Back to Babyhood

Chapter 20 If you enjoy my writing then please consider subscribing to my Patreon (www.patreon.com/backtobabyhood) where Chapter 21 is live and 22 is due to be released shortly. Subscribers get access to early release all of my stories including If You Act Like A Baby, The French Exchange and Step-Brother to Step-Baby, plus other exclusive stories and content. Any support is much appreciated Alison momentarily hesitated, seemingly taken aback by the sudden turn of events. This wasn't a scenario she had anticipated. Yet, she quickly recognised it as an opportunity to further cement Mikey's new role. Babies didn’t mind who changes them so why should Mikey have a say? With a nod that subtly conveyed a hint of hesitation, Alison turned to address her nosey neighbour, who seemed to take a certain delight in Mikey’s predicament and the control she was exerting over him, "That would be incredibly helpful, Clare. Would you mind? Let me get his changing bag." Mikey's eyes widened, his pupils dilating with sheer terror. "Please, this is too far. I don’t need Clare to change me, I can do it myself," he begged, his voice trembling with the weight of his dread. "Mikey, honey, do you really think I can trust you to change your own nappy like a big boy after you told fibs earlier? Big boys who tell fibs can't be trusted with big boy tasks. Besides, how many babies in nappies do you know that change their own nappy?" Alison's voice dripped with condescension, making Mikey squirm with discomfort. "I'm not a baby, though. It's you who's making me wear nappies and treating me like one!" Mikey retorted, his tone carrying a whine that sounded uncomfortably close to a tantrum. "Mikey, dear, who's the one waking up in a wet nappy each night? And now, you can't even keep your pants dry for a few hours. That's a bit babyish, don't you think?" Alison replied, her voice layered with a mix of firmness and mock sympathy. "Girls, what do you say?" Clare and the girls nodded in agreement, leaving Mikey feeling helplessly outnumbered. Desperate to avoid being changed by Clare, especially in front of her grandchildren, Mikey attempted another plea. "But can't we wait until we're home?" he asked, his voice quivering with hope and desperation. "Now, Mikey, sweetie, of course we can’t wait," Alison responded, patronizingly. "You don't want a nasty rash, do we? And Clare has been so nice to offer to help change your nappy. So, no more making a scene, or it's dum dums time for you. Why don't you be a good boy and go with Clare for your change, okay?" Hearing the threat of the dummy, Mikey felt a surge of panic but still couldn't resist one last desperate plea. "But... maybe one of the girls could do it instead?" he asked, his voice trailing off into a near whisper. The realisation that he was now reduced to pleading with his own sisters to change his nappy struck him deeply, underscoring just how desperate he had become to avoid the embarrassment of being changed by Clare and how far he had fallen. Glancing briefly at Alison, the girls paused, delighted that Mikey was asking to be changed by them. Alison, assessing the situation, replied with a tone that subtly underscored Mikey's helpless plea. "Mikey, it's really sweet that you'd like your sisters to change your nappy, but Clare has already offered to take care of you. So, let's not make any more of a scene, okay? Off you go now," she instructed, her words gently steering him toward the changing area without leaving any possibility for further discussion. "Please, don't let her change me. Please," he begged, his voice trembling, the raw desperation palpable in his tone. In the midst of the commotion, Ethan's voice cut through, laden with the unmistakable urgency of a young child. "Grandma, I gotta go potty now," he announced, his small hands clutching his crotch in a clear signal of his distress. Exasperated by Mikey's relentless protests and mindful of Ethan's pressing need, Clare swiftly assumed control. With a firm grip on Mikey's arm, she was resolute in quelling his resistance. Alison, in agreement with Clare's approach and recognizing the urgency of the situation, promptly retrieved the dummy from Mikey's shirt. With a swift motion, she placed it in his mouth, effectively muting his protests and reinforcing Clare's decisive actions. She then passed over a changing bag which contained all of the supplies that Clare would need. In a state of panic and feeling cornered, Mikey responded instinctively. He spat out the dummy and, fueled by a surge of desperate energy, attempted to free himself from Clare's firm hold. His eyes scanned for an escape, and seizing the moment, he started to sprint towards the supermarket doors, his heart pounding with a mix of fear and urgency. Mikey's attempted escape was quickly thwarted as he was grabbed by Rosie. Alison's voice, both commanding and stern, echoed through the supermarket. "Mikey, don't you dare try to run away!" she called out, her tone brooking no argument. Her voice carried far, drawing the attention of several other shoppers, including a group of teenagers near the toilets—the very area towards which Mikey was reluctantly about to be led to. Their curious glances added to the mounting tension and embarrassment that he felt, making his situation all the more conspicuous and uncomfortable. Mikey's fleeting moment of rebellion had ended abruptly, plunging him into a deep sense of defeat. Each effort he made to stand up for himself only seemed to reinforce their justification for treating him as they did, further eroding his standing. The reality of being changed by Clare, coupled with the patronizing manner in which he was spoken to, and how effortlessly he had been overpowered, left him feeling small and utterly helpless. Standing there, his arms firmly held by Clare and Rosie, Mikey was starkly confronted with the severity of his situation. Alison's voice, laced with an undertone of triumph, broke through. "Perhaps your sisters have a point. Maybe you do need reins or even a pushchair to get around, Mikey. You're behaving exactly like a little toddler who can't be left alone without wandering away." In that moment of utter humiliation, Mikey felt the dummy being placed back in his mouth by Alison, a gesture that did not go unnoticed. The sound of laughter and muffled remarks from the group of teenagers nearby, who watched the scene with a blend of shock and amusement, filled the air. Their eyes were fixed on Mikey, adding to his embarrassment. Resigned to his fate, he allowed himself to be led towards the baby changing room. With each step, he was acutely aware of his diminished state, feeling the weight of the eyes of shoppers and the group of teenagers on him, each one a reminder of his current, infantile situation. Once inside, Clare turned to Mikey "Mikey, you stay right here," she instructed firmly. Then, turning her attention to Ethan, she added with a hint of encouragement, "Ethan, let's go to the toilet, so you can show everyone what a big boy you are." The difference in Clare's approach towards Mikey and Ethan was unmistakably clear and deeply stung Mikey. He was left alone in the changing room, a stark contrast to Ethan, who was praised and treated according to his age for using the toilet – a privilege that Mikey, at his age, should have been accorded as well. Mikey looked around while he waited for Clare and Ethan to return, hoping that no-one would enter in the meantime as she had left the door unlocked. The room was a space straight out of a nursery tale. Dominated by a large, cushioned changing table, its surface was covered in a soft, wipe-clean material, patterned with playful images of smiling suns, moons, and stars. The table was equipped with safety straps and raised sides, ensuring the baby's security. Adjacent to the changing table stood a towering, vertical cabinet filled with stacks of soft, fresh baby nappies available in a range of sizes. Beside them were containers of fragrant baby wipes. Mikey, despite his situation, couldn't help but feel a quiet sense of admiration for the comprehensive range of supplies the supermarket had thoughtfully provided The room itself was decorated in soft, calming pastel colors, with a mural of nursery rhyme characters frolicking across the walls, adding to the infantile atmosphere. On the other side of the room stood a nappy disposal bin, clearly designed to contain odors and dispose of used nappies hygienically. The air was subtly scented with a baby-fresh fragrance, masking any unpleasant smells. Mikey, already on edge, felt his heart skip a beat as the door abruptly opened, revealing an older woman cradling a baby. He stood there, motionless and wide-eyed, as the woman's gaze fell upon him, a blend of confusion and anger etching her features. "What are you doing in here?" she demanded sharply, her tone veering towards anger. Mikey, completely taken aback, found himself at a loss for words. The situation was rapidly spiraling beyond his control and he didn’t know what to say. Admitting that he was waiting for a nappy change, just like the baby in her arms, was the last thing he wanted to do. "This is inappropriate! I'm going to get security; you have no business in a baby changing room!" she exclaimed, her voice laced with the threat of impending action. Caught in an awkward silence, Mikey fumbled for words, his mind racing for an explanation that wouldn't deepen his embarrassment. Just as he was about to stammer out a response, Clare and Ethan re-entered, diffusing the tension-filled room. Clare, with a practiced ease, quickly grasped the situation. "Oh, my apologies for the confusion," she said, addressing the woman in a calm, collected manner. "He's actually with me." She gestured towards Mikey, who stood there, a mix of relief and dread washing over him. "He's just waiting for a nappy change," Clare continued, her tone matter-of-fact yet gentle. "I had to quickly take Ethan here to the toilet first – he needed to pee." She gave Mikey a pointed look as she spoke, her gaze firmly establishing the context for the woman – that it was indeed Mikey, not Ethan, who was waiting for his nappy to be changed. The woman's expression shifted from suspicion to surprise, then to a subtle understanding, as she took in Clare's explanation. As the woman comprehended the situation, her expression morphed from one of anger to embarrassment, accompanied by a quick, flustered apology. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry, I had no idea..." Clare, with an air of understanding, dismissed the apology with a reassuring smile. "That's quite alright. It's not common, after all, to come across a young man of Mikey's age who needs a nappy change," she said with a hint of empathy. "Sadly, he struggles with staying dry." Ethan, oblivious to the underlying tension, let out an innocent chuckle at the mention of Mikey having to wear nappies. The woman, now visibly more at ease, offered a parting comment. "Well, I'll leave you to finish up then." Clare nodded, adding a remark that caused Mikey's cheeks to turn an even deeper shade of red. "Thank you. We should be quick. Thankfully, he's not messy this time." It was bad enough that this woman knew that he was wearing a nappy, let alone that he had wet it and was about to be changed on a baby changing table but Clare’s insulation that there had been times when Mikey may have been more than just wet in his nappy made him blush profusely, the awkwardness of the situation reaching a new peak. As Clare shut the door, she walked towards Mikey. She placed down the baby blue nappy changing bag, adorned with tiny cartoonish images of teddy bears and building blocks. The bag, clearly meant for infants, looked absurdly out of place next to the humiliated man. She unzipped it and began pulling out various items, placing them on a nearby counter for Mikey to see. First came a package of thick, cotton-soft baby wipes, followed by a large tub of baby powder which promised to keep skin 'soft and dry'. Then, she produced a tube of rash cream, its label boasting of its gentleness on 'baby's delicate skin'. Clare glanced up at Mikey, a smirk playing on her lips. "Can't forget one of these, can we?" With a flourish, she produced a fresh, adult-sized nappy from the bag, its crisp white material contrasting starkly with the colorful baby patterns that adorned the walls of the room. Mikey's face burned even brighter. He tried to avoid eye contact with her. Here he was, a grown man, standing helplessly as he was about to be changed like an infant. However, nothing could have prepared him for what came next. Clare, holding the fresh nappy and baby supplies, approached Mikey with a scrutinizing gaze. Before he could comprehend her intentions, she pressed her hand against the seat of his nappy, pushing slightly to gauge its contents. Mikey gasped, taken aback by the unexpected intrusion. He looked at her, his eyes pleading for a semblance of dignity. "Now, Mikey," Claire began, her tone dripping with a maternal sweetness reserved for toddlers, "from my experience, a big wetting accident is often followed by a number two. It's always best to check. So, is it just a number one, or did we have a number two as well?" The room seemed to grow hotter, and Mikey felt as if he was shrinking. The casual way Claire addressed him, was the pinnacle of his embarrassment. He stammered, "Just... just number one." Claire patted his padded rear gently, like she would to a toddler after checking their diaper. "Alright, sweetie. Just wanted to be sure. We wouldn't want any surprises, would we?" Mikey could only nod, wishing he could disappear, as he was directed up on to the changing table. The entire scene felt surreal, and he was trapped in its nightmarish grip. As Mikey lay on the changing table, the discomfort of the cold, plastic surface beneath him was overshadowed by the deep embarrassment he felt. Clare looked at Ethan, her tone warm and inclusive. "Ethan, would you like to help change Mikey into a fresh nappy to keep him nice and dry?" she asked. Ethan, with the innocent eagerness of a three-year-old, nodded his agreement. Mikey felt a new wave of mortification wash over him at the prospect of a toddler assisting in changing his nappy but at this point he had given up protesting. The role reversal was stark and deeply humiliating. Ethan's small, clumsy hands, guided by Clare, sprinkled baby powder on Mikey, the delicate dust settling on his skin, symbolizing his complete loss of autonomy. Then, under Clare's watchful eye, Ethan carefully helped fasten the new nappy around Mikey. The sound of the tapes securing into place seemed to echo around the changing room, each adhesive strip a stark reminder of Mikey's helplessness and the surreal nature of the situation. The innocent involvement of a child in such an intimate task only intensified Mikey's embarrassment. Lying there, being cared for by a grandmother and her young grandson, Mikey was acutely aware of the incongruity of it all. It was a moment that epitomized his vulnerability and loss of dignity, leaving him feeling more exposed and infantilized than ever before. "Well done, Ethan! You're such a big boy, helping me change the baby's nappy," she praised, her voice filled with genuine encouragement. Ethan beamed with pride at her words, pleased with his role in the task. The phrase "baby's nappy" hung heavily in the air. To add to Mikey's already profound embarrassment, Clare turned her attention back to him. "Now, Mikey, what do you say to Ethan for helping to change your nappy?" she asked, knowing that she was humiliating him to levels that not even Alison had achieved so far. Mikey, feeling a complex mix of humiliation and helplessness, mustered a weak, "Thank you, Ethan," his voice barely above a whisper. The simple act of thanking a toddler for assistance in changing his nappy was the final touch in a series of events that had stripped away his adult dignity, leaving him feeling smaller and more infantilized than ever. Clare proceeded with the final stages of redressing Mikey, adamantly refusing to let him do it himself despite his evident capability. The subtle yet firm denial of his autonomy only added to the weight of his embarrassment. Once Mikey was dressed, Clare turned to Ethan. "Can you put the soiled nappy in the bin for me, please?" she asked. Ethan, embracing his role, toddled over to the nappy bin, making a face and a comical 'eww, smelly' sound as he disposed of the nappy. Clare then opened the door to lead Mikey out, where they were met with the gaze of the waiting crowd. The young mother and her baby stared in disbelief, while a group of teenagers stood chatting next to Alison and Mikey's sisters, their conversation undoubtedly revolving around him. Stepping out into the supermarket, Mikey felt a crushing sense of exposure. Every eye on him felt like a judgment, and he didn't know where to look or how to stand. He shuffled awkwardly toward the group, each step a reminder of the nappy he was wearing. As they reached them, Clare patted his backside in a manner reminiscent of checking a toddler's nappy, saying in a babyish tone, "All done! We have him into a fresh new nappy now, don’t we Mikey?” Her words, though spoken softly, carried through the crowd, sealing Mikey's humiliation under the watchful eyes of the onlookers. As the group stood together, the dynamic was reminiscent of a playground scene, with Mikey sidelined like a child while the adults discussed his affairs. "Was Mikey a good boy for you, Clare?" Alison's voice, dripping with a patronising sweetness, seemed to echo in his ears. "Oh yes, he was a very good boy. And Ethan was a great helper with changing his nappy, weren't you?" Clare said, turning to Ethan with a cooing voice. "A proper changing table really does make it easier and luckily that it more than big enough for him," she continued, her voice shifting back to a practical, matter-of-fact tone that starkly juxtaposed the bizarre reality of the situation. Alison's interest was clearly captured. "Really? I hadn't thought about that. But it might be a good idea, if we could get one big enough, especially if this is going to be a regular occurrence..." Mikey was rooted to the spot in sheer horror as he listened to the conversation. The idea of having a changing table at his own home, being discussed so openly, seemed almost otherworldly. This dialogue hinted at a future where his current situation with nappies would extend beyond just a fleeting phase of humiliation into a lasting reality. Unfortunately for him, this very future – one of prolonged dependence and infantilisation – was becoming increasingly inevitable for him.

Chapter 19 If you enjoy my writing then please consider subscribing to my Patreon (www.patreon.com/backtobabyhood) where Chapter 20 is live and 21 is due to be released shortly. Subscribers get access to early release all of my stories including If You Act Like A Baby, The French Exchange and Step-Brother to Step-Baby, plus other exclusive stories and content. Any support is much appreciated "Clare! Fancy seeing you here," Alison greeted with a bright smile, noticing her neighbour's curious eyes darting towards the assortment of items she was in the process of purchasing. Clare raised an eyebrow, her gaze lingering on the unmistakably babyish items. "My, my, Alison. Are all these for Mikey? It seems you've got everything one might need for a little toddler here," her tone was playful yet dripping with insinuation. Alison chuckled, casting a faux forlorn look at the growing pile. "You know, I'd forgotten just how expensive having a 'baby' in the house is. But here we are," she replied, allowing Clare's implication to hang in the air. Ethan and Isabelle, two of Clare's grandchildren, dashed around, their giggles filling the air. Ethan was particularly energetic, playing an improvised game of tag with his sister. Mikey, already self-conscious about his situation, tried to shrink back, hoping to avoid any further humiliation. But as fate would have it, in one of Ethan's enthusiastic runs, he collided directly into Mikey's backside. The impact surprised Ethan, causing him to pause and reassess the situation. He reached out, his youthful fingers pressing against Mikey's bottom, the unusual padding catching his attention. With wide-eyed innocence, he asked, "Why's the big boy wearing a nappy?" Mikey felt his face heat up, the weight of Ethan's query making him wish the ground would swallow him up. Before he could even think of how to respond, Alison intervened with an air of practiced calm. "Mikey's had some trouble keeping dry, just like little boys sometimes do." "I'm a big boy, and big boys don't wear nappies. Only babies do." Ethan declared, with the confident certainty that only a three-year-old possesses. The girls burst into giggles, while Mikey struggled to keep his composure, humiliated by the toddler's innocent observation. Ethan looked contemplative, his little brow scrunching up in thought. "Will I have wear nappies like him?" he questioned with a tone of worry in his voice. Clare chuckled, a warm, melodic sound. She ruffled Ethan's hair affectionately, "Oh, sweetie, you're a big boy! You've been such a champ with your potty training! Remember, you've been dry day and night for so long now so I don't think you'll be needing nappies again. Big boys like you don't need them" Ethan beamed, puffing out his chest. "Yep! No nappies for me! I'm a big boy!" Alison offered a resigned sigh, her voice tinged with a hint of envy. "I bet Grandma is very proud of you. Mikey... well, we're still waiting for those dry nights. His nappy is soaked every morning" Mikey hated Alison's blatant disregard for his privacy, discussing his personal matters so openly. Did she truly harbor such disdain for him? Clare first gave Ethan a warm smile, then approached Mikey, placing a hand on his shoulder, her tone dripping with condescension. "We're very proud Ethan, he's a very big boy," she cooed. "And Mikey, don't worry, I am sure you'll be out of nappies very soon!" Lucy and Rosie exchanged a glance, mischief dancing in their eyes, knowing that there was no chance of their step brother getting of nappies anytime soon. Clare relished the chance to both probe into Mikey's predicament and embarrass him further. Never one to resist stirring the pot with some playful teasing, she asked, "So is little Mikey in nappies all the time now?" Alison hesitated, her gaze flitting to Mikey's downcast eyes before answering. "Not full-time... just when we think he might... need them. He's normally dry in the day but there's a special reason why he's wearing them for this trip. Do you want to explain why you're wearing them today Mikey?" Mikey's cheeks burned, a mix of mortification and fury. He defensively folded his arms, not wanting to engage with Alison and Clare's belittling tone. But Alison's stern voice cut through, demanding his attention. "Mikey, you have been asked a question. If you don't want to speak like a big boy and be rude then perhaps we should put your dum dums in." Yielding to Alison's intimidating tone and keen to sidestep the embarrassment of using a dummy in public, Mikey hastily apologised, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have been rude." Clearly enjoying the opportunity to humiliate the young boy, Clare tilted her head, her voice dripping with faux sweetness. "Don't worry, I'm quite used to tantrums! Now, tell me, little Mikey, what have you done to end up back in daytime nappies?" Swallowing his pride, Mikey replied with thinly veiled frustration, "I didn't tell the truth so I have to wear them as a punishment." Alison gave an affirming nod. "That's right Mikey. And what do you need in the future to avoid being in this situation again?" Mikey, his eyes flashing with a mix of irritation and resignation, knew that arguing wouldn't help him now. With a reluctant sigh, he begrudgingly answered, "I need to act like a big boy and tell the truth." Patting Mikey's cheek, Clare responded, "That's what I like to hear. You need to respect your lovely sisters and mother. You're very lucky to have them." Mikey bite his tongue as Clare turned her approval to Alison.. "Alison, I really admire what you're doing with Mikey. It's so crucial to keep young boys in line. They need to understand their place and treat people, especially women, with respect. Well done!" By now, Mikey was hyper-aware of the growing pressure in his bladder. The urge, fierce and insistent, had come out of nowhere. He shufflingly adjusted his stance, trying to alleviate the discomfort. Noticing Mikey's discomfort, Alison inquired, "Mikey, is something the matter?" For a brief moment, he debated whether to reveal his predicament but he knew he had no choice. Taking a deep breath, he hesitantly confessed, "I really need to use the bathroom." "You'll have to hold on until we get home," Alison said decisively. "I can't be taking off your nappy constantly just because you can't control your bladder. If you want to be treated like a big boy then you need to act like one." Mikey knew that it was a ridiculous argument. He wanted to fight back and protest but he knew that it was a pointless battle . He couldn't see a way out and at that moment, all he could think of was avoiding the overwhelming urge to pee. The intensifying pressure in his bladder was something Mikey hadn't felt before. A surge of anxiety hit him, recognizing his desperate predicament and the looming prospect of having to resort to using his nappy, just as a baby would. He remained blissfully unaware of the intricate web Alison had been weaving around him. She had meticulously orchestrated a sequence of situations to place him in progressively compromising positions, heightening the chances of him having an 'accident.' Every time Mikey wet the nappy, it would reinforce her argument for keeping him in them indefinitely. To ensure the success of her plan, she had been covertly adding diuretics to Mikey's drinks. This not only intensified his frequency of bathroom visits but also the urgency. As a masterstroke in her scheme, Alison had also timed everything such that Mikey was changed into his nappy for the supermarket visit before he could even think of using the toilet. Mikey shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, his face scrunched up in evident distress. His hands instinctively went to his lower abdomen, pressing lightly as if to ward off the growing urgency. His eyes darted around frantically, searching for a sign or indication of a nearby bathroom. Every so often, he'd cross his legs, squeezing them tightly together in a futile attempt to control the building pressure. Small beads of sweat began to form on his forehead, and his breathing became more shallow and rapid. He tried to distract himself, occasionally hopping in place or squeezing the sides of his legs, but the unmistakable dance of desperation was evident to anyone who chanced upon him. Alison reveled in Mikey's discomfort. She had anticipated a moment like this, though she hadn't imagined it would come about so soon in her plan. His disobedience, coupled with the unexpected ease of executing the initial phase of her scheme, had given her the licence to expedite the long term goal of returning him back to nappies full time. Instead of rushing home, she purposely lingered in conversation with Clare, hoping to heighten the likelihood of Mikey wetting his nappy. With the amount of diuretics inside him, she knew he wouldn't be able to hold on much longer. It was just a matter of time. As Mikey's unease reached fever pitch, he hesitantly broke into the conversation between Clare and Alison, "Can we please leave? I really need to use the toilet." Without sparing him a glance, Alison replied coldly, "Don't be so rude, Mikey. Can't you see that I'm in a conversation? Behave like a big boy. If you can't hold it like a big boy then you'll have use your nappy like a baby and I'll deal with you when we get home." Purposefully ignoring her stepson's urgency to return home, she carried on conversing with Clare, who eagerly listened to every detail of Michael's escapades. Mikey's eyes widened in sudden alarm, a look of sheer disbelief crossing his face. Despite his best efforts, he felt a warm rush as he involuntarily began to pee into the nappy. The sensation was foreign and deeply embarrassing; he was a big boy, and yet here he was, wetting a nappy as a baby would. As the wetness spread, his body tensed, and his cheeks flushed a deep shade of red. It was unmistakable from his posture and expression what was transpiring. The girls witnessing this spectacle, exchanged a mix of shocked and amused glances. Giggles and laughter rippled out into the air as they realised what had just happened and what this meant for their plan. Rosie was the first to pinpoint his predicament. With a teasing smile, she declared, "Looks like someone isn't a big boy after all. Have you had an accident?!" Then, without warning, she began to lower his bottoms, revealing the damp nappy for everyone to see. Mikey's desperate effort to intervene was brushed aside as she swatted his hands away and pressed the front of the nappy, feigning a check for its wetness like she was checking a toddler. Mikey's cheeks flushed a deep red as the sensation of warmth grew, and a pronounced wet patch formed on the front of his nappy. Ethan scampered over to see what was happening. Upon spotting the sodden nappy, his eyes lit up with childish glee. "The baby wet himself! Baby! Baby! Baby!" he chanted with delight. To Mikey's horror, Isabelle soon joined in with her younger brother, echoing the same chant. Dumbfounded, Mikey faced the reality that he, who had been a bully just a short while ago, was now being humiliated in public, by a toddler. Time seemed to stand still as onlookers paused their shopping to stare, their attention drawn by the shouting of Clare's grandchildren, and the sight of a boy of Mikey's age standing in a wet nappy. Throughout this spectacle, both Clare and Alison remained passive, neither intervening nor commenting. They simply watched, allowing the events to play out on their own. The raucous only ceased when Rosie stepped in to pull up Mikey's bottoms, concealing the nappy and silencing the uproarious chants of Ethan and Isabelle. By now, tears streamed down Mikey's face. Katie's words, spoken in a tone one might use with a toddler, did little to console him. "There, there, Mikey," she cooed. "We'll get you home into a nice, dry nappy in no time at all." Clare, chimed in. "He can't stay in that condition. He might develop a rash….” Before Clare could continue, she was interrupted by Ethan who was tugging at her shirt, “Grandma, I need to use the toilet like a big boy.” "Good job, Ethan! Such a big boy you are. Let's take you to the toilet, okay?" she said, glancing pointedly at Mikey, emphasizing the contrast between them. Clare hesitated for a moment before addressing Alison, "While I am there with Ethan, should I change Mikey too? If you have a clean nappy, I can take him into the changing room." Mikey's eyes widened in disbelief, as he looked at Alison, his expression begging her to refuse.

Chapter 27 If you enjoy my writing then please consider subscribing to my Patreon (www.patreon.com/backtobabyhood) where Chapters 28, 29 and 30 are live. Subscribers get access to early release all of my stories including If You Act Like A Baby, The French Exchange and Step-Brother to Step-Baby, plus other exclusive stories and content. Any support is much appreciated As Audrey led Will towards the entrance of the ladies' bathroom, an uncomfortable tension loomed palpably. Will stood at the threshold hesitantly, aware of the unfamiliar territory he was about to traverse and increasingly concerned at the pressure building in his bowels. His apprehensive gaze darted around, scanning for any disapproving glances from others who might question a boy his age entering a space typically reserved for females or for very young children accompanied by their mothers. As Audrey opened the door and signalled for Will to enter, his fear was realised when a French woman emerged from one of the stalls, her expression one of bewilderment mixed with a hint of disdain. It was evident that she couldn't quite fathom why a boy of his age was venturing into the women's bathroom. However, her curiosity quickly transformed into understanding as her gaze shifted to the nappy firmly held in Audrey's hand. An unspoken understanding passed between them, acknowledging that, in this unique circumstance, societal norms had been ignored as the lady recognised Will's urgent need for a nappy change. To his surprise, the French lady gave him a sympathetic smile as she left the bathroom. He knew that the unmistakable necessity of his current situation would lead most people to assume he had special needs. To him, that assumption was preferable, as the alternative explanation – that he was a normal teenager who had been put back into nappies because he couldn't keep his pants dry– was far more embarrassing to contemplate. Within the confined space of the ladies' bathroom, Will's anxiety grew as he stood there, waiting for Audrey to find a suitable spot to change him. He knew he had to seize this chance to ask Audrey if he could use the toilet, given the mounting discomfort in his stomach. Time was running out and while it might have seemed a simple and very normal request for most people, summoning the bravery to speak up was difficult for Will. Audrey released an exasperated sigh. By now, she was more than accustomed to changing Will’s nappies but she seemed perplexed about the current situation as she looked for somewhere to change the teenage boy. The wall-mounted changing table was clearly intended for infants, and it was evident that a boy of Will's size wouldn't fit. The cubicles were too small, and the restaurant lacked a specific baby changing room. She contemplated returning to the car for the task but after a short pause, she decided against the inconvenience of having to move the car seats and head back outside. With no other option available, she placed the changing mat on the floor and signalled for Will to lie down. The thin material provided minimal comfort against the cool tiles beneath. He hesitated for a moment, glancing at the open door, his heart pounding in his chest. He felt exposed and vulnerable, acutely aware of the fact that anyone could walk in at any moment and witness this humiliating spectacle. Suppressing his discomfort as best he could, he reluctantly complied, lowering himself onto the mat. He lay there, the cold sensation seeping through his shirt. Audrey crouched down beside him, her hands deftly unbuttoning his trousers and tugging them down, revealing the soaked nappy clinging to his skin. Will closed his eyes, trying to shut out the reality of the situation as she worked to remove the wet padding. The sensation of the nappy being peeled away was both uncomfortable and unnerving, his skin exposed to the cold air, only adding to his discomfort. His heart raced as he lay there, unclothed from the waist down, the mat offering scant protection from the harsh tiles. He felt like a spectacle, a helpless participant in a scene that was beyond his control. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, his body tense with a mixture of embarrassment and discomfort. In this deeply humbling situation, being changed in a women's restroom, open to any passerby, he found himself longing for the comfort and privacy of the changing table mat in Guillaume's room. It was, at the very least, a warmer and more secluded space. Suddenly, a blaring ringtone echoed from Audrey's phone. She picked up and started conversing in an animated manner, granting Will a fleeting yet precious opportunity for contemplation. Will was preoccupied by the compelling urgency to tell Audrey about his need to use the toilet for a number two before she completed the task of putting on a new nappy. Or even worse, before he had an accident while waiting for the fresh nappy to be secured in place. Even at this point, he was having to fight hard to avoid messing himself as the need to relieve himself was intensifying by the second. As Will considered his next step, he found himself reflecting on how Audrey had just dealt with the situation and her treatment of him in general. Would she have applied the same humiliating approach with Karim, or was this level of public embarrassment reserved for Will only? Why was so open and blasé about his nappies? Did she actually want him to use the toilet? Did she understand his need for privacy and the embarrassment she was causing him? Why had his Mum allowed Audrey to do this to him? These thoughts swirled through Will's mind. Audrey appeared entirely at ease with the current situation, with Will in his nappy, undergoing changes as though it were completely ordinary for a boy his age. She seemed to regard his incontinence as a minor issue, taking a matter-of-fact stance that both provided a sense of comfort and, at the same time, left Will feeling a sense of frustration. He couldn't help but wonder whether her approach to handling the situation was born out of necessity due to language barriers and their difficulty in effective communication, or if there were deeper motives at play. Audrey had forsaken verbal inquiries in favour of taking direct action for the sake of efficiency and avoiding awkward verbal exchanges. However, this approach came at the cost of his dignity, casting him into the uncomfortable role of an infant with no say in the matter. To some extent, Will recognized the rationale behind her actions, given the significant challenge posed by their language barrier, which severely hindered their ability to communicate. Yet, a part of him believed that Audrey could have put in more effort to establish a means of communication between them. He acknowledged his own role in this, realising that if he were less reserved and more assertive in expressing his needs, he might not find himself in this predicament. But, an unsettling feeling persisted that Audrey might be subjecting him to unnecessary humiliation, perhaps deriving an odd satisfaction from his situation. Still, deep down, he believed that Audrey's actions weren't driven by the intent to demean him and that it was more likely that she didn't fully grasp the extent of his discomfort and how her actions made him feel. He desperately wanted to get the words out of his mouth but something held him back, no matter how much he tried. He just couldn’t get the words out of his mouth…. It went beyond mere language differences. Will's difficulties in asking to use the bathroom dated back to his school days when he had multiple accidents due to his reluctance to ask permission to go to the toilet. He didn't know why. Perhaps it was the shame of telling someone such personal matters, or perhaps it was rooted in his inherent shyness and anxiety? Or maybe it was his personality and upbringing? Will inherently had a submissive nature, especially towards motherly figures. He was the quintessential "mummy's boy," seldom standing up for himself or voicing his needs. His upbringing conditioned him to do what he was told and not challenge. The silent battle inside Will's head continued. What would he say to Audrey? Which toilet could be use? It would be strange for him to use the ladies cubicles at his age and he didn't have any underwear so what would he wear, if Audrey allowed him to go to the men's bathroom? Should he just make a run for the cubicle now and deal with the consequences later? All of these questions swirled incessantly in Will's head as he tried to work out what to do, knowing that time was fast running out. Audrey abruptly ended her call and returned to the task at hand. As she went to reach for the fresh nappy, Will finally summoned the courage to sit up and convey his need. He had no idea how to say what he wanted in French so he decided just to say toilet in the hope she would understand him. "Audrey, toilette," Will faltered, yearning for Audrey to grasp the urgency in his plea. Acknowledging that Audrey was unclear about his need, Will decided to resort to using English in the hope she'd understand. "Audrey... I need.... to use... the toilet." He said nervously, stuttering between words while also trying to speak slowly to maximise the chances of Audrey understanding his request. Audrey's inscrutable gaze remained unchanged. Will's anxiety deepened, and he took a desperate measure to communicate his urgency. He shifted from the changing position where he had been laid, rolled onto his stomach, and began emphatically pointing at his backside, hoping this gesture would convey the pressing need to relieve himself. However, Audrey's response did not align with the answer Will was hoping for, as she merely returned him to the position he had been in and continued with the nappy change. It was like a game of very bad game of charades - how could Will convey what he needed, if Audrey wasn’t interested in figuring out what he was trying to tell her? Then he had an idea, he would stand up and run into the cubicle and use the toilet. It would be far more embarrassing, if he pooed himself in public rather than deal with the consequences of upsetting Audrey. This newfound determination marked a departure from his typical submissive and reserved demeanour. In that critical moment, Will was driven by a resolute inner resolve to assert himself, acutely aware of the dire consequences that could befall him if he failed to prevent himself from soiling the nappy. Just as he was about to execute his plan, he was interrupted by the sound of footsteps and then the opening of the bathroom door. His eyes, wide and fixed, met a gaze that held him captive as he realised who now stood before him...

Chapter 13 If you enjoy my writing then please consider subscribing to my Patreon (www.patreon.com/backtobabyhood) where Chapter 14 of this story is live, with Chapter 15 set to be released shortly. You will get access to early release all of my stories including If You Act Like A Baby, The French Exchange and Step-Brother to Step-Baby, plus other stories and content. Any support is much appreciated Hazel returned from Leo’s nursery, her arms filled with a stack of plush, cloth diapers, along with a bottle of baby lotion, a container of baby powder, and a large, soft changing mat. The items made a crinkling noise as she moved, announcing her presence before she even stepped into the room. With a willingness to oversee the task at hand, Hazel directed Jamie with a tone teeming with mock sweetness, "Alright, Mr. Potty Pants, lay on the changing mat so we can get you changed into a fresh diaper and all ready to get home. We can't have you getting a rash can we?" Jamie's face flushed with apprehension at the thought of being laid bare in front of Hazel. "Mum, can't you do it, please?" he implored, his voice tinged with desperation. "No, Jamie," his mother replied gently. "Babies don't get to choose who changes their diapers. You'll have to become accustomed to others taking care of you. If Hazel is kindly willing to change your messy diaper, you should express your gratitude and say thank you." She paused, giving Jamie a moment to process her words, her expectant eyes waiting for his response. "So Jamie," she prompted, "what do you say to Hazel for changing your stinky bottom?" Recognising this moment as inopportune for a dispute with his mother, Jamie’s complexion adopted a more intense hue of embarrassment. Left with no alternatives, he uncomfortably wriggled, managing to mumble a muted, "Thank you, Hazel." “What a good little boy,” Hazel cooed as she began the process of changing him. The heavy, soiled plastic pants were gently lowered to his knees, uncovering the mess he'd made, a vivid display of his return to babyhood. The aroma and sight were undeniable, a test to the composure of Hazel who completed the task with a veiled look of disgust. In this spectacle of infantile disorder, Hazel’s touch remained gentle and assured. Each wipe cleansed the chaos, navigating the landscape of Jamie’s skin, softly erasing the reminders of the stinky mess he had left in his diaper. As Hazel focused on her task, a storm of emotions swirled in Jamie’s mind. Entwined in his personal desires and the new reality enveloping him, the earlier excitement at fulfilling his wishes now clashed with the harsh reality of his exposed vulnerability and the palpable disappointment in his mother's expression. “I am very sorry I don't have a fresh pair of your big boy pants. Maybe your mummy can take you shopping for more tomorrow.” Hazel’s words, drenched in sarcasm, hung in the air as she pulled the plastic pants back into place, patting the back of the newly donned diaper with a finality that echoed in the silent room. "Thank you Hazel. Time for beddy-byes, Jamie," his Mum announced, her tone lighter, as if finding a semblance of humor in the unprecedented situation. Eager to escape the situation and cover up how ridiculous he looked, Jamie muttered "I'll go get my shorts; I think they're upstairs." His mother, now adopting a tone reserved for toddlers, denied his request. "No need for shorts my little one. Babies wear just their diapers on warm nights like this, don’t they Hazel?" Hazel chimed in, equally playing along. "Oh, absolutely, Lauren. And you know, babies also need their bottles." She handed Jamie an old baby bottle that once belonged to Leo. "There you go, Jamie." "And don't forget your stuffed animal, sweetheart," Hazel added, as she leaned down to Jamie's eye level, handing him the plush rabbit. "Mr. Rabbit will help you sleep like a baby. Sweet dreams, little one. See you very soon." Both women shared a look, conveying a message stronger than words: this was the path Jamie had now chosen, whether he liked it or not. Hazel glanced at the play area, then back at Jamie. "You know, I'll also bring over the playpen tomorrow morning. Leo's too big for it now, but it seems just perfect for Jamie, don't you think?" Lauren nodded in agreement, her eyes meeting Hazel's. "That sounds like a wonderful idea. Jamie will get a lot of use out of it and it will help keep him out of mischief" Hazel patted his diapered backside as Jamie's Mom led him towards the door. Jamie remained in disbelief at what was happening to him. He couldn't really believe that his Mum was about to take him home looking like this. What would his family say? What if someone saw him? As they approached the door, Jamie took a deep breath, summoning the courage to ask for forgiveness. "Mom, wearing diapers in front of everyone is just too humiliating. Please can you give me one last chance? At least let me put on my shorts?" Mom looked at him, her eyes filled with a mix of disappointment and resolve. "Jamie, we've been down this road before. Actions have consequences. We warned you— if you act like a baby, you'll be treated like one and this time there is no going back!." "But Mom, please, it's just too embarrassing to look like this in front of everyone. What if someone sees me dressed like this?," Jamie pleaded, desperation lining his voice. Mom sighed, weighing her words carefully before speaking. "You'll have to get used to it as this is how you're going to be dressed for the foreseeable future. Remember, it was you who made the decision to act like a baby and now you're going to be dressed and treated just like one." "Mum please, I'll be a laughing stock. All my friends will tease me. One last chance... please?", Jamie pleaded his case, with tears forming in his eyes, as the consequences of his actions started to become clear. Mom stared at him, as if trying to glimpse a shred of sincerity in his eyes. "Jamie, your promises have lost their value. You've broken them one too many times. Maybe the humiliation you're so afraid of will finally make you understand the gravity of your actions." Jamie felt his heart sink, his last glimmer of hope extinguishing. "So, you're really going to go through with this?" "Yes, Jamie, I am," Mom affirmed, her voice tinged with a sadness that only accentuated her firm stance. "We warned you—act like a baby, and you'll be treated like one. This time, there are no more chances. You're going to get the fully baby treatment" Hazel swung the door open. With a reluctance to let him out of her sight, Jamie's mother firmly grasped his hand, leading him into the great outdoors. Upon setting foot outside, Jamie was anxious to make a swift exit, but his mother's lingering farewell to her friend thwarted his intentions. "I'm truly sorry for all of this, Hazel. I'll talk to Ellie tonight to organize the babysitting schedule and phone you in the morning," his mother expressed. "At least I can now focus on potty training Leo for good now. It seems like Jamie will be adopting his diaper-wearing days instead!" The words stinging Jamie as they light-heartedly spoke of the toddler outgrowing diapers before him. As they finally began walking home, Hazel called out a loud, mocking goodbye. "Bye-bye, Jamie! Hope you have a dry night!" Her words, laced with ridicule and a hint of revenge for how he had behaved with her son. Despite being just a walk across the street, it felt like a marathon to Jamie. The night air nipped at his skin, contrasting sharply with the warmth of the thick diaper wrapped around his lower half. His mother's grip on his hand was firm and unyielding, her fingers interlaced with his as they tread the well-known path to their home. Each step was a pulse of anxiety for Jamie, his eyes darting around nervously, scanning the quiet street for any neighbours who might be out for an evening stroll or peering out from behind their curtains. The bulky diaper and the absence of his shorts made him acutely aware of his exposed state. Despite the hour, the streetlight's glow illuminated their short journey, casting long shadows as they moved. Luckily, the lateness of the hour and the brevity of their walk home saved him from the additional disgrace of being spotted by passersby. But as he walked into his home and was led into the living room by his mom, he found his sisters and father. They had been absorbed in the TV but now shifted their focus to the unexpected scene unfolding before them. "What's all this?" Dad chuckled, "Trouble, I presume?" "I suppose it shouldn't come as a shock, but Jamie has been using Leo's diapers for the past month or so. We returned from the movies to find him all wet and dirty, asleep in Leo's playpen, and nursing a baby bottle. Quite the spectacle," Mom explained. "Looks like the entertainment hasn't ended," Jillian said with a laugh. "How adorable is he, our very own baby Jamie! Mom, we need to snap a photo. Where's the camera?" "No need to rush Jillian. You'll have all summer to see Jamie like this. He'll be living the baby life for the foreseeable future. But for now, it's beddy-byes for our little one," Mom continued. Jamie stood rooted to the spot, his head bowed in a posture of surrender, as the conversation about him swirled through the room. Words spoken, portraying him as an infant in need of constant care and attention, filled the air. A tumult of emotions battled within him, a storm raging between anticipation and dread. A part of Jamie felt excitement at the unfolding situation. The thought of being coddled, and the care that came along with it, enticed a hidden part of his soul while the prospect of wearing diapers and being looked after awakened a secret yearning he had harboured for a long time. However, along with the anticipation, a potent stream of fear and uncertainty swelled. His mind swarmed with unanswered questions and concerns about the extent and duration of this unexpected situation. Would they truly make him wear diapers all the time? How far would they take this? Would he have to use the diapers? How long would he be in them? What would his friends and family think of him? What about school? Should he protest or should he accept this once in a lifetime opportunity? Observing the spectacle unfold, Ellie also had mixed emotions and lots of questions. She had been privy to Jamie's secret activities for a while, leading her to ponder on the critical "what if." Could she have forestalled this situation if she had unveiled his secret to their parents sooner? A surge of empathy for her brother washed over her. She knew that he must be mortified at looking like a baby in front of his family like this but on the the other hand, Ellie knew that this was, in some twisted way, what Jamie actually wanted. The public unveiling may have felt extreme, but perhaps it finally granted him the license to embrace the baby-like role he seemed to desire so much. As the scenario continued to unfold, a mute dialogue unfolded between the siblings. In the subdued glow of the living room illumination, their eyes locked. Jamie’s eyes, filled with regret, silently sought forgiveness, to which Ellie responded with a gentle, resigned head shake. Their mother, ever observant, caught the tail end of this silent exchange, noticing Ellie's subtle shake of her head and Jamie's apologetic gaze. "Ellie, did you know your brother was doing this?" The abrupt question from their mother shattered the silent exchange, her eyes piercing as they shifted towards the elder daughter. Under the oppressive scrutiny of her mother's stare, Ellie’s shoulders wilted. Exhaling a hesitant sigh, she confessed, “Yes, Mom, I knew... I went around to the Steinberg's the other day and found him wearing Leo’s diapers,” her voice dwindling as her gaze floated back to Jamie. "He promised me it would be the last time, and begged me not to tell you so I decided to give him another chance. I'm sorry for keeping it from you," she added in a soft murmur. Though a stroke of disappointment painted their mother’s expression, she kept her silence, opting to focus on the immediate situation. "Well, you should have told us, but let’s not linger on that now. Jamie has made his decision, and now it’s time for him to face the repercussions. We're going to need your help as it's a lot of work looking after a baby. And Jamie and Leo are going to need a new babysitter..." Relieved that her mother had accepted her explanation without too much interrogation, an inkling of excitement stirred within Ellie at the thought of reclaiming her role as the nurturing older sister she once enjoyed being when Jamie was actually a little kid. If this is what he really wanted then she was going to embrace it as well. "What a cute little boy you are. You look very cute in your diapees" Ellie teased Jamie. "I'm looking forward to having a baby brother to look after again. Is he freshly diapered for the night?" "Yes, he's all set and ready for bed. Say goodnight, Jamie. I'll prepare your bottle and tuck you in shortly. Girls, I'll rejoin you in a moment; we have arrangements to make," Mom said. Jamie followed his mum to the kitchen while she prepared his nighttime bottle and then up the stairs to his bedroom. She was surprisingly tender as she tucked him into bed. She kissed him and said, "It's what you want, isn't it? This time we're going to give you exactly what you want until you've had enough, and then some. It'll be just like the old days when you were little. Sweet dreams, baby boy." She handed him a warm bottle of milk and switched off the light before leaving the room and returning downstairs. As he lay there, his thoughts were in turmoil. How had things reached this point? The weight of the gazes from his entire family, all having just witnessed his regression back into diapers, lingered heavily in Jamie's mind. He almost wanted to cry again, but there was something else he wanted to do first. With a shaky hand, he brought the bottle to his lips, its nipple resting gently against them. As he began to suckle, the warm liquid flowed, cascading down his throat, its soothing path a momentary balm to his internal tempest. Then, as he continued to draw from the bottle, he took a deep breath and began to let his bladder loose. The gradual warmth, broadening consistently across his groin, further integrated him into the gentle and earnest call of the infant role. Jamie clutched Mr. Rabbit to his chest, its plush form offering a silken embrace. His fingers buried within the softness, holding on as though it were an anchor in the swirling sea of his emotions. As he drifted into a restless sleep, the events of the day replayed in his mind, a reminder of the new chapter that was unfolding in his life, a chapter filled with diapers, bottles, and a return to infancy that he had never imagined would become his reality.

Thanks @Zylo1893. Rest assured, there are many twists and additions in store. What I mean is that the core of the story will be based on the original plotline. Last week, I published Chapter 14 on my Patreon, which, while inspired by the original story, includes much more detail. It’s over 3000 words and I loved writing it so hopefully you’ll enjoy it when it comes!

I'm thrilled to hear that you like it. Indeed, it does closely resemble the original chapter, and that's intentional. With the original author's consent, I've made an effort to preserve much of the initial storyline. As you continue reading, you'll hopefully recognise more references to the original plot. This ABDL story was a personal favourite of mine, and I aim to honour its original plot while adding new twists and details along the way.

Thank you for all of the feedback, I am glad you’re enjoying the story. Lots more to come! For anyone looking to support my writing or read ahead, I just released Chapter 14 (which is 3000 words long) on my Patreon account.

If you enjoy my writing then please consider subscribing to my Patreon where Chapter 13 and 14 of this story have been released. You will get access to early release of all of my stories including some exclusive Patreon only stories and other posts. It also helps me keep writing so I really appreciate any support😊 www.patreon.com/BacktoBabyhood Chapter 12 While her friends chatted and enjoyed their drinks, Jamie's mom struggled to stay engaged. Her thoughts were consumed by the looming showdown she would have with her son. She was acutely aware that the current state of affairs could not continue; Jamie had irrevocably crossed a line. They had made it clear to him: if he acted like a baby, then he would be treated like one. This time, she was determined that there would be no turning back, especially after he had drawn Leo and Hazel into his games. Sensing that her friend was not enjoying the evening and had things on her mind, Hazel suggested that they depart earlier than originally planned. "Lauren, we should probably head home and check on the boys," Hazel said in a composed voice. Lauren nodded, relieved for the opportunity to escape the cycle of her thoughts. "Yes, let's do that. I'll just head to the bathroom first" She picked up her phone from the table and navigated her way to the restroom, a sense of urgency in her steps. Once inside the stall, she hurriedly unlocked her phone, eager to check the webcam app. But it wouldn't load. Frustrated, she hit refresh, only to realize the weak reception in the bathroom was thwarting her. As the sound of the flushing toilet filled the small space, Lauren paused, hand on the door latch, gathering her thoughts. Even if she couldn't load the webcam again, she had seen more than enough earlier to confirm her worst fears. As she readied herself to face whatever awaited her, she fully expected Jamie to be back in ‘big boy’ clothes and acting like everything was normal. It was a prospect that filled her with both relief and dread; relief because she didn't want her friend Hazel to suspect anything was amiss with her son, and dread because it would be yet another layer of deceit to contend with. After a brief exchange of goodbyes with their friends, Hazel and Lauren headed to the car and began the short journey home. As they pulled up outside, Lauren took a deep breath, attempting to steady her trembling hands on the steering wheel. Aware that her friend was acting out of character, Hazel reached over and put her hand on Lauren's shoulder before asking "Is everything ok? You seem a bit stressed about something?" Aware that her friend would be angered both by Jamie's actions and her own prior reticence, Lauren knew she couldn't disclose the real issue at hand. Instead, she deflected, attributing her distant demeanor to work-related stress. "Thanks Hazel, it's nothing really. Just work stuff." "Ok, don't let it get you down. I'm going to head in and check in on the boys. You follow me in when you're ready." Hazel sympathetically replied, before climbing out of the car and heading to the house. Unlocking the door, Hazel stepped inside, with Lauren following close behind. Jamie was still sound asleep in the playpen, blissfully unaware of the impending storm. The room, however, was permeated with a foul smell, the messy diaper serving as a testament to his earlier actions. She shouted to warn Jamie of their arrival, "Hi Jamie, we're back!" but received no response. Switching on the light, Hazel's expression twisted into one of shock and revulsion at the sight that met her eyes. "Lauren, get in here," she urgently beckoned, her voice filled with disbelief. Lauren hurried into the living room. Her eyes blinked in disbelief as she processed what she was witnessing; Jamie, asleep in a playpen, wearing a diaper. Just then, as if sensing the seismic shift in the room's atmosphere, Jamie's eyes fluttered open. His gaze met those of his mother and Hazel, and the look of sheer terror on his face spoke louder than any words ever could. Jamie's eyes widened as he looked up, the reality of his situation hitting him like a tidal wave. He was still dressed in the thick triple-layered diaper, the plastic pants rustling with every movement. The plush rabbit was nestled against his chest, and the baby bottle sat beside him, evidence of his regression into this world of comfort and vulnerability. Worse still, the smell left no room for doubt that he had filled his diaper like a baby. His pure horror at the situation was partly offset by an odd enjoyment at the embarrassment he was feeling. "Oh my lord, Lauren, will you look at this?!" Hazel's voice was a mix of disbelief and amusement. "Jamie! What are you doing in the playpen? Are those diapers you're wearing?" she questioned. "Can you believe this, Lauren?" Hazel's voice balanced between astonishment and amusement. "The world around Jamie seemed to blur as his mom and Hazel stared down at him, their expressions ranging from anger to shock to amusement. He felt a deep sense of humiliation wash over him, a burning heat that reached his cheeks and spread throughout his body. "Look, he's even got one of Leo's bottles!" Hazel's voice held a hint of playful disbelief. Jamie sat there speechless, unsure what to say. Her voice began to rise in both anger and frustration, "What do you think you're doing? You're supposed to be babysitting Leo, not the other way around!" Taking a brief moment to consider how much she should reveal about her sons antics, and opting to leave out the details of what she had seen on the webcam earlier, Lauren finally spoke, voicing her astonishment and anger at her son, "Jamie, I think you need to explain yourself to Hazel immediately. That is, if you haven't regressed back to baby talk along with everything else." Amid the whirlwind of emotions, Jamie struggled to find his voice. "I was... uh... interested in seeing what it felt like," he stammered, his words barely audible. Lauren's face displayed a mixture of resignation and bemusement. "I thought you would be through with this ridiculous, childish behavior by now, but I guess you're not." She turned to Hazel, her expression a mix of guilt, shame and anger. "I'm so sorry, Hazel, I'm embarrassed to tell you that Jamie seems to enjoy pretending to be an infant and acting like a baby. I told you about the last incident with the Pampers to you, didn't I? Of course now that he's nearly an adult, I genuinely thought I could trust him and that he was past this. Jamie, where did you even find those oversized plastic pants? Are those Leo's diapers you have on?" "Of course they are," Hazel's voice contained a hint of both exasperation and relief, finally making sense of the mystery that had been perplexing her since Jamie started babysitting. Her voice took on a more serious tone. "Now I understand what Leo was saying about Jamie 'being a baby,' and why we've been going through twice as many diapers since he started taking care of him. I had to call the service to ask for extras. You've been doing this for weeks, haven't you?" Jamie's face turned an even darker shade of red, his humiliation reaching a crescendo. Nodding in a way that clearly conveyed his shame, he felt minuscule within the confines of the playpen, under the scrutinizing eyes of two adults. He yearned to soothe himself with the pacifier, but knew that it was out of the question at the present time. Mom's sigh was one of both frustration and disappointment. "For Pete's sake, Jamie, you need a babysitter more than Leo does." The inquisition continued, each question unraveling more facets of Jamie's secret life. Trapped under the intense scrutiny of both Mom and Janet, he felt his face heat up with embarrassment as he confessed to everything— from ordering the jumbo-sized plastic pants on the internet, to surreptitiously wearing diapers while supposed to be babysitting Leo, right down to discarding the used ones in Leo’s diaper pail. The weight of his shame became so unbearable that he couldn't help but break down in tears. "Enough, Jamie," his mom interrupted, visibly frustrated. "The sight of my eighteen-year-old crying while sitting in a playpen is just too much. I think it's time we go home." As I clumsily clambered out of the playpen, Hazel couldn't help but burst into laughter. "I have to say, those saggy diapers are quite the look on you. Seems like you're overdue for a change. Hold on," she paused to sniff the air, "Did you actually mess yourself as well?" "Um, yeah," he stammered, attempting to regain my composure and stem the flow of tears. "That's it. Dirty diapers are the last straw," his mom declared. "Do you remember what your father said the last time we caught you in this predicament? We said you were going to experience what it's truly like to be a baby. Given your recent actions, it seems you're very keen on that idea. What's do you think, Hazel? Do you think a bit of 'baby treatment' is the fitting punishment for this behaviour?" "I believe it's precisely what Jamie needs," Hazel replied, somewhat amused. "I'll arrange for the diaper service to come by first thing tomorrow morning. But bear in mind, they require a minimum two-month commitment." "That's perfectly fine," Lauren said, nodding approvingly. "Two months should cover him until the new school year kicks off. Then we can assess whether he's ready to be toilet-trained or if nursery school is a better fit." Jamie was in utter disbelief. A diaper service, for a full two months! "Unfortunately, this means I'll have to find another babysitter for Leo. Jamie, you're clearly not up to the task. It sounds like you've earned a new role as his new play buddy," Mrs Steinberg declared, her voice filled with both incredulity and a touch of humor. "You know, Hazel, Ellie was only saying yesterday that she would love her old job back looking after Leo. Maybe she could look after both boys?," Lauren mused. "That seems fitting. Jamie, how would you feel about your sister taking over babysitting duties? Oh, he's teary-eyed again. Lauren, should I grab some fresh diapers for your little one?" Hazel said, a playful lilt in her voice. Overwhelmed by embarrassment, Jamie struggled to find humor in the situation. He mumbled his agreement, avoiding eye contact. "Yes please, it's quite evident he needs them. This time, Jamie will be staying in diapers until he's completely fed up of them."

Hi Kerry, thank you for the feedback which I appreciate. In hindsight, and having read it again, I agree that the writing could have been better. While I stand by the view that Audrey has always been very matter of fact about Will’s accidents (going back to the way that she took him to the baby changing room after he wet himself in the car or her treatment of him while he was wearing a nappy at the theatre), I also acknowledge that she has generally been compassionate and the decision to publicly check Will’s nappy does seem a bit of out of character. I pride myself on writing stories to a high standard but writing three at once and having a full-time job/busy family life does make it difficult to always find the time and energy to maintain the writing to the level that I would like to. I have already written and released the next two chapters on my Patreon but I’ll note your comments for any future chapters so thank you for sharing your thoughts

If you enjoy my writing then please consider subscribing to my Patreon where Chapter 12 and 13 of this story have been released. You will get access to early releases of all of my stories, exclusive stories and posts and it will help me continue to keep writing. I really appreciate your support. Thank you www.patreon.com/BacktoBabyhood Chapter 11 Jamie sat snugly in the playpen, surrounded by an array of colorful toys and plush animals. The soft glow of the television screen illuminated his cherubic face as he sucked contentedly on his pacifier. Every so often, he would remove it from his mouth to take a sip of formula milk from the bottle that lay beside him. This was special as one of his favorite episodes of Fireman Sam came on. His eyes widened with excitement as the theme song filled the room. He watched the animated characters on the screen as if they were his personal heroes coming to life, their adventures a thrilling spectacle that captivated his current toddler-like imagination. In that moment, wrapped in the comforting padding of his diaper, the pacifier in his mouth and the soothing tones of familiar childhood voices, Jamie was in baby bliss. However, as he continued to enjoy the stories of Pontypandy, another storyline was unfolding in the depths of his belly. He felt the unmistakable stirrings in his gut. Despite the lighthearted adventure playing out on the screen, it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to focus as the laxative started to work its way through his body. His stomach churned audibly, a cacophony that rose above the TV's cheerful dialogue. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead as he felt a mounting pressure deep in his gut. Each twinge and rumble served as a warning sign, like distant thunder before a storm. He clenched his muscles in an attempt to stave off the inevitable, even pressing his hand subtly against his abdomen, hoping physical pressure might help. Despite his desperate attempts to distract himself, the Fireman Sam episode was becoming increasingly blurry, its dialogue fading into the background noise of his escalating internal conflict. Simultaneously, his bladder began to ache, a sensation magnified by the large volume of liquid he had consumed earlier. It was a mounting pressure, growing more and more insistent with each passing second. As these feelings converged, Jamie had a moment of realisation: Hazel had warned him about the strength of those laxatives. Perhaps taking four tablets was overkill. The sensations escalated quickly, almost as if his digestive system and bladder were in a race to see which could assert itself first. There was no fighting it now; the laxatives were overwhelmingly potent, their effects amplified by the liquid he had imbibed. As Jamie sat in the playpen, he mustered every ounce of self-control to fight off his body's growing urges. His goal was to delay as long as he could, savoring the sensation of being utterly helpless when nature inevitably took over. Though he feigned being a 'big boy' struggling to maintain control, he knew all along that there was only one inevitable conclusion - a wet and messy diaper. Clenching his muscles tightly, he pressed his hand against the padded seat of his full diaper, attempting to create a physical barrier to the oncoming tide. He held his breath, feeling like a dam holding back an imminent flood, every fiber of his being engaged in a desperate, last-ditch effort to delay the inevitable and prevent an 'accident' in his diaper. Then, without any warning, a powerful, involuntary surge of warm poo exploded into the seat of his diaper. It was a torrent he couldn't have anticipated, filling his diaper to a capacity he hadn't thought possible. The sensation that he had no control was shocking but incredible, as if a part of him had split open to unleash this elemental force. Almost synchronously, his bladder joined the fray. A rapid and unbroken stream of urine released, blending with the preexisting mess and saturating the already stretched fabric of his diaper. The flow seemed continuous, as though his body was cleansing itself with relentless determination. It was like a dual eruption that left him feeling both emptied and strangely replenished. In an attempt to measure the extent of his control, Jamie endeavored to halt the flow of both urine and feces. Despite his best efforts, he found he couldn't stop them; they continued to fill his diaper. This confirmed, without a shadow of a doubt, that he had truly relinquished control over his bladder and bowels, mirroring the helplessness of an infant. In the aftermath, Jamie lay there, momentarily stunned by the scale and intensity of what had just occurred. The bulky, overloaded diaper felt like a physical manifestation of his complete surrender to his body's demands. At that moment, he felt more babyish than ever before. He had just totally lost control of his bodily functions and it felt incredible. He felt a deep sense of contentment. As strange as it might sound to others, this was, in that moment, the most satisfying sensation he'd ever experienced. Experimentally, he shifted his position and bounced gently on his bottom, relishing the fullness of his diaper and the warm mess it contained. The diaper was so packed that his range of motion had become noticeably limited. But for Jamie, this wasn't an issue; it was an enhancement of his current state. In his eyes, he was in baby heaven. Briefly, the thought crossed his mind—would the diaper smell become too strong? Yet, in that instant, he didn't care. He knew that Hazel and his mom wouldn't be back for a while, leaving him ample time for cleanup and ventilation of the room. Jamie's eyes sparkled with delight as the next episode of Fireman Sam rolled onto the screen. Yet, even in this perfect moment, he felt the pull of a new idea. What could make this experience even more comforting, even more babyish? A nap. And not just any nap, but one in his playpen, cushioned by a wet and messy diaper. The very thought made him giddy with excitement. Jamie pushed himself up to stand within the playpen, wobbling a little due to the weight of his loaded diaper. He leaned over the edge of the playpen to grab his phone from the adjacent side table. Fingers dancing over the screen, he set an alarm for one hours time, imagining the surreal sensation of waking up in a wet and messy diaper. In his excitement, Jamie failed to notice that his phone's battery was perilously low, a mere 5%. Oblivious, he placed the phone back on the table and plopped down onto his padded bottom, the impact spreading a warm, gooey sensation against his lower back and crotch concurrently. A smile stretched across his face; he felt like a child on Christmas morning. His full diaper providing a strange sort of comfort, a physical reminder of his utter surrender to this peculiar form of bliss. Nestled among his toys and the enveloping aroma of his messy diaper, he thought about the unique, surreal experience of waking back up in the state that he currently was. Closing his eyes, Jamie drifted into a peaceful, deep sleep sucking his pacifier as the sound of animated fire trucks and daring rescues played out in the background. As he snoozed, his phone's screen dimmed, and soon after, the battery died. The alarm would never ring. Jamie was notorious for his inability to wake up on his own, always reliant on alarms or someone else nudging him awake. This time, he was left to the whims of his own body clock, blissfully unaware as he slumbered on, enshrouded in the innocence and comforts of babyhood, and ignorant to the fact that his mother and Hazel would be arriving home sooner than anticipated .

If you enjoy my writing then please consider subscribing to my Patreon. Chapter 19 of this story has been released with Chapter 20 due soon. You will get access to early releases to all of my stories, access to exclusive stories and post and it will help me continue to keep writing. I really appreciate your support. Thank you www.patreon.com/BacktoBabyhood Chapter 18 Shouldering into the supermarket, the sliding doors parting before them, Mikey felt a surreal disconnect between the normality of the grocery setting and the unease he carried with him. The glaring lights and the chatter of shoppers were an abrasive reminder of just how public this place was. His sisters, Katie, Lucy, and Rosie, kept an eye on him, a pack of vigilant overseers, ensuring his compliance every step of the way. The heels of Rosie and Alison clicked rhythmically on the tiled floor, as if marching to some ominous beat that only Mikey could hear. With each waddling step he took, he was keenly aware of the bulk between his legs, an unnatural addition that caused him both physical and emotional discomfort. After collecting a few everyday items, Alison directed the girls and Mikey towards the baby aisle. As they navigated into the baby aisle, Mikey felt a heightened sense of vulnerability. Shelves stocked with nappies, baby wipes, and baby food towered on either side of him, each item a glaring reminder of his current predicament. His mom, Alison, seemed to enjoy perusing through the items, as if this were just another ordinary shopping trip. Then Rosie turned to him with a calculated smile on her face. Mikey knew whatever was coming next wouldn't be good news. "Mikey, sweetheart, let's make sure you're still clean and dry, shall we?" Rosie said, her voice unmodulated, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. But of course, it wasn't—at least not for a 17-year-old like Mikey, being asked in a public setting about the current state of his nappy. Feeling his cheeks flush with humiliation, Mikey cast his eyes downward. He looked at her with fear in his eyes as he begged his mercy. "Please not here." He quietly whispered to her, not wanting to make a big scene. "Mikey, what did Mum tell you? If you want to make a big fuss and cry then perhaps you need your dummy in to calm you down?", she said in a patronising tone, as if she was speaking with a toddler. Before he could protest further, Rosie had already reached over and tugged at the waistband of his shorts, pulling them down just enough to expose the top of his nappy. Mikey bit the inside of his cheek, feeling utterly stripped of his dignity. What had started as an odd, humiliating scenario had escalated into a full-blown spectacle of his subjugation. She performed a quick, visual check and then, without any regard for the onlookers, put her hand at the back of the nappy for a more thorough inspection. "Looks like you're still dry for now, Mikey," she declared, finally pulling his shorts back up. "Well done! Hopefully you won't need a change until we get home. I'm not sure you'd fit on the changing table here anyway," Rosie announced loudly, making sure her words resonated well beyond their immediate vicinity. Alison, the puppeteer of this intricate dance of humiliation, feigned ignorance of the unfolding scene. With an affectation of casual interest, she scrutinized the labels on various jars of baby powder, her actions a tacit go-ahead for her daughters to continue their treatment of her step-son. Mikey felt like crawling into one of the empty shelves and disappearing. Now, not only did the entire aisle know about his nappy, but they also knew it was still 'clean and dry'', which implied that he commonly wet his nappy like a baby. The layers of his humiliation seemed to be stacking up by the minute, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. Mikey's mind raced, desperately seeking an escape from this nightmare. He was acutely aware that any act of rebellion on his part would likely result in even graver consequences. Yet, if he remained silent, they would persist in treating him this way. Trapped in this lose-lose scenario, and without money, a car, or a place to live, Mikey could not think of any viable way to escape his current predicament, rendering him powerless and voiceless. His sisters looked at him closely, amusement flickering in their eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the power dynamics at play. Mikey's tried to glance away from the smirks of his sisters, but ended up inadvertently locking eyes with a young mother nearby. She was browsing toys with her own children, a picture of everyday normalcy. Her eyes traveled from Mikey's face to his sisters, a mingling of curiosity and judgment colouring her features. She seemed to pause, as if sizing up the abnormal swell under Mikey's shorts. His heart plummeted, crushed under the weight of her scrutinizing gaze. His mind buzzed with the silent questions he imagined filling her head. What kind of young man wears a diaper? Why does he look so infantile? The urge to vanish surged within him, yet there he stood, an unwilling actor in this demeaning tableau. Disconcerted, the young mother steered her children away, her gaze lingering a final accusatory moment on Mikey before turning a corner. The bottom seemed to fall out of Mikey's already low spirits; he felt laid bare, fragile, a plaything in the cruel game orchestrated by his family. Unfortunately for Mikey, his humiliation was not over just yet. Katie and Lucy exchanged glances, their eyes glimmering with a wicked spark. With a sly grin, Katie picked up a jar of baby food and waved it teasingly in front of Mikey. "Hey, Mom, maybe we should get some of this for Mikey, just in case he misbehaves again," she suggested, barely containing her laughter. Lucy chimed in, her voice laced with mischief. "Yeah, it could be his special treat, if he's naughty. Baby food for the baby of the family." Mikey's heart sank as he pleaded silently with his mother, hoping she would dismiss their latest attempt to humiliate him. But to his horror, Alison seemed to embrace the idea, her smile widening. "You know what, girls? That's a brilliant idea," Alison said, her voice filled with faux enthusiasm. "Let's grab a few jars of baby food for Mikey." She then looked at the poor boy who was looking down the ground, "It'll be a good reminder for you not to behave like a baby, won't it Mikey?" Mikey didn't respond, choosing to try and pretend this wasn't happening to him. "Won't it Mikey?" Alison repeated her question, this time clearly reiterating that she expected agreement from her step son. Wanting to avoid making a scene and ending up with the dummy in his mouth, Mikey reluctantly replied with a simple "Yes." "What's your favourite flavour Mikey? How about apple, carrots and parsnips? Or pears, broccoli and apple? Or maybe even beef stew?" Katie asked, knowing full well that her step brother wanted none of these options. Resigned to his fate, Mikey just replied "Any of them sound fine." He couldn't believe that he was stood in public, in a busy supermarket wearing a nappy, with a dummy around tied to his sheet, responding that he was happy with the baby food choices being suggested by his sister. What had happened to him? The reality of his regression and the loss of his independence loomed before him, a dark cloud that threatened to engulf his very identity. He had lost any fight. He was coming to accept that there was no point arguing with these crazy women. The girls picked up several jars of baby food and placed them into the basket, as they headed towards the checkout. With a mix of trepidation and relief that his nightmare was nearly over, Mikey followed closely behind Alison but became distracted by something in the distance. Realizing Mikey had come to a standstill, Alison and his sisters turned back to find him frozen like a deer in headlights. "Mikey, we can't afford to lose you," Alison admonished, a tinge of irritation coloring her words. She gestured to Lucy, as if giving an unspoken command. Obediently, Lucy reached out and grasped Mikey's hand, a seemingly innocent act that only amplified his degradation. Tightly holding onto his hand, Lucy guided him toward the cashier. As they approached, the woman behind the register eyed Mikey with a mix of curiosity and skepticism. Her gaze briefly dropped to his midsection, as if piecing together that the baby items in the cart might actually be for him. Lucy seemed to sense the cashier's silent speculation and, with devilish timing, exclaimed, "Just wait here, Mikey, while Mum pays for all your bits and bobs." Mikey felt like a balloon deflating, his self-respect vanishing into thin air. He wondered how this situation could get any worse but the increasing pressure in his bladder indicated it could.... And then just when he thought he had plunged to the lowest point of his shame, he turned his head slightly. A familiar voice, tinged with the casualness of everyday conversation, echoed in his ears. "Hello," they said, making Mikey's heart skip a beat.

If you enjoy my writing then please consider subscribing to my Patreon to read Chapter 27 and 28 with Chapter 29 due to be posted shortly. You will get access to early releases of all of my stories, exclusive stories and posts and it will help me continue to keep writing. I really appreciate your support. Thank you www.patreon.com/BacktoBabyhood Chapter 26 The car moved smoothly along the city roads, its interior animated by the subdued chatter and sporadic laughter of Audrey and Louis. Will sat in the backseat, nervously tapping his foot on the floor mat. The pressure in his lower abdomen was escalating, each minute amplifying his urge to pee and deal with another, even more pressing bodily need. His mind raced with worry; could he hold on until they reached the restaurant, and even if he did, then what? As the car pulled up to the restaurant's elegant entrance, Will took a deep breath to steel himself. He felt trapped by his own body's needs, already on edge before the evening had even truly begun. The restaurant was aglow with warm lighting as the family stepped inside, their arrival accompanied by the gentle hum of conversations and the clinking of glasses. Will's heart raced with a mix of anticipation and anxiety as he entered, keenly aware of the nappy securely wrapped around him. He hesitated for a moment, his eyes quickly scanning the room to gauge the reactions of the other guests. As he walked further into the restaurant, he offered polite nods and smiles, his nervousness hiding behind a facade of congeniality. His eyes met those of the other diners, and he couldn't shake the feeling that they were all looking at him, judging him, scrutinizing his every move. Finally reaching their reserved table, he took a deep breath and slipped into his seat, the soft cushion offering a small semblance of comfort. The restaurant's ambiance was both inviting and intimidating, the elegant decor and refined atmosphere a stark contrast to the casual nature of their own home. Will felt like an imposter, out of place amidst the sophisticated surroundings. As he sat down, his need to use the bathroom intensified. Will felt like a man on trial. The pressure in his lower abdomen was his personal prosecutor, building a relentless case against him. The sentence? A soiled nappy and public humiliation. He fidgeted in his seat, mentally juggling the need to semi-focus on the conversation he barely understood, and the urge to disregard his escalating discomfort. Conversation flowed around the table as the family exchanged pleasantries with the other guests. There was 16 spots at the table, many of which remained empty, hinting that there were more people to arrive. There was also a highchair setup, indicating that one of the families would be bringing a baby. Will contributed to the conversation when necessary and to the limited extent that he could, but his mind preoccupied with the battle he was waging within himself. The need to pee and the urgency of another bodily function were both relentless, demanding his attention and making it increasingly difficult to focus on anything else. He squirmed in his seat, his face flushing as he fought to suppress his needs. He couldn't believe that he was in such a situation – surrounded by these smart people who he didn't know, trapped in a nappy, and struggling to maintain control over his own body. The irony was not lost on him, that in this elegant setting, he was dealing with something so basic and primal. As the minutes ticked by, his resolve began to waver. He glanced around the table, hoping that no one could sense his internal struggle. His efforts to maintain composure were reaching a breaking point. With a mix of resignation and desperation, and in the hope that it would relieve the pressure coming from his bowels, he subtly shifted his weight and allowed urine to escape into his nappy. The damp feeling in his groin area was a stark reminder that he couldn't use the toilet like other boys his age; he was now relegated to using a nappy like a baby. For a brief instant, Will relished the partial relief as his bladder emptied enough to restore a semblance of comfort, though not completely. However, the need to defecate still loomed large, an insistent discomfort he couldn't ignore. Caught in a mental tug-of-war, Will grappled with the shame of his predicament and the practicality of addressing his remaining physical discomfort. Then, as if scripted by some malevolent playwright, a sudden disruption shook his world. Just moments after he has given in to the need to wet his diaper, the restaurant doors burst open. A wave of air entered, and Will's eyes widened in disbelief when he saw who had entered — it was Phoebe, arriving with her host family. Time seemed to slow as their eyes met. Phoebe's expression was a mixture of surprise and recognition, and Will's heart sank as their gazes locked. He felt like a deer caught in headlights, frozen in the realization that she was again witnessing him at his most vulnerable. A soothing jazz tune flowed through the speakers, but the sweet notes couldn't chase away the turbulent symphony that roared inside him. Her eyes sparkled like diamonds under the candlelight, a vision that seemed to eclipse the elegance around her. He wanted to be the man of her dreams, but how could he when his own reality felt more like a nightmare? Will felt torn. The empty seat beside him seemed to beckon for Phoebe to sit, something he deeply wished for. Yet, the idea of conversing with her, let alone revealing his recent regression to wearing nappies, filled him with dread. While Phoebe's host family and Will's family engaged in polite conversation, Will fought to keep his poise. He was painfully conscious of his wet nappy, its weight feeling more pronounced than before. Fidgeting in his seat, he tried to find a position that would lessen his discomfort, all the while striving to conceal the noticeable swelling in his lower region. As the conversation continued, Phoebe's warm smile and acknowledging nod offered Will scant relief from his self-consciousness. He mustered a tense smile back, a feeble effort to seem composed during the awkward moment. As Phoebe engaged effortlessly in a spirited conversation, seamlessly transitioning between French sentences, her fluency only highlighted Will's linguistic inadequacies. Restricted to rudimentary phrases and sat wearing a wet nappy like a toddler, he increasingly felt vulnerable and worthless. While Phoebe was clearly engrossed in the animated dialogue around her, Audrey's attention began to shift. Casting a glance in Will's direction, she caught sight of his anxious expression. Realizing something was amiss, she disengaged from the ongoing conversation. With a look of determination, she started maneuvering her way toward him. As Will caught sight of Audrey making her way toward him, a gasp escaped his lips. His heart began to race; he knew that her approach could only make a bad situation worse. With the clean nappy he'd been put into less than an hour ago now wet, the prospect of her uncovering this fact filled him with dread. Audrey first made a beeline for Karim, leaning in close to whisper something confidential in his ear. A hushed exchange followed, with Karim's head briefly shaking in the negative. Whatever Audrey had suggested, Karim had been clear to confirm 'no' to his mother. Unperturbed, Audrey resumed her mission, closing in on Will like a hawk closing in on its prey. As she neared Will, the tension in his chest tightened. His heart pounded against his ribs, a frantic rhythm accompanying his growing embarrassment. Phoebe, still engrossed in her conversation with Louis, couldn't help but steal a glimpse of the unfolding drama but quickly redirected her attention to her companion. Audrey's next actions showed a complete disregard for preserving Will's dignity. She signalled for Will to stand up and then with a casualness that sent shivers down his spine, she tugged down the front of his bottoms, exposing his nappy in full view of everyone in the restaurant. It was as if she had pulled back a curtain, revealing his most vulnerable secret to the world. Audrey's fingers pressed against the front of his nappy, confirming its undeniable wetness. The sensation was mortifying, as if she were proclaiming his lack of control to the entire restaurant. She didn't stop there, though. Her hand ventured further, pressing against the seat of the nappy as if searching for something more. Will's mind raced with disbelief and humiliation. Around the table, the faces of the guests told a story of their own. Some wore amused smiles, finding entertainment in the unexpected turn of events. Others displayed visible signs of revulsion, their expressions making it clear that they found Will's predicament repulsive. Meanwhile, a few children, perhaps too young to fully comprehend the situation, burst into laughter, seeing a grown-up in such a childlike state. Will, caught in the spotlight of Audrey's scrutiny and the reactions of those around him, felt smaller than ever. Will found himself grappling with a growing sense of bewilderment. "Couldn't she have approached this situation with more tact?" he mused silently, his face aflame with an acute embarrassment that seemed to deepen with each passing moment. Audrey's actions weren't merely an acknowledgment of a potentially wet nappy; they insinuated a deeper concern— a suspicion of a soiled one. This left Will in an unsettling state of self-doubt. He also couldn't shake the nagging question: why had Audrey chosen to scrutinize him in such a public manner? He meticulously revisited the evening, trying to pinpoint any subtle signs or cues he might have unwittingly given off. Until now, there had been no reason to suspect anything beyond a wet nappy. The thought that Audrey might regard him as incapable of managing even basic bodily functions felt like an indelible stain on his pride. Will was however starkly aware that, unless he gained access to a toilet soon, he might well have to confront the discomfiting reality of a messy nappy. Without uttering a word, Audrey took Will's hand and led him toward her seat. Her actions and handling of the situation had only fueled his anxiety about the precarious state of his control, now leaving him with a gnawing uncertainty that persisted throughout his walk of shame. Approaching her own seat, Audrey extended her hand towards a nearby changing bag. Her actions were deliberate and unapologetic. She unzipped the bag and began to pull out various items, one by one, with no regard for Will's dignity or privacy. Each item was displayed prominently for all to see. First, she extracted a fresh nappy, holding it up as if showcasing it to the entire restaurant. Its unmistakable crinkly texture and unmistakably infantile appearance left little room for interpretation regarding its intended purpose. The disposable bag followed, a clear indicator of the intention to dispose of the soiled nappy. Next came a package of wipes, their baby powder scent wafting through the air as she unfurled them with an almost exaggerated slowness. She let the wipes dangle from her fingers for a moment, emphasizing their presence. Finally, she revealed a small bottle of baby powder. With a theatrical flourish, she held it high, the fine white powder visible to all. It was as though Audrey had a deliberate intention to broadcast to the world that she was about to embark on the task of changing Will's nappy, with an apparent disregard for anyone who might bear witness. The motive behind her brazen behaviour remained unclear —either she genuinely considered this act entirely ordinary, treating Will as if he were just like any other young child requiring a nappy change, or perhaps she aimed to emphasize the normalization of his situation, regardless of the stares and hushed murmurs that filled the room. Or, could it be that Audrey derived a certain satisfaction from humiliating Will and treating him like a baby? Audrey led Will down the room, her steps purposeful, each movement calculated to draw maximum attention. The babyish items she carried were on full display, leaving no doubt as to their destination. The onlookers couldn't help but gawk at the spectacle – a young man being led away with all the accouterments of a nappy change laid bare for all to witness. Laughter and amusement rippled through the room as Will walked alongside Audrey, who appeared unfazed by the circumstances, while Will, head bowed, felt the weight of humiliation and vulnerability pressing upon him. As Will embarked on the final leg of his walk of humiliation, even the waitstaff, previously bustling with drink orders and food service, came to a sudden standstill, struck by the astonishing sight unfolding before them. It was as though the entire restaurant had collectively paused to witness this unexpected spectacle of Will's journey to have his nappy changed. Phoebe, having witnessed the entire ordeal, felt a mix of shock and, surprisingly, a hint of intrigue. The scene she had just observed was unsettling, yet oddly compelling in a way she couldn't quite understand.

Thank you for all of the comments and feedback. Delighted to hear that you're all enjoying the story. For those interested in getting ahead of the story and supporting my writing, Chapter 12 is now live on my Patreon with Chapter 13 due to be posted today. Thanks

Thank you for all of the comments and feedback. Always love hearing what you think. Alison is certainly the master manipulator and knows how to play with Mikey's emotions. For those interested in getting ahead of the story and supporting my writing, Chapter 18 is now live on my Patreon with Chapter 19 due shortly. Thanks