Mami's Boy (Complete)

[Personalias]

Note: All character's in this story are HIGHLY fictionalized versions of real people.

The Hook….

Professional wrestling is fake. Every time the camera is rolling, every time someone who isn’t a wrestler is watching you; it’s a work. No one is actually trying to injure one another, at least they shouldn’t be.  The shiny gold belts are nothing more than props to dazzle fans and to create drama and tell stories.  The toy replicas sold in Walmart would be just as valuable if the right worker sold it like it was.  Likewise, most wrestlers practically live out of their cars, bars, and cheap hotel rooms.  Even at the top levels, wrestlers have more in common with the carnival folk that started the business than the stylin’, profilin’, limousine riding, jet flying, kiss-stealing, wheelin’ and dealin’ sons of guns they purport to be.  It’s all an illusion.

Professional wrestling is also the realest thing ever. Workers might not be trying to hurt each other, but everyone is still in competition with one another. Everyone wants to get the top spot on the card, to steal the show, to draw the most money, to sell the most merchandise. It’s still an athletic competition; it’s just a performance based competition like gymnastics or figure skating; and the only judges that matter are the people who pay to see you and the person who signs your checks.

It also never really ends. It doesn’t matter that everyone older than seven knows it’s a performance, the performance never stops. Chris Hemsworth can put down the plastic hammer and he’ll stop being Thor.  On some level, a wrestler is always expected to be their character. Heels tend to hang out with other heels. Faces with faces. The old code of kayfabe still runs deep.

It was part of the reason why Rhea Ripley thought of herself as her ring name just as much if not more often as her birth name. When co-workers, bookers, and fans across the board tended to call you by your gimmick name, hearing your real name from just about anyone outside of family left a bad taste in your ear.  That’s why even in her head, she was Rhea.

The other reason was the simple truth that while wrestlers could be great actors, they didn’t tend to be particularly good character actors. Every successful wrestling gimmick, so it was said, was just taking a part of one’s personality, turning it up to eleven and then cramming it into the preferred mold; whatever got the strongest reaction from the crowd.

That meant that Miz was kind of a button pushing cocky douche, Ronda Rhousey was kind of a competitive try hard, and Sami Zayne was definitely a wholesome goober. Even the legendary over-the-top gimmicks of yesteryear had this.  Undertaker was closer to his biker persona, but even the Dead Man gimmick channeled his natural stoicism and old school traditionalism. Hogan was a bastard and a shameless self-promoter, but what was Hulkamania other than a positive spin on one man being the president of his own fan club?

Similarly, when she was Rhea Ripley, she had the ability to be a massive wanker when needed. When she went out to the ring she just flipped on a switch inside and went from her naturally laid back and personable self to become incredibly intense, brutal, and uncompromising in everything she did.  

Presently, Rhea was riding around in a rental car just outside of Seattle. They had a house show that night, and a quirk in the scheduling had given them almost a whole day to settle in ahead of time.  It was nice, just cruising around and killing time for once.  

Nothing big, she had neither the time nor inclination to play tourist, but it was fun to just decompress and people watch.

PING!

Rhea picked her phone up from her lap and sighed.

“Who is it?” Alexa asked from the driver’s seat. “Buddy?” she asked hopefully. Despite currently working for different promotions, Rhea’s boyfriend regularly texted and called her.

“No,” Rhea sighed. “It’s Dom.”  

From her spot in the back of the rental car, Bayley rolled her eyes.  “Seriously? I thought he’d get the hint when you weren’t traveling with the rest of Judgement Day.”

Rhea shook her head and groaned. “Guess not.”

On the subject of gimmicks as a reflection of one’s personality, Dominik Mysterio had found his true calling as a spoiled brat.  The guy had grown up in the business and his dad was one of the most famous luchadores of all time.  When it became clear that he would never be a carbon copy of his famous father, Dom leaned into his privilege and relative inexperience, turning heel and making people successfully hate him instead of struggling to earn their love.

Rhea and Dom had a natural kind of chemistry together, with her playing the part of the domineering temptress and him as her submissive pet project and protege. She trained him to be a better wrestler with him feeding off of the supposed resentment his character had for his father.

It was a good angle.  Made her look good on multiple levels, both as a wrestler and a character. Gave Dom a bit more room to work and develop his craft and character; better the prodigal son lead astray than Daddy’s perpetual sidekick. Win-win.  Oh boy did they get heat.  It was glorious.

Like all the best things in wrestling, there were elements of truth mixed in.  Ripley really was working out with the young Mysterio and training with him. Their relative sizes and body types were a closer match than the father and son were, so it made sense for Dom to modify his style so that he was less acrobatic and more of a technical brawler.  Dom also very clearly looked up to Rhea, almost like a kid brother wanting to play with his big sister.

Rhea read the message on her phone.

“Just checked into the hotel, Mami. Want me to find a gym? I’ll save you a machine.”

Lately the act had become too real. He’d started calling her “Mami” more and more when the cameras were off.  Had gotten too flirty.  Too familiar. The ‘little brother/big sister’ analogy was becoming less and less accurate behind the scenes. Week after week, it looked like Dominik was toeing the line between art and real life.

“I think it’s kind of cute,” Alexa said. “He’s kind of like a puppy dog.”

“You try having him constantly humping your leg, then.” Rhea joked.

“Point taken.”

Bayley tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Is there a way to get him to take the hint?  Court?”  Bayley, of course, wasn’t referring to actual legal intervention, but “wrestler’s court”, the informal system of locker room justice where the eldest and most respected amongst the workers settled squabbles by hearing complaints and then deciding which one had to buy the other booze and pizza to atone for their transgressions.

Rhea ignored Dominik’s next three texts and turned her phone off.  “Naw,” she said. “It’s an old boy’s club.”  

“Yeah…” her riding companions sadly agreed. The business had come far for women in recent years.  Just not that far.

“Heh,” Alexa said. “What about the other way?  What about a rib?”

Wrestling had a long and storied history of what amounted to frathouse level hazing, bullying and pranks. It had gotten toned down over the years, but the practice had hardly gone into the dodo.  You didn’t have an industry filled with performers that were the exact intersection of jock and theater kid and not have drama and pranks…some more legal than others.  You just didn’t.

“I don’t think he deserves it that badly,” Rhea mused. There was an implied “yet” at the end of her sentence.

PING!

Bayley looked at her phone and giggled in the back seat. “You sure about that?”  She showed Rhea her phone.  “Look who just texted me.”

Rhea read the text out loud and grimaced.  “Hey B. Have you seen my Mami? Tell her her Dom Dom misses her.”

“How did he even get your number?” Alexa wondered, still driving around aimlessly.

“I didn’t give it to him,” Bayley frowned.

“He’s Rey’s kid,” Rhea sighed tiredly. “He probably just asked someone who asked someone who asked someone. He’s been around this business since he was literally in nappies and his Dad is a Hall of Famer. Who’s gonna tell him no?”

“Yeah,” Alexa teased, “But now he wants his Mami to change him!”

PING!

The blonde haired ‘Miss Bliss’ stopped the car in the middle of the road to check her phone. To be fair, it wasn’t really a road as much as it was a quiet alleyway. “Goddamn it, Dom!”  That got a laugh out of the other two.

Fate and inspiration have a funny way of playing off each other.  Legend has it that Jake the Snake Roberts invented the DDT by grabbing his opponent in a front headlock and tripped over the other man’s feet.  One night Steve Austin’s wife had told him to come get his dinner before it turned “Stone Cold”. What happened here wasn’t nearly as momentous, but just as serendipitous.  

Right as the car was pulling out of the empty alleyway and into a parking lot, Rhea saw a couple of young men walking out of a store. From their belly buttons up to their chins, they hefted heavy cardboard boxes out and towards their parked hatchbacks.  One of them turned his head and regarded the slowly passing vehicle.

The ladies got a look. Then another. Then a third.  Eyes became squinted in consternation, then a jaw went slack.  All three women knew that look. “I think we’ve got a fan,” Bayley said.  They’d been recognized.

The shock and awe on the fan’s face explained why he didn’t set the cardboard boxes down in the trunk of his car properly. The poor guy also didn’t pack his boxes very carefully. The packages weebled and wobbled until gravity took over and sent them to the pavement, their contents spilling out.

“Are those diapers?!” Alexa asked.  

Indeed they looked like it, though not any diapers the trio were used to seeing .The packaging was clear plastic, with a single colorful slip of paper that did nothing to cover the crinkly cartoon covered rectangles inside. They certainly looked like diapers. So too did the thin white slip poking out the back of the now extremely embarrassed man’s shorts as well as his companion’s while they scrambled to pick up the spilled contents.  The only major difference Rhea could detect was that the packages didn’t say ‘Huggies’ or ‘Pampers’ on them.

“Go-go-go-go-go-go!”  Rhea shouted.  Alexa tore off, with all three women cackling and cringing from second hand embarrassment.  Rhea caught a glimpse at packages. Eagle eyed, she took note.

“Wow!” Bayley laughed. “That’s a story for later!”

“Oh-no-no-no-no,” Alexa shook her head laughing. She drove around the block slowly.  “It’s not over yet.”

Rhea cocked an eyebrow.  “Meaning?”

“Did you see those boxes they were carrying?!” Alexa crowed. “We’ve gotta see where they got that stuff!”

It then occurred to Rhea why her companion had stopped peeling out. “Awwww,” she cooed. “You’re giving those boys time to get away, aren’t you?”

“Yup,” Alexa giggled. “So that we can go back in and gawk.”

“Gawk?” Bayley said. “Gawk at what? A medical supply store?”

Call it a premonition, or perhaps the Australian was just slightly more cynical than her peers, but Rhea had the sneaking suspicion that those diapers weren’t strictly for medical use.  Medical briefs didn’t have blue huskies on the front or alphabet blocks on the crotch.  “We’ll see…”

A full five minutes later, the trio of superstars were parked, out of the car and waltzing through a tinted glass door in what was supposedly a boring and nondescript office space.  The door opened, a bell rang, and the ladies' senses were delighted at the lighthearted absurdity in front of their eyes.

Racks of giant onesies hung from the wall. They weren’t feetie pajamas like what came in and out of style around winter time. They were onesies; the shirts that babies wore that snapped between their legs and over their diapers, only for much bigger babies.  

Above them were displayed the same clear plastic packs of whimsically decorated adult diapers.  Above those were innocuous looking baseball caps that had very similar decorations on the front.

“Hello there,” a man in a black polo said, striding towards them. “Welcome to Ay Bee…” he froze. “You?”  Looks like they had another fan.

Rhea looked to her friends. None of them were laughing, but they both had a mischievous glint in their eyes that matched her own.  “Excuse me,” she said. “But…what is this place?”

“It’s uh…uh…uh…uh..um…wow…” the young man stammered.  Definitely a fan.

Rhea held her palm out to silence him. “Just a sec.” She turned to her companions. “About that rib…” she said, a sinister grin blossoming on her face.  “I think I have an idea.”

Alexa and Bayley were grinning and nodding along with the idea.  “Yeah?” Bayley asked. “Does it have anything to do with a certain someone calling you…Mami?”

Rhea nodded, slowly. “Mmmmhmmm…” She turned her attention to the star struck sales attendant.  “So…can you tell me all about this stuff?”

By the time the associate was done (very politely and professionally) info dumping a whole lot of things into the triad’s brains, the inkling of a rib had turned into something resembling an actual plan to get Dom back.

A couple autographs and pictures bought the building’s silence. The people there were very helpful about what sort of things could be purchased, where, and for how much. They didn’t buy any diapers that day, but out of courtesy purchased a onesie or two.  

There were only two questions remaining.  “When and where?” Alexa asked back in the car.

“Patience, ladies,” Rhea said, turning her phone back on.

PING!

This time she didn’t mind Dom’s childish harassment.

“Chicago…”

***********************************************************************************************
The Angle…

Going into the family business is harder than most people give it credit for. Yeah, you have access to resources, training, and a kind of job security; there’s no denying that. But it also takes a toll on your identity. You never really break away from the people who see you as a kid. There’s no such thing as a fresh start or a clean break.  You’re always in the shadow of someone else’s legacy.  That’s what Dominik mysterio thought.

For all the leg-ups that being a “Mysterio” gave him, it came with the baggage of being ‘Rey’s kid’.  Everybody in the locker room who knew him before he started performing saw a little kid playing dress up.  Everybody who met him after saw a punk coasting off of Daddy’s coattails.  Some choice: A wannabe kid or a spoiled brat.

It wasn’t all bad. Growing up with the culture gave Dom a special insight into most things. He still had dues to pay and respect to show, but those expectations were second nature.  There was no learning curve or culture shock.  Some kids were raised Catholic; other folks were Jewish.  Dominik grew up in the Church of The Business. To him, things like locker room etiquette and kayfabe were no different than communion.

Being young, dumb, and twenty-five, Dom particularly liked ribbing folks. With what a high stress, and physically demanding profession that often involved the portrayal of overly dramatic characters that would make a telenovela star advise them to dial it back a bit, ribbing was a time honored tradition.  If you couldn’t relieve the tension by f***ing with your friends and co-workers, how could you relieve it?  It was part of one big game, and Dom loved playing it.

“Two hundred ninety-two,” Dom whispered to himself, driving to the address Rhea had given him.  “Two hundred ninety-two…two hundred ninety-two…”  That’s how many times he’d called Rhea Ripley ‘Mami’ not counting on camera segments.

His count was likely off by a dozen or so, but that didn’t make the game any less fun to him.

This particular game had started with an innocent slip of the tongue.  They’d just finished filming a backstage segment before a show.  Between recording f**k ups and line flubs, the less than two minute scene had taken close to an hour to record and over twenty takes.  The pre-recorded promos were sometimes harder to do than the in-ring stuff.  If a body botched something live there was no choice but to just grit your teeth and push forward.  It was better than doing take after take after take on something that might not even make the final cut.

They’d cut, called it a wrap, and the on-screen couple nodded and agreed to meet up after a quick dinner and a wardrobe change.  “Okay. See ya later, Mami.”  An honest mistake.  Over the last couple of months, he’d called her ‘Mami’ more times than any other name.  It was his character.

“The camera’s not on, Dom.”  Rhea’s eye twitched, ever so slightly.  Someone not as familiar with her might not have noticed.

“Oh. Sorry,” Dom had apologized.  He’d meant it too. Didn’t stop him from noticing how annoyed she looked.  Contrary to her character, or the tough emo/punk rock aesthetic she sported, Rhea was a sweetheart with nearly infinite reserves of patience.  One could hardly blame the young man for seeing the opportunity for some light psychological warfare, just to see how far he could push things.

Maybe the perceptions of him as a kid and a brat had a kernel of truth to them…

Since then, he’d been calling her ‘Mami’ every chance he got, just barely tapping that button again and again until, pestering her like a fly buzzing in her ear, or a note sung just slightly off key.  

Nearing three hundred instances over the course of months, the game was almost over.  Dom could sense it.  Either Rhea would snap and chew him out once and for all, or she’d become numb to it and accept it as a kind of pet name.  Either way he’d stop.  The joke wasn’t fun if it didn’t bother her, and if she yelled at him that meant he won.  On some level, he suspected she knew this, too.  That’s why the game had lasted this long.  Rhea was also playing the game.

Any day now, the game would be over.  His on-screen lover was close to cracking. He could sense it. Just. A. Little. More.  Then he could apologize and get back to work. Dom wasn’t slotted on the card , but he had a series of intricate interference spots to run for Rhea’s match. Hence him showing up to do his part.

Dom pulled up to the address Rhea had given him and looked around, worried that he’d punched the wrong address into his GPS.  It was dark by the time he rolled up, but this neighborhood was nice. Really nice. Just short of a gated community.  He was expecting a hotel or maybe a motel, but the place was closer to a single story mansion.  Nice cut lawn. Decorative trees. Calming brownish reddish bricks. Wide front windows with curtains that hid the inside.  Was this even the place?  The mailbox said it was.

He parallel parked on the street and got out of the car, looking around despite knowing he wouldn’t find anything.  Shitty part about constantly living out of airports and rental cars was that you couldn’t look from your buddies’ cars to know if you were in the right place at the right time.

Dom pulled his hoodie up over his head and slinked up to the front door.  Big show this weekend. Big enough so that they were given several days in advance to show up and practice their matches. No house shows in between last night’s T.V. taping and this weekend.  Didn’t mean he wanted to be recognized and bothered by nosey locals.  

Then he thought better of it and pulled the hood down. Young man in a hoodie after dark in a fancy neighborhood?  Recipe for disaster.  Thankfully the front lights were on.  Nothing to do but to walk up and knock on the door.  

Three swift knocks, and the door opened up. A welcoming familiar face greeted him from just across the threshold.  “Dom!” Rhea smiled.  “You made it!”

“Mami!” Dominik smiled back, loving the teasing. Two-hundred ninety-three.  “I did!”

Rhea stepped aside and waved him in. “Don’t just stand there,” she said, “get in. Get in before somebody sees you!”

Dom thumbed back over his shoulder. “Sure! Just let me get my suitcase.”
Rhea leaned forward and yanked him inside. “Pfft. Get it later. Come in and say hi!”

“Okay, okay!” He laughed, blushing despite himself. He stopped and looked around, taking the inside in.  Large, open floor plan.  Kitchen, living room, big screen television, and the like could all be seen with just a scan. The place even had a bar along one of the walls, and bottles of liquor shelved right behind it.   All of it was in one big common area like a clubhouse or a high end fraternity house. Adjourning doors and hallways more than likely lead to bathrooms, bedrooms, laundry room, garage and such. “Nice place!”

“You like it?” Rhea asked, ushering him deeper inside, steering him towards the bar. After a long day of travel, Dominik did not resist.

“Yeah,” Dom replied. “Real nice.”  Something just occurred to him. “Who am I saying high to?”

One of the side doors opened up just a crack. Alexa and Bayley slipped out of the opening they’d made and quietly shut the door behind them. “Hi, Dom!” they waved, coyly.  Dirty thoughts intruded into Dom’s head.

“Hey Alexa. Hey Bayley,” He shoved his hands into his pockets and looked away. “So…what are we doing here?” He asked, hastily.  “Why aren’t we in a hotel or something?”

Rhea and he finished walking up to the bar and leaned backwards on the counter. “Oh, you know,” she said casually. “Figured since we’d be in Chicago for a couple days, it made more sense to get an AirBnB.  Pool our money together, get some privacy and just…chill, y’know?”

That made sense. Privacy and the time to be still and unpack a suitcase for something besides dumping clothes into a coin operated laundry was something of a delicacy. There were fans everywhere who harassed them. Most were nice, perfectly pleasant people, but there were just enough borderline stalkers out there to put someone on guard when traveling.  

“Who else is here?” Dominik asked. This AirBnB wasn’t the ritziest, but it didn’t look cheap. Wrestlers at this level could make serious bank, but they had to pay for most of their travel expenses, too.  This place could fit a lot more people comfortably if they were willing to double up.

“Just us,” Bayley answered.  She was soon behind the bar, reaching for a bar of tequila.

Dom blinked.  The young man’s lust battled with a sense of propriety.  The only guy with three beautiful women? Yes please! Something didn’t feel right about it though. When Rhea texted they’d be hanging and partying tonight, Dominik had pictured something less…intimate. Lots of people, loud music. Drinking, yes, but also dancing.   Was he just early? “Who else is coming?”


Alexa set out a couple of shot glasses. “Tonight? Just us.”


The young man swallowed. His libido had been slightly bluffing him and it was being called. “Just us? Why just us?” He clarified. “Why me?”

“We’ll have banger later,” Rhea assured him. “We just wanted to have tonight to ourselves.”

Was this happening? Was this really happening? Dom repeated himself. “Yeah. But…why me?”

Rhea pivoted so that she was leaning forward. The two were now side by side, heads turned towards one another. “Honestly, Dom?” she said. “We felt better having a guy around if somebody decided to follow us back here. Chase ‘em off.”

“Um…” Dom blushed. “Pretty sure you’re better in an actual fight than me.” He remembered to look across to the other women. “All of you.”

“We know that,” Bayley said. “But some creep off the streets might not.”

“We just don’t wanna get harassed this week,” Alexa added in.  She took a bottle of tequila and started pouring into the shot glasses.  “Figured a guy hanging around could keep the idiots from trying and finding out the hard way.” She finished pouring and looked up.  “And you’re safe.”

“And if you’re not,” Rhea elbowed him. “I’ll kick your ass.”

The nervousness fled right out of Dom’s brainstem.  He wasn’t being hit on!  He was being friend-zoned! Oh God, what a relief.  He liked Rhea and the others, but coworker stuff never worked out in the end.  For once, he was glad to be everybody’s kid brother. Internally he wiped the imaginary sweat from his brow.

“Okay,” Dom said. “Cool.”  Another thought. “Shit, how much do I owe you?”  He hadn’t given them a cent for this place.

“Don’t worry about it,” Rhea waved it off. “We’ve all got a big payoff coming.” By ‘we’, she clearly meant herself, Alexa, and Bayley. Wrestlers getting their own match tended to get paid more than the ones doing run-ins and interference.

“Just handle your own food and drink,” Bayley said, “and we’ll be good. Throw in for pizza or whatever.”  Bayley slid a shot glass full of tequila Dominik’s way.  “Here you go.”

Dominik did his best to hide a grin. Get to hang out most of the week in a big house with three beautiful women and only have to pay for his food? Sex or no sex that was a hell of a deal! Any bruising to his ego  (It still would have been nice to get hit on, even if he’d have to object ) was immediately salved by the accommodations in relation to his wallet.  

He reached to grab the shot glass…and suddenly thought better of it.  “No thanks,” he said. “That stuff looks expensive.” If he hadn’t been looking at the glass, he’d have clocked the enormous stink eye that Rhea was giving Bayley right then.  “I think I’m gonna go out to my car, get my stuff, and go to bed.”  He stood up from the bar. “Which room is mine?”

“Or…” Alexa offered, “How about a bet?”  

Dom cocked an eyebrow. “What kind of a bet?”

Alexa giggled. “Last one to pass out doesn’t have to pay for it.”  She took one of the glasses and threw it back.

A drinking game?  Dom’s competitive instinct kicked in. Free booze tasted the best. He had to have had at least fifty pounds on all of them. He could totally drink all three of them under the table.  Dom took the offered shot and took a shot.  “Wooooooo!” he crowed. This stuff was smooth!  “Deal!”

Rhea and Bayley took their shots, and Rhea walked behind the bar.  “I gotta feeling we’ll need two bottles of this stuff tonight,” she said, opening a second bottle while Dom was pouring a second shot.

Dom took another shot before the others had started pouring.  The stuff was already starting to kick in.  “You ladies are in for a rough night!”

Rhea poured herself, Alexa and Bayley, shots from the extra bottle she broke out. “We’ll see about that.”

****************************************************************************************
Dark…

“Smooth move, Bayley,” Rhea said sarcastically while she plopped an unconscious Dominik onto the couch.  “You almost blew it with that pay for food and drink, thing.”

“I thought he’d get suspicious if we told him everything was free,” Bayley said. How was I supposed to know he’d want to be cheap?”

“His dad has been doing this forever, and he’s got a sister,” Alexa answered. “You think Rey didn’t teach him how to save?”

Bayley was starting to get defensive. “Why’d we have to go for the expensive stuff? We could have gotten him to pass out with just beer and pizza.”  

The women made almost no attempt to lower their voices. They’d steadily plied Dom with tequila until he was blackout drunk and dead to the world. They could have their own wrestlemania here in the rented living room and he’d sleep through it.  

Rhea rolled her eyes.  “Because beer and pizza takes longer, and it’s harder to fake.”  

The second tequila bottle had practically been a prop.There was just enough tequila in it so that the smell lingered. The rest of its contents had been flat ginger ale. After the first round of shots, Dom had been the only one of them actually drinking anything.  If he’d been paying attention, he might have noticed that the girls were all drinking from the same bottle and weren’t half as wobbly as he was, but being drunk tended to make it harder to notice such things. Point being, beer and pizza didn’t hit as hard or as quickly.  Rhea had wanted to go straight for the proverbial throat.

“Whatever,” Rhea said. “It’s not a big deal. Things are still going according to plan.” She gave a thumbs up to Alexa.  “Nice save with the drinking contest.”

Alexa returned the gesture. “Don’t mention it.”

“Ready to get to work, ladies?”

Bayley smiled, mischievously. “We kind of beat you to it. Everything is about ready to go.”  So that’s what they’d been doing in Dom’s room!

Rhea’s glee bubbled up so hard that it was easy to forgive and forget the close call Bayley made in the name of realism.“How much of it?”

“We managed to get everything out of the boxes,” Bayley said.  

Alexa reported “Table is put together. Figured you’d want that first.”

“Uh-uh,’ Rhea shook her head.  “We do this, we’re doing it right.  We put everything together, we clean up the packaging, and put everything that either doesn’t belong to us or that we don’t need in the garage.”

There had been a reason Rhea wanted to do this bit of ribbing revenge here, just outside of Chicago.  When they’d found out about this particular community back in Seattle, Rhea had learned that there was a very big presence in Chicago as well.

How big?  Big enough where custom furniture was a thing. What she couldn’t rent, she could commission.  The whole thing was insanely expensive to the point where the opulent AirBnB they were staying in was one of the least costly parts of this bit.  It would all be worth it in the end.

“Come on,” she said.  “Let’s get to work.”

Alexa jerked her head towards a still sleeping Dom?  “Don’t you wanna…you know? Just in case?”

“No,” Rhea told her. “I don’t. I don’t wanna risk waking him up. I want everything perfect when he wakes up.”

“What if he…?”  Bayley folded her hands over the front of her pants and did a little dance in place. They’d really have to get used to saying the words out loud.

“If he wets in his sleep, it’ll add to the rib and make it even more embarrassing what I put a nappy on him.”

With just the three of them, it’d take at least a couple hours to set all this up. This stuff was heavy and none of them were experienced at this. It wouldn’t be easy, but it most certainly worth it.

“Come on. Let’s get to work.  See how he feels about calling me ‘Mami’ after this.”

The three laughed.  Dominik stirred drunkenly, but didn’t open his eyes.
************************************************************************************
Shine…

“Dom,” a gentle voice roused Dominik from his slumber.  “Dom. Time to wake up, honey.  It’s morning!”

Dominik Mysterio was still dreaming, or so he thought.  He certainly wasn’t awake. Couldn’t be.  His body was determined to stay unconscious to the point where he was practically a bear in winter. “Hrrrn…?” He sleep-mumbled.   

“Now, now,” the voice chirped gently in his ear. “I can’t have my widdle man sleepin’ the day away.  Let's get up.  C’mon! Wakey, wakey!”

That voice? That accent. It sounded so familiar that even his not quite awake brain recognized it. It was Rhea, wasn’t it? Except it sounded higher pitched and happier than he was used to.  It wasn’t anything unnatural, just…different.  It was like how people’s voices unconsciously got higher and happier when they talked to little kids.  Exactly like that.

“Mmm…Mami?” Dom mumbled. He hadn’t meant to call her that this time. He’d just spent so much time messing with her, ribbing her, that the word jumped up and out of his mouth by accident.

Oddly enough, the slip of the tongue was rewarded.  “That’s right,” Rhea cooed back. “Time to wake up, baby.”

Dominik opened his eyes.  Rhea was standing over him, gently nudging him on the shoulder.  “Baby?”  He really was dreaming. Rhea would never call him that. Not off camera.  She’d never responded in any kind of affirmation before.  As far as Dominik knew she’d been trying to ignore him into submission.

“That’s right,” Rhea reached down and grabbed him by both shoulders, guiding him up off the couch until he was in a sitting position. “Time to get up, Dom-Dom.”  Every syllable was so syrupy that Dom could have poured it over pancakes.

Pancakes.

Dominik’s stomach rumbled. Last night’s drinking contest had given him a light hangover and a craving for sweet and greasy breakfast foods.  “Did I win?” he asked, groggily.

“Win what, baby?” Rhea took hold of his wrists and stepped back, pulling him up to a standing position.  “That’s right. Stand up. Good boy! So big!  Now let’s walk for Mami to your bedroom.”

She slowly led the stumbling Dominik away from the couch (how had he gotten there anyways?) and towards the door Alexa and Bailey had crept out of last night.  Besides his stomach, something else inside of him was signaling to him that it needed to be taken care of.  

Off in the opposite direction, he spied an open door with the trademark tiling and sink inside it.
Still slightly drunk, dreaming, or both, Dom leaned away from Rhea and tried to stumble towards the room with the porcelain.   “Baffoom,” Dominik mumbled.

“Bathroom?” Rhea replied. “Awww, that’s silly.  It’s not bathtime yet.” She yanked him back in the right direction, and Dom’s body saw little point in putting up any resistance.

Dominik’s vision got just a smidge clearer and he was more certain than before that he was still fast asleep.  How else could there be a big wooden playpen in the middle of the floor?  The thing was practically a cage- he’d seen training rings smaller than this- but it was loaded up with tremendous carnival sized stuffed animals. His gaze sharpening, he saw that next to the open island in the kitchen area was a tremendous highchair. In stumbling away from the couch, Dom remembered, he’d barely scraped by a baby floor gym that could have been used as a tent frame.

He really was still dreaming, wasn’t he?  “Wussallat?”he slurred while the dream came more and more into focus. Groggily, his hand drifted between his legs and he held himself.  

Rhea gently slapped his hand. “Ah-ah-ah” Dream Rhea said. “Mustn’t touch. Mustn’t touch.” The slap stung almost enough to wake him up. Almost.

Dominik had had dreams like this before. Okay, not like this, but close enough. Lots of times, especially after drinking, Dom would have dreams where he needed to pee, but some outside force- a vanishing toilet, a locked door, someone distracting him- prevented him from reaching his destination.  Then he’d wake all the way up, go take a piss, and be done with it. Dream over. He’d be lying if he said this was the first time Rhea was the distraction.  

Might as well just go with it.  “Mami,” he whined, “I gotta peeee!”

“Awwww,” Rhea giggled, leading him along. “Let’s get baby Dom Dom into his widdle nappy before he makes puddles on the floor.” She placed her hand on the door and pushed it open.

“Nappy?” Dominik repeated. “I thought I just woke…”  The sight inside gave him pause. “...up?”

The common area outside the room had already looked like a giant baby lived there. Big playpen out in the open. Big highchair in the kitchen. Big floor gym by the couch. This bedroom…wasn’t.  There was an adult sized crib in the far corner, the floor was tiled with foam puzzle pieces, there was a rocking horse as big as the real deal in the middle of everything and a changing table directly across from him.

Forward momentum with a pinch of shocked disbelief carried him and his figment Rhea over to the oversized baby changing station.

Rhea leaned into Dom, pressing her forearm against his chest and hooked her leg onto his heel. “Up we go!”  With one swift and surprising movement Rhea swept him off his feet; tripping him and then scooping him the rest of the way onto the table.

“Ooof!” The padded surface of the changing table broke his fall, but the sudden impact and the shock still knocked some air out of his lungs.  “Huh?”  Dominik gasped and blinked. This wasn’t feeling like a dream.

Rhea capitalized and worked Dom’s hands into something that was uncommon on changing tables meant for actual tables: two wrist cuffs.  “There we go,” she smiled maliciously. “This will keep the baby safe.”

“Baby?”  He still couldn’t believe what was going on.  This had to be a dream. There was no way that his senses could be showing him what they were showing him. Wasting no time, Rhea dug her hands into the waistband of Dominik’s pants and stripped them off his body as quickly as a magician removing a table cloth.  Shoes, socks, jeans, and underwear were all off and on the floor in less than two seconds.  

The feeling of cold air on his cock. The sensation of smooth vinyl cushions on his bare ass. The way the cuffs around his wrists chafed and stopped him from sitting up. The gleefully malicious grin on Rhea’s face.

“Awwww!” Rhea giggled. “Mami’s widdle boy must be cold.”  She reached down, took out an adult diaper stacked beneath the changing table, and unfolded it.  “Maybe this will help him feel more comfy womfy!”

Holy shit! This was real! This was too real!

“Rhea?!”  Dom yelped.  “What are you doing?!”

“It’s Mami, now.” Rhea said, taking an extra pad- a booster-and adding it to the front of the diaper. “Ma-mi. Can you say that for her? Mami? Ma. Mi.”

Was she serious?  Dom chuckled despite everything. “Rhea…”

The resulting smack to his naked thighs would have gotten a pop from the audience had there been one (Thank God there wasn’t one).  Pain and reflexes caused Dom to arc his back and thrust his hips, instinctively jumping away from the pain. “Yow!”

Rhea took the opening and slid the open diaper underneath Dominik’s rump just as it was coming back down to the mat.  “Nuh-uh.  It’s Mami now, Dom-Dom. This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”  A cloud of baby powder sprinkled down over his junk while she shook his head.  “Yes it is! Yes it is!  Only a baby would keep calling me Mami all day and all night!”

Oh no. Too late, Dom understood that he’d taken this ‘Mami’ thing too far. “Rhea, I-!”  The resulting smack risked leaving a bruise. “Ma-miiiiii!” She seemed to enjoy hearing that name come from him. “Mami!” he tried again. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to!”

Rhea took the front of the adult diaper and hoisted it up between his legs. “Hold still, baby,” she said.  “I know it’s hard, but you only have to lay there for four seconds. “Just one second longer than you’re used to.”

Oooof…that comment stung almost as much as the slap to his thigh, but she was true to her word.

“One…two…three…four!  All done!”  Four seconds. One for each tape on the snug new diaper. On some level Dominik hoped he was actually dreaming. He craned his neck and looked at the waistband of his diaper. The pastel colored blocks stenciled in just below his belly button spelled B-A-B-Y over and over again.

He didn’t know that.

“Mami!” He repeated, his desperation mounting. “Please! Let me out of this! I’m sorry!”

“Sorry?” Rhea sweetly mocked him. “What’s there to be sorry about?  It’s natural for baby boys like you to call the women who take care of them ‘Mami’.  Isn’t it?”  She dug into her pocket with one hand and took out her cell phone. With the other she pushed the t-shirt and hoodie Dominik had fallen asleep in high up to his chest so that nothing was obstructing the view of his diaper.  
“What are you-?”

“Sh-sh-sh-sh” she said. Aiming the phone so that his crotch and face were in full view.  “It’s important for Mami to have some baby pictures of her widdle Dom-Dom.”  The clicking sound gave proof that it wasn’t a bluff.  “Aaaaaand send!”

“Send?! Send where?!”

Two pinging sounds echoed from somewhere in the house.  The sound of rapid feet slapping in.

A head of dyed blonde hair came into view.  Alexa stormed in, wearing only a loose t-shirt (as far as Dom could tell). “Eeeeeeeeee!” she squealed. “So precious!  Why didn’t you wake me up? I told you to wake me up!”  She was jumping like Dom was a new puppy that she wanted to play with.  “Is he wet yet?”  Her hand reached out and groped him through the padding of his diaper hard enough to where he could feel it through all the padding.  “I’m bad with baby stuff! I can’t tell!”

“Sorry,” Rhea apologized to her. “I didn’t know how fussy he’d be first thing in the morning. I just got him changed.”

“Was he wet when you got him up?”

“No,” Rhea replied. “I think we got lucky.”

Dom tried to interject. “Guys-?”

“Dom-Dom,” Rhea cut him off. “Adults are talking.”

A second pair of footsteps preceded Bailey barging in. She was more dressed than Alexa, but her outfit was still extremely casual.  “Awwww!” she said. “I missed the first change!”

“No you didn’t,” Alexa giggled. “Dom-Dom was dry when his Mami got him up!”  This ‘Mami’ rib was getting less and less funny.

Bailey muscled her way to the spot by Dominik’s waist. She slid two fingers past the leakguards of his diaper and frowned. “Darn. Still dry.”

Dom had fantasized about pretty girls touching him down there. Just not like this!

Rhea fiddled with the restraints by his wrists. “Well he better keep dry for as long as he can. Nappies are expensive. I’m not changing his soggy bum until much later today.”

“But I thought if you left a baby wet for too long,” Bailey teased, “they’d be harder to potty train.”

Alexa piled on, “I don’t think that matters as much for someone like Dom-Dom!”

“That’s right,” Rhea agreed in the same cooing motherese she’d woken him up with. “By the time he’s ready for the big boy potty, Dom-Dom won’t even remember all this, he’s so widdle!”

Dominik said nothing. He waited till the wrist cuffs were loosened enough, then slipped his hands out and punched up for Rhea’s head. Nothing too serious, mind you. Knocking someone out is incredibly difficult to do in the best of circumstances; impossible from lying down. Yet when a rib goes too far, sometimes the best way to get it to stop is to show that you’re done f***ing around.  

It didn’t matter if he was done with this and his new Mami wasn’t inclined to be gentle.  Full rested and alert, Rhea parried the blow and leaned away from the swing.  She grabbed his arm and dragged him off the table.  

“Ow-ow-ow-ow!”  

Before he knew it, Dom was on his feet, but maneuvered back around so that his face was pressing down in the same general spot that his ass had been.  Rhea had him in an armbar. A real one.  

“Awwww….did baby Dom-Dom lose his balance?” she taunted.  “Is he not thinkin’ things through again?  That’s okay. His Mami will explain.” She cranked the arm just enough to keep him in pain.  “Mami and her friends are gonna take lots of pictures.”  The sound of whirring and clicks behind him reminded him of his diapered status and his lack of privacy.  “If Dom-Dom is a good baby, none of his big boy friends will have to find out about this.  If he’s naughty, he’s gonna get hurt, poor boy.  If he’s VERY naughty, all his friends are gonna see the pictures.” She paused for effect.  “Understand?”


They had him by the balls, figuratively and literally.  He wasn’t getting away. By herself Rhea would be a fight. No way he was getting out of this with Alexa and Bailey at her beck and call.  Even if he did slip and slink away without a fight, those pictures could end up with every guy in the locker room.  Worse yet, Twitter!  

Defeated and somewhat resigned, he growled out a reluctant “Yes, Ma’am.”

“What was that?”  She cranked on his arm again.

“Mami!” He cried out. “Yes, Mami! Sorry, Mami!”

The pain stopped and Dom got his arm back.  “Good baby.”  She side-stepped up behind him and took the rest of his clothes off just as he was getting the full motion back in his shoulder.,

Dom was forced to examine himself, afraid to touch the white plastic shell taped around his hips. Afraid to touch the baby blocks right above his crotch.

“Where’d you get this stuff?”

“Mami has her ways,” Rhea said. “Come on. Up you go!”  She hefted him up onto her hip. “There’s a good boy!” Whether it was his wrestling training or some kind of long buried instinct, Dominik helped Rhea, jumping with the lift and wrapping his legs around her waist so that he was supporting some of his weight.

She carried him out of the adult sized nursery, seemingly unbothered by his weight. “Ladies, why don’t you go get dressed for the day and get the pram ready while I give Dom-Dom his brekkies.”

“Can we help get him dressed?” Alexa asked.

“Oh I’ve got the cutest outfit out of the stuff we got him.” Bailey chimed in. “It’s got a little sailor hat and everything!”

“Sailor suit? Really?,” Alexa scoffed. “Do you want people to think it’s a costume?  What about those overalls I saw? They’ve got the cutest mickey prints on them!”

“Overalls?” Bailey balked. “Tell me you don’t know babies without telling me you don’t know babies. Do you know how hard it would be to change him? Those don’t even have any snaps on them!”

Change him?!

Did that mean they expected him to use the diaper as more than just very puffy underwear?!

Dominik felt like crawling into a hole and dying just listening to them talk.

Rhea carried Dom to the open kitchen and boosted him up into a highchair. For a quarter of a second, Dominik worried that more than just food would be going inside him.  He let out a worried “Yip” when he felt a protrusion press up against the back of his diaper.

“Scooch scooch scooch” Rhea clucked, and kept pushing him further back in the seat.  What he foolishly thought was some kind of plug was merely a protrusion, a dull horn like on a horse’s saddle.

Dom had been in higher spots before. The chair wasn’t even top turnbuckle height. It was still disconcerting and disorienting that he could be fully seated while looking Rhea in the eye.  His feet were dangling too. Damn. He couldn’t even come close to remembering the last time his feet were dangling.

He was distracted enough and relieved at the same time that Rhea was able to slide a feeding trade in front of him and secure it into place with a simple latch mechanism just out of reach. Rhea reached up and out and pinched his cheeks.  “Is Mami’s baby boy ready for some brekkies?”

Dominik didn’t immediately reply. Pride, embarrassment, and confusion mixed with adrenaline and the psychological need to cook up a snarky comeback made it so that all he did was stutter and stammer like a car. “Bi…Buh…Uh…nnnnnnn…”

Rhea went for the other cheek. “Bububububub. Someone’s not quite a talker yet, is he?”  This only made Dominik bury his face deep into the palms of his hands. Unconcerned, Rhea left him and opened up the freezer. “Let’s give baby some waffles!”

The diapered Dom quickly found she had good reason to be unconcerned. He couldn’t get out. The protruding horn made it so he couldn’t slide out of the seat. The tray was so low that he couldn’t slip his legs back up into the seat.  Trapped! Trapped by simple physics!

If she wanted to, she could leave him here. Leave him all day. Trapped.  He squeezed his legs together and felt as much as he heard the crinkle and felt the thick padding between them. In his humiliation he’d already forgotten how badly he needed to go to the bathroom.  Well, he remembered now.

“Rhea?” Dominik called out.  “Rhea?”  His on camera lover ignored him, content and intent on the toasting of frozen waffles.  “Rhea?”  She was practically deaf to his calls. Except for maybe… “Mami?”

Rhea perked up and came right over. “Awwww!” She squealed. “He can talk!” She clapped her hands together, mock applauding him like he’d just said his first real world. Then she said, “Yes, Dom Dom?”

‘Dom Dom’ squirmed in the highchair. His mind hyperfocusing on certain dreadful inevitabilities. “You’re not going to just leave me in here all day, right?”

Dominik did not like the grin that spread across her face.  He feared he’d just given her an idea.  “Of course not, Dom Dom!” she said. “Didn’t you hear Mami talking to the girls? Mami’s gonna feed you breakfast, and then she’s gonna get you dressed.”

“Can I go to the bathroom between then?” he asked, feeling terribly childish in the asking. It had been forever since he’d needed to ask such a thing.


Rhea paused and cocked her head to the side. “Bathroom?” She mused. “Oh Dom Dom. You’re much too little to go potty!” Dom felt his heart rocket up into his throat.  “Just make your tinkles in your nappy, Dom Dom.  Mami will change you when you need it.”

“Rhea! Come on!” Dominik protested. “This is ridiculous!” He was screaming almost as much as his bladder was.

The Australian woman stopped. “Call me ‘Rhea’ one more time and find out what happens.” The threat was made with a smile. It was still very much a threat.  

Beat and nearly broken, Dominik switched to begging. “I’m sorry I kept calling you Mami off camera! Just let me out of this!”

A hollow, metallic ka-thick sounded off. The waffles had just popped out of the toaster  “Time for brekkies widdle Dom Dom!” Rhea walked around the back of the highchair, out of Dominik’s line of sight.  The highchair’s wide back made it useless to try and look behind him. “You don’t have to apologize,” she called out. “You were just doing what came naturally, weren’t you?”  Her voice pitched up another octave.  “Weren’t you? Weren’t you Dom Dom? Weren’t you?”

Dominik had no idea if he was being genuinely asked or taunted.  “Yes…?”

“See?” Rhea cooed behind him. “Then you have nothing to worry about.  Mami isn’t mad.  She just wants to take care of you!” From behind, a bib was draped over Dominik’s chest and fastened around his neck. Like everything else it was comparatively massive. Dom could have used it as an apron or so he reckoned.  “And I’ll get you out of your highchair as soon as you’re done eating your yummy waffles.”

She practically danced back around into Dominik’s line of sight. She placed a plate on the highchair feeding tray. It was purple, and plastic, like something a little kid might eat off of. The waffles, likewise, were equally unsophisticated. They were store bought and frozen; practically bread hockey pucks.  Thankfully, Rhea made up for it by smearing them with butter and drowning them in syrup; she wasn’t that cruel.  

Only one problem. “Where’s the silverware?” A terrible realization dawned on him.  “You’re going to make me eat with my hands, aren’t you?”

“Of course not,” Rhea laughed. She took the dull knife and fork and waggled them mockingly in front of him. “Mami just has to cut up your waffles into smaller bites for you, so you don’t choke.”

Dominik was forced to sit there, diapered and bibbed, his bladder screaming, while Rhea sectioned off his food into individual bite-sized pieces. His waiting was not rewarded.  As soon as the waffles were appropriately shredded, Rhea ditched the knife and jabbed a piece with the fork.

“Okie dokie. Open up! Heeeeere comes the choo-choo!”

“I can feed myself,” Dominik insisted.
“Look at him!” She gushed as if he couldn’t understand simple English.  “Thinks he can feed his self!  Choooooo-chooooo!” Dominik blushed hot and opened his mouth anyways.

The first bit of bready breakfast entered his mouth. He chewed. And swallowed.

“Chugga-chugga-chugga-chugga-chooooo!”

The second one came.  He accepted it and swallowed.  At least the waffles weren’t half bad.  Laying idly on the trail, his hands and fingers anxiously twitched. What did real babies do with their hands?

Dominik didn’t have time to ponder that question, overmuch. The third piece darted for his mouth just as he was done swallowing.  Then the fourth. Then the fifth.  The train was picking up steam.  Dom opened his mouth before he swallowed, with more syrupy buttery bread mashed into a pulp being shoved down his throat.

Then again. Then again.  

Soon the first few crumbs slipped out and tumbled down his bib “Whoops!” Rhea said. “I guess that’s why babies wear bibs.”  She didn’t slow down. Dominik kept chewing and swallowing as fast as he could, but it wasn’t fast enough.  Rhea would shove the blunted fork between his lips time and time again.  If he had enough room in his mouth to accommodate, he did. If not…”Whoops!”

When the food was gone, and he swallowed the last bits, Dominik was left panting, the frozen waffles having been oddly filling.  If not for his aching bladder, he’d have been tempted to lie back down and go back to sleep.  That would mean getting locked inside a crib, he realized.  

He stared down at his plate in contemplation and got insult added to his injured pride.  A goofy smiley face, with googly eyes and a crooked smile laughed.  He’d been eating from a toddler’s plate.  “Yaaaaay!” Rhea clapped again. “Good job Dom Dom!”  

“Thank you,” he panted.  “Can I-?

“Thank you…?” Rhea put her hands on her hips. She was waiting for him to say something else.

Dom sighed.  “Thank you, Mami.”

“Good baby!”  A bottle was shoved directly in Dom’s face. “Now wash it all down!”

“But I have to-!”  Dominik was cut off with the nipple and a warning look before he could get the sentence out. He took the bottle and started chugging, less from thirst and more from willpower.

“That’s right,” Rhea praised him. “Drink it up. Make your ba-ba all gone.”

Dom’s thirst was quenched after less than five sips of the heavy, creamy stuff. From there it was pure torment. Every gulp and glug filled an already full stomach, making Dominik feel bloated and overfull.  His already screaming bladder kept filling, feeling like it was going to pop like a water balloon.  

This was no ordinary baby bottle either. Most baby bottles were small and didn’t hold much. Less than a can of soda. If the markings just beyond Dominik’s nose were accurate (and there was no reason for him to believe otherwise) this was a full thirty-two ounces!.

Dominik felt every single drop.

“Done!” He gasped when he was finally sucking on air.  “Fin-UUUUUUUUUUUUUURK!” He’d meant to say finished, but the bubbles in his stomach had other ideas.

Rhea’s eyes widened with the delight of a new idea. “Baby needs burping!”

The bib was removed, the latch was undone, and the highchair tray was removed. Dominik wanted to make a break for it, but his stomach was so full and his muscles yet ached, so he was left with no choice but to fall back into his Mami’s grasp.  

Rhea wasted no time beating the young man across the back.  Some of them were hard enough that if he’d been performing, Dom would have taken a dive to the mat in order to sell the impact.

“UUURP!”


“URRRP!”

“URRRP!”


“AWWWWWWW!”  

Dominik stiffed in Rhea’s grasp. Rhea turned with him to show.  Alexa and Bailey had come out of their rooms, fully dressed, and had whipped out their phones.  “Got it?”

“Got his cute little butt getting burped!” Alexa laughed. The day had barely begun and the three of them were compiling a lifetime’s worth of blackmail material on him.

Bailey put her phone down long enough to say, “Sad we didn’t get out in time to see him in that highchair.”

“That just means we’ll have to find a reason to use it later,” Rhea smirked. “Got an outfit picked out?”

From behind her back, Alexa took out a bright blue onesie, the world “Mommy’s Boy” emblazoned on it in white blocky font.

“It’s not spelled right,” Rhea nodded, “but it’ll do.” She started walking back towards the nursery.

“Mami!” Dom yelped. “I gotta go to the bathroom!”  He’d done everything she’d said. Surely she’d let him have this if he was determined enough.

Rhea didn’t break her stride. “Awww, that’s cute. But I already told you Dom Dom. You’re not potty trained.”

“But I ate my breakfast!” Dom said, panic rising with his mounting discomfort. “You said-!”

“I said I’d get you out of the highchair when you were done,” she countered. “And I did.”

Dom was roughly deposited sitting on the changing table. Only an act of supreme willpower kept more than a dribble from ending up in Dom’s plastic backed panties. Even that tiny trickle was enough to tempt the young man.

The onesie was pulled roughly over Dominik’s head. He didn’t get his arms through the sleeves before he was roughly shoved back down onto the padded bench, causing another agonizing trickle.

He would not do this. He would not do this. He would not do this.

Rhea hooked both legs to boost his hips and yanked the back of the onesie up and over. Four button snaps later. Dominik somehow looked even more babyish than when he was wearing just the diaper.

“I think he should wear that to the ring,” Bailey teased.

“Full agree,” Alexa smiled.

 If Rhea disagreed, she didn’t disabuse her cohorts.  “Everything ready?”

“Mhm,” Alexa nodded. “Carriage is nice and cozy, with extra blankets.”

Carriage?! Like a baby buggy? The kind that only the smallest babies rode in? Not even a stroller?!  How the hell-?

“I packed his diaper bag,” Bailey added, with overmuch enthusiasm.

Dominik felt like swallowing his own tongue. Wriggling his arms into the onesie’s sleeves and tried to sit up.  “We’re not going to the arena are we?”

Rhea’s palm and Dom’s terror were all that were needed to keep him down.  “Awww, wook at him wonderin’!” She taunted.  “No, Dom Dom. Mami’s not taking you there. That’s much too far away. We’re going somewhere else.”

“Where?”

Her eyes twinkled malevolently. Out from underneath the changing table, Rhea revealed one last article of clothing: A bright blue, frilly baby bonnet. Grinning like a cheshire cat that swallowed the canary, she tied it around Dom’s head.  The transformation was complete.

She picked him up once more and hefted him to the front door. “Why doesn’t Mami show you?”


(To be continued…)

[Eagle0769]

Oh yes my kind of story. 

What does Mami mean?

Hope the girls get to baby him too.

Hope there will be more. 🙂

[Personalias]

On 9/30/2023 at 3:10 PM, Eagle0769 said:

Oh yes my kind of story. 

What does Mami mean?

Hope the girls get to baby him too.

Hope there will be more. 🙂

To my understanding it's a Spanish slang term.  I think casually, it's used the same way as calling a pretty girl "baby" or "honey".  But it's derived from "Mama".  So it's kind of like a guy hitting on a girl in that way where instead of going "Hey baby", the reaction is closer to "Whoah Mama!"  Has some more dominant undertones.

It's probably the closest thing I can think of to a guy calling their gal "Mommy" WITHOUT the implication of an ageplay relationship. 

Note: I am VERY white and I do not have more than a passing understanding of all the various Spanish speaking cultures around the world.  If anyone knows more than me about this I will happily be corrected.

[CDfm]

Awesome start to the story.  I am enjoying the irony of the name and the fact he is totally being dominated by three pretty ladies all of whom can kick his ass. I think Don needs to shut up and accept his fate.  He definitely messed with the wrong lady and needs to pay for it.  I am looking forward to seeing more. 

[Eagle0769]

I'm really enjoying your sorry.

Waiting for more.

Some where in your story is their a reference to

what Dom Dom looks like? His height is weight? 🙂

[Personalias]

On 10/3/2023 at 9:12 AM, Eagle0769 said:

I'm really enjoying your sorry.

Waiting for more.

Some where in your story is their a reference to

what Dom Dom looks like? His height is weight? 🙂

I don't think so, to be honest. This was a fanfic and a commission, so I didn't think to describe the characters since to this commissioner, it'd be a bit like describing Bugs Bunny.  (Everybody in the target audience already knows.)  But if you google Dominik Mysterio, you'll find his picture.  Same for Rhea Ripley etc.

Edit: But you're right, it was an oversight on my part.

[littlebopeeper]

While the narrative seems pretty conventional, I really like the way you set the story up.  You have done a terrific job of taking the mask off professional wrestling, and embedding your characters in that universe.  

[Personalias]

15 hours ago, littlebopeeper said:

While the narrative seems pretty conventional, I really like the way you set the story up.  You have done a terrific job of taking the mask off professional wrestling, and embedding your characters in that universe.  

A pet peeve of mine is stories that treat what we see in front of the camera as "real".  With very few exceptions, nobody loses a match that they weren't supposed to.  So the source of the inciting incident COULDN'T be  "I lost a loser wears a diaper match and now am 24/7" or any other such premise.  But wrestlers DO play pranks and hazings on one another irl.  And there is a sort of pecking order.  So that's the angle I approached it from when commissioned.

[Eagle0769]

I really hope you are going to continue this great story.

[Personalias]

Heat…

Dominik was plopped down into a giant makeshift baby carriage.  ‘Makeshift’ didn’t do it justice.  ‘Custom’ was more like it. Its wheels belonged to wheelchairs. Its bed was a soft foam child’s mattress, just barely big enough for him to fit in.  Its siding and rails were upholstered in black leather with thick steel mesh from several shopping carts, and the canopy over his head had more in common with a convertible roof.  

Taken all together, Dom was most definitely being dumped into a much larger version of a classic baby buggy; the kind seen mostly in cartoons.

Dominik felt like a cartoon character, just then.  He was wearing a bonnet and a onesie. And underneath the onesie was crinkling, almost completely dry diaper.  The dryness was in spite of his bladder pleading, begging, screaming, and now actively fighting against him for release.  The ‘almost’ was because it had already gotten a few good hits in.  

The thing about cartoons though, Dominik thought, was that usually the character who looked like this wasn’t exactly what someone would call ‘a winner’.  Laying there on the pristine white sheets, feeling dreadfully exposed in the open air, ‘winner’ is not how Dominik would describe himself in this moment.

Rhea circled around. “Here we go, baby boy, she taunted him.  She threw a sky blue blanket- correction: a blankie- over Dominik’s  bare legs. Dominik grabbed it like it was a life preserver and yanked it up to his head.  Doing so only left his naked legs on display.

Shit!

He settled for covering his legs and hoping the canopy would do the rest of the job.  “Where are we going?” he practically squeaked.

“You’ll see, Dom Dom,” Rhea darkly chuckled. “You’ll see.”

Rhea disappeared behind the novelty carriage and things started moving. Rhea, Bailey, and Alexa all started chattering just out of sight. 

Dom didn’t listen to it. Couldn’t. Every bit of gray matter between his ears was overwhelmed to make sense of anything.  

His ears listened for footsteps. Save for the shuffling of sneakers behind him, there were none. There was the sound of passing cars, but only in the distance.  His eyes peeled and his head swiveled looking for people; additional witnesses to his humiliation.  None of those, either. Not for the moment.

There were cars in people’s driveways and parallel parked on the streets, but no people that he could see.  Anxiety, forbid that Dominik look too hard or  lean out too far.  If people were watching from inside their homes or on their doorsteps, the young man would only be able to see them if he poked his head out from beneath the carriage’s canopy. Problem was, if he could see them, they could see him.

He wasn’t the most famous wrestler in the world- he was no Rock, John Cena, or Undertaker- but if a picture of him like this made its way on the internet, he’d be done.  Fuck! The girls already had taken pictures of him. On the changing table and in Rhea’s arms, his diaper in full view and easily identifiable.

Dominik mentally checked himself.  It wasn’t HIS diaper…it’s not like he chose to wear it.  Not like he bought it or anything. Not like he put it on himself.  Not like babies did any of that stuff, either.

FUCK!

If only he worked with a mask like his dad. Nobody had seen his dad’s face on T.V. since 1999 and twenty extra years disguised Rey’s natural appearance even better than any mask.

Compounding all of this was the raging protest still going on between his legs, compounded now by the milk he’d been forced to chug making its way to an already full bladder.  His senses were frazzled besides. Alcohol was good for unconsciousness but not great for R.E.M sleep. Rehydration to recover from the effects of a hangover took time and milk was far from the best thing for it.
Domink Mysterio was outnumbered, had been out planned, and was outgunned on so many levels.  There was no good move for him to make, so he settled for staying still.  However, the question yet lingered…

“Mami…” he said. No reply came. He was only speaking at just above a whisper, but out in the open with how embarrassing everything was, his own words sounded to him as if amplified by a bullhorn.  The girls kept talking and laughing.A lot.  Lots of laughing.

Whether they were deliberately ignoring him, or just couldn’t hear him, was impossible to decide. “Mami!” He felt like he was screaming, but in truth he was only speaking slightly louder than before.

Mercifully, she responded. “What’s that, Dom Dom?”

“Where are we going?”

“I already told you, baby,” she said. “It’s a surprise.”

“Will there be a bathroom there?” It was a stupid roundabout request, but he felt like his eyeballs were floating.

“AWWW!” the women cooed loudly enough to make Dominik shake in fright. The buggy drew too much attention already!  

“He wants to use the potty like a big boy!” Alexa mocked.

“Wants to be just like his Mami!” Bailey piled on.

“I definitely don’t think he’s ready for it,” Rhea commented. “He was a bedwetter till he was six!”  

The resulting cackles made his skin crawl. How did they know about that? Did they get that from his dad? Was his dad in on this?! Dominik pouted out his lip out in confusion. Was it even true? Dominik literally couldn’t remember when he stopped wetting the bed. It wasn’t something anybody had made fun of him for growing up.  He only knew that his little sister kept wetting the bed for a while after she was otherwise potty trained. It was just something that happened with little kids.  Was he being gaslighted?

The pang in his bladder turned into an all out gong. Another little dribble eeked its way out of his penis and into the front of his diaper.  Holding it in automatically was becoming less and less of an option.  Dominik was forced to switch to manual.  

Crinkling and rustling in the carriage Dominik brought his knees up and balled himself up into a fetal position. He sat up halfway and slapped his hands over his padded crotch, holding himself like a preschooler who had to go but didn’t know what the next step was.  The onesie prevented him direct access to himself, so he had to make due by pressing down as hard as he could through all the plastic backed padding.  It didn’t help much; still better than nothing.

Bailey jogged up to the side and looked inward. “Uh oh!”  Bailey said far too loudly. “I think little Dom Dom is trying to play with himself!”

To be fair, it was easy enough to make that assumption. He was covered in a blankie from the waist down, and his hands had plunged beneath it. He looked incredibly guilty.  To be real, Bailey was totally fucking with him. 

“No!” he screeched, outraged and panicking that someone would hear them. “I’m just trying to…hold it in.”

“Don’t be silly, Dom Dom.” Rhea said, still behind him.  “You’re too little to hold it in. You must be playing with yourself.” The carriage stopped. Dominik felt it jostle slightly, a braking mechanism.  “No worries, Mami’s got something to handle that.”

“Nooooo!” Dominik howled. He tried to make a run for it. He didn’t know what was coming, but was certain he wasn’t going to like it.  The hot gravel scorching his feet was infinitely preferable to whatever these three cooked up.

Poor Dom didn’t even get one foot all the way out of the buggy. Bailey and Alexa hooked him under the arms and slammed him back down on the soft mattress.  He kicked and screamed.

Rhea walked around to the other end of the carriage so that she was standing and staring directly at him.  “Dom Dom,” she said with an air of menace, “I know you’re curious and want to explore down there, but we don’t do that in public.  It’s perfectly natural, but we don’t do it when we’re out and about.  Understand?”

Dominik swallowed. “Yes…Mami.”

“Good boy.”  He noticed a bright blue diaper bag on her shoulder.  She opened it and started digging around, giving Dominik a good look at the folded white rectangles within easy reach..  She was serious about this!  “Where did I put -? Ah! Here we are!”  She took out two pairs of handcuffs. Dom had seen something like those before; they just weren’t normally baby blue.  What he’d never seen before today were the mittens.

“No! No, no, no!”  

Bailey and Alexa pressed him down and kept him prone. One at a time, Rhea placed the thick, padded, restrictive gloves on his hands reducing them to little more than cushioned hooves, and finished it off by handcuffing inside the buggy.  He was left splayed out horizontally in an almost crucifix position.  

“I know you can’t control yourself, baby boy,” Rhea said, patronizingly. “So these will help.”
These didn’t ‘help’ anything. They only made things more difficult. The mittens left his hands useless.  If he was going to grab anything, Dom would need to use both arms; his fingers and thumbs bound and immobilized; his hands practically stumps. The things looked so rounded and bulky he doubted he could have so much as mashed an elevator button with any kind of accuracy.  

The added handcuffs made the gloves practically pointless. Whatever the gloves were supposed to accomplish in the long run, the handcuffs did one better in the short.  Dominik could neither escape, nor prevent himself from having an accident by applying pressure downstairs. Both forms of restraints required a key to lock and unlock them.

“He tried to make a run for it too, Rhea,” Alexa reminded her.

“Yeah,” she said. “I saw that too.”  Out came the matching booties. Just as thick as the mittens.

What the hell would the booties accomplish?  He didn’t exactly grab stuff with his feet. He didn’t have to ask.  Rhea showed him.  “There we go,” she said in a sing-song sort of way. “Keep your toesies nice and comfy.”  She gave a forceful press up against the soles of his feet.

Dominik clenched his teeth and hissed. He didn’t yelp or yip or scream, but it took conscious effort. Some sicko had lined the insides of these things with some kind of blunted metal spikes!   If Dominik put literally any weight on the bottom of his feet, it’d be like stepping on Legos.  Like the mittens, the booties were also impossible to remove without the key soon put away in the pocket of Rhea’s diaper bag.

“Nice and cozy?” Rhea asked.

Dominik nodded, woefully frightened. “Yes, Mami.”

“Good. We’re almost there.”

The carriage jostled, and they started moving once more.. Dominik broke out into a sweat that had nothing to do with the heat, or his non-breathable clothes.

Trapped in his rolling bed, he started panting anxiously, trying to look out for threats despite being completely unable to avoid them.  He couldn’t believe what was happening!  He started trying to calm himself.  

“This is a rib,” he said to himself. This is just a rib. It’s just a rib. Nothing’s gonna happen.”

A sharp right turn and a large one story brick building came into focus. Big open windows for letting sunlight inside. Decorative animal statues on the grass by the sidewalk. A cement awning with greek style pillars holding it up.  The place had definite Upper Middle Class Public Library energy.  

Cars were in the parking lot. People were here! And the carriage was making a bee-line for the front doors!

“Community Center” the large permanent sign out front read. The double doors were blacked out and papered over.  A sign by them read  “Closed Today for Private Event.”

Bailey and Alexa jogged forward, holding open the doors.  “Right this way, cutie!” Bailey chirped.

“This is a rib,” Dominik hissed to himself. “This is a rib, this is a rib, this is a rib.”

The inside of the building went dark as soon as the doors shut behind them. Only a few shafts of errant sunlight let Dominik see where he was being taken. He made out the rough boxy outline of what he assumed was some kind of reception or information desk.

Rhea’s accomplices opened yet another set of double doors, these appearing to be made out of heavy carved wood instead of papered over glass.  “Almost there…” Alexa taunted him.

“What are-?” 

“Shhhhhh,” Rhea hushed him.  “Just try to enjoy the ride, Dom Dom.”

It was darker inside this room. There were no windows to let it in light from the outside.  It might as well have been a tomb once the doors were closed.  

The metal clunking of a latch being put into place.  Hushed, unfamiliar whispers in the darkness. Wheels creaking to a halt.

“This is a rib.  This is a rib. This is a rib.”

The lights flicked on and the room came to life.

“SURPRIIIIIIIIIIISE!”

Dominik found himself in the middle of a banquet hall. Half a dozen of his coworkers, all women, surrounded him, holding gift wrapped boxes as well toothy, gleeful, malicious smiles.  Things that couldn’t be held decorated the periphery. Tables were dotted with teddy bears tethering ‘It’s a Boy’ balloons. In the back, right where he could see it, Dominik read a banner.  “CONGRATULATIONS MAMI!”

This wasn’t a rib. This was an execution.  

The surprise, shock, and the toll of time and added fluids on Dominik’s bladder caused the dam to finally break. Liquid heat surged out of him and into the front of his formerly fresh diaper. Domini’s face melted and constricted in agony as piss poured out of him, splashing up against his privates before being quickly and quietly soaked up and wicked away. Dominik went deathly still in the carriage, too overwhelmed and too potty trained to move and pee at the same time. Part of him fantasized that maybe if he didn’t move, no one would be able to see him or know that he was pissing. Surely, kicking and screaming would be an admission of guilt.

Simultaneously, Dominik’s eyes took in and registered his newest tormentors: Zelina Vega; Nikki Bella; Carmella; Liv Morgan; Becky Lynch; Dakota Kai.  It was a VIP who’s who of women Dominik never wanted to piss off.  All wore normal street clothes instead the colorful tights audiences had grown accustomed to seeing them wear on television over the years. To Dom, that was more frightening than if they were in their ring attire.  Had they been dressed in boots, tights, and bustiers, Dom could have told himself that this was a work; a performance. 

This? Whatever was about to happen, this was for real. 

A few additional seconds of uncomfortable silence and nervous giggling. Dominik was only able to find his voice after he’d finished peeing. “Mami,” he screeched, “what’s going on? I’m sorry!” 

His question/apology was instantly countered with a tidal wave of “AWWWWWWWW!”  The noise of now nine women mock fawning over his every syllable was like nails on a chalkboard to Dominik.

The young man winced and tired (but failed) not to blush. Drenched in his own urine, trapped in a carriage, yet somehow still ‘cute’. This was what it was like to be a baby.  

“Look how cute he is!”

“With the little bonnet!”

“So precious!”

“Did we wake you up from your nap, little guy?”

“He looks so happy to be here!”

“Of course he is! Rhea’s little Dom Dom just loves attention!”

Their phones were all out, snapping blackmail pic after blackmail pic. Dominik made it all the way to twenty-six years old..  Whelp…he’d had a good run. Life over now.

“Oh my gosh, is he actually wearing a diaper!”

“Is he wet?”

“Of course he is!”

Dominik did his best to hide his face, tucking his chin and burying it in his own bicep.  It failed miserably due to the handcuffs.

“Oh yeah.”  That one came from Nikki.  The  question about the state of his pants and the first confirmation were from Dakota and Zelina respectively.  “Trust me,” Bella twin said. “Dry diapers don’t get that kind of puffy.”  The other newcomers, all who’d had children of their own, nodded sagely in agreement.  

Dominik almost vomited in embarrassment. He hadn’t noticed the way his diaper had swelled up like a sponge.  Even now, it was getting tighter and tighter, the diaper straining against the onesie containing it as the pulp inside absorbed the last of his leavings.

Rhea walked around from the back of the carriage. She stood by one side so she could reach him, but angled herself so she was staring directly at him.  “Dom Dom,” she said. “You got into a nasty little habit of calling me ‘Mami’ when you clearly knew it was bothering me.”

“I’m sorry!” 

Her finger pressed up against his lips; silencing him. “I’m. Not. Done. Talking.”  Dominik gulped his words down.  She went on.  “But after thinking about it and having a little talk with the girls, I decided that I wasn’t going to get mad…” still in a sort of character, she let there be silence where most people would have said something about getting even.

“So you want me to be your Mami?” Rhea purred, her voice husky and full with a kind of cruel lust.  “Okay.  But what’s the point of being your Mami if I’m not going to have…”

“A BABY SHOWER!” The other women all cheered in unison.

“I’m sorry! I want out!” Dominik begged.

Rhea smirked and wagged her finger. “No take backs.”

“I don’t want this! I never wanted this!”  

Rhea gave a half hearted shrug. “Too bad.”

“I wasn’t asking to be a baby!”

“Nobody ever does.”

“Yeah, but I was trying to call you Mami in like…the sexy way!”

The room went silent.  “You know I have a boyfriend, right?” Rhea asked, hands on her hips. “That’s not the save you think it is.”

Dominik’s forehead broke out into a cold sweat.  “I’m sorry Mami!” He quivered. “I don’t know what I was talking about!” He laughed, nervously. “I’m just a baby!”  His self-debasement was rewarded with giggles all around.

Rhea leaned in so close that she could have bit off Dom’s nose.  “It’s okay, baby boy,” she said. “Mami knows.”  A wolfish grin flashed.  “Okay ladies,” she said standing up.  We’ve got ourselves our first baby shower game.  We’ve got our new baby!  He’s got a wet nappy! Who can guess how long he is?” 

 Snickers all around. 

 Rhea laughed too, but at the guests. “Babies can’t stand, you ninnies. It doesn’t make sense to guess how tall he is!”  Dom’s heart sank.  He couldn’t stand at present.  Not without being in agony.  Speaking of his gimmicked booties, his heart raced down to the soles of his feet when Rhea said.  “Winner gets to change him.”

“Oooooooooooooo!” The ladies all said, looking at one another mischievously. Dominik, of course, was far less enthused.  

“Phones away,” Rhea commanded. “Let’s do this right.”

Becky Lynch pocketed hers first. “No more pictures?”

“No more Googling!” 

Bailey smacked her forehead. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

The contenders stood shoulder to shoulder.  “We’re doing this Price Is Right style. Left to right, no copying. Closest gets the honor.”

Dominik wasn’t sure who, if anyone, he wanted to win. He watched them watching him, literally measuring him up, possibly trying to remember him standing in their minds’ eyes and comparing him.  Dominik shut his eyes and hoped for the least worst if not the best.

“Five foot ten.”

“Five eleven.”

“Twenty inches!” That got some surprised laughs.

“Not even close,” Rhea said, “but I like your commitment.”  She continued down the line.

“Six foot.”

“Six…two?”

“Six-one.”

“Five foot six.”  

Eyes still closed, Dominik suppressed a scowl.  He wasn’t Undertaker tall but he wasn’t that short! He almost said as much and then remembered he was stuck stewing in giant pissed-in pampers.

Alexa bit her lip. “Seventy…three…inches.”

“CORRECT!”

“Hey!” Carmella complained. “That’s the same as six foot one!”

Alexa stepped out of line and stuck her tongue out.  “Yeah,  but babies are measured in inches!”

Rhea shrugged and handed the diaper bag over to Alexa. “Woman’s got a point.’

“You probably don’t even know how to change a diaper!” Dakota jeered, playfully. 

Alexa took this as a cue. “It’s not that hard.” She skipped up to the side of the carriage and stopped parallel to Dominik’s thighs, putting his diaper area in easy reach. “First you unsnap the onesie.”  Her fingers plunged between Dominik’s spread legs and opened up the onesie one snap at a time.  “Then you shimmy it up past the baby’s belly button so you can get to the diaper.”

She roughly hiked it up past the diaper. Unlike with an actual baby, she gave his thighs little taps and prods and pinches, hinting that if Dominik knew what was good for him he’d help her.  Dominik lifted his legs into the air and boosted his hips as best he could so that Alexa could slide the onesie back up and over the smooth soft plastic on his bottom.

Dominik exhaled and lowered his legs back down. She dug around in the diaper bag for a moment. “You wanna make sure you have the fresh diaper and wipes and stuff already out before you open the diaper up.”  Her voice suddenly leapt up into a cutesy nasally pitch. “Don’t want our widdle Dom Dom to turn into a fountain and go wee-wee!”  

Oh gosh! She was narrating!  Saying everything out loud! Making his humiliation plain! Talking like he couldn’t understand what was going on!

Approving laughter paired side by side with Dom’s mortification.  “How am I doing, moms?” she asked in her normal speaking voice. There were polite nods and thumbs up from the women who’d had more experience with diapering.

Rhea interrupted her.  “Ladies, why are you standing so far away? Gather round, gather round!”

And so they did. They formed a perimeter.  Dominik was restrained, and penned in by bodies.  And none of them were paying overmuch attention to his face.

“Okay,” Alexa chirped. “Then you gotta take off the tapes.”

RRRRIP

RIIIIIP

RIP

RRRR-RRRR-IIIIIII-PP

From staccato to legato, each bit of sticky tape coming off the old diaper made him feel so much worse.  “Then you open up the diaper!”  Alexa reached forward and peeled back the front of his diaper, exposing his manhood to all.

 It was cold.  It was wet.  People were staring.  The diaper was so sodden and soggy that it practically oozed off.  The air conditioning was set on high.

Any and all of those reasons were reasons Dominik Mysterio gave himself for why he shivered so when exposed and why certain things may or may not have been as big as he imagined them to be.

Everyone was looking at him! Not AT him, but at him. Why were they staring? He didn’t have anything that they hadn’t seen before, right?  What were they whispering about all of a sudden?  They were are adults here, weren’t they?

Wasn’t he?

“He might be scared, so it’s important to talk to him,” Alexa continued her ‘lesson’.  “It’s okay Dom Dom.  I’m just gonna get you out of that icky wet diaper and clean you up so you’re nice and dry.”  She spoke in her cutesy, babying voice.  “Auntie Alexa will make it aaaaallll better.”

“Oooooooo!” The girls howled and pointed. “I think he likes it!”

To his unending shame, part of him was reacting to the baby talk and cooing in a decidedly non-babyish way.  With no pain in his bladder, his manhood was acting more receptive to the presence of so many beautiful women giving him their full and enthusiastic attention. Not even the coldness of the wipes being dragged and dabbed across his cock.

Alexa didn’t break character. “It’s okay. It’s natural.”  To her friends, she said “It’s not like he knows what to do with it anyway.  That bit of a barb relieved some pressure in a most unpleasant and unsatisfying way.

“You wipe the front first,” she said. She prodded him to lift his legs. “Then you wipe the bottom.  And you slip the old pee-pee diaper away and ball it up.”

Dominik did his best to cross his legs and hide his shame in the interim, to little effect.

“Then you take the fresh diaper and unfold it,” Alexa continued,  “and slip it on under the baby’s bum.  And set him down gently on it.”  Dominik sighed, ironically appreciating the difference in texture between the old and new diapers, yet screaming internally that he was in a state to be able tell the difference.

“Then you dust him off with some powder,” Alexa cooed. “Want the baby to smell cute and not like pee-pee.”  Dominik thought he heard an aside about how more of the men’s locker room needed to smell like baby powder.  “And then you just spread his legs, pull the diaper back up and tape everything back into place.”

Dominik laid there for a four-count, one for each tape. Then his hips were lifted, and his buttons re-snapped. “All done!”  The assembled tormentors all clapped and cheered politely 

“Very good job, Alexa,” Rhea praised, taking the diaper bag away from her cohort. “You’re a natural.”

Alexa did a mock bow and then said. “I couldn’t have done it without Dom Dom. He was such a good little baby, no crying at all!” 

Rhea beamed. “Good point. Newborns normally aren’t so cooperative.” Dominik felt his guts twist. Was he going to get punished for not putting up enough of a fight?  There was no winning with them!   “Maybe my baby Dom Dom is bigger than I expected…”

Dominik blinked.  Was he hearing her correctly? Was she giving him an out? A way to age up?

His ‘Mami’ seemed to confirm his hopes. “Who wants to see if the baby can crawl?”

Hands shot up all around, and jeering cries of “I do!” and “Me-me-me-me-me!” rang out.  

Rhea dug back into the diaper bag and produced the key. “Sounds like the me-me-mes have it.”  To Bailey she quietly said, “Set the cones up,” and circled round to Dominik’s bound wrists.  The key was the one that went to Dom’s handcuffs and not to the mittens and booties.  Freed from the former, he remained firmly imprisoned in the latter.  “Help him out ladies,” she ordered casually and strolled away. They were only too happy to oblige.

Hands descended on him, lifting him up out of the custom carriage by the arms until he was dangling from Becky and Liv’s shoulders like a scarecrow on posts.  Out of habit, he let himself be lowered down to his feet, and instantly regretted it.

“Ow ow ow ow!”  Yup! Just like stepping on a bunch of legos.  He couldn’t untangle himself fast enough so that his knees could buckle and he could sink all the way to the smooth ballroom floor.  

The comments came immediately

“Someone’s too little to walk.”

“Poor thing!”

“He can crawl, though!”

Hammering the hint home, Rhea had stopped her leisurely stroll across the room and parked herself but to what Dominik’s addled brain could best be described as a rainbow colored flying saucer crossed with a sex swing.  “Come on, baby!” she called all the way across the room. “Come to Mami!”  She hunched over and patted her knees, beckoning him like a dog…or a baby just learning to crawl.  

Might as well get this over with.

Teeth gritted, and head tilted down to the floor, Dominik crawled on hands and knees towards Rhea while eight other women taunted and attempted to humiliate him.

“Such a good baby!”

“Look at him crawling straight to his Mami!”

“Look at that little tush up in the air.”

“They are so cute at this age!”

This part? Right at this moment? This part was easy. Dominik had gotten used to playing the slimy heel.  Taunts and jeers could just roll off his back.  An individual’s scorn hurt way less than the mockery and derision of a crowd.  Outnumbered as he was and the center of attention, there were just enough overlapping voices for him to tune the entire thing out.  

Dom’s retreat inside himself lasted only as long as it took him to reach Rhea’s knees. He came to a stop, and stayed there, waiting for the next command, panting like a tired dog.  There’s a reason most people walked upright. Crawling actually required more coordination and effort. Twice the energy with only a quarter of the speed.  

Unable to sit back on his heels, Dominik looked up at his Mami and felt her presence as strongly as if she were stomping down on his spine.  “Good baby!” she pseudo-praised.  “Think you’re big enough to race?”

“Race?” Dominik said, uncertainly. “Against who?”  The idea of getting into a crawling match with someone sounded out of place.

Rhea took her phone back out and punched in a few buttons.  “Just the clock.”  She turned her phone around, now on a stopwatch countdown screen.  A mere forty-five seconds clocked in. “Let’s see how big you are.”

Hazing. This was hazing. Dominik knew it when he saw it.  It was twisted, but this was a test. Just a form of ‘paying his dues’.  But if it was, that meant there had to be a way out. Something to do to satisfy them so that he could get his dignity back.  “What do you I gotta do,  Mami?”

Pure satisfaction came to Rhea’s face. “Such a smart baby!” she ruffled the bonnet on his head.  “You’re Auntie Bailey has put little cones all around the room.”  She squatted down to Dominik’s eye level and pointed.  “See?”

Dominik followed Rhea’s finger and saw a little orange traffic cone, the kind used for kiddie soccer drills and the like.  “Yeah…”

“We’ve got a little track,”  Rhea told him.  “Like an obstacle course.”  Dominik scanned the room. He didn’t have an overhead view but he could tell the route was neither a straight line or a simple circle.  More of a baby Grand Prix than drag racing or NASCAR.  “If you crawl fast enough, it’ll prove you’re not really a newborn.”

“And if I don’t?”  He had to know the stakes. He just had to.

A wicked smile from Rhea gave Dominik chills. “Back in the carriage you go.”  

Dominik caught his breath.  Fuck.  This was going to suck.  What other choice did he have? Anything to get out of this ridiculous outfit.  Double or nothing it was.  “Okay. Let’s do it.”

Rhea stood back up.  “Alright then, Dom Dom,” she taunted.  “On your mark. Get set!”

WHAP! The smack on his bottom didn’t hurt anything save his pride. “GO!”

Dominik surged forward towards the first cone.

“Go, go, go, go, go!”  The girls cheered.  “You can do it Dom Dom! “

Carmella rushed to the second cone and waved like a first base coach at Little League. “Come on, baby! Come on this way! You can do it!”

Dom pumped his legs so hard he almost galoped.  Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!  Boney knees did not feel good coming down hard on solid ground again and again.  At least in the ring he got knee pads.

He rounded the next cone and crawl-sprinted for Nikki.  The others were ‘helping’. 

“TWENTY-FIVE SECONDS!”  Rhea boomed.

Shit!  Remaining or elapsed? Remaining or elapsed?!  Dom decided it didn’t matter.  He dug the balls of his feet and the tips of his toes into the floor, trying to get more traction. He instantly regretted.  Any weight across the bottom of his feet was punished.  He yelped and yowled in pain, lost his footing and planted face first onto the floor.

“Oooof! Poor baby!”

“Maybe he’s not ready to be a crawler!”

The taunts spurred him on.  He crawled forward, ignoring the building ache in his limbs. If shuffling his legs instead of picking them up fully off the ground affected his speed he couldn’t tell.

“Under the table! Under the table,” Bailey hinted.  

Dominik took a sharp right turn (as sharp as he could, considering) and barreled underneath one of the tables.  Sure enough, the next orange cone was right there.  Where was the next one?

“FIFTEEN SECONDS!”

“Go, go, go, go!”  He realized he was back near the carriage.  Everyone was pointing back towards Rhea. Back towards the sex-swing thing. “Go, baby, go!”

“TEN. NINE. EIGHT. SEVEN. SIX.” 

Dominik his toes underneath him one last time.  He pushed through the pain and dove forared.  “FIVE. FOUR. THREE.” 

He landed with a flop and kept skidding, his exposed flesh rubbing and practically squeaking against the floor.

‘TWO!”

Cheers went up when the top of Dominik’s head brushed Rhea’s ankles.  He’d done it! He’d done it!  He’d done it!  His heart thudded and his lungs heaved.  That was so much harder than it should have been, but he’d done it!

Finally, it was over.

The cheers reduced to a smattering of applause. “Good job, Dom Dom!” Rhea praised. “You really are big enough to crawl!  Do you know what that means?”

Still huffing, puffing, and wincing, Dominik pushed himself back up to all fours and nodded. Yes. That meant he didn’t have to get back into that stupid carriage.  It meant this torture was going to end.  

Dues paid.  Back to normal.

“That’s right,” Rhea said. “Iiiiiit’s play time!”
*******************************************************************************************
Hope spot…

Two hours later and the ‘fun’ had yet to stop.

“Yee Haw!” the girls clapped, hooted and hollered.  

“Ride ‘em cowboy!”

“Get ‘em, Dom Dom!”

Now even Carmella and Dakota were calling him by that stupid nickname.

Dominik sat on an adult sized rocking horse, dressed like Woody from Toy Story, sans the pants.  A comically tiny cowboy hat strapped around his chin, one hand holding useless reins that didn’t go anywhere, the other one shaking a rattle.   

The ladies sat around him in a semicircle on chairs, munching on cake, sarcastically cheering him on like he was some kind of Chip N Dale’s dancer despite how utterly ridiculous he looked.  His diaper crinkled beneath him with every back and forth motion he made, reminding him about his status; recent memory a testament that it could always get worse.

Not much longer. Not much longer.  Couldn’t be.

“Yippee Kai Yay!”

He’d been good.  He’d been so good.  Had no other choice.  He couldn’t walk. He couldn’t run.  They’d let him take the mittens off, but his legs were still fundamentally useless.   No chance for escape.  The only option was for him to be the girls’ baby doll; to dress in silly costumes and to play silly games for their amusement.

They’d made him wear a custom bib while guessing baby food flavors. The words ‘BIG BABY DOM DOM’ were stitched on it.

They’d put a faux graduation cap and those drunk goggles on his head for a ‘story time’ in which he couldn’t read.

Besides dress up time and other things to ‘prove’ what an incapable baby he was, Rhea and the others had forced him to play with all sorts of baby toys:  He’d stacked blocks while on his knees, wearing a plastic hard hat.  They’d put conductor’s overalls on him and made him crawl around on all fours, pushing toy trains on a wooden track.  Every time he thought it was over, it just got a little bit worse.  Every outfit swap caused him to  hope against hope that Rhea would at least pause this torment.  It only escalated. 

  He didn’t try to escape.  Not once. No point. He had nowhere to go, and most of the time couldn’t have passed as anything other than a side-show comedy act. To add to his discomfort, his bladder was starting to rage again.  Rhea was very ‘good’ about keeping him hydrated.  Every play activity was punctuated with bottle feeding- gatorade, water, juice- to keep him well hydrated.

One might think that the feeling of a full bladder wouldn’t have bothered him after literally pissing himself earlier, but that just made it worse.  He’d done it once.  A little voice in the back of his brain assured him that he could do it again.  The hardest part about not thinking about something is that it’s impossible to consciously do.  In trying not to pee his pants a second time, his bladder became the near sole focus of his attention. And every obnoxiously loud crinkle with every micro movement sounded like the ticking of a clock.

It wouldn’t be long now.

One way or another the torment would be done. 

The joke had reached its natural limits.

Just a few more imaginary laps on the rocking horse.  It was the last toy he’d yet to play with as far as he could tell. Just a few more gliding galloping strides on a toy meant for literal babies and their fun would be done.  The rocking horse was the last monstrous yet infantile contraption left. Every other humiliation had been exhausted.

Almost.

A hand reached up took Dom by the wrist, rousing him from his trance. He looked down at Rhea, seeing what he swore was some kind of mercy in her eyes.  “Okay,” she said. “I think that’s enough.  You’ve been a very good baby.”  She held her arms open, signaling for him to fall into her.  He did, easy as pie.  “You’ve had enough playtime.”

The proceeding sigh was palpable.  So much cringing and wincing and muffled groans of torment.  Laying there in her arms, Dominik let every muscle in his body finally relax…

…until he was carted back to the sex swing.  Oh yeah.  He’d forgotten about that.  He was shifted over the rim of the flying saucer sex-swing. Another custom job, no doubt, but for the life of him Dominik still couldn’t figure out what it was supposed to be.  The saucer section was bright green, with a thick cloth bucket seat in the center.  His bootied feet and bare legs were threaded through until he slipped right off of Rhea and was suspended inside it by heavy duty bungee cords.

Ow!

Ow!

Ow!

The contraption held his weight, but just barely.  If he wasn’t careful, he ended up putting too much force on the soles of his feet and it became lego city all over again. Damn. Not quite over.  He was so tired, so blown up, but he still couldn’t rest.

Bailey and Alexa ambushed him and reapplied the blunted mittens.  Whatever bit of awful awaited him wouldn’t require his hands. They took the cowboy vest and tiny hat with them.  The only things on his body were the diaper and mittens.

“There we go,” Rhea said, when they were done.  “Time to cool off. Baby Dom Dom is all safe in his bouncer!”

Dom’s eyes widened not with pain but recognition.  That’s what this contraption was!  He hadn’t thought such a thing could exist so it didn’t even occur to him.  But now that she’d called a spade a spade, Dom couldn’t think of it as anything else.  He was trapped in a giant bouncer.  This had to be the last bit. It just had to be!

“Ladies,” Rhea said.  “Dom Dom has had a lot of fun playing with his toys, but as you know, the most important and practical part of a baby shower is getting outfits for the little guy so that he’s not running around starkers all day.” She gestured to the all-but naked Dom as an example. That was meant with knowing laughter.

Too bad he wasn’t actually naked. Being naked sounded better than how he presently was.

“So go on,” Rhea said. “Show him his presents, Aunties.”

Two boxes, different in size but identically wrapped, were placed in front of him.  “Go on, Dom Dom.  Rip it up!”  

Dom tried, but the mittens locked to his wrists only let him pound at the flimsy cardboard beneath the wrapping paper.  Maybe he could wedge the box between his balled up fists and tear at the wrapping paper with his teeth…

“Here,” Becky said, snatching the first box away. “I’ll help.”  Having access to one’s

“What do you say, baby?”

Dominik sighed in frustration.  “Thank you, Aunt Becky.”

His frustration turned to confusion and momentary elation when he saw what was inside.  Crisp white sneakers with a powder blue stripe running down the side, the word ‘JORDAN’ etched out in white.

  “Someone’s got new shoooooes!”

Dominik was so excited, he peed a little without realizing it!  These were practically the exact opposite of what was on his feet at present.  Fantasy scenes of him playing basketball in the gym or just walking around from place to place showing off. Shoes like these were too good to do actual work in.  “Thank-!”  The wrapping paper from the second box came off before Dominik was able to express his sincere appreciation. “-you?”

The new Jordan Team Showcases went perfectly with the powder blue sailor suit and matching cap. “He’s gonna look so cute in these!”

Dominik’s excitement plummeted. Something that would have added to his sense of success and adulthood was being paired with to enhance appearing like an overgrown toddler (at best).  Adding peanut butter to a shit sandwich did not enhance the sandwich; it only ruined perfectly good peanut butter.

“What do you say, Dom Dom?”

A dejected sigh. “Thank you, Aunt Becky.”

Becky reached out and pinched the side of Dominik’s face so hard that it might as well have been a submission hold.  “You’re welcome Dom Dom!” she laughed.

And so the parade continued.  The Jordan 6 Retros paired wonderfully well with matching pin stripe shortalls-complete with snappies in the crotch, the chalk vector blue Reeboks paired with similarly red white and blue romper with a drop seat in the back of it, and so on and so forth.  The vintage Eddie Gurrero T-Shirt was an extra slap in the face.  Merch typically sold long and baggy, but this one had been hemmed so that it would stop at the very top of Domonik’s diapers.

Oh god…Dominik hadn’t thought of that.  They didn’t expect him to actually wear all this stuff, did they?

“Wussa-matta, Dom Dom?” Rhea warned him.  “Do you not like your presents?”

“Babies don’t care about clothes,” Bailey reminded them. “Little boys are all about their toys.”

“Is that it?” Alex asked. “Do you want to keep playing with your toys?”

“I think he does,” Rhea said. She slithered back up to him, trapped in the bouncer, and asked. “Are you ready to keep playing in just your booties and nappies?  Tired of clothes already?  Do you wanna keep playing in just your booties and nappies?  Or is my widdle guy getting sleepy? Is it nap time?”

Every person comes to a point where they reach the level of their patience. Dominik Mysterio had just reached his.  Low and slow, he growled.  “I’m. Not. A. Baby.”

“What was that, Dom Dom?”  Rhea asked, leaning in and putting her hand to her ear.  “I couldn’t quite hear you.  

“I’M NOT A BABY!”  

“Oooooooooooooooooo!”  The party suddenly transformed into a highschool confrontation.

Behind her placid expression, Rhea’s eyes were on fire. “Oh really? Mister-Crawls-Around- Everywhere.  You think you’re a big boy all of a sudden? Think you’re a man?”

“You’re making me crawl around!’ Dominik spat.  “It’s bullshit!”

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

Rhea crossed her arms in front of her.  “Someone’s got a potty mouth. Too bad he can’t hold it in long enough to go to the potty.”

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

The young man’s face heated up like his diaper had hours before. “That was an accident-”

“That is what they call them, yes.”

“I’d been drinking all night and you wouldn’t let me go before you put this thing on me!”

Rhea smirked. “That wasn’t the one I put on you. That’s the one Auntie Alexa put on you.”

“You know what I mean, you…you…” Dom stopped himself. “YOU!” Sulking, afraid, yet stubbornly prideful, Dom held his tongue but looked away.

“Alexa,” Rhea said without turning her head, “get the paddle.”

No reply from the peanuts gallery.

Five seconds later, Rhea was standing in front of a suspended Dom, a large wooden paddle in her hand, the kind famously seen in every fraternity hazing ritual put to film.

“Mister Potty Mouth,” Rhea said. “You’ve earned yourself ten swats.” She patted the paddle in the palm of her hand.  “If you’re as big as you say you are, you’ll take them like a man. No crying. No screaming. No fussing. No using your nappy.”

“If I prove you wrong, I get out?” Dominik asked. “This baby stuff stops?”

“Yup.  Full big boy status.”

“Adult,” Dominik corrected her. “Adult status.  No pull-ups. No making me sit on a potty chair. No cartoon underwear.  Nothing like that. This just stops.”

The onlookers exchanged concerned looks.  They weren’t ready for the fun to end just yet.

“Deal,” Rhea said.  “But if you mess up even once…I’m proven right and the fun continues.”

Dominik took a deep breath.  “Deal.”

The ring was removed from the bouncer rig.  No more toys. No more whimsy. No more pretense.  Several of the ladies helped each other to hoist and tighten the rigging.  Dominik was left dangling; a puppet on a string; a flesh pinata; a hanged man.

“Ten swings,” Rhea repeated. ”No crying. No screaming. No accidents.”

Dominik nodded.

WHACK!

The first swing came hard and fast, contacting Dominik without warning or waiting for him to brace.

“One!”

Dom didn’t so much as flinch.  

WHACK!

“Two!”

Rhea had made a grave miscalculation.  The bulk of the diaper was acting as a shield against the full force and sting of the paddle.  One humiliation device was countering another.  And the harness was wrapped around Dominik’s ass, adding a second layer of protection and making it so the diaper couldn’t be removed.

Rhea had played herself.

WHACK!

Dom winced and squinted in pain.  Rhea had realized her predicament and swung lower.  Dom’s bottom was protected.  His thighs not so much.

“THREE!”

WHACK!

“WOOOOOOOOOOO!” The gathered spectators cheered.

“FOUR!”

WHACK! WHACK!

Five and six rapidly followed.   Dominik gritted his teeth and held his breath.  FUCK! On top of his emotional and physical exhaustion, this was legitimately hurting.  He paused a second to exhale.  He wasn’t going to lose by groaning. He wasn’t going to give them any pretense that he’d cried or screamed liek a baby.

Then nothing.

Had he lost count?

Was it over!

WHACK!

“SEVEN!”

Rhea was just taking her time.  Letting the pain set in and the bruising start to take effect.  Damn but it hurt worse!  Dominik slammed his eyes shut, just in case tears threatened.

WHACK!

“EIGHT”

WHACK!

“NINE!”

Breathing shallow. Blood pumping.  Muscles braced. Only one more to go. One more swat and he was home fr-

“I know what my Dom Dom needs!” Rhea chirped.  From behind, she leaned in and whispered breathily into his ear. “He just needs….TIKI-TIKI-TIKI-TIKI-TIKI-TIKI-TIKI!”  Her fingers pressed into his stomach, jabbing into his ribs, poking and stabbing into his armpits. 

Dominik’s eyes lit up in surprise.“N-!” his voice caught in his throat. His poor aching bladder!  He hadn’t been paying attention to his bladder! He’d been so busy trying to regulate and tune out the outer pain, that the looming threat from in hadn’t occurred to him.

Just like a baby.

He’d been so emotionally overwhelmed and worn down that he’d let his guard down in other areas.  Combined with the tickling, his bladder was only too happy to open fire directly into his awaiting undergarments.

  Warmth exploded between his legs, piss splashing up against his privates and being quickly wicked away by thirsty pulp and cotton. The blood drained out of Dominik’s face while practically everything else flooded into his diaper.  The diaper expanded around him, subtly swelling like a sponge. The warmth dripped down from his front down between his legs while the river of pee made its way to his taint. Within seconds, the very bottom of his  cheeks were squishing in the formerly crisp and crinkling diaper.

“Dom?” Rhea asked, playfully.  “Dom Dom?  What’s wrong sweetie?  Did you forget how to laugh?”

Standing directly in front of Dominik, Nikki smirked.  “Nope,” she announced.”He just needs another change. He’s wet. Again.” 

“What?”

“Really?”

“Seriously?”

““Gosh!”

“Oh my, fu- hahahahaah!”

“Hahahahahahahahahaha!”

No amount of training or getting used to people making fun of him could have prepared Dominik for the reaction. A few giggled behind their hands, embarrassed for him and of him.  Others grinned and gushed like he’d done something adorable.  Rhea just nodded proudly and smirked, calm, but victorious.  Dom had no happy place he could retreat to.

“Awwww poor baby!” Rhea went on mockingly. as if a grown man pissing himself was perfectly.  “Looks like he couldn’t hold it in like a big boy after all.  He only had one more spanking to go!”

“NO!” Dominik erupted.  His throat rattled. His tears burst forth. “NO!” He flailed helplessly.  “That’s cheating! You cheated!”

Rhea walked around to look the tantruming man directly in the eye. “Never said it could only be swats,” she taunted.  “Did I?”

Cheating! Winning on a technicality! Such full and utter bullshit!  But there was little Dominik could do about it.  He’d been fooled again. He was the one sitting in a soaked pampers. He was the one crying like a spanked two year old.  “Mamiiiii!” he begged. “P-p-p-please!”

“Please what, Dom Dom?”

“Please change me!”

Rhea slipped two fingers past the leg cuffs of his diaper.  “You’re not that wet.” she said. “I think you can squish around in your nappy a little more without having to worry about a rash.”

“NOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

She dug into the diaper bag and wiped her fingers.  “You’ve got so many gifts left, Dom Dom.  Don’t you want to see them?  Play with them a little? They’re alllll for you!”

“NOOOOOOOOOO!” Dominik was beyond words by this point. He slammed his mittened fists on the front of his thighs. Pounded his chest like King Kong. Thrashed and kicked his useless legs in the air, not even close to hitting anything.

All that frustration and embarrassment had bubbled over in him and he was finally acting the part he was dressed as: Sitting in a squishy wet diaper, pounding his fists and kicking his feet impotently, and crying.  Honestly, crying!  Tears and bawling and shouting. A full on meltdown.

“Alright,” Rhea said. “That’s enough of that.”  A pacifier was shoved into his mouth.  Dom lacked the presence of mind so completely that he didn’t think to spit it out before it was too late.  She grabbed the front ring on the pacifier and twisted it one-hundred and eight degrees.

A noticeable click. The hissing sound of a balloon filling up. The pacifier inflated so quickly that it threatened to choke him. His jaw was forced open as the bulb pressed up against the roof of his mouth and smashed his tongue back down.  He was gagged, powerless to remove the inflated balloon from out of his mouth, but all outward appearances, he might as well have been a tiny taught suckling on his favorite binky

“Mmmmm! Mmmmmm! Mmmmmmph!”

“Muuuuuch better,” Rhea said, tickling Dom under his chin.  “Now Dom,” she said. “If you’re a good boy and play nice, Mami will change you out of that icky wet diaper.  How does that sound?”

What else could Dom say? That is, what could he do?  He nodded and accepted his fate.
**************************************************************************************
Promo…

Rhea, Bailey, and Alexa all clinked shot glasses and tossed back the tequila. The real stuff this time, not the watered down placebo meant to trick suckers into unwinnable drinking contests.  

Tonight was not about planning and plotting, but about celebration! Mission accomplished. They’d put a little boy in his place and had more than enough photos to prove it should he ever need a reminder.

Shot glasses in one hand and phones in the other, the ladies flipped through all of the pictures they’d taken that day.

After his defeat and humiliation, they’d forced him to try on all of the outfits, one after the other, and paraded him up and down the line of applauding women pinching his cheeks and tickling at the back of his knees or giving tiny swats to his pillow pants bottom.  

“So handsome.”

“A real lady killer”

“So mature for his age.”

He hadn’t even been allowed to dress himself.  Bailey, or Alexa, or one of the others had made sure to strip him and dress him over half a dozen times before having him walk around again and get teased.  

Each time, there was a moment where he was left in nothing but the soaking, sagging diaper with the alphabet block font on it.  Each time, the only comfort he was given was another something to cover up the discolored crinkling mass and an assurance that he was an adorable baby boy who didn’t need to worry about such things.  

After the play clothes, came the dress clothes, culminating in Dom sitting in Rhea’s lap in front of a green screen for a mock family portrait.  They gave him nothing but a button up shirt, a clip on bow tie and a colorful rainbow beanie- propeller top included. Rhea obscured the sorry state of his underwear by wrapping her arm around his waist, and cupping his crotch with the palm of her hand. 

Dom had no clue as to what would eventually be digitally added to the green screen in post. Rhea hadn’t decided yet.  It might have been kind of funny to photoshop a wrestling ring, but she banished the thought.  Why mix work and play? She was more than just a wrestler.

“Well done, ladies,” Rhea said.  “Well done. Mission successful.”

“That was fun,” Bailey said. “Did you see the look on his face?  Paid him back so bad!”

Alexa giggled. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he enjoyed some of it.”

“More than some!”  Bailey guffawed.  “I think this was a treat for him as much as it was for us.”

“For all the money we sunk into it, it better be.” Alexa said.

“Yeah…”  Rhea said. “Rented a lot of stuff for this.”  Furniture. Toys. Props.  Stuff that wasn’t exactly easy or practical to transport.   Too bad it was over.

Alexa must have had some of the weird powers she sometimes pretended to have on camera.  “Hey, don’t get so down.  We’ve still got a day or two before the big show and getting back on the road.  The party isn’t over yet.”

“Gonna suck to have to give it all back, though.” Bailey sympathized.

“Not like we can give the shoes back,” Rhea grumbled.  “Or the clothes.  Or the nappies.”

“Yeah,” Alexa agreed. “Do you think he’s gonna use all those diapers in just a few days? I feel like we bought way too many.”  

That was true.  They’d bought enough to last a real baby a week or two, maybe longer. With as absorbent as they were, a single pack would have taken up most of a weekend with a couple to spare. 

A terrible twinkle came into Rhea’s eyes.  “Probably not.”  She poured herself another shot.  “Guess that means we won’t waste them.”

If her timing had been just a little more on, her companions would have sprayed burning mist in her face from laughing too hard.  “Rhea, no!”

“No, Rhea!”

Their giddy grins said they were thinking the opposite of what they were saying.  

“I’m not saying he’s going to have to wear them on camera,” Rhea mused. “But how many minutes do we have on T.V. a week anyways?”

“And he was very well behaved with that special paci…”  Bailey added.

Alexa tacked on, “And he did look awfully cute in some of those clothes….”

Rhea finished the thought.  “Maybe we should just see where this goes. To Mami-hood?”

All of three of them could drink to that.  So they did.

“TO MAMI-HOOD!”

**********************************************************************************
Finish…

Dominik laid wide awake in his crib, listening to the baby monitor.  He was keenly aware of everything the girls were saying about today, and about him specifically.  Accidentally or not, they’d switched the end with the microphone up, letting him suffer in silence while they congratulated themselves, mocked, and made plans for him.

He shut his eyes, and rolled over, slamming a pillow on his head. The gentle hiss still filled his ears as his bladder finally relaxed and filled his diaper back up.  At least he could go to sleep with an empty bladder.

“Let me go check on him,” the monitor broadcast Rhea’s words.

Dominik rolled over, pretending to be asleep.  He heard the door open. “Come on Dom-Dom,” she coaxed. “Let’s get you changed.”

“Mmmmph?”   Dominik mumbled from behind the pacifier.  He rolled over and saw the cutesy cage he was in being opened up.

“I’m not gonna let you go to sleep in a wet nappy. That wouldn’t be proper, would it?”  She opened her arms, and he obediently crawled into them, supporting himself so he was easier to carry.

Rhea let out a low groan, more out of tiredness than pain. Dominik was still a fully grown twenty six year old man, but Rhea was well…Rhea.   It was the kind of tired grunt his mother used to make when carting around his little sister; back when she was old enough to walk but still liked being carried.  He half expected Rhea to say ‘You’re getting heavy!’

 She transported him back over to the changing table.  He didn’t struggle while she secured him to the changing table.  He wasn’t getting out of this house.  At least he could get out of this diaper.  So much for dignity.

Rhea quietly ripped the tapes off his diaper and started to cleanse him without comment.  There was something oddly nice about that.  In another circumstance could be almost sensual instead of mortifying.

“This will feel so much better,” Rhea commented. “Babies love having their nappies changed, don’t they?”

Dominik tried nothing, not even mumbling through the gag they’d left in.

“Legs up,” Rhea commanded.   Dominik did so without thinking.  He grimaced behind his pacifier as the wipes made their way to his buttocks and between his cheeks.  “Front to back, you got soaked Dom Dom! Someone was about to leak!”  It almost sounded like a compliment.

Almost.

Something resembling relief lit up in Dominik when the fresh diaper was unfolded and slipped underneath him.  “Legs down.”  His impatience only grew with the sprinkling of baby powder all over his groin.  He’d hate to admit it, but it did feel good.

Finally (finally), the new diaper was pulled up and secured snugly around his waist.  Rhea patted the front of the diaper lightly.  “There we go. All done.”  She reached forward and grabbed Dom’s pacifier and gave it a click.  

“Thank God,” Dominik whispered to himself when the balloon deflated and his mouth was finally free of the torturous device.  For a while he’d almost started thinking of himself as a cuter version of that one guy from Pulp-Fiction.  Just with less leather and more plastic. (Where’d he go to the bathroom, anyway?)

“I’m so proud of you,” Rhea teased. “Such a good baby!” Dom was too tired to think anything of it. 

What did catch his attention was when she boosted herself up onto the changing table, and readjusted Dominik so his head was in her lap.  “So…” she said, pushing her shirt up to just below her breasts. “...I think you’ve earned yourself a little reward, don’t you?”

Dominik’s heart started beating faster.  His mouth began to water.  The inside of his fresh diaper felt just a little bit tighter.  Was this really happening?  Maybe it was! She’d gone full tilt in pretty much every other aspect of this charade.  Why not breastfeeding?

“Yes…”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes…Mami?”

“Good baby!”

He closed his eyes, opened his mouth, puckered his lips, and latched onto the rubber nipple of yet another massive baby bottle.  Full of milk. Squirting down his throat.

 “You didn’t think it was going to be that easy, did you?” Rhea asked, winking maliciously.

For a second? Yeah, he really did.

(The End)