GFOP Posted July 19, 2022 Share Posted July 19, 2022 The premise of this series is that the caregivers in the Jackie universe have collectively hired someone to write a newsletter documenting the happenings in the local scene. It's a weird way to spend money, but then, there are a lot of extravagant flashes of wealth going on here already, and this is a relatively minor one when it is pooled together by the group. I wrote these for a couple of reasons - one, because while I've now introduced 9 big babies in the Jackie series (some only in passing) there are still quite a few that we know very little about. So, it's a good chance to meet characters whose perspectives we might see down the line. Second, I've mentioned before that I love the idea of limited perspectives, and doing these newsletters from the CGs perspectives is a fun way to get a different view of the world than we'd get from Jackie or another one of the babies. I particularly enjoy instances where their perspectives on events dramatically differ. Personally, I take no position on whose interpretation is correct - although the "author" of these newsletters will certainly lean towards reporting the only interpretation that they hear as fact! And third, I selfishly enjoy the idea that these newsletters are being sent out via email, and that the babies probably don't even know that they exist, and, to the extent they do, have absolutely no opportunity to present their side of the story to the outside world. Maybe their perspective will be shared with us via a certain narrator who can somehow read their thoughts, but it will never get to the small group of people they know, and maybe their view of events will never even make it that far and the accounts below will just become the official account. And which would even be better? Anyways, enough of my musings. From here on out, when I post story segments I'll just jump straight into the "author's" voice. For now, I've written out a full round of these on the same topic. I don't know if I'll come back to it when this round is over, and if I do, whether I'll continue with the idea of doing the rounds to all nine or not. I think this could be a vehicle for some of the more experimental short stories that I have in mind, so it could take a different form in later editions. If people have ideas of topics that they'd want our reporter to explore, I'm open to suggestions (although I make absolutely no promises!). And if you don't know the series yet, or you want to play where's waldo with a couple of the heretofore minor characters that will get their proper debuts in the next several weeks, here are the previous stories in the universe: Baby's Unexpected Trip Jackie's Play Date The Haircut Pushing Boundaries The Morning After the Night Before ------- Author's note: Hi - and welcome to the first edition of Big Baby Steps, the new newsletter featuring all of the latest gossip from the NoVa big baby scene. I'm so honored that you all have chosen me to help keep each other up to date on what your little girls are up to, and I can't wait to get to know each of your families! If you've got topics you want me to answer, just respond to this email. We're going to have so much fun! Who’s a smelly girl? It’s Tory! Making stinkies. Doing a pushie. Going poo-poos. We might all assign different little names for our girls to use, but we all know what we’re talking about – dirty diapers. We’re all more or less used to them now, and so are our big baby girls, but the fact that they can still be such a source of embarrassment highlights just how infantile making a mess in your pants is for even our well-conditioned adult babies. Invariably, our little ones come away covered in their own messes, and the smell makes sure that no one can miss what they’ve done (even if we may choose to play oblivious for a while!). When changing time comes, there may be relief from the discomfort, but, done right, the shame should be great enough that our little ones are practically begging to just be taped into a fresh diaper and returned to whatever other embarrassing activity you might have in mind for them. You asked that we use the first several of our new community newsletters to get to know the babies’ stories a little better, and what better way to do that than to hear the story of the first time that they did the most babyish thing possible? Today, we start by share our conversation with Tory’s Daddy, Brian, who told us quite a different story than we’d expected to hear. (I've lightly edited our conversation for clarity) What was going on the first time Baby Tory messed? Hah, so I think that people think they basically know this story, but I don’t actually think anyone does! People remember that we let Tory use the potty for her poopies for the first, I don’t know, 15 years. It was one of those things where even before Kara and I talked to Tory about coming to live with us as our live-in sub, we talked about how we’d ultimately make her into a baby. At that time, we weren’t sure we wanted to deal with dirty diapers, and so we decided we’d use a potty. As it turns out, dealing with a potty wasn’t really any better for us, since we still had to deal with the stink and we still had to clean the potty, so it was only really better for her. But, you know, we’d made the rules and I just think it never occurred to us to change it until one of the other babies came over and there was a dirty diaper in Tory’s pail. When we found out Tory was the exception, it made us think and all of the sudden it was a “why not?” situation. But anyways, what people don’t know is that all of that came way after her first dirty diaper! So this was all maybe, I don’t know, four or five years before we made the shift away from the potty. Kara has an annual work party that is always a pretty big deal. They always have everyone in the company from all around the country come into headquarters and bring in their families and it’s kind of like a staff retreat for a couple days but then on the last night they have a big party for everyone. With Tory at home it can be a little bit harder to get out much. I actually think a lot of people at both of our works think we are sort of prudes who never go out. Of course, little do they know what we’re actually doing! But, you know, it would be nice to be able to go out a little bit more, especially together. So parties like that are pretty big events for us. We’d arranged for her nanny to stay late to babysit, which was what we’d normally do if there was something we needed to do outside of the house. Ashley says it isn’t actually that much more work than a normal day, since she just has to feed Tory and then give her a bath, and once she’s got her in bed she just sits and watches TV like she normally would, only at our house. And, of course, we pay her extra so I think as long as it isn’t all the time it works out pretty well. So, we went out and had a great time. Must not have got back home until at least one or two in the morning. When we did, Ashley woke up and went home to sleep in her own bed. We, of course, pretty much went straight to bed too. At this point, maybe you can see where this is headed… Well, maybe? How did this lead to Baby Tory’s first dirty diaper? Yeah, so it’s actually kind of a comedy of errors from this point. If we are out late on the weekend, it’s fairly predictable that we will sleep in pretty late. Not that we don’t usually sleep in a bit on the weekends, but we’d normally be talking about something like 8 o’clock, which doesn’t really impact Tory. But if we are out later, we’re likely to sleep until more like 9 or 10. Tory doesn’t have any way of knowing the time in her room, so she’s certainly not in a position to be complaining about the time when she wakes up on those sorts of mornings. Surely she knows it is well past when she normally gets up, but she can’t prove it, and she wouldn’t be allowed to do anything about it anyways. In fact, those can turn into funny days for her, because sometimes we’ll wake her up, feed her breakfast, feed her lunch, and put her down for a nap all in a matter of just maybe two or three hours. Not that she’s ever awake for more than about five or six hours at a time on a normal day, but those days can get really compressed. But back in the old days, sometimes if we slept in too late Tory would get to the point where she needed the potty. In those cases, she was allowed to make noise over the baby monitor to beg us to get her up and take her there. Of course, as usual, she had to be ready to go immediately once we got her on there, so it was usually a pretty big emergency at that stage. On the morning in question, that never happened. Kara and I both slept late – probably like 10:30 or so. I don’t think either of us really thought much of not having heard anything from Tory, to be honest. We got up and just went about our normal routine. Kara went downstairs to make coffee for us and some breakfast for Tory, while I headed to the nursery to get her up, changed, and dressed for the day. As soon as I opened the door the smell hit me. I’d put Tory on the potty plenty of times, so I knew immediately that I wasn’t just dealing with gas. The other thing was that Tory was crying. My mind was racing trying to figure out why she hadn’t said anything, or why we hadn’t heard her crying over the monitor. It wasn’t like she was that loud, but it would have been plenty loud enough to wake us up. And then I remembered! Sometimes, as a sort of torture/reward, we play a little prank on Tory where we switch the baby monitors. We’ll put the transmitter in our room and the receiver in the nursery instead of the other way around. And then, come the evening, well after she’s gone to sleep, she’ll be surprised by the sound of the two of us going at it. I assume that this is a pretty rude awakening for her, but if she’s smart, it’s the only time where she isn’t being monitored against getting herself off. And considering that this is all a big turn on for her that she’s otherwise not usually allowed to act upon, I assume that she’s figured that out! So anyways, as I walked into her room and took in what happened, I pretty quickly remembered that the morning before we’d thought that it would be a good night to switch the monitors, since it would probably come as a complete surprise to Tory when we’d been out all night. But we’d gotten home so late that we hadn’t even thought about it (or Tory, really), and we’d just gone to sleep. Probably sometime that morning, Tory had called over the monitor that she needed to go potty, but we hadn’t heard it. And she probably had figured out what the problem was when she heard us get out of bed, but that wasn’t making her morning any more pleasant! How did she react? Well, you know, like I said, she was crying as soon as I walked in. Maybe she had been before. I actually felt bad for her, since it had been an honest mistake. I tried not to rub it in too much, although I could tell that even just mild teasing was pretty embarrassing under the circumstances. I think I said something like, “Oh no, Baby Tory, did you have a poopy accident?” when I got over to her crib. She was sucking her thumb like always, but she just cried a little harder and with these big puppy dog eyes gave the most pathetic little nod you’ve ever seen. I lowered the side of the crib and pulled back the blanket. When I helped her sit up, I have to say that I relished the face she made. It was just horror, and I couldn’t resist teasing her a little more. “Alright, well since we got you up a little late I assume you want breakfast before we change you?” She shook her head furiously. “No, Baby Tory? Your mommy is making it nice and yummy for you right now. You can just bump down the stairs on your bum and then hop right up into the highchair.” Her eyes were just pleading now. We both knew this was not actually her choice. But I’d never really intended to take her down there. “Fiiiine, little girl, we can change you first.” I helped her up and guided her the couple steps to the changing table, where with a quick boost she took one final, unpleasant seat and then laid back for the change. What was the change like? Once I got her over there, I kind of had a moment where I realized I was in for something quite different than I was used to. When I opened up the diaper, the smell wasn’t necessarily any worse than the potty, but the mess sure was. When she used the potty, all it took was a couple of quick wipes and she was pretty much good to go. But with that first dirty diaper I barely knew where to start. Well, except for more teasing! That part was obvious. I was like, “Such a dirty girl, Baby Tory. You got stinky poo poos all over your bum, didn’t you?” Nothing too inspired, really, but neither of us were used to them yet, so they worked She, of course, didn’t answer except by turning a further shade of red. From there, I just got to business. Pick a spot and wipe it. I know enough now to know that it really wasn’t a bad one at all. She probably hadn’t been in it for more than an hour, and since she’d mostly just been lying on her back, it hadn’t really spread nearly as much as we sometimes see now that we’ll make her keep going about her business for a while before we are ready to change her. Within a few minutes, I had her clean, powdered, and padded again. I picked out a onesie for her and got her into it. “Are you going to say thank you, Baby Tory?” I asked her. “Fank oo, Daddy,” she said, although it was still muffled by her thumb, so you could barely really understand her. Which is the point. “For what, little girl?” She didn’t want to say it, but she was going to have to and she knew it. “Fan oo fowah changy my poopy diapuh.” “You’re welcome, my stinky little princess. It’s a good thing you have mommy and daddy to take care of you. Try not to have too many naughty thoughts about how you’re just a dirty baby girl who couldn’t wait long enough to use her potty. Let’s go downstairs for breakfast.” Her blush told me that I was right. She had hated it, but the part of her that had made her want to come here for the humiliation also had gotten a thrill. I vowed to myself that Kara and I would do everything we could to tease her and turn her on for the rest of the day, but that we’d make absolutely sure she wasn’t able to get any release for at least the next week or two, even though we’d been ready to give her that rare chance the night before. Does anything else stand out? Well, the first thing was that as soon as we got downstairs, Kara asked what took us so long. So then I got to tell her all about it. Of course, I only reminded her of the monitor situation afterwards when Tory was back in her crib for naptime. Kara, of course, naturally went straight in for the humiliation as well, telling Tory how glad she was that she didn’t have to change such a disgusting diaper. The whole time she fed her she kept saying things like “open up for the airplane, you big smelly baby,” and she generally made sure that there was no way that Tory could forget her shame for the rest of the weekend. And then another thing I remember is how much fun it was to taunt Tory with what she did the rest of the weekend. We definitely did keep her horny but frustrated, which is my favorite version of Baby Tory. I think we ended up waiting another month or so before we finally did the flip the monitor trick again and let her have a little release. But the best part was that her room smelled the whole weekend until we finally had to take the diaper pail out on Sunday. She literally couldn’t escape the memory even after she was out of the mess. Of course, now that’s pretty close to constant, but back then, that was novel. And, of course, I think the experience helped make sure that when I found out all the other babies did that all the time, I didn’t really hesitate. Like I said, the potty was only better for her, and having changed one poopy diaper, now I knew that first hand. So yeah, that’s about it. Looking back, we kind of wish we’d used that as an excuse to just have her start messing all the time then, but we got there eventually! 7 Link to comment
rienrien Posted July 19, 2022 Share Posted July 19, 2022 Brilliant as usual. I love this takes place in Northern Virginia. It just makes sense. Link to comment
Horizon Posted July 20, 2022 Share Posted July 20, 2022 I enjoyed it but I personally prefer the more in the moment visceral stuff. Nothing wrong with this, that is just my taste. Thanks for writing this and I'm looking forward to more. Link to comment
GFOP Posted August 3, 2022 Author Share Posted August 3, 2022 On 7/20/2022 at 5:15 AM, Horizon said: I enjoyed it but I personally prefer the more in the moment visceral stuff. Nothing wrong with this, that is just my taste. Thanks for writing this and I'm looking forward to more. This is interesting - I hadn't really thought about this until you said it this way, but not too many stories take place exclusively in the past tense. It does sort of limit the freshness of the emotions. It's great feedback. As I edit these, I'll see what I can do to inject a little something more into them. I do think that some will be more visceral than others, but putting these out now will help establish some things that will make later stories that I've already written or hope to write work much better, and I can promise those will be more active in the traditional sense. Anyways, without further adieu... --------- Who’s a smelly girl? It’s Stephanie! It’s the mess that makes the baby. Or really, the messes. There’s the messy faces after a feeding, or the messy playrooms after an afternoon of playing with just about every toy under the sun. But, of course, it’s the messy diapers that really remind all involved that we’ve got a big baby on our hands, not the big girl that most of our little ones like to think they are. Today we hear from Pat, Stephanie’s mother, about just how much both she and Stephanie understood that the first messy diaper was what would really make her a baby, and the battle it took to make sure it happened. It’s part of our series where we learn a little more about each of our girls through the story of the first time they used their diaper to its fullest extent. What was going on the first time that Baby Stephanie made a messy diaper? Ooh, man. The fight of our life, that was what was going on! I think that we were on day six of Stephanie being back to Baby Stephanie by the time we finally got to the messy diaper. I knew I was not going to give in, but for a while I wasn’t so sure that she was either. Really the fight had been going on for more than a year. Her father and I had given her a credit card to help out with the groceries when she moved off campus for her junior year of college. At first, that had been fine, but within about 4 months she started racking up absolutely massive bills from online shopping and from going to the mall. She swears she wasn’t, but she must have been treating some of her friends. At first we talked to her about it and she promised that she would stop, but the bill got bigger the next month, not smaller. So our next solution was to replace her credit card with a debit card, so that she couldn’t spend more than we had allowed her. Well, apparently she’d written down her credit card number, because that didn’t stop her either – the credit card bill was even higher the next month. We canceled the card altogether, which at least stopped her for the rest of the school year. And we forced her to get a job for the summer to pay us back some of the many thousands of dollars that she’d stolen from us. We figured that was the end of it. But when she got home for the summer, our first credit card bill was obscene again (plus we were getting packages left and right!). We confronted her, and finally she admitted that she had been stealing our credit cards at night and using them to buy things online. So while she was supposed to be working to pay off her debt, she was actually stealing even more! I just about flipped my lid, and finally we told her that if it ever happened again the consequences would be that we would punish her so much that she wouldn’t even have a way to think about stealing our credit cards from us ever again. This time, we also monitored our credit cards really closely. Sure enough, within a week she did it again. We weren’t actually quite ready, and we didn’t want to tell her what the plan was beforehand and then have this awkward period where we couldn’t really make good on it, so we spent the next couple of weeks preparing the nursery in the guest room while she was at work. She never had a clue. And at the end of the billing cycle, we showed her the evidence and explained to her that she was going to be a baby now – no phones, no computers, and certainly no online shopping. And the only time she would be out of our sight would be when she was safely locked in her crib. Of course, she was NOT happy. But two against one, we were able to get her subdued and dressed, and eventually she sort of reluctantly was somewhat behaving. We had a bunch of tantrums. The baby food was a bad one, for sure. At nighttime, when she realized her pajamas were going to make her hands completely useless and make it so she couldn’t get out of her diaper, I think she really panicked. I think she’d thought she could avoid wetting somehow, but that was when she realized she couldn’t. So that was quite the tantrum. And so was the one at about 10:30 when she finally wet herself after more than 10 hours of holding back. Especially when she realized she wasn’t going to get changed just because she’d wet. Come morning, she was very contrite, and I made the rookie mistake of taking that for giving in. She did sort of seem to have, and she was a little more cooperative with the food and even the wetting that day, although she still talked back far more than was allowed (which earned her a soapy mouth, among other things). Still, by the third day I think we relaxed too much. I was making dinner when Jimmy went to the bathroom while she was in her playpen, and the next thing we knew he came back out to find that she’d taken off her diaper and pooped right on the floor in there. We hadn’t been surprised that she’d been holding it – we’d figured that would be the last thing she’d give in on and it might still be three or four days. But I absolutely don’t think we’d expected what she actually did, even if we knew she wasn’t going to be happy about it. We put her straight to bed, partly just so we could figure out what the heck we were going to do with her. Our solution was the pajamas in the short term. We ordered some locking diaper covers for her, but before those could come, she wore her pajamas constantly for the next couple of weeks. In those her hands were useless, and she didn’t have a whole lot of access to her diapers. When we told her the next morning, you could see a look of concern on her face, since she’d probably already tested those and realized how much she had no hope of tampering when she was in those. Of course, she wasn’t done fighting yet. She went another day and almost the entire next day without messing. I was a little surprised by that. My sense was that she’d held on once, but that the back-up would be getting pretty extreme at this point, but her resolve was strong. This time, she managed to avoid it by pooping in the tub during a bath. She actually waited until it was just about over, but when I stood her up to dry her off, she paused in a squat and grunted until she’d let out a poop. I tried to pull her up, but she took a good grasp of the little bar for a facecloth and kept pushing until she’d let out a couple more logs. When she got up, she had a really satisfied look on her face. I was livid, but I have to admit she was resourceful. No wonder she was able to come up with new ways to steal from us for so long. Of course, I put her straight to bed again, and this time I told her that there would be no bath time until she had made a messy diaper. She scrunched up her brow, but this time I felt confident I had her. I’ve always wondered if she really thought she could avoid it forever, because of course there was absolutely no way that was going to happen! What do you remember about the first time Baby Stephanie actually messed? I guess that the diet of baby food and formula was starting to work in our favor, because we only had to wait until the next afternoon for it to finally happen. We had her in one of her PJs again, since the plastic pants were still going to take a little while. They did seem to help in subduing her. She couldn’t really use her hands much in them since they made her fingers useless and completely removed her ability to get at her diapers. She went through the morning just sort of moping in her playpen as normal, but after naptime I sensed that she might be struggling. While I was feeding her her bottle afterwards, there were a couple of grimaces that seemed like they might have been cramps. And when I had her crawl over to her playpen afterwards her movement was especially ginger. I grabbed a book to read on the couch, since I sensed the end was finally near. I couldn’t imagine how she would, since the playpen kept her well contained and the clothes took away any remaining chance of escape, but I was still anxious to avoid any repeat of the last couple of incidents. And frankly, after all of the trouble she’d put us through with the credit cards, and the massive struggle of the last five days, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little bit looking forward to seeing the moment when she had to fully give in and start living by our rules. She fought for longer than I thought she would. I guess it was no surprise that she was stubborn. But finally, after more than an hour, she gasped, then groaned, and then suddenly it was happening. She must have had a cramp that was too strong, and once the first breach happened she just gave in and finished the job. Her face scrunched up and you could see she was pushing. In fact, watching her expressions was like striking gold. She kept alternating between a look of disgusted shock and more of a focused pushing face. It probably took her about five minutes to finish. How did she react? She’d been kind of on her knees in the playpen before she started, but when it happened, she’d straightened up a little but stuck out her waist. But after she was finished she gingerly dropped herself to her hands and knees. You could see that she was trying to shift as little as possible. I’m sure she was trying to find a way to have the poop touch as little of her as possible, although we all know that the babies can’t win that game. I watched that for a few minutes, but the smell was awful, and I wasn’t planning on changing her for a while, since I wasn’t about to let her off the hook for her antics over the last week. Besides, she was certainly going to need to get used to dirty diapers, so I didn’t want to give her the expectation that she’d be getting a quick change the very first time. So, I closed up my book and got up to head into the kitchen to start thinking about dinner. She visibly reacted to my getting up, maybe expecting that I was going to change her. So, I stopped by her playpen on my way out of the room. When I got there, I bent over the sides and cupped the seat of her diaper with my hand, sort of pausing on each distinct lump, and then dramatically took a big sniff of her backside, which of course was totally unnecessary. I said something like, “Oh no, I thought I smelled something! I think someone’s a stinky baby!” and I gave a little extra push on the back of the diaper as I did it, which definitely got the little reaction I was looking for. “I guess I’ll have to change you later.” And that is when her reaction really kicked in. “Please, mommy,” she whimpered from behind her pacifier. She hadn’t called my mommy nearly as convincingly before that. And her eyes had gone from the angry glare that she’d had for pretty much a week to complete and total pleading. I swear, I literally saw the fight come out of her right then and there. “You thought there would be no consequences, didn’t you?” I asked. This was the last time I can remember when I didn’t talk to her like a baby. “We were more than fair, but you just couldn’t take the chances we kept giving you. Just remember that it’s all your fault.” And then I left her to think about that on her own. What was the change like? I probably left her for about an hour. I’m sure back then it felt like forever to her, but these days that wouldn’t necessarily be that rare for her. When I came back into the room, there hadn’t been much change in her expression. The best way I could describe it was that she looked defeated. I walked over and opened the playpen gate. “Crawl to your nursery, little girl. We don’t want you in that stinky diaper for dinner, do we?” She certainly didn’t need a second invitation, although I could tell as soon as she started to crawl that she wasn’t enjoying the mess squishing around on her bottom with every movement of her legs. When we got to the nursery I boosted her onto the changing table, and for the first time she sat her full weight on the seat of a dirty diaper. She cringed. I laid her back and quickly put the little strap we had on the table over her chest and arms. It kept her out of the way, but we learned pretty quickly that it wasn’t really necessary, since when she was going to get out of a used diaper, she was usually about as cooperative as she ever was, not less. I grabbed a new diaper and then unsnapped the crotch poppers on her jammies. “Let’s unwrap this little present, huh baby girl?” I asked, which practically turned her all the way purple. Still, that was the only indication I got that she was even listening. Otherwise, she just kept sucking her pacifier and staring intently at the ceiling. I peeled off the tapes, which revealed the mess. I have to say, the internet had told me that the first time I changed a dirty adult diaper I might be a little overwhelmed, but it wasn’t as bad as I’d actually expected. Sure, it was quite a lot, and it smelled pretty foul, but it wasn’t really any harder than changing a baby’s dirty diaper. I got right to it, and she never fussed or resisted when I manipulated her legs to wipe her bum and her privates or anything. So the whole thing was actually sort of uneventful considering what had come before it. Does anything else stand out? Only that the mess really was the biggest battle for us with Stephanie. She’d been such a handful for so long, just basically doing whatever she wanted, and even the diapers hadn’t stopped her willfulness. But as soon as we finally got her to mess herself, it was like she knew she had lost, and that she didn’t have any tricks left to try. We still got in some locking plastic pants, and we used them for several months, but I don’t think we needed to, or at least not for that long. She never complained again. I know she doesn’t like being a baby, and she definitely doesn’t like using the diapers, but she seemed to realize once she’d tried so many ways to avoid messing them and still failed that we’d gotten her and that she wasn’t going to win. It’s not like she is the perfect baby now, but the fight just isn’t really there. And for me, I have to say it was a little cathartic. Obviously, the baby treatment is still a punishment, but it’s more like a security measure now. I am almost embarrassed by how vindictively excited I was the first time she messed, but ever since it's been easier to just treat her like a baby. You never forget that she isn’t really, but you can just treat her like one, without having to feel like you need to go over the top to enforce it now. So I feel like her messing triggered the start of big baby Stephanie just being part of our new normal life. 4 1 Link to comment
D503 Posted August 3, 2022 Share Posted August 3, 2022 Awesome series. I could almost imagine it as a closed Facebook group where people comment on the article - "haha, I remember that, remember when she begged to use the car potty at the playdate? Silly baby", possibly with some back and forward with the interviewee. 2 Link to comment
rienrien Posted August 4, 2022 Share Posted August 4, 2022 Sounds like Stephanie deserves this a lot more than Jackie. 1 Link to comment
rienrien Posted August 4, 2022 Share Posted August 4, 2022 Also, I have a fan theory: one of the babies used to be a caregiver Link to comment
GFOP Posted August 6, 2022 Author Share Posted August 6, 2022 On 8/3/2022 at 10:50 AM, D503 said: Awesome series. I could almost imagine it as a closed Facebook group where people comment on the article - "haha, I remember that, remember when she begged to use the car potty at the playdate? Silly baby", possibly with some back and forward with the interviewee. Maybe Facebook wouldn't host the content, but I definitely think there are some reply alls that follow that exact wavelength! On 8/4/2022 at 8:39 AM, rienrien said: Sounds like Stephanie deserves this a lot more than Jackie. At the end, I'll be curious to see where you stand on the various characters. I'm not sure how well you'll feel like all the caregivers come off, either. On 8/4/2022 at 1:50 PM, rienrien said: Also, I have a fan theory: one of the babies used to be a caregiver ? 2 Link to comment
rienrien Posted August 6, 2022 Share Posted August 6, 2022 2 hours ago, GFOP said: At the end, I'll be curious to see where you stand on the various characters. I'm not sure how well you'll feel like all the caregivers come off, either The caregivers are the worst, lol. Nanny Michele feels like she could have been Margot Verger 20 years ago. Depending on how old they are, I fully expect Jackie's parents to get pregnant/run for office. Let's see how she likes being the first daughter. 1 Link to comment
GFOP Posted August 15, 2022 Author Share Posted August 15, 2022 Who’s a smelly girl? It’s Kori! Uh-ohs, boom-booms, or squishies. Assigning a childish name is fun for us, but it only makes the experience of a dirty diaper that little bit more humiliating for our big baby girls (if that’s even possible). Most of us have seen and smelled enough dirty diapers that we barely bat an eye anymore, but it sure seems like our little ones are only a little bit more comfortable in them now than they were at the start. The only difference is that now they might be able to sort of keep their composure for a little while. With those first few messy diapers, it was anyone’s guess how our babies would react. As part of our series where we learn more about our babies through the story of their first dirty diaper, we recently sat down with Anna, Baby Kori’s older sister/mommy, who was kind enough to take us through the story of Baby Kori’s first time messing her pants. What was happening the first time that Baby Kori had a messy diaper? Well, first, I’ve got to say, I really never expected this to happen. Even up to the moment that it did. So it was a total surprise to me, even though maybe I should have seen it coming. I guess maybe Kori had been living with me for a year or so by then. When she’d graduated college, she’d moved back in with our parents for what was supposed to be just a little while while she looked for a job. That’s of course pretty normal, but she never really did the work. My parents were getting concerned after about 6 months, so they started monitoring her progress a little more closely. It turned out she basically wasn’t applying for anything and was just hanging out all day until she could see her friends from high school and college at night (after they’d gotten off work, of course). That certainly didn’t go over too well with my parents, but Kori was ultimately able to convince them that she was just lacking in confidence. So they helped her get connected with an advisor who helped her with her resume and with finding jobs. That got her some interviews, but she seemed to fail to impress every time that she got one. I really don’t know if this is fair or not, but she never seemed too upset about that when it happened, which didn’t make my parents any happier with her. Eventually they decided that she needed to be doing something for work, even if it wasn’t necessarily something that used her degree, and they had arranged through a friend to get her a job at the local convenience store. Kori was reluctant, but it was explained to her that if she didn’t want to work there, she’d have to find another job, and my parents said they wouldn’t be helping her out with spending money any more so she wouldn’t be able to go out with her friends anymore if she didn’t take the job. So she took the job. She told our parents that things were going fine, but after about three weeks she came home and said she’d been fired. It turns out that pretty much since day one, she’d been a nightmare employee. It was just a small shop, so most of the time she’d be the only person on duty during her shift. She of course was supposed to ring out customers, but she was also expected to keep the shop clean and the shelves stocked. Which really shouldn’t have been hard to do over the course of a shift in a shop that size. But instead she was just sitting on her phone the whole time, to the point that sometimes she barely even looked up when a customer came up to the register. At first her boss thought maybe she just didn’t know, but after a few weeks he started to look at the security footage and saw how bad it was. He told her that even though she was the daughter of friends, if he saw another day like that he’d have to fire her. And, of course, even knowing that she’d been just as lazy the next day, and he’d been left with no choice but to follow through. That was a real wake-up call for my parents, and that was when they called me. I live about three hours away from them, and far away from any of her friends. We all figured that maybe she was a little spoiled living at home, since she was still able to see her friends regardless of whether she had a job. Maybe sending her out here without some of the distractions would help her finally make an effort, since getting a job would probably be the only way she’d be able to make friends or be able to afford to go out to meet people. Kori wasn’t too happy about that. I’m about four years older than her, so while we never really fought much, we weren’t incredibly close either, and we hadn’t lived with each other full time since I’d gone to college about ten years before. So, I don’t think it sounded fun to her. But that was kind of the point! Anyways, I have a good job that lets me work from home and pays well, so I had plenty of room in my house. And my parents agreed that they’d pay half of my rent for a year, so any money that Kori earned she could save up so that she could eventually move out if things went well. We set Kori up with another local employment specialist, and I made sure that she met with them regularly and was applying for jobs. Sometimes I basically had to force her to. Eventually I made a rule that she had to apply for at least 3 jobs in a week before she was allowed to use her video games. I’ve got nothing against video games, but if you let her it would be all she would do. I caught her lying to me about that once, so I had to make her physically show me the completed applications in order to get her console out of my office. It was harder to keep her off her phone, but I tried my best. The gap in employment was probably starting to hurt her, but she still landed a few interviews. I honestly had to help her get dressed for them, because she seemed like she cared so little. She’d borrow my car to go, and she’d come home and just say that they went fine, and they never seemed to go anywhere after that. Finally, I think she came up with what she thought was a pretty good way to get us all off of her back. I think she saw on Facebook that someone was doing one of those multi-level marketing schemes selling cosmetics or something, and had the idea that she could get into that and say that she had a job. I told her in no uncertain terms that it was a terrible idea (especially for someone with no work ethic), but she had just enough money still from her last job to buy into it, so I couldn’t really stop her from doing it. And sure enough, while she claimed she had a job, I literally don’t think she ever made a sale, or even made any posts to make one. At this point, I was really frustrated with Kori. She’d been with me for like 8 months, and while she was sort of my roommate, I felt more like her babysitter, and I think she kind of felt the same way. She didn’t cook anything, she didn’t really clean up, and she was always kind of annoyed with me. Now that she had “a job,” I kind of gave up a little bit, figuring it was best not to waste my energy worrying about a problem that she didn’t even want to fix. I tried to at least come up with some sort of scheme to get her to do some chores, but she seemed fine with losing some privileges to not have to do any work, which was pretty much expected at that point. What really broke me, though, came a couple months later. I was working one day and she was playing video games in her room, like usual. I got suspicious when she started putting her bedsheets into the wash, which was something she never did, and especially not when she’d been up for a couple of hours already. I asked her about it, and she was clearly hiding something, so walked over and took a closer look. It turned out that balled up with her sheets was her underwear and her sweatpants, and they were wet with pee! I pushed her to find out what happened, and she said that she’d been playing a game online that she couldn’t pause or she would let other people down, and she’d had an accident. I was shocked! First of all, when did she ever care about letting other people down? And second, she was so lazy that she had peed herself? I called my parents and I was just so mad. Finally, I told them and Kori that if that ever happened again Kori was in for major consequences. I was not having her ruin my guest bed because she was too into her video games to get up! Of course, I assumed it would never come to that, because I was dealing with an adult. And for a while it seemed like I was right. But then, I don’t know, maybe a month or two later, it happened again! I was honestly just as shocked, but I did have a clear plan. Before her sheets were even clean, I went out to the store and came home with the biggest pack of adult diapers I could find. I was going to knock this out of her for once and for all! And so I told Kori that if she was going to be so lazy that she would pee her pants like a baby, then for the next two weeks she’d be wearing diapers and then we could see if she was ready for a little more responsibility. I think she could tell how mad I was, so she didn’t really struggle too much when I put the first one on her. And just like that, suddenly I had my sister in diapers. What do you remember about when Kori actually messed? So, the thing is, I still never expected that she would ever be in a messy diaper. Once she was in the first diaper, I sort of kept yelling at her for a little bit. I told her how I had already shared my plan with mom and dad and how they’d totally agreed that if she had peed herself again because she was too lazy to quit playing video games, that she totally deserved this punishment. We were all so sick of it. She’d been freeloading off of us for two years now, and not only that, now she was so lazy that she couldn’t even go to the bathroom? So I was yelling at her because I really was mad at her, but also because I was hoping maybe I could finally shame some sense into her. And she did seem pretty upset. So once I was finally done, I just sort of tailed off and told her to come find me when she needed a change, and then I finally went back to work. Then the real shock came. About 45 minutes later, I was just finally getting back into my focus for work and then she came into my office. That basically never happened, so I knew something was up. When I turned around I could see that her face was really red too, so I suspected that she’d already wet herself, which was kind of amazing, since she’d only been in the diaper for about an hour. But, she’d shown that she would choose to wet her pants rather than quit her video game, so I wasn’t too surprised that she wasn’t as embarrassed as she should have been about using her diapers. “What?” I asked. My theory was that this should be as embarrassing as possible if it was going to work at all, so I wanted her to have to ask me for a change. “I need a change,” she said. “Did you really pee that much already?” I asked. “These can hold a lot more than your undies could.” She was squirming now, like I’d intended. “I…I didn’t just pee.” “Oh my God, are you kidding me, Kori?” I said. “Get over here!” She gingerly trudged over from the door to my desk, and as she got closer to me, I could smell that she wasn’t lying. It was foul! Once she got there, I spun her around, and even though I didn’t really have to, I pressed against her stinky butt to confirm, which caused her to visibly recoil and groan with discomfort. At this point, I was sort of in shock. I wanted to portray authority, but at the same time I couldn’t believe it, and I didn’t have any plan for how to react the way I had when she had wet herself earlier. After a minute, I finally just said what was on my mind. “I can’t believe you pooped yourself! You’re even more pathetic than I thought!” She was like “What do you mean, Anna? You said I had to wear diapers for two weeks and come to you when I needed a change!” “I didn’t mean for pooping!” “How was I supposed to know that?” “You didn’t even ask? You just thought, ‘ok,’ and then you pooped yourself? You didn’t even complain when you thought I was making that the rule! Maybe you thought that was what the rules should be for you?” “Anna, I’m sorry! I won’t do it again!” “No, I think you’ve proven already that you should be using your diapers for everything.” I’d already made up my mind that if she was so lazy that she was going to mess herself without even fighting me or fighting to hold it for more than 45 minutes, then she didn’t deserve any better. “Anna, I –“ “No, Kori, I think you’re in enough trouble already. You amaze me with your laziness every single day. Now I need to think for a minute, because clearly my punishment didn’t bother you that much, so I’m going to need to come up with more.” “No!” “Enough!” I said, getting out of my chair and grabbing Kori by the wrist. I pulled her into an empty corner of my office. “Stand here, and don’t you dare move before I come get you! If you do, you won’t want to know what you’ll get!” I hoped I sounded confident, because I didn’t have a plan yet. I grabbed my computer from my desk and went out to the kitchen. I could still see into my office where Kori was in the corner, but this way I didn’t have to smell her. I sent my boss a quick note that I had a family thing and would need the rest of the afternoon off, and then I went into brainstorming mode to try to figure out what I could possibly do to try to break her laziness, or at least to make it so that if she didn’t stop being so lazy should wouldn’t be able to live the good life while the rest of us took care of all the actual work. Obviously, you know where this is headed. The first decision that I made was that if she was going to be messing her diapers, she might need something a little better than what I got her at the pharmacy. So I googled adult diapers, and the options out there that were targeted at adult babies were totally eye-opening, and once you see those you can really quickly find a lot of other things. I moved a little further away from my office so that Kori couldn’t really hear me and called up my parents and told them what had happened and what I was thinking. They totally got what I was saying, and thought that my plan was a reasonable consequence for her actions and presented a reasonable way for her to either earn some trust back through some real effort or else a way to keep her from resting on her laurels. So we reached an agreement where I would start paying my full mortgage again, but they would help me make changes to Kori’s room and would pay for diapers, clothes, food, and other supplies for as long as Kori needed them. So now all that was left to do was to tell Kori and to get started. You make that sound simple! How did Kori react to everything? Haha, yeah. The best thing that I had going for me was her diaper. It had probably been at least an hour and a half that she’d been standing in the corner, and by the time I got back in there, you could see she was squirming quite a bit. The whole office smelled pretty horrendous. When I walked in, I was much more confident than when I left, because I knew what my role was going to be and what I had to do to take charge. And even though I knew she wasn’t going to like it, her reaction to being put into diapers had me pretty sure that the fight back would be way less than I would have otherwise expected. She heard me and pretty much immediately turned around when I entered, which I’d expected. And, as planned, I asserted myself immediately. “Did I say you could turn around? Do you want to start again?” I asked. And she was like, “No, Anna, please!” Then I said, “Alright, I’ll let you off the hook this once, but you are going to have to do a much better job of following instructions, ok?” She said something like “I’ll do whatever you say, I promise.” “Good girl,” I said. I could see she caught what I called her, but I kept going. “Start by coming right over here while I explain the rest of your punishment.” I sat back in my office chair and patted my knee. I don’t think she liked that idea, but she could tell that she had better not test me right away, so she walked over. As slowly, and as lightly as possible, she started to ease herself onto my lap. I grabbed her hips and sped that process up for her. She scrunched up her face in disgust as the poop smushed against her butt. “Oh, does that not feel good?” I said in a mocking coo. “Well, if you really don’t like it and you actually don’t want to poop and pee your pants all the time, which it kind of seems like you do based on your recent actions, then you’d better listen closely to the rules and then you’d better work harder to follow them then you’ve ever worked at anything, got it? And you had better thank me, mom, and dad that you even have a chance, because all of us agree that you don’t deserve much of anything from us with how much you’ve been mooching off of us.” “Thank you! I’ll be good!” she practically begged. “We’ll see about that,” I said. “Now, are you ready for the rules? “Can you change me first?” she squeaked out. She sounded so timid that I knew I was going to have no real fight from her. At least not today. It seemed important not to be lenient in the slightest, especially this early, so I wasn’t. “No,” I said, “I think you’ll do a better job listening to me if you know that you’ll only get out of your poopy diaper once I’m satisfied that you are crystal clear about what the rules are.” “Now, I want you to remember that this punishment is because of how lazy you have been for the last two years. You were too lazy to get a job, so you just let me and mom and dad support you all the time like you were a kid, not a college graduate. And you were too lazy to stop playing video games, so you peed on yourself like you were a three-year old or something. And then you were too lazy to even ask if you could poop on the toilet when I put you in diapers, like you were just a baby who needed them.” She started to open her mouth to complain or respond, but I stopped her. “Shush, I’ll let you know when I’m ready for you to answer me.” She stopped in her tracks. She’d never seen this side of me before, and really, neither had I, but I was liking it. “When you pooped your pants earlier, it made me realize that we have not been being fair to you all this time. We’ve been trying to get you to get a job and make money so that you can move out on your own, but you weren’t ready for that responsibility. You weren’t ready for the responsibility of doing even basic chores around the house. And, it seems you weren’t even ready to be trusted to stop what you were doing long enough to make it to the toilet.” “So, from now on, we’re only going to give you the level of responsibility that you have shown you can handle. And since you can’t handle the responsibility of going to the toilet right now, you’re going to start with no responsibilities at all.” Kori looked confused now, but I knew that continuing would take care of that. “For at least the next three months, you’ll be treated exactly like a baby. I’ll explain exactly what that means in a minute, but what you need to know right this second is that in order to prove that you’ve gotten over your laziness and you deserve another chance, you’ll need to convince me at all times that you’re just a perfectly behaved, happy, active little baby girl. Your only responsibility will be to play with the toys and do the activities I set up for you so enthusiastically that you’re visibly worn out by the end of the day from how much energy you’ve expended.” “If you do that successfully, we’ll add in the responsibility to go to the potty again. And if you master that, then we’ll replace some of your playtime with chores. Assuming that you start to take that initiative too, then we can start to get you looking for a job again and eventually you will have earned the independence to not have to keep me satisfied with your work ethic any more.” “Now, I’m about to explain the rules that you’ll live by for the next three months as a baby, but first, I need to hear you explain to me what your punishment is and what you have to do in order to earn your place back.” Kori had been looking on in horror, which I assume was at the news that she would live as a baby, but given that she already knew she’d be in diapers, maybe it was at the idea of having to work in order to get out of them. Now that I put her on the spot, she started blushing. “Umm…I have to be a…to be a baby…and I have to work really hard to convince you that I really am a baby in order to get to have more responsibility.” “And why do you have to be a baby?” I asked her. I was still going for maximum embarrassment. “Because I’ve been lazy and I haven’t tried hard enough to have any responsibilities.” “Good. You at least sound like you know what you’ve done, which is a start.” “Now, let’s get into the rules. You’ll start following these immediately. We’ll need to get you some things, obviously, but mom and dad are already ordering them and, in the meantime, you’ll do your best to follow whatever modifications I say. Got it?” Kori just nodded. “Obviously, the first thing to know about being a baby is diapers. All babies wear and use diapers, and until you earn the right to try to be a big girl again, so do you. You don’t really seem to mind wearing diapers all that much, but if I ever catch you trying to take your diaper off, change your diaper, or sneak off to the potty, then your good behavior time will automatically go back to the beginning and it will double. So right now that would mean six months that you’d have to convince me every single day that you were the most active baby in the world, instead of the 3 it is now. Understood?” She sort of sighed back, “Yes, I know. I won’t mess with them.” “And that brings us to talking. Babies don’t really talk much, do they? So you will only speak if I directly ask you a question. And if I do, you will only say ‘yes, mummy,’ or ‘no, mummy,’ in a nice, high-pitched little girl’s voice. Let’s practice, shall we? Babies don’t talk much, do they, Baby Kori?” “No,” Kori answered, but if it was higher pitched it was only barely so. “That’s not good enough at all. That sounded like it came from a big girl, and if I hear that again then you can forget about today counting towards your good behavior. Let’s start again. Besides, did you already forget that polite little girls always say mummy when their mummies ask them a question?” She had already been red before, but her face really flushed then. I had suspected that she’d been hoping to avoid calling me mummy, and her reaction seemed to confirm it. Still, my threat had motivated her, and in a much more ridiculous voice she choked out, “No…Mummy.” “That’s better! Maybe someone does want to get out of diapers after all! But, of course, good babies never complain or say anything about their diapers at all, do they? Just ‘yes, mummy,’ and no, mummy.’ Isn’t that right, Baby Kori?” I saw her recognition that I’d just added a rule (and one she could tell she wouldn’t like). But she knew better by now than to fail to respond. “Yes, mummy,” she squeaked. “Soon we’ll get you a pacifier too. That should help you remember to be quiet. Once that is in your mouth, it only comes out when I take it out. Do you understand?” “Yes,” she said, far too normally for me to let slide. “Well, I guess today won’t be counting for your three months if you are going to keep talking like a big girl. We can start again tomorrow with your count. You haven’t earned it by trying hard enough to act like a baby today, isn’t that right, Baby Kori? “Yes, mummy,” she said, catching on once more. I was quite enjoying making her confess her shortcomings, and especially in this new baby talk. “Let’s see, what else?” I continued. “Oh, of course, playing! Most of the time, when you are playing there aren’t really major rules for how you play with a toy. You will just need to show me that you are really engaged with them. Just sitting and holding a doll won’t be enough. If you have two dolls, I expect you to be making them play together. You still can’t use big girl words unless I speak to you, but I should be hearing little squeaks and squeals of you pretending they are talking to each other. And unless I specifically direct you to an activity where you need to be standing, I expect you to play either sitting down on your bum or crawling around. Is that understood? “Yes, mummy,” she said, not dropping character this time. “Good girl! If you do this right I think you’ll actually come to love your toys!” Kori gave me a skeptical look. Frankly, I was also skeptical, but if she was going to actually succeed, she’d be wise to try to convince me that she actually had grown to love them. “Other than that, there aren’t too many rules that you need to worry about following because I’ll make sure that you do. You’ll have lots of pretty baby clothes, but I’ll be the one dressing you so you won’t need to worry about that. You’ll have to eat baby food and drink bottles, but I’ll be the one making your food and feeding it to you so you won’t need to worry about that either. You’ll have a behavior chart in your room that we will check on every night, but I’ll be in charge of updating that, so you won’t need to worry about it. And you’ll have a bed time and a nap time, but you should be so tired that your only worry will be whether or not you fall asleep on your own before then. Any questions?” Kori’s face had really screwed up at the mention of the baby food, but I’d made it clear that I wasn’t making room for negotiation, so she dutifully squeaked “no, mummy.” “Good girl,” I said. “Would Baby Kori like me to change her poopy diapy now?” I bounced her on my knee in case she needed any reminder of the state of her bum. “Yes, Mummy!” Kori couldn’t hide her desperation, even if answering that way left her blushing after she said it. What was the change like? Yeah, so I took her back to her room. Actually, I made her crawl back to her room. It wasn’t really that far, and I don’t always make her do that even now, but I was trying to emphasize “baby” as much as I could early on, especially since I didn’t have many supplies yet. When I got there, I didn’t have a changing mat yet, so I just had to grab an old towel and have her lay on her back on the floor. I gathered up the wipes, powder, and another diaper and then came over and knelt down to do the job. Even though Kori had just been on my lap in the diaper for the last 20 minutes, I don’t think I was quite ready for the moment when I opened the diaper. The smell wasn’t too much worse than it had been, but my god was she filthy. These days I am actually used to worse because everything is much mushier from all the baby food and dairy, but back then I was shocked to see that the logs of poop had all smeared into a brick that filled her crotch and her crack, with some of it starting to get dried onto her skin. I remember that after I took it all in I couldn’t really help myself, so I said “You’re a filthy, stinky little girl, aren’t you, Baby Kori?” She skipped a beat, but eventually she choked out a “Yes, Mummy.” It wasn’t really loud enough to allow her to get high-pitched, but I could tell she had tried so I let it slide. From there, I just grabbed her two ankles and lifted her up and got to work. It’s pretty invasive to have someone wipe your butt, but she didn’t flinch at all. She just laid back and took it. I guess maybe she was just that desperate to be clean, but it was another time where she seemed to accept things with less fight than anticipated. So I’d say five minutes later and she was into diaper number two of what she now knew was going to be at least three months’ worth. Does anything else stand out? I mean I know I already said this, but it’s so obvious looking back now that she’d still be in diapers years later. She just was so not worried about going back into diapers, and even being told she was a baby just didn’t cause the fight back you’d expect to see in other people. And sure enough, she mostly behaves herself. She’s more or less accepted the rules since day one. She’ll throw a tantrum sometimes when I point out to her that she hasn’t tried nearly hard enough and that she’s going to have to start over, but I just put her to bed early or something and the next morning she always gives much better effort. Her problem is that she can never string that effort together. I don’t think she’s ever even made it a month and a half or so, not to mention three. (And she owes me six now, but that’s a different story!) I expected her to be too lazy to get out of diapers, I just expected her to be more upset about it. But me and my parents were right – she really is too lazy for any responsibility and being a baby is just right for her. 3 1 Link to comment
rienrien Posted August 18, 2022 Share Posted August 18, 2022 Even though she's meant to be looking through a glass darkly, I think Jackie's feelings about Kori were spot on. Link to comment
GFOP Posted August 29, 2022 Author Share Posted August 29, 2022 Had a different one up here for a second, but I've never liked that one and decided to just re-write it. So here is another one instead! Who are those smelly girls? It’s Lauren and Katie! “Oh no, who’s a little stinker? Is it you, little girl? Are you a poopy baby?” In most of our houses, this is a nice effective way to tease our big babies about a dirty diaper that we’re already well aware that they are wearing. But when you are dealing with twins the way Julia is with Katie and Lauren, the question is a little more of a real one. Sure, the dramatic pair of diaper checks that follow are emphasized to cause a little bit of embarrassment, but they also are needed to determine whether it’s Katie, Lauren, or both of them that has produced a dirty chore for her or Kevin to take care of. They’ve been dealing with smelly diapers for long enough to know just how to press their girls’ buttons when they want to now, but it wasn’t always such a familiar routine. As part of our series on our big little girl’s first times making stinky pants, Julia sat down with us and took us back to when diapers weren’t even a full-time thing for her and the twins. What was going on the first time that the babies made messy diapers? Well, of course, the first time I saw them both mess themselves was when they were still pledges to the sorority. I think they each managed to limit themselves to just one mess over the course of that weekend of initiation. But I don’t really count that. At the time, I never would have guessed it was going to become a thing, you know? And all of the pledges were doing it, so it didn’t really feel like it was our thing or anything. So after that, it had to have been close to a full year before we did any baby stuff again, because the logistics were just kind of too hard when we weren’t living together to even really discuss it. Once we did start doing it, it was definitely a ramp up. The first weekend we cleared out to do it, we started mid-morning on Saturday and ended on Sunday evening, so it wasn’t exactly much of a feat for the two of them to hold it, and they did. And then it was a few months before we did it again, so it was kind of the same situation. But the next time was only a couple of weeks later, and we started to see how Lauren was maybe more confident and immersive in her baby experience, because she messed while Katie still held it through the weekend. Oh, so it wasn’t at the same time? What do you remember about the first time Baby Lauren messed then? Yeah, the funny thing is it actually caught me off guard. Since we’d done it a couple of times and they had (as far as I could tell) pretty easily made it through the weekends without messing themselves, I’d just assumed that they were not going to be doing that. At the time I never assumed we’d do it for more than a weekend, so I couldn’t see how it would. I won’t lie, when I’d realized that first Sunday afternoon that it wasn’t going to happen, I’d been a little disappointed, but I wasn’t going to make them if they didn’t want to, and they hadn’t indicated that they wanted to be pooping themselves, so I had just let it go. So the weekend started pretty much the same as the others had - after we’d all gotten up and had breakfast and everything, I just asked them if they were ready. Katie actually slipped off to the bathroom before we started, which she’d done previously too, and I assume she took that time to poop before we got her into diapers. Then we got them diapered and went through the day as mommy and babies. It was still novel and incredibly immersive for all of us, but at the same time nothing really notable happened in the grand scheme of things. The next morning, I got them up and fed them breakfast. After I cleaned them up, I set them up at the table to do some of their homework, since we couldn’t totally neglect their real responsibilities. I took some time to do some dishes, so I wasn’t really paying all that much attention to what they were doing. And then I smelled it. It probably took me a few minutes, because I was doing the dishes and so the soap and everything counteracted the smell, but eventually I remember being pretty sure that I wasn’t smelling gas or anything. Still, I felt like I wanted to be sure before I accused anyone. So I finished up, briefly left the room, and then came back out. When the smell hit me again, I knew that someone had a present for me. “Ok, babies, who made a poopy diapey?” I asked. Before I was even done with the question, Katie was pointing at her sister. She was kind of blushing (probably at the insinuation that she might have messed herself), but she was also kind of giggling at her sister’s predicament. Lauren was blushing much more heavily, but she didn’t deny it, so I knew then that it was her. How did she react? I sort of reacted for her. I asked “Did you do a stinky for me this morning, Baby Lauren?” “She always does a stinky in the morning, mommy!” Katie answered me. Of course her twin would know that, although it didn’t take me very long to find out how true that was. Lauren was squirming a little now, but she hadn’t asked for the toilet or anything, so I knew that at some level she had chosen to use the diaper that way. So I was happy to tease her some more. “Come see Mommy, little girl,” I said, beckoning her over with my finger. She got up from her seat and walked over to me slowly, not making any eye contact with me or her sister. When she got to me, I put one hand on each shoulder and bent my knees a little, so that I was so close to her face that I thought her pacifier might hit me if I got any closer. “Let’s check, huh, little girl?” I asked her, though I didn’t wait for any answer.. The question was as useless as the diaper check, since we both knew how each was going to end. I moved my left hand onto her left shoulder, pulling slightly to bend her over, while I bent over in the other direction, and used my other hand to pull out the back of her diaper. It was, of course, as dirty as we all had known before I’d checked, but I still put great enthusiasm into announcing the results. “Oh, pee-eww Baby Lauren, you really did make a big stinky poo poo for me to clean up, didn’t you?” Lauren looked like her cheeks were burning, and I didn’t want to push her too far, so I decided it was time to pull back a little. “Let’s get you a clean diaper then, huh baby? She only managed a very red-faced nod, but there was gratitude in her eyes. I grabbed her by her hand and took her to her room. What was the change like? We didn’t have anything like a changing table back then, so we were just using towels on the floor in their rooms. So when we got to the room I just laid her straight back on the towel, which was still sitting on the floor from when I’d changed her overnight diaper earlier that morning. I started gathering the supplies, and when I came back, I paused to take in the sight. Lauren had composed herself a little, but to see her just laying there, in a t-shirt and a pretty obviously dirty diaper, just waiting for me to help her out of it was really quite something. She looked completely ridiculous, and while I wasn’t going to abuse it, I absolutely loved having that power within the dynamic. I tried not to let myself get too caught up, and got down on my knees and set the fresh diaper, wipes, and powder down next to her. I remember being pretty concerned that if I left her even just a couple of minutes longer I’d let her get a rash. Now I kind of laugh at that, since she can’t have been messy more than 10 minutes. Only when I untaped the diaper did I remember just what a task I was in for. The sight that greeted me wasn’t quite as thrilling as it had maybe seemed when I had looked at Lauren laying on the floor a few minutes earlier. Still, the smell could have been worse, and I realized that the sight that would have grossed out so many people was only filling me with something like butterflies in my stomach. I used the first wipe to cut through the poop, and remember finding the result to be oddly satisfying. By the time I was done, Lauren had calmed down considerably more, and I set about powdering her and getting her ready for the fresh diaper. I remember thinking that in some ways that cemented the power dynamic. The dirty diaper was one thing, but just taping her into another clean one indicated that we were expecting more, and even though I was stirring a little, I had just played it as if this was totally normal, which I felt like was the best part. Eventually, though, we were done, and I sent her back to do her homework. I made sure that I took her dirty diaper straight out to the bin outside, and then we sort of just went on with the day. And how about Baby Katie? What was going on then? Well, like I said, I hadn’t really expected that messing was going to be on the table for them now that we were doing this outside of the context of the sorority, but once Lauren did it, I knew I wanted to see if Katie would too. If she had specifically asked to go to the potty to poop, I’m sure I would have let her, but it seemed like I hadn’t pushed her that far yet. I confess that once Lauren had done it, and knowing that I hadn’t reached a point where Katie had either needed to mess or ask out of it, I kind of became obsessed with finding a way to find out what her decision would be. The good news is that I knew that the weekend after Lauren messed, we’d be able to do it again for another entire weekend. And so I spent a bit of time thinking about what I could do to make it happen. A couple nights before, it hit me. Like I said, Katie had a tendency to slip away on Saturday mornings before I diapered her and Lauren for the rest of the weekend. I was pretty sure that she was pooping then, and so I decided to see what happened. I realized the power dynamic and their like for it was such that I could just tell them we were starting Friday night, and that would be how it would go down, so I did. Perhaps the key, though, was that I didn’t tell them until Friday night. So it was a bit of a surprise when I told them it was time for diapers so that we could play all weekend. At the time there were no complaints, but I was optimistic that this would be my big chance to sort of get her. Saturday was a bit anticlimactic at first. Lauren actually messed herself again, which was still so novel and thrilling, but it wasn’t really the point at that time. And for the first day, Katie held out. I guess I hadn’t totally expected otherwise, but I was still a little disappointed that surprising her with no opportunity to poop undetected on Saturday morning hadn’t forced the issue yet. But Sunday was a different story. Once again, Lauren messed herself after breakfast. As it turns out, Katie was right that Lauren always makes a stinky in the morning. Now that she’s in diapers full-time, there are occasionally second dirty diapers, but you can practically set your watch to a first one coming within an hour or so of breakfast. As I changed her, I found myself wondering if Katie was going to be able to hold on for the full 48 hours. They worked on their homework in the morning without much incident, and then I fed them lunch. I remember thinking that it seemed like she was laboring a little bit to eat the macaroni and cheese I had made for lunch, but since I was in charge of spooning it into her mouth, I didn’t let that stop me. I gave them both a bottle of milk, and then tucked them into their beds for their nap time. And what was the actual messing like? I only left them in their rooms for maybe an hour, since I knew they still had some homework and studying to do, and we did usually try to sneak in a little more play time before dinner on Sundays to kind of wind down the baby weekend on a more immersive note. I didn’t give it much thought, but I woke Lauren up first. I don’t think she’d really been asleep, so it didn’t take much, but I did check her and found that she had a wet enough diaper that I needed to change it, which took a couple of minutes. I sent Lauren waddling out to the kitchen to get back to work on her homework for another hour or so before I’d have them start playing. While she did that, I went into Katie’s room to get her up. She didn’t seem to have been asleep either, as she was looking at me quite alertly from behind her pacifier. I walked over to her, and I sat down on the side of her bed and pushed her hair back behind her ears. “Hi sleepyhead,” I cooed softly. “Did my princess have a good nap?” “Yeth, Mummy,” she whispered back from behind her pacifier. “Let’s check that diaper then, huh?” I hadn’t changed her yet this morning, so I was pretty sure she would need one now, and sure enough, when I reached into her crotch under the covers, I could tell she was soaked just by pressing on the diaper. “Uh-oh, all wet! Let’s get you changed, huh baby Katie?” She nodded, and I pulled her covers back. She sat up, but more slowly than I would have thought she would. “Onto the towel please, baby! We don’t want any messes,” I said, getting up from the bed and crossing over to her dresser to grab a new diaper and the rest of the supplies. I couldn't have been turned around for more than about 10 seconds, but I was surprised when I turned around to find Katie facing the bed with her hands on it, knees bent. It didn’t take a genius to realize what she was doing. I was only a few feet away from her, but I kept my distance. With a slightly audible gunt, she bent her knees a little further and pushed. Immediately you could see the diaper bulge just a little bit more, and it was only a few seconds before the smell started to drift across to me. It was only a couple seconds before she straightened up a bit, and when she did she immediately looked over her shoulder at me. When I say she was blushing I’m not doing it justice. Even Lauren hadn’t actually messed with me in the room yet, so even though I’m pretty sure she had done it in front of Katie, this was a more intense experience for both of us. I strode over to her. What I’d just witnessed was making me feel even more in command of the situation, and I took that control now. “Did I just see you push out a poopy, Baby Katie?” I asked, pushing gently on the seat of her diaper as I did so. “Yeth, mummy,” she whispered, barely audibly. She managed to hold eye contact though, which was impressive. “Did you make all your stinkies? That was just a little. Can you push again for me?” I grabbed her hand, and her grip tightened as she bent again. She did push some more out, which I expected because the first wave had not seemed nearly long enough to get a full day and a half’s worth of holding it out into the diaper. It actually took a couple more pushes, and all told we probably held hands for more than a minute while she continued to mess her diaper for me. Finally, she stood up with an air of finality. I patted her diaper once again, and it was considerably heavier than it had been even after the first wave. “That was a big one, huh baby? Such a good girl pushing all of your poo poos out for me so that I only have to change you once. Now, let’s get you changed.” I gave her a patronizing little kiss on the top of her head, and then I started to lower her down to the towel. How did she react? Well, she was absolutely beet red, but she didn’t really have too much time to react in any meaningful way, since I’d happened across it right away. When I sat her down on the towel, there was definitely a reaction to that first squishing. She’s used to it now, but then it was foreign, and you could see she basically froze as she felt it smush up between the back panel of her diaper and her diaper as she hit the floor. I think I’ll remember that face for the rest of my life - it was such a perfect mix of shock, wonder, sort of innocence, and shame. What was her first change like? Its funny, because for me, I’d literally already changed a poopy adult diaper that morning, but for her it hadn’t happened in more than a year and that was in the context of hazing, which I’m sure was a different experience for her. So I could really kind of watch it from an outside perspective almost, since the novelty was all in her reaction rather than in the act of opening such a dirty diaper itself. I opened up the diaper, and I took the first wipe. “Mommy will get all these yucky poopies off you, ok Baby Katie?” I asked, not expecting an answer but watching for the reaction. She rolled her neck back so she was facing the wall behind her, even less able to watch than she had been before. Of course, I could still see her, and seeing that humiliation while she continued sucking on the pacifier was just delicious. I cleaned her up pretty quickly, since her minimal movement had left about as little of a mess as you can get under the circumstances. I’ve noticed that during any change, there is a moment right around when you finish the last wipe and get the girls totally clean that both of them become so much more relaxed. It was especially pronounced then, but even now there is a tenseness as you are wiping their privates free of poop or pee that seems to ease significantly once you are done with that. From there of course, it was as simple as taping up the new one, which I did in no time. “All right, all clean and dry. No more stinky girl here, huh Katie?” I tickled her tummy a little before I helped her up, and now there was a little smile on her face. I brought her out to the kitchen, where Lauren was doing her homework. “Whath took you sho wong, Mummy?” she asked. She must have known, especially since I was holding the dirty diaper to take directly out to the trash. In some ways, she’s probably just as effective at teasing Katie as I am. “Oh, Baby Katie had poopy pants, just like you did this morning, Baby Lauren. I guess you are both just stinky little babies,” I answered, making sure to get a little bit of teasing in on Lauren while I was at it. “Isn’t that right, Katie?” Katie was blushing anew, but she did nod, and I directed her over to her seat while I went outside to discard the diaper before it left a smell that a future guest wouldn’t have missed. Does anything else stand out? I think the main thing I remember afterwards was that I went back to my room and had a massive, lightning-fast orgasm. I felt like I’d hit the lottery. Not only had Katie reached her breaking point and messed without asking out, which I’d been hoping I could make happen, but I had been able to see it happen and even instruct her to push out more while she was holding my hand. The power trip was just so intense! I had a sense that the girls felt the same way about our power exchange, but it took me a few months to be able to confirm it. I actually did so by setting up baby monitors in their room, which I presented as a little joke. They both tried to be quiet about it, but I could hear that almost as soon as I put them to bed, they’d both reach for vibrators and let off steam before going to sleep. When we went full time and got them cribs (in the same room no less) that stopped, and we reached the outstandingly hot conclusion that if they wanted to masturbate, they’d have to ask directly. But that’s a different story. After that weekend, any time we were having a baby weekend, I got their diapers on on Friday night whenever I could, even if it meant doing so after we came home from a party. And we never went through another weekend without them both messing at least once again. Eventually, we even got to the point where Katie was messing multiple times most weekends, just like Lauren. So once we were over the first hurdle, it became a much more normal part of the play. 5 Link to comment
GFOP Posted September 14, 2022 Author Share Posted September 14, 2022 Who’s a smelly girl? It’s Susie! It’s the messy diaper that makes things real. For some of our little girls, being a big baby can be a bit of a game. But when you have to use your diaper to the fullest, and wait for a grown up to clean you up, it has a tendency to drive home that you really are just a helpless baby in your household. In this installment of our series on our babies’ first dirty diapers, we talked to Baby Susie’s Mommy, Alice, about the major shift in power in her relationship that occurred when that first mess happened. What was going on the first time you saw Baby Susie make a stinky diaper? Well, I have to confess that the first dirty diaper was a set-up! But it’s a little bit of a longer story than just the set up. Before he was Baby Susie, I had been married to Michael for 4 years, and we’d been together for about 7. About 3 months before we got married, he told me that he was incredibly turned on by the idea of being denied sexual release. He seemed to be worried I’d want to leave him, but it didn’t really seem like a huge deal to me. At first, it really was just a small thing in our relationship. Sometimes we would be having sex and I would tell him to stop and just finish me with his mouth, or even let him finish but only with his hand, and it would drive him wild. Of course, when I did he’d usually want to try to have more sex within like two hours, which sometimes could just be tiresome, but whatever. About a year after we got married, two things happened. The first was that the company that I was the VP of Finance at sold for big money. I had gotten a bunch of stock as part of my pay structure, so we suddenly had enough money that we were basically set for life. We decided that we’d both keep working, but I moved to just some part-time consulting from home (and when people saw where I used to work, they paid me so much money it was crazy!), and Michael dropped down to working three days a week. The other thing that happened was that I walked in on him masturbating in the shower right after one of the times that I’d denied him release. I honestly wouldn’t have cared, but when it happened I could tell that he had really wanted me to catch him. He tried to pretend, but eventually I coaxed out of him that he wanted me to make sure he couldn’t do that again until I decided. I, of course, had no idea how I was supposed to do that, but he showed me that there were chastity devices out there that could be used to make sure he couldn’t get an erection. It still didn’t really seem to hurt me, so we got him one. And, when it came in, I started out by locking him into it after I stopped him. I’d usually keep him like that for a good several hours or until the next morning or something. But he’d usually get pretty insistent after a while, and it kind of still felt like he was actually driving everything. Michael would sometimes confide that one of his fantasies was to be in his chastity device indefinitely, or at least for longer periods. So, eventually, we decided to take a long weekend and try it. I locked him in Friday morning, and I didn’t let him out until Monday night, though I did make him service me a few times. I was surprised to find that that was a little more pleasurable for me, because now it really was me driving our sexual encounters, not just him initiating but waiting a little longer to get off. Michael said that the sex we had on Monday night was his favorite orgasm ever, so it seemed like both of us enjoyed that, and we started making that a semi-regular thing. It must have been six months into doing that when some of my friends were going to be in town and wanted to get dinner with us. He sort of balked - apparently there was some football game or something that he wanted to watch. “You know, I don’t have to take that cage off on Monday night,” I said, actually mostly meaning it as a joke. “No, I’ll go,” he answered back way too quickly, with an air of desperation in his voice. I remember immediately knowing I’d just struck gold. When I had him locked up, he would do whatever I wanted. I didn’t really have any idea how I would use that at first, but it stuck in my mind for sure. I did ask him about it after I let him out, and he said that he actually found the idea of having to do what I said in order to get out of his chastity to be really exciting. All of a sudden, the times when he was locked up had a little extra spice to them. I started assigning some chores for him, which made my weekends a little more relaxing, and I slowly found myself seeing what I could push at. I got him a maid costume, and made him wear it while he was doing the chores. He actually wouldn’t wear it for the first weekend, but I kept him locked up the whole week. Even that Monday night, he was begging me, but I told him he wasn’t going to be getting out until he did what I told him. He finally acquiesced Tuesday morning and said he would wear it after work and do his chores. And when he finished, he assumed he was getting out. But I told him that for not following instructions, he would be waiting until the end of the next long weekend. His pouting was incredibly fun. It was probably the first time that the chastity had truly gone beyond what he’d expected, and I was absolutely loving the reaction. I think that I made him deliver three orgasms before I finally got off of his face that night. When he finally did get out, after a weekend filled with cleaning in his ridiculous costume, he admitted that he’d found the lack of control incredibly exciting, even if he was so horny by the time I released him that we really couldn’t even have sex because he came so quickly. That had to have been maybe three years into our marriage, and not long after going that long, he started indicating that he’d want to be in chastity at all times between sex. By that point, I saw only upsides for me in that, but I told him that I needed to think about it because it would change our relationship. That was true, but the real thing was because I didn’t have a plan for it yet. I understood by this point that it would be more or less the ultimate fantasy for him, but by now I knew that it could also be an incredibly intoxicating experience for me, too. I wanted more than just Michael having to obey me generally or do the chores in order for him to get some form of release, but I didn’t know that more was yet. I did talk to him though, and tell him that that would mean if we did go full time, he’d have to do what I said or follow my rules all the time. He seemed down for that, and he eventually said that he kind of liked it the most when I made him do things that he didn’t really like. And what I did promise him was that we could try out a longer time of set chastity during one of the lengthy vacations we could afford to take. That vacation came around the holidays, actually, and we had about 2 and a half weeks off when you included the holidays. I told him I was going to lock him up for the first two weeks, and we’d see how we thought it went. Things were passing pretty normally really. There were lots of chores to be done, since his family was in town that year and we were hosting them for Christmas Eve. There were no real complaints about that until I made him cook dinner still in his maid outfit and a frilly apron. He was super fidgety and eventually he started begging me to let him take it off in case his family showed up early. It was still two hours early, and I wasn’t going to let him get caught, but he kept going on about it. Finally, I told him to quit being a baby about it or I would have to punish him for it. He kept whining though, and eventually I told him that he could get out but that there was going to be a consequence for his not listening to me. While he finished making dinner in more normal clothes, I went online and decided to get him something to really be embarrassed about. I had seen on the same website that I bought his maid outfit on that they had some oversized baby girl clothes on there as well. I hadn’t really given it much thought, but his performance had given me the idea that if he was going to be whiny, then I was going to make him fit the part. I even bought him a diaper and a pacifier to drive my point home. Everything took a few days to come in, and I decided to wait until the day he was supposed to get out. He had, of course, been showing obvious signs of readiness to have his restraint removed. I told him to clean up after dinner, then told him to come see me in the bedroom when he was done. This was a fairly standard way for me to let him out and he eagerly went to work. Instead of getting the key, though, I got out his new dress, the pacifier, and the diaper and laid them on the bed. Predictably, he reacted with defiance, and chose to stay in chastity that night rather than wear the humiliating outfit. I told him that he was already going to be wearing chastity that night, but that he’d be doing so until he’d worn that outfit for a full 12 hours. He actually held on another day, but shortly after breakfast on the second morning he informed me that he would wear it now. I got him dressed, and told him that he’d be acting like a baby that day too. I gave him a few simple rules - he was to crawl, call me Mommy, I was to feed him, he’d take a nap, etc. It was midmorning when he tried to crawl to the bathroom, only to find that I had locked the doors to each one in the house. As he pleaded with me (with his pacifier in), I told him absolutely not. It was then I realized that it hardly felt right to call him Michael in that clothing. I sent him back to the living room where he’d been sitting in front of the mindless cartoons that I’d put on for him, and told him that he had 20 minutes to come up with the name he wanted to call him while he was dressed up like a little girl. I told him that if it wasn’t cutsie enough then he’d get another day in diapers and chastity. He looked like he hoped the floor would swallow him. I watched him continue to fidget, clearly needing to pee, and when the 20 minutes were up, I went over to him. I checked his diaper, which was still dry. “You’re not going to be able to hold it all day,” I said. “But anyways, time’s up! What’s your new name, little girl?” “Susie,” he said, slightly lisping around the pacifier. He looked down to avoid my eyes once he said it. “I love it!” I said, and I did! It was delightfully little girlish, and I especially liked that it didn’t sound anything like Michael. I led the newly ordained Baby Susie over to my work desk, where, produced a pencil and notebook, and instructed him to write “I am Baby Susie. Mommy says if I whine like a little girl then I have to be treated like one,” 300 times, which he embarked upon. It took him quite a while, of course, and about half way through he finally had to give up and wet himself. He came over to me to ask for a change, but I just told him to go finish his lines. When he finally did, I went over and carefully counted them. He’d done them right, fortunately for him. I took him back to our room and changed him, then fed him a PB&J for lunch and made him take a nap. The rest of the day was pretty uneventful except for his silly attire, but my final trick was to give Susie an 8 o’clock bedtime, which meant that, even after spending a little time having him see to my quite-charged sexual needs, he had to sleep in his baby clothes because his 12 hours weren’t up yet. He was still awake when I came to bed, and tried to convince me to let him out of chastity since now it was after the twelve hours were up, or to at least to let him take the diaper off, but I pushed the pacifier back in and told him that he could stay in the outfit tomorrow if he said another word. I had to change him the next morning, but I made good on my word and let him out. As usual, his orgasm came laughably quick, and he was actually back in it for the weekend the next morning, though not without a longer round of sex first. I knew pretty quickly that Baby Susie was the perfect outlet for the dominance that he’d awoken in me, so I started to do some reading online and coming up with ideas. I found a few more excuses to turn Michael into Baby Susie over the next few months and tried out some new rules, but I also wanted to keep my cards close to my chest. Finally, I told him one weekend that if he wanted to go into full-time chastity, he could, but that it would have to be completely on my terms. Even in chastity, I swear he practically came on the spot he was so excited. “That’s exactly what I want!” he said. “You know I like it when you make me do things in order to get out.” “OK,” I said, “we’ll start next month then. This is all going to be a one time only offer. If you don’t take it, you won’t get another chance, even to take the same deal later. I’ll give you all the details later, but for now, just know that I want you to quit your job. I know you’ve been wanting to anyway, and you know we can afford it. I am going to work a lot less, too.” With that, I started preparing for Baby Susie’s arrival. He still had to go to work for two weeks, and I also encouraged him to organize a trip with a couple of friends after he quit. I arranged for lots of clothing, diapers, and other necessities to arrive on the days he was out of the house, and used his trip to get the spare bedroom redecorated for a baby girl, complete with the oversized furniture he’d need and all sorts of toys and stories fit for a little girl. I got everything locked in there before he got back, but honestly we always kept the door closed so he never suspected a thing. Finally, the night before it was time for the set up. I set up a nice dinner for us at his favorite restaurant, and then encouraged him to order appetizers, a big meal, and as much alcohol as he wanted. I knew all of that tended to mean that he’d need to go number 2 in the morning. I wanted him to need to go particularly badly so that he wouldn’t try to hold on for several days like you always read about in the stories I’d see online. When we got home, we had sex, and you could tell how excited he was by the thought of turning over control to me the next day. That was the last time that he was inside of me, and the last time he slept in my bed. In the morning, I briefly left our room to move the highchair out of the nursery and into the kitchen before he woke up. I roused him, and offered him the chance to pleasure himself one more time before I locked him up, but he said he wanted to wait. “Are you sure?” I asked. “It might be a while before I let you out.” “I’m ready,” he said. “Alright then,” I said, “The first rule you should know that you’ll only be eligible to get out of chastity on the last day of each month, and if, at any point, I decide you weren’t following my rules well enough, then you’ll have to wait until the next month.” I could see him stir with excitement underneath the boxers he’d slept in. “Ooh, alright then,” he said. “Sounds like I better do all of my chores!” “Oh, no,” I said. “There won’t be any responsibilities for you at all.” “Huh?” he said, sounding confused now. “It wouldn’t be fair to ask a baby girl to do chores, would it?” I asked. “Wait, you want me to do that?” he asked, clearly shocked and dismayed. “Absolutely, Baby Susie!” I cooed. “Unless,” I said, switching back to my normal voice, “you want to go ahead and give up on this big fantasy of yours. Just remember, it’s now or never. You’ve got sixty seconds.” He looked flustered, and even though I was almost positive I knew where this was going to end up, I was still a little nervous as he literally squirmed at the thought. He really didn’t enjoy the Baby Susie role, and even though he liked being made to do things he didn’t like in order to get out of chastity, it was a serious commitment to humiliation in order to get his lifelong fantasy fulfilled. “Well, what’s it gonna be?” I asked when the minute had passed. “I’ll do it,” he mumbled, not meeting my eyes. “Good girl!” I said, causing him to blush further. “Let’s go get you locked up and ready.” I walked over to my dresser and produced a new chastity device. It was the same as his old one, except that it was pink. “This is perfect for keeping a little girl like you in line, huh Baby Susie?” “Yes Mommy,” he said, knowing already that would be a rule. I locked her up, and then led my new sissy to her nursery, which was an absolute shock for my new baby. I got to work with the diapering, using pink adult baby diapers rather than the plain ones I’d used previously, and then produced a pair of frilly tights, a short and ruffly pink dress, and a matching bonnet. I topped the outfit off with some Mary Janes, and then got Baby Susie seated on the edge of the changing table. I explained the rules - they weren’t that different from what she’d experienced during her short stints in this role previously, except that she’d be eating baby food and drinking from bottles. She also wasn’t to be touching her diapers or asking for a change - I would make sure that she got one when I felt like she needed it. I didn’t mention it explicitly, but of course, the other difference was that Baby Susie would be messing her diapers as well, which she’d avoided due to the short duration of her earlier treatment. That wasn’t going to be possible now. Finally, I reiterated that I’d need to see a perfect little baby girl the whole time. I’d train specific behaviors over the first few weeks, but once I had them implemented, I expected to see them all the time, and failure to do so would rule out any release. Finally, I had Susie crawl out of the nursery to her new highchair. After the nursery was full of furniture, she didn’t even seem that surprised to see it. I got her in and got to work heating up some baby cereal for her, using the time it was in the microwave to get her set up with a bib, and then fed her. The texture seemed terrible and there were some faces, but now we have years of evidence to confirm what I suspected then, which is that the breakfast cereals are easily better than most of the other baby foods that she gets. After she ate, I fixed up a bottle of formula, and included a little fiber supplement. I had read some of the nutrition facts on what she’d be eating, and realized there actually wasn’t that much fiber in it, so her first bottle each morning makes sure that she gets plenty. But that was more of a long-term thing than any extension of my set-up from the night before. I kept her in the highchair for the bottle, then cleaned her up, but left her in the chair for a little while while I went back into the nursery to grab her playpen. I needed to get that set up and get her in there in order to get to work on setting some of the other things that I’d been storing into the nursery all set up, since it no longer needed to be hidden. Once that was ready, I got Susie down and into the playpen with a couple of dolls and instructions to play until I said otherwise. I got started with the work I needed to do. A large corner of the living room was due to become her playroom. I worked on assembling a number of larger toys, including a model kitchen, a large doll castle, and a small plastic piano and chair set. I also had a significant amount of baby foods that needed to be moved from their cases to where they’d be stored in the kitchen, so I knew I’d be quite busy that day. I occasionally checked in on Susie, encouraging her to continue with her dolls, but I didn’t move her to a different toy because I wasn’t in a good position to watch her closely. What do you remember about the first time Baby Susie messed? After an hour or so, Susie slowed down in a way that suggested she was more than just bored. Based on the time, I wondered if last night’s meal was ready to run its course. “Mommy…” she said after a minute or so, slightly muffled by her pacifier. “I’m sorry, Baby Susie,” I said, cutting her off, “but Mommy is busy right now. You need to keep playing until I am ready to watch you while you play with all the new toys Mommy bought you.” “But…” she said haltingly. “No buts, young lady. Babies need to do exactly what their mommies say.” She quieted down after that, but was clearly still sulking behind her paci. She continued to hold her dolls, but there was very little activity. It wasn’t like she’d wet herself a thousand times, but she’d done it unquestioningly ever since the first appearance of Baby Susie, so I knew that wasn’t what was happening. So while I continued working, I kept a much closer eye to make sure I didn’t miss the moment. Of course, despite the desperation that had prompted her to make the last-ditch appeal for a reprieve, she held on as long as she could. It took almost an hour before she finally couldn’t hold back any more. There had already been a couple of sharp intakes of breath that I assume were reactions to cramps, but this time, the intake was accompanied by a rather noisy fart. She groaned and her hands shot to the seat of her diaper, and I sensed that more than just gas had escaped. She composed herself a little and straightened up slightly. She was looking over at me, and while I met her eyes, I continued to tighten the screw on the little chair I was assembling. Perhaps seeing that there was going to be no sympathy from me, she moved to finish the job. She spread her knees wider, and lowered her bottom in an obvious push. There wound up being a few, each punctuated by a couple of bursts of gas that probably were the result of the booze from the night before. Eventually she straightened again, shaking her bum a little. I’m not sure if she was trying to get the mess to fall away from her skin or if she was trying to get used to it, but either way she made a face of obvious displeasure when she was done. How did she react? I’d enjoyed the show immensely, and was almost even enjoying the smell that was wafting across the room in a weird way. Now that it was over, though, I was still intent on finishing my work that morning. Baby Susie, for her part, did not immediately get back to what she was doing. She spent quite a while squirming, clearly trying to see if she could find a way to get comfortable. After about 5 minutes, she still hadn’t picked her dolls back up. I wasn’t paying it too much mind though, since I figured that it wasn’t realistic to set high expectations for how much she’d be playing too immediately.. “Pwease change me,” she suddenly said from behind her pacifier. She sounded quite miserable. I got up and walked over to her. I wasn’t exactly surprised to get this request, and I was prepared for it. “Excuse me, little girl?” I said. “Didn’t we just talk about how babies don’t touch their diapers or ask for a change?” “But...I’m messy, Mommy!” she pleaded. “I don’t care what you are. I’ll change you when you need it. You were just told about that rule.” “But…” she stammered. “Absolutely not, Baby Susie. It looks like your little princess parts are going to stay locked up this month. We’ll see if you do better next month! “Seriously?” she asked, though the lisp her pacifier caused somewhat undermined the intensity she seemed to want to be asking with. “Yes, seriously. And you can stay in your poopy diaper until after lunch time. Now, play with your dollies before you get yourself in more trouble than you’re already in.” She looked crestfallen, and she hung her bonneted head. If she had any doubt that this wasn’t just going to be her fantasy, or that she’d have to really do what I wanted to get what she did, it was fading fast. Reluctantly, she picked the dolls back up, and I went back to my work. I had fully expected that she’d lose her chance at getting out of chastity for the month in the first few days without me even needing to be very strict. I thought that that was kind of a good thing, because then she’d have several weeks to adjust to some of the behaviors I was going to expect from her, including the use of a high-pitched lisp and more active and immersive play. I actually really wanted to make sure that she got out for some relief in the second month so that she’d know it really was possible, and by being just a little bit more lenient, I was able to make that happen. What I’ve learned, though, is that I should just wait until the end of the month to let her know whether she’s made it, since otherwise her main incentive for good behavior evaporates as soon as she finds out that she won’t be getting out that month. I more or less finished things around 11:45, so I started to get her lunch ready. I let her out of the playpen and had her crawl back out to the kitchen, where I got her up into the highchair once again. She made a seriously funny face as her weight hit the seat, really squishing the mess up into her backside for the first time despite her having worn the dirty diaper for nearly an hour now. I brought over her food and started feeding her, and within a couple of minutes I think her cringing had more to do with the taste of the mush I was feeding her than the pile of poop she was sitting on, though I am sure that both were part of it. For my part, standing much closer to her for much longer, I was much more aware of how much she smelled than I had been in our large living room. Once we were done, I got her down and took her back into the living room for a pair of bottles cuddled in my lap. She slurped desperately, surely knowing that this was the last thing between her and the change I’d promised after lunch. What was the change like? Finally, at least from her perspective, I had her crawl back to her new nursery. I honestly was very tempted to have her perform orally for me, but I had promised a change, and decided to wait for another time. Instead, we headed straight for her changing table, where I helped her up. “Let’s get that stinky bum cleaned up, huh baby girl?” I asked. Susie didn’t answer me. She was blushing, for sure, but I got the sense that the change was really the first priority for her. I worked her tights down, then got to work on the tapes. Once I opened the last one, I pulled back the front panel and surveyed the damage. It was really quite a sight. I’d changed her wet diapers before, and while the yellowed front panel of the diaper wasn’t that different, everything else certainly was. Her backside was totally caked in a sludgy mess of waste, and it had clearly slid down into her crotch and stuck to the sodden padding of her diaper. The chastity device helped keep her little package high and tight to her body, so fortunately the mess stopped before it reached it and potentially became stuck under the restraining plastic. I knew I’d need to clean her carefully, ensure regular baths, and still briefly take it off for cleanings in between true releases, but if poop had been getting in there that would have been an even bigger issue. I raised her legs high above her, which did cause a little bit of the mess to separate onto the diaper, but most stuck on. “You’re such a dirty princess, aren’t you?” I commented. With her legs in my hands up in the air, there was little she could do but squirm a bit from the shame of her fresh predicament. I grabbed my first wipe and got going. It was serious work, but eventually I had her clean. I powdered her back up, and then got the new diaper taped back up over her caged little member. I dropped the smelly diaper into the pail. In no time, her tights were up around her waist again and I was guiding her down off the table. Now, I led her just a few feet to the crib in the corner; and boosted her up into her new bed. Even though she’d only been up a few hours, I tucked her tightly under the pastel pink comforter, gave her a patronizing kiss on the head, and pulled up the side rail to ensure that she wouldn’t be getting out until I came to get her. I closed the room-darkening shades, and shut off the light on my way out of the nursery. Does anything else stand out? Well, I think the biggest thing I will always remember is when she said “seriously?” like that. It was so similar when she said “no, I’ll go!” so long ago. Those two moments were like cousins or something. I think that they were the two times where the fantasy of wanting to be chastised really met the reality of what that looked like in practice. Both times, the reactions were absolutely to die for. After her first stinky, I really think Baby Susie realized that she needed to actually be Baby Susie in order to ever get out of chastity, not just be Michael playing the role. Although it took quite a lot of work for her to learn all of the behaviors I expected of her, and even though she still is only rarely able to do it well enough to actually.earn her release in a given month, ever since that moment it’s been perfectly clear to her that there are no free rides, and that she isn’t going to be able to just play the games for her own kicks to the degree that she feels like it. And, to be honest, that was the moment when I knew I’d found my full fulfillment in the role. I had never had a problem with playing along with Michael’s fantasies - it wasn’t like they were bad for me or anything, but they had only truly gotten exciting for me when he actually really had to submit to my will. So the moment when he realized that he’d have to be my baby girl, in the fullest sense of it, at absolutely all times without any hesitation, in order for his fantasy to be anything more than a fruitless humiliation, was the moment that I was in heaven. And it’s been like that ever since! 5 Link to comment
GFOP Posted September 27, 2022 Author Share Posted September 27, 2022 Who’s a smelly girl? It’s Martha! “What did you eat?” “Did something rot?” “How can someone so cute smell so bad?” We’ve all asked ourselves these questions when our big babies have made messes, but anyone who has been around Baby Martha knows that it's even more serious when she poops her pants. For whatever reason, she stinks! Now, we all take that for granted, but there was a time that that came as a surprise. We sat down with her Nanny, Claire, to talk about her very first dirty diaper as part of our series that helps us better get to know the not so little girls in our little community. What was going on the first time that Baby Martha made a messy diaper? My recollection of that time was that it was all such a whirlwind. I’d come to the States with the specific purpose of looking after Baby Martha, and her father and I had made arrangements to suit. But I remember that when we got started it all seemed quite daft to be moving so quickly. At the same time, it was such a relief to have been able to land on my feet. I’d found myself in a bit of a conundrum towards the end of my time in London, as it was becoming clear that I wouldn’t be allowed to pursue my research by any of the university’s review boards. I’d been despondent. After all, all around the world there has been talk of prison reform, and my idea would keep repeat offenders out of institutions but also off the streets, with the added benefit of possibly allowing for a little bit of joy for them if they were able to accept themselves in their new babyhood. I knew that there would be resistance from some, but I was frankly shocked by just how much there really was. Some people questioned whether my methods even amounted to reform. And others were marginally more sympathetic, but said that testing it was unrealistic, too risky, or even unethical, even if all of the participants had volunteered. I thought all of that was complete rubbish, but I also knew that that left me quite a practical bind. A criminologist without her doctoral degree who is seen as controversial has basically no job prospects. And so I’d raised quite a stink, or at least as much of one as you can really create on message boards targeting academic criminologists. It seemed that most people on there thought me just as mad as the uni had, and that I wasn’t going to find anywhere in Britain or the States that was going to let me test my theories at their uni either. But I did find a few people who seemed to think my ideas had some merit, even if they mostly only were willing to say so in private messages so as not to derail their own careers. And the fortunate bit was that one of my sympathetic colleagues on the boards was Martha’s father. He reached out to me to say he thought my ideas were worth trying. We shared a few messages, but of course I assumed that would be the end of it. However, it emerged that his daughter, Martha, had coped badly with the death of her mother a few years before. He’d attempted to help her by accepting a new position at the local college and moving to a completely new area, but she’d only done worse, finding herself in repeated and escalating trouble with the law. Thus far, he’d been able to use the fact that he often appeared as an expert in unrelated trials for the state to help protect her somewhat, but at the time he reached out she’d been in the midst of a two month jail term, and because of some of the offenses she’d committed that he’d been able to shield her from the full consequences of, he knew that if she was to run afoul of the law again, the American system meant she’d face a minimum of ten years in prison, and possibly quite longer. Detailing her transgressions, we agreed that it was quite unlikely that she’d be able to avoid a repeat offense upon her release. And so, he’d asked me if I would be willing to implement my methods with Martha. It was an interesting proposition, and one I hadn’t actually considered before. I’d always assumed that I would be administering a program and observing, with research assistants helping to care for the offenders at first, or possibly the diverted offender’s families. While I hadn’t seen myself so directly involved, Walter did make an attractive case. As the primary administrator, I’d be able to see to it that my methods were carried out exactly. And with Martha’s case, I could use downtime to compile a detailed case study. I may never be able to release it until the case was completely over, which would be many decades, but someone after may find it and realize the wisdom. And, of course, should the climate change, I could always publish my findings sooner. And besides, this was an opportunity to both pursue my theories and have a stable job, living with Walter and Martha and having all of my expenses comfortably managed. When I accepted, we had to move quickly so that I could arrive before Martha was released from jail. I put my affairs in order back in London, and arranged my trip to the States. In the meantime, I’d also helped Walter arrange for when Martha arrived home. I was to assume her bedroom, and he was converting the spare to a full nursery for her, and we needed to get nappies, clothing, and food ordered in addition to the furniture. When I finally arrived, I only had two days to adjust to the time and country, all while taking care of last-minute preparations for Martha’s release. And, of course, she hadn’t been told of the plan. Her time in jail had been quite hard on her. While she’d fallen in with a tough crowd, she’d never been violent, and she’d found the constant risk of violence within the jail extremely stressful. Really, her lack of any violent offenses, and the fact that she had no children to consider, made her an ideal candidate for the type of diversion that I envisioned. We felt that telling her ahead of time would only make it more difficult to bring her home gently. Instead we’d planned that her father would pick her up, and once he brought her home we’d introduce her to the new regimen. He’d told her I’d be there, but had only suggested it would be part of helping her through her period of probation, which of course was only the tip of the intended iceberg, both in terms of my role and the duration of my position. Our first meeting was difficult. Walter told Martha of the plan only moments before, and so she was certainly unhappy to meet me. I don’t see my role as primarily being one of disciplining the girl, but rather as ensuring that she is a well-cared-for, well-behaved baby girl. But we always knew that initially much of what I would need to do would require that I be very firm. She’d need to know that the rules for her were not to be relaxed, and hopefully shown that with good behavior, she could find a degree of comfort and even fun as the baby that she was to now live as. And so, after just a few minutes of additional explanation of the rules from me and Walter and complaints from her, it fell to me to formally convert Martha into Baby Martha by taping her into her first nappy. I must say, while it was not without its difficulties, I do think our decision to introduce Baby Martha to her new regime immediately but without any forewarning proved wise. She was still quite tired and worn down from the time spent away, and she didn’t seem to have much fight in her. She was certainly no volunteer, but she was about as compliant as we could realistically have expected. What do you remember about the first time Baby Martha messed? Well, I remember I had assumed that there would be an extended period where the nappies were a spot of bother. She’d arrived in the early afternoon, and hadn’t had time to visit the restroom before we brought her to her nursery. So, it turned out that we had a wet nappy on our hands after only a few hours. There wasn’t another before bedtime however, though how long she lasted in her cot before wetting the overnight nappy that I changed in the morning is unclear. I am a firm believer that, especially at the beginning, it is important to actively encourage active play from a new baby. Playpens can be a useful tool for keeping an adult baby out of your way while you must tend to other duties (and they are especially useful in preventing messes during playdates from getting out of hand), but since my goal is to prevent confinement in prison, I believe it is important not to simply replace a cell with a smaller, padded one that is filled with toys. As such, I was intent on spending the first several weeks being especially interactive with the new child – showing her the many toys we’d acquired for her and encouraging her to use them. After breakfast on the first morning, I started by introducing her to a few of her dolls and stuffed animals, and encouraging her to host a tea party with them in order to get to know them. She, not surprisingly, was none too enthusiastic, but she was at least somewhat going through the motions, as she had done the afternoon prior as well. However, it wasn’t long before she became even more sluggish than she had been at the start. I confess that at the time I wasn’t alive to that being a warning sign, and I thought that she was perhaps simply becoming bored or rebelling, so I physically encouraged her, dragging her along by the wrist over to the next doll and to “fill” its cup before pushing her down into her ridiculously low plastic seat to “drink” her own empty cup. She was a sight, squatting there, her short red dress not really doing more than sitting on the very top of her legs, revealing her bulging nappy below. Though she wasn’t actually eating or drinking, I’d put a bib on her as well for her to go through the motions with. She hadn’t taken to sucking the dummy naturally just yet, so it sat awkwardly in her mouth. “Nanny, pweath, I,” she started pleadingly. “Ah ah,” I loudly cut her off in a quite authoritative tone. I was intent on setting the rules firmly from the start, and while she is allowed to speak some, it is only to be on the topics of her toys or other infantile nonsense. “Any more big girl words and we’ll be washing your mouth with soap. Now, I believe the dollies were waiting for you, Baby Martha.” With a hint of petulance, she pretended to take a sip of her fake tea, then set the plastic cup down harder than strictly necessary. I still hadn’t pieced together the problem, so I was wondering why this had proven to be the moment that she was showing signs of rebellion. Nevertheless, when I told her she needed to help each of the three dollies to have a lovely drink as well, she did as she was told, reaching first to the one on her right, then the one to her left. Finally, it came time to tend to the one across the table, which she couldn’t quite reach without slightly getting up off of her seat. She moved very slowly, but she did the job. And that’s when it happened. As she returned to the low child’s chair, the mix of desperation and squatting caused her to noisily break wind. It was followed immediately by what seemed to have been a small wave of mess being deposited into her nappy, which caused Martha to jump to her feet. “Oh dear, Baby Martha,” I said, knowing immediately what had happened and instinctively coming over to the girl and putting a firm arm around her to turn her to face me. We were close to face to face, as I’m no more than a few centimeters taller than her when we are both standing. “Did you do a dirty nappy, little one?” She couldn’t make eye contact, but she simply nodded. She was crying now. “There, there, poppet. No need to be embarrassed, all baby girls do pooey nappies! Let’s have a look, shall we?” I spun her around, pulled up the back of her dress, and peeled back the back panel of the nappy. Staring at the small lump, I noticed for the first time just how horrid the smell was. It was far worse than anticipated, and would need changing almost immediately. Still, I sensed it wasn’t really all there might be. Releasing the back panel and giving a small pat which nearly caused her to jump through the ceiling, I asked, “Is that all of your poo, Baby Martha, or do you need to do more pushies?” She didn’t seem to want to answer that one, and simply stared shame-facedly at the floor. “I’ll tell you what, baby. You have five more minutes, then we will say bye-bye to the dollies for a moment and go change your nappy before it becomes too foul for them to enjoy their tea with you. But if you haven’t finished and you go poopy again after I change you, you will need to wait three hours before your next change. So I would make sure you get it all out if I were you. Your dollies won’t mind a bit.” She did give a little nod as I pushed her back down to the chair to continue her play, with the squishing of the dirty mass causing visible displeasure. Her teary eyes looked at me a little differently, perhaps considering the offer I’d just made and realizing the influence I could have on her comfort in both directions, depending on her behavior. I don’t know if she resented that influence or was glad I’d made it clear, but I can tell you that there was far more pushing than playing from the little darling over the course of those next five minutes or so, including a few where she slightly rose up from her child’s seat. And between the gas and the faces, it was quite obvious that she was indeed depositing more in the seat of her nappy. How did she react? I didn’t actually time out five minutes. Once I saw that she was going to push out whatever more she had into the seat of her nappy, I resolved to wait until she had clearly finished. My purpose in setting the ultimatum was only to get her to do that. When she had finished, she sat back a bit more in her little chair. The backrest only barely came up to the small of her back, so she couldn’t fully lean back, but you could see that it had taken a fair bit of effort and the darling was looking to regain herself. She looked exhausted, though probably that was as emotional as it was physical. You could see that she still wished to try to stay still. With her knees forced well above her waist by her low perch she had no hope of keeping herself from putting her full weight on her nappy, but I suppose staying still slightly limited the squishing. I gave her a minute, watching. She was terribly red from what I imagine was a mix of exertion and embarrassment. Perhaps feeling ashamed, she made no attempt to look at me. I decided to let her sit just a moment, and process what she’d done before I further interacted with her. I knew I needed to change her soon, both because I don’t believe in needlessly leaving the girl in a dirty nappy, and because I couldn’t stand the stench. But I also knew there would be times when she’d need to wait at least a little while for a clean nappy, so it didn’t seem like the worst thing in the world to have her take a moment to adjust to the feeling. What was the change like? When I felt it was time, I went over to her once more, and made a point to crouch down so that I was right above her head and she had little choice but to look up at me. It was my hope that she would feel as small as her dress would indicate she was. “Have you finished pushing all of your poopies out into your nappy, Baby Martha?” I asked. Somehow, her face turned two more shades of red as she gave a little nod. “That’s a clever girl! Upsie daisy, then,” I said, this time putting my hands underneath her armpits and helping her up. When she was up, I cupped my hand against the back of her nappy, giving just a slight pat, which confirmed that there was significantly more weight than before. “Oh yes, good girl, pushing out all of your stinky poopies into your nappies just like you are supposed to.” I wanted to give positive reinforcement whenever she committed babyish acts so that she’d see that those were consistent with being considered a good girl. “Now then, can you wave bye-bye to your dollies for a moment, and we’ll clean up your smelly bum and get you into a fresh nappy?” All this talk of her nappy seemed to make her want to crawl in a hole, but she did wave as she was supposed to, and then I took her by the wrist and led her down the hall from her playroom to the nursery for her change. Once we reached the nursery, it was straight to the changing table. I helped her up, and she sat down with a final squish. I paid it no mind, and moved to lay her back immediately. Being in no mood to prolong anything, she cooperated without incident. I gathered the supplies and then got to work. Opening her nappy made the smell almost unimaginable. I remember hoping that once the prison food was out of her system things might improve, but Walter mentioned later that you usually needed to wait 15 minutes after she’d been to the loo in order for things to clear up, and anyone who has been around the darling knows that a baby food diet has had no difference. I have never truly gotten used to just how unpleasant things are, but back then I could barely compose myself. I somehow just about managed, but I was only too glad to get that nappy into the bin as soon as I could. For her part, Baby Martha actually took the change quite well. I am sure she was happy not to be sitting in the nappy any longer, and no doubt she wasn’t enjoying the smell either. By the time I’d sat her back up, she’d even managed to normalize the color of her face, though the red quickly returned when I asked her if she’d like to go back to her tea party now that she no longer had her smelly nappies on. Still, she did as she was told, and played with the dollies with a bit more energy than she’d been showing just prior to the mess. Does anything else stand out? I seem to recall that period more generally than specifically, but what stands out was how easily our methods worked. I do think that the messy nappy was an important part of breaking any resistance. Having her use her nappy, and see that if she just did as she was told it wouldn’t be so bad, was helpful. And once she’d done it once, each time after that wasn’t so bad, except perhaps the first time it happened around others. I’ve pondered this, and wish we could study it more systematically, but I’m afraid our case study will need to stay under wraps for many more years to come. I suspect that Martha having spent her short period in the prisons prior to coming to see us was also critical to her compliance. She surely didn’t wish to turn into the baby she is now, but I think she could see how it was better than where she’d come from, and she’d been primed to be more obedient than she might otherwise have been for me. After all, the dear was pushing extra poops into her nappy within 18 hours of being home. So we’ve been lucky, but I think we have succeeded in giving the girl a life that may come with its indignities but is also more than tolerable for her, which she couldn’t have said if she’d found herself back within the prison. 4 Link to comment
D503 Posted September 27, 2022 Share Posted September 27, 2022 Amazing chapter! Hope we hear more about Martha. 1 Link to comment
GFOP Posted October 31, 2022 Author Share Posted October 31, 2022 Well, I felt like maybe this should be the last in this series, but I still have one more that I'm not quite happy with, but I wanted to make sure I didn't go too long without updating. That last part will have to come when it is ready. In the meantime, here's the star of Jackie universe, and for once we're getting a close look at her without seeing things through her perspective. Remember, both she and her Mama have incentives to see things their way. You'll have to decide yourself how much of each of their views of things you're going to believe! ___ Who’s a smelly girl? It’s Jackie! “Do I smell a stinky diaper, little girl? Oh, yup, I do! What a baby!” There’s nothing like a dirty diaper to really prove that you have a baby on your hands - whether the person who needs the proof of status is the diapered little one or one of the grown-ups in their company. With our big babies, the stinky diapers are all the proof we need that the wearers are certainly not the adults they once were and might still claim to be. As part of our series on our big baby girls’ first messy diapers, we talked to Jackie’s Mama, Michelle, who wasn’t actually there the first time that Jackie messed. Instead, she told us the story of the first time that she saw Jackie make stinky pants, and the impact that it had on her and her relationship with Jackie. What was going on the first time you saw Baby Jackie make a stinky diaper? Well, it was literally my first day on the job. Back then I was Nanny Michelle to Jackie, not Mama like I am now, and her parents had started babying her about six months before. Her mother had been watching her full time, but she had gotten a really lucrative job offer to get back into practicing law, and she wanted to take it, so they were looking to find someone to watch Jackie. They’d found me online - I was working a few jobs at the time. I was a trainer at a gym during the day, but I was also doing a little bit of dominatrix type work as well. It was mostly just online and phone stuff, but probably one weekend a month or so I’d see a client in person. As that kind of work goes, it was really easy stuff. It was mostly men, although a couple of women too, and since they all were looking for domination, I really had more control than a lot of people in the industry. I’d never let anyone penetrate me - just a lot of worship type stuff - licking my feet or ass or nipples, and sometimes I would let them go down on me. If they were really good, sometimes I’d even let them get off while I was still there, although a lot of the time I denied them that pleasure until after I had left. It wasn’t even exactly sexual for me (even though it was for them), but I just loved the power I could exercise over these losers. And to actually get paid for it was even better. Obviously, the job is not exactly the kind of thing where you can put an ad in the paper or ask the neighbor’s kid to do it. They ended up on my web page (which was really just an old Wordpress), and I think that they were intrigued by my muscles and also by a picture I had of a guy worshiping my tits. They reached out to me, and, you know, we were sort of talking about the job for a few weeks. First, they had to convince me it was legit, which wasn’t that hard to do - they sent me a family pic from her graduation and then a pic of her now. I could tell it was the same person, and with the amount of stuff they obviously had, you could tell they were serious about it. At the same time, they were sort of scouting me out. They asked if I thought I’d be comfortable with it, and were trying to sort of figure out if I had the discretion they needed. And they were also asking if I could lactate, which, of course, I couldn’t at the time. But they asked if I would be willing to see if I could, and I’ve got to say, it was an intriguing question. They showed me that there were pills I could take to try to induce it, and they said that they would pay for it, so I said why not. I ended up meeting individually with each of them for coffees, just so we could all sort of feel each other out, and one night I even went over to their house after Jackie had gone to sleep, just to demonstrate that this was all a real thing. They showed me the highchair, and the playpen, and all of the baby food and everything, so I could see that there was really a big baby living there. By that point I was strongly considering it, obviously, and the last challenge was really just logistical. We all agreed that we wouldn’t really know if I could do it full time until I had actually done it. But to commit to doing it full time, we needed me to quit my job. So we decided that I would quit my job, and they would pay me for the first month up front. If I ended up not wanting to do it, I could quit and keep the money and have some time to get a new gig. They were offering a lot more money than I was making before, so it was basically a two-month cushion. I remember that when the first day finally came around, I was actually a little nervous. It was a Monday morning, and I was going to be going over there like it was a normal day. Her mom was actually going to be at the house for the first few days in case I needed anything, but the plan was that I would be fully in charge. We didn’t want Jackie to ever see me as an authority that could be undermined. Since I had never seen her before, I just wasn’t sure how she would respond to me. I was pretty sure that if she challenged me that I would be more than up for it, but with the work I’d done before, I was obviously getting paid by people who actually wanted to be dominated, so I’d never really encountered serious resistance. I showed up around 7:30, and walked right in through the front door, just as planned. I knew that I just needed to walk straight through the front hall and I would wind up in the kitchen, where Jackie was due to be in the midst of her breakfast. Sure enough, when I entered, I was treated to the sight of her in the highchair, with her face and bib spotted with some stray bits of the oatmeal she was being fed by her mother. I’d seen the picture of her earlier, but seeing it in action was immediately quite something. “Oh, Jackie, that must be your new Nanny!” her mother said. Her coo was something to marvel at. She spoke exactly as you would to a baby, except that there was a subtle but unmissable layer of condescension. “Mommy is going to be going back to work soon, so we needed to find you a new babysitter, didn’t we? Can you say hi?” I strolled over, hoping that I was pulling off the casual confidence I was trying to project. As I got nearer, I got a fuller picture of her, noting that in addition to her little blue bib, she was wearing a little purple nightgown that gathered to puffy, white-laced sleeves. At first I couldn’t actually see her diaper, but as I got slightly to the side, you could see that the back of her nightgown was riding up on the back of the chair, and the hilariously thick padding was peaking out to anyone with the proper vantage point. Jackie’s face showed that her morning had just gotten a lot more embarrassing. Her parents had said that she wouldn’t be told about me ahead of time, as there was simply no need. It wouldn’t change anything, and it absolutely didn’t matter what Jackie thought. When I’d heard that, I’d kind of had to trust them. I loved the idea of just springing a fresh humiliation on her, but I wasn’t sure if she would behave better if it was something she knew was coming and had time to come to grips with. Now that I was here, she was left to simultaneously deal with the relatively rare humiliation of exposure to a stranger while also processing that her mother would be heading back to work and that she’d be left in the care of a new authority. All of this had her blushing, and I could see that there was a lot of hesitancy as she considered my presence. Her mother cleared her throat, causing the two of us to stop considering each other. “I said, can you say hi, Baby Jackie?” she said, still with her faux-chipper tone, though the extra emphasis on the ‘I said’ indicated that there would be consequences if Jackie failed to take action this time. “Hewwo, Nanny,” she lisped hysterically, causing a little bit of oatmeal to drip from her bottom lip down onto her bib. For now, at least, I guess she’d decided she’d need to adjust to the new and humiliating reality of a Nanny rather than resist it. “Good girl,” her mother said. “Hi Baby Jackie, I’ve heard so much about you!” I said, mustering up the most condescending coo I could manage. “And look at you, such a little cutie pie! I could practically eat you!” I reached over and gave her cheek a pinch to emphasize my point. I could tell it made her a little uncomfortable, but she didn’t dare pull away. In truth, she didn’t quite look cute. Her clothes would have been cute on an actual baby, but on an adult, they were completely ridiculous, and when you combined that with her dirty face and her obvious shame at being seen like this, it made her look more ridiculous than cute, really. “OK, let me just finish getting her these last few bites, and then maybe you can give her a bottle?” her mother said, immediately switching gears and talking like Jackie wasn’t even there. “Sounds great,” I replied. “OK, perfect. And then once you are done she’ll definitely need a diaper change - she’s still in her overnight. I just find it easier to feed her in her PJs since sometimes she ends up with food on her clothes, so I just change her afterwards when I dress her for the day.” “Makes sense,” I said. “Babies can be so messy! And I can’t wait to pick out something cute for her!” “You’ll have plenty to choose from, and I daresay we’ve got some good ones!” she said, as she was spooning the last bite into Jackie’s mouth. Jackie was trying to cooperate and make this painless, but I could see that her mother was deliberately putting it just on the very edge of her lips and then kind of turning the spoon to various angles, making it difficult for Jackie to guess where the runny oatmeal might slosh off and causing the mess that continued to grow on her face and bib. Satisfied, she set down the bowl, and I walked over, taking the waiting bottle off the tray in what would become a morning ritual. I walked around behind Jackie, forcing her to look up by putting a forearm to the back of her neck, and placed the bottle to her lips. She knew what was required of her, of course, and opened up to begin slurping down the warm formula. “We’re going to have so much fun together, aren’t we, Baby Jackie?” I cooed, bringing my face down just a few inches from hers and more or less shouting. “Yes we are!” Now I planted an obviously dramatized kiss right between her eyeballs. “But first, your Mommy says you have pee-pees in your diaper that you need me to change. Is that true?” I reached the hand that wasn’t holding the bottle down under the hem of her little nightgown, between her legs, and just inside the leak guard of her diaper, which, of course, I found soaked. Jackie squirmed at the intrusion, but didn’t really fight back, and she kept sucking away on the bottle. “Oh, yes, that’s a lot of pee-pees, huh princess?” I asked, as she closed her eyes and her cheeks turned even more scarlet. “That’s okay,” I continued, “I know baby girls like you can’t control your pee-pees and poo-poos, can you? That’s why we need to keep you in diapers, isn’t it?” Jackie just kept suckling the bottle, which was all she really could do with me keeping it firmly between her lips with her head turned back. I was enjoying the opportunity to tease her without her even being able to squirm away. Her parents had let me know that a big part of their decision to regress her was that she always tried to manipulate and control the people around her by demanding that she get her way and suggesting that anyone who thought anything different than her was doing things wrong and was a total idiot. They’d even showed me some text messages from around her graduation that had apparently sealed the deal, and they did reveal a bit of a monster who was always accusing everyone but her of ruining everything, embarrassing her, or just generally being beneath her. Now, in her compromised position, she had little choice but to defer to the authority and superiority of the actual adults in the room. If she still felt like they were just idiots wasting her time, she at least had the good sense to keep it to herself. She finished up before too much more time had passed, so it was time to clean her up. I found a clean corner of her bib, and used it to wipe the rest of the oatmeal off of her face, then took it off and balled it up so that no oatmeal would fall off in transit to her room where I could drop it in the laundry basket. In no time, I had replaced her pacifier and removed the tray from the highchair, which I set on the table beside the chair. “Let’s get you out, huh baby girl?” I said, as I bent down to release the strap around her waist. Next was my first little surprise for Jackie, as I slid my hands up into her armpits, prompting a look of confusion from her. “Upsy-daisy, little one,” I cooed, lifting her clean out of the seat and shifting her straight to my hip. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around my torso and her arms around my shoulders. Her face was a hilarious mix of surprise and terror, as she clearly hadn’t been picked up like this in a long time and didn’t think anyone would be able to. Honestly, at that time it was near the edge of what I could do safely, although now I do it enough that it is quite easy for me. Still, I wanted to make her feel even smaller, and the increasing wonder on her face as I carried her up to her room suggested that I was succeeding. Entering her nursery, I quickly found the changing table and brought Jackie straight over to it and set her down in a seated position. “Hands up, Baby Jackie!” I ordered, and I grabbed the hem of her nightgown and began to pull it up. She raised her arms compliantly, and I brought it all the way over her head and off. The laundry basket was right next to the table, so I dropped both the nighty and the bib that I was still holding into it. I turned my attention back to Jackie, who was quite a sight on the table. She had just stayed sitting there, sucking her binky uselessly. She was now topless, and the way that she sat hunched forward a little with her shoulders slumped together unconfidently had the effect of making her boobs almost look like baby fat, especially since the rest of her body was generally a little doughy due to her lack of any exercise beyond crawling between rooms as instructed. Of course, the obviously swollen, cartoonishly thick diaper that swallowed up even the lower half of her belly helped with that as well. “Let’s pick out an outfit for you, then we will get you changed, ok baby?” I asked, although of course she had no actual choice but to wait for me to decide that the soaked diaper would come off. I turned to her closet, which was a really nice walk in where just about everything was hung up along the three walls. I imagine it was once full of high-end clothes that her parents had bought for her, but now it was full of nothing but ridiculously oversized baby outfits. It was easy enough to pick out the pattern, with pajamas on the shorter back wall, dresses on the left and onesies and little outfits over on the right. There was also a set of drawers under the pajamas, which I crossed over to and checked out, finding drawers full of socks, tights, booties and mittens, ruffled diaper covers, bonnets and hair accessories, and one with just about every color pacifier imaginable. My options were almost overwhelming. There must have been at least 30 or 40 dresses in there, and maybe more on the other side. From the couple of pictures I’d seen from her parents and then seeing her in the little nightgown this morning, I’d been inclined to go for one of the really over-the-top dresses, especially given how much they showed off her diapers, but now that I was in the room, some of the ridiculous outfits over on the other wall were catching my eye. I think it was that I’d never contemplated that such hilarious and embarrassing things could possibly exist. There were shortalls and rompers, but I also saw a few things that were more costumey than anything else. Halloween had just passed a couple of days before, and I found myself particularly drawn to one outfit I saw that was clearly seasonal. When I pulled it down off the rack to look closer, I immediately knew it was the one. It was a onesie that was mostly bright orange, but at the top it had an irregular little green collar, and clipped to the hangar was a little green sun cap with a brown little “stem” sticking out of the top, along with a matching pair of leggings. Across the front of the onesie, in black embroidered letters, it read “Lil’ Pumpkin.” It was totally absurd, and I knew I wanted to see Jackie in it. Turning to the drawers, I grabbed a green pacifier and some orange leggings to compliment the look, and then re-emerged from the closet with a big grin on my face. “What did you choose?” her mother asked excitedly. I held it up, still on the hanger. “Oh, I’m so glad! I ended up not using that for Halloween, but I absolutely loved it! I can’t wait to see it.” “Me too! So silly! But first, Baby Jackie, let’s get you out of your icky diapies, huh baby? Nanny is going to get you allll cleaned up. Lay back for me now.” She did as she was told. I grabbed a fresh diaper from under the table, and brought the wipes and powder a little closer. Finally, I got to work on the tapes, and in no time Jackie was left completely exposed in front of me with a shamefully yellowed diaper underneath her. “Oh yes, you did so much pee pee in your diaper, didn’t you little one?” Jackie had turned her chin up and was looking at the wall behind her, which is a strategy I now know that she employs during virtually all changes. Still, I could see her take a deep breath and clench her teeth around the nipple of her pacifier as the remark cut a little. “Lift up those legs for me, princess!” She complied, and even as she did I grabbed the backs of her crossed ankles, pushing them up to ensure that she would stay out of my way. I took stock, now seeing her bottom up, cheeks spread apart from her legs being up, and her privates totally exposed. She was completely dependent, with no choice to let me clean her up like the useless little wetter she’d become. I wiped her, making sure to take a little extra time to be demonstratively thorough. Next, it was time for baby powder. I used way more than I had to, but I took my time really rubbing it in, noting Jackie’s tensing reaction at the close attention being paid to both her vagina and her butt hole by a more or less total stranger. In no time, she once again had thirsty padding taped up between her legs. I helped her scooch a little closer to the edge of the changing table, then got to work on getting her leggings on. I worked them over her feet and up her legs, then pushed her legs back up to the diaper changing position to get them over her diaper. The diaper still poked up over the waistband, but even if it hadn’t you wouldn’t have been able to miss that that was the underwear Jackie had on. I sat her up next, and brought the onesie over her head, before helping her to the floor so that I could close the snaps in her crotch. The thick padding made her entire midsection bulge comically, and I was beginning to realize that there was not really anything Jackie could wear that would be able to conceal her most shameful garment. Finally, I topped her off with the hat, and switched out her pacifier for the one that better matched. I stepped back to examine. Jackie made a hilarious sight. She didn’t, of course, look like an actual pumpkin, but the effect read perfectly. She looked just like a baby on their first Halloween, only ridiculously sized up and obviously embarrassed to be standing before me. What do you remember about the first time Baby Jackie actually messed? Once I had her dressed, I wanted to take her outside to play in the yard. It just felt like the kind of outfit that needed to be outside, and it was a pretty pleasant day since the real autumn chill was still a few weeks from taking hold. “Let’s go play, huh my little pumpkin?” I cooed, though I certainly wasn’t asking Jackie’s opinion on the matter. I picked her back up and headed back through the kitchen to the slider. I happened to see that there was a silly little pair of childish velcro sneakers there, which was the only way I remembered that she didn’t have any shoes on. I sat her down on the counter, quickly bent down, and had them on her feet in no time. We were back on our way and soon I was considering the options of how I wanted her to play now that I had her out there. I scanned around the yard. It was large and private, but it wasn’t overly laden with options for Jackie, since in our part of Virginia the summer was awfully hot and the winter was usually too cold. Plus, since it was basically just Jackie, there wasn’t a need for too many options. Still, each of the items I saw presented intriguing ideas for fun. There was a small swingset with what more or less looked like a baby swing, though it was wooden and clearly a little larger so that Jackie could fit into it. There was a plastic children’s slide, which was comically small, and also a little ride-on, foot powered truck, that looked like it would almost be painful for her to sit on. Finally, there was a modestly sized sandbox. I found myself wanting to spend a few minutes talking with her mom, so I decided to take her over to the sandbox. I set her down directly on her bottom in the sand, and motioned to the small plastic shovel and set of pails. “Can you make a little castle, baby? It should be perfect for a little princess like you!” I left her there, and her mother and I retreated a short distance to the comfortable chairs on the deck. “Seems like you are doing pretty well so far?” she asked. “Oh, yeah, this is pretty fun,” I answered, barely hiding my enthusiasm. “I’m glad you think so. It does get to be a little bit of a chore at times, but it seems like you are a total natural. I can tell she already knows exactly who is in charge.” “You think so? I couldn’t believe how well-behaved she was in her nursery, but I figured that was just because you were there.” “Oh, I don’t know. She is pretty well-behaved normally, but new situations are usually where she tends to act up. So for her to so quickly accept you is saying something.” “Huh,” I responded, feeling my confidence growing a little. In truth, I had expected a lot more difficulty. I looked over at Jackie, and saw that she was diligently engaged in the task I’d set her to. She only had a couple of cylindrical pails, and the sand was very dry, so frankly the castle looked terrible. “Has it always been this easy?” I continued. “I have to say, based on what you told me and showed me, I expected that she’d be pretty difficult to handle.” “It definitely took a while,” her mother answered. “At first, there were all sorts of tantrums and tirades. Getting her in her first diaper was a whole ordeal, and at first we had to use big mittens to keep them on her. And we heard a lot about how we were just proving that we were terrible, and so on and so forth. The first few weeks were pretty exhausting.” “Yeah, I mean, that’s what I expected. How did you get here then?” “Well, we tried a bunch of things. It’s hard to be sure exactly what worked. Mouth soapings seemed to be pretty effective, and we also used a strap on her pacifier to keep it in her mouth and keep her a little quieter. We also figured out that timeouts or early bedtimes were surprisingly effective. Just leaving her somewhere contained with absolutely nothing to do and nobody to yell at seemed to subdue her. Plus, you know, it gave us a way to basically ignore her whining. And I think it also helped her realize that we were in control of her comfort. One day we put her to bed at like 2 for bad behavior, and the rule was that any instance of fussing earned her another hour in the morning, so she was ultimately in there all swaddled up until about 10. When we finally got her up she was all sweaty and her diaper was so wet that she stunk of pee and she even seemed to be eager for a bottle and some baby food. And things like that increasingly got her to behave for longer and longer. Plus, I think it was exhausting for her too. So, I know she doesn’t like it, and there are still plenty of times where her face shows me she still thinks all of this and all of us are totally beneath her, but she’s learned to more-or-less behave and keep her bratty little opinions to herself.” “Well, it sounds like I should thank you for all that work then. And for those tips.” I said. “Oh, of course,” she replied. “I am sure you will find your own things that work well for you. And she’ll just have to adjust to you.” I was about to respond about how I already had a few ideas, but as I started I noticed that Jackie had suddenly changed her relatively predictable pattern over in the sandbox. She’d been kneeling, dutifully using the shovel to fill the pail and then turning it over into the little line that represented the wall of her castle. But now, she had put down the shovel and had both hands in the sand, and had bent a little at the waist. “Is she…?” I quietly mumbled to her mother, nodding my head in her general direction. “I think so,” she said. “Should be pretty obvious in a second or two.” I kept looking on, and sure enough, it did become pretty obvious pretty quickly. She was facing sideways in relation to us, and so we had a good look as her face scrunched up and she bent further in an obvious push. She repeated it a couple times, and then frowned in discomfort as she straightened somewhat. The onesie had too much give to show any obvious addition to her diaper, and there was a breeze that easily prevented the smell from making it over to us. Still, it was hard to miss that she’d just soiled her diaper in a far more significant way than the one I’d changed her out of only about half an hour earlier. “Wow, just like that?” I said to her mother, still feeling like I should talk quietly for some reason. “It’s been like, 20 minutes.” “I guess she had to go,” her mother said in a tone that made it clear that this was much less novel for her. “You mean she can’t hold it?” “Oh, well, I think she can. At least for her messes. My guess is actually not really for her pee at this point. But there isn’t a whole lot of point in holding it for too long, I guess. She knows she’ll be doing it eventually.” “I guess you have really made it clear to her that she’s just a baby now,” I said, and noticing that she’d gone back to making her sandcastle as instructed, I added, “She doesn’t even ask for a change afterwards?” “Oh, the rule is that babies don’t know when they have wet or dirty diapers, so she isn’t allowed to say anything or acknowledge them. She isn’t even allowed to answer if you ask directly. If she does, she automatically gets at least an extra two hours before her change, so it’s a rule she follows very closely.” “Oh, I see why she would,” I said. “Since she hasn’t, do I owe her a change?” “If you want to, but I usually wait at least a little while. Sometimes there is a little bit of a second wave, and I don’t like to be changing diapers all day. Plus, she’s always on her best behavior when she really needs a change. But no need to hide that you know either, if you were thinking of checking her or having her do something else.” “I was, actually,” I answered, getting up as I did. I wanted to test how she would react to my coming over and exposing her. How did she react? As I walked over, I decided that I’d play dumb for just a second before acknowledging her deed. I wasn’t really sure whether she had heard our conversation, though she surely could tell that I already knew what she’d done. But I felt like it would be fun to see whether she would be able to maintain her faux-ignorance about the state of her diapers in the face of my probing. Arriving at the sandbox, I stood over the kneeling girl and bent down, hoping that it made her feel as small as possible. I could smell her mess, but it wasn’t really all that bad in the open air. “Alright, pumpkin, can you show me that castle that you built?” Jackie wasn’t allowed to say much, and she looked around a little, seemingly trying to figure out what she could say without overstepping. There wasn’t really all that much to show off, as the dry sand had not held much of a shape, and so rather than clean “towers” she really just had made a ring of about 15 piles of sand around her. Finally, she ventured an answer. “Cathull,” she lisped, her pacifier magnifying the hilarity of her faked little girl’s voice that she’d demonstrated earlier. She motioned her shovel at the mounds of sand. “Yes, very good!” I said, acting as though I was impressed. “You did great! Now, let’s get you cleaned off a little so we can play with your other toys.” I put my hands under her arms and helped her to her feet. The knees and ankles of her leggings were quite covered in sand, and I brushed it off of her, then moved around her, repeating the motion on the back of her legs, but also quite deliberately making a heavy brush on the not-at-all-sandy seat of her diaper. Even just using a brushing motion, I could feel a smush, and while she said nothing, her reaction indicated that it hadn’t been pleasant for her. I’d decided that she’d be doing a lot of sitting before we went inside, so now seemed like the time to call her out. “Uh oh, baby girl, I think I felt something in there. Did you go poopies in your diaper?” Jackie was blushing terribly, and didn’t meet my eyes. Hooking my arm around her, I picked her right up and held her about waist high, and bent over to give her a dramatic sniff. It was actually a move I probably shouldn’t have done because I wasn’t really strong enough yet to hold her for very long, but I was able to get the desired effect before I set her down again. “Uh oh, we’ve got a rotten little pumpkin on our hands! You’re all stinky in there, aren’t you baby Jackie?” I teased. She was tearing up a little, but other than her obvious mortification she never did break the rule and acknowledge anything. “Oh, don’t cry, baby,” I continued cooing. “It’s alright, we just changed your diapers, so we don’t have to take you inside to change you just yet - you can still play for a little while longer! Here, come with me.” Jackie didn’t seem to love the “reprieve” I had given her, but she allowed me to lead her by the hand from the sandbox to the tiny little toy truck I’d seen earlier, then ease her down onto it. She made a wretched face behind her pacifier as she made contact with the seat of the toy, and she looked miserable as she settled on the toy. Her knees came up well above the handlebars she was holding onto, and it was clear that propelling it with her feet would be a significant chore, especially on the grass. The plastic handle on the back, which would have helped a parent push a much lighter rider, made it so she couldn’t lean back much at all, leaving her very upright and with all of her weight right on the seat of her diaper. “Why don’t you ride over to mommy, pumpkin? And don’t forget that you have your little buttons to play with. You can make the horn go beep-beep! Won’t that be fun?” Her mother was no more than maybe 40 feet away, but on this mode of transportation and surface, that was nowhere near as simple a task as it might have sounded. She did push the little horn, then got started, pulling herself forward one short step at a time. It was extremely rough going, and after only about 10 steps, which had maybe gotten her 10 feet, she switched tactics from using one foot at a time to setting both out in front of her and using them to pull her forward. Since she was unable to really stretch her body by stretching her back back, each “stride” was very short. I had positioned myself between her and her mother, and was particularly paying attention to her face. At the very beginning of her ride, I sensed that her facial contortions were mostly related to the mess squishing around in her diaper, but eventually it was obvious that her focus had shifted to the effort required to propel herself. “Let’s see what some of those other buttons do, baby,” I encouraged. I’d started to realize that saying things as if they were casual suggestions would absolutely (and correctly) be interpreted as orders to be followed. Jackie looked up at me. Her face didn’t hide her annoyance with my request. Still, she did as she was told, pressing a button near her left hand which caused the chorus of “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” to play. “See, wasn’t that fun! Make sure you keep pressing those buttons!” She did so once more on her slow journey to the edge of the deck, this time causing a snippet of “The Entertainer'' to play. It certainly didn’t seem to be capturing her attention, but it also offered her a brief respite from the somewhat physical task I’d assigned her. “Good girl!” I said when she arrived. “Now why don’t you turn around and head over to your slide, baby?” Jackie took a deep breath. Perhaps she’d hoped she’d be done. Instead, she was forced to stand up and turn the toy around towards the slide, which was even further away. She grimaced again as the disgusting parcel in her pants touched down on the seat once more, then got started on the difficult trek. Jackie inched her way over, while I effortlessly ambled to the same destination in just a couple dozen simple, slow steps. When she finally did arrive after a couple minutes, she was breathing heavily and she was quite flushed. I was sort of enjoying putting her through such physical exertions for such a silly purpose, but I had other plans for her so I let her off the hook. “Time for the slide, baby!” I announced, beckoning her over to me. Jackie maneuvered herself off of the toy, and wearily stepped over to the kiddie slide’s steps. The slide only barely came up to her waist, so the presence of three stairs was almost more of an obstacle than an aid. Still, she put a hand on both of the plastic sides of the toy and began to step. As she climbed, I made a point of “helping” her by placing a firm hand on her diapered bum and guiding her up, which gave me the opportunity to further smash the increasingly wide lump of poop into her backside. When she reached the top, she carefully found a way to sit on the top with her legs facing down. Her feet were less than a foot from the bottom, which really illustrated the ridiculousness of an adult using the toy. “Don’t forget to say ‘wee’ as you go down the slide, Jackie!” I said, then gave her a little push. “Wee,” she lisped, though without any significant enthusiasm. Her leggings helped her gain a bit of speed, but there was really little time before she hit the ground. “Yaaaay,” I exclaimed. “Now come back to nanny and we can do it again!” She flipped over to her knees, crawling the few strides to me. I hadn’t actually seen her crawl yet, but I found that quite fun as well. When she arrived, I bent over and helped her to her feet, getting her back to the slide and repeating the whole exercise. I must have kept her going for at least five or ten minutes, with the look on her face as the mess smashed against the slide keeping me plenty entertained even if she wasn’t. Eventually, though, it was time to move on. The next time she crawled back, I picked her up and boosted her onto my hip instead of helping direct her onto the slide. “Snack time, baby!” I exclaimed chipperly, my face just inches from hers. I walked back over to the deck and took Jackie inside, once again placing her on the counter to take off her shoes. Once that was completed, I took Jackie over to the couch. She looked a little disappointed not to be getting a change first, but, given what I’d already seen this morning, I knew that she was at least somewhat used to waiting until after she’d eaten for a clean diaper. I was actually pretty nervous at this point, because it was time for my first attempt at breastfeeding Jackie. I’d been taking the pills for a month now, and could pump a bit of milk, but I hadn’t actually had anyone feed directly from them. Her parents had also told me that, while she’d been breastfed once before, it was a difficult experience, so I wasn’t sure how Jackie would react. Still, I tried to project confidence as I situated her across my lap. “Alright, baby, Nanny has some milk for you to drink right from her boobies. Won’t that be yummy?” Jackie’s face contorted into a look of horror, and I felt her tense up. I tightened my grip on her shoulder as a reminder that my strength was not going to allow her to go anywhere. “Won’t that be yummy, baby Jackie?” I said, with a hint of menace in my voice. “Yeth, Nanny,” she lisped, though it was barely audible, and completely unconvincing. “I’m glad you’re excited, little one!” I said, as if I had taken her response for genuine enthusiasm. In all honesty, I was really just enjoying her resignation to the fact that if I said she was going to be breastfed, then that was what was going to happen. The domination was intoxicating. I lifted my shirt off, then adjusted my nursing bra to reveal my left breast. “Here you go, princess!” I said, pulling her face straight up and burying it in my bosom. There was a moment’s pause, and Jackie was looking up at me with desperate eyes. I simply gave her a patronizing smile, and just a second later she reluctantly slipped her lips around my nipple and began sucking. She had to suck much harder than she would on a bottle (especially the beginning of a bottle), and for a couple of seconds she didn’t get any milk. It was quite different than having the pump attached, and I was briefly worried that she wouldn’t get any reward for her efforts. She even looked up at me with a questioning look for a moment, though she kept on slurping desperately and I continued to hold her in tight. Still, I could feel that there was some milk there, and sure enough, she eventually recoiled slightly in what seemed to be disgust when the first squirt reached her tongue. After her initial response, though, she kept dutifully sucking away, finally discovering a rhythm that delivered my milk into her mouth. The initial anxiety over her reaction and whether it would actually work assuaged, I looked up at Jackie’s mother, who was seated on the adjacent loveseat. She raised her eyebrows at me, and then gave a big smile and a little thumbs up. I smiled too. The day was proving easier than I think either of us expected, which was a great sign that my authority would take easily. I really was not producing too much milk yet, so it was only a few minutes before I could feel that Jackie had drained that breast and it was time to switch. “Did you make that one go all gone, little one?” I asked. “You must have been thirsty for Nanny’s milk! Don’t worry, there is more in the other one!” I released the other nipple, then gently shifted her head from one breast to the next. As she began again, I looked down at her. She was nursing diligently now, with a focused look as she stared ahead at the breast she was sucking on. She made quite a sight. Busily nursing from my breasts while curled up in my lap, still wearing her ridiculous pumpkin outfit, and with an obviously bulging diaper underneath that was increasingly filling the room with the smell of her disgraceful deed, the only major difference between Jackie and an actual baby that you would sense if you walked in just then was that she was much too big for her role. After a few more minutes, she had drained the second breast as well. I was feeling a little tender, so while I had fully enjoyed putting her through the humiliating feeding, I was glad enough to be done. (Eventually, I realized that tenderness was mostly because she wasn’t really latching onto my nipples the way an infant would, and I taught her how to do so properly, which has eliminated my discomfort even as it has added to her embarrassment.) I eased her off of the nipple and turned her head up to look at me. She met my eyes sheepishly. “You drank all of Nanny’s milk, didn’t you, baby? You must have been very hungry! I’ll have some of that every day for you to help you grow nice and big!” She said nothing, but she averted her eyes. Presumably she had already figured out that this feeding wouldn’t be a one-off, but between having to acknowledge that she had just completed the most intimate and babyish feeding possible, and that she’d be doing it daily, was clearly humiliating. “Alright, let’s make sure we get out your burps, baby!” I said, beginning to shift her into a more upright position. In a few seconds, I had her seated on my knee, with her face resting on my shoulder. I began to pat her back, and also began to bounce her a little on my knee, causing her messy diaper to squish around even further. She produced a couple of perfunctory burps relatively quickly, but I kept the act up for a few minutes more to be sure. Eventually, though, the pungent aroma of her diaper reached the point where I decided I’d rather change her than continue to torment her. I was actually surprised that the smell hadn’t been more bothersome. It absolutely stank, to be sure, but knowing what that smell represented made it somehow less offensive than if I’d walked into a bathroom and been greeted by it. “Alright, my rotten pumpkin,” I said, pushing her torso off of my shoulder so that I could speak directly into her face. “Let’s get you out of that poopy diaper.” Still without her pacifier, she simultaneously blushed at the fresh mention of her used diaper (and quite possibly the thought of a dirty change from a relative stranger) and seemed to slightly smile at the thought of being clean. I wondered what insults you would have received if you told the complete brat who’d graduated college six month earlier that the thought of getting taped into a fresh diaper would make her smile with relief, and grinned a little myself. I picked up her binky from the couch next to me, placed it in her mouth, then placed her on the ground and had her crawl ahead of me and her mother into the nursery. What was the change like? Once we got into her room, she crawled straight over to the foot of the changing table, and I boosted her up onto it, smashing the poop against her skin one more time. I helped her lay back, and undid the snaps on her onesie. I adjusted the tails so that they were out of the way, and then got to work sliding her leggings down to her mid-ankles, leaving her diaper exposed. The print hid any discoloration, but the seat had a bulge that hadn’t existed when I’d taped the diaper on her about 90 minutes earlier. I turned to grab a new diaper, and took a deep breath. I was a little bit nervous again, mostly because I just wasn’t sure how I’d react to changing a dirty diaper. I was encouraged by the fact that I hadn’t been as bothered by the smell as I’d anticipated, and I’d enjoyed tormenting her by repeatedly finding reasons to press the mess into her with my hands and my knee. But now I was going to actually deal with the smeared poop. I’d thought about it before and obviously decided that I’d be able to deal with it, but this was the moment of truth, and probably the last thing that might make me question whether I’d do this job long-term. Returning to the table, I once again decided that the best bet was to try to project absolute confidence. Looking at Jackie, still wearing her silly hat and laying on her back with her ankles awkwardly held together by her tights, it was easy to feel in control of the situation With all the supplies in place, I ripped back the four tapes of her diaper and opened it to reveal it’s stinking contents. Immediately, the smell intensified a little further. I raised her legs to assess the mess I was dealing with. She was truly filthy. Her butt crack was definitely the worst of it, but the poop had smeared onto her cheeks as well, and had also spread well down into her crotch, with some even just about reaching her vagina. The poop wasn’t entirely solid, and so there weren’t distinct logs, but it seemed like about half of it had stuck to the diaper when I peeled it away and the rest was concentrated between her cheeks. I couldn’t imagine how miserable it must have been to play and eat in it over the last hour, but since it wasn’t me, I found that image kind of thrilling. She was also really quite sodden, which surprised me, since she’d been soaked when I changed her overnight earlier. “Ooh, you really are a poopy girl, aren’t you Jackie?” I asked. “No wonder your Mommy and Daddy have to keep you in your diapers. Such a stinky princess!” Jackie flushed extremely deeply, making sure to keep her focus deeply concentrated on the ceiling to make sure that she didn’t meet my eyes. I couldn’t blame her. I’d already seen her in several compromising positions this morning, but this had to be easily the most humiliating. I lifted her legs even higher, forcing her bum and lower back all the way off the table. Having the leggings around her ankles helped force her knees apart and also helped spread cheeks apart, which promised to help with the clean-up. I grabbed the first wipe and got to work, starting on the outer edges of the mess on her cheeks. Eventually, I had to get right into the meat of the matter, plunging a clean wipe right into the center of her crack, helping to clear the mass of poop that had become to her backside. Even through the wipe, I felt like I was really touching the soft poop, but it wasn’t terrible, and while I needed two more wipes to completely clean her crack, I’d finished the worst of it. Finally, I got to carefully cleaning her vagina and front, and suddenly I was more or less done. Dropping the last wipe on top of the open diaper, I carefully rolled it up and taped the bundle together before setting it aside. Next, I opened the fresh diaper and moved it underneath the waiting girl. Now that she was cleaned up, she looked stunningly at ease. I wouldn’t say she seemed happy, but this probably was the most relaxed I’d seen her. It really seemed like the first few seconds after a messy diaper were cleaned up here the best part of the day. Once again, I thought of how the old Jackie who thought she was better than everybody would have reacted to the scene before me now. In no time, I had her powdered back up again and that new diaper was taped tightly to her belly. I slid the tights back up her legs and soon she was back into her completely ridiculous pumpkin regalia. I got her back off of the table and onto her hands and knees, and soon we were heading back out to the living room to see what other humiliating baby items we could find for Jackie to entertain herself (but really us) with. Does anything else stand out? I just remember how her messing so early, and then the change that followed it, completely put me at ease. I’d been worried that Jackie would be difficult to handle, but her messing within the first hour or so that she met me really illustrated that she had no fight in her. And the way that she just took the change, and almost behaved better in order to get herself to one, was amazing. You could see that she was absolutely humiliated by it all, but that she’d also learned that any sort of misbehavior would only make it worse. And sure, I had to deal with the rather dirty task of cleaning her up, but I got to do it whenever I felt like it, and in the meantime she had no choice but to deal with the far worse reality of sitting in it, knowing that everyone else could smell her and that she’d still have to do whatever babyish thing I instructed her to until I was ready to end her misery. By 11:00 that morning, I knew this was going to be my job for a long time. I was already thinking of so many things I could have Jackie do, and I knew that Jackie would reluctantly comply with whatever I came up with. Her messing her diaper so readily had proved to me that she really was a big baby (whether she thought of herself that way or not), and made me sure that I wanted to explore pushing her as far into it as possible while making sure she never forgot just how embarrassed she should be to be in her position. 7 2 Link to comment
StonerColdFox Posted October 31, 2022 Share Posted October 31, 2022 Wow! Great new chapter! The Jackie Universe is just on a whole other level in terms of sadism. I want to see how far it can go, but at the same time I also want things to get better for Jackie and maybe for Nanny Michelle to piss her pants and have her bottom blistered ? Thank you for blessing us with this masterpiece nonetheless ? Your work is always a breath of fresh air. 2 Link to comment
Shotgun Diplomat Posted October 31, 2022 Share Posted October 31, 2022 Interesting addition. It is nice to get a solid new point of view with regards to the why of the baby treatment, especially in the case of Jackie. In all of your previous stories Jackie has been the main focus- if not the narrator, you sympathize. And, from her point of view she didn't deserve the babying (arguably no one deserves such a long lasting punishment ((treatment?)(torture?)). But, from the perspective of the (and I hesitate to apply this word to her jailors) family she most certainly did deserve it for being manipulative towards friends and loved ones. Very much looking forward to whenever you have more to post. Thanks a bunch, have a gooder! 1 Link to comment
D503 Posted November 1, 2022 Share Posted November 1, 2022 Yes, I love the slight shift in perspective in both the brattiness of Jackie and the glee/cruelty of her "carers". There isn't even an idea that Jackie would try to or even be justified in trying to escape - in their mind she deserves this treatment and all the added accoutrements. In some ways Jackie is too passive for a true sadist - which makes Nanny an interesting case - it's just enough to "own" a baby and occasionally show her off. No doubt sharing the humiliations provides added incentive to all the members. Link to comment
GFOP Posted November 3, 2022 Author Share Posted November 3, 2022 Yeah, I think pretty much all of these CGs (with the exception of Julia and possibly Tory's "parents") have gotten themselves into an indefensible position, and there is a degree to which they are constantly either consciously or subconsciously rationalizing to themselves and others that they are actually doing the right thing. This is only more true here, when they are telling their stories in "public." As far as Nanny (now Mama) goes, in my mind she loves having the power over what she considers to be "losers," and as soon as she realized how defeated Jackie was, she was hooked. Something about pushing around one of the losers helps confirm for her that she definitely isn't one! 2 Link to comment
rienrien Posted November 3, 2022 Share Posted November 3, 2022 Poor Jackie can't even headline her own cinematic universe lol. What a great reveal for the mysterious Michele. And we still don't know how Jackie's parents feel about "Mama's" little sex games. 1 Link to comment
GFOP Posted December 29, 2022 Author Share Posted December 29, 2022 And we're back! This took way longer than I would have thought to get to a place that I was happy with, but here is the last installment in the series (for now). Increasingly, I think I'll pop onto here with some random little short explorations/variations of a theme at some point in the future, but I bet I won't do a full round of all 9 babies the same way that I did for this topic and updates will probably be random and out-of-left-field since I have another project that I want to get to and share next. Hope people enjoy this! ----- Who’s a smelly girl? It’s Shelly! “Wow, you really pooped your pants! I can’t believe it!” Dirty diapers are about the most embarrassing thing our babies can do. And that makes the first couple of times they have to do it in front of anyone new all the more embarrassing. But, I guess, when you’ve got to go, you’ve got to go, and you can only hold it for so long no matter who might be around to witness the spectacle. For this final installment of our series on our babies’ first messy diapers, I was going to interview Baby Shelly and I’s mother, since she was the one who was there for Shelly’s first actual stinky diaper. But, I know that story, and it’s a little less exciting than you might think since it happened while Shelly was in her crib for an early bedtime, so Mom only saw it on a baby monitor. So, since I am the one who writes these, I figured I’d take the liberty of telling you about the first time that she made a messy little present for her favorite big sister to change. What was going on the first time you saw Baby Shelly make a stinky diaper? It was my third time babysitting Shelly after her regression. I’m seven years older than her, so I babysat her sometimes when I was like 13 or 14, but obviously this was a lot different than that was! Shelly had become quite a problem for our entire family, and I have to say that, especially then, I was pretty happy to have a chance to be babysitting and maybe extract a little bit of enjoyment from her punishment after all the trouble that she’d caused us over the last year or so. In a lot of ways, I was lucky, because I’d had to deal with it less than my parents or my sister. My grandfather started a commercial real estate company a few years before he had my dad, and eventually he, my dad, and my mom built it into a pretty big regional player in the market. When grandpa retired, he was adamant about making sure that the business helped keep the family together rather than tearing us apart, which they can do sometimes. So he came up with a pretty novel scheme that placed both of my parents on the board of directors and guaranteed me and each of my sisters a spot on the board as soon as we graduated college. There were a few other tricks to it, which basically required that we all be present for each meeting in order to make some recurring decisions that needed to be made by the board. The whole system could be a little bit clunky, but to grandpa’s credit, it pretty much worked. Both me and our middle sister, Gina, took jobs within the company as well as our seats on the board when we graduated and we were able to do well. After about five years, I actually left the job to start my own communications firm, but I still do about half of my consulting for the company as part of that, and of course I’m on the board, so it’s not like I’ve really gone far. And Gina has been slowly rising through the company, not even needing to rely on nepotism for her promotions. But then came Shelly. After she graduated, she wanted to start in the HR department. She’d always had a major gossip streak, and, in hindsight, that side of her probably picked HR just because she desperately wanted to be in the know. I feel like we would have been better off if we had said no and put her somewhere like the social media team, but we never anticipated that it would be nearly as big of a deal as it became. But Shelly was an immediate disaster. She did basically her work, but apparently all of the sudden the number of rumors flying around the company was ridiculous. It didn’t take that long for people to realize that she was the source, and Mom and Dad told her that she needed to exercise some discretion. She said she would, but it didn’t really even slow down for a second. For a while, that just put everyone in a really awkward position. In some ways, maybe we’d all just been lucky before that Gina and I had both come in and had a lot of success at the company and gotten along with people well even though you could imagine things being awkward because our parents were in charge. And if anyone secretly thought we were just the beneficiaries of nepotism, then Shelly was absolutely hammering home their point. She definitely would have been fired after a few months if she had been anyone else. But since she was family she probably got more chances than anyone else would have. And, of course, that came back to bite us all in the ass. There was a situation where one employee had filed a grievance against their manager for inappropriate conduct. It was fairly serious, and required a careful investigation to determine what had happened and what needed to be done next. Shelly wasn’t nearly senior enough to know the whole story, but she knew enough to know more than most people, and so of course that meant that soon the whole company knew the gist of the complaint. That was really bad, because it meant that the manager basically had to quit before the investigation was over because of the damage to his reputation. Apparently, the way the investigation was going, he probably would have been fired, but instead since Shelly had broken procedure, he could have sued and the company had to pay him a pretty serious severance in order to prevent that. And in the meantime, the employee felt like we’d basically given the guy a sweet deal when that was really only because of Shelly, and so we lost her too. That was the last straw. It wasn’t really needed, but the head of HR did a little investigation and confirmed that it really was Shelly who had been the source of the rumors. So, that was it. Mom and dad had to tell her she couldn’t work there any more. She, of course, complained constantly that they were being unfair, but I think they’d been more than fair to her. They even let her move back in with them during the period where she was looking for a job. Of course, getting fired from the family business is a pretty lousy piece to have on your resume, so she wasn’t exactly getting a lot of job offers. The whole time she was texting me and Gina trying to convince us they were being unfair, but we weren’t really all that sympathetic, since if anything they probably should have fired her sooner. All of that happened about a month before our next board meeting. When it came around, Shelly came as she had been since her graduation, and it was a little bit…uncomfortable. We talked about some of the big targets that we had and what we planned to bid for them over the next quarter, and then formally approved a couple of resolutions relating to those bids so that we could go to the bank for funding. Shelly sulked and moaned her way through the meeting, which was annoying, but we were getting good at ignoring her complaints, and at least she wasn’t too disruptive to the actual business. After that, though, we had the worst quarter we’d ever had since I was part of the company. Our biggest competitor made moves to buy all of the properties that we were trying to buy, and kept putting us in really difficult positions. We bought one building for way more than we wanted to, but for everything else, we missed out. They also kept slightly undercutting us on the rents they were charging, so we were just getting crushed from all sides. At first, we were just annoyed, but as the quarter went on, it seemed like more than just a coincidence. We had a couple of other competitors in the market, and they weren’t beating us out. It was always the same firm, which you wouldn’t really expect. It was like they had someone on the inside. We had a group chat with everyone except for Michelle, and all of us on it were pretty much baffled, since most of our staff wouldn’t know all of the things that it felt like the other firm knew. Apparently any time it came up at Mom and Dad’s, Shelly would get really weird about it and sort of bail out of the conversation and the room as fast as possible. Mom mentioned that it seemed like more than a coincidence, so I popped onto LinkedIn and looked Shelly up. Sure enough, Shelly was connected with someone who worked at the rival, who looked like she had been a college classmate. Maybe most interestingly, she’d also just been promoted up a couple of levels. I sent that to the group chat, and we all thought that seemed really suspicious. We didn’t confront her about it, but a few days later mom had a chance to look at Shelly’s phone when she left the house for a run, and as she scrolled through her texts she saw that she’d been in touch with the former classmate right around the time of our last board meeting, and that they’d planned to get dinner. That didn’t prove a thing, but they had only really texted superficially before that, so we were all pretty much sure at that point. We just needed to figure out how to prove it. Dad ended up coming up with a great plan. Mom and Dad “publicly” (on the whole family group chat) told the three of us that they suspected a leak. All of us said we knew nothing about it, but Shelly acted like she was offended that we would even suggest it. It was a pretty see-through case of she doth protest too much, but we kind of left it there, except that Mom and Dad told everyone that if it was any of us, there would be serious consequences. The other part of the plan was that Mom and Dad went out and poached Shelly’s friend from our rivals by giving her a huge signing bonus. It was actually a genius idea on his part, because he figured that either she was a wunderkid and we’d be really happy she was on our side of the competition, or she wasn’t quite that special but she had great instincts on how to use information to get ahead. Plus, of course, it meant that their source was gone. But naturally the first thing Mom and Dad did once they hired her was ask Britt if she had had any inside information. She said that she had heard some things from Shelly that she’d shared with her old bosses, and she actually apologized. That was totally unnecessary, and they told her that we’d want our employees to do the same, but they did ask her not to mention to Shelly that she’d joined our team. It turned out that that wasn’t a huge problem because she and Shelly really hadn’t been in touch all that regularly since they’d gone to dinner, but she agreed to let us know if she heard anything else from Shelly. We were all furious, but not really surprised. Since getting rid of her was basically impossible, we decided to give Shelly one more chance, since maybe her actions were really just sort of an immediate reaction to losing her job in the company, but I have to say that all of her complaints about how Mom and Dad had ruined her life were really hard to take over the next few weeks. When we had our next board meeting, it was unbelievably tense. The company’s performance in the previous quarter had us all a little edgy, but the tension was compounded now that the four of us knew what had actually happened the previous quarter. Still, we really needed to talk through a bunch of things so we were ultimately able to get through all of our business and set our targets for the next few months. And wouldn’t you know it, the next day Britt got a text from Shelly saying how fun dinner was and suggesting that they do it again. Britt told us immediately, and we asked her to go. It was possible that Shelly wasn’t going to blab again, especially since she’d seen the results from last quarter, but that didn’t seem likely. We knew that if she did, we’d have to act, since even if telling Britt was no longer really an issue, it was starting to look like Shelly was deliberately trying to hurt us and there was no telling who she might talk to next. So in the few days before the dinner, we had to come up with a plan for what we would do if Shelly was indeed betraying the family and the company. The obvious thing to do would have been to kick her out entirely, but the rules that my grandfather had set as a condition for passing on the company meant that we couldn’t really do that. So we had to find a way to kind of keep control of her while also sidelining her completely. Our group thread was kind of a mess, since we were simultaneously just pissed off and also trying to figure out what we could do to deal with Shelly. Mom always says ‘Stella came up with the solution,’ but really I was just complaining when I said that she always acted like such a baby when she didn’t get her way. I didn’t think much of it, but I guess that put the train in motion for Mom. Apparently over the next few days, while we were waiting to know for sure what would happen at the dinner, Mom started looking into how feasible it would be to just turn Shelly into a baby again. She says she didn’t tell us because she wasn’t sure if it was possible and she figured someone would eventually come up with something better, so in the meantime the rest of us were just flailing around from one terrible idea to another while she was cooking up the perfect way to make sure that we knew exactly where Shelly was and what she was doing at all times. So, they had dinner Thursday night, and Friday morning Britt came in to talk to mom and dad and confirmed what we’d all expected: Shelly had told her even more about our plans for the quarter than she had last time. And so that was kind of that. They thanked Britt, and then called Gina and I and told us the bad news. We all talked on the phone for like 20 minutes, since obviously we needed to do something about this now. Apparently Mom was still a little nervous about us thinking the idea would be crazy, so she let us brainstorm for a few more minutes. But I guess eventually she decided that we weren’t going to come up with anything better, so she told us about how my random comment had sent her down a rabbit hole that actually had a good chance of working if we were committed enough to it. We could get around the board meeting thing easily enough, since the rules only said that she had to be there, not that she had to vote or that she had to agree to anything. So we could just take her and then take her right back to her nursery. I actually burst out laughing! I hadn’t thought about what I’d said for a single second between when I said it and when Mom mentioned it again, but the idea of Shelly in baby clothes and playing with dolls in the corner at the board meeting was hilarious, and also pretty appealing. Mom isn’t really someone to joke around about things related to work, and you could tell she was serious, but I know I still had a million questions, and so did everyone else. The biggest, of course, was whether it was actually possible. She told Gina and I to come by their office at the end of the day and she’d show us all what she was thinking. So that’s when we knew that this wasn’t an idle suggestion. And sure enough, when we got there she had one of her trademark powerpoint presentations ready for us all. I’ve never found out if she already had that ready or if she spent her day that day putting it together instead of work. She started off by reiterating why it was a good idea, pointing out that she’d always be supervised, and wouldn’t have a cell phone to broadcast anything she might hear at a board meeting either. That part was easy enough to understand, but I think we all wanted to know more about the how, and that is where she went next. First she showed us a little taste of the surprisingly endless selection of diapers out there. Believe it or not, I hadn’t even thought about the diapers part yet, so if anything that made the whole thing even funnier. And even after seeing the amount of diapers out there, I was still shocked about the variety of clothing available too. She’d even thought about which furniture could be acquired and which needed to be custom. So, physically, it was possible. But of course, even then those weren’t the only questions she needed to address. The next place that she went was to childcare. She pointed out that she already was starting to work from home more, and that most of the time she’d easily be able to do that four days a week for now without it really changing what she did. And, she said, if that slightly decreased her productivity, it still beat what had happened last quarter. Eventually, she reasoned, we could find a babysitter we could trust for a day or two a week, but in the meantime if there was something that meant she had to be in the office, she could work out to have me or Gina come over to the house that day and work from there. The last thing was how the heck she was going to get Shelly to do all this. She’d thought that through too, but this was the part that seemed a little dicey to me, because she’d only get one chance and I couldn’t imagine Shelly would be cooperative. Her thought was that she’d confront Shelly that night, ground her to the house, and then take away her phone. She knew that would mean that she’d just spend the whole day upstairs in her room, and so she could use that to her advantage and have a contractor that she trusted from some of the renovations and repairs that we needed when we bought buildings come in to help convert dad’s office, which was (conveniently for babysitting purposes) next to hers on the first floor, into the nursery. She figured that she could be ready in about a week, and that she’d enlist either Gina or I to help get her dressed the first time. She had found some onesies that went straight into tight, fingerless mittens, and she figured that if she used those for the first little while then she’d be able to stop any serious fighting as soon as she got her dressed the first time. That seemed a little optimistic to me, but it was at least possible. So we decided that all four of us would go to Mom and Dad’s house that night and confront Shelly with the fact that we knew she was the leak, and that Britt was working for us now. That kind of made sure she knew we were all united, which hopefully would prevent any attempts to appeal to one of us for some sort of leniency. We figured that if she thought any of us might help her, she might be more resistant than if she realized how unified we were. She was stunned when we confronted her, and started fuming about how Britt set her up, before turning her ire to us for our role in it. We just weren’t having it, and eventually we just took her phone and told her she was grounded to the house. She started up with all this crap about how she had a right to her phone, and, ironically, about how she wasn’t some little kid who could be grounded, but she was getting used to us just kind of ignoring her complaints, and eventually she just kind of went up to her room to sulk, and apparently she basically just stayed up there for the next week or so watching TV. That was perfect, because starting that night Mom and Dad started ordering everything under the sun for the new life that she didn’t know was coming for her. The next day, they reached out to the contractor and got him to help us with some custom pieces needed to convert Gina’s old room into a nursery. Since most of his jobs were for the company anyways, they could have him prioritize the renovations without too much trouble. Once the room was ready, they had enough of the other stuff that they’d ordered to get started, even though there were still tons of diapers, clothes, accessories, and toys on the way. I was on a work trip for one of my other clients when the day came, so I couldn’t actually be there, but Mom, Dad, and Gina were able to work together to get her started. Apparently, three against one, it actually wasn’t all that hard to get her down to the nursery and dressed first thing in the morning. But the fits were endless, apparently, and based on the texts Gina was sending me it sounds like all hell would have broken loose if it wasn’t for those mittens. Within an hour, mom had had enough. All of Shelly’s complaining over the last few months was working against her now, because Mom just had no patience for it anymore. Mom declared that any time Shelly used any “big-girl words” (which just meant “words” in practice), she’d earn herself a one-way ticket to her crib for the night, no matter whether it was 10 minutes before bedtime or 10 in the morning. At first, I don’t know if Shelly really realized that just being left alone in the crib would be such a bad thing. Her answer to Mom’s new rule was to say “sounds good, goodnight.” Since it was only about lunchtime and she hadn’t eaten anything yet (they’d let her sleep in, and her arguing had put off any breakfast so far), Mom knew she needed to feed her first, so Baby Shelly got a stop-over in her new highchair, where Mom and Dad apparently had to work together for quite a while to get her to eat enough, since she kept refusing to open her mouth for the baby food or spitting it out when she did get some in there. Near the end, Gina sent me the most amazing Snapchat, which was the first time I saw the baby version of Shelly. All of her resistance just meant that she was absolutely covered in baby food, and with the bib, the onesie, the hairbows, and the tears on her face, she really just looked like a messy, fussy baby. Once they finally had her fed they cleaned her up and followed through by putting her to bed. I gather that there was a ton of squirming and muffled whines behind her strapped-in pacifier that could be seen and heard on the baby monitor, but nothing got her out for the next 19 hours. Of course, not long into that time she had her first wet diaper, and probably just as she was realizing that she wasn’t going to get any help with that, the fact that she has always been someone who poops two or three times a day caught up with her, and at about 5 o’clock seems to be when she had her first messy diaper. So, you know, after spending about 14 hours stuck like that, by the next morning I think Shelly realized why just saying “screw it” and talking so that she could go into her crib and not have to deal with Mom or Dad or her baby life wasn’t a winning long-term strategy. But, of course, her inability to keep her mouth shut when she should have had cost her her job and eventually her adulthood, and it didn’t prove much easier for her when what was on the line was a chance at a change or any freedom of movement for the rest of the day, so she wound up in bed before 3:00 most days in the first few weeks. After about three weeks, Mom slightly relaxed that by allowing her to talk to her dollies as long as she wasn’t transparently pretending to talk to them but really trying to say something to whoever was watching her (now that she has some other big baby friends, she can talk to them, too), and that actually did seem to help her quite a bit! I guess she just needed to be able to gossip and complain to someone or something. And even if they didn’t respond back, that was enough for her to be able to behave a little. So, besides for the Snapchat from Gina and a couple of pictures from Mom, the first time I got to meet my new baby sister was that Saturday. Except that it turned out to be a short visit, because as soon as I walked in at about 10:30, she groaned out “oh, no, please get out of here!” and so the whole visit just consisted of loading her up in the high chair, feeding her, and then tucking her in. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find it kind of enjoyable after the months of crap that she’d put us through. I went over a couple more times during those few weeks where the no talking rule was being most strictly applied, but each time she was already in her crib by the time I got there in the afternoon, so I really only saw her over the baby monitor, which barely counted. Except for the fact that she didn’t know when I was coming, I’d have said she was avoiding me! Eventually, there were a couple of times where Mom and Dad just wanted to go out to eat, so I got to take her for the last part of the night. That was pretty fun, since I was able to feed her solo for the first few times, and then change her and put her to bed. But I still hadn’t seen any poopy diapers. But then came that third time I babysat her. What do you remember about the first time Baby Shelly messed? This time, it was going to be a much more extended engagement. Mom and Dad were looking to get away for a long weekend, and so Gina and I were going to be watching her for far longer than I had before. They left Friday morning, and it was shaping up to be a lighter day for me than for Gina, so I was happy enough to be the one working from Mom and Dad’s and watching Shelly from home that day, and Gina would come over the next morning to join me. To be honest, I was really looking forward to the extended time in charge. For whatever reason, I still wasn’t over all of Shelly’s moaning and complaining over the last few months, and when you combined it with her undermining the company, I was really looking forward to the chance to really baby her and tease her as a bit of revenge for all of the crap she’d put us all through. When I got there, Mom had already fed her breakfast, and she was dressed in a romper dress with some tights underneath, playing in her play area when I took over. Since her behavior had been decent except for the continued problems with talking, Mom and Dad had started to allow her out of the mittens during the daytime, so she could more easily hold onto her dolls and toys. My arrival briefly stopped whatever conversation she’d been having with her dolls, since I guess she was embarrassed for me to see her talking with her toys. For a while, she tried to find something interesting to do with some soft blocks, but that didn’t really keep her too entertained. She also banged a little on her xylophone, but that only had five keys that made less than pleasant noises, so she stopped pretty soon after she started. Eventually, she took a few dolls over to her doll house, where at first she at first played silently, but slowly started talking to them more and more audibly, even if the words were a little bit hard to hear behind her pacifier. Honestly, it was so funny (and kind of cute!) to see her playing so much with her dolls that I was barely getting any of my work done and mostly just sending Gina snaps of the action, so eventually I decided that I’d rather just pay attention to her for a little while and got up to get her a bottle. When I came back, I interrupted her and opened up one of the gates on the sectional plastic dividers that, combined with the wall, marked out the area where she was to remain while she was playing. Opening the gate was really quite unnecessary since she could easily climb over them, but it helped reinforce that she needed one of the grown-ups to let her out. She came over to me, and I brought her back to the chair I was working at, where I had her sit on my knee, enjoying how obviously you could feel the thick padding of her diaper through her clothes. Her head was actually a little higher than mine now that she had the extra few inches above the chair, but I pulled it in onto my shoulder, with my left hand behind her back to brace her in that position, and then gave her the bottle. She was used to this by now, and she didn’t put up any fight before she started to drink it. For me, though, this was still quite novel, especially since most of my limited number of times feeding her so far had been while she was in trouble and I was getting her ready for bed, so they’d just been in the highchair. When she finished, I took the opportunity to take a finger and slip it inside the leg cuff of her diaper to check her. She was still dry, though. Mom said that she’d slowly been starting to move away from just having a few giant wetting incidents a day to a somewhat more frequent number of wettings throughout the day, but, at least in my presence, she still seemed reluctant to let go when she didn’t absolutely need to. I goaded her a little by praising her for still being dry and telling her how Mommy said she’d been wet and poopy a lot lately and then by calling her a cute little baby and all sorts of other things, mixed in with tons of patronizing kisses and coos. She couldn’t respond, and to her credit, she didn’t, despite plenty of squirming and an absolutely furious blush. Eventually, I decided that I had to get back to work and released her to return to her dolls, which honestly she seemed only too happy to do. I was surprised, then, when just 15 minutes later she calmly turned away from her dolls and just said, “OK, I guess I’ve had enough. Might as well get me ready for bed.” Of course, I knew something must be up at that point. She knew exactly what she was doing, and had, without any fuss or buildup at all, decided that she just wanted out of the current situation, even if it meant spending the rest of the day trapped in the crib. I kind of wanted to find out what the heck was driving that decision, but the rules were very clear that now I needed to get her ready for bed, even if she was obviously manipulating those rules. “Well,” I said, probably sounding genuinely disappointed, “I guess I don’t need to tell you what happens to naughty girls who try to talk like grownups. Let’s get you some lunch, and then it’ll be bedtime for you.” I helped her back up and out of the play area, then guided her out to the kitchen and got her situated in the highchair. I wasn’t really ready to give her lunch just yet, and now I also had to make sure I gave her enough to account for the dinner she wouldn’t be getting. That seemed like it might take a little while, so I decided that I’d heat up a bottle for her first, and then I brought it over to her and instructed her to drink that while I scoured the cabinets for what to feed her. I decided that, if she was going to rob me of a full day of fun with her, then I’d make a little fun of my own here, so what I did was that I grabbed like 8 jars, with an emphasis on the ones that seemed particularly unpleasant. I lined them all up and took another snap for Gina, then put them all in a single bowl, and sent a picture of that to Gina too. After that, I went over to the microwave to heat it up, then checked on Shelly, who seemed to be really speeding through that bottle, but wasn’t quite there yet, so I went back over to the counter, where I saw Gina had responded to my Snapchats. “Did she just suddenly say she wanted to go to bed?” she’d texted. “Yeah,” I wrote back. And then, “Do you know what’s up with that?” The microwave beeped, so I went over and opened it up, mixed everything around, and then put it back in for another 30 seconds. It smelled nasty, and looked even worse. My phone lit up again. “No,” Gina said. “But she did it when I babysat when Mom needed to go into the office a couple weeks ago.” “Weird,” I answered, even as the little bitmoji told me that she was typing another message. The microwave went off, but I waited for Gina’s response to come through. “Try slowing her down a little. She’s gotta have a reason, and we should figure it out.” “Good call! I’ll let you know!” I said, then I went back to the fridge and grabbed another bottle. I took the fiercely steaming baby food out of the microwave and quickly popped in the bottle. When it was warm I brought both over to the highchair, where Shelly had finished the original bottle. “Alright,” I said to her. “Your food is a little too hot, so I brought you another bottle to have first!” I placed it in her mouth, and this time I held it in there for her, chuckling internally to myself as I realized how unnecessary it had been to give her any explanation for the extra bottle when “because I said so” had been a perfectly viable option and we both knew it. In my efforts to slow her down, I tried keeping the bottle only slightly tilted up so that the liquid wouldn’t come out as fast as when she’d been holding the first for herself with her head tilted basically as far back as it would go. That might have added a tiny bit of time, but it didn’t seem like it was enough to make a difference. So, I started wracking my brain for ways to slow the process down as we went through it. As it turns out, though, I’d already stumbled on the perfect solution in the gross goop I was about to feed her. Shelly was already giving it a wary look as I gave the mixture one last stir, but she opened up dutifully for the first bite when I brought it up to her. She’d been eating baby food full time now for several weeks, so she knew the drill. But when it hit her taste buds, any plans she had of a quick and painless lunch before getting into the crib and thus away from me went out the window. “Ugh,” was all she said, or moaned, really, but in doing so most of the bite I’d shoveled into her mouth dribbled back out and onto her face. I’m not quite sure whether she exactly meant to spit it out or not, but it was clear that the reaction was genuine. Each of the jars seemed nasty enough, but altogether they seemed positively horrendous - definitely nothing I’d ever eat! Still, that wasn’t going to be getting her off the hook today! “Oh, do you not like your yummy food, Baby Shelly?” I taunted as I scooped some of it off of her chin with the spoon and held it against her closed lips. “Well, you’re going to have to eat it all if you want to grow up big and strong. And if you don’t want to grow up big and strong, that’s fine, but you still are going to eat it all before you get out of that highchair and I get you ready for bed. I’ve got all day, it’s really your choice!” She didn’t actually say anything back, but she gave me the most incredible look - something between disgust, panic, hatred, and begrudging respect. She would have known that I knew something was up when she suddenly went straight to not only breaking the rules but saying to go ahead with the consequences, and now she could see that I was going to make her earn her way there. It was kind of like only then did she realize that I was also playing cat and mouse, not just her. I just kind of locked eyes with her for a couple of seconds and watched her steel herself, and then she opened her mouth back up, which was my signal to put the rest of the slop that I’d gathered from her face back in there. She seemed to try to swallow it directly off the spoon, but her face said it was only marginally better. I kept the bites coming at a leisurely pace now, really letting her savor her combination lunch/dinner, and enjoyed how some bites somehow seemed to be even more spectacularly bad than others based on whichever flavors had met right there on that spoonful. She made progress as best as she could, but even at my slow speed of attack, I often needed to wait with the spoon for a good five or ten seconds before she could muster up the courage to open up for the next bite. Finally, after maybe twenty minutes, she was done, and she was a complete mess. Despite her relative cooperation, she’d dribbled enough that her lips, chin, and bib were all much messier than I’d seen her since the picture I’d gotten from her very first feeding. “Good girl!” I mockingly praised as she finished. “I bet you’d like a bottle to help wash that down!” Shelly couldn’t help but nod at that, even though she must have known that would add another couple of minutes before she’d get to bed and get me out of her hair. And so I went over to the fridge and grabbed another one, heating it again in the microwave. I grabbed my phone again, and saw that I had another chat in the thread with Gina. “How’s it going?” That gave me an idea, and instead of responding right away, I grabbed the bottle when the microwave beeped and brought it over to Shelly’s highchair. “Now, Baby Shelly, your other big sis Gina wanted to know what you’re up too, so we’re gonna send her a quick little video. And when I tell you, you’re gonna wave hi to her, ok?” She gave me a look of displeasure, and lightly shook her head back and forth. “Oh, you don’t want to?” I asked. “Well, you aren’t getting this bottle or getting out of that highchair until you do, so I’d suggest you cooperate or you can stay there all day!” I didn’t really see her reaction to that because I was already moving behind her and leaving an arm over her shoulder to get into selfie position, but I could see her shoulders drop even a little further, so I had a pretty good sense that she knew she was had. I pressed the little camera button on the Snapchat thread with Gina, ensuring that our reply would be a visual one, made sure that we were both in the shot then held down the camera button to start recording. “Can you wave hi to your big sister Gina, Baby Shelly?” I asked in the most ridiculous coo I could imagine. She lifted her left arm, which was further away from me, and gave a barely perceptible wave. “Oh, I know you can do better than, Baby Shelly! Give Gina a nice big wave!” I took my left arm off of her shoulder and demonstrated for her, as if the problem was that Shelly just didn’t know. Without another option, Shelly did as she was told, giving a still-pretty-weak but somehow kind of perfectly defeated wave. “Good girl!” I praised, then planted a kiss on her forehead and let go of the record button to end the video. “Let’s see how it looks,” I continued excitedly as the playback automatically started, holding my phone so that both Shelly and I could see it. She seemed like she’d rather have the floor eat her up than have to see the replay of her dirty little self waving next to my nicely put-together reflection, but that’s what she had to do. “So cute!” I said, and I gave her another kiss. I pulled the phone back, quickly typed in “not bad (for me)!” and also added a sound on prompt, then pressed send on the missive to Gina before I rounded the tray and placed the nipple between Shelly’s eager lips. She immediately started to suck that thing down with a gusto that was probably even more tied to wanting to wash away the taste than it was to her desire to get into that crib. My guess is that Shelly finished that bottle in less than 5 minutes, and she had me a little nervous that things were going too quickly to really get to the bottom of what was going on. It had been about 40 minutes since she’d initiated the sequence to get into bed, and I estimated that I could stall us at least 10 or 15 more, but I still felt like I might want to buy some more time. So, I walked away and warmed up one more bottle to bring to her nursery with us, then I cleaned up her face and got her down. “Come sit in my lap, baby,” I said as I took a seat on the cavernous pleather loveseat that was in her nursery exclusively so that Baby Shelly could be given bottles before or after naps and bedtime. “I’ve got one more bottle for you since it will be such a long night and we don’t want you to get too thirsty!” Shelly scowled just a little, but carefully positioned her head in my lap so that the feeding could commence. Once again, she put on turbo mode and drained it in short order, but I had another wrinkle up my sleeve, and this time I guided her into a seated position on my lap so that I could burp her. She didn’t need the help, since she’d burped on her own after each of the four that I’d already given her, and she noticeably sighed at the added step, even if it only added maybe a minute or two before she’d burped a few times and seemed to be running out of steam on that front. Just before I let her up, I checked her diaper, which she’d managed to wet without me realizing, which I was a little surprised by. It would have held a lot more, but I figured that with the amount I’d given her to drink and the amount of time she’d be in the crib, I might as well change her while I was changing her into her pajamas. So, we both got up and I took her over to the changing table, but before I helped her up onto it, I had her raise her arms and then worked the snaps free and took off her dress, leaving her naked except for her tights and her diaper. From there I helped her onto the table and had her lay back. As soon as she did, I realized that it might have made more sense to lower her tights at least below her diaper before I’d gotten her up there, since now they were harder to take off since she was laying on them. I grabbed her two legs and boosted them way up in the air so that her lower back was off the table, and then sort of rested her feet on my shoulders so that I could lean in and work the tights down. As I did so, she took a sharp intake of breath, but I thought that maybe my hands were just kind of cold or tickled or something and didn’t think much of it at the time. Pretty soon I had the tights down to just above her knees and I backed up to a more normal standing position at the foot of the table and started to work down each leg individually. As her legs continued to bend at my prodding, she was chewing her lower lip pretty hard, but still I really wasn’t paying any attention to it. Finally, I had her down to just her diaper, and now I opened it up, making all sorts of comments about how wet she was as I cleaned her up and manipulated her legs to wipe and then powder up every little corner. She was squirming now, and her face was really tense, but I was quite sure that was just the embarrassment of having me change her, which was still pretty novel, and she did seem to slightly relax when I finished taping her up and let her legs dangle over the edge of the table while I grabbed something for her to wear for the night from her dresser. There wasn’t a whole lot of options for pajamas, since we were still having her sleep in the onesies with the fingerless gloves to keep her out of any trouble while she was in her crib, so I somewhat indiscriminately grabbed a lavender number from the top of the pile in her drawer. I sat her up on the table, put her head through the head hole, and then worked each of her arms through the sleeves. Once her hands were inside the mittens, their rigid thickness meant that she couldn’t grab at the snug spandex around her wrists, and so she was unable to work the garment off herself until someone helped her by holding onto the mitten while she pulled her hand back, which was kind of brilliant in its simple effectiveness. With her hands all set, I pulled the onesie down her body until it hung around the top of her diaper. At this point in putting a onesie on an adult baby, we’re all faced with a difficult choice. If you have them stand up you get a lot more stretch to bring the two tails together, but then you can’t see the snaps very well to properly line them up. And, if you leave them on the changing table, then you have trouble getting the two tails together without needing to have them boost their back up off the table. But once that is done you can easily do up the snaps. I find I switch back and forth all the time because there isn’t really a better or worse way to do it. For whatever reason, this time I chose the table route, so I nudged her back down onto her back, then gathered up her legs to push her back up off the table so I could grab the tail. As I pushed her legs up, they naturally bent at the knees. This time, in addition to the sharp intake of breath that she’d taken when I was removing her tights, she also let out a small but unmistakable whimper. I couldn't figure out what was happening right away, so I paused, still holding her legs up in the air. Shelly had pulled her mittened hands up to her face and turned away. Then, with a little back pressure from her feet on my hands, I realized that she was pushing. An airy little hiss of gas came just a second later and confirmed what I thought I was seeing and feeling. She was pooping her pants! Apparently the way I was holding her legs was just right, and by forcing her into a squat with her cheeks parted in a way she couldn’t counteract with a clench was enough for the pressure she was feeling to overwhelm her control. I just kept holding her legs up. I was kind of in some sort of awe. We’d all known that she’d always been someone who pooped a lot when we were on family trips or whatever, and Mom had said that even with diapers involved she’d had at least two messes every day that she hadn’t been sent to be early, so it wasn’t like I didn’t understand it would happen eventually. But it was still something else to actually see her do it. The satisfaction that I felt as she pathetically continued to hide her face while she kept pushing for another 30 seconds or so was amazing. I know it wasn’t the first time she’d done it but for me it kind of felt like the first time I’d gotten any sort of reward for all of the crap that she’d put us through for the last year or so. How did she react? Well, I kind of came to my senses when I felt her stop pushing, even though she remained quite tense. I put her legs back down. She seemed to try to see if she could get her feet to catch the bottom of the table so that she could keep the weight off of her diaper as much as possible, but since I’d positioned her so that about half of her thighs were hanging off the table, that wasn’t really possible and they wound up dangling off the edge while her upper legs were flat. Now, though, she’d tipped me off that she was trying to avoid putting pressure on her diaper, so I moved around the side of the table and used a hand under her neck to force her to sit up, causing her to make a face of complete disgust as her weight squished the poop further into her backside. Now, I took advantage of the fact that the shirttail of the onesie was still up above her diaper, and I pulled back the rear panel for a quick peek. The poop wasn’t that huge, but the way the chestnut-colored lump of sludge was filling her crack looked like it was totally gross! “Uh-oh,” I said, letting go of the diaper again and turning my face towards Shelly’s, which was just inches away. She was teetering on the edge of tears, and so red that it seemed vaguely dangerous. “Did you do poopies, Baby Shelly?” She turned away from me as much as she could, but she didn’t really have anywhere to hide. “I think you did!” I continued. “And I think that I know why you were trying to get put to bed. Did you not want your big sis to see you make a stinky diaper, Baby?” She shot me a little look at that point that I think was half loathing and half confusion. Later, I realized that it should have been obvious to me and Gina that that was why she wanted to be put to bed, so that she could avoid us seeing her do it (or changing her), and that she must have thought that I knew. And that made me realize that, if I had known but wanted to see her do it while still technically enforcing the rule, you would have basically done exactly what I did. Find all sorts of reasons to slow things down by messing with my phone? Check. Give her a large amount of gross baby food to make her meal longer and add to the pressure on her tummy? Check. Inject copious amounts of dairy into an already ticking time-bomb? Check. Manipulate her legs at every turn while dressing her to maximize the physical difficulty of holding it? Check. So, I think that Shelly assumed that I was onto her and that I was trying to make her poop, but then what I said planted some doubt. I bet she still kind of thinks I knew what I was doing, but I swear that neither Gina or I connected the dots! But, at the time I didn’t fully understand her expression, and I didn’t really care. Instead, I just pushed her back down onto her back. “Lift up,” I said, and she complied. I grabbed the back of her onesie, and paired it with the front before snapping it shut with four heavy pats on the buttons. “I know you wanted to get to bed as soon as possible,” I said, not really cooing so much as being deliberately snarky now. “So, you can sleep like that and me and Gina will change you in the morning!” I don’t know if she was expecting me to change her then, but she would have been fully prepared to sleep in a dirty diaper all night, so I am almost sure that her look of shock was more about the fact that me and Gina would be changing her. “Oh, did Mommy not tell you that she and Daddy are going away this weekend? Me and Gina will be here to play with you all day tomorrow and Sunday! Won’t that be fun?” Her face said that no, it wouldn’t be, and she seemed totally repulsed by the idea that we’d be changing her. Personally, I couldn’t imagine that we could make it bad enough that it would have been worth sleeping a whole night in a poopy diaper, but I resolved to see if we could live up to her expectations. “Alright, let’s get into beddy-byes, Baby Shelly!” I said, and I helped her sit up a final time before I guided her off the edge and onto the floor. It wasn’t that hard for her to get up into the crib or anything, but I made sure to help her up with a nice firm boost to the seat of her pants. I tucked her in, then I pulled up the side railing, and I waltzed out of the room, practically walking on air as I shut off the light and closed the door behind me. I pulled out my phone again, and I saw that Gina had responded. “She looks so funny! Good job!” she’d said. “I figured it out,” I typed back. “She had to poop.” “But it worked,” I continued in a new message. “She couldn’t wait and I saw her do it. So gross. So right. I let her sleep in it so that we could change her together tomorrow.” After a while, my phone lit up with a chat back from Gina. “OMG!!! That little stinker!” What was the change like? Well, I promised Gina (and Shelly) that I’d wait for her to get there before we changed Shelly, and I was happy to stick to that. I woke up around 8 and had a nice little breakfast and a cup of coffee, and by then Gina had texted me to say she’d be over in 20 minutes. I putzed around on my phone for a little while, and then made sure that I had a bottle warm and some breakfast ready for Shelly for after her change, since I assumed she’d be hungry and thirsty since she’d now been in the crib for, like, three quarters of a day. When Gina came, we basically went right in. I don’t know exactly when or how much Shelly had slept, but she was certainly awake when we entered. “Oh my God,” Gina said to me, “It smells so bad!” She was right. The stink hadn’t really taken over before I’d left yesterday, but by now it was absolutely dominating the room with its pungence. “Oh, yes,” I said, almost as much to Shelly as to Gina, “Baby Shelly is a super stinky girl.” “Does Baby Shelly want a diapee change?” Gina asked her as I lowered the side of the crib. Shelly’s eyes glistened with tears, but she did nod her head. I’m sure it wasn’t even so much a case of want as need, since the one thing that was for sure was that she would have preferred that it came from anyone other than us. Before she could sit up in her crib, I reached between her legs and unfastened the snaps on her onesie so that we didn’t have to deal with that later. “OK, stand up, sweetie” I said, and she swung her legs around and got up, only making a slight face as her weight quickly settled on her butt. “Oh, I bet that felt all yucky, didn’t it?” Gina asked when she saw the expression. Shelly just looked down at the floor. “Help me get this onesie off?” I said to Gina, and we each grabbed a hand and worked it out of the mitten, eventually getting our respective arms all the way out of the sleeves and then we pulled the whole thing over her head, leaving her in just her obviously sagging diaper. “Let’s see!” I continued, tossing the onesie onto the crib mattress for now and pulling back the back panel for a rather needless inspection. “Oh wow, Baby Shelly! That’s a lot more poopy than there was yesterday!” I mocked, though it was entirely true. It’s possible that she hadn’t really finished the first wave when I left her, but even still there had to have been another mess later in the day, because the volume of poop in there had more than doubled. She didn’t say anything, of course, but I wasn’t expecting that, and instead we just guided her up onto the table, with Gina giving her a gratuitous pat on the mushy seat just before she turned around to transition from the step stool to the seated position that she’d need to briefly assume on her way down to her back. Finally, she was prone on the table, resigned to the fact that her big sisters would be changing her dirty diaper. I let Gina do the actual honors, since I’d gotten to witness the actual messing, and I went up to the other end of the table and gave Shelly the bottle that I’d brought in with us. It did seem to slightly calm her down, if only maybe because it gave her something to focus on other than the fact that we were seeing her filthy bum. “Oh my god, eww! I can’t believe you slept in this!” Gina said as she opened up the diaper. Shelly writhed a little at the comment, but she couldn’t possibly blush any further, so most of her reaction was probably left within the confines of her own head. “Can you hold these, actually?” Gina asked, pushing her feet up to where I could wrap my free forearm around them, effectively holding the lower half of Shelly’s back and all of her butt up and off the table. Even from my limited perspective where I could only see the very bottom of her cheeks and her inner thighs, I could see that poop was thickly smeared just about every place imaginable, and I was sure glad to be part of the changing party instead of the one on the table! Shelly wriggled a little as Gina cut through the filth with the baby wipes, but that might have been because the wipes were cold as much as anything. Eventually, Gina was satisfied enough that she rolled up the nasty diaper and wipes into a tight ball, taped it back up, and deposited it in the pail. She fetched a new diaper, unfolded it under Shelly, and took the fact that I was still holding Shelly’s legs up off the table as an invitation to powder her quite thoroughly. Satisfied, she took an ankle in each hand, nodded so that I knew to let go, and eased Shelly down. She brought the front panel back up, and in no time, baby sis was all taped up and ready to be dressed for the new day of fun ahead of us (at least for Gina and I). Does anything else stand out? Well, as we were getting her dressed for the day, Gina and I clued Shelly into a conversation we’d had on the group thread with Mom and Dad the day before. We’d told them about the little stunt that Shelly had pulled by manipulating the talking rule in an attempt to avoid messing in front of me, and we all agreed that if she was going to be using the rule to her advantage, then we needed to change it. Plus, keeping her in the crib for 20 hours at a time long-term didn’t seem that smart - she needed to eat and drink more than that if nothing else. So, we decided that, instead, if Shelly talked to a grown-up, her punishment would be that she’d get no more diaper changes until bedtime. So, if she still didn’t want to get changed by us, she might be able to avoid that on some days we were babysitting, but there were lots of activities we could force her to do that might make her reconsider that choice for next time. It was up to her! Shelly didn’t seem too enthusiastic about that, but also didn’t seem totally crestfallen. I kind of think that she’d already lost by having to mess herself in front of me yesterday and not being able to avoid us changing her anyways, so in some ways she may have already moved on from that tactic. The rest of the weekend was a lot of fun for me and Gina. We kept Baby Shelly more than busy with as many activities as we could think of that seemed fun for us. We don’t get to watch her two-on-one that often, but when we do, we always have a blast! And we had five more poopy diapers to change that weekend, so we each got plenty of chances to remind Shelly of exactly how much she’ll always be the baby sister in this family! I always say that we have to thank Grandpa for being a genius. In any other family business situation, we would have just kicked Shelly out and that would have been that. But because of this rule, the family really did stick together, and now our relationship with Shelly is so much better than I ever could have imagined! 5 Link to comment
Shotgun Diplomat Posted December 30, 2022 Share Posted December 30, 2022 I can't quiet figure out which of the seven Shelly is. I am leaning towards sloth, just because she didn't do anything with her given chances, but the same can be said for almost all of the women in your 'verse. Link to comment
GFOP Posted December 30, 2022 Author Share Posted December 30, 2022 Yeah, I originally wrote her as wrath, but I really didn't like the way it turned out, and by the time I did the re-write I'd basically abandoned the concept, so I wouldn't really say it's all the way there anymore. Maybe a better fit for betrayal in the circles of hell if I had been smart enough to make that connection. Link to comment
Shotgun Diplomat Posted December 30, 2022 Share Posted December 30, 2022 Yah, that is fair. In the case of Shelly who has betrayed whom? I feel that both parties are equally at fault in a way. Link to comment
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