BARGAIN
BY
BabyStevie26
Here's a question to end all questions. Which would you consider worse? The fact that I was currently lying in a giant crib in a wet diaper at six in the morning; or the fact that I am quite possibly far better off here than where I was not even a full month ago?
How is either choice even possible, you may ask? Well it's easy. My parents were scum of the earth. Simple as that. They never really wanted me, and said as much on every occasion they could legitimately think to say so. And even did so for absolutely no reason whatsoever. They weren't abusive. Not in the physical sense, anyway. However, from the moment I could walk I was more a servant than a daughter. Something had to be done, it was my job. House a mess? Call Cady. Grocery shopping need doing? Call Cady. Mom and dad get drunk and vomit all over something they shouldn't have? Call Cady.
That was my life. My only refuge was school, which I threw myself into as much as I could. Extracurricular activities, a sport or two, causing a bit of trouble to once in a while land in detention, but not too often that the faculty would feel obliged to call home. Anything to keep me from having to go home for as long as possible. As soon as I was old enough, I got myself a part-time job flipping burgers to earn money. The logic was that I could build up the cash to eventually leave the folks' house and get out there solo. I hadn't thought far enough ahead to consider college or more work or what. At that moment my top priority was simply "get the hell out of that house."
I kept the job all through high school and made it full time after graduation. It was shortly after graduation, a month and a half ago, in fact, that I had finally decided I had enough to leave. I would have been fine, were it not for one major problem. Actually, make that two major problems.
With my folks being what they were, I was, of course, smart enough not to keep my money hidden inside our apartment. I opened a savings account and kept it there with only a small emergency fund of cash kept in my locker at work. I was a minor at the time and needed parental permission for the account. Fortunately I had managed to slip the proper forms to them using the old trick of having them think they were signing a permission slip (they never paid attention, so it wasn't difficult). However, I made the mistake of underestimating them. One night they had come across my purse and rifled through it, seeking a few extra booze bucks stumbled upon my debit card.
It's no great feat to guess what happened next. Next time I check my account, what should it say except zero dollars and zero cents. They took me for everything I had, which was actually quite a bit. It was mostly my own damn fault, though. Because I had never had my account updated after turning eighteen, they had full access. All they had to do was go to the bank and there it was, enough money to keep them drunk for a solid week. When I confronted them, they didn't even attempt to deny it.
Finally fed up, I put in my two weeks' notice and, when it ran up, took my emergency fund as well as the money I had earned in the two weeks, and just high-tailed it out of that town. I didn't even go home that day after work. I took nothing with me except the money in my purse and the clothes on my back. I don't know how long it took them to realize I was gone and I didn't really care at the time.
In hindsight, I probably should've gone home at least for some extra clothes.
Regardless, that's how I eventually wound up at their house. Well... more accurately, and sadly, their dumpster. I had been out on the streets on my own for three weeks, and I was near starving. I had stretched out my emergency fund as long as I could while I job hunted. However, the basic necessities, such as food, clothing and shelter (in the form of fast food, second-hand stuff, and a beat-up Bates motel wanna-be) added up. By that time, who wouldn't be looking wherever they could for whatever they could get.
He had come out first. He wasn't armed or anything, he'd later tell me he thought I was a raccoon and that he'd planned to just shoo me away. But as soon as he saw I wasn't a raccoon he called out to another person, who I later learned was his wife. My instinct was to bolt and get the hell out of there before they called the police or something. But when they offered a hot meal I couldn't refuse. I didn't know it then, but going into that house would change my life forever.
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At first, I didn't care about anything except chowing down on the food that was offered. The whole "don't take food from strangers" rule adults that actually weren't my parents had hammered into me growing up was completely gone from my mind. It wasn't until after I'd eaten that I began to wonder if eating the food was a good idea. But nothing felt wrong, so I guess I was okay. I sincerely thanked the couple and got up to leave when they pushed me back into the chair. They insisted I at least stay the night.
"No, I couldn't possibly impose any more." I insisted. I was worrying just a little now. But, as nobody had made any overtly hostile movement, I tried not to let it show.
"You don't have a home, do you?" the man asked. He sounded as though he already knew the answer.
"Um... no..." I said, blushing and suddenly admiring the floor.
"Or money?" the woman asked.
"Nope." I answered. I noticed the couple share an odd look and nod to one another.
"What's your name, dear?" the man asked.
"Cady." I replied.
"Cady, we have a proposal for you. If you follow through, it might solve both your problems, and ours."
"Yours?" I wondered.
"Yes, we need some help concerning our son." the woman told me.
"Whoa!" I said, suddenly sensing where this is headed, "I'm not marrying anybody or anything like that!"
The two looked a bit surprised, but they kept their cool.
"That isn't what we need from you." the man explained.
"Though you might have the same reaction when we tell you what we do want." the woman warned.
That was ominous. Despite that, I was curious. I agreed to at least hear them out.
"We and our son have been estranged for just over two years now." the man began, "The reason for this is that we had a hard time accepting something he told us back then."
"He had a very, um, unusual hobby." said the woman, "He'd done a good job of keeping it secret. We honestly never suspected a thing while he lived with us. One day, for some reason, he decided to stop keeping the secret. He sat us down, and told us what it was he was keeping."
"We didn't take it very well at all." The man continued, "We called him all sorts of horrible things. Freak being the least of it."
"Ouch..." I blurted out, "What possessed you to act that way? Granted, I just met you, but you seem nice enough people."
"Yes, well, we'd always had high expectations of our boy." the woman said, "That might have been part of what caused it."
"Caused what exactly? Was he gay or something?" I asked. I have a curious nature, and all this skirting the issue was whetting it nicely.
"If only..." the lady muttered, "Perhaps its best if we just show you."
With that the two led me to a room in the house's upstairs. The opened the door and led me inside. I was shocked silent when he turned on the light and I got a good look inside. My mouth hung open as I stared at the sight.
Inside the soft-carpeted room, next to pastel blue wall straight accross from her, was a baby's crib bigger than any I'd ever seen. To my left, up against the wall there was a large desk. Though it unusually low to the floor and lacked any space to put a chair under and instead was lined with shelves containing...
"Woah..." I muttered as I saw what was stored in what I now knew was no desk.
It was lined with diapers, both cloth and disposable. Adult sized diapers, both cloth and disposables. I also saw, for the cloth diapers, large plastic pants. It was an adult-sized changing table! In a corner between the table and the crib was a normal sized rocking chair with what looked like a baby bottle warmer on the nightstand next to it. In a nearby electric socket there was a nightlight in one and a child-proof socket cover in the other. On the third wall I saw a good sized toy chest as well as other playthings scattered around it. Every single one of them was clearly intended for a very small child.
I was stunned, to say the least. Surprisingly, only one question really stuck out in my mind.
"How in the hell did he keep this a secret?!"
"He didn't." the father answered, "Everything here is our doing. We had it custom built and modeled his old bedroom into a nursery."
"But... why?"
"He's an adult baby." the mother answered, "A grown man who enjoys acting and being treated like a baby."
Wow. I'd heard of some odd stuff, but this definitely took the cake. to think that somebody would live in a room like this willingly. By choice, even! With a sudden sinking of my gut, I had a thought about what this couple wanted from me.
"Just how to do you expect me to help you with your problem?"
"Well," the father replied, "We've tried for the past two years to understand this... liking of his. This room was part of that. We tried diapers ourselves, but we just couldn't get what he enjoyed about it."
I was suddenly hit with the image of these two middle-aged folk running around diapered. Weird, but almost cute.
"What we hope you can help us with," the mother continued, "is to try and understand what we cannot."
"You mean, you want me to wear diapers?"
They nodded.
"And act like a baby?"
They nodded.
"And be treated like a baby?"
They nodded.
"Wouldn't it make more sense to talk to someone who already likes this stuff?"
They shook their heads. The mother answered.
"We considered it. Talking to another adult baby after we so cruelly disowned our own son, it felt like a betrayal. We couldn't bring ourselves to do it. Instead, we came up with another idea. Have someone who had no interest beforehand to live as an adult baby. If they liked it, maybe they could understand just what it was he loved. Once we can understand that, maybe we can really reconcile with our baby."
"Cady," the father said, "if you agree to this, you will become a baby of this household for approximately one month. We will be Mommy and Daddy, and you will be considered a child no older than three years of age. In exchange for this, we will be forever in your debt. We'll gladly provide you with a good sum of money that should allow you to start a life in just any place you wish. Cady, are you willing?"
Was I willing?! I think the better question was "Am I so desperate for a little food, clothing, and shelter (in the form of toddler meals, diapers, and a nursery) that I would actually agree to two total strangers' request to relive my toddler-hood?"
Aw, who was I kidding?
"I am!" I proclaimed.
Mommy and Daddy looked at one another and smiled.
CHAPTER TWO:
Taste of the Good Life
So, here I am, now officially a nineteen-year-old girl going on three. I have just agreed to the request of two people to try to understand their infantilist son by undergoing a month's worth of full-time baby treatment. Mommy and Daddy (as I am expected to call them now) started immediately. As soon as I said I agreed, they got going. My new Mommy led me to the bathroom and began undressing me as soon as we got in. Daddy walked in moments later with a adult disposable diaper and a dark red T-shirt. Mommy apologized ahead of time, as all the stuff they had was for a boy I'd have to make due for a brief time until some girl's clothes could be ordered for me. Mommy pulled off my ratty second-hand T-shirt and undid the bra. I covered my chest a bit and gestured nervously at my new daddy.
"He'll be taking care of you just as much as I will." Mommy explained as sat me on the bathroom floor and started untying my shoes, "I'm not fond of it, myself. But it's best the both of you get used to this kind of situation so neither of you will be embarrassed by it."
I couldn't help but notice then that he was blushing beet red at the sight of me. Trying not to look but at the same time not quite resisting. Mommy had a point, so I didn't fight when she pushed my arms away from my chest and lay them at my side. After my shoes and socks were off, she had me lift up so she could get to my pants and underwear. This is when I really began to blush. Not just from being completely nude in front of two people I'd just met. I'd been in the same clothes for a few days now, that included the panties. Embarrassing, but at least nobody commented on it. After the days-old panties were removed I noticed the sound of running water. Daddy had begun running a bath while Mommy undressed me.
They helped me into the tub and began to bathe me, just as if I were a baby. Daddy put in some bath toys and bubbles while Mommy started washing me. Being on the streets for a while, I was a bit of a mess all around. The bath felt wonderful. The fact that other people were handling the scrubbing and cleaning only made it easier to relax for the first time since I got kicked out of the motel.
"It feels like I'm at a spa..." I murmured as they worked. I thought I heard my new parents giggle, but I didn't care. Not about anything. Not at that time. I just laid back and let them do their thing. Eventually Mommy had me sit up so she could wash my hair. I snapped back to reality a bit her hands got caught in the mass of uncombed tangles my short head of hair had become. Daddy took advantage to start explaining some of the house rules to me.
"Cady, as I said before, we will treat you no differently than we would any child of your, well, age."
I nodded, remembering that, from this day on, I wasn't even three years old.
"Most of the rules we'll just learn as we go. The basics though, Mommy and I have already figured out.
"First and foremost, you will be diapered all day, every day. You will also be expected to use your diapers, with one exception. Mommy and I aren't all too thrilled at the idea of dealing with an adult's dirty diapers. And I'm sure you're not too keen on making them dirty."
"Not re-ow!" I said as Mommy continued to wash my hair and caught a tangle.
"We didn't think so." Daddy said as Mommy apologized, "So, while you're at home, you can use the toilet for that purpose. But you are only allowed to use the home toilet. If we are anywhere besides the house you're stuck with your diapers for whatever you need to do."
I wasn't too sure I liked the sound of that. Mostly because, the way my luck often turned, I would almost certainly end up in exactly such a situation. I didn't look forward to having to hold it in for who knew how long. I looked forward even less to the possibility of having to soil myself in public. I nodded my understanding though. If those were the rules, then those were the rules, and I wasn't in much of a position to tell them to shove it.
"Finally, just in case you get the idea that you can trick us into letting you use the toilet instead of your diapers, if Mommy or I put you on the potty and you don't have a bowel movement, then you'll be forbidden from using the toilet for the next twenty-four hours. Is this first rule understood?"
I nodded. Simple enough, gotta pee in my diapers, can poop in the toilet, but only when at home. So as to not abuse that privilege, if I got on the pot and didn't go then I was stuck messing myself later.
Daddy moved onto clothing next. When at home, I would be dressed exactly as a baby. Mommy started to go on about some of the cute girl outfits she'd seen while researching their son's baby clothes that they could get her. When she finished Daddy continued, saying that for the first few days, to help everyone adjust to the new situation a bit, I would wear only a diaper and a T-shirt (he held up the two items for emphasis). I assumed he was thinking of the "We gotta see it so we gotta get used to it" thing Mommy mentioned when me and Daddy got embarrassed earlier.
For trips outside the house, adult clothes would be available, but they would still be somewhat childish in appearance. Cloth diapers or thin disposables would also be used for the sake of being discreet. I found it good to know at least they weren't going to make a point of humiliating me in public. He ended it by saying that all clothes I would wear would be decided by himself or by Mommy. As a baby, I had no say in the matter. If I didn't like it, Daddy said, I could just simply not wear anything.
Despite sitting in a bathtub being washed by other people, I maintained just enough modesty to find that a suitable threat.
Next up on the rule list was behavior. To put it simply, I was supposed to act like a baby. To put it into detail, I was to speak as little as possible. If I did have to speak, I was to make myself sound as childish as possible. I could roam the house freely for the most part, except that Mommy and Daddy would put up baby gates at doors to rooms I wasn't allowed in. Obviously, baby gates would do little to stop a girl who was just shy of five and a half feet, but it was more for boundary marking than anything.
Punishment for misbehavior consisted mainly of a following of the idea that "if you can't obey by choice, that choice gets taken away." If I spoke out of turn or back-talked, I'd have a pacifier stuck in my mouth and strapped on so I couldn't remove it. If I were caught somewhere I wasn't supposed to be, I'd be confined to my room and/or my room's corner. And so on and so on.
As all this made its way into my head, Mommy finished washing me and began to drain the tub. While I was being toweled off Daddy (currently blushing about as much as I was) asked if those basic rules would be acceptable.
"Sure, I guess." I replied. Nothing there sounded outrageous. It was almost a walk in the park, so long as I behaved as expected.
"Good." Daddy said, "In that case, we'll go over the financial details in the morning. For now, let's get you ready for bed."
I was about to complain it wasn't very late. Then figured, if I was a baby, I had a baby's bedtime. So I didn't resist when Mommy laid me down on the bathroom floor. She put a bundled up towel to pillow my head so it didn't sit on the linoleum. She took the disposable diaper Daddy had brought in and unfolded it. As she had me lift my bottom so she could put it on I knew this was it. For the next month this (diapering, wiping, powdering) would be a regular occurrence. I started to have second thoughts as Mommy helped me sit up and started putting on the red T-shirt.
They faded fast, though, as I decided to wait and hear about the "financial details" before I made any final decisions about committing to this or backing out. It'd give me a chance to get used to wearing diapers a bit as well as get an idea of what kind of treatment I could expect from this very unusual arrangement.
I was taken back to the nursery, there was a noticeable bit of extra noise when I moved now, courtesy the plastic on my diaper. It was somewhat thick too, I wasn't waddling or anything, but my legs were just a little further apart than I was used to. Mommy led me to the nursery and told me to wait there a moment while they got me something for bed. While they were gone, I happened to catch sight of myself in a mirror that was right next to the door.
Aside from the diaper just ever-so-slightly peeking out below the hem of my T-shirt, I looked about as normal as I ever did. Brown hair, blue eyes, medium height, slightly less-than-average build. Actually, on second look, I appeared to be better than normal. Probably because I'd just gotten out of a relaxing warm bath and that it had been my first for a few days. My light brown hair, which went down to just past my shoulders, was clean for the first time in a while and almost seemed to shine. It smelled too, seeing as Mommy had used some baby shampoo that was scented. But it was a nice smell. One I could get used to very quickly.
Mommy and Daddy came back into the room after little more than a minute. In Mommy's hand was a slightly larger-than-normal baby bottle. The nipple was bigger too, better suited to an adult's mouth than a typical baby bottle nipple. I watched as Daddy let down the bars on the crib so I could climb into it. He put them back up right away and Mommy handed me the bottle through the bars. She asked if I wanted a story. When I replied no, she just gave me a kiss on the forehead and wished me a good night.
I laid there in the near dark (lit up slightly by a night light) and looked at the bottle. I couldn't remember the last time I'd gone to sleep with a ba-ba. Curiosity getting the better of me, I tentatively tried sucking on the nipple. Inside the bottle was warm milk, which tasted quite good, really. I don't remember how long I drank for, but I know that, before I was midway through the bottle, the warm milk had taken effect and I was out cold for the remainder of the night.
CHAPTER THREE:
First Morning
What time it was when I woke up I had no clue. All I knew was there was
sunlight coming in from a window next to the crib. Even worse, it was
shining right in my face. Can't sleep with that happening. So I woke up with
no clue what time it was, knowing only that there was sunlight in my face.
I sat up and was momentarily confused by my surroundings. Hardly surprising,
a huge crib is not the most usual place to wake up after a peaceful night's
sleep. It was peaceful too, the best sleep I'd had in a while. The moment of
confusion quickly passed as I remembered the previous night. I saw the
bottle I'd been drinking beside me and picked it up. The milk was hardly
drinkable now and I wasn't even going to consider trying. I made a mental
note to ask for water next time. Then I'd have something to drink when I
woke up.
I sat around the crib and looked at the stuffed animals. Out of boredom I
picked one up and started making it dance around cutely. I even hummed a
little tune as I did. This occupied me until my body gave me signals for
those little things you have to do first thing in the morning. I knew this
was coming, but I hadn't completely readied myself for it (It may not be
noticeable, but foresight isn't my greatest strength). It took a little
mental preparation to even make myself start having to go. It helped when I
got myself hunched over in a bit of a squat position.
The flow came out little by little. Years of toilet training did not break
easy, after all. After a while of on-again off-again it started to come out
more easily. Soon I had my diaper good and flooded. I could feel it just
sagging from my hips as I sat there hunched over. I realized when I sat down
that I had over-done it, though. As soon as my butt hit the mattress I felt
something wet come into contact with my leg. Looking down, the diaper had
leaked onto the crib mattress and blankets. I was more than just a little
embarrassed. I not only had just wet myself for the first time in over a
decade but I really wet myself.
I began to cry a bit. I'm not completely sure but I think I began sobbing
too because not long after I started Mommy walked in looking very concerned.
"Hey, there, Cady, what's wrong?" She asked as she reached through the crib
bars and brushed her hand across my cheek. I could only point to my leaking
diaper with a very big blush all across my face. Mommy didn't seem the least
bit surprised or angry though.
"Flooded it all at once, didn't you?" she asked. I nodded, slightly
surprised she knew that.
"Daddy and I experimented with this first before deciding on getting a third
party to try it." she explained, noticing my surprise, "We learned that it's
usually best to wet just a little at a time. Do it all at once and, well..."
she looked down at the wet spot under my butt, "We'll make sure to use
thicker diapers at nighttime from now on, just in case, so this is less
likely to happen again."
With that, Mommy opened the crib so I could get out. Unlike a true baby
crib, where the bars would be slid down for the parent to lift out their
child, this one was set up for the bars to slide up and hook into locking
points on the ceiling. From there, Mommy kneeled down to help me out. It was
hard, I was moving very slow as I didn't want my diaper leaking even more
than it had. I walked over to the changing table and, with Mommy's help,
managed to lay down carefully enough that nothing else came out of my pants
and soak the table too.
I had to admit, having my diaper removed was quite a bit more embarrassing
than it was having it put on. I blushed a bit as Mommy opened up the wet
diaper and got to work. She gave me a reassuring smile as she began to wipe
me down. My face became redder as I felt the cold baby wipe cleaning up my
most private areas. After what felt like forever Mommy finished and
re-diapered me after a rather liberal sprinkling of baby powder onto my
body. When that was finished, she helped me up to my feet and smiled. I
smiled back, my face nearly entirely red.
Without a word, Mommy took my hand and led me out into the dining room.
There I saw that, during the night, Mommy and Daddy had put up a high chair.
Not surprisingly, it was huge. Big enough for an adult to sit in with
minimal discomfort. Mommy helped me into it. After strapping me in I saw her
put a huge tray in place. By that point I was waiting for the bib but it
didn't come. Instead, Daddy put some papers down in front of me. I looked at
them for a moment before I realized what I was seeing.
"Power of attorney?!" I asked in surprise. I was further surprised when I
suddenly had a pacifier stuck in my mouth. Daddy, still holding it in his
hand as it rested in my mouth, pulled it out after a moment.
"That was just to remind you of the rules, Cady." he explained. I nodded
sheepishly and gave an embarrassed "Sowwy." in the most babyish voice I
could manage.
"However, right now we're giving you permission to speak like an adult. We
have important matters to discuss and we need you to be a grown up for a few
moments more before your new childhood begins."
"Okay." I replied.
Daddy went on to explain the necessity of the Power of Attorney and other
forms.
"This will allow us to put a sum of five thousand dollars into a savings
account in your name."
My mouth dropped. Five thousand?! Granted, it wouldn't make me rich (not
like these people obviously were). On the other hand, I'd be way better off
than I was twenty four hours ago. That was enough money to find a small
place to stay and get my act together.
"That money will build interest, so when your month is done the amount
should be slightly more than that."
Even if slightly was just another buck, I couldn't deny that was a good
deal.
"Obviously, the money is only yours if you last the full month."
Well duh! I knew better than to say out loud.
"You're free to end this at any time, but you don't get any payment unless
you follow through for a full thirty days."
"That's why there's a contract in here too, huh?" I asked, holding up
another paper.
"Exactly."
So I looked over the forms. Most of it was just legalese versions of all the
stuff we'd talked about the previous night. I scanned it thoroughly, making
sure I wasn't getting into some weird(er) arrangement that I wasn't aware
of. The contract stated that I agreed to perform a specified service, which
was not specified on the form itself, for a total of thirty days. The power
of attorney put control of all the money I would be paid, as well as other
manners into the hands of Mommy and Daddy. I could only assume that they
wanted to make as sure as possible that I followed through on my end. And I
had to admit that knowing that money was sitting there for me to claim next
month made that high chair a lot more comfortable than it had been when I'd
first sat down.
After reading through and clarifying everything, I signed all the forms I
needed to sign then. There were a few that had to be done in front of a
Notary Public, but that would be held off for the weekend, Mommy told me. No
biggie, I was bound to the deal now so the last bits of paperwork were mere
formalities.
With the business taken care of, Mommy picked up a big bib and tied around
my neck. I immediately noticed the "Mommy's Big Boy" stitched into the front
of it.
"We'll get you one of your own soon enough, sweetie." Mommy said, noticing
me staring at it.
"'Kay." I told her as I looked at the upside-down words. Daddy brought over
a bowl of oatmeal, which Mommy began to spoon feed me. The bib wasn't too
necessary, though some of the food did spill out, as I wasn't used to being
spoon-fed. When all was the food was gone my face was wiped clean and I was
let out of the chair. My new parents scooted me off to the living room to
play.
I went in to find a blanket had been spread out and baby toys put onto it.
Logically figuring this was where I was going to play, I plopped myself down
and got to it. Took a while to get into, really. I had very few toys to play
with at all growing up. There were some dolls, but with Mommy and Daddy
close by, going about what I assumed was their regular routine, I felt
self-conscious about playing with them. I contented myself with some blocks
and other more simple toys. As I absent-mindedly stacked blocks and built
little buildings with them my bladder gave me that feeling that I had to go.
My self-consciousness increased several fold as I prepared to wet myself
again, this time in the presence of my Mommy and Daddy. Remembering Mommy's
advice earlier, I wet mostly with the on-again off-again I'd had the first
time but this time withheld from a full out flood. As I did my business, I
got a little something extra. As I peed, I let out a small bit of gas from
my other end. I blushed, as it wasn't exactly quiet, and also because I knew
what it meant.
"Mommy!" I called out. I must've sounded distressed, because she came in a
rush.
"Yes, Cady."
"Um... well..." I stammered, remembering my rules and trying to think of the
most babyish way to say what I had to do, God this was embarrassing...
"Gots go poo-poo!" I finally sputtered out. At that moment I think the
warmth from my blushing replaced the need for central heating...
Mommy took a moment to realize what I meant. I guess she was still getting
used to this, too.
"Okay, sweetie, let's get you to the potty."
Mommy took me by the hand and led me back to the bathroom I had been bathed
in the previous night. To my slight relief, there wasn't a baby potty to use
in here. Instead, Mommy took off my diaper (making me blush with a comment
about how wet it was already) and sat me down to do my thing. It was weird,
since Mommy didn't leave the bathroom while I went. I wasn't surprised
though, since I was supposed to be a baby.
Soon as I was done Mommy wiped me down and took me back to the nursery for a
new diaper. As she taped me up, Mommy mentioned that it was time for a nap.
"But we just had breakfast!" I complained. Mommy answered with a pacifier to
my mouth.
"That was a few hours ago, hon."
Were it not for the paci, I'd've exclaimed a loud what. As it was, I managed
to squeak out a "Mmph?!" Mommy pointed to a clock on the wall and I realized
that, indeed, I had been playing in the living room for a lot longer than
I'd realized. How in the world had I not noticed?
I didn't resist as Mommy put my into the crib once again and lowered the
bars from the ceiling. She removed the pacifier and handed me a bottle
before leaving the room, promising to come back in an hour or so. I wasn't
tired, so I simply sucked on the bottle a bit. The bottle had warm milk in
it again, presumably to help me actually nap. I wasn't very tired, to be
honest. My mind was still on the passage of time I'd missed.
There was only one explanation I could think of. They say "time flies when
you're having fun." I wondered if I'd been having more fun with those baby
toys than I'd realized. But that alone didn't seem to fit. As the milk did
its thing and I began gradually drifting off, I began to realize another
fact I hadn't noticed before now.
This was probably the very first day, in my entire life, where I hadn't had
to do a single damn thing. For as long as I could remember, every day before
now had been filled with work of some kind. Housework, schoolwork, money
work. I was usually fulfilling some responsibility or another before I'd
even had breakfast. Yet here it was near midday and the only responsibility
I'd had to really worry about was not pooping myself! And even then I didn't
actually have to! While obviously not thrilled with the idea, Mommy and
Daddy had said during breakfast I could use my diapers for everything if I
wished.
At that moment, I realized a very important fact. This morning was one of
the few, if not first times that the only thing I had to concern myself with
was what I wanted to do.
My bottle fell from my mouth and rolled into the railing as I fell into the
most pleasant sleep I'd had in a long time.
BARGAIN
BY
BabyStevie26
CHAPTER FOUR: B.Y.O.D.C.
The next week or so just flew by. With my little epiphany from the first
morning still on my mind, I'd begun to actually enjoy being a big baby. I
told Mommy and Daddy about what I'd come to understand and they seemed
happy. And why not? Their investment (me) was already getting results.
In the time since that first day, the three of us settled into a bit of a
routine. I'd wake up whenever I woke up, and as soon as I did Mommy or Daddy
would come in, change my diaper (which would be plenty wet by the time I got
around to calling them), then take me down for breakfast. From there, I'd
play until nap time. Somewhere in that area of time I'd have to poop, but I
always did that in the toilet. I had no wish to use my diapers for it if I
could avoid it.
After my nap, I'd play more and probably go run errands with Mommy such as
the store for dinner. Sometimes Mommy would let me help her make food. But
it was always easy tasks even a toddler (such as myself) could perform.
Every meal was in the high chair with a bib and featured me being fed my
food or eating just finger size bits. After dinner, my face would get
washed, and the rest of me if a bath was warranted. Then I was put into
jammies for bed (I'd grown particularly fond of a cute red sleeper) and set
down into my crib for the night.
Mommy and Daddy's personal routines were largely unaffected, save for
sometimes involving me. Daddy would do a lot of work in his study. I made a
mental note I knew I wouldn't remember to find out what he did for a living.
He had a nice home, and could afford to pay a girl five grand to spend a
month wetting herself. So he had to have something lucrative. Usually Mommy
handled most of my care, though if she wasn't around, Daddy would see to
checking and changing my diapers. I got used to it, but at first it was
weird having a man change my diapers. Even more so than it was having a
woman do it.
Mommy and Daddy did more than just feed me and keep my pants dry, though.
Sometimes Daddy would even sit down on the floor and play with me. By the
third day I'd gotten far into my role as big baby. I baby talked almost as
naturally as I adult spoke (which I rarely did nowadays). So baby play came
easily to me. I'd play little kid games like Candy Land and such, and
sometimes Daddy'd even do the ol' "This Little Piggy" song, running his
fingers up my leg and tickling me silly when he got to the last little piggy
going wee wee wee all the way home. Mommy would read me stories from various
kids' books. I was too big to sit on her lap, but often I'd lie on the couch
and rest just my head there instead.
There were a couple of punishments here and there. One day I refused to let
Daddy dress me in a really awful looking outfit, so he simply didn't bother
to dress me. I spent that whole day naked save my diaper and a bib at meals.
I think Daddy was as embarrassed as I was. Baby or not, I was still a
average-developed nineteen year old girl sitting around his home in just her
underwear (such as it was). It was obvious he was trying not to look at me
that way, but every time we locked eyes he blushed and turned away.
I didn't leave the house much, unless Mommy wanted to go to the store or
something and Daddy was still working. Then I was expected to tag along.
Outside of the house, I was dressed normally and was allowed to speak as an
adult. The only really babyish clothing on me outside the house was my
diaper, hidden under my clothes. To neighbors who saw me, I was just a
cousin or niece or whatever visiting for a month. To any who noticed and
asked about my diapers, they just got told I was incontinent and had no
bladder control. Ergo, diapers. A simple lie, but effective, as nobody
questioned it much after that.
On my eighth day at my new home, however, the usual routine took a turn.
At first, it was the usual. Wake up, wet my diaper, call for a change, then
breakfast. After breakfast was when it began. I had felt the urge to make a
poopy, and got myself put onto the pot. But nothing happened. I pushed and
tried but all that happened was a little bit of pee. Nobody was very happy
at that, as we all knew what it meant. The rule laid down on my very first
night stated that, if I don't make a poo-poo when I say I have to, even if
it isn't on purpose, then I'm barred from using the toilet again for the
next twenty-four hours. Meaning that if the need to poop came again before
this time tomorrow, I was stuck making a mess in my diaper. I didn't like
that, as a messy diaper was almost guaranteed (I knew I couldn't have
avoided it the whole month...). Mommy and Daddy didn't like it, either, as
it would likely be one of them who cleaned up the inevitable.
That put us in a funk for a while, until the mail came. Some packages had
come in. Mommy was happy upon seeing them. During the past week she'd taken
my measurements and clothes she had ordered using them had just come in.
That brought the two of us out of our apprehensive mood, as we began sifting
our way through the packages to try on what we could. Among them were cute
baby style dresses (some of which were WAY to ruffley for my taste, but
Mommy liked them). I tried a few of them and modeled them for Mommy and
Daddy until nap time, when Mommy put me in a new pink onesie for bed.
Upon waking up, I experienced my first diaper change involving Mommy having
to unsnap the onesie to get to me. When the job got finished, Mommy snapped
me back up before pulling out a pair of denim overalls. I groaned. I've
always hated overalls, ever since I was little. But I didn't feel like
spending the rest of the day naked (again), so I didn't resist as Mommy put
them on over my onesie. To the untrained eye, I was simply wearing a cute
pink t-shirt underneath. I thought that was all until Mommy began putting
socks and shoes on me.
"Go bye-bye?" I asked.
"Yes, sweetheart." Mommy replied, Daddy came into the nursery and explained
so Mommy could concentrate on my shoes. She was having trouble since I was
playfully kicking my feet to give her a hard time.
"Neighbors across the street are having a little block party. Everyone's
invited, including us.
"Yummy! Ba-ba-Kew!" I squealed. Part of me still cringed at how childish I
sounded when I spoke that way. But the other part, silly as it sounded,
actually enjoyed it. When I was ready Daddy played with me so Mommy could
finish getting ready. Then we were off.
I'd met some of the neighbors already, so my initial moments at the little
gathering were spent getting introduced to the people I hadn't seen yet. I
got along fairly well for the most part. One person happened to hear my
diaper crinkling, I think, but she didn't say anything. She did cast me a
few odd looks though.
The first hour was spent in good spirits. Nothing of particular importance
happened, save for getting a way overcooked burger... or maybe it was a lump
of charcoal someone accidentally put between two buns. Either way, it was
inedible. I wolfed down the edible burgers and was actually on my third when
it hit me. That feeling I had known was coming. That I had forgotten about
during my little fashion show. That I was doomed to suffer from until I
either home or couldn't take it anymore.
My bowels were cramping. I had to poop. And if I couldn't get home in time I
was going to make a messy diaper right in front of every person in
attendance.
BARGAIN
BY
BabyStevie26
CHAPTER FIVE: Convert
Okay... stay calm. I told myself, Nothing serious is happening. It's just a
bowel movement. You've held them in before. At school or work when you
couldn't leave right away. Or, better yet, at home while you waited for
Mommy and Daddy to put you on the pot. This is just like that. Don't panic.
Much as you act like it at home, you are not a baby.
As much as I repeated that mantra, though, it wasn't doing me much good. The
number two that hadn't come out on that morning's potty break was making
itself known now. I knew I wouldn't hold out very long. I considered looking
for Mommy or Daddy and making my problem known. Then I remembered they were
unlikely to take me to a toilet, seeing as I didn't use it for what I'd
intended to once today already. They'd tell me that was my punishment for
not using the potty when I'd said I'd had to.
I was still tempted, though. I mean, surely they wouldn't want to clean up
after a messy diaper? Then again, they were rather strict about the rules
placed on me. If I spoke as an adult, even accidentally, I got the pacifier
almost immediately. If I went somewhere I shouldn't I was immediately put
into the corner of my nursery for a time out. No, they'd never let me get
away with not using my diaper. The only thing that would come from telling
them would be their taking me home to do the deed.
I was resigned to alert Mommy and Daddy to my trouble and endure the
inevitable when an idea hit me. There was another option. Mommy and Daddy
were busy schmoozing. It would be a simple matter of saying nothing,
sneaking into the bathroom here, and going potty. If it went all right, no
one would be the wiser.
I looked around for Mommy and Daddy to make sure they were preoccupied.
Seeing that they were, I snuck into the house and began searching for the
bathroom. The house was two stories, meaning there had to be at least two
toilets around somewhere. Let's see... kitchen... living room... locked
door...
"Someone's in here!" I heard a man's voice call out from the other side.
Bathroom one found... and taken. I felt a cramp in my stomach, making me
check other rooms. The first floor had only the one, but upstairs I found
another quickly enough. But again...
"I'll be out in a second."
Hoping (foolishly) that a second actually meant a second, I waited for this
one. Several minutes later, a girl emerged.
"Finally!" I said as I went for the door. I shut it behind me and locked it
tight. I approached the toilet, sitting there with a fuzzy blue seat cover,
and proceeded to remove my overalls. I felt some wind break as I struggled
with the left button. When that was free I got the second undone and let
them drop to my feet. I began trying to pull down my diaper when I was
reminded of a minor detail. I was still wearing my pink onesie. I bent over
to undo the snaps when it happened.
Not a mess, not that one, anyway. I'm not sure exactly why, but in that
instant I remembered something. Something out of my past.
The details were fuzzy, as I was four years old. But I recalled my mother
and father had dragged me along to some party of theirs. I don't know why,
as they usually just left me home for that stuff. Regardless, I was there
and, just like now, I'd had to go potty. Number two. I went into the
bathroom solo (which I know for a fact I'd been doing since I was three),
but I had trouble with the overall buttons. I struggled and struggled and
struggled until, finally, I got one of them off. Then I struggled and
struggled and struggled with the other. Unfortunately, by the time I'd
gotten that one off it was too late. As my overalls fell to my ankles I
performed the unpleasant deed of soiling my brand new Cinderella underpants.
"Aw, God, she crapped herself!"
That had been my father's reaction, when he had come in for the same reason
I had and was stopped short by the sight of his daughter in dirty panties.
My mother walked in at his cry and I remember a horrible look on her face.
As if she was thinking "I have to clean that up!" Which of course she didn't
as, after dragging me into the car (not even bothering to let me pull up my
overalls first) and driving me home, they just plopped me in the tub and
left me to the rest. I'm not sure, but I think they went back to their party
without me.
As that scene played out in my mind, and the little me in pigtails and big
girl pants went poop, the big girl in pigtails and baby diapers did the
same. My mind had gone numb at the sensation of my dirty diaper, and the
memory of my prior accident. For nearly a minute I simply stood there in our
neighbor's bathroom, hunched over, the diaper I was wearing sagging a bit
from my mess. Soon my legs gave out and I feel backwards, right onto the
mess in my diaper, making it spread every which way within my diaper and
some even leaking out.
That was how Mommy and Daddy eventually found me. It had taken them less
time than I'd thought it would to notice I was gone. They asked a couple
people and found I'd gone inside. It wasn't hard for them to find me in the
bathroom. In my haste to get undressed I'd neglected to lock the door. So
they walked in and saw me, sitting there, overalls 'round my legs, quietly
sobbing in my wet, messy, leaky diaper.
Truth be told, everything from that point on is a bit fuzzy. I think Daddy
helped me to my feet while Mommy wiped up what had leaked out before pulling
my overalls back up. Daddy helped me walk outside. If I protested that,
nobody paid me any mind. I remember Mommy left, I think now she went to make
some excuse for their leaving. She met back up with us, but I forget when.
The only thing on my mind was the sensation of walking in that diaper.
I didn't even remember afterward Mommy and Daddy undressing me in the
bathroom at home and giving my bottom a thorough wipe-down before putting me
in the bath. Nor the clean diaper and clothes I was dressed in right after.
I spent the remainder of the afternoon and night in something of a daze. I
sat in the family room, playing toys, only vaguely aware of what was
happening around me.
The next morning, my rationale returned. Mommy and Daddy fetched me from my
crib but, instead of changing my diaper, they removed the diaper and dressed
me in panties and regular, grown-up clothes. I was very confused at first.
But then they sat me down and retold the prior day's events. They didn't say
anything about my going behind their back to find a toilet, instead, they
offered to cut me loose. I could go, but I would be paid as though I'd done
the whole month. Or, if I wished, I could stay here the remainder, but I
needn't go through with the baby act any longer.
"Well, actually..." I had told them, "If it's all right, I think I'd prefer
things to stay like they are."
They were surprised, I'm sure.
"I-I mean we made a deal, right? I shouldn't go flaking out in the middle of
it!"
Especially since, truth be told, there was nowhere else I'd rather be. Daddy
seemed to pick up on that.
"Sweetheart" Daddy said, "Is there something you want to talk about.?"
"No! No I'm... I mean, there is.. but shouldn't I..."
I wasn't sure quite how to answer. Mommy and Daddy waited patiently for me
to get my thoughts together. In the end, I decided to just be honest. I took
a deep breath, and began.
"My mother and father, they always treated me like a servant. There were
days I just couldn't handle it... looking back, I realize I would often wish
I could have a new mom and dad. People who wouldn't make me wait on them
hand and foot... people who would encourage me, and praise me... people
who'd let me be a kid! Eventually, wanting to be a kid gave way to wanting
to be an adult, so I could get out of there. But, when that finally
happened, I wound up worse off. Then I found this house..."
I hadn't really noticed, but I had begun tearing up as I spoke. Mommy and
Daddy, usually ones to come to comfort me, did nothing. I continued.
"At first, I was all 'Okay, this baby stuff's weird, but I can take it.' The
money was too good to pass up, and I didn't have to do much, really. But
then THAT became a problem. I didn't have to do much. So I wound up doing a
lot of thinking while I played the part. I started to remember that old
wish, and began to enjoy doing things I hadn't been able to do in years, if
ever. This was fun, I thought, I could live a month of this easy. But
then... yesterday...
"I really don't remember much after I... um... well... you know... I was
just so shocked. When it happened, I remembered something, from when I was
little. I had pooped myself then, too, and my parents were disgusted. They
distanced themselves from me at first opportunity. But now, as a grown
woman, not a child, I did that exact same thing, and you... you didn't.
"I don't remember much from yesterday, but there's one thing I remember very
clearly. When I was messed up, you were there. You took care of me in a way
my real parents never did. You were there, by me, the entire time. Watching
over me, making sure I was okay.
"It made me feel more at ease and comfortable than I ever had in my life.
This feeling of happiness, of safety... I think it's what your son longed
for. I think that's what he felt... no, I'm SURE it's what he felt. And I'm
sure because... when I understood why he was an adult baby, I realized that
I had become one myself!"
I looked up, having been staring at my knees the whole time I'd spoken. I
saw Mommy, tears flowing, trying hard not to just break into sobs. Daddy
tried to be stone-faced, but I could see in his eyes he was feeling
emotional too.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"Cady..." Daddy said, his voice choked up, "We can't thank you enough."
"Huh?"
"I think, I think we finally have what we need." he said.
"We put so much pressure on him growing up..." Mommy muttered.
"Your son?" I asked.
"Yes." Daddy answered, "We always did what we could to make him succeed.
Academically, athletically, socially. It was the most important thing to us
that our son be able to do as he pleased when he grew. But at the same time,
we were ensuring he couldn't do the one thing he wanted most."
"Be a kid..." Cady finished.
"That's right..." Mommy said, "He could never play sports in school, because
we'd insist he become the best. He could never slack off in his schoolwork,
because we would punish him. He couldn't even have friends, because we'd try
to make sure he only knew people who could help him in adulthood. He could
never have any real kind of fun.
"To come to us with what he felt... to be open... he wanted our
acceptance..."
"And we threw him out on his ear!" Daddy sobbed, unable to keep himself back
anymore.
I watched as they started crying Then I started crying. We embraced each
other in a group hug which felt like it had lasted several minutes. We let
go of each other when our tears ran out. And I now know what I had to do.
"Mommy... Daddy... where is your son, now?"
"What?" Mommy asked.
"Where is he?"
"He's away at school. Out of state and away from us." Mommy looked like she
might cry again.
"Well, he won't be for long!"
My parents looked up at me.
"I'm going to go get him and bring him back here!" I declared, "Then you can
apologize, and maybe you, all of you, can be happy again!"
"All of us, you mean?" Daddy asked, looking right at me.
"Us?"
"You're as much family now as our own son, Cady." Mommy said, tearing up
again. I couldn't help but do the same.
"Th-thank you..." I said, wiping my eyes, "I-I'll get going as soon as I
can... but, can I ask one thing?"
"Name it."
"Well," I smied, "Could you pack me some diapers? It'll be a long trip."
Here Is the Whole story Have fun with it.
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