Rainbow Diapers

My Little Pony Friendship Is Magic.

“Alice we don’t throw our eyes now are you going to be a good girl and let me diaper you?”

Chapter 7: Over-stimulated Looking back, I see that my behavior in front of Stacy was a mistake. I wanted to show maturity and independence, but my actions showed the opposite; I acted like a petulant child. This ultimately meant that Stacy forever saw me as a child, and not as an adult. Although my mom probably wouldn’t have taken advice from someone as young as Stacy, she held Stacy in high regard. While Stacy was never our regular babysitter; she was around enough that she could have persuaded my mom to stop treating us like small children. Unfortunately, I didn’t make a good first impression. I was just a brat who needed diapers. Accepting Stacy as my babysitter was difficult. She’s the first baby that I can remember seeing, so the thought of her looking after me was strange and awkward. Our history is unique: I remember her as a baby, and she’s wanted to babysit me since she was five. Stacy was in preschool when I was in elementary school.  Even though I occasionally wore diapers, she thought I was a big kid because I went to school. That changed when she started Kindergarten. Now, I was the kid who stayed home, and she was the one who went to school.  Since I still wore diapers, and was treated like a toddler, she thought I was a little kid. Whenever Stacy and I played together, the roles were always the same: Stacy was the mommy, and I was the baby. Early on, when she was in Kindergarten, Stacy was bossy, taking charge of our games and making decisions for both of us. However, as she grew older, her attitude shifted. She became more protective, especially after she learned about my growth defect. She stood up for me whenever other kids teased me, regardless of their age. Her willingness to defend me never changed, even after I started high school. I didn’t see her very much after high school. During my first two years of college, Covid kept everyone isolated. After that, I returned only a few times each year, typically between terms. She visited just a handful of times while I was there, but it was always awkward whenever we saw each other. I looked like the kids that she babysat, so she tended to treat me that way. When Stacy came over, I felt a surge of hope. This was my chance to break free from this routine, and show that I could do things by myself. Stacy, on the other hand, had been wanting to babysit me since she was five years old. Sadly, instead of behaving like a grown-up, I ended up acting like a stubborn, petulant child. My mom justified treating us like toddlers because she claimed that both Charlotte and I had suffered mental breakdowns that caused us to regress to a toddler stage. She repeated this explanation to nannies, neighbors, or anyone else who questioned our situation, insisting that these measures were essential for our safety. Stacy was more than happy to follow through, and felt it was completely justified. While my mom demanded that we were treated like toddlers, some nannies encouraged our independence. Instead of the strict routine, we were occasionally allowed to act independently, offering brief moments of freedom. Unfortunately, those moments rarely lasted, because my mom would immediately fire any nanny who fostered our independence. This cycle repeated itself countless times, and Stacy frequently filled in between nannies. That made Stacy a regular presence in our nursery. Unlike other nannies who neglected our diapers, Stacy showed us care and respect. She was our strictest nanny, always following my mom's rules, but she treated us with fairness and compassion. As long as we followed the rules, Stacy was genuinely kind and caring. She consistently changed our diaper as soon as she could and never showed any annoyance or impatience about it. Despite her strictness, she was one of our favorites. Looking back, I realize that I probably wasn’t potty trained anymore. Even though it was only my second day in diapers, I was already using them whenever I needed to go. I knew that my mom wouldn’t let me use the toilet, so I stopped trying to hold it. I just let go whenever I needed, often in small spurts. The same thing happened when I wore Pull-ups, which is why I didn't like wearing them. Sometimes, I just used my pull-up, instead of going to the bathroom. My mom thought I didn’t notice when I was wet, but I did; I just didn’t mind. I didn’t say anything about it because my mom got angry when I said something. In truth, it didn’t make much difference. My diapers were usually checked and changed before I would’ve said anything. I’m sure my pooping incident convinced Stacy that I needed diapers, but I would have pooped in the toilet if she hadn’t insisted on coming in with me. I’ve always been reluctant to use the bathroom around other people, which is why it took me so long to get past that first stage of potty training. During that first stage, my mom insisted on watching as we used the potty, but I never wanted to use it in front of her. Because I refused to use the potty, she kept me in diapers, deciding I wasn’t ready to be potty trained. My mom put something in my bottle that made it nearly impossible to control my bowels. Eventually, I gave up trying to hold them, since I could only hold it a few minutes. At that point, I could still hold it, but not very long. If Stacy wasn’t there, I would’ve barely made it to the toilet. However, I held back because I didn't want to use the bathroom in front of her. I pretended to push, but I was trying to hold it in. I don’t know why I did that, because I wasn’t going to hold it forever. Saturday morning was just like the other ones: my mom woke me up, fed me breakfast, and then insisted on holding my bottle while I sucked on it. Having given up resisting, I just sat in her lap and took the bottle. After I finished my bottle, mom put me in my playpen, which was right in front of the television. She said, “Daddy and I are working around the house, and you need to stay out of the way.  Stay here until mommy lets you out.” I thought I was clever, and grabbed the remote before my mom put me in the playpen. I wanted to choose what I watched, and not have to watch what my mom picked. As I clutched the remote, feeling a brief sense of accomplishment, my mom quickly caught on. She saw me with the remote and asked, “What are you doing with that? That's not a toy.” I pleaded, “Please, what if I want to change the channel?” My mom responded, “If you ask nicely, and mommy thinks it’s appropriate, she’ll change the channel.” She took the remote and turned on one of Kristy’s shows. My mom used to limit how much television I watched, and I was only allowed to watch sports or educational programs. Ironically, since putting me back in diapers, mom had no problem putting me in front of the television. Unfortunately, she didn't let me pick what I watched; she simply selected something from Kristy's playlist. Curious, I asked her, “What’s this?” She replied, “It’s Tiny Chef, you’ll like it. It’s Kristy’s favorite.” I’ve never liked children’s shows, especially ones meant for little kids. I may appear young, but I’m not a child. I protested, “I don’t want to watch it.” “How do you know? You’ve never watched it.” I whined, “But I want to watch sports.” Mom exclaimed, “There aren’t any sports on television, and babies don’t watch sports.” Her claim that there weren’t any sports on television simply wasn’t true. There's always a sport on, and I'd happily watch any of them. Watching sports had always been one of the few things my dad and I enjoyed doing together. My mom’s remark, “babies don’t watch sports,” scared me. It was the first day of the NFL Playoffs, and I desperately wanted to watch them. Up until that moment, I hadn’t even considered the possibility that I might not be allowed to watch the playoffs. While my parents did chores around the house, I quietly sat in my playpen. I simply wanted to stay out of trouble and earn back my mom's trust. Kristy’s favorite show was on repeat, but I quickly lost interest. She might have liked it, but I wasn’t three years old. Though I wanted to protest, I held back, knowing that complaining would just get me in trouble. Even while cleaning, my mom kept a close eye on me. I wasn’t even allowed to stand up. Each time I tried, she immediately called out, “Sit down, baby. You don’t want to get hurt.” The morning felt endless, but eventually it was time for lunch. My plan worked; Mom let me feed myself for the first time since putting me back in diapers. Although I had to remain in the highchair, and my meal was served on a partitioned tray with everything cut into bite-sized pieces, feeding myself felt like a small victory. As I quietly finished my lunch, making sure to eat everything on my plate, my parents chatted as if I were invisible. Mom sighed, “Taking care of a toddler full-time is tough.” Dad asked, “You took care of Kristy, what’s so different this time?” “I only cared for her during the day, so I had nights off. I don’t think I could take care of both of them, especially since Kristy has become more demanding since she got out of diapers. She used to be so easy-going; while Reggie is not. He’s a handful. I can handle it on weekends, but not every day. Especially while I’m working. We can’t put him in daycare, so I’m afraid we need a nanny.” When my dad heard that, he grumbled. “Linda, I know he's immature and careless, but he's not a baby. I want to retire soon, and I don’t want to take care of another baby.  Especially when that baby is old enough to be an adult.” My mom laughed, “Chuck, it’s not like you ever helped before, what makes you think I want your help now?” While this was true; my dad really didn’t do much parenting, it was partly because my mom didn’t let him. My dad never shares his feelings, so I couldn't tell if he was upset or simply reasoning with her. “I understand, but we can't keep coddling him. He needs to grow up, and that won’t happen if we keep doing this. Don’t you remember how much we spent on nannies when the kids were younger? How much do you think it would cost now?” My mom glared, “Chuck, we’ve already talked about this, and I don’t want to discuss it any further. We certainly aren’t going to talk about it in front of Reggie.” My dad said, “I know it's tough, but he has to learn to be independent.” Mom snapped back, “No! And that’s final. What am I supposed to do, Chuck? Kick him out of the nest because he’s too much of a burden? We’re not animals, we take care of our babies as long as it takes! He can’t take care of himself, so I have to. I’m his mother, so I’ll do what’s right for him no matter how it looks.” My dad started to speak, but my mom cut him off: “This isn't up for discussion. This is all your fault. He wouldn't be this way if you had listened to me. That’s true for both of them, Chuck! Just look at our daughter.” All remaining resistance vanished, and he quietly retreated to his den. I understood why my mom blamed my dad for some of my issues. He persuaded her to let me go to Dartmouth, and later, he helped me get the job in New York. My mom thought both of those decisions were mistakes. Still, I couldn’t figure out what might have happened with Charlotte. From what I knew, Charlotte never went against my mom’s wishes, except when she married Dennis, which didn’t last. However, my dad didn’t have anything to do with that, so I don’t know why she was blaming him for anything. Following the lunchtime commotion, I was placed in my crib for a nap. I wanted to watch the football games, but I was too nervous to ask about it. Still, I gathered my courage and used my sweetest voice to make the request. “Mommy, can I watch football?” I deliberately said ‘Mommy,’ hoping it would make her more likely to say yes. Mom shook her head and replied gently, “I don’t know, honey. Babies don’t need to watch sports, that’s why they watch shows meant for them.” I cried, “Mommy, I’m not really a baby. Pleese! I’ll be good. I promise.” I made sure not to throw a tantrum, because I knew that would kill any chance I had. Mom answered, “Let me think about it. Maybe you can watch it with Daddy, if he is watching in the living room?” That wasn’t great news, because my dad usually stayed in his den. My mom controlled the TV in the living room, and she didn’t like sports. I couldn’t go into his den, unless he specifically invited me, and I wasn’t allowed to ask him about it. So, I looked up at my mom and asked, “What if Daddy is in his den?” Mom shook her head, “That’s just for adults, not for babies.” After I woke up from my nap, I noticed that my dad was watching the game in the living room.  That was good news for me, because that meant I could watch with him. I sat on the floor right beside him, feeling happy to be included. My mom paused before leaving, reminding my dad, “I’ll leave you two alone to watch your game. Chuck, make sure to check his diaper; I don’t want him to leak on the floor.” My dad snarled, “I’m not changing his diaper.” “I’m not asking you to change his diaper, just check it.” My dad griped, and then after my mom walked away, he said, “Reggie, promise me that you won’t pee yourself.” He almost said, ‘piss yourself’, but nobody dares to cuss in front of my mom, not even my dad. I nodded, but I knew I couldn’t promise anything. I ended up wetting myself a couple of times. Eventually, my mom checked my diaper, and then asked, “Chuck, why didn’t you tell me that Reggie needs to be changed?” Dad snarled back, “I’m not checking his diaper; that’s your job.” Mom sighed, “I hoped you’d help, but I guess not.” Dad started to respond, but Mom quickly interrupted him, saying, “Chuck, I’m not talking about this in front of Reggie. We can discuss it tonight, after he’s asleep. Just watch your football game.” After that, the disagreement just stopped, as if it had never occurred. While my mom was changing my diaper, I quietly mouthed, “I’m sorry.” She looked at me and asked softly, “Why?” I answered, “I made you guys fight.” Mom immediately hugged me and reassured me, “Oh, Reggie, we’re not fighting. Sometimes mommies and daddies disagree, and it can sound like they’re fighting, but they’re really not. Even so, we shouldn’t do it in front of you; that’s my fault. Just remember, mommy and daddy love you very much.” Even though my mom was controlling, she always tried to comfort me whenever I was upset. She usually spoke in a gentle, comforting way, using words better suited for a small child, but it was always meant to make me feel better. My dad was different. We almost never discussed our feelings or what we wanted. Our conversations were always practical, focused on whatever needed to be done right away. There was never any real depth to what we talked about, nothing personal or emotional. Still, I wanted to know what he was thinking. He seemed annoyed, but I couldn't tell whether it was with me or with my mom. Hesitant, I whispered, “Sorry, Dad.” My dad's response was curt, and I could tell that he didn't want to talk about it. He asked, “What for?” I replied simply, “All of this.” He told me, “It's not your fault,” trying to reassure me in his own way. Still feeling uncertain, I decided to ask him directly about my diapers. “Are you mad about the diapers?” He sighed and said, “I wish you didn’t need them, but it’s obvious that you do. If you haven’t got it by now, I don’t think you ever will, so it is what it is.” After that, he shifted the conversation to the football game, steering away from anything personal or emotional. That was the deepest conversation my dad and I have ever had. After talking to my dad, I watched the rest of the game in silence. I was careful not to say anything that might get me in trouble, keeping to myself as the game played on. When the first game ended, another one began, and then it was time for dinner. Mom wouldn’t let me eat in front of the television. She made sit in my highchair, which was in the kitchen. Even though I wasn’t allowed to watch the game during dinner, I did get to feed myself. After dinner, mom gave me a bath, and then I got to go back to the living room and watch the rest of the football game. The game didn’t finish until 8:30, which was past my bedtime. However, Mom let me stay up until the game was over. For the first time since this started, I was happy, even though mom was still treating me like a baby. As I lay in my crib, a surprising sense of confidence washed over me. Despite still being treated like a baby, this felt closer to what it was like when I had to wear diapers as a teenager. It felt like Mom was loosening her grip, allowing me a bit more freedom and independence. For the first time since everything started, I felt there was a real chance I'd eventually be seen as an adult again. I got to feed myself again during breakfast, which was the third time in a row. Even when I used utensils, I make a mess whenever I eat pancakes. I had to use my hands, so I couldn't avoid making a mess. When I was done, sticky syrup coated both my face and bib. My mom chuckled when she saw how messy I was, and said, “I might have to put you in the tub! Maybe mommy should have helped you.”  Fortunately, she wiped me down, and then finished cleaning me up while changing my diaper in the living room. After my diaper was changed, my parents decided to go on a morning walk. Just as we were about to leave, my mom paused at the door and stared at my stroller. My dad caught her gaze and asked, “What is it?” My mom responded, “I’m just debating whether I should put Reggie in his stroller.” I pleaded, “No, please,” but my protest didn’t matter. My words didn’t carry any weight. My dad came to my defense and asked, “Is it really necessary? He needs some exercise.” Mom agreed, “I guess you’re right. There won’t be a lot of distractions, so he should be fine.” She turned to me and said, “Reggie, remember to stay close to mommy.” My mom put out her hand, but I didn’t grab it. Surprisingly, she didn’t say anything about that, and let me walk a few steps in front of her. To anyone walking past, I looked like a child taking a walk with my grandparents. Their neighborhood isn’t very busy, so I didn’t stop and look when I hit the first intersection. Mom quickly grabbed my shirt and said, “I was afraid of that. I should have trusted my instinct.” My Dad was puzzled by her reaction and asked, “Why?” Mom explained, “Reggie didn’t stop at the corner, like he was supposed to. We’re going back to get his stroller.” Dad looked surprised and protested, “Linda, the street isn’t busy,” but Mom didn’t respond. Without another word, she took me back home and buckled me into the stroller. When we returned to the road, Dad commented, “Linda, he looks ridiculous.” Mom replied firmly, “I don’t care. I’m not letting my son run out into traffic.” Once again, I was faced with a dilemma. I didn’t want to sit in my stroller, but I knew my mom would get mad if I pushed back. If my mom was upset, I couldn't watch football, so I sat quietly in my stroller. A few people noticed, including some neighbors who recognized me, but no one said anything. Over the years, I’ve spent a lot of time in a stroller. My mom used it to keep me safe, especially in crowds or risky situations. For her, the stroller was primarily for my safety. By using it, she could maintain control and protect me from harm. Whenever I sit in a stroller, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m on display for everyone passing by. I always wonder how I look to others: I’m bigger than most children who ride in strollers, and that makes me self-conscious. Yet, the stroller has a way of masking my size, making me appear even younger than I look. I’ve seen that same effect with Charlotte. She’s bigger than me, but it’s hard to tell when she is in a stroller. Most people barely notice, apart from the occasional awkward glance. We got home just in time to watch the first game of the day, which was the Jaguars and the Bills. It was an exciting game, even if I didn’t care who won. However, I didn’t get to see all of it. While we were watching, my dad and I started talking about the next game on the schedule: the 49ers against the Eagles. That was the game that really mattered to us, since Dad and I are big 49er fans. Mom overheard us and asked, “What time does that game start?” Dad answered, “One thirty, why?” Mom replied, “I was afraid of that. That’s during Reggie’s nap.” I pleaded, “Please, Mommy. Do I have to take a nap? I’m not tired.” My mom shook her head, so my dad tried to convince her. “Come on, Linda, it’s the 49ers.” Mom held firm. “I don’t care. I don’t want to deal with a cranky toddler. He can watch after his nap.” Dad continued to plead, “We really should let him watch the whole game.” Finally, Mom relented a bit. “Okay, but then he has to take his nap before lunch.” I still tried to argue, “But this game isn’t over.” I’m not sure why I did that, since my naptime would start before the game ended and I’d miss part of it anyway. Dad turned to me and said gently, “I think that’s the best we’re going to get, son. Take your nap, and then we can watch the whole 49er game.” Although I wasn't tired, I took my nap and unexpectedly fell asleep.  After a while, my mom woke me up and made me some lunch. Once I finished eating, she handed me my bottle. This time, I was allowed to hold the bottle myself, instead of her holding it for me. We went back to the living room, and I watch the end of the first game while I sucked on my bottle. The 49er game started soon after the first game ended, and I was really into it. I always get nervous while watching the 49ers, and this was a playoff game! It started off good; the 49ers scored on the first drive, but then the Eagles scored. After the Eagles scored another touchdown, I got mad and threw my pacifier across the room.  I immediately knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t help myself; the 49ers were losing. At that moment, Mom stepped in and said, “This is too much stimulation. He can’t handle this. I’ve got to get him out of here.” She quickly scooped me up, saying, “Come on, Reggie, let’s get you calmed down.” I protested as she led me away, insisting, “I’m fine, please let me stay.” Despite my protests, Mom stood her ground. “No, you’re not. You’re overstimulated.” Gently, she took my arm and led me into the kitchen. While I pleaded with her, she focused on preparing a bottle for me, seemingly unfazed by my resistance. She placed a pacifier in my mouth and guided me into the nursery. Settling into a chair, she sat me on her lap and held the bottle to my lips, her embrace becoming more secure as I tried to squirm away. The gentle rocking and soothing motions eventually calmed me, and I stopped fighting. Once I was relaxed, she carried me over to my crib and tucked me in. After Mom tucked me into the crib, she gently slipped soft mittens on my hands. Confused, I managed to ask, “What’s this for?” She calmly replied, “I don’t want you to hurt yourself. You need to rest; it’s been a big day.” Mom then carefully wrapped a blanket around my arms and legs, making sure it was snug enough so I couldn’t move them. Once she was certain I was both secure and comfortable, she gently kissed my forehead. Softly, she whispered, “Baby, close your eyes and sleep. You need to rest. Mommy will be back in a little bit. Don’t worry, mommy is right outside the door.”

🏖️ is there a reasonable PRIVATE PLACE to spend with my Wife so we can🧷🍄 do a. cleansing/reset preflibly out door settings with swimming/hot tub access.

All of the children howled with laughter. Just then that nice young mother who had earlier lead me over to play with the others came out. She saw my humiliation and asked what was going on. The children kept laughing and told her I was a big baby who still wore diapers. I was crying and she told them to go inside. As they left they continued taunting me saying things like, "I bet your diapers are all wet", and "Go get your mommy to change you, little baby", etc. The nice lady bent down and said that that was a very beautiful dress I was wearing. I didn't answer, and she asked in a very soft voice, "Are you wearing diapers underneath, Sugarplum? I was so embarrassed I looked down at the ground and shook my head no. She said she saw that naughty girl pull my dress up and it really did look like I was wearing diapers underneath.   My eyes started tearing again and in a very sweet voice she asked how come I was wearing diapers. I whimpered that my Aunt Meg and Tammie made me wear them because I wet the bed. She said, "Oh, I understand, Darling. Why do you still wet your bed?", she asked. I whimpered that I didn't know, that it was an accident. She suggested that if I kept my diapers dry for a long time maybe Aunt Meg would let me wear big girl panties again. I nodded my head yes. She asked me if my diapers were wet right now. I was embarrassed and nodded my head no.  In a soft but skeptical tone she asked if I had kept them dry all day. I nodded my head yes. She said, "Wow, I don't even think I could go all day without doing pee pee. Are you sure they're not wet, Honey Bunch?" She smiled and said, "You can tell me." I knew she didn't believe me so I whispered that they might be just a little wet. She held my hand and said, "That's okay, Sweetie. Just a little wet? she questioned." I nodded yes. She said that it might be hard for me to tell, that maybe she had better check.  I didn't say anything and before I knew it she stuck her hand under my dress and put her finger up a leg opening of my waterproof panties. She said, "Oh, Honey, you sure are wet.   We have to change you right away." I kept staring down at the ground. She said, "I'll tell you what we can do. Why don't you show me where they keep your diapers and I can change you myself. Then we don't have to bother anyone.  Your Aunt Meg and Tammie will be so proud of you.  Isn't that a good idea, Sugar?" She took hold of my hand and started to lead me inside.  I was so embarrassed I put my head down and whispered, "Oh, no thank you, ma'am." She knew I was afraid to let her change me, so she continued, "It's okay Sweetheart. I know you're very shy.  But don't worry, I change diapers every day; I have a two-year-old.  She hated wearing her diapers and being changed, but I got her over that..." She saw that my reaction wasn't good and she quickly added, "Oh, of course I didn't mean that you're like a two-year-old, Sweetheart." I thanked her again but told her that I only like my Aunt or Tammie to change me. She said that was all right, that she understood, but that I did have to be changed right now so she would take me to my Aunt. As she lead me back inside, the children began teasing me again, saying things like, "Go get your dirty diapers changed, big baby." The young mother told them to be quiet or she would tell their parents.   She brought me over to Tammie and Aunt Meg and told them that I was very wet and needed a changing, and that the other children had found out I was wearing diapers and were teasing me. Aunt Meg and Tammie laughed and thanked the young mother, calling her by her name which was "Melody." They told her that I was very bad and needed "Special training." Melody told them that she was going to change me herself but that I was too shy. Then Aunt Meg surprised me and said that it would be great if Melody would change me because they were very busy winding down the party and cleaning up.  Aunt Meg told her that my diapers were in the bedroom. As Tammie giggled, Aunt Meg leaned over and said, "You be a good girl, Candie, and let nice Melody change your wet diapers." I whined, "No, Aunt Meg." Aunt Meg looked me in my watery eyes and said, "All right, Candie, I'll give you a choice.  Either you be good and let Melody change you or I'll give you a spanking in front of everyone. It's up to you." I started crying, and Melody took me by the hand saying, "It's okay Candie, there's nothing to be worry about.  You'll feel much better when we get you out of those wet diapers." She then led me towards the bedroom.  Aunt Meg laughed and warned Melody that she was in, "For a real surprise." I noticed that some of the children had been watching and laughing from across the room. When we got into the bedroom, Melody tried to comfort me and get me to stop crying. She said that if I was good the rest of the day, maybe my Aunt would take me out of diapers tomorrow. She saw the crib and asked if that's where I slept. I nodded yes. She looked through a stack of diapers and waterproof panties and said, "These must be for you." I didn't respond. She picked up some diapers and a pair of pink waterproof panties with circus animals and lace and brought laid them on the bed. I started weeping again, and Melody seemed to get an idea. She said wait here a minute, Candie. I'll be right back.  She returned a moment later with her two-and-a-half-year-old daughter and a big diaper bag. She said, "This is my daughter, her name is Cindy. She's wet too, just like I thought. Can you please help me with her, Candie."  I felt very embarrassed but would do anything to stall, so I nodded my head yes. Melody then took out a changing mat from her diaper bag and asked me to spread it open on my Aunt's bed. Using baby talk, Melody said, "It's time for a changing Cindy. You be a good girl and show Candie how easy it is, okay?" To which Cindy giggled and chirped, "No!"  Melody repeated in a stronger voice, "I want you to be good today, Cindy, we have a special friend here." Again Cindy yelled, "No!" Then Melody said, "Okay, let's get undressed." Melody then sat her squirming daughter on the edge of the bed, and while telling her to hold still, she took Cindy's shoes and dress off. Then she had Cindy lay down on the changing mat. She squirmed and laughed as Melody tickled her.  Melody took out diapers, waterproof panties, baby powder, oil and lotion from the diaper bag. While Cindy squirmed and played, Melody took off her waterproof panties, and then unpinned and removed her wet diapers.   Melody said they were soaked and she left the room to wring them out. She returned and put the used diapers in another compartment of the diaper bag. Melody then cleaned and wiped Cindy down with baby oil and lotion. Then Melody had me sprinkle Cindy with baby powder.  She then diapered and dressed Cindy. Cindy laughed and had a great time of it. When finished, Melody turned to me and said, "See how easy that was, Candie. Now it's your turn, Sweetheart." She continued, "Now take off your pretty dress, we don't want to get lotion or anything on it."  I hesitated and she said, "Come on, Honey.  I can't let you stay in those wet diapers another minute."  I looked at her with tears in my eyes, but she told me to put my hands over my head. She pulled off my dress and petticoat and neatly folded them. I felt so embarrassed standing there in my wet diapers and waterproof baby panties in front of her and her daughter. She told Cindy go to go play with her doll, but Cindy just stayed there watching us. Melody then sat me on the edge of the bed and took my shoes off. She told me to lay on the changing mat.  I was reluctant, and Melody was becoming a bit impatient, so she pushed me down on the matt. I started sobbing again, but Melody just said, "There, there, Candie. This will only take a few minutes. Now lift up your legs, Sugarplum, so I can take your panties off and get at those wet diapers. I promise you'll feel much better when I'm done." I just laid there on my back crying, so Melody just proceeded to pull off my waterproof panties and unpin my soaking diapers. As she removed the diapers, she saw my tiny penis and was puzzled for a moment but then tried to hold back laughter.  She exclaimed, "Oh Candie, you're really a little boy, aren't you!" I whined, "Yes, ma'am." She put her head down so I wouldn't see her laughing. Even Cindy was giggling. She asked me why I had been dressed like a baby girl, and I whimpered that that's how Aunt Meg and Tammie were punishing me. Melody made me tell her the bad things I had done, including wetting the crib, and she agreed that I was a bad little boy. She scolded me and asked me if I wanted a "red bottom?" She added that my Aunt had done the right thing. I continued weeping, and Melody seemed to feel sorry for me. Melody then spoke again using baby-talk. She told me that she felt bad, but that maybe this would help me learn my lesson.  Adding to my humiliation, Cindy really wanted to help diaper me, so Melody let her.   I was so mortified as the little girl sprinkled baby powder on me and helped her mother fold my diapers while watching everything and giggling. She even helped pull my waterproof panties up my legs and over my diapers. When they were finished, Melody kissed me and said I had been a very good girl. She tickled me all over until I couldn't stop laughing. Just as the were finishing putting my dress back on, Aunt Meg and Tammie came in. Aunt Meg asked what was taking so long and if I had been giving Melody a hard time. Melody said I had been very good, but I was very wet and should have spoken up sooner. Aunt Meg asked her if she had discovered my, "Little secret?" Melody told her she certainly had discovered my little secret! Aunt Meg and Tammie explained the whole situation to her, and the women laughed and laughed. Aunt Meg turned to me and said I looked very tired.   I said I wasn't tired, and she asked me if I had taken a nap today. I said no, I didn't need naps. She responded, "Oh yes you do, Sweetness.  All babies need their naps, and you've had more than enough excitement for one day." With that, Aunt Meg quickly pulled off my dress and petticoat, and removed my shoes. She then lowered the safety bars on the crib, picked me up, put me in the crib and raised the bars back into place. I complained that I didn't need a nap, but Aunt Meg just patted me on the head and told me to be good or else I would get a spanking. I tried to cover myself in the baby blanket, but Aunt Meg took it away saying it was too hot, leaving me in just my diapers and waterproof panties. The women saw my embarrassment, and continued to taunted me further.  Cindy stood next to my crib staring at me and giggling. Aunt Meg picked up my baby bottle and said I needed some warm milk. Melody said she and Cindy had to leave, but for my Aunt to call her if she needed anyone to, "Take special care of baby Candie."   Melody added that I could play with all of Cindy's dolls and toys. Tammie looked at me and said, "Oh, wouldn't that be fun, Candie?" My Aunt thanked Melody and said she would call her. As the women walked out, Cindy yelled, "Bye, bye baby," and everyone laughed.  I noticed Aunt Meg had left the door wide open. I called out for her to please close it, but she ignored me.  A few moments later, a group of children remaining from the party came in and surrounded my crib. The were laughing and chanting that I was a diaper baby. They taunted and teased me and asked me if I had wet myself. They made fun of my pink waterproof baby panties with circus animals and lace trim, and tried to touch at them through the crib bars.  I was so humiliated. Aunt Meg and Tammie came in the door, and I begged them to make the children go out, but Aunt Meg just stuck my baby bottle in my mouth and ordered me to drink the warm milk. The children howled with laughter. A girl asked my Aunt if the bottle would make me wet my diapers now, but Aunt Meg laughed and told her that I had just been changed so it would probably take a while for me to wet myself again. The children continued teasing me, and Aunt Meg and Tammie left the room laughing. Finally, the party was over and everyone left. The next day, Aunt Meg kept me in diapers and a dress that she had borrowed from Tammie.  She then took me to a new and used children's clothing store. As Aunt Meg selected a number a little-girl dresses and skirts, slips, socks, panties, tights, etc. for me, the salesgirl commented that I was very pretty. Aunt Meg took me in the fitting room and tried all the clothes on me.  She then took me over to the infant and toddler section. She selected several packages of diapers. She then looked for girls' extra-large waterproof baby panties. The bin where they should have been was empty. As I continued blushing and holding my head down, the salesgirl came over and Aunt Meg asked her if she had any more girls' extra-large waterproof panties. The sales girl motioned to an assortment in size large, asking my Aunt how big the baby was as large would fit most toddlers. To my dismay, my Aunt pointed at me and announced that her, "Baby" was right here and really needs extra-large.  She continued that, "My Candie still wets herself and her bed occasionally and gets put back into diapers for punishment." The salesgirl fought back laughter and said she would check in the stockroom. She came back a few minutes later with a stack of girls' extra-large waterproof baby panties. With the salesgirl and some other people looking nearby, my Aunt pulled up my dress, exposing my frilly waterproof baby panties with diapers underneath.  I was so embarrassed I was fidgeting and she told me to be still.  Aunt Meg held a pair of the waterproof panties to my waist and announced they should fit just fine. I was so mortified. The salesgirl rang up our purchase, and when she got to the diapers and waterproof panties, she looked at me and giggled. My Aunt Meg kept me in girls clothes, often with diapers underneath for the rest of the summer.  She had Tammie watch me and had me play with Tammie's daughters, and she took Melody up on her offer and had me stay overnight at her house. It was one incredible summer!                                                                                                      The End