different. “Amy,” he said, “why does this feel thicker than usual?” “It’s not that much extra,” she replied. “After last night’s flooding, I added a booster to help absorb more. This will help too.” As she spoke, she placed a second diaper under the one she’s just put on him. “I sliced through the waterproof area of your first diaper, so that when it nears capacity the excess will pass through to the second one instead of leak out the sides.” Chris watched as she struggled to pull the flaps of the outside diaper over the inner one and to get the tapes secure. By the time she finished, Chris couldn’t put his legs together and it felt ridiculously bulky. Amy helped him roll of the table but he had to waddle over to the bed. Amy snickered. “I’m sorry, baby, I’m not laughing at you,” she said. “Just the opposite. You’re just so adorable with that big puffy bottom. Come on, little one. Let’s get this bottle taken care of so that I can tuck you in.” As Chris lowered himself onto the bed, another surprise awaited him. “That’s the rubber sheet,” Amy said. “It never hurts to take precautions.” Chris had the nipple of the oversized baby bottle pushed into his mouth before he could respond. He had barely started before his eyelids began to feel heavy. Sleep soon overtook him, preventing him from seeing Amy’s wide smile as he continued to suckle even as he slept. He slept through the night. When he awoke, it was just beginning to get light outside and he began to panic. First, because there was no clock in the room and he didn’t know where his phone was to check the time. He didn’t want to be late to his office. He then remembered that it was Saturday, which solved that problem. But he wasn’t done worrying. He hadn’t woken himself up during the night to wet the diaper so if Amy came in soon he’d be in trouble. As he shifted to get into an easier position to pee, he could feel the diaper cling to him. Cautiously, he managed to get a finger past the multiple layers at his thigh and could feel the sogginess. His relief was followed immediately by concern. He didn’t remember waking up to use the diaper but he must have, right? The alternative was too ghastly to think about. His first instinct was to get out of those diapers as soon as possible. After absorbing everything his bladder had thrown at them, they were even bulkier than before and seemingly ten times as heavy. It was so difficult to walk that it would almost be easier to crawl everywhere. Amy would love that, he thought. He was saved the trouble of toddling off to find Amy, as she chose that moment to enter the room. “You’re awake! I thought I heard you moving about. It’s still not quite 6:30 so you’re up early for a weekend, but don’t go back to sleep or you’ll mess up naptime. I’ve already been up for hours...got inspired with ideas about my new line. I’ll show you later. For now, my goodness you’re drooping. I don’t know how those diapers are staying on. And to be honest, I could smell them from the hallway. We may want to invest in some nursery spray. C’mon, now, waddle over to the changing table. Looks like it’ll be a good test for the diaper pail.” For as long as they’d been married, Chris still was unaccustomed to Amy’s cheerful enthusiasm in the mornings. Here, it was weirder still to be so excited about changing a sodden and apparently odorous diaper. He made it to the changing table without incident and didn’t push back on the strap or the stirrups. Amy turned away after opening up the diapers and the odor hit the air, but tried to cover her action up by pretending she needed to sneeze. She took her time cleaning him before pulling the diaper out from under. He could hear the plop when it hit the bottom of the pail. “I’m a little worried about rashes,” she told him. “Do you want me to put some lotion or powder on before you get dressed?” Chris politely declined and went off to shower while Amy retreated to her office and shut the door.