Home For Unwed Mothers

[diaperpt]

As you will see, this is a long story. Diapers aren't involved for some time. Many of you may not like it at all.That's OK. I would like some feedback either way.

Home for Unwed Mothers

Written by diaperpt for his own enjoyment. Hopefully you will find the story amusing and interesting yourself. While I could make noises about this story being copyrighted and not to be reproduced, I find that a little silly from my personal point of view. I didn’t write it for money or any incentive other than my own satisfaction. If you do copy it or post it elsewhere, I would like the courtesy of attribution. Few know me as diaperpt and so even that may have little meaning. Please grant me that tiny bit of pride, if not arrogance, in my story.

Prologue Chapter One: Escape

They were brothers; now 16 and 17 years old. Both were tall and lanky, but otherwise looked nothing alike. The younger boy, Jim, had long blond straight hair shoulder length and almost constantly framing a cute smile. His face was round, his eyes were large for his face and very blue and his nose was very small. Facial hair was almost non-existent. Overall, it was a classic baby face. His complexion was almost clear after several years of minor and typical teenage acne. Doug was dark and brooding, emphasized by deep set brown eyes and a mouth that never seemed to smile. His hair was medium-short, brown and handsomely wavy. No matter how often he shaved, he looked like he needed another, but girls said only in a sexy way. Jim’s smile and Doug’s non-smile both conveyed an image to girls that attracted their attention. While the boys’ faces seemed to convey more emotion that those of others their age, in fact, there was very little behind the mask of whatever expression they wore.

As they walked along the highway leading out of the small North Shore town on this warm, spring early evening, one would have guessed they were high school buddies on their way to play video games at the home of one of them, though now they were beyond the residential section of town. Jim wore an old tee-shirt with a faded logo on front. His jeans were dirty and somewhat ratty looking; not for style but because they were, for now, the only clothes he owned.

Doug was dressed a little better. He had been lucky just two days ago and in a bag left next to a Salvation Army donation bin, had found a pair of chinos and a polo shirt which fit him well. The rest of the bag had been women’s clothes and no help in outfitting Jim. The pants were a tiny bit long for Doug but he was grateful for the find.

When they were at home, they were much more accustomed to the best and most expensive clothes, but they had been on their own for several months now. They had not managed well the money they’d taken from home and some had been stolen from them by others, more savvy in living on the street. Doug had started out with worn sneakers, but in that first week on the streets Jim had made the mistake of taking off his new Nike’s when he went to sleep. When he woke, they were gone and an old pair of beaten up Converse, a ½ size too small for him was left behind. They were learning fast the hard ways of the streets. Others their age might have been angry or afraid; some might have felt a small exhilaration in their freedom; these two only felt determination.

Now as they walked along the edge of the road, they tried not to be obvious but were looking carefully for any sign of police or anyone else looking for them. At the sound of a car on this lonely road, they would immediately duck into the bushes spreading from the road to the woods beyond. While it wasn’t likely that the owners of that place had returned home yet, it was wise of them to be cautious. They’d carefully, but unsuccessfully looked for some clothes to fit Jim, taken a little over twenty dollars in cash laying on a desk, and had feasted on some leftovers and a couple cans of beer they’d found in the refrigerator. They had hoped for more, but were happy with what they got.

It didn’t bother them at all that they’d broken into the home. They’d had a need and they simply filled that need. They’d learned this lesson through experience with their mom, Irene Cologne. In her case, it was certainly no financial need, being the only daughter and heir of a family with wealth accumulated in the 60’s and 70’s.

No, she was so wealthy that money was absolutely no concern to her. Her needs instead ran to liquor and male companionship. Although she had two sons with obvious needs of their own, she ignored theirs in favor of what she saw as her own, more important needs.

In each of her very short marriages, her husbands were over-achieving businessmen who expected their wife to manage the home and family while they were constantly busy making money. Well, when they weren’t running around with other women, that is.

Irene’s fortune had only increased with investments and there was just no way she could possibly run through it all, despite her ways.

In fact, the money had only grown with each of her two unsuccessful marriages. The cash settlement from the first – Doug’s father - and then the inherited wealth from her second husband had actually more than tripled her own wealth. The second husband had died under rather suspicious circumstances, but the police had never come close to enough evidence to even suggest the possibility that Irene was somewhat involved in her husband’s unfortunate death. Of course, she was.

Prologue Chapter Two: Ideal Parents

Doug wouldn’t have known his father even by name. Irene had ditched her first husband’s name as quickly as she ditched him, legally changing the baby’s last name to her own as well. She took only a portion of her husband’s huge wealth in settlement for the indiscretions he’d committed – or the ones her lawyers and investigators had managed to document legitimately or not. To avoid scandal, he quickly and quietly caved to Irene’s demands. Her own indiscretions were big, but he was vulnerable to any bad publicity about either of them. Besides, his wealth was so vast, even the large amount she’d taken was hardly missed.

Irene took her 6 month old infant and moved into a luxury apartment in the center of Boston. She did not let her son slow her down. She hired sitters while she went out on the town with a string of men. Often little Dougie would cry himself to sleep, hungry and lonely when his mother returned andsaw to her sexual needs almost anywhere else in the apartment. Often he was left crying in his crib with a soaked and leaky diaper. The sitters were fired, one after another, as they grew weary of having to care for Dougie way past the expected hours, only to be dismissed by a drunken Irene who couldn’t wait to shed her clothes for the man she’d brought home. Although the sitters couldn’t help but feel a little bad for it, they often took out their frustration on the baby. They might start out caring, but most of them would fall into a pattern of lax care, largely taking out their frustration with the mother on the innocent son. If she had been a welfare mother, child services would have snatched the baby away. Because of her wealth and assumed social status, no one would have paid attention to anything that might have been said by any of the boy’s sitters.

Irene was not the motherly type and while she kept the baby relatively healthy, there was not a shred of nurture provided. This certainly did not change when she found herself pregnant again and at a loss for who the father might have been. Finally she’d narrowed it down to one of two very wealthy men she’d bedded and from him had wrangled an inordinate amount of monthly child support. His consolation was that he could keep this secret from his wife and thus avoid an embarrassing divorce and even more costly settlement. Irene’s taste in very wealthy yet very horny and vulnerable men was uncanny.

There were even fewer sitters willing to take care of two little ones, but Irene managed to string along two women over a period of two years who actually became live in Nannies. She had to come up with a substantial salary even for young girls brought over from Ireland. As her abuse of them increased, their pay had increased as well just to keep someone in the house with the boys.

The first of them had lasted a year and six months before she had had it. It was bad enough that Irene’s instructions were to let the baby cry and largely fend for himself – with the foolish thought that this would toughen him up. Worse was that when Irene came home drunk but without a man, she would end up being physically abusive to the Nanny. Of course, she belittled the young girl constantly and in general made her life miserable. If the nanny’s financial need were not so great, she would have left much sooner.

The second Nanny was dismissed when one of Irene’s conquests fell stupidly in love with Irene – no, not really love; simply lust. But never mind, they were married, and Irene’s life carried on much as before. Within a week of the marriage, she was bringing men home while he was staying late for business. In return, the husband would come home to forcibly rape the young nanny. Within two weeks, the Nanny had left and Irene was alone with her nightly conquests and two needy sons.

This husband, for some reason, settled on a pre-nup which gave Irene a flat 15% of his wealth if they divorced within the first ten years of their marriage. She was not to take his name and he was not interested in either of her children, so the boys retained her last name as well. Of course, due to his unfortunate demise, which seemingly would have to remain listed as accidental, Irene retained his full fortune. Investigators were somehow led to a contented conclusion that the death was tragic, but mere misfortune.

Prologue Chapter Three: How to Raise a Family

For the next several years, care of the boys were left mostly to a string of babysitters who were only taking the position for the money. Because it made their day easier, they would let the boys go without diaper changes until their diapers began leaking down the toddler’s legs. Then they would be spanked for making more work for the sitter. They were still wearing diapers at the ages of three and two, largely because there was no parent to train them effectively.

Finally, somehow Irene found a woman to watch the boys over a full year of time during which she ‘trained’ the boys. It could be more accurately described as a reign of terror. The boys were finally trained, but at great emotional expense. They became very angry toddlers and would often throw their toys, smashing them into walls or furniture. When they were severely punished for this, their anger turned internal and finally to bitterness and sullenness.

Irene was disgusted that the boys wet their beds frequently and punished them severely for it. She tried making them change their own beds – sometimes two or three times a night when they were particularly stressed. There was a period of six months when they were made to wear diapers again all day and all night except when they were in school. At home they were allowed no pants to cover their diapers and even when they went outside, the diapers were made thick enough so they were a secret to no one. The boys began to build up walls within themselves to contain their anger and bitterness and to buffer them from the nastiness of the only world they knew.

The woman who had ‘toilet trained’ the brothers had long since left after a particularly bad episode when Irene came home drunk to find the sitter drunk as well. A description of the incident need not be repeated, but within two weeks the apartment walls were repaired and repainted and Irene had bought new dishes and glassware for the apartment. By then, little Jimmy had had the stitches removed from his forehead and the bruises on Doug had faded.

Now, Irene was on her own with the two boys. For the first several years of schooling, they’d attended a small private day-school in Boston. At night, they’d be left alone on their own while Irene went out to the best bars to bring home the best men to boink her. When Irene came home, the boys had to run to their room and shut off their lights. Even with their ipods, it was impossible to ignore the disgusting sounds of their mother’s drunken screams of love-making and her wild rantings of abuse of her partners following the act. Most of the men would rant back at her, slamming the door of the apartment to shouted phrases along the lines of “crazy, sick bitch!” Their mother would rant more to herself until more alcohol led her into a sleepy stupor lasting well into mid to late morning.

Doug and Jim learned that they only had each other and formed a strange, but strong bond between them. Whether Irene was out looking for men or sleeping off her latest bottle of Scotch, they would either put together a meal for themselves from the meager stock of food Irene kept on hand or more likely take money from Irene’s desk drawer and call for take-out delivery.

They were so smart that they got away with little to no homework; who could study in that apartment anyway? Yet they still maintained mostly A’s and a smattering of B’s in school. They spent their time at home, playing video games and talking about a time when they could get away from the monster they had to call Mom. They looked to a day when they could fill their needs instead of being ignored and abused as Irene sought to fill hers.

Irene had convinced the Fathers at St. Aedan’s High School to take the boys on in the same grade even though a little more than a year apart in age. As time progressed it was deemed best for all, because the boys didn’t seem to relate to the other children well. In fact, report after report noted that the boys treated the other students more as objects than humans. They knew enough to say and do the right things to keep out of major trouble, but seemed concerned only about themselves. Incident after incident lead the Monsignor to dismiss the boys. He could see the clear need for psychiatric evaluation, but Irene would have nothing to do with it and left a hefty donation behind to maintain confidentiality.

Irene successfully had these reports buried when the boys were transferred to the exclusive Standish Academy boarding school for the remainder of their high school years. Of course the same pattern of behavior cropped up there, but the school was known to cater to wealthy children whose behavior was not what it should be. They were just as happy living at the school as roommates and classmates. After all, when they went home for vacations, they were alone anyway. And they shared the same vision of life and where it might lead them.

Prologue Chapter Four: Out on Their Own

This had been the boys’ background. It might help explain how they had gotten here; where they were as this story began; alone again and on a road that would lead them somewhere – or nowhere. Jim heard what he thought was the distant hum of an approaching car.

“Ditch, Doug!”

The two ran quickly to hide behind some low lying laurel bushes at the side of the road – apparently not quickly enough as two local police cruisers pulled up at the side of the road. Two cops sprang out of one and a solo cop from the other. The bushes seemed good enough to hide in, but the officers had seen them from a distance. Flushed out of their hiding spot, the boys were taken down only two hundred feet from their initial hiding place.

Jim and Doug fought hard, but were no match for these locals who soon had them each on their stomachs, hands tightly cuffed behind them. They were booked and held for three days before they were released into the custody of a lawyer they’d never seen nor heard of before.

In the lawyer’s office, the two boys sat defiantly in front of the rich wood desk. The lawyer informed the boys that he was one of their mother’s attorneys and he’d been informed by the police of their arrest. He had already spoken with the prosecutor and after a brief court appearance within the next month, the boys would be released under the youthful offender laws.

Jim and Doug smiled at each other and yet were somewhat concerned that their mother would now know where they were. Since they both were still under-age, they weren’t sure what action their mother might take. They didn’t have long to find out, as the lawyer explained that their mother had died only ten days earlier after being hit by a car. She’d stumbled out of one of her favorite watering holes in downtown Boston and into oncoming traffic. She’d lived for two days after the accident, but according to her living will had had the plug pulled. After her breathing tube had been removed, she submitted to a quiet death only twenty minutes later.

The boys simply stared with no expression at the lawyer as he relayed this information. He’d known a little about this ‘family’ and hadn’t expected a huge outpouring of grief. He wasn’t prepared for the blank stare, followed by Doug’s quiet flat-toned questions.

“So how much money was she worth? How soon will we get our money and how soon can we move into her old place?”

He hadn’t even referred to the apartment as if he or his brother had ever lived there. In what little there was of his heart, he felt he had never really lived there. He and Jim knew no father. They’d heard from schoolmates and had read in books about what mothers were supposed to be. They knew they’d never had one.

[Three Rivers]

A very nice start to the story.

[junyour]

An excellent start. I look forward to more as time passes. Please bring it as you get the chance

[diaperpt]

Chapter One: The First

Several years later, the 22 year old blond girl smiled with huge blue eyes at the gorgeous hunk sitting close to her at the table. They’d had sandwiches and three drinks. She was feeling the onset of a minor buzz but could weather several more drinks. Her mind was on other things though, as her hand slipped up his leg toward his crotch.

“You said your place was just around the corner,” she smiled. “What do you say you show me if it’s as nice as you said it is?”

“I thought you’d never ask, Linda,” said the good-looking young man, only three years older than the girl picking him up. “It really is a great apartment. I can’t wait to show it to you.”

The red-haired man pushed his fashionable eyeglasses back into place, paid the tab and left a generous tip. Moments later, he was unlocking the door and ushering Linda into his apartment. After only one more drink, Linda started feeling like she might have made a mistake. She was feeling the drinks – or so she thought. Actually it was the drug Jim had placed in her Margarita. While she was completely losing awareness of anything around her, he quickly put away the eyeglasses he didn’t really need. He’d rinse the color out of his hair later on.

Doug soon came in the rear service entrance and helped Jim half-carry, half-drag the young lady into the service elevator to the basement and into their blue soccer-Mom van. They rolled her onto the floor in the rear of the van and secured her to the frame of the rear seat with cuffs and chains place just for that purpose.

As they drove to their destination, no one would make any note of the van nor could they see through the tinted windows to notice the cargo it carried. The trip took a little over two hours, given the heavy afternoon traffic on the Mass Pike. The rest of the drive was short, almost directly off the exit, and soon the van pulled to a stop behind an enormous stone building. Doug unlocked a wide door close to where the van was parked while Jim went to the back of the van and unlocked the chains leaving the girl still in cuffs and leg irons. It was an unnecessary precaution, even though the woman was beginning to moan softly.

Now Doug was there with a hospital style gurney upon which they placed their visitor, strapped her down and rolled her into the building. Three floors above, they wheeled her down a hall and through a doorway. The woman’s eyes were just beginning to flutter as they transferred her to the small cot in the otherwise unfurnished room.

The rays of a setting sun lit the flat white wall across from the single small window, starkly noting the cross pattern of heavy metal bars meant to keep the inhabitant of this room there. The woman moaned again and her glazed eyes stared blankly out and then rolled shut once more. Strapped securely to the bed, she didn’t even hear the heavy clank of the door being shut and locked.

Hours later when Jim opened the door and entered with a small tray of food, Linda fought her bonds trying to shrink away from this man smiling down at her. “Please,” she whimpered. “I don’t know what you want, but please don’t hurt me. Please.”

Actually, Linda thought she knew exactly what the man wanted. She knew this blond didn’t look like the man she’d met at the bar and she didn’t understand that part. They usually did this on their own, didn’t they? They never were in pairs, or at least she’d never heard of it. She bit her lower lip as she looked away from the man, fearing what she fully expected. She was going to be raped. If she was lucky, she’d be allowed to live – for a time. If so, she’d be repeatedly raped. Probably by this man and the one who’d brought her home from the bar. And she knew that then she’d die.

Chapter Two: Another First

The four young men sat at the table working on their third pitcher of beer shouting at the large screen TV mounted in the sports bar.

“Damn it! What the hell is wrong with them tonight? They couldn’t hit the floor if they were tripped; let alone hit the basket! How could they lose to the stupid Nets? I’m not so sure I even want to go to the Fleet Center Saturday if they’re going to play like this!”

The 22 year old slammed his glass down on the table and said, “Well, I’m out of here. You comin’ Sam?”

Sam, a 21 year old, freshly moved out from his parents was feeling his freedom and newfound right to drink alcohol. “Nah, I’m gonna stay here with these guys.” Looking at the pair across from him, he thought to ask, “That OK with you two?”

Ed smiled at Lou and then at Sam. “Sure, Sam. I’m in no rush to leave. Have another beer.”

A pitcher later, Ed and Lou were helping Sam stumble out of the bar. Sam was somehow suddenly very drunk. Lou assured the bartender that they would take care of him. Ten minutes later, Sam was passed out and secured safely in the rear of the blue soccer-Mom van.

When Sam finally began to wake up, he knew his head hurt a lot and he knew that when he tried to move, he couldn’t. He thought of those dreams you have when you wake and for some weird reason can’t move. As he slowly opened his eyes to see the bare bulb on the stark white ceiling, he began to realize this was not a dream and there was probably very good reason why he couldn’t move. Though it hurt his head to raise it up, he struggled enough to see more of the bed he was secured to and most of the cell in which he was locked.

The bright glow of sun was shining through a barred window above the bed. It must be morning. How long had he been out? What was going on? Why was he here? Those two guys had seemed friendly enough. He was correct in assume they’d brought him here, but why? He had no idea.

When Doug brought the tray of food into the room, Sam looked up with a puzzled look and said, “Ed? What’s going on? What are you doing?”

Doug’s expression was somewhat vacant as he said, “You don’t need to know right now. I will tell you, though, my name isn’t really Ed. I will also tell you we mean you no harm. You will not be hurt at all, as long as you cooperate. That may be hard to believe, but it’s true. If you misbehave, you may be punished, but not any more severely than the misbehavior might warrant. We have no intention of letting any permanent damage or harm come to you.”

He set the food on a small stool by the side of the bed and said, “Don’t fight me. I’m going to release your legs and arms from the restraints on the bed. I’ve got to leave you in the cuffs and shackles but I’m going to help you into a sitting position so you can eat. Will you let me do that or am I going to have to bring in my brother who is just across the hall tending to another of our new friends?”

Sam looked into Doug’s eyes, seeing a deep darkness within them. He didn’t trust Doug at all, but was still logy from whatever had knocked him out and was frankly in fear for his life. He was trembling with fear and slowly nodded.

He didn’t have much appetite and it was a little difficult to feed himself with his hands cuffed as they were. He tried to shift his position, but couldn’t because the leg irons had been fastened to a bolt in the floor. Still, he knew he should eat to maintain his strength for whatever was to come. As he chewed on the small sandwich cut into small squares on the plate, his eyes began to tear up as he worried about whatever that whatever would be.

[diaperpt]

Chapter 3: Small Relief

Linda woke slowly as the darkness in the cell brightened slightly as morning broke. She tried to roll on the uncomfortable bed, but this only reminded her of the restraints which held her tightly in place. She began crying a little bit, worried about what lay ahead of her, but thankful that neither man involved in capturing her had raped her yet. While the man who’d come in with the food last night was very cool and distant, he’d let her up to eat before allowing her to use the small built in toilet in the corner of the room and then locking her back in the bed.

Soon the man who had called himself Paul at the bar opened the door and brought in another tray of food.

“I know we can’t trust you not to try to escape, but let me tell you a tiny bit of why you’re here. We mean you no harm. It’s just that young women like you hang out at bars, hook up with guys like me, who then knock you up and leave. Girls like you aren’t prepared to be mothers. You’ve got no idea what to do. So we’re going to help you,” he said. “I bet you thought we were going to force ourselves on you – rape you – who knows what? But we are going to take good care of you. And you’re going to learn. You’re going to practice. We aren’t going to hurt you at all.”

She looked up at him, tugging at the restraints, willing herself to disappear into the wall next to the bed. What he was saying made absolutely no sense. Why was she here?

“Now, now,” he said. “You’ve got to learn to trust me. I know you will eventually, but the sooner you begin, the easier it will be for you. I’m going to have to keep the cuffs and leg irons on you for a while – you yourself will determine exactly how long – but I’m going to release you from the bed restraints. That way you can go to the bathroom when you need to, you can eat your meals and at least move around the cell. Don’t worry about escape, though. This place has held countless people bent on escape every bit as much as you.”

He smiled a hollow smile at her as he released the restraints. “Really. You’re going to be fine.”

He turned and walked away from the bed. The slam of the cell door echoed through Linda’s soul. She was still worried about what they had planned for her – it certainly couldn’t be good. She was, however, happy to be released from the bed. The cuffs and leg irons chafed, but she needed to go to the bathroom and she was very hungry. She decided to first struggle to the built-in toilet in the corner of the cell. With her hands in the cuffs it was almost impossible to lift her skirt, and pull down her panties, but she managed. Glad to at least be able to move around the cell now, hobbled as she was, she returned and finished the meal. She wondered if it had been tainted by any drug, but hunger won out over fear.

Two days later, she still had no more idea what was going to happen to her, but she was strangely beginning to accept that they had no intention of hurting her. But was she to be sold into some sort of slavery? She’d heard that human trafficking was more and more common. She’d seen the movie, Taken. But in Boston? Maybe.

Chapter Four: A New Reality

Sam had finished eating and Doug had returned to force the boy back into a reclining position on the cot. The boy had begged to use the bathroom, but Doug only laughed.

Two hours later, Jim unlocked the door and wheeled the cart through the door and over toward the bed. His captive looked up, worried and yet still somehow hopeful that he’d be released. This boy’s naivety was almost amusing, Jim thought.

“What…what is going on? Will you tell me? Please let me up. I need to use the bathroom. Are you going to let me out of here? What are you going to do...”

Jim stopped smiling and glared down at the boy, “Shut up! We told you we’re not going to hurt you. You don’t need to worry about anything. We promise that every need is going to be taken care of. In fact you’re really going to be babied – doted on – mothered.”

The boy looked up, not consoled at all by what Jim had said. “Bu…bu…but what do you mean? What’s going to happen?”

“I told you to be quiet, didn’t I? OK, here you go.” Jim seemed to lose patience yet did not seem quite angry as he turned to the cart and back.

Sam only saw a blur and soon felt something soft and rubbery slipping into his mouth. He tried to move his head away unsuccessfully as a harness of straps was wound around his head. Before he could think, he felt the straps tighten.

“Uggghhhh…waaa….daaaa!” Sam could only mumble garbled sounds into the large bulb now filling his mouth. He felt a large flange outside his mouth held tightly against his lips which were in turn held open by this intruder. He might have been afraid before, but his fear had just multiplied!

His eyes got even bigger and his heart began to pound as the large medical sheers came out and began a journey up each pant leg, parting the fabric as easily as a water skier slicing through the water. Maneuvering the scissors around the restraint straps, Jim soon tugged the now useless and ruined pants from beneath Sam and proceeded to cut off his boxers as well.

Sam wailed into the gag, pleading with garbled meaningless noise. Jim paid no heed as Sam’s shirt was soon in shreds and tossed to the side as well. He lay there completely naked now. His eyes were huge as Jim instructed him to raise his butt as far as he could. Sam heard the rustling sound of plastic as Jim smacked the side of his thigh to encourage Sam to lift his bottom. Jim worked quickly to slide something beneath the boy. Even in his horror, Sam felt the papery and almost scratchy surface beneath him and heard a crinkling plastic sound as the object was moved into place. Soon Jim was shaking a white container above Sam with a snowstorm of powder cascading into Sam’s crotch.

Sam flinched as one of Jim’s hands moved between his legs. There was only more wonder in Sam’s eyes as the front of the disposable diaper was drawn up tightly and taped shut.

“That takes care of your need to use a toilet for a while. Now I’ll take care of your feeding.”

With that, Jim took a large bag of white fluid from the cart and hung it on a hook on the wall above the bed. Unwinding a long plastic tube leading from the bag, he attached it to the gag in Sam’s mouth and watched as the white fluid found its way into Sam’s mouth.

Sam soon felt the liquid seeping out of several holes in the bulb in his mouth. He tried to stop the flow, but found he couldn’t resist and instead began to swallow at an even and steady rate as the liquid flowed into his mouth. He was thirsty and so the liquid was not entirely unwelcome.

Because of the gag, he couldn’t fully taste whatever the liquid was. It seemed a little like milk, but not quite. He was right. It was a milk base with extra protein and bulk mixed in. There was also a mild diuretic and a fairly strong sedative.

Drinking made Sam realize how full his bladder was. Once he began thinking about it, it only made things worse. He tugged at the restraints holding him down. This only made him more desperate. If he wasn’t allowed up soon, he was going to be in trouble. The trauma of being caught, drugged and brought here was the beginning of his terror. Restrained to this bed, he’d now been gagged, had his clothes cut off and what was only beginning to sink in was that an adult-size diaper had been put on him. He hardly noticed Jim’s exit from the room and felt more than heard the cell door shut. Part of his mind integrated this feeling into his being as his heart sinking.

None of this made any sense at all to him. Not a bit. And now his bladder ached. He couldn’t fathom giving in, though his stomach was stretching to accommodate a seeming endless flow from the bag hanging above him. His bladder went from aching to screaming at him. The first small spurt was hardly noticed. With the second, Sam felt a slight warmth at the tip of his penis.

All the while, he struggled to maintain the consistent and even swallowing which kept him from choking on the liquid flowing into his mouth. Shifting his concentration back and forth from his mouth and stomach to his bladder, he suddenly realized that his bladder had surrendered. He sensed the familiar release of urine but with an incredibly different feeling; one of wetness and warmth at his crotch. He was peeing himself. He felt the warmth spread out on his front and down through his crotch and he thought to himself, I’m wetting a diaper!

[pampywamp]

hope u continue soon

[diaperpt]

Chapter Five: Moving In to New Quarters

In a small bar near Fenway Park, the 22 year old named Bob smiled at the dark-haired guy with the slight beard.

“Wow, sure! I can move my stuff tomorrow. I don’t have much but my clothes anyway. That dump I’ve been living in was supposedly furnished. What a rat hole! Thanks for giving me a chance. I’ll make a great roommate, you’ll see.”

The dark-haired man smiled back saying, “Oh, I have no doubt we’ll get along just great! How would you like to go see my place now? It’s a short walk from the T and it’s on the way back to your apartment. You can check out your room and see for yourself.”

Bob looked anxiously, “Are you sure that’s OK? I…I don’t want to put you out or anything. I’m just grateful that you’re offering me a place to stay. I’ve just got to get out of that hole I’m in now and I can’t face going home to my parents.”

The two kept up an animated conversation as they made the trip downtown on the Green Line. Doug opened the door to the apartment with Bob’s mouth gaping.

“I can’t believe it! This place is beautiful! Are you sure I can stay here?”

Doug laughed, “Well maybe only for 15 or 20 minutes. Seriously, your room is just down the hall.”

Bob laughed too as he followed his new roommate down the hall. He didn’t even notice as Doug picked up the syringe. He was taken totally by surprise as the needle slid into his arm and its contents began to spread through his system.

His eyes opened wide and a panicked look spread over his face. “What…wha… oh, noooo…hep meh…,” he said as his words began to slur and his world turned dark. His body slumped and twisted down to the floor in slow motion. Mumbles escaped his lips as he slid into unconsciousness.

Linda heard the footsteps approach the cell door. She had obeyed the voice even before she heard it, “Step away from the door. When I open the door, I need to see you at the far end of your bed.”

In complete fear, she’d initially retreated all the way to the back wall and advanced to the edge of the bed only to avoid any consequence of not following directions exactly. She was still amazed at not being molested in any way. Still, days had gone by. She’d been fed regularly and although still in handcuffs and leg shackles, she was able to use the toilet whenever she needed to. Sleeping was hard, in part because of the restraints and in part because of the fear she had been living with.

So far, there had been no hint that she was to be taken somewhere else; while the fear of human trafficking remained, there was no evidence to that effect. But why was she here? She’d been assured that no harm would come to her. This had still been stated as a negative; she was told what wasn’t going to happen. Part of her just didn’t want to know, but another part needed to know what was going to happen. What she had been told made no sense to her and she had given it no credence.

Both Jim and Doug entered the cell. She still had no idea what their names were. The red head she’d been captured by was now a blond and he no longer needed glasses, apparently. It had been an effective disguise. She could barely tell that she was looking at the same man who was with her in the bar.

As they explained what was to come, she could only drop her jaw in amazement. This couldn’t be real – it was basically what she’d been told before, but still, this couldn’t be real.

“You are going to learn how to be a mother. I told you that earlier, but I’m sure it made no sense to you,” said Jim. “Too many women make awful mothers. We’ve taken on the task of trying to help with that. You’ve been brought here to learn how to take care of a baby.”

So they were going to force sex on her! She knew it! They were going to hold her captive and impregnate her. They were going to force her to have a baby. She sank onto the bed, sitting limply and staring at the floor.

“We know you’ve never had a baby and we have no interest in bringing more into the world. We’re going to furnish you with a baby of your own. Well, I’m sure he doesn’t think of himself as a baby yet, but he will eventually. You’ll help him,” Jim smiled at her in a strange and frightening way.

Doug smiled too. “You’ll see. It’s going to be fine. We are hoping you will grow to love your baby and treat him just right. That’s what you’re here for. We are going to supervise you; watch over you. If you make mistakes, we’re going to help you correct your mistakes and get better at being a mother.”

They paused for a moment to let the words soak into Linda’s consciousness. She stared at the floor for a while more then looked up with a puzzled look and said, “What? I don’t get it.”

“That’s OK,” Jim responded. “You will in time. For now, we’re going to bring you down to your new apartment and get you set up. I think you’re going to be very comfortable there. Once we get you down there, we’ll let you out of your cuffs and leg irons. Unless you act up – and we’ll know because we have surveillance cameras to cover every square inch of the apartment, even the bathroom – you will not be restrained at all. I think you’ll find the furnishings more than adequate. You won’t have access to everything for now, but that will come.”

Doug continued, “We know this is a lot to absorb, but we are NOT going to hurt you. We’re telling you the truth. Accept it or not for now. Can we get going or do you need a little more time to process all this?”

In a daze, Linda slowly stood. As if in a trance, she allowed the two men to walk her out of the cell, down the hall to a stairwell and down a flight of stairs. They unlocked several doors as they went.

She still flinched at being touched by these men; she didn’t believe what they’d said and feared what was to come. Moving without feeling, she put one foot in front of the other only vaguely hearing the clank of the leg iron chains and the footfalls of the three of them. When they stopped, she was staring blankly at another locked door. After Jim opened the door, Linda saw that it opened onto a surprising scene. She was led into a room perhaps as large as 20’x20’.

A thick, rich, dark blue carpet covered the floor. The walls were a pleasant and lighter shade of blue. Against one wall was a large long sofa. On the opposite wall a large flat screen TV was mounted high on the wall. The ceilings were lower than in the cell where she’d been kept; it seemed far more in keeping with a real apartment. There were several attractive pictures on the wall; nice artwork that, in spite of how fearful she was, comforted her a tiny bit. Lighting was provided by tasteful ceiling lights, a floor lamp and two lamps set on end tables. Against another wall there was a small wooden dining table with a single chair next to it. The end tables were made of solid looking dark wood and the dining table and chair, a nice maple finish. Two large windows let bright sunlight into the room and although the light was filtered by heavy bars, the windows themselves were framed by very pleasant drapes.

Except for the bars on the windows, she well could have been standing in a model apartment in an upscale condominium. Three doors opened off this main room; two on the wall to the left, the other on a facing wall. Two were shut, but bright daylight streamed from the other.

Jim led her to the doorway. She stopped just inside that room to take it all in. She could see the heavy bars on the large window, but it also was framed in very attractive lace curtains. The bedroom was not huge, but extremely adequate. A full size bed graced one wall with a dresser and makeup table gracing another. Next to the makeup table another door opened into what Linda could tell was a bathroom. There were double folding doors to what seemed might be a clothes closet set into a third wall. All the furnishings in the room matched and were complimented by rich wall-to-wall carpeting. If she had decorated what she’d seen of the apartment so far, she would not have done better.

For a moment, she even forgot the hand-cuffs and leg-irons. Jim reminded her.

“OK. You need to tell me that you’ll behave here. We’re going to take off the cuffs and leg-irons. This is your new apartment. Relax and get used to it. It should be more than adequate for you and your baby. Before we introduce you to your new baby, we’re going to let you get acclimated here. He’s not ready yet anyway. For now we’ll continue to bring in your meals, but if you prove we can trust you, soon you’ll be able to fix your own meals.”

Jim held her arms and looked deeply into her face. “Can we trust you? Tell me.”

Only half-believing and still afraid, Linda looked into his eyes trying to see the real truth. Her mind wandered to a thought that they’d set her up in this apartment so that those who would come to have sex with her would feel more comfortable. She still didn’t believe what she’d been told. Why should she? She tried to stare even more deeply into his eyes. She could see nothing. They seemed to be infinitely deep and vacant. He would not betray himself. He was cold and menacing in spite of his soft-spoken words and yet, she felt no options open to her.

“Yes. You can trust me. I don’t see a way of escaping anyway. What have I got to lose? I’ll do what you tell me,” she said, trying to convince herself that this was the best course available to her.

They had her sit in the chair by the dining table and then released her wrists and ankles. She rubbed the places where she’d been bound as if to restore circulation and remind herself that at least these bonds were truly gone – at least for now.

The two men said nothing more, but slipped out of the apartment, the door locking solidly as it closed.

After a while, Linda stood and began exploring. She tried the closed doors; they were locked. From there, she explored the full bathroom. It was tastefully appointed as well. Inset shelves held a more than adequate supply of towels, hand-towels and wash-clothes. What she had seen of the apartment amazed her. It was equipped and decorated so well; even better than her real apartment. Other than the locked entry and the barred windows, she did not notice the security features of the apartment. Any glass was shatter-proof and at least for now, there was little or nothing in the apartment that could be used as a weapon against either the captors or in a self-destructive act against the occupant. Hidden security cameras were located throughout the rooms so that there was not a square foot that was unobserved.

Linda continued her exploration of the apartment. Back in the bedroom, she found the dresser full of clothes in just her size. There was a wide selection of underwear, casual socks and hose. In other drawers she found no-nonsense pajamas of a style she favored and a few nightgowns – yet nothing sexy that would have betrayed a dangerous motive. There was a generous array of casual and even slightly dressy tops. There were sweaters and sweatshirts, shorts, sweatpants, yoga pants and other casual slacks. All were at least close to styles she would have purchased for herself and in enough variety to suit almost any mood.

Next she opened the closet and gasped. There were dresses and skirts of a variety of colors and styles hung before her. On the floor, there were more pairs of shoes that she had at home. Slippers, loafers, walking shoes and a couple pairs of heels. Everything was brand new. All the tags had already been removed, but clearly nothing had been worn. This was all arranged just for her. She shivered at the thought. Had these two men stalked her or had they bought all this while she was locked in the cell? Had they been to her apartment and gone through her things to check sizes and look at styles?

Her capture and confinement had made her feel violated, but suddenly the feeling deepened. She went to the bed, lay down and sobbed.

Chapter Six: The Making of a Broken Man

He’d been lying there wet for what seemed an interminable time. One of them had come and changed the diaper, wiping his skin with baby wipes and powdering him before taping on a new diaper. He’d wet again twice and had just finished another bag of that liquid which forced its way into his mouth and then to his stomach.

Sam still fought his captivity, though with complete futility, and he could only fight his own bladder so long before being forced to give in. Initially the difficulty of urinating while prone seemed almost insurmountable. There was an agony of not being able to release that seemed almost as painful as trying to hold it back. The thought of wetting himself in the diaper hurt his psyche with as much pain as what he felt physically.

Still embarrassed and humiliated, the thought of what might come next was far more dangerous and worrisome than wetting himself. He had actually begun to work at relaxing and let himself void when the understanding of inevitability crept into his mind. Now there began to be a fullness in his bottom that started to make itself known. He struggled to control it and he vainly thought it might be possible. He’d have realized differently if he knew about the laxative mixed in with the milky baby formula he’d been consuming.

With another wave of pressure, he decided it was gas and thus safe to release. He was half right. Immediately a loud fart came from deep within the diaper, but then a quick solid lump exploded from his bottom. Moments later, a slow stream of soft, moist stool forced its way into the tight confines of the diaper. He was on his back and so the mush forced itself downward. With still not enough room, it began creeping back up the back of his bottom as well as up toward the front of his diaper through his crotch. It came in very distinct waves until he felt the pressure subside.

As the minutes turned into an hour and then more, he dreaded being found like this by his captors as much as he hated the feeling of lying in his own urine and excrement. Rocking his bottom to relieve the icky feeling only made it worse. Why would they do this to him? What did they get out of seeing him like this? It didn’t matter. It felt horrible and he slid past the point of humiliation at being found dirty. He wanted to out of this filthy diaper. He wanted to be cleaned up even if he was to be put in yet another diaper.

It wasn’t much longer before he got his wish. Doug entered the cell and walked over to the smelly diapered man strapped to the bed.

“Well, I guess you’re a dirty baby, aren’t you?” he said with a sickening grin.

Sam could only mumble his thoughts into the gag. If looks could kill, Doug would have been mortally wounded. Instead, Sam was the victim.

“OK, baby, I’m going to bring you across to the shower room. You’re too messy to take care of here. Besides, it’ll be easier for me. Don’t worry though; soon it won’t be my job, but your Mommy’s.”

The baby reference stung, but Sam was more interested in the thought of a shower. He’d felt sweaty and dirty since he’d been here. Wetting and soiling his diaper was even worse. While he’d only feel truly comfortable by being released entirely, a shower would be a temporary relief.

Sam felt so miserable that he was docile as Doug released the straps on the bed and helped Sam to his feet. He was a little wobbly from being restrained for this long and struggled to waddle along as Doug led him through the unlocked door to another door across the hall. He could feel the poop slide in the diaper and he tried to spread his legs as far as his restraints would allow, hopelessly trying to escape the mess. At least with his legs spread, it helped keep the otherwise sagging diaper in place. Brought through the door, he saw a room about 10’x10’ entirely tiled and with a large floor drain near the far wall.

Doug led him toward a shower head on the opposite wall and reached up to catch a chain overhead which pulled easily but noisily down to meet and attach itself to the chain of Sam’s handcuffs. After tugging on the chain to test its connection, Doug seemed satisfied and retreated to the other wall. A quiet hum and a slight clank of chain and Sam found his arms rising in front of him. When Doug was satisfied that his charge was secure, he unlocked and released the leg irons, placing them to the side.

Doug was again at his side as he heard the screech of the diaper tapes ripping on the plastic casing of the diaper. First one side hung limp as Sam felt the mass inside of the diaper shift. As the sound of more of the diaper tapes being ripped open filled the room, the diaper gave way and landed with a loud plop on the floor at Sam’s feet.

Soon after Doug dragged it away, Sam felt a sudden spray of first cold, then warming water from the shower head hitting his upper chest and running down his body. While the sudden cold had shocked him, the warm water began to feel good. Before he could start relaxing though, he jumped as a sharp blast of water hit his rear. Doug used the powerful stream from the hose he held and sliced through the caked feces still trying to cling to Sam’s skin.

Sam flinched as he turned, trying to avoid stepping in the pieces of shit blasted off his bottom. Thankfully it was washed away quickly by the stream of water into the drain. The brown stream of water began turning clear as Sam’s bottom was freed more and more from the embrace of his own poop.

Once Doug was convinced he’d done as much with the hose as he could, he picked up a cloth, soaped it and approached his charge. Sam felt the cloth course across his body, under his armpits and down his legs. He flinched as the cloth then approached his crotch, wiped around his penis and scrotum and then disappeared to be felt on his backside and invading the crack leading to the little hole which had betrayed and dirtied him.

As disgusting as it felt to be washed by another man – at that, a man who had kidnapped him - at least he began to feel clean. Now he almost reveled as Doug approached once more with a cloth lathered thickly. The odor alerted him somewhat and the start of a slight burning sensation a little more. He wrinkled his nose trying to determine what the odor might reveal but he’d never smelled this smell before.

After lathering him from the neck down except for his arms, Doug allowed Sam’s arms to be lowered so that he could lather them as well. Sam felt the continuing feeling from the lather and his nose was still irritated by the odor. It wasn’t, however, until Doug approached with a clean wet cloth and began wiping Sam’s chest that he began to realize what was happening. The cloth was wiping away the soapy lather but was also cutting a wide swath through the light body hair of his chest.

Sam could only gasp silently into his gag and look on helplessly as his body hair, then the hair on his arms and legs disappeared. Finally the wet cloth began to reveal a completely hairless diaper area. Sam looked down to see not a speck of pubic hair remaining.

Another application of lather, more wiping with the wet cloth and finally a good hosing off and rinse from the shower head, and Doug began roughly drying Sam’s now hairless body. When he was done, he picked up the leg irons and fastened them back onto his captive. Next he lowered, then released the ceiling chain.

Sam was not at all happy, but not totally surprised to be led into an adjoining room only to be prodded onto a low padded table highlighted by a pile of white cloth. With his bottom resting on the pile of cloth, his handcuffs were attached to the top of the table and one at a time his ankles were strapped to the bottom of the table. Next, the leg irons were removed.

While he had no experience at all with babies, Sam knew what was happening as Doug smoothed in sweet smelling baby oil on all the skin of Sam’s diaper area then shook clouds of equally sweet smelling baby powder. When the thick cloth of the diaper was drawn up between his legs, he marveled at the thickness of it and how it pushed his legs out. The cloth was tightened against his stomach as Doug pinned the cloth firmly at each side of the diaper.

Sam felt even more humiliated in the cloth diaper than he did with the disposable, but his spirits fell even lower as Doug produced a voluminous piece of plastic. His ankles were released one at a time to accept the leg hole of his new plastic baby pants. He felt the elastic of the legs tighten as the pants were drawn up over the cloth diaper. Once they were firmly in place, he felt the waist tighten until he heard a small click.

“There you go. Your little plastic panties are locked on now. You won’t be getting them off until I take them off. Now for your little hands. We don’t want them getting in any trouble, do we?”

Sam felt something slip over his fingers and onto his right hand. Whatever it was felt like a thick thumb-less mitten. A sound similar to the click of the lock on his new diaper pants announced that this mitt was not coming off soon either. As he felt its mate slip onto his left hand, he discovered that he could not flex his fingers at all. Sam didn’t even bother to think why his restraints were so redundant; he only knew how humiliating it was to be diapered and so restrained. Doug’s words and the tone of his voice only added to his misery. These thoughts echoed in his mind as he was released from the table and led away.

[diaper24/7]

Text to hard to ready need bold or something.

[baby-brian]

Text to hard to ready need bold or something.

Zoom in your browser or copy/paste the text...

[diaperpt]

Sorry about the type size. I supposed I could change it here. In my copy it's 14 pt.

Chapter Seven: Progress and Regress

One floor down, Linda was actually enjoying the meal she’d been given. It was a tasty vegetable soup and a tuna sandwich. She’d been given a choice of beverage and was sipping her favorite herbal tea as she finished the last bite of the sandwich. After all, even a condemned prisoner was given a last meal of their choice.

She’d watched TV most of the morning – there was a complete selection of cable TV channels including HBO, Showtime and a variety of On Demand movies and other selections. She’d found a shelf of books in a built-in bookcase in the living room of the apartment and had begun reading a novel by one of her favorite authors.

This was her second day in this apartment and she’d grown tired of pacing back and forth in the room, alternately staring out the living room window, then pacing more and staring out the bedroom window. Each window offered a similar view; rolling lawn with a variety of scattered trees leading to a far away border of trees.

The high walls topped with razor wire were beyond her vision. They wouldn’t be needed for any of the charges here as the security of all the rooms and in fact, the entire building was so redundant that escape from Alcatraz would have been easier. They were meant as a deterrent to the prying eyes of outsiders as well as the security of those within.

Her fear for the future and her desire to be free and in her own home did not fade, but she began to feel a little more at ease and decided she might as well make the most of her captivity. How many times had she wished she could go off to some hotel and spend days just reading and watching TV? She tried to convinced herself and yet wondered if somehow she was being punished for those wishes. As active as her thoughts were, she was gradually becoming strangely calm.

What she didn’t know was that her acceptance was not so unexplainable, but almost entirely due to the combination of drugs administered surreptitiously in her food and drink. What she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her – and indeed, her fear of being hurt had begun to fade.

Meanwhile, back upstairs and down the hall, Jim had entered Bob’s cell and introduced him to the all-but-forgotten feel of diapers. Bob had squirmed as the feeding gag was forced into his mouth and began to fulfill its duty of supplying him with the drugged, milky formula. He’d screamed into the gag – even more than Sam had – as his clothing was sliced off his body leaving him naked and vulnerable. Bob at first had refused to cooperate in the diapering process until the light sedative injected into his bottom began to take effect.

Once he was fully diapered and Jim had withdrawn, Bob was too groggy to be any more than slightly surprised, as he wet the diaper. Soon he was giving in to the full effects of the sedative.

Over the course of the next few days, the three inmates of this former psychiatric institute slipped neatly further into their places. Meanwhile, Doug had found Molly, only 20 years old, who had used a fake id to buy drinks on a night away from classes at Boston University. Her friend Lois had returned from the ladies room amazed that Molly had disappeared. Too afraid to let anyone know she’d helped Molly obtain the id or to let on they’d been out drinking illegally it was days before she confessed to the Dean of Students. By then it was far too late for Molly.

She had been brought to the former institute and placed in exactly the same cell that Linda had occupied not that many days before.

By the following week, Sam had been introduced to the intermediate area and was wetting and messy his diapers almost casually, though not without some disgust. The locking plastic panties and locking mitts remained in place, but the handcuffs and leg irons had been removed. Sam did not sleep in a normal bed now, but in an oversized crib with heavy metal bars stretching across the top as well as the sides.

The drugs being given him made him close to a zombie and so the feeding gag had been removed. At mealtime, he’d been taught to hold his own baby bottle and suck down his heavily drug-laced formula while he sat confined in an adult sized high chair. His random mumblings were those of a child due to the chemicals which made it impossible for him to move his lips and tongue correctly to form words. For long periods of time, he would mindlessly suck on the adult sized pacifier placed in his mouth by his captors.

His appearance matched his new demeanor. The hair on his head had been cut clean and only peach fuzz showed. This fuzz however was more than his totally smooth and hairless body could boast.

The young man barely realized the difference between his previous condition of being strapped down to the bed and now being left free, albeit, within the adult size locked crib cage. The locking top was largely left in place while the locking side was simply swung open to allow the required diaper changes. Every other day, Doug and Jim would escort him to a bathroom equipped with a semi sunken tub where he would be allowed to soak before being thoroughly cleaned. Chemicals in the water continued to work at destroying the hair follicles below his neck. The boy had become very docile and manageable, thanks to the drugs, and had to be escorted by both Jim and Doug more for his own safety than for any reason of security.

As for Bob, he was progressing well, if not happily, in his own diaper training. He had been left in disposable diapers and strapped to his bed for a couple days longer than Sam had for no particular reason. He had messed his diapers several times and was feeling total humiliation.

Chapter Eight: More Independence

Linda heard the now familiar sound of her apartment door opening. Though on a level of understanding deep within her she knew she was locked in and helpless, she tried to think pleasant thoughts and referred to this place now as ‘her apartment.’ It helped separate her from the reality of the situation and to accept the supervision and control of Jim and Doug.

When she noticed that Jim did not have her dinner tray in his hands, she was slightly surprised. “Oh, I thought you’d be bringing my dinner. Isn’t it time yet?” she said pleasantly. Once she’d said that, her mind jumped to negative thoughts – what did this change in routine mean? What was to happen now?

She felt a little better as Jim answered, “It’s time for you to take a step forward.”

He went to one of the two locked doors, slid a key into the lock and soon opened the door. “This is your kitchen. Let me show you.”

Linda followed Jim into this new room and allowed herself to be amazed at the well stocked refrigerator and open pantry closet, the electric range, the sink and compact dishwasher and taking up one entire side of the room, a full size washer and dryer.

“This is yours now. You can plan and prepare your own meals here. Twice a week, we’ll collect a grocery list from you first thing in the morning and by that evening, you’ll have everything you’ve asked for – of course, within reason. You’ll also take on the task of washing your own clothes,” he said.

Linda came close to beaming at the thought of this additional freedom. She’d largely given in to the thought of her captivity and continued to be grateful that she hadn’t been hurt, let alone molested or raped. And yet, she almost shuddered with what he said next.

“Your baby will be here in the morning. Set your alarm clock for 6:00 am. We’ll be bringing your baby in by 7:00. Let me show you baby’s room now so you can get familiar with it.”

He took another key from his ring of keys and opened the final door in the main room of the apartment. He swung it open to reveal a small, bright room dominated by what Linda saw as a huge, oversized crib. The bright chrome bars gleamed as she marveled at its size and obvious strength. And why the bars across the top?

Only Jim’s movement caused her eyes to shift to a long low piece of furniture. The top featured a large padded surface printed with a pastel print of baby characters. Below, shelves held stacks and stacks of white cloth accompanied by several neat rows of large plastic rectangles. At her eye level, above this piece of furniture was a shelf containing a large bottle of Johnson’s baby oil, a large container of Johnson’s baby powder, a huge tub of baby wipes, a few tubes of what she’d find later to be ointments, rash creams and salve. A small open jar held many sets of diaper pins, with pink, blue and white plastic heads.

Her eyes becoming more and more glazed as she looked to the tall dresser next to this furniture. Jim had opened the draws to display a selection of huge baby-print plastic pants in a variety of colors and patterns. One stack was all pull-on style and another stack all side-snap. Another drawer held piles of material in pastel colors, both plain and prints. Jim took out and held up a man-sized onesie – its snap crotch hanging down as if waiting patiently to be put on a very large baby. Other drawers held a supply of sleepers and other pj’s. There were shorts and elastic waist pants with snaps up the inside of the legs and through the crotch.

Linda’s mind was being overwhelmed by the furnishings for an oversized infant. Faintly amid the buzz of her own thoughts she remembered the words, “You’re going to learn how to be a mother…you’re going to have a baby of your own to take care of.”

She didn’t even hear the rest of what Jim said to her. It didn’t really matter; she’d find out soon enough.

I hope this size is better.

[diaperpt]

Chapter Nine: Backsliding and New Adjustments

By this time, Molly had been transferred from the small cell upstairs to an apartment furnished much the same as Linda’s on the same floor but further down the hall. Though almost neighbors, they were never to meet nor would they hear as much as any sort of sound coming from the other apartment.

Molly had had a more difficult time getting used to her captivity. She hadn’t been able to appreciate the apartment as much as Linda had and in fact had tried to smash the dining room chair through the window. Of course the window was unbreakable, but this action led to Molly being strapped back into the cot of her former cell. She was force-fed through the same system as the men had been. The drugs introduced into her system caused her to have horrible, vivid hallucinations. Those drugs were followed by more which relieved the hallucinations but replaced them with anxiety. At one point, she was kept awake for forty eight hours straight during which she was taken from her cot and restrained spread eagle against the wall for eight hours at a time.

Weaned from the drugs, she then slept for twelve hours. Not long after she awoke, she saw the brothers looming over her.

“Are you ready to behave, Molly? You must realize that this was a very light punishment compared to what you might face in the future. We don’t want to hurt you; we simply expect you to cooperate. You should know that if you do cooperate, you will eventually be released and allowed to return to your life. Now, nod your head if you will behave.”

For fear of the worse punishment, Molly submitted and nodded her head. At least at that moment, she sincerely meant it. She did not want to go through the experience she had just suffered ever again.

Over the next days she was released from the cot with handcuffs and leg-irons in the cell and then on the fourth day, dressed in a new set of clothes and returned to the apartment. This time she decided to be more docile and cooperative. Of course the drugs in her food helped her achieve that state, but Molly barely realized that.

Chapter Ten: The New Arrival

Linda gasped as the door to her apartment was opened. What she saw was a fully grown young man crawling into the apartment. He was sucking on a pacifier and was dressed in what she barely knew to be a onesie. She could see plastic sticking out the legs of the onesie and the huge padding of his bottom betrayed his obviously diapered condition. His hands were encased in leather mitts, locked tightly at his wrists.

She stood in shocked amazement as Doug entered the apartment behind this spectacle of a man. He seemed to revel in her distress.

“Meet your baby, Linda. Isn’t he cute? Let’s show him his nursery, shall we?”

In spite of her introduction to the nursery the previous day, the sight of this baby – this man – this…

“What do you mean, my baby? I know you said I’d be taking care of a baby, but this is no baby! He’s a grown man! Wha…wha…”

Doug interrupted, “Oh, but look closely. Your baby has no body hair at all, he’s happily sucking on a pacifier and he’s even wet his diaper. Of course he’s a baby.”

“But…but…this is sick! You don’t really mean for me to treat an adult like a baby. This is…”

Again Doug broke in to her stumbling statement, “Oh, but he’s no longer an adult. And yes, we really do mean for you to take care of this baby. You see, that’s why you were brought here. You will feed him, change him, play with him, bathe him; all the things that a Mommy does for her child.”

“But, I can’t do that! I…I…”

Panic filled her voice. She had gradually gotten used to her life of captivity in the apartment. The words spoken long before about her becoming a mother had held little meaning for her. Yes, when she saw the nursery for the first time yesterday, fear had begun to creep in. Not even the high level of anti-anxiety medication given her relieved her concerns. It all seemed so ridiculous – the adult size baby furniture and the clothes; diapers, onesies, and other outfits all man-sized but baby-styled. It couldn’t be real. Now seeing this overgrown baby in front of her, it was all too real and thoughts of caring for such a being terrified her.

Doug’s tone and words were of no comfort, “Oh, but you can and you will. As for your inexperience, no woman comes fully prepared to be a mother. It takes time and practice to become a good mother. And you will become a good mother. You two will be closely monitored and if we find you mistreat your baby or even fail to provide adequate care, developing a loving bond with him, you will find yourself very sorry.”

“But…”

Doug just continued as if she might have actually been excited to begin caring for the ‘baby,’ “He has learned to crawl up into his crib, into his high chair and onto his changing table when you lead him there and tell him. Use very basic language with him as you would with a baby.

“He won’t be able to stand up, since he will constantly be fed with medications that cause him to lose balance if he tries. And don’t expect him to talk. He will gradually develop some basic speech and be able to say some basic words, but for now he can only babble. This is not a function of his mind. He is fully aware and has full memory of his past and of his training here. He knows exactly who he was, but he also is well aware he has no choice left in his life.”

Linda cringed as her mind went into overload. She began to cry. “You can’t be serious. I don’t want to do this. I can’t. …I…I won’t!” she said angrily as tears streamed down her face.

“Well, now Linda, let me tell you something,” Doug said, finally reacting to Linda in a stern but emotionless voice. “You will be this baby’s mother. You will do a good job. If you don’t, your first infraction will cause your baby to be taken away temporarily and you, yourself will be put in diapers and locked in a crib for three days. This will give you a sense of what your baby is feeling. Your second infraction will mean baby treatment for three weeks. Now remember that we promised your ultimate release with your cooperation. That cooperation means taking care of your baby and learning to be a good mother. If you fail in this simple task, ultimately you will be relieved of your duties as a mother. That, however, would mean that you would then become a baby yourself to be mothered by another candidate. I don’t think this is too much to ask. Do you? If you do, just say so and we’ll relieve you of your duties immediately.”

Linda sank back into the sofa. She felt dizzy and her head seemed ready to explode. She literally wanted to blend into the fabric of the sofa and disappear. Doug’s words burned into her consciousness. She had no real choice. She’d already studied some of the security measures of the apartment and understood fully that escape was not even a reasonable thought. She was being treated fairly well, considering that she was a prisoner of these insane brothers. The expectation of her mothering this overgrown infant was incredible, but she’d come to realize the brothers carried through on their promises…and their threats. The overgrown baby was still sucking on the pacifier on hands and knees in this, her new apartment. He hadn’t seemed to be bothered in the slightest by this conversation, if he heard or understood it at all. At least this still could be her apartment if she continued to cooperate. If not… she couldn’t even imagine herself in the position of this poor creature before her.

Her stare was fixed firmly on the baby as Doug repeated his statement, “Well, Linda, is it too much to ask? Or do you want to become the baby yourself? You really do have a choice.”

Linda knew it was no choice and all and so she looked up at his eyes and dejectedly forced the words out of her mouth, “OK. I’ll do it. I’ll do what you want.”

Doug smiled wryly and said, “Say the words. Say you will be his Mommy.”

She hesitated a little and then said weakly, “Yes…OK…I’ll be…I’ll be… his Mommy.”

“Well, Linda, it seems your baby has a very wet diaper. What are you going to do about that?” he questioned.

“I…I guess I’ll…I’ll have to…to change his diaper,” she stumbled, not believing her own words.

“OK, then. You’ll need to get him into the nursery and up on the changing table, won’t you?” He paused and added, “Well, call to him. Lead him to the changing table.”

Linda frowned, but awkwardly forced out the words, “Baby, come with me. Follow me, baby.”

She reminded herself more of someone calling to a dog than a mother with a baby. Still, as she moved toward the nursery door, this man – she still couldn’t think of him as a real baby – crawled after her.

[diaperpt]

Chapter Eleven: Change Is Not Easy

She led him to the changing table, not knowing quite what to do next.

Doug broke the awkward silence, “Tell him to get up on the changing table. Just say, ‘up’ and then steady him under his arms. Remember, he can’t stand on his own.”

“Up, baby. Up on the table.”

The baby began awkwardly getting to his feet and Linda steadied him.

“Be careful, Linda. You’ve got to steady him or he’ll fall down. Now help him turn and sit, then ease him down onto the table.”

The baby seemed to know what to do and Linda had only to help steady him as he sat and then reclined on the changing table. He continued to suck on the pacifier.

Linda paused and then looked to Doug, “I’ve changed real babies before, but I can’t lift his legs up like I would a baby’s. What do I do?”

“He’ll respond to simple commands like ‘leg’s up’ and ‘lift your bottom.’ Now get his plastic panties off first, then get a new pair of panties and clean diapers ready.”

“Yeah, I know that much. I have done babysitting before and I’ve changed my older sister’s baby. I just don’t know how I can do it on someone this big,” she said. It was slowly sinking in that she would have to change this diaper not only now, but on a regular basis from now on.

“Go ahead, Linda,” said Doug. “Just like a baby; he is a baby. Just change his diaper.”

First, she reached squeamishly between the baby’s legs and unsnapped the onesie, before working it up the baby’s body and away from his diaper area. As Linda began struggling with the oversized plastic panties, she noticed the chain around the top of the panties and the tiny padlock binding the chain tightly around the baby’s waist.

Linda looked at Doug quizzically.

“Yes, here is the key,” said Doug. “We’ve had his plastic panties locked on so he won’t try to take them off himself. You should keep him in locking panties for at least another week or so until he becomes accustomed to being your baby. We can then begin to experiment with normal plastic pants, then removing his mitts, and maybe even leaving his crib unlocked. It all depends on how well you can bond with him and make him feel comfortable. That will be your job. His job will be to behave and obey his Mommy. We will judge any failures and decide who is responsible and therefore who would face consequences.”

She fumbled a little before she was able to fit the tiny key into the lock and release it. After tugging at the plastic panties for a moment, she finally said, “Lift, baby.”

The baby’s bottom lifted into the air and with a little more struggle, Linda worked the plastic panties over the bulk of the wet cloth diaper. She worked them down the baby’s legs and as she did, she was surprised that the baby seemed to understand and cooperate in the changing process. His legs lifted slightly off the padding of the table, allowing Linda to slide the plastic pants off over the baby’s feet.

Doug pointed to a clothes basket, saying, “Put them in there for now. You’ll need to rinse them out and hang them to dry. You’ve got as many pair as you could possibly use. As I said, you’ll use the locking ones for now. Later, you can use normal ones, both pull on and snap on pants. No matter which one’s you use, you’ll want to rinse them soon after taking them off.”

Linda now stared at the safety pins holding the very wet diaper around baby’s waist. She grimaced as she realized how wet the diaper was.

Almost in answer to her unspoken question, Doug commented, “Don’t worry. He’s been examined carefully and has no disease which could be transmitted to you. It’s perfectly safe for you to change his wet diapers – and the poopy ones, as well.”

Linda didn’t need the additional reminder that she was to care for this baby and the inevitabilities that meant. She would have to do it, but she didn’t have to enjoy it. Finally, she forced herself to begin working at the diaper pins.

When she’d unpinned the diaper and pulled the wet diaper down, she was visibly shocked to see that this…baby…had no pubic hair at all. Still in disbelief, she forced herself to tell baby to lift and slipped the wet diaper out and away from the table, then awkwardly placed a clean diaper underneath. She’d recognized the diaper pail and lifted the cover to deposit the used diaper into it. She turned back to the baby and had him lift again to even out the diaper. As she did, it sank in again that this baby had absolutely no body hair. She shivered at the thought of what they’d done to this man; how they’d made him look and act like a real baby. Gathering herself to face what she had to do out of self-preservation, she returned to the task at hand.

Taking a baby wipe from the container on the shelf, she began delicately wiping around his diaper area. She hesitated for a moment and Doug interjected, “Go ahead, Linda. It’s baby’s peepee. You’ve got to clean it and clean around it. Get into the cracks and crevices well or you’ll be dealing with diaper rash. Remember; he’s only a baby.”

The ridiculousness of that statement sailed right past her as she steeled herself to clean this person’s penis and ball sack. She knew she had to do it, but when his penis started to stiffen, she jerked away.

“If that becomes a problem at all, we’ll take care of it. He’s a baby and while little baby boys do sometimes become erect, it may well be a problem with this little baby. For now, just go ahead. Finish cleaning him and get the diaper on.”

Doug’s comment didn’t help much. Linda didn’t want to deal with an erect penis on this baby, but she finished wiping the front and back sides of his diaper area. She paid attention to his butt crack and the cracks of his legs, wiping them clean. Pulling the front of the huge cloth diaper up between his legs, she had to have the baby lift one more time to get the diaper positioned just right. She had to pin the diaper three times before she was convinced it wouldn’t slip off. Finally with a nod of approval from Doug, she took a clean pair of plastic pants and pulled them up the baby’s legs. With another lift or two, she managed to work them into place.

After straightening the plastic pants as much as she could, she pulled the chain tight and secured the tiny padlock. It occurred to her that with the mitts on his hands, there would be no chance for this baby to remove his diaper. It was not hers to question though and so she pulled down the front of the onesie, pulled up the long panel from the rear and snapped the snaps. Having completed this task, Linda was mentally exhausted and happy the ordeal was over.

“Linda,” said Doug, “make sure you keep track of the key for his plastic panties. The same key works for his mitts as well. Once a day, you’re expected to remove one mitt at a time and rub baby lotion on his hands so they don’t get chapped in his mitts. You must not leave them off until we tell you it’s OK.”

Still in a state of disbelief over everything happening, she tried to absorb all the instructions given her, so that she would not be punished for some infraction that the brothers might even imagine.

Doug continued now, “Baby usually goes for a nap about now. You’ll have to get him onto the schedule you feel right for him, but right now you ought to get him into his crib. Let me show you how this crib works.”

Linda knew what she was expected to do. “Down, baby. Nap. Crib now, baby.”

She helped him ease back onto the floor and watched him crawl toward the crib. Doug reached over to a padlock fastening the top bars of the crib to the front which appeared to be two separate pieces hinged on each end. He dialed a combination and removing the lock, slipped up a bar previously held closed by the lock. He then swung open the two front pieces of the crib.

The baby began crawling up into the crib and Linda quickly reached to steady him. The plastic undercover crinkled as the baby rolled in and onto his back.

“Swing the front closed now with the bar held up. Once you feel the front is closed, let the bar slip into place and make sure the lock is secure. Baby’s little fingers no longer have the ability to grip anything with any strength and his mitts are additional protection. Even if he could see the lock to dial a combination, he still wouldn’t have the coordination to actually move the dial without the mitts. With the mitts, it is all the more impossible. You must remember to lock the crib every time, however. While it may seem we’ve gone overboard in our security measures, it is to help the baby understand his place. It gives the baby a feeling of security. If you don’t handle every bit of the security measures completely and correctly, we’ll notice. This is part of your being a good Mommy. Don’t forget that you must be a good Mommy.”

Linda followed the instructions carefully and this first time had a little trouble getting the front sections of the crib bars lined up just in the right way. The clanking of the crib bars sounded throughout her soul as she thought of this man-baby put into her care. Again putting these cares aside in favor of her own welfare, she worked the crib bars into position and noticed how the bar then slid easily into place. She secured and double checked the lock as she was told.

“Now baby needs a bottle of his formula to help him fall asleep. Let’s go get one from the kitchen. We’ve placed four or five in the refrigerator already and I’ll show you where the supplies are to make more. All baby’s medications are mixed in with the ingredients we’ve provided you. Of course we’ll be monitoring to make sure you’ve mixed his formula exactly as prescribed. Any infraction in mixing his formula – accidental or on purpose – is a very serious one and you will not be given second chances.”

Chapter Twelve: What’s In a Name?

Once in the kitchen, Doug showed her the supplies of bottles, nipples, formula and everything else she’d need to feed the baby. He gave Linda the combination to the padlock on the crib, which had letters on it instead of numbers. The combination was one she could easily remember; b-a-b-y. Doug explained that the baby didn’t need his bottles warmed and so Linda picked up the oversized bottle and began walking toward the nursery.

Doug reached out and touched her arm, saying “Wait a second, Linda. Before you give him his bottle, I think it’s time for you to name your baby.”

Linda looked at him in shock, “What do you mean, name the baby? Doesn’t he already have a name? You want me to give him a name when he already has one?”

“But Linda,” he explained, “he is no longer that person. He’s your baby now. Parents name their babies. Any name he was known by before is no longer appropriate. And by naming him, he will be more yours. It will be easier to bond with him when you’ve given him a name.”

As she stood there in amazement, she took time to realize as well that if she didn’t do as she was asked, this would be a strike against her. She hated the thought of being a Mommy to this poor manipulated captive. She couldn’t even imagine caring for him as a baby in any real way. At the same time, she had feelings of sympathy, pity, and a certain empathy paired with her fears of what would happen if she didn’t please the men who had kidnapped her. She would do what she had to.

She paused for a moment more and softly said, “Well, if I have to, I guess I’ll call him Edward. That was my grandfather’s name and it’s at least a link to my real life.”

Doug smiled his usual emotionless smile – he wasn’t being pleasant, he was amused. He said, “Linda, you can call him whatever you want. But you might as well not try to keep any links to what you called your ‘real life.’ THIS is your real life now. If you’re good enough to prove yourself a good enough mother, you’ll have a crack at it away from here. But make no mistake; THIS is your real life.”

Although her soul was only further wounded by this reminder, she began to move toward the nursery. She decided that the only thing to do was to play her role – act the part that these crazy brothers expected of her. She couldn’t reverse what they had done to this poor man, but she could make his life a little more pleasant. Working at that might even buoy her own spirit.

She reached the bottle through the steel bars of the crib and said, “Here Baby Eddie, here’s your bottle.” She pulled the pacifier gently out of his mouth as the baby reached for the bottle. As the baby plopped the nipple into his mouth and began nursing the contents, she continued, “If you’re going to be my baby, your name is going to be Edward. Do you understand, Edward? I’ll call you Eddie. Is that OK? Hmmm, baby Eddie?”

She made a show of putting her hand through the bars again and stroking the peach fuzz of baby Eddie’s hair. A little purr of approval and a slight turn of his head told Linda that the baby was at least OK with this. Doug turned and left the apartment. As Linda looked in at her new charge; her new baby, she heard the click of the lock. Tears began rolling from her eyes; how was she going to manage this? She wasn’t ready to be a mother to a real baby, and in spite of what Doug had said, she certainly wasn’t prepared to deal with this.

Her emotions were on a rollercoaster. She worked hard to absorb all that had been forced on her. She was grateful that she hadn’t been raped or physically hurt in any way. She’d grown almost comfortable in this apartment, despite her captivity. Now faced with caring for an adult baby thrust upon her, she was in shock and disbelief; on one level she was repulsed by the thought of treating this man like a baby and being complicit in keeping him as a baby. On another level, she was well aware of the risks of not doing what she’d been told.

She looked down to see Baby Eddie as he continued to nurse on the bottle, rocking back and forth slightly as if to comfort himself. The crinkle of the plastic under-sheet gave a rhythmic sound to the regular sound of Eddie’s sucking and swallowing his formula. She barely heard the click of the outside apartment door as Doug left. Linda slowly became somehow mesmerized by this strange picture and stood there until Eddie’s eyes slipped shut and the bottle fell from his hands.

Linda picked it up, took it to the kitchen, rinsed it out and returned to the living room. She sat in a chair where she could look into the nursery and could hear any sound Eddie might make. She picked up a book and read without knowing what she read; instead she listened to the rhythmic breathing of baby Eddie interrupted occasionally by a little sigh and wondered again how she could cope. The words “THIS is your real life” echoed in her mind.

[diaperpt]

Chapter 13: Careful Planning Yields Results

The brothers sat in the office they had established for appearance sake. It was furnished as an office out of the 1950’s might be. The old, black corded phone sat on a corner of the desk in the center of the room, its old fashioned dial ready to call a local number with only four digits. Neither of the boys was old enough to know that; they only knew it fit in with the ‘museum’ they had wanted to establish. The phone was merely a prop.

The business world thought the two were crazy when they purchased this huge former mental institution far out in the countryside of western Massachusetts. The premise was that they were going to refurbish the institution back to its original condition partly as a museum and partly as an experiment in the treatment of mentally ill patients. They tried to use the reality that too many mentally ill people were out roaming the streets not being cared for. Worse, many of those who refused treatment were sick enough to be a danger to society. Their stated goal was to experiment with policies in between the old restrictive treatment prevalent up through the 1960’s and the new, but obviously failed policies stressing the rights of patience to refuse treatment. Of course that would only be a front.

No one anywhere was surprised when every application made was turned down flat by every government agency whose permission and approval were needed to even consider this experiment. Quietly the boys allowed these requests to fade. People in the area began to forget the seemingly outrageous proposals, and were afraid to say anything for fear of alienating two rich, powerful and influential business men. The town, after all, was being paid property tax finally after being state land for decades. After six months, even random mumblings about the project was old news not worth mention.

The huge former mental facility isolated as it was, yet close enough to the Mass Pike so people could come and go with little chance of notice, began to undergo a transformation. People in the area knew these mega-rich but seemingly eccentric businessmen had bought the property and knew the men were up to something. Perhaps they were simply going to turn it into a personal mansion. The building certainly was stately enough.

It was not out of character then as construction trucks appeared coming and going, followed by trailer trucks full of equipment being delivered. Because of its location and because the first thing restored was the wall encircling the property, people noticed little of the traffic and had no vantage point to see the main building of the old facility.

All workers were paid double the normal rates for their time and their willingness to sign agreements of silence when it came to exactly what equipment was brought in or how it had been set up. The workers had been imported from the far west of the US and when done were returned to their homes. As part of their willingness to work and their required discretion, they each were given leads for high paying jobs back in their home areas – all arranged through corporations owned by the brothers.

Construction of the apartments was done first. Former day-rooms were used as a base, then walls were torn down and rebuilt to allow for the other rooms. Then the first floor offices as well as front and back entrances were refurbished according to the brothers’ detailed plans. After that, there was a restoration of a wing of cells under the guise of creating a museum of mental institutions. The workers didn’t seem to notice or care that the specifications kept the outward appearance of the 1950’s, but included security measures of the 21^st century.

With actual construction finished, the apartments were painted, carpeted and decorated, except for the nurseries. Once everything else was in place and ready, a small, discrete and even higher paid group furnished and equipped the nurseries.

It had cost the brothers a huge amount of money, but put only a tiny dent into their fortune. In fact, it really only affected their income from the massive fortune. They didn’t care; it was well worth it. Now they were well underway and reveling in what was happening upstairs.

They talked about their acquisitions to this point and the suitability of them to their needs and desires. The process of selection was well thought out, carefully researched and carried out to perfection. They had learned how to hack into even the most sophisticated computer systems and research the personnel files of businesses in and around Boston. The women they sought were to be between the ages of 19 and 23. The men could be anywhere from 18 to 26. They preferred men and women on the younger end of the scale and perused the records carefully. Once possible candidates were obtained, they were further screened and rated. Men of slender build and youthful appearance were important. One criterion for both male and female was regular exercise routines – preferably working out at a gym on a regular basis. They wanted the candidates healthy and fit, yet not too strong either.

While being active and visible in their careers and private lives might seem to have ruled people out, this did not automatically eliminate their chance of being selected. As long as not too many people disappeared at once and as long as the brothers varied the style and timing of abductions, there was little chance that they could be traced. Of course, the better known and well connected a candidate was, the more fuss would be made over their disappearance. The brothers had become masters of disguise however and used vehicles rented with false identifications in case someone happened to notice one of the abductions.

At the same time, the brothers took just long enough to establish a tiny relationship with the candidate and so the removal of a candidate never looked suspicious. The authorities could look all they wanted for an abductor who never really existed.

One young man had disappeared on a job interview with a company that didn’t exist except for the tip given by his new friend in the local bar. The office had been rented and furnished for a week by a non-existent and untraceable company.

A 20 year old woman was on a walk in her quiet neighborhood when she stopped to help an elderly gentleman who seemed to be confused and stumbling about. At first people around her looked admirably at her helpfulness, but no one noticed when they turned into an alley a block away.

Another woman, 22 years old, was seen walking her dog as a mid-aged man, well dressed, handsome but balding struck up a conversation with her and walked down the street for two blocks. She was never seen again by her family or friends.

John was now upstairs in a cell yelling helplessly into his feeding gag, thickly diapered and strapped to his cot. Ellen had been released from her cot several days ago, but had been returned to the cot for misbehavior. It would take two weeks to break her and then more pharmaceutically than anything else. Still, she would become a suitable Mommy. The brothers thought that Kathy was much easier to train. Her basic personality was one of subservience and compliance. She was established in her apartment within the first week of her stay.

And so it went. For now, the brothers had taken in as many as they dared. Taking too many from the streets in and around Boston was, in spite of their care, risky at best. Further, they needed to supervise and monitor closely both the new babies and their mommies.

Chapter 14: What Does Resistance Yield?

Jim opened the cell door and walked over to the figure bound firmly to the cot but now squirming and screaming into the uncompromising gag.

“Ellen, you don’t seem to be cooperating. Why is that? We are trying to treat you well. We feed you and would let you up if you’d only let us. It isn’t my fault that we’ve had to diaper you and keep you strapped down. That episode yesterday told me that you need more time to think out what I’ve explained to you.”

Ellen was turning red with rage. She realized that even though the gag captured all the sound of her screams, she had made herself hoarse. Her throat was sore and although whatever they fed her through the gag was cool and soothed her throat some, it didn’t make up for being kidnapped. She wasn’t going to give in to this crazy man. She would resist at all costs. No matter what they did to her body, they couldn’t kidnap her mind and her will.

“Well, now, I guess I’ll give you your dinner now. I’ll be back to change your diaper. I really would suggest that you give up your foolish behavior and cooperate with us. We’d all be much happier for it, now wouldn’t we? That’s alright though, Ellen. I know you’ll come around eventually.”

He placed the huge bag of liquid on the hook about Ellen’s head and attached the tube from it to the gag. Although still conscious, Ellen’s eyes began glazing over within three minutes. The drugs she’d been given were powerful. If nothing else would convince her to cooperate, the carefully prepared cocktail of chemicals now flowing into her body would gradually erode her will to resist. She would become compliant. It was only a matter of time.

The bag had been emptied and Ellen’s blank eyes had finally shut before Jim approached and changed the diaper of his uncooperative charge. Strapped down as she was, it was easier for Jim to manipulate her into a disposable diaper and as a precaution, put her into snap-front plastic pants. While the diaper and plastic pants were functional in that Jim did not dare allow her up to use the toilet at this point, they also served to humiliate her and gradually break her spirit. As Jim reviewed the security tapes, he could tell when she was about to wet. She would struggle for a moment and then go still. A close-up view of her face showed a little bit of her anger and stubbornness turn into resigned embarrassment even through the haze of drugs.

And those drugs did have their effect as well, weakening her will to resist. Jim’s soft words lulled her gradually. After several more days, she was ready to be let up from the cot. The diaper was removed and under the careful supervision of both brothers, she was allowed to put on the panties and slacks she had worn before. The fact that they had been laundered for her didn’t impress her, but she was appreciative of being allowed up to dress and to use the toilet – albeit in front of her captors. There were remnants of pride, but what there was, was mainly in shards. Of course she was put back in both ankle and wrist restraints. That would continue until she was cooperative enough to be moved to her apartment.

I haven't had much comment either positive or negative. If people don't like it they generally just wander away and don't check back. In looking at the view count, I'm thinking that may be the case.

I am not fishing for compliments, but is it worth my time to continue adding to the story?

I've gotten my enjoyment out if it by writing it. Is there anyone else enjoying this?

Some people don't like to post at all, I understand. If you rather just send a brief message to me, I'd appreciate that as well. Thanks.

[abchris]

Well I really like it so far and you are pumping out chapters pretty fast! My kind of story! Keep up the good work...

Chris

[diaperpt]

Thanks for the compliments, Chris. I'm actually not turning out chapters fast - I know other people prefer to write, post, write and post, but I'd rather write the entire story and work on revisions before I start posting it. What I've found happens to me is that unless I'm careful, I have continuity issues. And while I respect a LOT of writers here, I've been frustrated too many times by stories that start off great but then are never finished. I'm not blaming anyone who writes - I do appreciate what they write. It's just that I'd prefer to post only when I'm relatively happy with the story myself.

I probably could still be making revisions to this story, but I have to pick a time to stop working on it. I just write until I'm happy with what I've written. I like to hear that others like what I've written and I'm glad that people do respond. Thanks!

Chapter 15: Catching Up On News

Bob had resisted being diapered and had to be kept strapped to his cot for a week. He had however been dragged only semi-conscious to the shower room. Now clean and hairless, he was in thick cloth diapers and locking diaper panties with locking mitts in place as well. Placed into his transition cell, he was given his formula and of course his own prescribed medications four times each day. The sedative included allowed either Jim or Doug to change his diapers without fear of resistance. Of course this was even more important when the diaper was not only wet but messy. Neither brother liked this chore, but it was a necessary part of the bigger picture.

They were so wealthy that they could have hired a few very discrete helpers. But not only were they cautious about who knew the secret of this redesigned facility, their own childhood experience of bad care-givers kept them from allowing the possibility of any kind of mistreatment of their carefully acquired subjects.

Molly had been in her apartment by herself for over a month now. Bob had been scheduled to become her baby, but the brothers were patient. Molly became more and more accustomed to her new life. She’d been allowed kitchen and laundry privileges and the brothers noted that she had actually been proud of the creative meals she made for herself. While it was a slight inconvenience, one of the brothers would have to do the grocery shopping at least as far away as Worcester in order to get some of the items Molly or Linda asked for. At times, when one of the brothers went to Boston for business, he might go to the farmer’s market for fresh produce or even into Chinatown for obscure items unattainable elsewhere. Not only was she a cook, she became proud of the cleanliness of her apartment and continually asked for more books to read.

Kathy had been allowed into her apartment as well, but while she was compliant at first, apartment living didn’t seem to sit well with her. She spent much of her days pacing the floor, staring out the window or sobbing on her bed. She indicated no interest at all in preparing her own meals even when Doug had explained that this was to be allowed. Her meals were left half-finished many times and Doug noticed that she had been losing weight.

Doug finally confronted her. “You were doing so well, Kathy. But now, you just are not cooperating. We’ve given you a lovely apartment and have offered full use of the kitchen. You’ve not made one meal for yourself and we’ve had to throw out almost all of what we’d stocked for you originally. You ignore the wardrobe of clothes we’ve given you and sit around in sweats all day. We’ve fulfilled all our promises to you so far and will continue to, but we need to see some movement on your part.”

Kathy simply sat on the couch and stared at the floor.

Doug continued, “We can’t give you forever. You know what’s expected of you. Are we asking too much?”

Kathy looked up and glared into his eyes. Not even the drugs being given her were having the desired effect. Instead, she seemed to be spiraling downward.

“Kathy, we can’t have this. You’ve forced our hand. Let’s go.”

He pulled handcuffs out of his back pocket and though she made an effort to pull away, her efforts were futile. Jim entered the apartment and added leg irons. Practically dragging her, they began to take her from the apartment. Her whimpers grew in volume and intensity. When Doug had had enough of her screaming, he produced a gag and forced it into Kathy’s mouth, fastening the straps behind her head. The noise was muffled; her anger was not.

She continued to resist into the elevator and then down the hall to a waiting cell. Forced onto the cot and then strapped down, her resistance didn’t subside until she was firmly secured to the cot and the handcuffs and leg-irons removed. When she saw the surgical scissors come out and approach the hem of her skirt, she began squirming and screaming into her gag. Tears flooded down the sides of her cheeks and she squirmed so much that Doug produced a seldom used waist strap to help keep her still as he cut off her skirt, blouse, panties and bra. When she was finally completely naked, Jim produced a diaper.

As Jim taped the disposable onto her, Doug looked at her over her gag, saying, “If this is what you want, you can have it. We’re going to keep you here diapered for a week. You will be confined to your cot and fed only formula. You’ll be given plenty of that and other liquids several times a day and because of that, kept in a disposable covered by triple thick cloth diapers. You’re going to need them as the liquids will keep your bladder emptying. The formula is going to contain bulk and so you’ll be messing yourself often as well. We will take good care of you, but you will be left in wet and messy diapers until we judge it’s time to change you.”

By this time, Jim had pinned on the cloth diapers and had worked a huge pair of front-snap plastic pants under her as Doug continued, “Every couple days we’ll give you a chance. If you really think you can be ready to live in your apartment again, we will give you one more chance.”

The plastic pants had been snapped securely shut and the first of her frequent feedings started as the brothers turned away. Within five minutes, Kathy’s body calmed. She no longer tugged at her restraints and her eyes had glazed over. She was semi-awake as she felt her bladder release involuntarily. The warmth spread outward within the diaper, but because of the drugs it didn’t seem to matter. Part of her brain told her that this was disgusting, but she couldn’t make herself care. Her brain also told her that being fed formula was demeaning, but it was cool and she’d begun to like it. The involuntary flow into her mouth caused her to nurse on the feeding gag as if she was a baby drinking from a bottle, but that was OK too.

Baby Eddie actually was drinking from a bottle, but he’d been doing that for quite some time now. He’d been in this apartment for two weeks and he was getting used to the schedule. That didn’t mean he enjoyed it. The memory of solid food – good Italian food from Boston’s North End, shrimp Scampi from Legal Seafood, or a rib-eye steak – haunted him. The formula seemed to supply him with whatever nutrition he needed and he’d grown used to the taste, but he didn’t like it.

He wanted to express himself; to say something to this woman who was taking care of himself. Why couldn’t he form words? Why could he only make unintelligible sounds? He wanted to tell her what his real name was; that he didn’t belong here. His mind worked well on some levels, but on other levels, he was becoming more and more the baby.

Overall, his mind worked in a fuzzy kind of way. He remembered who he had been but for some reason, more and more he was living into the life of a baby. In spite of his memories, he would crawl compliantly into his crib. For some reason not clear to him, the sound of the crib bars locking felt good. The crinkling of the plastic sheet was a comforting sound. Nursing on a bottle or his pacifier as he rocked himself to sleep seemed natural and right. He actually felt a little nervous and out of sorts if he didn’t have either his bottle or pacifier in his mouth.

Mommy – that was all he knew her as – changed his diapers, brought his bottles, bathed him and put him in his crib. His life had become very small. Having to use diapers for all his eliminations bothered him. Even so, he was getting used to it and was getting to a point where he was peeing before he felt the need. Messing in his diapers was the worst and several mornings had found him messy as well as wet without him waking in the night. The reality began to sink in that he was becoming functionally incontinent. Even if he was ever released from captivity, would he ever regain control?

Linda was still disturbed by having to care for this adult baby, especially cleaning his messy diapers. Her gag reflex had begun to diminish when she unlocked and removed his plastic panties, then un-pinned his diapers. She was grateful for the latex gloves she’d been provided for such messes, but the idea of cleaning poop from a grown man, despite his baby looks, was quite unsettling.

She did what she had to do, though, and strangely enough had begun to feel a slight attachment to this pathetic being. His bath time was a time for her to wash him tenderly paying particular attention to keeping his diaper area clean. She’d gotten past the squeamish feeling of handling his genitals, as for the most part they had shriveled to a size more appropriate for a real baby. This also made diaper changes a little easier.

Once his clean diapers had been pinned on and his plastic panties put in place, she’d almost lovingly give him a hug before letting him down from the changing table. In the evenings before putting him in his crib for the night, she’d taken to having him lie across her lap to drink his nighttime bottle. She would talk to him gently as he looked up into her eyes. Yes, it was a very strange bond, but a strong one that was developing between this Mommy and Baby.

After a while, the brothers allowed her to put away the locking panties and the locking mitts. Baby Eddie seemed barely to notice or care. His Mommy took good care of him and he wanted to be a good baby for her.

Chapter 16: Surprise!

When John had been brought in, he’d reacted much the same as the others. He’d screamed and thrashed on the cot. His eyes had grown wide at the sight of the scissors shredding his clothes and his first wettings in his new diapers were as traumatic as they’d been for the others.

Where the other baby boys had taken weeks, however, within three days John had become passive and non-resisting. Jim had decided it would be safe to move him to the transition room and even at that was amazed at how easily John had been showered and his body hair removed. He was completely docile as he had been put into the thick cloth diapers and locking diaper panties. Although he wasn’t quite comfortable in the locking mitts, he slid into the crib of the transition room easily and curled up with his first baby bottle.

John lay in the crib thinking how good his thick diapers actually felt. He’d been petrified just like the others when he had been captured and brought here. Like them, he’d thought the worst and could never have imagined what the plan had been for him until it actually began to take shape.

Being put in diapers and restrained to the cot was a strange mix of feelings for him. He feared for his life. His mind raced with thoughts of horrible things happening to him. He had sobbed dramatically into the gag in his mouth as the formula began seeping into his mouth. It didn’t taste right. He had lost all control of the situation and he began losing hope of regaining any control.

The strange secret was that the horrible events of the last several days had actually long been a fantasy for him. John loved diapers. He’d worn them as a recreation since he was 14. Once he moved out of his parents’ house and into his own apartment, he’d expanded this hobby. He had actually spent several weekends with diaper loving Doms who had diapered him and locked him in a baby crib. In these situations, however, he had a safe-word and the knowledge that this was simply weekend recreation.

He’d loved those excursions, but had harbored a secret desire to know what it would be like to be really forced to wear and use diapers. There had been a strange mix in his own mind of wanting to live a full-time baby life and wanting to be a successful adult in an adult world.

The initial horror of this place had him praying to God for release and return to the adult world. He screamed into his gag and struggled against his restraints with all his strength. As hours, then days passed – and with the reassurances of his captors – he began to actually believe them. They meant him no harm and simply wanted him to be, well, to be what he secretly had wanted to be for so long.

The part of his mind wanting to be a successful adult in an adult world, realized how miserably he’d been doing. It wasn’t obvious to his peers, but he knew that he was to be fired from his job soon. He just wasn’t cut out to do the sort of work he’d been hired for and yet it was all he was trained to do. He was going to lose his apartment and have no place to live. His parents had moved to a retirement condominium in Florida and had told him in no uncertain terms that he’d better succeed on his own.

He was a failure in the adult world and so as long as his life was to be spared, he was perfectly willing to give a shot to life here as a baby. He knew he wasn’t being given much choice, but he simply settled in to accept the situation and actually to a great extent, enjoy it.

Both Jim and Doug had a slight fear that John’s acceptance was too good to be true, but finally decided on moving him in with Molly as her baby in place of Bob who was still having difficulty adjusting. The brothers had given John only three days in the transition room, but he strangely seemed to enjoy his environment. The surveillance cameras showed him actually smiling at each wet diaper. He cooperated with even the messiest of diaper changes and his intake of drugs had been reduced to less than half of what they had planned for even the most cooperative baby.

Of course, they had no understanding of why this was and with his new inability to speak adult words, he couldn’t have explained to them if he’d wanted.

Molly had been shocked at the sight of this adult baby entering her apartment. Having spent time in diapers herself, however, and fearfully accepting at face value the threats to return her not only to diapers but to a total baby state she took no chances. She was convinced that she should accept caring for this baby. With each diaper change she felt grateful it was her giving it and not receiving it. With each bottle, she felt fortunate to be able to look forward to a meal she had prepared for herself and a cup of tea with it.

It simply amazed her that this baby, who she had named Paul, seemed to accept even the most demeaning parts of a baby’s life. Baby Paul had adapted quickly to crying when his diaper became too wet and to crying in a slightly different way when he hadn’t been given a bottle at the right time.

There was, however, the problem that arose during diaper changes. Whenever she would begin to wipe his diaper area, Baby Paul would get an erection. After several occurrences of this, Molly brought up the subject to Jim when made his daily check in with this Mommy. She feared she’d done something wrong to bring this on; she feared punishment for it. More than that, though, she feared what might happen if she didn’t report it now.

“That’s not a huge problem, Molly. I’ll be right back and we’ll take care of this issue for you. Thank you for being such a good Mommy. It seems you really do care for your baby’s welfare.”

Not 10 minutes later, Molly heard the key in the door to her apartment. Jim entered with a small box in his hand.

“Get your baby up on the changing table and I’ll show you what we’re going to do,” he said calmly.

“But I just changed him. His diaper is even wet at all.”

“No matter. We need to take care of this issue now. It will only take a few minutes and then you’ll be all set.”

Baby Paul had heard none of this and while he was surprised to be called to the changing table without having wet his diaper even once, he crawled over and with Mommy’s help was soon lying on the table with his plastic pants around his ankles and the diaper unpinned and flopped off his front. He squirmed just a little with the unfamiliarity of wrist and ankle restraints attached to the sides of the changing table even as Jim spoke calmly to him.

“It’s OK, baby Paul. This will only take a moment and won’t hurt a bit. Don’t worry.”

Paul strained to lift his head and watch what was happening but couldn’t quite see. He felt his scrotum and penis being manipulated and suddenly felt something being attached; first one piece, then another. It didn’t feel good. Now he felt somehow restrained down there. After hearing a clicking sound, his diaper was put back in place and his pee-pee felt very confined and strange. Soon his plastic panties were locked back in place, his onesie snapped back on and he was allowed back onto the floor.

Jim spoke to his Mommy, saying, “This chastity cage will keep him from getting any more erections. If he begins to get one, the little knobs inside will cause some mild pain and he will lose the erection. I assure you, the pain is very minimal and the cage will do him no harm. He’ll wet as usual with no problem. When he messes, be careful to wipe him well. Bathing him is no issue at all. Let him soak, wash him with even more care than normal and be sure to dry him as well as you can. A few minutes in the open air before diapering him will help also. Once a week, I’ll come and remove the cage so you can clean him thoroughly.”

Molly nodded and tucked away all this information in order to take care of her baby just the way she needed to. Within the next two hours, she ended up chuckling to herself as baby Paul cried out little yips of pain. Any sexual pleasure he might have otherwise enjoyed was being squelched. Her baby was going to be a baby in every way. Although slightly painful every time his penis began to swell, baby Paul almost enjoyed the thought of being subdued in this way.

With each passing day he became more and more comfortable in his role.

[diaperlover81]

Very good keep it coming!!!

[dldad]

This is quite some story. I will continue reading as it will be interesting to see how the mommy/baby relationships progress, and to the eventual release of each, and how that will translate into their reworking back into society. I wonder how the brothers will help them back into society, seeing that they will have lost their jobs, apartments, etc.?

[diaperpt]

This may seem a cop-out ending. It's all I have right now. If there is a lot, lot, lot of interest, I might go back and continue.

Chapter 17: Troubles in Paradise

Doug and Jim had been reluctant to take in any more clients. They were enjoying what they were doing. They watched with great pleasure as the Mommies cared for their babies. The control they had achieved in creating these babies had been intoxicating and they loved even more forcing the women into being caring, if perhaps not necessarily loving, Mommies. Linda had adapted more and more and seemed to be content to care for her little baby. Molly had surprised them not quite as much as baby Paul, but the two had made a wonderful little family for them to watch over.

Bob had finally begun to give in to the inevitability of his new life as a baby. He’d been in the transition nursery for over a month now and was waiting to be placed in an apartment with a Mommy. The difficulty was with both Ellen and Kathy.

Ellen had at first rebelled and had to be put in diapers herself, first for a week. Then after a week in adult clothes but in a cell, and living in an apartment for two weeks, her behavior had become so outrageous and defiant that she had been returned to diapers again for two weeks. Jim and Doug were unsure if she’d ever be a suitable Mommy.

Kathy had been equally problematic and had spent so long in diapers that the brothers had actually removed her pubic and light body hair, placed her in cloth diapers and put her in a transition nursery.

At one point, the brothers had discussed the possible need to take in three more Mommies; one for Bob, one for Ellen and one for Kathy. They had argued back and forth about this. The idea of creating more Mommies actually excited them, but the fear of being caught themselves brought them back to reality. If they could only break either Ellen or Kathy, they’d need only one Mommy. If somehow they could salvage both, they’d need only one baby.

After a great deal of debate, the resolution had been to acquire one more young woman. Meanwhile, they would make one last attempt at both Ellen and Kathy and hopefully one would be suitable as a Mommy. If the new client was suitable as a Mommy, they would then have options. She could be converted to a baby if somehow both Ellen and Kathy were broken and became good Mommies.

A decision was made and after some research, Doug headed off to Albany, New York for a week. Jim stayed back to care for their clients. For three days Doug observed Mary. She was about to turn 21 and was a college student studying early childhood education. She supplemented her income babysitting for the children of her professors and seemed to love it.

On the fourth day, a young man with a shaved head struck up a conversation with Mary as she left class at the end of the day and began walking back to her apartment. Mary smiled shyly at the man’s advances and judged them to be innocent. No, she couldn’t go for coffee just now. She needed to get home, change and get to a professor’s house to babysit his six month old baby. Maybe she would see him again on campus.

The next day, the same man seemed surprised as he rounded the corner of the classroom building and physically bumped into Mary. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” he said. “I’m so clumsy. What’s wrong with me?”

“That’s OK. I’ve done that myself once in a while. You just get in a rush to get to class and before you know it, you’ve practically knocked someone over,” said Mary.

“Say, are you the same girl I met yesterday afternoon?” said Doug, acting surprised. “I can’t believe it. Where are you headed now?”

“I’ve got a class in 5 minutes,” she smiled. “But after that I’m going to lunch. Would you like to join me?”

“Oh I wouldn’t want to put you out. You probably had plans to eat with friends or something,” Doug said, feigning humility.

“No, really. You kind of fascinated me yesterday and I wouldn’t mine getting to know a little more about you. I’ll be done at 11:50. I’ll meet you downstairs at the main entrance and we can go to a little sandwich shop over on Elm St. Does that sound OK?”

“Well, if you’re sure,” he hesitated, seemingly reluctant. Then he brightened and said, “Yes. Why not? Actually I’d really like that. But you have to let me buy you lunch. Is it a deal?”

Mary laughed and said, “Well you drive a hard bargain, but I’ll accept just this one time!”

Doug waved a shy good-bye as Mary hurried off to her class.

By 11:53, the couple was off to lunch. They enjoyed each other’s company until each of them said they had to get to class. Mary promised to meet Doug after her last class and let him walk back to her apartment with her. She thought him a little odd, but was willing to give him a chance and maybe if he asked, go on a date with him.

They met at 3:54 that afternoon and by 4:15, she was unconscious and chained into the back of the van on her way back to the Home for Unwed Mothers.

Chapter 18: Some Resolution

Three weeks later, Mary was beginning adjustment to her new apartment. She cried herself to sleep each night but her medications were beginning to calm her. The stories of having to take care of a baby as her own did not bother her as she had done much of that already and was near completion of her degree in early childhood education. It was simply the captivity which bothered her so much.

She had been put in diapers for several days as the brothers had struggled with her to accept her new life. The threats of having to wear them on a long term basis went far in bringing her some measure of acceptance of a slightly better path.

Within another week she had gained kitchen privileges and had been shown her baby’s nursery. It had shocked and dismayed her, but with a slight increase in her medications, she’d get passed this.

Meanwhile, Ellen had finally given in to the idea that she was probably not going to be released ever, but stood a remote chance if she cooperated. The thought of a transition to full time diapers was repulsive and while being a captive and required to care for a baby seemed repulsive almost as much, she relented.

She returned to her apartment with a slightly new outlook. The medications helped, but she did try to look on the positive side of things. She was no longer restrained at all. The apartment really was quite comfortable even if she had to be there 24/7. She took to watching TV and began to seek escape in the many books she was furnished. Obtaining kitchen privileges was a huge leap for her and it almost made up for the shock of seeing the nursery for the first time. She was allowed several days of getting used to the idea of the nursery and the baby who was to occupy it.

Kathy had been an entirely different story. It became obvious that her rebellion was to be such that there was no possibility of her becoming a satisfactory Mommy. What the brothers didn’t know was the extent to which she’d decided years ago that she never wanted to have children.

She’d also rebelled at baby treatment and even in the transition nursery, she’d been strapped in so that she wouldn’t hurt herself by banging her head against the bars. It took several weeks of adjusting her medications to find just the right combination to keep her awake and yet passive. This and some additional time in the nursery found her finally beginning to turn a corner.

Like the other babies, she remembered her former life. She hated eliminating into her diapers but found herself beginning to lose at least some control of her bladder. She had held her bowels several times until she had to be given an enema. After three very unpleasant experiences of being left in dirty diapers from those enemas, she began to give in to a more normal schedule of bowel movements. Having her diapers changed sooner than later was at least a small incentive for cooperation.

Hunger overtook her distaste for her baby bottle and her pacifier soon became exactly that for her, soothing and calming her mood. The crib was confining and yet more comfortable than being strapped to a bed in the cell. Little by little she was coming to become acclimated to her surroundings. Little by little she accepted that there was no chance of escape; physically escaping from this facility, but also no chance of escaping a life as a new adult baby.

By the time that Bob was brought to his new nursery to meet his new Mommy Ellen, he had adjusted to his reality well. The prospect of having an actual relationship with someone other than his captors who gave him minimal attention was exciting to him. He sucked on his pacifier and beamed at the sight of his crib, changing table and dresser full of baby clothes. He was allowed to crawl excitedly from room to room in the apartment taking in the realization that this was his new home. It meant he would be taken care of by this woman he was to know as Mommy.

He didn’t like his new name of Jimmy and the lingering memory of his former life grated against this new life. Even so, after he had cuddled up to his new Mommy to drink from his first bottle in that apartment, the soft touch of her body next to his and the gentleness with which she fed him made him feel welcome and loved.

When Mary was finally introduced to her new baby Kathy, newly named Baby Liz, the two began a bonding experience as strong as any of the other relationships established in this bizarre facility. The brothers observed each ‘family’ and gave each Mommy helpful hints, corrections and reprimands as they saw fit. Thankfully for each of the Mommies, their behavior fell within the bounds of acceptable motherhood as defined by Doug and Jim. As they watched the development of each pair of Mommy and Baby, they grew almost jealous of the baby and the loving relationship they had never had.

Several years went by and more than ever, the Mommies and Babies grew to love the relationship that had developed. The memories of former lives remained very substantially, though in varying degrees for each one. Each of the babies had become functionally incontinent and for now there could only be speculation as to whether they would ever have a possibility of regaining any control over bladder or bowel. Wetting and messing their diapers had become routine and accepted. They had no longer any thoughts of being upset at using their diapers. It was simply part of their lives. Continence simply wasn’t an issue.

While most Mommies elsewhere looked forward to toilet training their babies, the Mommies here knew that would never happen. Most Mommies elsewhere, watched their babies develop and grow physically. These babies were fully grown and were not to be allowed to develop past their own stage of babyhood. Because it wasn’t even a foreseeable possibility, none of them were bothered by the idea of their babies remaining in diapers or seeing their babies develop past the toddler stage.

This is an amazing story. It is almost impossible to believe. Quite possibly, it is the very impossibility of it that made it possible. Some say that money cannot buy happiness and that is possibly true. Some also say that there is no such thing as a perfect crime. That may or may not be true.

Money had however brought to Doug and Jim not just one functioning mother, but four. It was not a happiness they experienced from this. It is almost impossible to say what the emotion was that they felt, for they felt little or no emotion at all. Was it a contentment they gained? Some feeling of satisfaction? Were they punishing their clients for the sins of their mother? No one might ever know. The readers of this story might have an opinion and they might or might not be correct.

How long did this Home for Unwed Mothers exist? Were the exemplary Mothers ever released? How could they be, for although they could be returned to freedom without them ever knowing exactly where they had been, they had seen the brothers’ faces? Was there a drug which could selectively erase that memory?

What about the babies? Would they ever know a taste of freedom again? If the mothers were released, would they be ‘provided’ new Mommies? Or would this whole situation eventually be discovered?

What might justice look like if someone ever did manage to track down this institution? What punishment would be suitable for the two brothers? What of the incredibly strong bonds created between the Mommies and the Babies? Would the babies ever be able to readjust to an adult life, with or without continence? Would it be right to force apart these new families?

This story is going to be left with these questions unanswered. Perhaps the biggest question of all would be about the simply ridiculous premise that such a situation could ever develop. But then again, is fiction ever stranger than the truth of this world?

Let me know what you think of this. If you'd like me to continue it, what direction might it go? I've asked a lot of questions here and there is all kinds of potential. Of course, if you make a suggestion that just doesn't seem right to me, I couldn't go there, but if it's anything I like the sound of, I might work on this some more. Thanks for reading!

[Guest waslost1234abc]

yeah leaving this story with too many unanswered questions doesnt seem right...plenty of conflict but no resolution which would make this a perfect story in my mind. you could add one last chapter explaining what happens to each set of characters and what becomes of the two brothers. i really liked what you did here. i also agree that its better to write out the full story edit it and then post it in sections. i have been the perpetrator of plenty half finished stories and now take the same approach....

[Radioman]

:DAwesome story. Very well written. Thank you.

I would love to read anything else you have written.

[jesica]

Interesting story, could have been an eposode from the Twilight Zone with a twist. Enjoyed the development.

[dmavn]

Great story.. And definately not an outcome you would expect. Kept waiting for this "treatment" to rebound on the brothers and they finally get the mother they always wanted but never had.

[diaperpt]

Great story.. And definately not an outcome you would expect. Kept waiting for this "treatment" to rebound on the brothers and they finally get the mother they always wanted but never had.

Now why didn't I think of that! I hadn't thought of writing any more to this story, but I'll have to give that some thought. Of course, now it wouldn't be a surprise ending, would it?