Twister

[dlgore]

I love this story.   Can’t wait till someone is in the new nursery in his a cute dress 

 

[D503]

Oh, a chastity device might be on its way.

[tammie2]

16.

            The next several days passed without any major incidents. Angie’s plan to have Jamie gradually grow accustomed to their presence while he sat on the potty chair seemed to be working and as a result the time he spent in the living room with children’s programming on the television was diminishing. On the negative side, his panties continued to be damp at the end of each day and occasionally contained a nasty streak in the rear, leaving Angie to wonder if they needed to introduce more intricate lessons on wiping. Millie’s baby fever seemed to intensify, which she sated by spending part of each day daydreaming in the nursery. She was delighted when Angie asked her to order more bibs for Jamie, as he rarely got through a meal without spills.

            Millie was tying on one of the new bibs at breakfast when she caught Angie shaking her head in amusement. It was lined in pink with a large applique of a diaper pin and the phrase “Mommy’s Girl.” Jamie never paid attention to what was on the bibs, instead pretending that he wasn’t wearing one at all, and Millie took care to launder them herself. She knew she’d get away with this.

            Jamie was lost in his own thoughts when Angie called for his attention. “We have an appointment at the doctor this morning,” she told him, “to see if she can get to the cause of your habitual bedwetting. It’s something you really should have done yourself a long time ago to make sure that there’s not some serious health concern behind it. After your shower please take extra care with your makeup and put on something pretty. I like that dress with the giraffe on the bodice.”

            Jamie froze with a spoonful of fruit halfway to his mouth, which then dropped onto his bib. “Can’t I just wear my jeans and a shirt?”

            “No dear, because they won’t fit over your diaper. It’s a bit of a drive and we don’t know how long we’ll need to wait once we get there. I can’t let you use the little boy’s room on your own and I don’t think they’ll want a young man in the girl’s bathroom. Don’t worry, I’ll bring a change in case you need it.”

            There was something in Angie’s tone that indicated she wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. Jamie knew not to protest. He considered telling the truth about the origins of his nighttime wetting but rightly assumed he’s get in serious trouble for revealing it started out as a voluntary thing and for not opening up about it earlier.

            “I’ll help with your makeup,” Millie inserted. “To save you from embarrassment, it would be a good idea to make you look like a young girl so that no one suspects who you really are and that you’re having this issue as an adult. They might be more understanding of an older child who wets her bed.”

            An hour later, an incredulous Angie watched as a girl of no more than nine years old descended the stairs. Millie had done a phenomenal job making her facial skin tone as smooth and youthful as it could be, adding rosy cheeks and just a touch of pink lipstick. Jamie’s hair was parted in the middle into pigtails secured with mermaid hair ties. The dress Angie had requested was the most juvenile outfit Jamie owned. It was also short enough that the thick diaper with stuffer and yellow plastic panties peeked out from beneath. Angie smiled to herself. Maybe she had a mild case of baby fever herself.

            “You look lovely, dear,” Angie told him, and she meant it. She grabbed her purse, took Jamie by the hand, and led him out to the car. She had already wedged a loaded diaper bag out of sight behind the passenger seat. By the time Jamie saw her retrieve it in the physician’s parking lot, he’d be much less likely to balk at its presence.

            They drove in silence. Every so often Angie snuck glances at Jamie out of the side of her eye. I wonder, she thought, if we could make him look even younger. A toddler’s dress, have him hold a stuffie and a baby bottle, add some tights and booties. His height would give him away, but if they had him sit in a playpen and angled the camera right...Angie shook the thought from her mind. Was she considering it as a sort of academic challenge simply to see if it could be done, or was she seriously wanting to regress Jamie, even if just for a short time? Was Millie’s obsession rubbing off on her?

            Jamie, in the meantime, was wondering what he needed to do to pass himself off as a pre-pubescent girl. Millie did have a point. It would be incredibly embarrassing to go as his proper age only to have his diaper accidentally exposed, or what if the receptionist asked Angie the purpose of their visit, forcing her to answer out loud? It could still happen dressed as he is, but as Millie suggested other patients would be more understanding, even sympathetic, if they thought he was a young child. On the other hand, if his true gender and age were revealed while he was in a dress and diaper? There’s no word in the English language to express how humiliating that would be. He had to try to pass.

            Jamie had another pressing issue on his mind as well. He’d become so used to relying on the two women to take the initiative to bring him to the potty that he no longer listened to his body as to when he needed to pee. With all the fuss and activity of getting him presentable before leaving for the doctor, he couldn’t remember if he’d been taken to the potty. He didn’t think so, and the ache in his bladder confirmed his opinion. He knew he’d never be able to hold it until they got home, but maybe he could avoid wetting himself until after his appointment.

            Just then, a large truck cut Angie off, causing her to brake suddenly and swerve, yelling at Jamie to hold on. She managed to avoid being run off the road and soon was back on track with no damage done outside of her racing heart. Jamie, however, was not so lucky. His full bladder was no longer a concern. Angie noticed his dismay and could detect the odor of his accident.

            “Don’t worry, Jamie. I’ll change you as soon as we get into the examination room,” she said. “We’ll be there in about ten minutes.”

            The ten minutes passed all too quickly for Jamie. As squishy as his diaper was, he still had to run the gauntlet of the waiting room trying to pass as a girl. He waited outside the car as Angie retrieved something from the back seat.

            “A diaper bag?” he cried. “Everybody will see! Can you please leave it in the car?”

            “Yes, a diaper bag,” Angie snarled. “With clean, dry diapers in it for little girls who can’t keep their panties dry and need to wear protection just like a baby. Do you want to get changed out of that soggy, smelly thing or not? Before you answer, consider this. Infants don’t mind sitting in their messes while toddlers and older children ready for toilet training who want to be big kids can’t wait to get clean britches.”

            “Okay, fine,” Jamie muttered. “Let’s get this over with.”

            “Good girl,” Angie said. “Now if I were you I’d remain quiet and let me do all of the talking.”

            They entered the building, rose three flights in the elevator, and moved down the hall. On the way they encountered several women who smiled as they passed, pushing Jamie into a panic. “They’re just smiling at a pretty girl,” Angie told him.

            When they reached a door at the end of the hall, Jamie stopped cold. A pediatrician? Angie had already started to enter the office so he kept his mouth shut, but that didn’t stop him from throwing Angie a dirty look. She immediately knew why.

            “Who else has expertise with your particular problem?” she said in her normal tone of voice, drawing the attention of several other people sitting around the room. “Now have a seat and try to stay still while Mommy checks in.” Jamie scanned the crowded waiting room. The only area with two open chairs together was next to a mother with a bawling toddler. Jamie reluctantly took a seat.

            With all of the talking, screaming, and wailing from the other children, most of whom were still too young for school, Jamie couldn’t hear the exchange between Angie and the receptionist. He did see the woman look confused, ask a question, then lean over to peer down in Jamie’s direction. He wanted to shrink into his seat.

            In the meantime, the mother next to him was trying to calm her child. She sniffed the air, pulled back the front of his diaper, and sniffed again. “That’s odd, Johnny,” she told the unhappy boy. “I know I smell pee.” She proceeded to pull his shorts down to his ankles, putting a finger inside the diaper both in front and in the rear.” Baffled, she turned her attention to Jamie just as Angie sat beside him.

            “I’m sorry,” Angie told the woman. “Does the smell bother you? I could take her to the ladies’ room for a change.”

            “Oh no, not at all. I thought it coming from this little stinker and was confused when he still felt dry. I don’t mean to be rude, but isn’t she a little old...”

            “For diapers?” Angie interrupted. “That’s what I keep telling her, but she’s stubborn, and diapers are easier than cleaning up puddles and piles all day.”

            Before the woman could respond, her son’s name was called and with a sympathetic look back at Angie she carried her son to the front and followed the nurse into the back rooms. Jamie was furious.

            “Unless your attitude improves, young lady,” Angie whispered, “this is how I’ll act. Do you understand?”

            Jamie nodded and sat back in his chair with his eyes closed. He didn’t want to know how many people had heard the exchange with the toddler’s mother and was convinced everyone was staring at him. He was drifting off when Angie shook his shoulder.

            “That’s us,” she said. “Time to go see the nice doctor, Miss Piddlepants.”

            Jamie followed behind Angie and the nurse, an attractive brunette who looked to be about Jamie’s true age. They entered an exam room with baby animal stickers on the walls, brochures on breastfeeding and diaper rash on a table, and the faint scent of dirty diapers in the air. Jamie hung back by the door before being approached by the nurse.

            “No need to be scared, sweetie,” she said in a tone reserved for children. “I’m Nurse Amanda. I need you to come with me over here where we can measure your height and weight.” Jamie did as he was asked, stepping onto the scale.

            “All done,” the nurse said sweetly. She turned to Angie. “Please strip her down to her diaper and have her lie down on the exam table. The doctor will be right in.”

            As the nurse closed the door behind her, Angie moved to stand in front of Jamie. “You heard her. Arms up.” Angie pulled the dress up over his head. No training bra today, she noted, which made sense given the age at which Jamie was presenting. She had Jamie sit on the edge of the exam table to remove his shoes and socks, then put all the clothing in a neat pile on a nearby chair.

            “You really did a number on your diaper,” she said. “Let’s get you changed before the doctor gets here.”

            Jamie laid back on the table while Angie picked up the diaper bag. She had just untaped his diaper when the door flew open and a tall woman in a lab coat breezed in.

            “Angie!” she said pleasantly. “It’s been awhile. I think the last time was almost a year ago, that little red-headed boy with colic. Usually the children you bring me are newborns or slightly older babies.” She glanced in Jamie’s direction. “This looks like something different.”

            “It’s good to see you again, Dr. Evans,” Angie replied. “Yes, this is Jamie, although she likes to be called Jenny. Without going into too much detail she was essentially left on my doorstep—legally—about ten days ago. She seems healthy but has wet the bed every night so I thought we should have her checked.”

            “I see. Well let’s take a look, shall we?” Dr. Evans moved to the side of the exam table, where Jamie remained lying in a prone position. “Jenny, I’m Doctor Evans and I’m going to take a quick look at your body. Nothing I do will hurt, but if you get scared or nervous you let me know, okay? But first I need to do a few things to make sure that you don’t fall off the table. Dr. Evans reached across Jamie’s body and pulled a wide Velcro strap across his midsection, fastening it to an identical strap on the opposite side. She then gently lifted his left leg, securing it in a stirrup rising up out of the end of the table, followed by his right leg. Jamie shifted uncomfortably, the bottom of his butt lifted slightly off the table.

            Dr. Evans took out a stethoscope and pressed it against Jamie’s chest in multiple locations before putting on latex gloves and moving her hands over his stomach and chest, prodding, poking, and cupping him. 

            “Nine years old you think? That would explain the lack of breast tissue. I realize she’s young, but do you know if she’s started her menses?”

            Angie stuttered out a reply in the negative, then watched as Dr. Evans moved down the table and began to lower the front of Jamie’s diaper. “Um, Doctor, there’s something you should know.”

            By then the secret had been revealed anyway. Dr. Evans let out a low whistle. “I assume this is what you were about to tell me. Would you care to explain?” As she spoke, the doctor cupped Jamie’s ball sack and lifted his penis, manipulating it in various directions. As mortified as Jamie was, he felt himself responding.

            “We don’t know much about her...his...background, but she arrived in a dress with a couple of other girl’s clothing items. I haven’t been able to get much out of her because she’s easily traumatized, but it appears that whoever was taking care of her was upset that she didn’t accept her role as a boy and decided to dump her. Millie and I have been trying to accept her as the girl she wants to be.”

            “I see,” the doctor replied. “Well her testes and penis aren’t fully developed yet, and are about the same size as what I see on a typical four-year-old, but based on her height and the fact that she got a soft erection for a couple of seconds when I handled her down there I think she’s around 11 or maybe even 12 and just grossly underdeveloped. Let me try something.”

            Dr. Evans squeezed a large glob of lubricant on the fingers of one hand and gently began to insert one finger into his anus, moving it in and out slowly. After a time, she put a second finger in, then slid them deep inside. The two women watched as Jamie’s penis began to grow and a few droplets of liquid dripped from its end. Dr. Evans withdrew her fingers and discarded the glove.

            “Just as I thought. I massaged her prostate to see if her body was producing seminal fluid, and while there wasn’t much it was definitely there. She’s beginning puberty, but barely. I’d put her age at around 10 ½ to 11.”

            As she was speaking, Jamie let out a squeak and a recognizable odor soon filled the air. “Natural reaction, it happens all the time,” Dr. Evans told Angie. “I assume she generally has control of her bowels? And is daytime wetting an issue?” She noticed Jamie blushing. “Perhaps we should continue this conversation in my office.”

            Dr. Evans peeked her head out of the door and summoned the nurse who’d been with Jamie earlier. “Nurse, would you please change Jenny here into a clean diaper and help her get dressed? We’ll be back in a few minutes.

            As Dr. Evans and Angie left the room, the nurse moved over to Jamie’s side, stooping to pick up the diaper bag on the way. She smiled at Jamie. “It’s okay, sweetie. We’re used to dirty diapers around here. We’ll have you sorted out in no time.”

            “Oooh!” The nurse was startled as she pulled down Jamie’s diaper. “Sorry, dear, it was just a bit of a surprise.” She stroked Jamie’s hair and leaned down close to his face. “Don’t you worry, sweetie. Dr. Evans will take care of those dangly parts, she’s one of the best. You’re already such an adorable little girl. Just a bit stinky at the moment.”

            She moved back to the task at hand, taking special care to clean Jamie’s private parts and pushing a wipe up his rear. She quickly balled up the soiled diaper and slid a clean one under his bottom, marveling at the cute designs. Releasing his feet from the stirrups and freeing him from the waist restraint, she had him stand as she slipped on his plastic panties and assisted him with the dress and footwear. Jamie remained quiet and compliant, not wanting to do anything that would reveal his true age.

            Meanwhile, Dr. Evans and Angie were deep in conversation. “It’s good that you brought Jamie in now rather than when her male organs were further developed or her body was overflowing with testosterone,” Dr. Evans said. “First, though, as to the reason you brought her in. I wouldn’t stress out about her bedwetting. When boys hit puberty, studies have shown that about 5% start experiencing nocturnal enuresis, and in my experience the percentage is probably at least twice that. And based on my brief physical exam, it wouldn’t surprise me if her bladder capacity is still that of a toddler. In addition, her gender dysphoria may be playing a part. She wants to begin a new life as a girl, and subconsciously may be regressing as a way of starting over. Just give it time and it’ll pass.

            “Until it does,” Dr. Evans continued, “I suggest giving her what she wants. If you think she’d be happier living at a younger age, whether baby, toddler, or little girl, there’s no harm in indulging her. It may even help in her transition. And I have something else that will help.”

            The doctor rummaged around in her bottom desk drawer for a few seconds before finding what she was looking for. She handed Angie two packets of tablets.

            “These are sample packs of a new drug that hit the market just a few months ago. It’ll get you started but I’ll also write a prescription. It’s similar to current medication that allows a child to move from a boy to a girl, but the advantage here is that it’s not permanent. If, say, after six months the child decides she no longer wants to transition and wants to continue life as a biological male, she just stops taking it and eventually loses the secondary characteristics of a female with no long-lasting side effects.”

            Angie was intrigued. “What exactly does it do? And are there any side effects we could expect if Jenny takes the medication.”

            Dr. Evans was ready with a response. “It would essentially replace Jenny’s male puberty with that of a girl. She’ll get softer skin, would lose most hair growth on her face, her hair will become softer and silkier, her voice will soften and go up in range, and she’ll start to grow breasts. I wouldn’t expect substantial growth, but she would probably need a training bra before too long and may outgrow that eventually. She’ll also most likely get moody as if she were getting her period. And yes, there are a few important side effects to be aware of. Erections will be a thing of the past; in fact her penis will diminish in length and girth and his scrotum will shrink.”

            The doctor paused, as if unsure how to continue. “Remember that this medication is brand new, so there isn’t a whole lot of data out there yet. But for at least the first month or two, the pills may cause her to spontaneously ejaculate with no warning, as if the body were trying to rid itself of masculine fluids stored inside. And that action has a domino effect, leading the muscles controlling the bladder to spasm so that she’ll release urine. Until she gets past this stage, you’ll want to have her wear heavy-duty menstrual pads in her panties, or even pull-ups if they’ll fit.”

            “And you said all of these effects are fully reversable?” Angie asked, still intrigued but also cognizant of Jamie’s future needs.

            Dr. Evans hesitated a short moment. “In theory, yes. Again, it’s so new that no one has been able to study patients who’ve gone off the drug after nine months or a year. But it’s expected so, yes. How long it would take for her breasts to reduce in size or her penis and balls to revert to normal aren’t yet known.”

            “Thank you, Doctor, please do write that prescription.” Angie told her. “Thank you very much.”

            Angie returned to the exam room to find Jamie and the nurse sitting side by side on the table, the nurse brushing Jamie’s hair and singing softly. Jamie practically bolted up and over to Angie’s side, and the pair made their way out to the car.

[keith60]

good story I hope there is more soon

[tammie2]

 

17.

            “That could’ve gone a lot easier for you if you’d just cooperated and stopped whining” Angie told Jamie once they were back on the road. “You were behaving like a toddler overdue for a nap. And I can’t believe you soiled your diaper.”

            “That wasn’t my fault!” Jamie retorted. “You saw what the doctor did to me. And she didn’t even tell me if there was anything wrong with me, so I’m not sure why we were even there.”

            “Of course not, she wouldn’t discuss her findings with a young child,” Angie said with a smirk. “But if you calm down a bit and let me talk, I’ll tell you what she told me in her office.” Angie paused for a minute and took Jamie’s silence as her cue to continue. “She essentially said there’s no medical reason for your bedwetting, that you’re just going through a phase, and told me to be patient because at some point it’ll go away on its own. However she did prescribe a medication that she said should help accelerate the process by calming the stress or angst or worries or whatever is causing the problem. I strongly suggest that you agree to take it.”

            As if I have a choice, Jamie said to himself. He fell into silence as he considered his situation. There’s no way he wanted to continue to live as if he were a toddler for the next seven plus months. Trying to put a positive spin on the situation, though, submitting to toilet training by Angie and Millie might be just what he needs to finally regain control at night. Some short-term embarrassment would be worth it if that was the end result.

            Just as that thought crossed his mind, he felt something soft and slippery pass through him into the seat of his diaper. The inevitable odor immediately filled the car, precluding him from covering up his situation.

            It took a nanosecond for Angie to discover what had happened. She was in no mood to be sympathetic. “Did you just do what I think you did?” she asked scornfully. “I didn’t tell you that the doctor suggested that full-time diapers might be just what you need because I didn’t think that would be necessary. Maybe I was wrong.”

            Jamie immediately went on the offensive. “It’s not my fault! Whatever that doctor did when she...when she...well, you were there, you saw it, is still wreaking havoc down there. If you want to blame someone, blame her.”

            Angie knew he had a point but refused to openly concede it, still not entirely over the ingratitude Jamie seemed to harbor for the help she’d been trying her best to provide. Plus, this would be the perfect opportunity to see how deep Millie’s baby fever was running.

            “Well I’m not going to pull over to change you. We only have about twenty minutes to go and you can just stew in your mess until we get home. Crack open your window please.”

            Road construction actually made it closer to forty minutes and Jamie’s rear was growing increasingly itchy. The smell was also getting worse. He moved around in his seat trying to find a more comfortable position until Angie told him to sit still so as not to leak. As much as he wanted to get into the house and get clean, he wasn’t looking forward to the next fifteen minutes when his condition might be revealed to Millie, so he took his time walking up to the front door. He noticed that Angie rolled down all the windows before turning off the ignition.

            His desire to get out of this nasty diaper finally won out and Jamie stepped through the threshold, closing the door behind him. “Follow me,” Angie told him, “and tread carefully.”

            The pair walked up the stairs but to Jamie’s surprise moved past his bedroom door and into the special needs room. He voiced his displeasure to Angie.

            “Again, don’t you think I always have your best interests in mind?” she scowled. “Do you really want the foul odor that trails behind you to linger in your own room for the rest of the day? I thought you could be changed in here, get all fresh, and save your room from that calamity. Unless you’d rather...”

            “No, no, this is fine, thank you,” Jamie retreated. Upon a signal from Angie, he moved over near the changing table where she stripped him down to his diaper and assisted him in climbing up. She immediately pulled the strap across to secure him, pinning his arms underneath.

            “Gives me a chance to try that out,” she told him with a smile. “Don’t go anywhere.” Angie left the nursery and a few steps and a light knock later entered Millie’s room. 

            “I’m about to test how much you really want a baby,” she said. “After all, it’s not all cuddling and playing dress up. Sometimes, quite often in fact, caring for an infant is quite unpleasant or even gross. You know this. And you’re about to experience it.” Angie went on to summarize everything that happened at the doctor’s office and car ride home. Millie seemed to overlook the dirty diaper part of the tale and focused on Jamie’s new medication.

            “Are you really going to give that to him? Cool, now the house really can revert to all women. Mostly, or I guess partly, anyway. It’ll be kind of fun to watch as his chest begins to fill out.”

            “Not so fast,” Angie replied. “I’m not sure I’m going to take it quite that far. The only purpose is to suppress any sexual excitement he displays during diaper changes. That’s not something I want to deal with, and at some point others will be changing him. It would be highly inappropriate if he got an erection in front of a college-aged babysitter.”

            “Speaking of babysitters, have you told him about our upcoming outing? I assume we’re not leaving him by himself.”

            “And lose any progress we’ve made? Not a chance. And no, I haven’t said anything. It might be better if we spring that on him at the last minute so he doesn’t have days to fret about every little thing. Now stop stalling. You have a stinky diaper to manage.”

            Together, the two women crossed the hall into the nursery, where the noxious aroma immediately assailed their nostrils. “That didn’t take long,” Angie muttered, trying to waive the scent away from her nose with her hand.

            If Millie was equally affected, she didn’t show it. “Diddums make a stinky in her diapee, did she?” she chanted in a sing-song voice. “Yes she did, yes she did. Let’s see what you made for auntie to clean up, shall we?”

            Jamie wasn’t happy with Millie’s attitude but rather than say anything decided to pretend none of this was really happening. He closed his eyes, but they instantly flew open when he felt Millie blow raspberries on his stomach. Earth, please swallow me now, he told himself. 

            Millie peeled back the tapes and lowered the front of Jamie’s diaper, then pulled it right back up after assessing the damage. Angie thought her face turned a little bit green.

            “You should always keep his pee pee covered when you’re not cleaning up the mess,” she reminded Millie. “Or you risk getting sprayed. Use the clean part of the diaper, if there is any, to wipe off what you can before you move to the wipes. Don’t be stingy on the wipes. This one looks like it’ll take more than a few. There are gloves down below there if you want them.”

            Millie didn’t need to be told twice. She stopped what she was doing to don a pair then proceeded to the odorous task of cleaning Jamie’s bottom. Angie moved closer near the end to point out a few spots she’d missed and to remind her to put a finger up his rear to clean there as well. Great, Jamie thought, that’s what started this whole fiasco.

            Millie took care to wrap up the heavy, used diaper and placed it on the side of the changing table before placing a clean diaper Angie had brought in from Jamie’s room under his bottom.

            “I know what you’re thinking,” Angie told Jamie, “but you’ve had two poopy accidents within the last two hours so you’re wearing this until I feel safe letting you back in your training panties.” She turned to Millie and reminded her to place a clean diaper under the baby before completely removing the old one if she didn’t want to have to wash the sheet on the changing table after every change.

            Still gloved, Millie picked up the dirty diaper and looked around for the diaper pail.

            “Oh, right,” Angie said. “There isn’t one. The adult-sized pail I wanted is on back order. It should be here next week. In the meantime, wrap it up in one of those diaper disposal bags and hand it to Jamie to bring straight outside to the trash. Jamie, dear, I’ll release you so that you can get dressed now.”

            Ten minutes later, clean diaper under his jumper, Jamie was finally able to get back to programming, away from doctors, women, and distractions. It would have to be an unusually productive afternoon to avoid yet another long night. 

[tammie2]

 

18.

            It had been a week of ups and downs for Jamie. On the positive side, he’d made great progress in his program and for the first time could see the path to its conclusion, distant as that may still be. On the negative side, he’d had a few rough patches with his toileting which he attributed to the multiple instances when Angie insisted he wear diapers during the day so as not to waste one, such as after the visit to the pediatrician. He theorized that his body was becoming accustomed to being able to pee anywhere at any time and it didn’t automatically transition back to normal when he was out of diapers. As a result, the training pants she continued to insist he wear were frequently more than damp, although he’d at least not had a full-on wetting and thankfully no more number two accidents. And for the last day and a half, he’d remained perfectly dry.

            The women took his small accidents as justification for spot checking him for wetness to determine if he needed a fresh pair of undies. Since he rarely came out of his room except for meals and to be put on the living room potty chair, they’d take the opportunity at almost every interaction to inspect his panties. It was no surprise, then, that when he entered the kitchen for dinner Millie signaled to him to approach her chair.

            “Time to do a check for wetties,” she said in a patronizing tone Jamie loathed. He stood mutely in front of her as she lifted the hem of his dress with one hand while she poked and prodded his crotch and bottom with the other. He jumped when she stuck two fingers inside his leg gather and inadvertently brushed his privates in her search for wetness. She concluded by pulling the back of his waist out and sniffing. “Well that’s a surprise,” she told Angie. “Dry.”

            “That’s good news,” Angie replied as she strapped Jamie into his seat. “Our little girl is growing up.” Jamie frowned but had learned that any backtalk only brought on more talk about his bladder, so he remained silent to allow the conversation to move on to other topics. Before dishing out the casserole, Angie handed Jamie one of his pills and reminded him to drink a whole glass of water with it. Every time he took a pill Jamie wondered about when if ever this medication would start to work. He’d been faithful in taking a pill with breakfast and again at dinner. Maybe his dry day today was a good sign.

            Other than a few brief comments about whether to buy Jamie some plastic bibs to supplement his terry ones and cut down on laundry, talk at the table moved from current events to the weather and other mundane subjects. He was just reaching down to fork another portion of noodles when he froze still, drawing the attention of his tablemates. They watched as he closed his eyes and barely moved for ten or fifteen seconds, a pained expression on his face as if he were trying to stop something from happening but was losing the battle. Finally he dropped his fork to the table, grabbed onto the arms of his chair with both hands, and shuddered, his body eventually seeming to sink into itself. Millie’s mouth dropped open as she turned to see Angie’s face. The doctor had mentioned spontaneous ejaculation as one side effect of the medication so they knew it was possible, but seeing it happen was something else altogether. Both women independently wondered if the second phase of that side effect would also occur.

            They didn’t have to wait long to get an answer. Seconds after Jamie appeared to be regaining his composure, they heard a dripping of liquid onto the floor. Angie put her finger to her lips and they resumed talking as if nothing had just happened.

            Jamie, meanwhile, was mortified. Without any sort of stimulation, mentally or physically, he’d become erect and immediately started throbbing. He felt ejaculate moving up his shaft and no amount of effort would stop its progress. Despite himself, he reveled in the brief moment of orgasmic ecstasy, but confusion soon took over as there seemed to be no end to the flow exiting his penis. Only when he felt his training pants growing soggy did he realize he had just wet himself. He opened his eyes, frantically wondering how he’d explain what just happened.

            To his surprise, the women were still talking to each other about fashion and seemingly didn’t have any idea that something unusual and awful had just happened. Jamie began plotting how to get them out of the kitchen so that he could do a quick cleanup and get to his room undetected.

            As dinner wound down, he jumped into the conversation. “I think it’s my night to clear the table, and I don’t think I’ve done my share of the dishes lately,” he said calmly, “so you can continue your talk about sleeve length and shoes in the living room or retire early to your rooms.”

            “Why, that’s so very nice of you to offer, Jamie,” Angie told him. “Maybe we’ll do just that. Let me get you unstrapped so that you can get started.”

            Before he could protest that he could do it himself, Angie was by his side. She reached down to undo the buckle but stopped and straightened back up. “Why is the floor wet? Did you spill something?”

            “I’m so sorry,” Jamie said quickly. “I accidentally spilled my water. I’ll clean it up.”

            Feigning that she believed him, Angie returned to the task of unbuckling when the process of doing so brought her hands in contact with Jamie’s crotch. She stood straight, looking shocked and disappointed, and looked him directly in the eye.

            “Little girl, you have some explaining to do. Not only did you pee yourself, wetting so much that there’s a substantial puddle on the floor, you lied about it. I’ve tried to be understanding about your diminishing control over your bladder and bowels, but I simply won’t tolerate fibbing under this roof. Now talk!”

            Jamie tried to say something about not feeling well or blaming the doctor, but his rambling defense didn’t sound convincing even to himself. He stressed that the doctor had said that he’s just going through a phase and Angie needed to accept that.

            For the moment, she didn’t. Fury flew from her eyes. “Millie, can you please grab the plastic mat and potty chair from the living room and set it up in the corner over there? That part of the kitchen will now be known as the naughty corner. Jamie, you’ll sit in that corner for the next thirty minutes to reflect on your behavior and then you’ll apologize to both of us for lying. At that time we’ll march you upstairs and put you in double diapers with liners and both plastic panties and a diaper cover. Since you seem to like sitting in your own pee, that diaper won’t be coming off until after breakfast tomorrow. No, on second thought let’s make that noon. That’s seventeen hours. Then you can beg us to allow you back into your training pants and apologize a second time. Consider this a light punishment due to the fact that up until now, you managed to stay dry.”

            Jamie’s stay in the corner was made worse by the fact that both women stayed in the kitchen to clean up his mess as well as the dinner dishes and their subject of conversation was, quite naturally, him. Millie advocated for extending his stay in diapers through the entire next day but was overruled by Angie. She did though, to Jamie’s dismay, say she’d consider it if there were a repeat performance. By the time the half hour was up, Jamie felt chastened as well as being very itchy and uncomfortable.

            Both Angie and Millie participated in his cleanup and diapering. Millie took charge of the baby wipes, using handfuls and, oddly, paying special attention to the tip of his penis. Angie followed with a warm soapy washcloth and towel. No sooner did Jamie begin to appreciate being clean and having his groin area open to the air than Millie was back applying slabs of diaper rash cream, baby lotion, and powder.

            While Millie was attending to using every available resource to build a barrier against diaper rash, Angie brought a thick disposable to the kitchen and used a sharp knife to make cuts in the waterproof exterior. She returned just as Millie was in the bathroom washing her hands.

            “This will be the inside layer,” Angie told her. “Butt up, little one.” She placed the diaper under Jamie, then added two soakers before pulling the sides up and taping him as tight as possible, a difficult task with the extra bulk. Millie came back to take her turn with the second diaper. Jamie already felt his legs spread to an uncomfortable degree but there was more to come. Angie slid a pair of thick plastic pants up his legs and Millie followed with a terry-lined diaper cover. Two diapers, two boosters, two waterproof covers. Jamie felt like he was wearing a beach ball.

            “That should do it,” Angie said as she looked down at him. “Definitely the loosest nightie he has. Nothing else will fit.” Millie grabbed an offensively pink-trimmed top from a drawer and slipped it over Jamie’s head.

            “I won’t be by to take you to the potty tonight,” Millie told him. “So you can work uninterrupted until beddie-bye.”

            Jamie rolled off the changing table and tried to waddle to his desk. He ended up half-walking and half-crawling, much to the delight of the women watching him. He plopped down on the chair with a big thud.

            Angie and Millie waited until they were downstairs to release their stifled giggles. “I’m not sure that leaving him in a diaper that long is the healthiest thing,” Angie said, “but it sure is amusing.”

            “We’ll have to wait until morning to see how that casserole of yours affects his digestive system,” Millie teased. “It may be pretty toxic in there by tomorrow. Tell you what. Let’s flip a coin now to see which one of us changes him. No excuses, no backing out.”

            Millie called tails. At noon the next day, she cursed herself for not calling heads.

 

 

[tammie2]

 

19.

            Jamie worked until nearly 1:00 a.m., hoping that he’d be sleepy enough to crash hard despite the discomfort of the massive diaper around his middle. Unfortunately, by that time he was already wet enough to merit a change, which made the diaper even heavier and bulkier. He was also finding it impossible to ignore the chafing and the smell. Lying down, the diapers and boosters lifted his butt too far off the mattress no matter what position he tried. He tossed and turned without success. Looking at the time, he couldn’t believe he had another ten hours to go.

            He eventually fell into a fitful sleep but staggered into breakfast groggy and crabby. To make matters worse, he couldn’t fit into the seat meant to keep his chair dry. 

            “Just for today, you can sit on a towel,” Angie told him as she tied a bib around his neck. “I can’t imagine with all of that padding we’ll have an issue with leakage.”

            “Can you please take me out of these?” Jamie pleaded. “I’ve learned my lesson and promise to always tell the truth. The itching is driving me crazy and it’s hard to walk.”

            “I’m afraid not,” Angie replied firmly. “In this house once a punishment is set that’s it, no leniency allowed. You have less than four hours to go. If you have trouble walking you can crawl like any other infant. As far as your itchy bottom, we smeared enough ointment on you that your skin should be protected, but if not a case of diaper rash might drive the point home even more.”

            Jamie’s comatose state made even the most simple tasks difficult, so by the time he’d finished eating his bib was stained and Angie found it necessary to use a clean section of it to wipe jam and butter off his face. Heading upstairs, the sagging bulk between his legs forced him to lean to one side to swing the opposite leg up on the stair. It took him almost three minutes to get to the landing. 

            Instead of getting straight to work, Jamie flopped onto the bed and closed his eyes. He was on the verge of sleep when cramps hit him suddenly and hard. Not now, he prayed to himself, you have to hold on. Despite clutching his muscles it was only a matter of seconds before his bowels betrayed him and let loose a torrent of muck into the rear of his diaper. It was wet, massive, and putrid, and spread throughout his entire back end before pushing up to cover his balls. Twice he thought it was over only to expel even more. He may have felt more miserable at some point in his life, but he couldn’t remember when. And it was only 9:15.

            Jamie decided not to risk moving before noon. Despite Angie’s confidence in the layers of protection she’s taped him into, he wasn’t so sure. The bulk added absorbency for sure, but it also forced open small gaps at the leg gathers and waist. He debated getting a towel to lie on but ultimately decided that the risk of moving outweighed any benefit. Time froze to a standstill, each minute taking an eternity to pass.

            The next thing he knew he heard his bedroom door opening and Millie’s shrill voice expressing displeasure. “Oh my lord,” he heard her say. “What a stench! And you slept through it? Even a true baby would have cried herself awake having to smell that diaper.”

            Jamie opened his eyes to see Millie’s face hovering just above his own, a look of disgust partially hidden by the hand she had plugging her nose. He heard his windows being pushed further open and correctly deduced that Angie had tagged along to watch the show. Millie didn’t immediately ask him to rise up out of bed so he remained lying as still as he could.

            “This is going to take a little preparation,” she said to no one in particular. She grabbed a towel from the bathroom and spread it out on the floor next to Jamie’s bed, then began bringing the changing supplies over. Baby wipes, a wet washcloth, several creams and lotions, baby powder, and a fresh diaper and plastic pants lined the edge of the towel. Millie loudly asked Angie if she had a mask, which was answered negatively with a chuckle. Millie still wasn’t ready. She left the room and returned a minute later wearing two sets of gloves she’d retrieved from the nursery on each hand. Angie pulled Jamie’s desk chair closer to the action and sat, already fully amused.

            “Okay, baby girl, we’re going to do this one step at a time,” Millie said. “First, sit up really, really slowly so that I can get your nightie off.” Jamie complied and was relieved when Millie announced that both nightgown and bed had escaped stain-free. “All right now, lower yourself back down onto the towel. Sit first so that I can position you correctly before you lie down.”

            Jamie hesitated, not wanting to press the mess against him by sitting, but the desire to get clean overrode that concern. Once he lowered his butt to the floor, though, it was every bit as nasty as he’d feared. He felt the contents of his diaper squish further into areas it had missed earlier.

            “Oh yuk,” Mille commented. “It’s coming out of the top of his diaper. Jamie, don’t you dare move an inch.” A moment later Jamie felt cold wipes being dragged across his lower back, then a new batch of wipes repeating the movement just below the top of his diaper cover. “Okay, lie back little one,” Millie instructed him.

            Millie carefully lowered Jamie’s diaper cover to his knees, following its progress down his legs with a wad of wipes to grab any mess that might be hiding within. Having navigated that layer successfully, Millie got overconfident with the plastic pants, which resulted in both urine and stool dropping onto Jamie’s legs and further down onto the towel. She frowned.

            “Okay, too late to save the towel. For my own health and sanity, we’re going to move fast now,” Millie said. True to her word, she quickly untaped the saturated second diaper, rolling it in a ball and setting it near Jamie’s feet. As impossible as it seemed, as each layer was removed the odor in the room intensified. Millie tried to hold back, but as she lowered the front of the inside diaper she gagged.

            “Oh my god,” she moaned. “This is just... just...” She crooked her arm and pulled her elbow over her nose, which didn’t seem to help. “Angie, please.”

            Angie laughed, reminding Millie that she’d lost the coin flip, but nevertheless kneeled down on the opposite side of the towel. She took hold of Jamie’s ankles and lifted his legs as high as she was able. “That’s as much help as you’re getting, Millie,” she said.

            It took over ten minutes before Millie was satisfied that she’d contained the mess and cleaned every crevice of Jamie’s body. More than once she rinsed out the filthy washcloth in the bathroom sink. Finally, she had Angie lower Jamie onto a fresh diaper, which she pulled up over his groin without taping. “Just in case you’re not done,” she told Jamie. She left the room in search of a plastic bag.

            “I think it’s best you stay in a diaper for now,” Angie told Jamie sympathetically. “You have a bit of a rash in a few spots and if you leak a little the diaper will do a better job of keeping the moisture away from your skin than your training pants. It’s not a punishment, that’s over, it’s just for your own good. I think after dinner you should go bare-bottomed for awhile to give your skin some air. You can spread a diaper out over your chair while you work. I’ll make sure we knock before we come in to put you in your nighttime protection.”

            Millie returned with a kitchen garbage bag, which she used to stash all of the used diapers, booster pads, and wipes. She had a second, smaller bag for the diaper cover and plastic pants. She put both aside, telling Jamie they were his responsibility to clean. She then went into the bathroom to wash her gloved hands. When she returned, Angie once more lifted Jamie’s legs. Millie spread a thick layer of calendula lotion wherever there was a rash, then baby lotion everywhere else. She followed up with generous shakes of powder, which lifted into a cloud over Jamie’s diaper area. Finally, she taped him up and declared herself done.

            The two women left Jamie to finish up and went downstairs to have some tea. Before seating herself, Millie washed her hands for nearly five minutes straight. Shaking her head, she told Angie, “I can’t get that smell out of my nostrils.” Both women laughed.

            “So did that experience cure your baby fever?” Angie asked with a smile.

            Millie considered the question. “Oddly, not at all,” she admitted to her own surprise. “If anything, it’s even more intense. Weird as it sounds, all of the smells of the diaper change, good and bad, seemed to trigger my maternal desires. But,” she looked Angie right in the eye, “that doesn’t mean I want to go through that again anytime soon.”

            It was hard to move the conversation away from Jamie and his current issues, which led Millie to raise an issue they’d been putting off discussing. “Do you plan to tell him?” she asked.

            “That we’re going away for a spa day this weekend?” Angie answered. “I don’t think so. He’s so sensitive. It might be better for him to learn of it after we’re already gone so that he doesn’t freak out. Or make me feel guilty,” she confessed.

            “I guess I can see that,” Millie conceded. “And there’s nothing he could do to change anything anyway, or to prepare for it. Also, despite all appearances, he is an adult. It’s not like we’re leaving a little child behind.”

            Angie chuckled. “Well, yeah, it kind of is. Anyway, it’s only for a little over 24 hours. What could possibly go wrong?”

 

[zzzz50]

Nice writing. I would like the royalties from the pill that causes spontaneous ejaculation. I would then take the profits and develop my specialty line of diapers for men experiencing this and the following urinary incontinence. I am pretty sure I would be among the world’s wealthiest in short order.

[aldl4811]

awesome work

[Jayme]

15 hours ago, tammie2 said:

What could possibly go wrong?”

That's just asking for trouble... I'm surprised they haven't learned not to tempt Fate and Karma yet. I'm eagerly anticipate your next chapter, just so I can see what happens!

[tammie2]

 

20.

            “Well that’s not good,” Angie said as she hung up the phone. “Deborah got the flu and can’t watch over Jamie this weekend. I don’t think I know anyone else who would accept the job given its unusual nature and keep quiet about it. Especially given his newfound habit of spurting and peeing without warning. He’s done that what, four or five times now?”

            “Six,” Millie noted. “We’re leaving early tomorrow morning, How difficult will it be to get someone last-minute?”

            “We’re about to find out,” Angie replied. “I guess my morning plans are set for today. I’ll let you know if I need your help.”

            Two hours later, Angie staggered into Millie’s room looking exhausted. “It was crazy. I started out calling agencies, but they wanted a commitment longer than a day and a night. They also required all sorts of information on the ‘patient,’ and I didn’t think it was right to have a written record of Jamie’s issues. Who knows who might be able to access that down the road, and I don’t want it following him if he ever applies for a real job. My next step was scanning local groups on social media. I finally ended up posting a vague request for a caregiver/nanny on Facebook. That’s when the fun began.

            “I received almost a dozen responses within ten minutes and more kept trickling in. Some didn’t understand that this was a one-shot and wanted long-term employment, others didn’t do diapers or potty training. A few I just didn’t trust to be discreet by instinct. But I finally found someone who seems to understand the job and is available.”

            “Seems?” Millie asked.

            “Well, it was a little hard to tell for sure,” Angie admitted. “There’s a bit of a language issue. She came over from Poland less than a month ago and works as an au pair for a Polish-speaking family a couple of towns over, so her English language skills are limited. I’ll try to explain it to her when she comes tonight but just to be safe I’ll write out details in English and then have Google translate them into Polish and leave both sets for her to read.”

            “She’s coming over tonight?”

            “It made sense since we’re leaving so early tomorrow morning. She gets off work when the parents of the kids she watches get back from work about 6:30, then she needs to prepare dinner for herself, pack a bag, and it’s an hour drive to here. I don’t expect her before 9:00 tonight. She can get a decent night’s sleep and be ready to attend to Jamie’s diaper when he wakes up.”

            Millie wasn’t convinced. “I hope you can overcome the language barrier. I’m sure she was the best you could find considering how desperate we are. I’d hate to miss out on our spa day because of Miss Piddle Pants. Where’s she going to sleep and when are you going to tell Jamie?”

            “She’ll sleep in Jamie’s room. The Murphy bed isn’t here yet and we can’t exactly ask her to sleep in the crib. All I’ll tell him is that we have an overnight guest and he needs to move for one night. He won’t like it but I’ll insist. I’ll break the news at dinner.”

            Angie was right, Jamie didn’t like it. “You want me to sleep in a crib?” he croaked upon hearing the news. It was bad enough that he was on the verge of a cold and his throat was scratchy, now he’s being told that he has to give up the comfort of his own bed.

            “It’s just for one night, Jamie. And given the state of your diaper every morning, it’s not entirely inappropriate. Besides, you can test it out for me and let me know your opinion on comfort, security, and so forth. You’ll be doing me a favor.”

            With Angie putting it that way, Jamie was hard pressed to refuse. He wasn’t even sure he had the right to insist on staying in his own room. He’d have to check his lease. It was his room, but this was her house. In the end, he was cornered and reluctantly agreed. He could do this for one night.

            Millie stepped into Jamie’s room at 8:00 that night. “I’m sorry, Jamie,” she said, “but I have to get up early tomorrow so I need to get you diapered and into the crib now. An extra hour shouldn’t make any difference. Besides, I’ll bet your panties could use changing anyway.”

            To Jamie’s great embarrassment, she wasn’t wrong. He’d had another ejaculation episode after dinner. He’d gotten better at stemming the flow of urine when that happened, but not before his training pants became almost full to capacity. He headed to his bed to lay down but was directed to the special needs room by Millie, who suggested he bring his laptop and charger. “You don’t have to sleep right away. You can continue working in the crib.”

            He’d forgotten how infantile the special needs room was and cringed at the thought of spending an entire night in here. He positioned himself on the changing table and ignored Millie’s “tsk tsk” as she lowered his panties. The one advantage to pissing himself after he had the other kind of emission was that it washed away the evidence of his shame, he thought to himself, totally unaware that both Millie and Angie could see the trail but chose not to say anything.

            He climbed into the crib and began to find a comfortable position to work on his laptop, but stopped when Millie lifted and latched the side rail. “Wait a minute,” he complained. “You don’t need to do that.”

            “You’re testing this for Angie, remember? Frankly, I think it makes things nice and cozy. No more complaints from you, got it? And are you okay? Your voice sounds funny.”

            Even if he’d wanted to object further, it was too late. Without waiting for an answer to her questions, Millie was already halfway to the door with her back turned to him. She closed the door behind her, but not before turning on a nightlight with a cartoon baby mouse cover. She moved to her room to pack and wasn’t lying when she told Jamie she needed to go to bed early. She’d leave it to Angie to wait for the caregiver.

 

            They were on the road shortly after 5:00 a.m. For the first hour both women were still half-asleep and happy to be quietly sipping their coffee and munching on the sweet rolls Angie provided. About sixty miles were behind them before Millie felt awake enough to engage in conversation.

            “What time did Jamie’s babysitter arrive last night? I must have been asleep.”

            “She didn’t get there until after 11:00,” Angie answered. “Her employers were late, packing took longer than expected, she got lost, etc. Both of us were way past ready for bed by that time. I explained a few things but told her that I’d leave the details on the kitchen table. I gave her my cell number but chances are we’ll have our phones off most of the day while in the spa.”

            “Knowing you, I’m sure you typed out way more information than she needed to know,” Millie said with a smile. “We still have a couple of hours to go. Why don’t you try to get some sleep. Before you nod off, though, did you print out those directions the spa sent? They said that gps always sends guests to the wrong place.”

            “Sure, they’re in in my purse.” Angie rummaged around and pulled out a sheaf of papers, then froze. “Uh oh. This isn’t good.” She handed the documents to Millie, who saw that the instructions for the caregiver, in two languages, were tucked behind the directions to the spa.

            “I’m sure everything will be just fine,” Millie said with a false sense of security. “Let’s just forget the outside world for a while and enjoy our spa day.”

            Acknowledging that Jamie and Agata were both adults and were capable of working things out, Angie was soon asleep and the women happily continued their journey. 

 

            Despite her late night, Agata was used to waking up early and found herself up and around before 6:30 that morning. She walked downstairs to the kitchen to have a cup of coffee and read the instructions that Angie said she left, but was surprised to find no notes of any kind. After a brief survey of the kitchen, she rightly concluded that Angie forgot. This left her a little nervous, but on the other hand she was used to taking care of children and assumed this would be no different.

            Once she finished her coffee, she decided to peek into the little girl’s room to get some clues as to what she’d be facing for the day. Walking quietly as she opened the door to the nursery, the first thing she saw was a large crib with the girl slumbering inside. Moving closer, she judged the girl to be about ten years old based on her size. Her exposed diaper was clearly wet, confirming what she thought Angie told her on the phone. Frankly she didn’t understand much of what she’d been told but didn’t want to lose this job by admitting it. About all that got through to her was that the child she’d be looking after was older and still in diapers, and she had just confirmed that.

            She continued her tour of the room. Beneath the changing table were one disposable diaper and a couple stacks of cloth diapers. Since the girl was wearing a disposable now, they must be for nighttime use and the cloth diapers for the day. There were several pair of frilly plastic pants and diaper covers. Opening a few drawers, she found onesies and other outfits, most of them adorned with lace and bows. The closet held fancy dresses and little else. This child must like to be dressed as girly as possible, Agata thought.

            In one corner of the room sat an oversized highchair, and on the cart with the powders, lotions, and wipes there were two large baby bottles and a pacifier. A playpen was folded up and leaning against the wall. All of this was valuable information. Agata now knew that the child’s mental age was somewhere in infancy.

            She picked up the playpen and brought it downstairs to set up in the living room, then returned to the kitchen to look for the necessary supplies. It took some searching, but stored in the back of a cabinet above the refrigerator she found a container of formula and a large supply of baby food in a variety of flavors. She brought several down and placed them on the counter. In a drawer were several bibs. The child must go through them fast, Agata thought, so her ability to feed herself must be rudimentary at best. 

            Looking at the container of powdered formula, Agata had a decision to make. Is that what she was supposed to give the child? If so, it wouldn’t have made sense for Angie to hire a wet nurse. No, she was certain that they wanted her to provide her own milk to the girl, but being older sometimes children resisted being nursed at the breast. For now, she’d use the pump she’d packed. She didn’t know when the girl would be waking up, but it would be best to have a bottle ready for when she did. Agata went back upstairs, quietly grabbed one of the baby bottles from the nursery, and went to her room to fill it.

[kerry]

Could be a fun sequence, though it is dependent on an unlikely series of circumstances followed by an even more unlikely decision: if Angie understands (as she does) that communicating expectations to Agata clearly is of some importance, why would she basically say, oh, fuck it, whatever when the instructions she had taken time to prepare were not left. Surely, she would at least email them to Agata's phone and text her about them.

[tammie2]

 

21.

            Jamie was groggy and disoriented when he woke up. As his eyes came into focus, he saw bars above him and bars all around him, and only then remembered being forced to sleep in a crib. He had no idea what time it was or if he needed to get downstairs for breakfast. He stupidly had forgotten to bring his charging cord with him last night and his laptop battery ran out about 2:00 a.m., so he couldn’t check the time. It had to be time to get up, as his stomach told him he was hungry and his bowels were signaling that he’d need the potty soon.

            He tried to lower the side rail but it wouldn’t budge. The curvature of the bars over the top of the crib prevented him from climbing out. He spent several minutes searching for a latch or some other device that he could undo to release the rail to no avail. Finally, he had no choice but to call for help. He hoped it wasn’t so early that he’d wake the women up.

            “Angie! Millie! Can someone please help me?” Jamie tried to call out but to his dismay his throat hadn’t gotten better and now he’d lost his voice. He needed to get someone’s attention, so he got up on his knees, grabbed the bars, and rattled them as noisily as he could. He’d been trapped in the crib long enough. His diaper sagged heavily on his hips and threatened to burst it was so wet. 

            Jamie was relieved when he heard footsteps answering his call, and moments later the door swung open. He was about to say something snarky about being imprisoned when he stopped cold. Walking toward him was a tall blonde woman of about twenty-one or twenty-two. She was smiling at him and he didn’t know why. He didn’t know this person. Jamie shrank back away from the approaching stranger.

            The woman did something he couldn’t see and the side rail slowly began its descent to the lowered position. “[Don’t be afraid, little girl. I’m Agata and I’ll be taking care of you today while your Mommy’s away. Are you hungry?]”

            Jamie didn’t understand a word the woman said and continued to cower as she hoisted herself up next to him. Only when she was settled with a pillow over her lap did he see the grotesquely large baby bottle she held in one hand. He started to mime a protest and moved to lunge out of the crib, but the woman was strong, pulling him across her in a single, forceful motion, situating him next to her breast. Instantly the bottle’s nipple found its way into his mouth.

            Jamie tried to force the nipple out with his tongue, but Agata skillfully kept it in place, and the movement he made in trying to push the bottle out had the effect of pulling its contents into his mouth. The fluid was warm and slightly sweet, not totally unpleasant, and was actually pleasant to his sore throat. Jamie’s brain told him to resist but his body said it needed to drink, and he soon gave in and began suckling. He’d straighten out this situation as soon as he finished.

            In the meantime, Agata hummed softly to her charge, stroking her cheek as she fed on her milk. She rubbed her shoulder then slowly moved her hand down to check her diaper. She was surprised at how wet it was. For a little girl, she produced a lot of pee. She made a note to make sure to kept the girl hydrated. She’d probably have to supplement her own milk with formula.

            Eventually Agata heard the sucking of air. “[Good baby, good girl. Can you burp for me? Then we’ll get you out of that smelly diaper and make you all clean and fresh.]” She pulled the big baby up over her shoulder, already lined with a diaper, and began patting and rubbing Jamie’s back. To his intense dismay, he let out a series of small burbs followed by a loud belch, inadvertently regurgitating some of the milk out onto the diaper. Agata praised him, wiping his mouth with a clean corner of the diaper. 

            As she helped Jamie out of the crib and led him to the changing table, he tried to find his voice to ask where Angie and Millie were, who she was and what she was doing there, and why she fed him a bottle, but all that came out was a raspy squeak. The woman looked at him sympathetically as she half-lifted him onto the table. The girl must be non-verbal, she concluded. After strapping him in, pinning his arms tight, she produced a large pacifier and placed it not-to-gently into his mouth. “[Agata]” she repeated several times as she tapped her chest. “[Agata].”

            “Agata,” Jamie repeated, although between his lack of voice and obstruction from the pacifier, anything he said sound like babble. Nevertheless, his trying to repeat her name pleased the woman and she smiled broadly as she untaped his diaper. Lowering the front to expose his genitals to the air, she started. 

            “[Oh my!]” she said before recovering her composure. She cupped Jamie’s balls in one hand, squeezing gently lifting them, then moved to his penis and leaned down to get a closer look, as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. She met Jamie’s eyes with a sad smile. The poor child appears to have stopped developing when he was three or four years old, she thought. No wonder she identifies as a girl. This also explains why all of her clothing was so ultra-girly, to compensate for his lack of girl parts and to allow her to look as much like a girl as possible to the world. She wondered if Angie was giving her hormones and when they planned to remove the shriveled boy parts. The thought reminded her of the pills she was supposed to give the baby. She’d get to that once she got the child in her highchair.

            Agata ignored the distressed noises coming from the child, reading them for fear of an unknown grown-up thrust into her life. She wasn’t wrong. In her experience, prolonging a diaper change and using it as a gentle, almost intimate getting acquainted time helped babies gain trust in their new caregiver. Accordingly, she took her time wiping Jamie clean, going over the same areas several times, paying special attention to her dangly bits and her bottom hole. All the time she spoke softly to her, occasionally rubbing her cheek or mussing up her hair and making little kisses on her forehead and nose.

        Once finished with the cleanup, Agata rolled up the diaper but didn’t see a diaper pail, so she placed it out of her way on the table close to Jamie’s head. Saving the lone disposable for bedtime, she expertly folded one of the cloth diapers, lifted his legs, and slid it under his bottom, then folded another diaper in thirds to use as a soaker. Next, she slathered his entire diaper area with sweet-smelling baby lotion and followed up with a generous shaking of powder. As she rubbed it in, she noted the lack of response from the baby’s penis, confirming in her mind that he hadn’t yet hit puberty. She picked two diaper pins with duck heads from a jar, storing one in her mouth while she pulled one side of the diaper across and pinned it tight, then did the same on the other side. Marveling at the size of the plastic panties, she chose a plain yellow pair with white lace trim and pulled it up over the diaper. The panties ballooned out over the diaper.

         “[Let’s find you something pretty to wear],” she told Jamie as she rummaged through a drawer. Eventually she pulled out a two-piece floral romper set, with puffy sleeves, elastic gathers at the legs, and ruffles across the butt. Pastel bows accented the top, making it the perfect outfit for a baby girl. Agata completed the look with while ruffled socks. “[There],” she said sweetly, “[you look good enough to eat].” She capped off the look by clipping the pacifier holder to Jamie’s collar.

        Jamie felt defeated. Until his voice returned, he wasn’t sure how to make this woman understand that he wasn’t a baby. Maybe they’d play with crayons later and he could write her a note? Would she even understand it if he did? Worst of all, the longer this infantile treatment went on, the more humiliating revealing that he was an adult capable of caring for himself would be. If he was to stop this, it had to be soon.

         Agata released Jamie from his bonds. As soon as his feet hit the floor, he wobbled unsteadily due to the bulk of the cloth diapers. Agata took this as a sign that he needed help walking, so she wrapped one arm around him and cradled one of his arms in her other. He kept his gaze on the floor to avoid embarrassing eye contact as they moved, only looking up when she stopped and let go of him. To his surprise and horror, he was standing directly in front of the highchair and Agata was swiveling the tray to one side to create room for him to get in. He shook his head vigorously, an action she completely ignored.

        His lack of strength relative to hers once again prevented any meaningful resistance and he soon found himself buckled into the seat. Agata began to swing the tray back into place but paused, her eyes focused on the arm and leg restraints built into each side of the chair. They wouldn’t be there if they weren’t necessary, she reasoned, so she dutifully proceeded to immobilize Jamie’s limbs. Satisfied, she locked the tray into place before retrieving a bib and tying it around his neck.

        Jamie was now imprisoned in the highchair, unable to communicate verbally or with hand signals. He realized that Agata was talking to him, as much as that mattered if he didn’t understand what she was saying. She must have told him she would be back, as she walked out the door, leaving him alone. It was at this moment that his bowels decided to signal their imminent release. Jamie clamped down but it was too late. He filled his diaper with a fetid, soft, mass. Seconds later, his bladder joined the party. Unlike with the disposables he was accustomed to, his urine wasn’t wicked away from his skin. The soaking wet fabric clung to him both in front and rear and he was instantly miserable.

         It wasn’t long before Agata returned carrying a child’s bowl filled to the brim with what appeared to be oatmeal but with an unknown green substance swirled in. “[Mmmm, nice hot cereal with green peas,]” she told him. As she approached, she stopped short and sniffed the air, shaking her head when she recognized the smell.

        “Just like every other baby,” she told herself, “I guess size doesn’t matter. Breast milk just runs right through them. Poopy pants ten minutes after her bottle, right on schedule.” She took a moment to make her decision. “Well, if she’s like other babies she won’t mind sitting in her mess. I’ll feed her then bring her downstairs and we’ll change her later.”

       Wrinkling her nose but otherwise ignoring the stench, she placed the bowl on the tray in front of Jamie. He instantly gagged, not sure what was worse, the odor coming from his bottom or that rising up from the bowl. Before he could devise a strategy to resist what was to follow, Agata removed his pacifier and had a heaping baby spoon headed toward his mouth. He pressed his lips together as tight as he could but she was prepared. She pinched is nose shut, forcing him to open his mouth in order to breathe. She pushed the spoon inside, dragging its contents across his tongue.

         It tasted as foul as it smelled. After several repetitions of closing his mouth only to have his nose pinched, he gave up in the interest of getting his over with. Agata was relentless, feeding him one spoonful after another. He barely had time to swallow and at times tried to push the excess food out, but she was there with the spoon to scoop it off his chin and stuff it right back in. When the ordeal was finally over, she used the bottom portion of the bib to clean up his face.

        Jamie watched Agata as she walked over to the changing table, assuming she was going to prepare for another diaper change. Instead, she picked up his overnight diaper before returning and opening the tray. She gave Jamie the used diaper to hold as she released him from his binds, then took the diaper back and guided him to the floor on all fours. Given the shifting mess inside his diaper, Jamie concluded that crawling might be the best way to prevent the muck from spreading.

        He headed in the direction of the changing table, but Agata headed him off and guided him toward the door. He had no choice but to comply. When the pair got to the top of the stairs, Agata put down the diaper and bowl and moved in front of him, pulling his legs around to the front, She then put her hands under his armpits and pulled him gently forward until he slid down to the next step. The mess inside Jamie’s diaper squelched and spread, moving forward to coat his penis and balls. With each successive step, it only got worse.

       Once at the bottom, Agata led Jamie to the playpen and motioned him inside. He expected her to change him there but was disappointed. Instead, she walked back upstairs to retrieve the diaper and bowl and disappeared into the kitchen where she leisurely washed the dishes and made herself more coffee and some toast, which she ate in the kitchen in order to enjoy the taste without the interference of the toxic diaper in the next room. 

       Ten minutes later, she finally returned to the living room, but again gave no indication she was ready to change the baby. She turned on the television, flipping through channels until she found programming suitable for infants. Finally, she went back up to her room, grabbed the romance novel she’d just started, and returned, where she settled in comfortably to resume her reading. 

 

 

[D503]

Uh oh! Does the language barrier mean she's staying for longer than a weekend? And has Jamie played into his helplessness too much?

A strict nanny that doesn't mind messy nappies, enforces feedings and doesn't do unnecessary diaper changes won't be fun!

 

 

[tammie2]

 

22. 

      Jamie shifted once more, trying fruitlessly to ignore the sopping, messy fabric between his legs. He was uncomfortable and bored. The programs on the tv held little interest for him, although it may have appeared that he was entranced by the endless drivel aimed at the diapered viewer because it was still better than nothing. He wondered what it would take to encourage Agata to change him. Wasn’t she bothered by the smell?

       About that same time, Agata looked up from her book to notice that the program Jamie was so intently watching was nearing an end. She’d lost track of time and was surprised that ninety minutes had passed since she began to read. She should probably get back to the job she was hired for. Certainly the baby needed changing, but there were a few tasks she needed to do first. 

      She walked through the kitchen and opened the door to the basement, knowing that some families hid their child’s diaper pail on the landing out of view, and at least partially to mask the odor. All she found as a standard plastic tall kitchen wastebasket without a top. Better than nothing she thought as she proceeded to bring it upstairs to place it next to the changing table. Searching the hallway closet, among all of the bath towels and cleaning supplies she found some Borax. She shook a generous amount into the newly-anointed diaper pail, added warm water, and stirred it in with her hand. One chore done.

      Next she turned her attention to the high chair. To Agata, it was inconvenient to have it up here in the nursery when it should be in the kitchen where food was prepared and the baby could be fed at mealtime along with the rest of the family. Presumably it had been stored up here before Jamie’s arrival and Angie wasn’t strong enough to carry it downstairs. Agata would do her a favor and bring it to the kitchen for her. She brought the tray down first, which was easy. The chair itself was wood, so it was heavy and cumbersome. Agata struggled as she lowered it down the stairs one step at a time, then had to squeeze it carefully through the kitchen door. She shifted the existing chairs around then removed the silly plastic seat the baby had apparently been using and placed it on the landing where the garbage can had been.  Checking the time, she saw that she was late for the baby’s next bottle. She wouldn’t have enough of her own milk this soon, so she pulled out the container of formula she’d found earlier, mixed a full sixteen ounces, and warmed it in a pan of hot water. 

     Jamie was initially elated at seeing Agata approach the playpen, assuming she was coming for a diaper change. His joy quickly dissipated when he saw another bottle in her hand. He still felt bloated from the last bottle, but admitted to himself that it did help his throat. Maybe by drinking this bottle down, he’d regain his voice and give this woman a piece of his mind.

      Agata settled herself with her back against the bars and was pleased when Jamie scooted over and laid himself across her lap. She and Jamie both closed their eyes and settled in to a zone, Agata daydreaming about how much pleasure there is in feeding a baby her bottle and Jamie fantasizing about what he’d do and say the moment he could talk again. Jamie immediately noticed the different taste this time. While the first bottle had been soothing and sweet, this milk tasted slightly sour and not at all pleasurable. It took all of his will power to suck it down quickly, partly to get it over with but mostly in the hope a miracle would happen and he’d regain his voice the instant he finished.

     Ten minutes later, Jamie once again found himself propped up on Agata’s shoulder as she burped him, and this time he unconsciously spit out even more of the milk onto the diaper she’d draped there. To his great dismay, his effort to speak made clear that no miracle had occurred and he continued to sound like the baby she assumed he was.

     “[Are you trying to tell me that you have stinky pants?],” Agata asked him in a sing song voice, pinching her nose playfully. “[Yes you do, yes you do. I bet your mommy can’t wait for you to learn to use the potty, but maybe you’ll never be a big girl. Maybe you’ll be making nasties in your diapers forever. Icky. Poor mommy.]” Agata rose and opened the door to the playpen, signaling Jamie to crawl out. I’ll do anything to get this mess off of me, he thought, even if I have to demean myself by crawling. It was a long and uncomfortable journey up to the nursery. Agata followed Jamie up the stairs to prevent him from taking a tumble, at times assisting him by pressing her hand hard against his bottom, which spread the fetid mess inside his diaper into any remaining crack or crevice that had been spared up to this point. He’d never been so happy to see a changing table in his line of sight and lost no time pulling himself onto it.

     Agata was less thrilled at the task in front of her, but she told herself that it was no different from changing any other baby, just more so. She found and donned a pair of latex gloves but didn’t see a mask. Well, she’d been smelling his dirty diaper for hours now, how much worse could it be? She soon found out it could be worse, as the smell seemed to explode into the air as soon as she opened up Jamie’s diaper. Agata and Jamie both gagged. Agata got to work right away. Normally she’d use the unsoiled parts of the diaper to wipe away mess sticking to the baby’s bottom, but this time the entire diaper was covered in pee and poo. She employed handful after handful of wipes but the mess seemed endless. Each bundle of used wipes was placed next to Jamie’s head, away from the work area. Finally she got to the point where she felt safe removing the used diaper. Carrying it at arm’s length, praying that Jamie wouldn’t spray the table in the next minute, she rinsed it off in the hallway bathroom before returning and dropping it into the makeshift diaper pail. She quickly placed a clean diaper under him, folding it up over his penis while she grabbed a couple of booster pads. Just as she was about to apply the lotion and powder, though, she hesitated and leaned her face down until her nose almost touched Jamie’s privates. The stench of the diaper seemed to have penetrated the girl’s skin. For both their sakes, the baby needed a bath.

     Leaving Jamie securely strapped to the table, Agata again left him alone while she went to the bathroom to draw him a bath, taking advantage of the trip to wash her hands, scrubbing them with soap for a good three minutes. Two minutes after that, Jamie was sitting in about four inches of warm water as Agata lathered up a washcloth and began covering every inch of his body with lavender-scented body wash. Once she’d covered the rest of his body, she positioned him on all fours so that she had easy and open access to his groin and rear. Jamie winced as Agata stroked soap down his penis, trying his best not to respond and for the most part succeeding. He jumped again, startled, when she stuck a washcloth-covered finder up his behind and moved it around. Agata took him by the armpits and had him kneel facing her, when she again lowered her head to his midsection and sniffed. She frowned, puzzled, until the problem dawned on her. The smell wasn’t sticking to the baby’s skin, it was ingrained in her pubic hair.

      It didn’t take long for Agata to find Millie’s razor and shaving cream. Jamie watched, horrified, as she spread the shaving cream all over his groin area, denuding him with a few swipes of the razor. Not satisfied, she pulled him to a stand and did the same thing on his legs, then for good measure removed the sparse few hairs on his chest and under his arms. There, she thought, that should keep her smelling fresher for longer. She set Jamie back down, used the washcloth to rinse his body, then kneaded strawberry shampoo into his hair before rinsing his head as well.

      Done. Jamie finally smells like a baby girl should smell, at least when their diaper is clean. Agata proudly led him back to the nursery, where she placed him on top of the awaiting diaper. More lotion and powder, pins in place, voluminous plastic panties pulled on, and she was done. When she picked up the girl’s romper, though, she noticed a damp spot on the flap of the crotch. Not seeiing a hamper, so she folded the romper up neatly and placed it on the floor next to the diaper pail. She pulled a onesie and skirt set out of the drawer, each piece again filled with lace and bows. Agata smiled. Now that the girl smelled fresh, she liked dressing her up like a little doll.

      Minutes later, Jamie once again found himself in the playpen by himself as Agata moved to the kitchen to prepare lunch. Jamie could hear her working and knew not to hope for a grilled cheese sandwich. He was, of course, correct. Once secured in the highchair, arms helplessly bound, Agata placed a sectioned baby plate on the tray before tying another of the endless supply of bibs around his neck, this one trimmed in pink and embroidered with the phrase “Messy Girl.” Each compartment of the plate held unidentifiable pureed globs of different colors: gray, green, and purple. Before long, both Jamie’s face and bib were painted with each. Jamie tried his hardest not to wretch but ended up regurgitating the last bits of the noxious food. Agata didn’t seem surprised or annoyed. This was normal infantile behavior.

      Jamie looked at the clock on the stove and was surprised and disappointed to see that it was only 1:15 p.m. This was the longest day ever. When would Millie or Angie be back to rescue him? His thoughts were interrupted as Agata rubbed his face with a wet washcloth, then released him only to imprison him once more in the playpen. As before, Agata deserted him, this time to go out to her car. She returned shortly with a large canvas bag slung over her shoulder. Smiling, she walked to the side of the playpen, reached inside the bag, and pulled out an assortment of baby toys, including rattles, teething ring, plastic keys, and soft blocks. She scattered the toys around the playpen, rustled Jamie’s hair, then disappeared up the stairs. Jamie ignored the toys and focused on trying to figure out what the mechanical humming sound was coming from upstairs. He finally gave up, then to kill time built a short tower with the blocks, trying to also incorporate the other toys into it without it toppling over. He got so engrossed in his endeavor that he didn’t see Agata approach.

      “[Nap time,]” she said. All Jamie understood was that he was meant to accompany her back up the stairs. Entering the nursery, he was overwhelmed by the pervasive smell of wet and dirty diapers that continued to pervade the room. He was led to the crib and helped in, then Agata leaped up next to him, warm bottle of breast milk in her hand. Again, Jamie noticed the difference in the flavor and soon fell into a rhythm sucking the sweet nectar down his sore throat. By the time the was sucking air, his eyelids were heavy and he was emotionally exhausted from the day’s events. Agata quietly removed herself from the crib, cradling Jamie’s head in her hands as she lowered it to a pillow. She covered the girl with a sheet and blanket, humming a Polish lullaby as she did so. In the time it took her to walk to the door, Jamie was asleep.

 

     The rest of the day passed much like the morning. Jamie woke up from his nap, only a couple of hours after being put into a clean diaper post-bath, heavily soaked. He found himself peeing regularly and with virtually no warning, his bladder overworked from Agata’s frequent bottle feedings. The changing table became a second home for him. He began to stress over his apparent weakening bladder and hoped that it was a temporary condition. 

      Agata often left Jamie to his own devices in the playpen, although she did join him for an hour before dinner to play peek-a-boo, build towers, and try out all of the various rattles. The bottle she gave him just before she left for the kitchen seemed to do wonders for his throat and once she was gone he tested his voice. Not perfect, but getting there. After some thought, he decided not to risk utter humiliation by speaking to Agata now. He would die if she discovered the truth about him. He assumed Angie and Millie would be back soon.

       Dinner was again a colorful and disgusting mess, including bananas mashed into pureed prunes and a mix of green vegetables that smelled just awful. Afterward, Agata read some more while Jamie watched cartoons, then 8:00 rolled around and it was time for bed, at least according to Agata. A clean diaper, frilly pajamas, and yet another bottle of the sweet milk. After tucking Jamie under the covers, Agata read him a few picture books, making animal noises as she pointed to them and saying their names in Polish. This time, Jamie wasn’t sleepy, and he again chided himself for allowing his laptop to die. He laid in the crib staring at the ceiling, wondering if Angie and Millie would be home when he woke up.

      To his disappointment, they were not. It was Agata who walked into the room with a cheerful greeting and a bottle of formula in hand in the morning. She expected Angie to return sometime soon and in anticipation had packed up belongings, including her breast pump, so formula was her only option. After feeding Jamie she exited the crib and raised the side rail back up. She pondered her options. Angie might appreciate it, and maybe it would help her tip, if she dressed Jamie up like a princess in one of her fancy dresses. She liked the idea. Agata began running the water in the tub, adding scented bubbles under the tap. She then scanned the closet to find the frilliest, prissiest dress in the collection. A bag of hair ties, clips, and bows was located on the shelf next to the changing table along with baby-powder scented perfume. Agata happily laid everything out within reach.

      She took extra care with the baby in the bathtub, even playing with the suds and rubbing some of it onto his face like a beard. “[No beards for real for you, little girl,] she teased. Once out of the tub she quickly moved Jamie to the changing table where she double diapered him and added liners to increase the bulk, just because she thought babies were cuter with a huge, puffy bottom. She assumed Angie thought the same. She rubbed baby lotion over every inch of Jamie’s body, then dabbed the perfume in strategic spots.

      Agata found pink plastic panties with rows of lace both front and back. The dress she’d chosen was also primarily pink but with dozens of pastel bows and lace, puffed sleeves, and a Peter Pan collar trimmed in even more lace. A built-in petticoat puffed the bottom of the dress out. She pulled it over Jamie’s head and giggled, more than pleased and how pretty she looked and smelled. To top it off, she sat Jamie down in front of her, brushing her hair and adding butterfly clips and bows everywhere she could fit them. Lacy socks completed the look. Agata couldn’t resist taking multiple photos of the baby princess. At breakfast, she made sure to add a dish towel to areas not covered by the bib and managed to get through a meal of oatmeal and stewed prunes without incident. Finally, she placed Jamie in the playpen, took up her book, and waited.

      About thirty minutes later, Agata noticed a foul odor. She made a face, unhappy that Jamie was ruining her perfect getup. Sighing, she began to get up for the diaper change when she was startled to feel her chest getting damp. Dammit, she thought, the smell of the dirty diaper triggered her breasts to let down and leak milk. She couldn’t ignore her needs but her pump was already packed. With no other choice, she led Jamie out of the playpen to the couch, positioned a pillow, and laid the baby down, lifting her top and lowering her bra. Putting a hand behind his head, she pulled him to her breast, mouth to nipple, and said “[Drink, baby].” 

      Jamie was startled and in a panic. He tried to pull away but Agata was strong and held his head firmly into her chest. A few drops of milk dribbled onto his lips, followed by a few more. It started dripping down his chin. Finally, with no other choice, he began to suckle. The warm, sweet milk made it a pleasure to continue. After several minutes, Agata shifted and moved Jamie to her other breast. This time he didn’t resist. He was addicted to the taste of her milk and admittedly was enjoying the intimate contact. He’d just started on the second breast when he heard a voice.

      “What on earth is going on here?” Angie said, astonished at the sight before her. Jamie pulled away and glanced up to see Angie and Millie standing above them, slack-jawed and staring. He began to sit up as Agata moved to fasten her bra.

      “No, no,” Angie said more gently. “Please finish up. She needs to be fed.” She and Millie took positions on nearby chairs while a shaken Jamie reluctantly continued to nurse. Angie looked around, observing the playpen full of baby toys and Jamie’s dress, hairdo, and lacy big bottom. Mostly, though, she noticed the smell. It was as if soiled diapers had been left to stew in every room.

      Five minutes later, Agata moved Jamie’s face away from her breast and covered up. She gently pushed him down to the floor and had him crawl to the playpen, which she latched shut. Angie motioned Agata to follow her to the kitchen, where she settled up her fee, while Millie sat silently smirking at a red-faced Jamie. Soon the two women returned from the kitchen. Agata moved to the playpen, kissed Jamie on top of his head, and exited the home. Angie sat back down and looked Jamie in the eyes, a slight smile curving the corners of her mouth.

       “Time for an explanation, baby girl,” she said. “And I can’t wait to hear it.”

 

[D503]

Nice. What a pickle!

 

[tammie2]

 

23. 

            “Before you start, though,” Angie continued, “you might want to take that pacifier out of your mouth. Also, although Agata didn’t tell me much, I couldn’t help but notice the highchair in the kitchen, baby bottles and baby plate in the dish drainer, and heavily soiled bibs on the counter. Not to mention a pungent odor of dirty diaper in the air. I’m sure other clues as to what went on while we were gone are in other areas of the house, so it’s in your best interest not to leave anything out. No, don’t get out of the playpen. If you leak, it’s the best place for you to be.”

            Jamie did his best to explain—and justify—the events of the past day and a half, starting with his lost voice. Millie seemed unconvinced, noting that he seemed to have no issues talking today. Angie grilled him on why he couldn’t have found another way to reach out to Agata. Jamie tried to convey his feeling of helplessness and how at every turn his efforts to reign in the babysitter were impeded and that the language difference exasperated even the smallest opportunity to communicate. The women remained unpersuaded and Jamie himself had to admit that his explanation, when viewed in retrospect, made it sound like he put up little or any resistance to his babification. In the end, he couldn’t be sure where the two women stood as to the verity of his story.

             “Well, there are a few good things that came out of all this,” Angie concluded. “First, the highchair is a much more sensible addition to the kitchen than that useless booster. At the very least, unlike the table, the tray will be at your level. Also, I’m glad you were able to test out the crib and some of the accessories we have for older special needs children, and I want to get your feedback on those. First, though, I think you need to be changed. Let’s head upstairs.”

             Angie led the way with Jamie following and Millie trailing behind. With each step up, the stench of used diapers intensified until at the top landing it permeated every pore of the group. Both Angie and Millie plugged their noses as they entered the nursery to find the source of the odor.

             “Oh my god,” Angie said when she saw the makeshift diaper pail overflowing with wet and dirty diapers and plastic pants. A small stack of damp, used clothing sat at its base. “I didn’t know she used cloth diapers on you. What a stench! Jamie, you hop up here and let me get you strapped down while Millie and I do something about this.”

             Even between the two of them, the wastebasket was too heavy with the Borax-infused water to carry downstairs to the laundry room. They ended up using a plastic hamper to bring the disgusting loads down in shifts, until the only stinky diaper remaining was pinned around Jamie’s loins. Millie brought a disposable in from Jamie’s room.

            “Oh sure, now you object to daytime diapers,” she told Jamie crossly in response to his reaction in seeing the diaper. “I’m sorry, sweetie, but until we can make sure that you have at least some control left, you stay padded. The evidence we just hauled downstairs suggests otherwise.”

             Millie pulled down Jamie’s plastic panties and unpinned his diaper, holding back a wretch as she did so. Once again she found herself cleaning up his mess, but as she scraped and wiped it away, she smiled. “Ang, come here, you need to see this.” A minute later Angie was at her side.

          “Oh my,” she said, observing Jamie’s hairless groin area. “It does make sense and I’m glad Agata took the initiative. Healthier and easier to clean, although it does make his appendage look much smaller. Well, hand me that diaper and the panties and I’ll get a load of wash going. Then the three of us are going out to lunch to give the house a chance to air out. Leave her dress on. If she likes being treated like a baby so much, there’s no sense hiding her from the rest of the world.”

            Jamie’s protests fell on deaf ears; it was no different from pleading with someone who didn’t understand English. Millie added some blush to his cheeks and a touch of mascara to accentuate his eyelashes. Shoes were an issue until Angie was able to dig out a pair of black pumps resembling Mary Janes from the lost and found box. To everyone’s surprise, they were actually big on Jamie’s feet, forcing him to take tiny steps to keep them from falling off. Millie giggled at the fact that his gait now resembled that of a real toddler trying not to fall.

            Jamie continued to whine as they walked to Millie’s car, forcing Angie to push the pacifier still dangling from his collar into his mouth. “Keep that in until it’s time to eat,” she warned him. “And stop complaining unless you want a spanking in front of everyone, little one.”

            As they drove, the two women chatted as if nothing unusual were happening, just two adults out with their toddler daughter or niece. Jamie ignored their conversation, although he did hear the part where Millie worried about getting a ticket for not having him in a car seat. He tuned them out when that thought triggered their curiosity about whether anyone made a seat big enough for him, hoping that they were speaking hypothetically. 

            All too soon, they pulled into the parking lot of a pancake house. Jamie panicked as they had to drive around it twice before a space opened for them to pull into. He briefly considered bolting but not only was he having trouble walking, where would he go dressed like a three-year-old? His only hope in avoiding catastrophic humiliation was to play along and hope that no one would look beyond anything but the dress, pacifier, and other trappings of a little girl in guessing his age and gender.

            Angie took his hand as the crossed the parking lot. Millie again walked behind them, an oversized purse slung over her shoulder, laughing to herself. Jamie would just die, she thought, if he knew that his diaper was on clear display under the back of his dress as he walked. She wondered if his fear of discovery had already made him piddle in it. She’d have to find a way to check once they were inside the restaurant.

            “Well aren’t you just the sweetest little thing! I love your dress and your hair, it’s so pretty!” The hostess began gushing as soon as Jamie made his way through the door, then turned Angie. “We have a table just opening up, if you can give us a minute. Now I don’t think we have a highchair big enough for your daughter, but would you like a booster seat?”

            “I think she’ll be fine in the booth, thank you,” Angie replied. 

            It was more like three or four minutes before they were led to their table. The entire time, Jamie felt like every eye in the place was on him. As they walked past other tables, one girl in a Disney princess dress stood up on her seat and pointed at him. He could only hope it was the dress she was singling out.

            When they got to their booth, the hostess was busy spreading a rubbery matt over the far portion of the seat on one side, directing Angie to have Jamie sit there. She must have noticed Jamie’s confusion and lowered her face down to his. “I know you’re a big girl, sweetheart, but this is our ‘just in case’ mat, just in case you have a little accident.” She made no effort to keep her voice down, causing diners at nearby tables to look in their direction.

            Rather than draw even more attention to himself, Jamie scooted over and sat in the center of the mat. Angie took a seat across from him and Millie one at his side. A young waitress arrived at their table and placed water glasses and silverware in front of the two women but nothing by Jamie.

            “Does she have a sippy cup or a bottle?” the server asked Millie. “I could put some juice in it for her.”

            “I’m afraid we forgot it,” Millie said. “Are you able to put some apple juice in a plastic cup with a lid?”

            “Of course,” the young woman responded. She took orders for two coffees. “I’ll be right back with menus.” She returned shortly, placing large, plasticized menus in front of the two women. “Would she like a children’s menu?” she asked Millie. 

            “No thanks,” Millie replied with a grin. “If you could just give her a cup of dried cereal and an extra plate, she can share my food.”

            Angie snickered as the waitress took their orders and left the table. “You see, Jenny, this is what being a little toddler girl is like. Are you sure this is what you want?”

            “I never said I wanted to be a baby, or a girl!” Jamie protested, his words muffled by the presence of the pacifier in his mouth. “I just want to be myself and to be left alone to do my work.”

            He wanted to say more, but the waitress returned with their drinks, placing a small plastic cartoon cup with a bent straw in front of Jamie. “Would you like some crayons to draw with, cutie?” she asked him in baby talk. 

            Jamie shook his head but was overruled by Millie. “She’d love some. Can you thank the nice lady, Jenny?” Jamie gave her a disgusted look but mumbled something that could have sounded like thank you.

            “Sounds like someone is a Miss Grumpy Pants,” Millie announced. “Are you wet, dear? Do you need your diaper changed? Kneel on the seat for me Jenny and let me check.” 

            Jamie balked, an astonished look on his face. He didn’t move an inch and didn’t plan to until Angie intervened. “What did I say about a spanking, little girl? I’ll lift your dress up so that everyone sees your diapered bottom and give you swats right here at the table. Now obey Auntie Millie.”

            Reluctantly, angrily, Jamie kneeled facing Millie. She took her time putting her hand where she could squeeze his crotch, then snuck two fingers inside his leg gather. To her surprise, he was soaked. 

            The young waitress took that time to return to refill the coffee cups, observing Millie’s actions. “My cousin’s slow to potty train, too,” she told Millie sympathetically. “If you need to change her, there’s one of those wall things in the ladies’ room.”

            “I think that’s just what someone needs to teach her a little lesson,” Angie said after the server had left. “Millie, do you want to do the honors?” Angie kind of wanted to do this herself but she could tell that Millie’s enthusiasm exceeded her own.

            “Of course. Come along, Jenny. Let’s get you in some clean britches.” She helped an abashed Jamie scoot out and took his hand. This time, it wasn’t his imagination that they were being watched by many of the other diners as they made their way to the bathroom.

            Jamie was petrified. Before his trip to the mall, he’d never been inside a woman’s restroom and he had no desire to repeat that experience. Most of all he didn’t want to be exposed while in there. Millie’s grip on his hand tightened and she forcefully pulled him into the room and its flurry of activity. Middle school aged girls giggled and gossiped as they primped and fixed their makeup and hair in front of the mirror. Two older women were washing their hands, and a few women of around Millie’s age were waiting for stalls to open. Off to the side, a door was labeled “For Nursing Mothers.” Jamie stared at it, astonished at how much this differed from a typical men’s room. His gaze at the room for breastfeeding didn’t go unnoticed.

            “Yearning to be back at Agata’s breast, Jenny?” Millie asked playfully. “Maybe we could go in there and see if one of the mothers has extra milk.”

            Jamie turned white as a sheet. Millie laughed then lowered the changing table off the wall, instructing Jamie to hop up. She strapped him in then lifted the hem of his dress, telling him to hold it. Before she could untape his diaper, a shadow moved over them. 

            “She’s adorable,” a pretty young woman with long, flowing hair remarked as she looked down at Jamie. “I bet you’ll be happy when you no longer need to associate going out to eat with wet and poopy diaper changes in the ladies’ room.”

            Millie laughed. “You bet. I think this one resists the potty just to spite me.” The other woman joined in the mirth then moved on. Millie quickly reached into her purse and pulled out a clean diaper, which she rested on Jamie’s chest. “No wipes this time, it takes too long. You cooperate and I’ll make the switch quickly.”

            Jamie nodded vigorously. Millie checked that no one was hovering or looking in their direction, then pulled the wet diaper out from under him and positioned the new one, barely folding the front portion over his privates before they were surrounded by the middle school girls.

            “She’s so cute!” one girl with braces on her teeth squealed. “We all do babysitting. Let me give you our number. As Millie turned to accept it, another girl made funny faces at Jamie, who remained impassive. 

            “Whew,” Millie sighed as the girls exited through the door. “Let’s get you taped up and back to the table. I’ll bet our food is there waiting for us.” She finished up, rolled up the used diaper, and disposed of it. The woman with the long hair agreed to watch Jamie while Millie washed her hands.

            Millie was correct, their food was at their table. At Jamie’s spot a small bowl of Cheerios sat alongside a child’s plate with a bit of egg from Angie’s meal on it as well as a plastic disposable bib which Millie tied around his neck. As soon as Millie was settled, she cut up a piece of her French toast into tiny pieces and used her hands to transfer them to Jamie’s plate next to the eggs.

            “Babies use their fingers,” Angie told him when she noticed him looking for a fork. “And you need to make your juice all gone like a good gi

            It was the first non-pureed food Jamie had had in two days and he ate what was put before him hungrily. Soon all three had finished, but Angie and Millie lingered over their coffee. Out of pure boredom, Jamie began coloring the rabbit on the page left by the waitress. He didn’t notice the wink shared between his two tablemates.

            “Do a good job on the bunny, Jenny,” Millie told him. “Mommy and Auntie will put it on the fridge when we get home.” Her comment almost made him stop, but one glance at Angie showed spanking in her eyes so he continued. He barely noticed when Millie reached over and put the pacifier back between his lips.

            At long last, they left the restaurant and headed home. The release of stress hit Jamie hard and he soon fell asleep. Angie looked at Jamie. “Was he really wet? That soon after you changed him?”

            “Soaked,” Millie answered. “I think we need to have a discussion soon about whether we need to go in a different direction with his potty training. If anything, he’s regressing.”

            “Probably the effects of his medication,” Angie added, “but that doesn’t mean you’re wrong. Let’s give it a few days and see where things stand.” 

            When they arrived home, the odor of the diapers had lessened but wasn’t yet completely gone. Angie went to move the laundry from the washer to the dryer, Millie scrolled through her phone, and Jamie grabbed his laptop from the crib to recharge it and make up for lost time. Each  of them, though, couldn’t put the events of the last two days and what it meant for the future out of their mind.

 

 

[tammie2]

24. 

            Given the amount of upheaval that had been compressed into a short period of time since Jamie arrived on the scene, all three residents of the home were relieved that as the days passed and turned into weeks, which turned into a month, everyone settled into a drama-free routine. Angie put the finishing touches on the special needs room and Millie took it upon herself to regularly take Jamie to the potty, where he eventually got used to her presence so that he was able to urinate while she looked on. Jamie made a great deal of progress on the development of his game, to the point where he was almost ready to start stringing scenes together into a cohesive story. He pushed the embarrassment of his infantilization at the hands of Agata and the subsequent outing to the pancake house out of his mind, just two more incidents in his life best to be forgotten.

             Millie, however, had not forgotten. Her baby fever continued to rage and she savored the memory of Jamie in his soiled diaper and extremely girlish toddler dress, and even missed the infantile smell of dirty diapers in the house. Wiping Jamie’s bottom and pouring out the bowl of his potty chair did little to satisfy her urges. Were it not for Angie’s more temperate attitude, she wasn’t sure what she would be doing. She did convince Jamie to spend more time in dresses on the pretext that he’d have a better chance of making it onto the potty if the urge came on suddenly than if he had to unbutton a pair of jeans. 

             She also continued to chart Jamie’s success rate on the potty. Overall he was doing well, but the frequency of his combination ejaculation-urination episodes rose for the first few weeks after they had begun, causing Jamie to have to change his training pants midday. He wouldn’t notify Millie of this, but she would of course notice the different panties at the first potty trip after he changed. She never once revealed that she knew what he was doing, but she did note it in her journal and when Jamie was otherwise occupied, would examine the condition of the panties in his hamper. Eventually there was no ejaculate in his crotch, but his wetting episodes and need to change during the day continued all the same, which Millie found intriguing.

            The period of welcome monotony came to an end when Angie told Millie that a potential new tenant was coming by for an interview. Her story was typical and fit into Angie’s preferred profile exactly. Seven months pregnant, shunned by her family, low on funds and soon to be evicted, and most of all young, scared, and ignorant about what it meant to be a mother. She still needed to come by for a face-to-face talk, but unless she admitted to a drug addiction or showed some other sign that she wouldn’t fit in, she’d be joining the three current residents.

            “What does that mean for Jamie?” Millie asked after Angie broke the news to her. “Will he be keeping his room?”

            “I don’t see why not,” Angie replied. “She can use the Murphy bed in the nursery and everything there is ready for the addition of a baby, albeit a larger one than a newborn. The only disadvantage is the fact that there’s no bathroom in that room, so she’d be sharing the hallway bathroom with you. We’ll just have to wait to see how that works out.

            “If it’s okay with you,” Angie continued, “I’d like you to sit in on the interview. Your perspective as a former unwed pregnant woman looking for refuge here will be invaluable, and it’s always good to have a second opinion. She’s coming at 2:30 tomorrow afternoon.”

            “Of course,” Millie replied. “I’d like to meet her anyway. “I’ll be there.”

            Neither woman thought to tell Jamie.

 

            The next day continued uneventfully, although after lunch the two women took extra time to clean the kitchen after Jamie retreated to his room. It was ten minutes shy of 2:30 when the doorbell rang and Angie opened the door to the vision of a young woman with long brunette hair tied in a scrunchie and a large protruding baby bump, visibly shaking with nerves. Angie pulled her into a hug, told her that she was safe, and escorted her to the kitchen where Millie was waiting with hot tea and cookies.

            “Millie, this is Rose,” Angie said. “Rose, Millie. She’s one of the other tenants here.”

            The interview began with Angie telling Rose about what the home offered and proceeded with Angie drawing out her background and personal details from the nervous and quiet young woman. She had just turned twenty-two, the baby’s father had skipped town and she had no idea where he was, her family had cut her off and offered no financial support, she left college when she couldn’t afford the tuition, and she had to quit her job when her employer wouldn’t make accommodations for her pregnancy. She planned to go back part-time to get her degree after the baby came and would find work that she could do remotely.

            About thirty minutes into the interview, Jamie walked into the kitchen looking for Millie, a concerned look on his face. He was wearing a short skater-style dress and his hair was still in the ponytails Millie had put it in when she brushed his hair earlier that day. He stopped short when he saw that they had a guest. He stood with his knees together and his legs were quivering.

            “Jamie, this is Rose,” Angie said. “Rose, Jamie came to us a couple of months ago. Jamie, why don’t you say hello.”

            “Hhhh..iii..,” Jamie stammered. “Millie, can I see you for a minute? In the living room?”

            “Is it an emergency?” Millie asked pleasantly, knowing from his body language and desperate look on his face exactly what he wanted. “We’re in the middle of talking with Rose, who may be joining us. I’m sure whatever it is you need can wait.”

            Jamie backed out of the kitchen, but not before grabbing his crotch with one hand. Millie and Angie exchanged knowing glances. 

         “Oh, you have a little girl staying here?” Rose asked, which seemed to open her up a little. “She’s cute. How old is she, like eight or nine?” Angie deflected the question and moved back on track with the interview.

            “One thing that worries me,” Rose told the women once they were done asking her questions and had asked if there was anything she wanted to know or if she had any concerns. “I never babysat growing up and I’m the youngest sibling in my family. I’ve never even changed a diaper. I don’t know how to prepare a bottle or give a baby a bath. Is there any way that you can help me learn basic mothering skills so that I’m at least a little prepared when my baby comes?”

            Jamie chose that time to reenter the kitchen, this time almost bent over in pain and his face in utter panic, a few drops of sweat beading on his forehead. “Millie, please...” he whined.

            “Jamie, I said I’d be with you in a minute,” Millie said. “We’re almost done here. Why don’t you join us and introduce yourself to Rose since it appears that she’ll be moving in soon.” As she spoke, Millie rose from her chair and clutched Jamie’s forearm, pulling him slightly in the direction of the table.

            The sudden movement was all it took for Jamie to lose control, and the floodgates opened. He gasped as he froze in place, a torrent of urine flooding his training pants before gliding down both legs and puddling on the floor. Three pairs of eyes stared at him in disbelief from the table. Rose felt like she should look away to save the girl embarrassment but couldn’t tear her eyes away.

            As the last few drops were falling, Millie got up from the table. “Don’t go anywhere and try not to move,” she hissed as she bypassed the puddle of pee and left the kitchen.

            “I’m afraid Jamie doesn’t yet fully understand the concept of the potty,” Angie told Rose as Jamie cringed in embarrassment. “But she’s trying. Some days are better than others, but nighttime is still a lost cause. You’ll reach this stage with your own child someday, but hopefully long before she enters kindergarten.”

            Millie reentered the kitchen carrying a pair of plastic pants, baby wipes, a pair of flowered flip flops, and the plastic mat from under the potty chair. She had Jamie raise one foot at a time so that she could wipe their bottoms before she had him take a giant step onto the mat. Once there, she raised the plastic panties up his legs to hold in the dripping urine then slipped on the sandals. She took his hand and led him out of the kitchen.

            By the time she returned, Angie had mopped up the puddle and wiped down the mat, returning it to its original place in the living room. “Rose volunteered to help you with Jamie’s potty training,” she told Millie, “but she’ll need to watch you several times before she’ll feel comfortable doing it on her own. 

            “I’d appreciate that,” Millie told Rose. “Maybe you’ll have better luck that I’ve had. Now, sorry for that interruption, but what were we talking about before Niagara Falls?”

            “I was saying that I wish there was a way to practice taking care of a baby before my own little one is born,” Rose reminded her. “Because I could really use the experience.”

            Millie and Angie looked at each other and smiled, the same idea having occurred to each of them. “I think we can make that happen,” Angie said. “Now, I want to officially welcome you to the family. When can you move in?”

 

[tammie2]

25. 

            “But it’s not fair,” Jamie whined for the hundredth time. “Why should I have to give up my room? I have a lease.”

            “And if you read that lease,” Angie responded, trying to stay calm, “you’ll see that it entitles you to a room, not that particular room. I know you’ve settled in, but you’ll do the same over time in your new room.” She was careful not to call it the ‘nursery.’ “You have to understand that Rose is at the stage in pregnancy where the baby is sitting on her bladder and she needs to be close to a bathroom at all times. Besides,” she continued with a sardonic grin, “it’s not like you’ve used the toilet in that bathroom even once in the past few months.”

            Jamie winced at her comment. Using the potty chair had become so routine that it hadn’t really dawned on him that he hadn’t peed or pooped in an adult toilet in ages. His hand subconsciously crept down to his crotch where he could feel the dampness between his legs. He knew he was already on shaky ground with Angie, who if she wanted to could evict him due to his failure to disclose his bathroom issues, or at least try to. Still, he absolutely did not want to go back into that room even once, much less call it his own bedroom.

            Before he could continue pleading his case, Angie continued. “So it’s settled,” she said decisively. “And since Rose is moving in tomorrow we need to get your possessions transferred next door. The good news is that you don’t have that much, and Millie and I will help you.”

            At that same moment, Millie walked into the room carrying a few cardboard boxes and packing tape. “Why don’t you gather up all of your bathroom necessities,” she told Jamie. “Angie can start on moving your diapers and pretty outfits while I pack up your boy clothes.”

            Angie was right, it didn’t take long, and ten minutes later all three were working on hanging up Jamie’s dresses in the closet, folding and storing his onesies, rompers, and playsuits in the drawers, and finding room next to Millie’s makeup and tampons in the hall bathroom for his razor, deodorant, and toothbrush. When everything seemed to be put away, Jamie stood in the middle of the room looking confused.

            “Where are my jeans and shirts?” he asked no one in particular. “I didn’t see where Millie put them. And are there already sheets on the Murphy bed?”          

            Angie and Millie exchanged glances. The time had come. “Jamie,” Angie said somberly, “we need to talk. I’m sure you don’t need to be told that your bladder and bowel issues have been a sore point for me. I’ve been patient while you try to get it under control and Millie has been an angel in assisting you, but instead of making progress you’ve actually gotten worse. Just last night Millie made a chart detailing your successes and failures, including statistics on the condition of your panties at various times of the day, full out wettings, the relative wetness of your overnight diaper, and more. Just seeing everything on paper made one thing clear: you have no more ability to use the potty effectively than a two-year-old still in diapers.”

            Angie paused to consider how to word what she had to say, giving Jamie a chance to intervene. Millie hushed him, moved to his side, pushed a pacifier in his mouth, and put her arm around his shoulders, running her hand through his hair. Tears formed at the corners of Jamie’s eyes. He was sure he was about to be evicted and visions of living on the streets flooded his thoughts.

            “I have every right to tell you to start looking for another place,” Angie went on, not completely sure if that was actually true. “But Millie talked me out of it. We like you Jamie, but if you’re going to stay here it has to be under a new set of rules. Besides, any future landlord would ask for my recommendation and I’d be legally obligated to show them Millie’s chart, and maybe even a few of the pictures we have from when Agata dressed you that day. I doubt things would work out in your favor.”

             Jamie began to quietly sob and buried his head into Millie’s chest as she pulled him closer. Millie nodded encouragement to Angie, who was about to turn his world upside down.

             “So here’s my proposal,” Angie said, “and it’s non-negotiable. At first you’ll think it’s the craziest thing you ever heard and your knee-jerk reaction will be to say no. But once you reflect on it, you’ll realize its advantages and that you may come to appreciate the accommodation we’re making for you. Also, it’s either agree to it or start packing. 

           “From this day forward, until Millie and I agree that you’re ready to restart potty training, you’ll be in diapers full time, 24/7. The potty chair will be stored away and the grown-up toilet will be off limits. Like any other infant, you’ll do all of your pee-pees and poo-poos in your pants. And you will not be allowed to ask to be changed or even give any indication that you need to be changed. Obviously this means that you may end up sitting in your mess for long periods of time. We’ll try to check on you often but adults sometimes get busy. As you might expect, this also means that you may have your dress lifted up or get the back of your diaper pulled back in public, but it’s either that or risk diaper rash.”

            Jamie’s jaw dropped and his pacifier fell to the floor. Millie picked it up and gently pushed it back into his mouth, whispering “It’s going to be fine” as she hugged him tightly. Angie took a breath and continued.

            “Because you’ll be in diapers like a baby, you can expect that we’ll need to take some precautions to preserve the furniture and rugs. Your desk chair will be replaced with one with a waterproof seat, to which we’ll add restraints. Babies need to be constantly supervised, especially to prevent them from breaking the rules, but that’s impractical for now in this household. So when we can’t be with you, such as when you’re working on your laptop, you’ll be immobilized. After all, there’s no need for you to get up to use the bathroom. Any other time you’ll also need to be where you won’t damage anything if you leak or have a blowout. That means playpen instead of couch, highchair instead of kitchen chair, car seat when we go out, and of course the crib with its rubber sheet. 

            “You asked about your big boy clothes. They’ve been stored neatly in boxes and put into the attic. We’ll need to have easy access to your diapers at all times, so you’ll be in baby clothes until you regain the privilege of using the toilet. And unfortunately not the little girl outfits meant for nine- and ten-year-olds. You’ll be in baby and toddler clothing, meaning if you’re not in a dress your crotch will most likely have snaps for easier changes. We have several outfits now, but will need to get more because I expect you’ll be need to be wearing them for quite some time.”

            Jamie finally found his voice if not his nerve. “But...but how long are you talking about? It sounds like you’re anticipating more than a week or two. And what will Rose think of all this? Does she have to know?”

            Angie smiled at his naivete. “Yes, based on where you are with your toileting skills, I’m guessing a minimum of four months but maybe more. Hopefully you’ll be well on your way to pull-ups by the time your lease is up. And as to Rose, that’s the good news. She already saw you flood your pants so it won’t be a surprise to her that we’ve put you back in diapers. Although,” Angie said as she looked directly at Jamie’s crotch, “we’ll have to prepare her for something else she may not expect.

            “But I think you’ll like this next part, and it’s also mandatory if you choose to remain here. Rose expressed concern that she’s not prepared to be a mother. The solution is obvious. She needs to learn how to care for a baby, and neither Millie nor I have the time to devote to the constant needs of an infant. Rose will essentially be your mommy from tomorrow until she has her baby. That means two things. One, you’ll be treated like a baby in more ways than just diapers. She needs to learn how to give you a bottle, feed you while in the highchair, bathe you, dress you, play with you, and deal with leaky diapers, spit up, and 2:00 a.m feedings. And you will cooperate. With Rose, you will be nothing more than a drooly, stinky, needy baby and you’ll act the part or you’re out the door. Second, what she says and does goes. Even if it doesn’t make sense. I expect you’ll get lots of cuddles and kisses, but if you misbehave you may also get times out and spankings.

            “She’ll make mistakes. The first time she tries to cloth diaper you, you may end up sleeping on poopy sheets. She may forget to burp you or may not change you often enough, so you discover the misery of diaper rash. And so on. It’s part of the learning process for both of you. But overall I think you deep down crave attention. You appear to be a loner as well as lonely. You each will get something you need. She gets experience and you get loving attention from a pretty young woman, even if not quite in the way you’d prefer. And it may sound overwhelming, but we will make concessions. You’ll be given plenty of time to do your programming, albeit in a diaper and onesie. And even if your bedtime is 8:00, once Rose tucks you in you can use your laptop in the crib. The only thing that will change is that instead of trips to the potty, you’ll get your diaper changed. There’ll be more time needed for feedings and playtime, but overall you’ll end up with just as much work time as before.”

             Jamie was stunned. He knew he didn’t really have a choice unless going back to the fleabag hotel was a more attractive option that being babied, and he knew he’d regret that decision. Still, he was looking for a loophole or at the very least to set some limits. “But if I agree to this,” he said hesitantly, not yet willing to reveal that he was backed into a corner from which there was no escape, “it stays among us, right? Just the two of you and Rose?”

            Angie looked at him with pity. “No dear, I’m afraid not. You can’t expect to stay inside these four walls until you’re out of diapers. We’ll try to minimize your exposure in public, but Rose will need to experience diaper changes in the ladies’ room or on a park bench, or a fussy baby who needs her bottle or breast at the most inconvenient time. And when Rose needs to go to her doctor, she’ll be taking you with her. In short, we’ll do our best not to cause you embarrassment, but it’s inevitable in order to give Rose a true education in being a parent. Okay, you’ve had time to process all of this. I need your decision. Now.”

 

I'm taking the next two days off from posting for Christmas, next installment will be up on Tuesday. To those who celebrate, wishing you and yours a joyful and happy holiday.

[D503]

Awesome. Thanks for the update and have a lovely Xmas.

[tammie2]

26.

            Jamie was allowed to wear a young girl’s dress and training panties and to work in his new room with the door closed while Rose moved in and got settled, but was not permitted to attend her orientation meeting with Angie and Millie. He assumed that he’d be the primary topic of conversation at that gathering anyway so he was happy to be left out. As time passed, though, and his bladder began to give off signals that it needed relief, he considered crashing the party. He wouldn’t mind one more session on the potty.

            Before he could make up his mind the trio of women barged into his room unannounced, startling him and causing a spurt of urine to enter his panties. “Get used to it,” Millie told him when she noticed his irritation, “children and especially babies have no privacy.”

            “I know you met a couple of days ago under somewhat unusual and wet circumstances,” Angie announced as the four stood grouped in the middle of the room, “but now you can meet more formally, if not any less unusual or wet. Rose and Jamie, or Jenny as she shall now be called, say hello to each other.”

            The two awkwardly and quietly said hi, each sizing up the other based on what they knew would be taking place over the next period of months. Rose saw a tiny and shy young girl who she still couldn’t imagine was really a man a few years older than herself; she also couldn’t help but observe the slight sag in the crotch of her thick pull-ups. Jamie saw a beautiful woman in shorts and a tank top who he wished he could be meeting under very different circumstances where she’d be introduced to his genitals in a more adult way than cleaning them with baby wipes.

            After the brief introduction, Rose turned in circles to take in the nursery. It was a remarkable room, where not a single thing any mother or baby could want had been overlooked. Angie offered to take her on a tour, while Millie pulled Jamie aside.

            “Just so you know, that awful little greeting you just gave Rose were the last adult words she’ll hear coming out of your mouth until after her baby is born. In just a few moments, she’ll be diapering little Jenny’s ass for the first time, and we expect you to be in baby mode starting from the moment you climb up on the changing table. Angie may let you slide on a screw-up or two, but I won’t and I’ve made sure Rose won’t. She may seem reserved, but you don’t want to be on the wrong side of a pregnant woman. She wants a baby to take care of in preparation for her own, and that’s what you’ll be. What you are.”

             “And last but not least,” Angie said as she and Rose circled back to join the others, “this is your baby. There’s no time like right now to get started on your education, and from the looks of her panties diapering would be the perfect place to start. Jenny, you can strip down and give Millie your clothes before hopping up on the changing table. From that point on, putting on and taking off clothing will no longer be your responsibility.”

             Jamie turned three shades of red in getting naked in front of a complete stranger. He lost no time in hustling over to the changing table where he was quickly joined by the three women. He moved his hands to cover his crotch, which earned a slap and angry look from Millie, so he placed his arms at his sides. Even after all of the embarrassing moments he’d experienced in this house, he’d never felt so exposed as having three people hovering over his naked body.

             Rose looked down at her faux baby and studied his penis and balls. The only experience she’d had sexually with a man had been the one-night stand that got her in this situation, but comparing his privates with these confused her. Her baby daddy had a long, thick, turgid penis and a ball sack the size of a small grocery bag. What this poor child had was a tiny caricature of those. His penis wasn’t much bigger than her pinkie and dangled soft and loose and she wasn’t even sure where his balls were. Angie broke her from her reverie. 

            “You’re going to want to strap her in to make sure she doesn’t roll off the table or squirm so much that you have trouble with the diaper,” she said, pulling the strap across Jamie’s chest. “But do it quickly or you may have a puddle to clean up. You need to get a diaper under her almost immediately even if you’re not ready to tape her up yet.” 

            “We think you should start with disposables,” Millie added, “because they’re easier, can stay on longer than cloth, and don’t stink as badly in the diaper pail. We just got this pail in yesterday. See how it wraps the soiled diaper in plastic as you deposit it? With cloth diapers you don’t have that luxury because you’ll need to soak them and then wash them.”

            Rose picked a diaper up off the shelf, marveling at its size and admiring its cute baby animal design. She opened it up and started to slide it under Jamie’s bottom.

             “Uh-huh,” Millie said. “The tapes go in the rear. Also, you’re going to want to fluff it up first, like this. That unpacks the fibers in the diaper so that they’re more absorbent. It also poofs out Jenny’s bottom in a most adorable way.”

             Rose nodded and, with a little help from Jamie’s raising his rear, managed to get the diaper positioned. Millie took her hand and guided it to raise the front of the diaper to lay loosely over his penis. “Don’t forget to do that,” Millie reminded her, “or you may need to change your blouse.”

             “Next you want to clean her with baby wipes,” Angie said. “I ordered large ones to make your job easier. You’ll use smaller ones on your own baby. Be gentle but don’t be afraid to rub a little harder if you need to. Make sure you get into every crease because that’s where pee and poo like to hide. Use one wipe for the rear and push a wipe-covered finger up there. You’re going to want a fresh wipe for the front to avoid infection.”

             Jamie jumped as he felt Rose’s finger go far up his rear. This was the longest diaper change, ever, he thought. He began to appreciate Millie’s efficiency. He shuddered when he felt Rose take hold of his penis, the cold wipe causing it to wither.

             “That’s right,” Angie commented encouragingly. “Make sure to lift it up to get right under...oops!” Angie and Millie giggled as a gush of urine sprayed onto Rose’s hand before running down his balls and into the waiting diaper. Rose looked horrified. Jamie knew nothing of what he had done and wondered what had happened to cause all of the excitement.

             “It’s okay, dear,” Angie said with a smile. “Just use another wipe to clean your hand up. You can leave her strapped in once you’re done to wash up with soap. For now, though, you need to finish the job. It’s just a little pee. You don’t need a new diaper.”

             Rose continued to wipe, then slathered Jamie with a pink, fragrant lotion, coating his bottom and his front. He began to feel aroused as she stroked his penis with her slippery hand, but a nasty frown from Millie’s direction was all it took for it to shrink back down. Rose ended with powder—way too much powder—then taped him up.

             “In the future it’s best if you clean off your hands with another wipe before handling the tapes,” Millie instructed, “because the lotion and powder can interfere with how sticky they are. But overall, very good job. You’ll be a pro in no time. How long before your due date? Two months or so? That’s probably 250 to 300 diapers. By that time you’ll be able to change a diaper in your sleep. Which frankly you’ll end up doing sometimes.”

             “Now the fun part,” Millie said. “Picking an outfit for the day. Or at least until she spits up, pees, poops, or otherwise soils this one. I suggest starting with a onesie. They’re practical and relatively easy to put on, plus they come in all sorts of cute styles.”

             Rose was giddy as she searched through the closing filling the drawers of the dresser. For fun, she also studied every dress hanging in the closet. She finally settled on a onesie with a pink and yellow giraffe on the chest and pink trim.

             “Good choice,” Angie told her. “Now with smaller babies you can slip it on over their head while they’re still lying down, but with this one you’ll need to have her sit up, then lie back down again to snap the crotch.”

             Rose had no problems getting the garment on and picked out some plain yellow socks with lace to put on Jamie’s feet. Millie handed her a pacifier and showed her how to snap the holder onto the collar of the onesie. Rose giggled as she again saw how big the bulb of the binkie was. She helped Jamie down off the changing table, where he stood for a few seconds before Millie put her hand on his shoulder and guided him to the floor. “Babies crawl,” she whispered in his ear.

             “Why don’t I show you how to prepare a bottle downstairs?” Angie said to Rose. “Millie can watch Jenny for a few minutes.”

             “My guess is that nap time is on the agenda once you finish your yummy formula,” Millie said with a grin. “So you might want to crawl over to your desk and grab your laptop to put it in your crib.” Jamie struggled to crawl using only one hand as he brought his computer over to the crib. He handed it to Millie, who pushed it under one of his pillows.

             “Smart girl,” Millie remarked, “not standing up and letting a grownup handle your toy instead. Now before they get back, I need to do something. Lay down on your back, I’ll only be a second.”

             Jamie did as he was asked, not even trying to guess what Millie had in store. Millie returned with one hand gloved up and shiny with Vaseline. She knelt down, undid two of the crotch snaps, and pushed her hand past the gathers of his right leg. For the second time in five minutes, Jamie felt a finger go up his ass. Millie withdrew it quickly and snapped him back up. The entire procedure, whatever she did, took only a few seconds. Jamie was curious but knew not to use real words.

             A few minutes passed before the women returned, Rose carrying an oversized baby bottle in her hand. Angie threw a furtive glance at Millie, who nodded. Both women smiled. The sooner Rose experienced a dirty diaper, the better. Like throwing a child into the deep end of a swimming pool.

             Rose beckoned Jamie over to the nursing couch, where she first helped Jamie up and into a prone position, then sat down next to his head. He lifted up and scooted so that he was comfortably on her lap, face nestled closely to her chest. Under Angie’s coaching, Rose managed to get the bottle’s nipple into Jamie’s mouth, putting her arm around his shoulder and tilting his head toward her. Jamie’s cheek was now pushed up against Rose’s left breast and his nose touched skin. If he felt anything sexual, though, it was quickly doused when the first drops of a horrifically awful fluid assaulted his taste buds. He impulsively started to pull away but the nipple was expertly pushed back into his mouth. He had no choice and began to suckle.

             After what seemed like an hour, he was sucking air. “There may be times where you’ll want a second bottle of juice if you think she’s dehydrated,” Angie told Rose. “It means more wet diaper changes but you don’t want Jenny to be thirsty. Now drape this burping cloth over your shoulder like this, then have her right like this. I like to rub circles on a baby’s back but you can also pat it.”

            After five minutes of trying different methods of burping the baby, Jamie produced a soft wet belch, curdled milk running down his chin. Rose struggled a bit to move him to where she could wipe his face clean but managed. She kissed him on the forehead and whispered “Good baby, Jenny, what a good girl for Mommy. Mommy loves you.” Proudly, she led him to the crib where Angie explained the mechanics of raising and lowering the side rails. Rose tucked him in.

             “We forgot to pull out the baby books,” Millie noted, “but you can read to her at bedtime. Now, let’s get some tea and snacks and you can ask any questions you have.” The trio closed the door behind them. A nanosecond later Jamie sat up, retrieved his laptop, and got back to work on designing an fantasy figure. Ten minutes later, while he was engrossed in what he was doing, his stomach began to gurgle in his intestinal area. It wouldn’t be long before Jamie would no longer be able to ignore the demands of his body, but for now he was simply happy to be alone again.

 

 

[tammie2]

 

27. 

            Jamie was becoming more and more concerned about the churning in his bowels. Five or ten minutes ago it was an annoying tickle with an occasional gassy fart. Now he was fighting a series of increasingly painful cramps and his gas felt wet. It may be his imagination, but it felt like there was a buildup of poop moving inexorably downward and pressing against his anus. He was at a pivotal part of his programming. Diverting his attention now meant losing forty minutes of work and having to start over.

            He concentrated harder on his work as sweat broke out all across his brow. With a small cry of triumph, he reached his goal and saved his work, elated at what he had accomplished. It was as if he had been crossing a winding bridge in a fog for days, only to have the fog part to find himself stepping onto the other side. He breathed a sigh of relief.

             His elation about reaching a milestone lasted about twelve seconds longer. A crippling cramp hit and he doubled over to fight the pain. Moments later, his bottom erupted and a pasty mass quickly passed into the rear of his diaper, spreading all over and moving up through his crotch as the flow never seemed to stop. Jamie stashed his laptop and laid down on his stomach so as not to mush the diaper’s contents. No matter, it had already filled every conceivable area. Just when it seemed ready to stop, a smaller cramp pushed even more into the mess. At that same moment, his bladder chose to release. The stench was abominable. He was miserable.

             He peered through the crib rails to the nursery clock. He’d only been “napping” for forty-five minutes but seemed to recall Millie saying something about two hours to Rose as they’d left the room. He couldn’t fathom the idea of sitting in this soaking, stinking diaper for over an hour more. They wanted him to act like a baby. If he swallowed his pride and cried, would the women come running? He looked at the baby monitor only to see that it hadn’t yet been plugged in and the receiver sat next to the transmitter. He was trapped. 

             He knew his rattled mind was in no condition to return to work, or even to surf the internet. He carefully shifted to lie on his back, closed his eyes, and began to daydream pleasant thoughts as a diversion. Lying on a sun-soaked beach, breathing fresh mountain air, bicycling through a pine forest. Calm yourself, Jamie, he thought, breathe slowly and, by necessity, shallow.

            The next thing he knew he heard voices. “I can’t believe he slept through a blowout of such monstrous proportions,” Millie remarked. “Not only the volume, but the smell.”

             “That’s what babies do,” Angie said. “And Jenny’s no exception. It’s not her first time, but thankfully you and I aren’t the ones that have to change her.” She looked at Rose, who had fingers pinching her nose, her face pale and her eyes wide. “You might as well get used to it Rose. They’ll be over one hundred more, although mercifully few as bad as this one.”

             “I think Jenny just encouraged Rose to go into labor early,” Millie laughed. “If only to get out of diaper duty with this stinker.”

            “All right, dear,” Angie said encouragingly, “you know what to do. The process is the same as with a wet one, only...only...only about a thousand times worse. Try to use her current diaper to contain as much of the mess as possible, then do the cleaning routine. You’re lucky Jenny’s not a squirmy baby or one that wants to get her fingers in there.”

             By this point, Jamie was wide awake. Rose lowered the side rail, took him by the hand, and helped his out of the crib. Crawling the short distance from the crib to the changing table redistributed the mess, then lying on the changing table pushed it further up his back. Rose teased his lips with a pacifier, which he began sucking without having to be told. He closed his eyes, wishing time to go faster.

             In fact, time seemed to stand still. Rose quickly became overwhelmed by the task and started crying. Millie moved to her side, whispered words of support, and joined in the cleanup. Before long both women were giggling at off-color comments Millie made as they wiped poop off Jamie’s penis and balls, and eventually the diaper was rolled up and pushed deep into the diaper pail. They hadn’t noticed that Angie had left the room until she walked back in.

             “This seems like an opportune time for your first bath with baby,” she said. “I’ve taken the liberty to run some warm bathwater. I doubt there’s anything left in her, but let’s try to get her into the tub before she decides to go for a world pooping record.”

             Even Jamie was pleased at the prospect of a bath. He was sure that between the two of them, Rose and Millie had cleaned every inch of his diaper area, but he still felt filthy. A bath is just what he needed. He crawled quickly in the direction of the hall bathroom but was redirected by Angie. “No, baby. The bathtub in your mommy’s room. That way any remaining stink stays in the family.”

            Jamie’s crawl through the bedroom that was formerly his was painful. It already seemed to have a different feel, a different smell. What he wouldn’t give to be back in here. He sadly passed through the bathroom door. The scent of flowers arising from the bubbles floating three inches high in the giant, deep tub greeted him. Angie was taking no chances and was making sure that he smelled nice after bath time.

             “Notice that the water is only about six inches deep,” Angie said to Rose, “and for smaller babies you’ll want even less. Of course at first, they’re so little that you’ll bathe them in a plastic baby bath or the sink. And the most important thing is never, ever leave the room or even turn your back on a young child in water. Now, take this washcloth and baby wash and I assume you know what to do.”

            Rose dipped the yellow bunny washcloth into the water, soaped it up, and started gently lathering up Jamie’s feet. Jamie luxuriated in the warmth of the water and the feeling of Rose’s touch as she worked her way up his body. He was surprised and concerned at his lack of response as she tugged at his penis and slid the soapy cloth down its length. Soon she was tilting his head back as she poured water over his hear, massaging shampoo into it. I could get used to this, Jamie thought.

             He turned over as she made a quick wash over his back then spent an inordinate amount of time on his rear. Makes sense, he thought, considering the condition it was in a few minutes ago and what had come out of it. He wished his bath would never end.

            “I wouldn’t recommend it for the first several days after birth,” Angie was saying, “but bathing with your baby is a great bonding experience for both mother and baby. Skin-to-skin contact not only helps, but makes the baby feel safe. You can’t make the water too warm, though, and make sure you have everything you need within reach.”

            Jamie hadn’t been listening. He had his eyes closed and wanted to stay in this zone of relaxation for as long as he could. He was shocked, then, when he felt a naked Rose slipping into the tub behind him, wrapping her legs around his and pushing him down slightly so that his head rested on her chest. She began humming softly as she caressed his hair, placing her other hand on his chest and pulling him tight.

            “We should let Rose and Jenny have a little alone time,” Angie said to a highly disappointed Millie, who was engrossed in the scene unfolding before her. “Rose, not too long now. Baby will get cold.”

             I don’t think so, thought Jamie, who if anything was overheated at the moment. He and Rose continued their snuggle, with Rose twice using her foot to add more hot water. All too soon, though, she made a motion to stand. Jamie followed her lead then sat on the bathmat as she patted him dry with a large fluffy towel, finally crawling back into the nursery and up onto the changing table.

            Rose remained nude as she strapped Jamie down and diapered him. Not quite as efficient as Millie, but not bad either. Once he was protected, she took baby lotion and rubbed it over both legs and on his chest. Between that and the scented bubbles, he smelled as infantile and girly as possible. Before choosing an outfit, Rose stared into Jamie’s eyes and let them linger for a long moment, an affectionate smile breaking forth. She leaned down, kissed him on the forehead, then put her mouth to his ear.

            “I know how weird this must be for you,” she said, “but you can’t possibly realize how much I appreciate what you’re doing for me, and for my baby. I want you to know that I’ll be the best mommy I can be for you and will care for you as if you really were my own.” She kissed Jamie on the cheek, then moved to get an outfit, speaking to him in baby talk as if nothing had just happened. 

            After Jamie bumped down the stairs on his butt, he crawled over to the playpen. Rose paused to gather some toys from the plastic bin then followed him inside, sitting in a position to block any chance of escape. Over the next hour they build towers with blocks before knocking them down again, pushed toy cars around, and played with assorted rattles that spun, squeaked, and changed shapes. Jamie lost himself in the activity. While he would be bored to tears left alone with these toys, Rose’s presence and her constant interaction and words of praise made his time in the playpen actually pleasurable. When she got up at Angie’s bidding to go help prepare dinner, he mourned her leaving and wished he could play some more.

            In the kitchen, Angie commented on how well both mother and baby seemed to be adapting to their roles. “She’s sweet,” Rose replied, “even when she’s smelly and gross. I already feel like I’ve learned a lot.”

            “Well, then, on to the next lesson,” Angie said. “Feeding. We’re going to prepare some veggies and fruit for Jenny, but your baby won’t start solid food until about six months. Before then it’ll be bottles, unless you plan to breastfeed?”

             “I’d like to try,” Rose said, “but I don’t suppose I can practice that with Jenny.”

            “We’ll see,” Angie responded knowingly. “But for now, let’s see what we can put together for you to spoon feed her. Of course you can buy jars of baby food, but it’s healthier and more economic to make your own. We’re going to try some different combinations of vegetables, fruits, and proteins. Don’t feel like you’re limited to what we might like together as an adult—babies won’t know the difference. If you want to mix asparagus with pears, give it a try. Your child will let you know if you’re going to offer it a second time.”

            Rose giggled deviously. She didn’t want to be mean but thought it would be fun to see Jenny’s reaction to some novel flavors. Fortunately, Angie and Millie had already steamed a wide variety of food choices. She picked up some prunes and carrots and dumped them into the Vitamix before scraping the resultant mush into one section of the baby plate.

            Angie raised her eyebrows. “I see you’re taking what I said to heart. It’s probably for the best. That way you’ll get some experience at force feeding a stubborn toddler something she resists eating. I do suggest that your next creation at least be of a different color.”          

            Emboldened by Angie’s statement, Rose took some boiled pieces of chicken breast, several stems of steamed broccoli, and baked sweet potato and pureed it into a greenish mess, placing it next to the prunes and carrots, leaving one empty compartment. 

            “Maybe just some nice, sweet applesauce,” Angie suggested. “To offset what’s sure to be a novel experience with the other two dishes. Then a couple of baby biscuits. We don’t want Jenny to go hungry. In a couple of days after you’ve had your fun and learned about preparing these foods, you’ll be okay with just grinding up whatever the rest of us are having. It won’t look or smell that good, but it should taste fine and we’ll know Jenny is getting the nutrients she needs.” As Rose left the kitchen to fetch Jamie, Angie shook her head and chuckled. This should be interesting, she thought. 

            Rose didn’t need help fixing the usual straps around Jamie’s waist but was puzzled by the additional restraints for his arms. Angie admitted that they weren’t a standard accessory for a baby’s highchair but that sometimes a special needs child that was older and stronger might need them if they were acting up. Given the nature of the meal Rose had prepared for Jenny, she suggested that maybe she should use them this one time.

            Jamie wasn’t happy to be immobilized but was looking forward to having Rose feed him. He liked the attention of this beautiful young woman when she performed even basic functions for him. It was almost like being pampered in a spa. He smiled at his mommy as she tied a bib around his neck.

            The pleasure of Rose’s attention vanished with the first mouthful of food she spooned into his mouth. He retched, and when the spoon came around for the second time he tried to push it out with his tongue. Millie soon joined Rose to give her tips on how to get food into an obstinate baby’s mouth and keep it there. It took most of the two combo dishes, alternated with applesauce, for Rose to get comfortable at using tricks on the baby. By the time she broke up the biscuits and hand fed them to Jamie, the entire lower part of his face and the bib were as colorful as an artist’s palate. 

            Before releasing Jamie from the highchair, Rose put her fingers inside the front of his diaper. “She’s wet,” she told the other women. “Should I change her now?”

            “It’s not that long before bedtime,” Millie answered, “so unless she’s soaked through and on the verge of leaking, she can wait.”

            Jamie was distressed. He tried to remember if he knew he was peeing himself at any point since his last change. He must have known but just forgot, but this was a development he had to keep an eye on. He may be acting the part of a baby, but he was still an adult and should at least be aware of when he needed to pee.

            Jamie was led upstairs and allowed to sit at his desk and work until it was time for bed. He once again was so immersed in what he was doing that it surprised him when the door opened and Rose entered the room with a bottle in hand. This time, she was alone. She took his laptop from him and placed it in his crib, then led him to the changing table.

            Jamie was in heaven as Rose gently cleaned him while she hummed lullabies and blew soft raspberries on his tummy, letting her hair fall across his face. She took her time with the lotion and powder before finally taping the new diaper into place. Once they were together in the crib, she produced a book of nursery rhymes and read a few while she stroked his hair. Finally, she brought the bottle to his lips and held him close while he drank. When he was done, she held him for a few minutes longer, then kissed him on the top of his head and on the tip of his nose.

             “I love you little Jenny,” she cooed.

             Jamie watched as she shut off the lights and closed his door behind her, lost in a fog of good feeling. It was twenty minutes before he emerged from his haze and reluctantly got back to work.

 

 

[Pingu]

Fantastic story so far, I just wish you wrote more often

[tammie2]

28. 

            The following weeks settled into a predictable routine, and one that wasn’t as uniformly repulsive as Jamie had anticipated. Rose gradually took over the entire responsibility of his care. Jamie’s work passed through several critical stages that were extremely stressful to the point that he looked forward to breaking away from it when Rose came to check his diaper or feed him a bottle. She was interactive and affectionate in a way that Millie hadn’t been. It was almost enough to make Jamie happy to be her baby.

            Almost, but not quite. There were things he missed about his adult life. Using the toilet when he chose to, for example, not when his bladder and bowels decided to empty without notice into his diaper, although the discomfort and ick factor of a wet or messy diaper was offset somewhat by the pleasure of being made clean again by Rose. He also missed chewing his food as well as being able to discern what he was eating, drinking water out of a glass instead of formula out of a bottle, and deciding which shirt he’d wear with his jeans instead having someone else decide between a dress and a onesie or romper. And having a bedroom that didn’t stink of used diapers.

            Upon deeper reflection, though, he appreciated Rose making all the decisions in his life outside of what he needed to do for work. It felt liberating and freed his mind up to focus on other things, diminishing some of his stress. Also, since he never left the house anymore, did it really matter what he wore? And the smile Rose gave him as she scraped pureed peas off his chin and into his mouth made his heart flutter, just a little. He would miss that when this infantile treatment was over. He also had to admit that it had been a while since he actually noticed the smell in his room that the women wrinkled their nose at when they entered. 

            Right on cue, Rose breezed through his door for a diaper check and change. Both mother and baby were surprised, though, when Angie entered shortly afterward just as Rose was untaping the soggy diaper. 

            “Go ahead and finish cleaning her up,” Angie told Rose, “but don’t pull out another disposable. It’s time you switched over to cloth diapers to give those a chance. They may be messier, but they’re more economical and are better for the environment. It’s also a nice feeling for the baby to have soft cloth sitting next to her bottom and genitals instead of paper. Give me a little room here, and we can fold the first one together.”

            Jamie laid passively on the changing table as Angie walked Rose through a few different methods of folding a diaper, stressing how to put more padding in the rear for a girl. It took Rose several attempts to partially master each way, finally settling on one that was the simplest. She wiped her brow as she finished fastening the last pin.

            “Now the fun part,” Angie said. “Adding waterproof panties. I’m afraid Millie went a bit overboard when she was shopping online, so you have a large number of plastic panties and diaper covers to choose from, each one with different patterns and designs. Note, though, that the odds of you using the same one at the end of the day that you picked in the morning are slim. No matter how thick the diaper, Jenny’s pee will soak through to the panties and her poop will leak out past the diaper. Don’t worry about it, that’s why these are waterproof. But you don’t ever want to reuse a damp or soiled diaper cover. And since cotton diapers don’t wick away the wetness to the same extent as disposables, her urine will be sitting against her skin after she wets. You’ll need to be changing her diapers much more often to avoid diaper rash.”

            Rose was overwhelmed with what to her was an unnecessary switch. She’d been doing just fine with disposables and now was being forced to take on additional responsibilities. But Angie wasn’t done.

            “Here’s the diaper pail you’ll use for cloth. Watch me as I fill it partway with water and then mix in the Borax, which I’ll store here on the bottom shelf. Dump as much of her mess as you can in the toilet, then soak the diapers in here. It’ll reduce staining and partly address the smell, which will be pretty overwhelming as the number of diapers rises throughout the day. You’re going to want to wash them within forty-eight hours in order to keep them as fresh as possible, so that means laundry at least every two days. You may opt for daily. Use the hot setting.”

            Rose chose a simple pink pair of plastic pants, slipping them up Jamie’s legs. She released him and allowed him to go back to work, staying to watch his enormous rear end sway as he crawled back to his desk, pacifier in his mouth. Cloth diapers may be a pain in her ass, but they made his ass look adorable.

            Jamie wasn’t sure how long it was before Rose’s return. All he knew is that his bottom was wet and stung a little when he shifted positions. Rose mumbled about waiting too long when she checked him, then grew frustrated as she tried to remember how to fold the diaper. In her frustration, she overlooked her usual humming and kissing. What was normally an affectionate act became more mechanical as she struggled.

            Eventually she pinned Jamie up and replaced the dripping plastic pants with a zoo animal diaper cover. “I’ll be back with your bottle,” she told him. Their interaction returned to being warm and cozy and Jamie was sorry when he began sucking air.

            When bedtime rolled around, Angie was present again to suggest that Rose double diaper Jenny and maybe use a booster or two. She assisted Rose with the task of pushing a pin through the thick fabric layers. “Make sure to check her at her 2:00 feeding,” Angie said. Rose nodded then proceeded to tuck Jamie in, read him a story, and give him his bedtime bottle.

            Jamie worked late and had been asleep less than an hour when a haggard-looking Rose stumbled into the nursery with a bottle in hand. She groggily climbed into bed and placed the nipple in his mouth, breathing heavily as he suckled. It wasn’t long before she fell asleep, and Jamie soon joined her. Minutes passed until she jolted awake and left the crib and the nursery, not even thinking to check her baby’s diaper. A few more minutes passed until Jamie, still out like a light, dirtied his diaper.

            Rose overslept. Her first reaction after seeing the time was panic and she hustled into the nursery, where she ran into a wall of stench upon opening the door. Jamie was lying on his side, tears formed at the corners of his eyes. Rose ran to the crib. “Jenny, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, baby, Mommy’s here,” she cried. 

            Jamie crawled slowly to the changing table. Each movement brought new waves of pain to his bottom and inner thighs. Once he was finally able to hoist himself up and Rose peeled back the many layers of sopping, stinking cloth, she shrieked. “Angie! Millie! Please come here!”

            Within seconds, Angie and Millie both rushed through the door of the nursery and to Rose’s side. They didn’t need to ask what the issue was. 

            “It’s diaper rash,” Angie said firmly. “And a pretty bad case of it too. Did you change her during the night?”

            A sobbing, hysterical Rose confessed that she had not. Millie tried to calm her by telling her to take deep breaths, but she was inconsolable. “Millie, why don’t you take her downstairs and make some tea,” Angie suggested. Once she was alone, she turned back to Jamie.

            “Jamie,” she said softly, deliberately using his male name, “I’m sorry this happened. I should have supervised her a little closer. I know you’re in distress, but diaper rash isn’t the end of the world. You’ll be uncomfortable for a few days but we’ll take every step possible to ease your pain. Please don’t be angry with Rose. She’s trying her best, and in an awful sort of way it’s almost a good thing this happened. Imagine if she’d neglected a real baby in this way. If you’re going to be mad, be mad at me.”

            Jamie used his tongue to push his ever-present pacifier out of his mouth. “I’m upset with the situation because it hurts,” he said, “but I don’t blame any of you. Please let Rose know that.” Having said his piece, Jamie snatched the tip of the binkie’s bulb with this teeth and pulled it back in.

            Angie nodded and stroked Jamie’s hair with her hand. “I will, thank you Jenny. Now I’m going to clean you up and put a new diaper under you then use some ointment to soothe your flaming butt. But I’m not pinning on the clean diaper. The best way to treat diaper rash is to leave the affected areas open to the air. If you pee, hopefully most of it will end up in the diaper; if not, that’s what baby wipes and disinfectant are for. The bottom line, so to speak, is that for at least the next few hours you’re staying strapped to this table all exposed. And this is the end of our adult discussion, baby.”

            The next several minutes were agony for the poor boy as Angie delicately tried to clean his filthy diaper area without causing too much pain. When she finally began patting calendula lotion on his rash, its coolness offered at least a little relief instantaneously. Once done, she left the room without a word, leaving Jamie to stare at the ceiling with nothing to do.

            In the kitchen, Millie’s efforts to calm Rose down had started to pay dividends, although she was still visibly upset. She looked up at Angie with reddened eyes. Angie drew up a chair.

            “She’s going to be fine, Rose,” Angie said. “Most importantly, she doesn’t blame you for what happened. Mistakes get made and she understands that. The next few days will be difficult for her but this is where you come in. Continue treating her with love and it will all work out. Now here’s the plan.... 

            At feeding time, Rose propped a pillow under Jamie’s head and fed him a bottle, cooing at him and planting small kisses on his cheeks and forehead. As he drank, a spray of urine began shooting out of his penis, which Rose immediately pointed down into the diaper. She waited patiently for him to finish, then despite the restrictions of the Velcro strap tried to prop him up far enough to burp him, a fruitless endeavor that had both of them giggling. Rose replaced the wet diaper, cleaned pee off of areas Jamie hit before she’d reacted, then laid her face on his chest.

            “I’m sorry, baby,” she said with a catch in her voice. “And it’ll never happen again. I love you so very, very much, so much more than you can know. Jenny, you’re my special baby and always will be.”

            They laid there, Rose listening to her baby’s heartbeat, for several moments until Millie approached them. “It’s ready,” she said.

            Rose led the way as a naked Jamie crawled behind her, Millie trailing with an emergency diaper in hand. Instead of stopping in the living room, or even the kitchen, they proceeded out the door into the back yard. Angie stood there next to a large terry blanket, motioning Rose to lead the baby into its center. Books and toys littered the edges of the blanket. Millie set the cloth diaper she’d been carrying next to Jamie.

            “Rose, as we discussed, this blanket is made of the same fabric as the diapers she wears. If she potties while on it, which I’m sure she will, it’s no different than her wetting her diaper and we can throw it in the washer with the diapers. If she starts to poop, try to get that diaper under her but if you miss, not a big deal.”

            Rose had Jamie lie on his stomach in order to expose his butt to the sun. She read him stories, sang to him, and used blocks and rattles to make strange castles. Every so often she’d lie beside him and rub his back or rustle his hair. Once when she played with his earlobes Jamie thought he’d gone to heaven. It was such a pleasant way to pass the afternoon that Jamie almost forgot about his pain.

            After a few hours the wet spot beneath Jamie had spread to such a degree that the women decided it was time to end the outdoor play session. The group reversed their earlier migration and returned to the nursery, where Angie had arranged the potty chair to sit on top of the desk chair so that Jamie could be strapped in safely and any bathroom needs would fall into the potty while he worked. It wasn’t comfortable but it beat the alternative. 

            As Jamie settled in, Angie spoke to Rose. “You have enough diapers in the pail that there should be a full load once you add the blanket,” she said. “This you can do on your own.”

            Rose could tell instantly why neither of the other women offered to help. The diapers that had been soaking were putrid to the point she had to check herself from vomiting more than once. They were heavy after absorbing the borax water and it required several trips to haul them down to the laundry room. Disposing of the filthy water left behind was the worst of all, but handling the diapers as she put them into the washer and sprayed them with stain remover was a close second. Once the washer was started, Rose washed her hands over and over was never satisfied that they were clean. The emotions of the day again overtook her. She sat on the bathroom floor and cried.

            It was Millie who dumped out and replaced Jamie’s potty and Angie who fed Jamie at his desk. Only when it was time for a bottle and bed did Rose reappear, her eyes puffy but with a wan smile on her lips. She gave Jamie a huge hug and held him for a full minute. When it came time to put on his nighttime diaper, she pulled out a disposable. The cloth diapers never made an appearance on his bottom again.

[tammie2]

 

29.

            The household once more returned to a certain level of normalcy and days turned into weeks. At dinner one night, as Rose waddled up to the highchair to push a mixture of pureed chicken, cornbread, and squash into Jamie’s waiting mouth, Millie commented on how she seemed to have doubled in size within the last month.

            “Most of that I attribute to your cooking,” Rose laughed, “but part of it is the baby growing larger inside of me. I can feel it moving and kicking. I think it wants to come out. Which reminds me. I have an appointment with my obstetrician next Monday. Can I count on one of you to watch Jenny for me?”

            Before Millie could answer, Angie cut in. “It would be good experience to take Jenny with you. Handling a baby during an important event is a skill you should learn. Also, you need to get comfortable taking your baby out in public.”

            Rose looked crestfallen. “Please, just when I’m at the doctor’s. They do tests that prevent me from holding her and it’s not the nurses’ responsibility to watch my other child. I’d have to bring one of you with me and then it would still be you watching over Jenny instead of me, only there instead of here.”

            “She’s got a point, Ang,” Millie said. “It would be you or me struggling with her or trying to find space in the examination room to change her and we don’t need that practice. That being said, I agree that she needs the experience of carting a baby around outside the home.” She turned to face Rose. “How about we compromise? I’ll watch Jenny while you’re at the doctor, but you and Jenny need to get out of the house for at least half a day. I’d say start at the mall, then bring her to the park. Roughly four or five hours total. That way you’ll need to figure out where to change a smelly diaper and feed her a bottle away from home in a couple of different settings.”

            Rose readily agreed, but Jamie wasn’t allowed to give his input to the conversation. Going out in public might be good experience for Rose, but it would mean he’d be exposed to the eyes of strangers. Not only being dragged around in baby clothes, which was bad enough, but having his privates exposed during a diaper change? Inconceivable. He was prevented from pointing out his objection by the constant flow of mush into his mouth, not to mention that using adult words would bring on the phantom punishments he’d been threatened with. 

            After lunch, when Rose retreated to the nursery for a bottle feed, Angie and Millie conferred. “She’d need a stroller big enough to fit her,” Angie said. “But I assume you’ve already looked into that.”

            “You know me too well,” Millie replied smiling. “Already ordered in fact and it’ll be here in a couple of days. Even after Rose has her baby, Jenny’s still got several more months on her lease and from what I can tell, will be further away than ever from controlling her potty needs. My guess is that they’ll be two babies in the house for the foreseeable future, so it’s not a bad investment. It also fits in well with your plan to attract older special needs kids. I made sure to customize it so that once in, baby will need an adult’s help to get out.”

            Angie’s imagination immediately zeroed in on she and Rose pushing Jenny and Rose’s baby down the street side by side in matching strollers. A part of her tingled in glee. “You were right to anticipate that need, thanks. I’ll reimburse you for the stroller. Did you buy one yet for Rose’s baby shower? Show me the picture of Jenny’s and let’s see if we can find a match.”

             “Speaking of the shower, how many guests are we expecting? And has she figured it out yet?”

            “Not as far as I can tell. My guess is that no one cared enough to throw her a party when she was growing up, so it’s the last thing that she’ll expect. As far as guests, I think about seven, maybe eight of my former tenants? Not counting several toddlers and infants. It’s a beautiful thing that so many of them think so fondly of my mission here that they’ll show up for a complete stranger.” Angie dreamily thought back to how most of the women attending had nothing themselves when they were here but were gifted the essentials by tenants before them. Now they were giving back.

            “So let me get this straight, then,” Millie said. “Monday is Rose’s doctor. Friday is the surprise shower. So next weekend would be perfect for her public outing with Jenny. She’ll have the stroller, I’m sure one of the women will give her a diaper bag, and the mall and park will both be crowded. Sounds perfect.”

            Angie shook her head. “I’m not sure Jenny would agree, but then babies have no say in the matter. She seems prone to losing control of her bowels when stressed. Rose is going to be put to the test, that’s for sure.”

            “Well, I’m sure Friday will be here before we know it, so I need to get to the store to get what we need for food and drink. Anything else you can think of?

            “Maybe,” Angie said, testing her memory. “Before you go, let’s hit the basement and see what decorations we have left over from the last shower. I may need you to drop by the party store. We don’t know the sex yet of Rose’s baby, so either pink or blue will be fine.

            Millie grinned. “Pink will at least be appropriate for the baby already here. Are we going to tell Jenny about the party?”

            “Best not, I think,” Angie replied. “Just like with the babysitter, she’d only stress, and there’s nothing she could do to prepare for it anyway. I have told the women that are coming about her just to avoid any awkwardness when they first see Jenny. I needn’t have bothered. Every one of them thought it was a great idea, after they stopped laughing.”

            The two women laughed themselves, then headed down the stairs.

            Meanwhile, Rose was comfortably resting on the nursing couch upstairs as Jamie was finishing his bottle of formula. She’d positioned him so that his chest nestled up against her own just below her breasts. It wasn’t the most natural position but ever since the diaper rash debacle she tried to express her regrets by holding him as close as possible whenever possible, and Jenny seemed to appreciate it. 

            When he’d finished and Rose began to move him over her shoulder for burping, she paused. “Jenny, did you dribble while you were drinking?” she asked. There were two small but distinct wet spots on either side of his chest. Did he maybe spit up on himself? On her? As she patted Jenny’s back she moved her hand down to feel her blouse and was surprised to find similar wet patches there. Puzzled, she attributed it to her baby’s sloppy nursing and thought no more about it.

            Until after she’d changed into a fresh blouse. Within an hour, with no bottle sessions during that time, two dime-sized spots sat directly above where her nipples sat inside her bra. Curious now, she slipped one cup down off of her boob and looked at her nipple. Perched on the very tip was a thick, yellow drop and the inside of her bra was damp, which threw her into a panic. She reached for the phone to call her doctor but stopped. She’d heard about women who started lactating while still pregnant. But milk was white and this was yellow. She didn’t want to look like an idiot and decided to search the internet first. 

            She’d never heard of colostrum. It was a natural thing, she read, even before she gave birth. She was relieved to know that there was nothing wrong with her or her unborn baby, and navigated over to Amazon to order some absorbent pads. A thought nibbled at the edge of her mind and refused to go away. Was she thinking naughty thoughts? Would it interfere with her natural-born baby? She’d wait until Monday and ask her doctor.

 

            Rose was elated as she drove home from her appointment. Her obstetrician had seen past her stammering and hesitation as she tried to find the right words to ask her question. “You’re not the first pregnant woman that wanted to know that,” the doctor told her with a smile. “Not even close. It’s natural to want to share such an important event with your partner and from what I hear you’ll both enjoy it. And no, it doesn’t use up your colostrum so that there’s none left for the baby or somehow affect it so that the newborn doesn’t get the nutrients it needs. I don’t have any actual scientific evidence to support this, but it may actually encourage your body to produce more milk and make you more comfortable with the mechanics of nursing.”

            Jamie was puzzled when Rose closed the nursery door behind her as she entered the room with a bottle. Was it because he’d soiled himself and she wanted to prevent the odor from drifting into other parts of the house? That would be new. Whatever, he thought, he didn’t really care. In fact it might be a nice change not to have his fudgy bottom exposed to whomever peeked into his room as they passed by. 

            It was also different that Rose didn’t change him before settling in with the bottle. Normally she didn’t care if he was only wet, but if he was poopy she without fail got him cleaned up and the offending diaper stashed within the pail as soon as possible. Today she didn’t playfully tease him in baby talk as she often did about his condition. She seemed distracted and didn’t even give an indication that she knew he was dirty. Jamie worried that she got bad news at the doctor’s office, but she seemed to be in too good a mood for that to have happened.

            They stayed in the crib today as well instead of moving to the nursing couch, which normally only happened when they were running late for dinner or a nap or at bedtime. No matter, Jamie thought, the only place he wanted and needed to be was where he was right now, nestled comfortably into Rose’s chest. He half dozed as he suckled and entered his happy place.

            Rose burped him and wiped his chin, but instead of moving to leave the crib she settled back down and moved Jamie back across her lap. “We’re going to try something new, today, baby,” she said cheerfully without specifying what this new thing was. Jamie’s eyes grew wide as he watched Rose unbutton her blouse, cup her breast with one hand, and put the other hand behind Jamie’s head as she pushed him slowly to her nipple.

            It wasn’t the same as feeding from a bottle. It took Jamie awhile to find the proper motion with his tongue and the right placement of his lips. There was only a thin trickle of milk that he had to work hard for, but what he did get was sweeter and thicker. Rose stopped humming as he suckled and made no effort to stop him when the milk stopped after a few minutes. Eventually she moved him to her other breast. When he was done there, which didn’t take long, he stopped sucking but kept his mouth where it was.

            They sat in that position for twenty, thirty minutes. However long it was, it wasn’t long enough for either of them. Rose buttoned up when she heard footsteps in the hallway and smiled down at Jamie, her cheeks flushed. “Shhh, little Jenny, this is Mommy’s secret,” she whispered. She helped him down and followed him to his desk, where she strapped him in tight. Before she left she wrapped her arms around his neck from behind and kissed him on the cheek. Jamie was so lost in his own thoughts that it was several minutes before he realized she had gone. Both had forgotten to change his diaper.