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I am a nineteen-year-old girl. I have blonde hair, blue eyes,
and
stand five foot five inches and weigh just about 100 pounds.
For the past several
months Mom has been getting on my case, saying
that all I do is loaf around and leech off of her and Dad. She
keeps saying
that I'm no better now than when I was two years old, and that if I
don't
start acting my age, I'd get treated like a two-year old.
Well, two weeks
ago Mom really blew her stack, and told me she was going to teach me
a
lesson and show me just where I stand, just because I'd done
something she
didn't like, and a couple of things I didn't do that I should have.
Furiously, she ordered me
to my room. A few minutes later she
returned with a bag. Mom told me she was going to follow
through with
her threats, and teach me how to behave, and that she would have to
start
over with me as a baby.
"Now, go get a
bath!" she ordered. Mom came into the bathroom and
sat down on the side of the tub, undressed me and forced me into the
water.
She gave me a bath, then handed me a razor. "Shave
it!" she ordered. I
have a very sparse growth of pubic hair as it is, which I do keep
trimmed
in a bikini cut, but she wanted it all off. I was afraid not
to do as I
was told and, with teary eyes, removed every last hair from my
crotch. Mom
made me stand up and bend over, while she took the razor to my
backside,
removing all the little hairs around my anus. Now all signs of
my maturity
were gone!
Then Mom told me to go to
my room, and with her following I walked
to my bed. Mom sat on the edge of the bed and ordered me to
stand next to
her. She gripped me by the arm and pulled my naked body across
her lap,
positioning my derier directly in front of her. She held me
with her left
hand and started swatting my bottom with her right. Mom
spanked me HARD!!!
I started yelling and crying, but to no avail, she just kept
on hitting!
The tears were real, and streamed almost endlessly down my cheeks.
My butt
burned, it felt as if it was truly on fire.
When the spanking was
over Mom ordered me on my back on the bed so
she could "take care of the baby girl". Mom dumped
the bag onto the bed
beside me and to my horror I could see exactly what she had in mind.
Mom
picked up a diaper and slid it beneath me. Next she grabbed
some baby
ointment and spread it on my burning ass. I have to admit that
after the
whipping I'd just received, the baby cream was a real relief.
Following
the cream came a sprinkling of baby powder and then Mom pinned the
diaper
into place. She reached over and retrieved the biggest pair of
baby pants
I'd ever seen, and slid them up my legs and over the diaper.
Mom tucked
the edges of the diaper into the baby pants and then handed me a tee
shirt.
I was instructed to follow her to the kitchen, where I had to sit on
the
floor and drink from a baby bottle while she prepared dinner.
When the first bottle was
empty, I was handed another while dinner
simmered in the pot. I heard Dad's car pull into the driveway,
so I knew
help was on it's way. A few minutes later Dad walked into the
door from
work.
"What have we here?" he asked, grinning from ear to ear.
"It looks like
I've got my baby girl back. I know I've been paying to care
for her, now
I finally get to see her!" There went my only hope for
help, apparently
Dad was in on this, too.
When Mom finally served
supper she came up behind me at the table
and tied on a bib, then she brought in the dinner of roast and
vegetables
and peas and corn, but didn't set any down for me. "Your's
is coming,"
is all she said.
She returned from the
kitchen with a sectional plate, made up of all
of the same foods, except that mine had been run through the blender
and
pureed to the consistency of baby food. I was told that I
would either eat
that or go hungry. Mom sat down beside me and spoon fed me the
whole meal.
This was followed by another baby bottle of milk.
Later I tried to go to
the bathroom and found the door locked. When
I asked about it I was told by both of my parents that babies don't
use the
toilet, that's what my diapers were for. I held back for
awhile, but soon
wet myself. Daddy changed me this time, taking special care to
clean me up
and sprad on a new coating of baby ointment.
Later that evening I felt
the need to poop, but was again instructed
on how babies use their diapers, not the pot. As I lay on the
floor
drinking
what was now my fifth bottle of milk, I could no longer hold it in
and
filled the back of my garment until it bulged. This time it
was Mom's turn
to change me, as Daddy said he wouldn't change shitty diapers.
Well, I've been in
diapers for two weeks now and I see no signs of
any change in this routine for a while. My parents have said
that they are
in no hurry to have their baby girl grow up just to get mouthy
again, so I
can look forward to at least the next several months of babying.
Mom even
read from the dictionary the other night where it said that an
"INFANT" is
anybody under 21 years of age, and then showed me where it says that
a
"DIAPER" is an infants breechcloth. That would
indicate that I may have
to live like this for another 22 months!!!
Mom and Dad are going out
tonight, and they hired a neighbor to
babysit for me. I am truly anxious over this, as I thought
this whole baby
treatment was going to be a private thing, and now an outsider is
going to
be involved.
Mom is going to come in
here in a minute, so I have to hide this
letter so I won't get spanked.
I'm back. Mom
changed my diaper and gave me a fresh bottle of warm
milk to help me go to sleep. She told me to be a good baby for
our neighbor
and left the room. I feel like I'm going to have to poop soon
and don't
know
how it's going to work out with her (our neighbor) changing me, but
the way
I'm starting to feel down there, it won't be long before I find
out...
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