Reawakening The Past

[Bigbabybrad]

Before I publish this, I would like to say a few things. First, this is my first attempt at writing a fetish story, so be gentle. Second, I decided to write this because I am sick of the standard cookie-cutter stories that I have seen on a lot of other sites. You all know the type. The plot line basically goes like this:

X decides to start wearing diapers. X's family is worried, so they consult a doctor who says that it is just a phase. X's family learns to accept X's desires and X is kept in diapers permanently. X's friends slowly discover that X is wearing diapers, and soon the whole crew is doing it.

While this is entertaining for about the first five stories, it gets old quick. I don't see why fetish stories should be so limited. As writers, we need to expand into other genres. We need to show realistic characters having realistic reactions, now matter how painful they may be. We need to show what is good and what is bad; we need to show the world inside and outside of our fetish.

The only other thing that I would like to add is that this is the first of many parts to this story. Please have patience with me as I learn and develop along the way. I have attached an .mp3 file of the story to this forum for anyone that would rather listen to it. With no further ado, here is my story...

Reawakening the Past Ch. 1

By Big Baby Brad

Baste couldn’t remember the last time that he slept. When most people say that, they mean that they have not slept well in a long time. In Baste’s case, he literally could not remember when he slept last. In fact, he couldn’t remember anything before that day, at the age of eight, when the F.B.I. agents found him chained to a dirty factory floor, naked, half-starved, freezing and bleeding. Now, at the age of 18, he was finally ready to start looking for answers.

He already knew a little. His father, who used the stage name Dion, was a famous musician turned criminal. Dion was an empath, meaning that he could transfer emotional experiences through his voice. He was considered to be one of the most skilled empaths of his time. Dion’s concerts always sold out, and those that attended often left feeling as though they had undergone a spiritual journey.

The details of how his father became a criminal were unknown to Baste. His mother, Perseph, refused to talk about it. In fact, she grew angry at the very mention of Dion’s name. She would occasionally listen to one of his albums and cry. It was a school counselor that had told Baste that Dion was his father. It was the same counselor that told Baste that Dion was dead, killed at the hands of police while attempting a bank robbery.

Perseph was a healer, she had the ability to diagnosis illnesses by simply touching a persons skin. She could also heal light scraps and bruises and stop bleeding with a touch. This guaranteed her a job in the health care industry, but because she was a functional alcoholic, it did not help her escape from living beneath the poverty line. She spent every weekday in a hospital, and every week night at home getting drunk. Baste often came home to find her passed out on the couch and had to put her to bed. By the next morning, Perseph would be sober and ready to work, as though nothing had happened the night before.

Not everyone in Baste’s world had special powers, but those that did generally stuck together. Approximately 16% of the population had these gifts; most were mild and could be easily categorized. It was generally agreed that the empowered should date the non-empowered in order to increase the percentage of the population that had these gifts. It was also a bit taboo for two of the empowered to date each other, since many of the most powerful and notorious members of their class were the product of such unions.

Baste himself was a Moonchild, a designation given to a specific class of the empowered who displayed certain cat-like features. Moonchildren had pure black eyes which they could use to see equally well in the day and in the night. They also had half an inch long black claws on their hands that were thick, sharp and difficult to break. All Moonchildren had a slightly upturned nose, which, when combined with their extremely slim bodies, gave them their feline appearance. They were all completely hairless and were able to maintain a muscular physique with little exertion.

Moonchildren got their name from the legend that stated that one could see into the future by looking at the reflection of a full moon in their eyes. They were considered extremely lucky, and most Moonchildren were given full scholarships to the most prestigious private schools in the country. Moonchildren were exclusively the product of relationships between two members of the empowered, and the birth of a Moonchild was considered a sign of a blessed union. Normal social stigmas were set aside for unions that produced such a child.

Baste did not have the advantages afforded to most other Moonchildren, however. Because of the notoriety of his father, Baste was treated like a pariah. No private school was brave enough to accept him, so he went to an under-funded, inner-city public school, where his gifts were associated with the upper-class, and he constantly had to fight to survive. His inability to sleep meant that he was always a bit edgy and paranoid, traits that served him well in a hostile environment.

To say that Baste didn’t sleep is not to say that his mind didn’t shut down. Approximately once every three days, Baste would have a black out. These always occurred at night, and he could usually tell just before they would happen. His mind would go blank, then his vision would turn to black. He would wake up six to eight hours later, usually either in his bed or on the roof of the school. When this happened, he would not remember what he had done during the duration. His vision would simply fade back in and his mind would begin to work again. He always felt a little more sane after one of these episodes, but he never felt more rested.

It was after one of these episodes that Baste decided to find out more about his past. He awoke on the roof of the school on a Saturday morning, and walked home in the early morning hours. His house was only two miles from the school, and he had always preferred to walk rather than to take the bus. There was something about the physical process of walking that made him feel alive. When he arrived home, he found his mother lying on the couch, choking on her own vomit.

He quickly ran to her side and used a finger sweep to clear her passage ways. She was already turning blue when he ran to the phone and called an ambulance. He returned to her side with the phone in hand. As he told the dispatcher his address, he checked her pulse and discovered that she had no heart beat. He was performing CPR before he hung up the phone.

After several minutes, Perseph sat up violently, began to breath and then passed back out. Her heartbeat had been restored, but her vital signs were weak. This was not the first time that she had nearly died because of her alcoholism, but this was the first time that it had happened during one of Baste’s black outs. As Baste watched his mother as she was loaded onto the back of the ambulance, he knew that he had to find cure for the demons that plagued his family.

At the hospital, the doctors told him that Perseph would likely be in a coma for a few days, after which her natural ability to heal would pull her out of it. This was not news to Baste, who had been through this on two other occasions. As he stroked her long, brunette hair, he couldn’t help but reflect on the irony of a healer who couldn’t heal her own heart. Staring with intensity out the hospital window, he tried to make his mind escape from the ugly place in which he found himself. Despite the familiarity of the situation, he could not simply let himself go numb.

When he looked back down upon the fragile shell that was his mother’s body, he began to shake with fear. Her small, delicate frame made her look even more weak and powerless when juxtaposed with the clunky and artificial appearance of the tubes and machines that were keeping her alive. What would have happened had he not arrived when he did? What if his black out had lasted longer than it did? These were questions that scared the hell out of him. Perseph may not have been an ideal mother, but she was the only family that he had.

Baste’s first positive memory was of her holding him in her arms after they were reunited by Child Protective Services. She had always made sure that he had enough to eat and had clothes on his back, even if they came from consignment shops. It was her patience and guidance that had helped him learn to deal with his sleep disorder, and he knew that she blamed herself for whatever had happened to him before his first memory. In a way, he couldn’t help but feel responsible for her alcoholism. He knew that he wasn’t the one putting the bottle in her hand, but that did little to assuage his guilt.

Before he could learn how to help his mother, he needed to learn about his past. Dion’s shadow hung heavily over their home, and Baste knew that his father would be the key to unlocking the whole mystery. He had tried to search for information on Dion from the internet connection at his school, but the majority of pages were blocked by content monitoring programs. The few that got though were fan-sites that were dedicated to his father as a musician. None of them contained any biographical data.

After leaving the hospital, Baste decided to find the closest public library. Unfortunately, the city had closed down the library in his neighborhood when he was still a child due to funding difficulties. The main city library downtown was only ten miles away, but he would have to fight the congestion of public transportation to get there. As he boarded the bus, he noticed a young child in the front row smiling up at him. He smiled back before the child’s mother had a chance to pull her youngsters head toward her, blocking his view. It never ceased to amaze him how much prejudice there was against Moonchildren amongst the working poor.

When he arrived at the library, Baste asked the receptionist where he might find biographies of famous rock musicians. With a tone that was just a little too perky for someone working the desk in a government facility, she pointed him toward the reference section, where he could find a copy of the Rock ‘N Roll Encyclopedia. Before he could leave, the receptionist asked for a kiss for good luck. He smiled the best he could given his state of mind, and kissed her hand. She giggled in response.

Baste had no difficult finding the encyclopedia, which stood about waste high on the shelf, and quickly pulled the volume labeled “D.” He flipped through the pages until he found the entry for his father.

His father was born into poverty, but worked his way up from a promising young guitarist to a pioneer in the glam rock industry. He was known for his innovation and his live performances. His empathic abilities were said to be the best of his musical generation. He was well on his way to being a legendary rock musician when his wife died under mysterious circumstances, sending him on a downward spiral that would result in him becoming an even more legendary criminal.

This last part made Baste’s head squirm. He had never considered himself to be of a conservative mindset, but it had not occurred to him that his parents might not have been married. Dion’s wife was named Demi, and she was a grower, a class of the empowered who are able to encourage plant growth through their presence. Many growers can make flowers spring up literally beneath their feet as they walk.

The article went on to say that Dion began his criminal career by kidnapping his son from his lover, and then went on to stage a series of daring bank and armored car robberies with his partner, Hephas, who was a unique member of the empowered with super-human strength and nearly impenetrable skin. Their criminal career lasted for nearly five years before the police were able to detect a pattern in their choice of banks and set a trap for them. Dion was gunned down instantly, while Hephas was able to escape. Due to the nature of her wounds at the time, many have speculated that Hephas probably died shortly thereafter.

The article also mentioned that the son was eventually found, but that the records of his location as well as the details of his rescue are still considered to be classified information due to on going investigations.

After taking all this in, Baste was just as confused as he had been when he entered the library. Nothing that he had read really helped him to understand how he had ended up in that warehouse. Furthermore, he had no real insight into the nature of the relationship between his father and his mother. He would have to do a lot more digging, and looking into the death of Dion’s wife was the most obvious place to start.

As Baste bent down to put the book back, something caught his eye. The place where the book had been was vacant on the other side, allowing him to see the occupant of his neighboring row. It was a young mother who had placed her baby on a reading table in order to change his diaper. The baby sat on a cloth blanket meant to comfort him while preventing the table from getting messy. The mother gently removed the soiled diaper, delicately cleaned and powdered the baby and snuggly applied the new diaper. When the baby grew fussy, she picked him up and walked him back and forth, soothing the baby until he fell gently asleep.

This sight sent a flurry of emotions over Baste. As he watched the baby being so carefully taken care of by its mother, he couldn’t help but be reminded of his own mother holding him in her arms. He also felt jealousy toward the baby for being able to fall asleep so quickly and with such ease. Finally, he felt a twinge of sexual excitement for being an unnoticed observer of such an intimate moment. When he stood back up, he realized that he would need to wait a moment and calm down before departing the library, for male Moonchildren were known for being well-endowed.

By the time that Baste was on the bus, his mind was completely engulfed in thoughts of the scene that he had witnessed. He pictured the baby’s face, so carefree and serene. He could never remember feeling that trouble free. That baby had experienced something that had been robbed from him, a sense of juvenile innocence. He tried to imagine himself as that baby, but each time he was pulled back to thoughts of his mother, lying helpless in the hospital, waiting for her body’s natural healing tendencies to kick in.

An unusual thought crept into the back of Baste head as he reflected on the situation. Perhaps he could achieve the same Zen state as the baby if he put himself in the baby’s position. Maybe if he found a way to diaper himself, he could acquire that same peace of mind. The thought made Baste blush as he inadvertently grew a little excited. He knew that we would be home alone tonight, so he had the perfect venue to try this new experiment. Two blocks before his house, Baste pulled the cord. He departed the bus and entered the neighborhood grocery store.

Baste hesitantly made his way to the baby aisle, wary that no one see him. He looked over all of the brands of diapers before settling on the largest size of a mid-grade brand, one that was designed for toddlers. He had no intention of using the diapers, so he was not worried about absorbency, but he did want something that would feel soft and warm against his skin. As he headed for the check out, he grabbed a small pack of baby wipes and a small bottle of baby powder. He wanted the full experience of being a baby.

Luckily, the clerk on duty was too preoccupied with meeting a Moonchild to notice what he was purchasing. She was new to the store, which he frequented with his mother, and he was thankful for it. After kissing her on the hand for good luck, he packed up his purchases and walked home.

When Baste arrived home, he went immediately for his room, not noticing the light on the answering machine that indicated that there was a message. He spread the baby products out across his bed before slowly opening the package of diapers. Taking out the first diaper, he looked at it with a bit of reserve. All of the sudden he felt very silly. Was he really going to dress himself up as a baby?

Baste blushed a little before folding the diaper back up and placing it back in the package. He tried to turn his attention away from the diapers, but soon he felt the excitement returning to his loins. At that point, he knew that there was no turning back. He was going to finish what he had begun.

Removing his pants and underwear, Baste took one of the baby wipes and gently rubbed his around his genital area. He was sweaty from being out of the house for most of the day, and the wipe felt good as it cleansed his pores. It took four wipes to fully clean himself, after which he reopened the package of diapers and unfolded the first one.

Baste laid the first diaper on the bed, opened in such a way that he could sit down on it. It seemed fairly small, and he hoped that it would actually fit him. After a few seconds of hesitation, Baste sat down on the diaper and grabbed the small bottle of baby powder. He slowly powdered himself before pulling the diaper up between his legs. It was a snug fit, but he was able to remove the sticky straps and secure the diaper around his waste.

Once the diaper was fully in place, Baste stood up and removed his socks and shirt. He remembered the full length mirror behind his door, and walked over to take a look. Baste couldn’t help but smile at the site of a fully grown Moonchild wearing diapers designed for a normal human toddler. The bulge of his package was obvious in the front, and he could see the beginnings of his crack peeking out in the back. This sight led him to grow exciting again, and soon the tip of his penis was poking out of the top of the diaper. He was tempted to play with himself before he remembered that he had done this to achieve a state of peace.

Baste lay on his bed in a fetal position, sticking his thumb in his mouth to make him feel more like a baby. At first he felt very silly, but after he calmed down, he began to imagine a mother figure holding him in her arms. He wrapped himself in his blanket the way that he imagined a baby would be wrapped. The diaper made him feel warm and safe.

As he continued his meditations, he imagined the mother figure smiling down at him. Her face was a blur, but he could feel her warmth and love radiating into every inch of his body. Soon his eyes began to feel heavy. He didn’t know what this meant, so he tried his best to embrace this new sensation. His mind began to shut down, but in a different way than with his black outs. This way felt natural and healthy somehow. Within minutes, Baste was fast asleep. For the first time in ten years, he was sleeping like a baby.