Chapter One: The Birthday Party
September 24th, a crisp, brisk early fall day, unusually cool for Illinois, greeted thousands of new and returning students with its windy "Hello." Midwestern University began its term late and ended early, an oddity for a school that called itself "the Harvard of the Midwest," but Tommy didn't really care about such things. He couldn't even keep his mind on which courses he was taking or who his professors were. All he really could think about was the condition in which he found himself as he wandered down the campus lane searching for the building which housed the first class of his college career.
He had arrived in town only a few days earlier, a lone seventeen-year-old from the northeast, ready to strut his stuff in the highly respected university's English Department. He was a writer and a lover of literature, and he hoped to go far in his field. Throughout high school, Tommy had received extremely high grades and commendations from his teachers. Partially, this was the result of his hard work, but it probably also stemmed from the fact that he had very little in the way of a social life. Ever since some unfortunate instances in grammar school and junior high, he had been shunned by most of his classmates. Girls snickered at him in hallways, remembering things he wished they had forgotten. Most of the boys simply ignored him most of the time. Only a few of them ever spoke with him, and fewer still spoke without making snide comments. He had only two real friends, but he was never certain that they were not friendly merely out of sympathy.
Even when he graduated as class valedictorian, Tommy could find little respect from his peers. His teachers loved him, but the sneers and whispers that had accompanied him for years never completely died down, and there was always someone around who would get a kick out of resurrecting them suddenly in unexpected places.
Tommy turned down the central university footpath in the direction of the library. He could see it in the distance, its three gigantic towers dwarfing everything in its vicinity. His class didn't begin for an hour; he thought maybe he would hide there for a while and sort things out. How had all of this happened?
Sitting alone in a quiet wing of the third floor of the stacks, he thought about his life. It had begun normally enough: the first child of a family of six, he had assumed his share of the household duties at a young age. His parents expected him to help out, and it seemed only reasonable; there was a lot to do. At one point in his childhood, he had four siblings in diapers at the same time. Actually, it had been down to three briefly, but his mother had put his oldest sister back in diapers when she had wet her bed for several nights in a row, and she then found it impossible to stay dry for several years. Two of the others made it to regular underwear before she did. Tommy remembered watching as his mother diapered her, lifting her bottom expertly and powdering her backside before pinning her into thick cotton and sliding extra-large plastic pants over her thickly padded rear. He remembered his mother's voice, chiding her, taunting her in baby talk for being six years old and still in diapers when her three-year-old brother was out of his.
And he remembered his own confusion as he watched her get put to bed on her rubber sheet. He could not figure out why, but he knew that he wished it had been him.
He had been toilet-trained early; two siblings in the two years after his birth had clinched that: his mother needed some kind of relief. So it had come as a bit of a shock when, after years of being dry, he had had these odd thoughts. And what happened at David Whatley's seventh birthday party, an event that would begin his downward spiral on the social ladder, came as even more of a shock.
Tommy shuddered in his private carrel. He felt awkwardly tight around the groin area. He stood up, quickly adjusted himself, and sat back down, praying that no one had seen him.
It was true, he reflected: it all started at that party. But the day was nothing unusual, a bright, summer day, and the kids were the same ones he had played with all of his life. Some of them liked him; some didn't. The loudest of them all, Kenny MacGregor, hated him. And Kenny was there, but Tommy simply stayed in a part of the yard where Kenny was not, and for most of the day he had no problems. Shortly after the cake had been served, he and David had taken a walk down the path in the woods. After they had gone perhaps half a mile, Tommy decided that they should turn back. He had to go to the bathroom, and the woods were full of poison ivy. But halfway back, they ran right into Kenny and his crew.
Kenny stood there in the path, menacing, a tall third-grader who had earned his reputation as a bully. Tommy paused a moment, but he figured that being with the birthday boy should help him get safe passage, so he moved on, trying not to acknowledge Kenny's glare. As soon as he was within arm's reach, though, Kenny grabbed him.
"Where are you going, Sissy?"
Tommy tried to remain calm; Kenny was probably just blowing off steam for something.
"Let me go, Kenny; I have to go to the bathroom."
It was the wrong thing to say. Kenny laughed at his friends. "Sissy has to go to the bathroom. Isn't that just too bad. She should have thought about that before she came way out in the woods."
Tommy had never been sure whether he was more annoyed by the fact that Kenny called him "Sissy" or by Kenny's constant use of the feminine pronoun to refer to him. But this was not the place to argue semantics. His bladder was on overtime.
"Kenny," he said, "just let us pass. Come on; you don't want to make trouble. This is David's party."
Kenny motioned to David. "That's right, " he said. "Happy birthday, Dave. You just run on home, OK? Sissy and I have things to talk about."
David looked at Tommy, unsure of what to do. Suddenly Tommy burst free from Kenny's grasp and ran. With his bladder about to burst, he had to try something. But it didn't work. Kenny's friends caught him and held him as the bully approached.
"I'm not kidding, Kenny," he whined. "I've got to go bad."
Kenny glared at him, and then he smiled a malicious smile. "So go."
Tommy was not sure he had heard correctly. Kenny repeated himself. "You've got to go so badly, Sissy, then go. You're not leaving here before we all see once and for all what a sissy baby you really are. Don't let her go, guys."
Tommy struggled against his captors and his bladder, but he lost both battles. In only a moment, he felt the river of warm pee flowing down his legs. Tears welled up in his eyes as Kenny and his buddies jeered; even David joined in. After he had finished, they let go of his arms. He stood in a shameful puddle, his pants soaked through, crying deeply. He hardly even realized that Kenny had led David off somewhere; he only heard the laughter.
Chapter Two : Jimmy
There were people in the library now, a few obviously studious types who had arrived early to begin their research. One girl sat across from him in another carrel, her red hair hanging loose about her face. He wondered how long she had been there; had she seen him before? Could she tell?
His childhood had changed in that instant at the party. Suddenly he became "Baby" to everyone except for Kenny, who stubbornly continued to call him "Sissy." There were other incidents, too, that kept the legend up. Something inside him had snapped on that day, and more accidents followed; doctors his mother made him see said there was nothing physically wrong, that he would outgrow it. But he kept having occasional accidents throughout grammar school and into junior high--not many, but they were embarrassing. His mother never put him back into diapers, even though a part of him often wished that she would; she had finally toilet trained her sixth child, and she was not about to turn back. Even when he began to wet the bed, she did not change. She brought out his sister's old rubber sheet and put it on his bed, but that was it. And so things remained throughout junior high and into high school, as the new friends he made were contaminated by the old enemies who followed him. And always there was Kenny, ready and willing to tell all of the stories to anyone who would listen.
The girl in the next carrel stood up and moved down the stacks, reached for a book, and returned to her seat. She wore a full skirt and a light sweater, not out of place for the weather, but Tommy couldn't take his eyes off of the sweet pastel colours and swirling childlike patterns. She glanced over at him, smiled, and went back to her reading.
Tommy had arrived at Midwestern hoping to put all of the baggage of his childhood behind him. No one else he knew was coming here; he could finally make a new start. He was going to live with his aunt and her family; saving the room and board was the only way his parents could afford to send him here. When he arrived at Aunt Julia's house, everyone was happy to see him. He and his aunt and cousins had sat around all afternoon talking about family get-togethers and old times.
He had hardly seen his cousins in years; this was his first visit ever to Chicago and they hadn't been out east in so long he couldn't remember. Chrissie was sixteen now and had turned into a striking young woman, as beautiful as she was friendly. Uncomfortable around girls, he found himself intimidated a bit by her, even if she was his cousin. Her sister Dana was thirteen, and looking at her Tommy could see what Chrissie had looked like a few years ago: Dana had the same eyes and face, the same general appearance--only her body lagged a bit in maturation.
His third cousin, Jimmy, stayed in his room for most of the afternoon. At first, Tommy had forgotten about him in all of the trips down memory lane, but soon he recalled and asked his cousins.
"Jimmy won't come down, Tommy," said Chrissie.
"He's afraid to," added Dana. "He's afraid to let you see him."
Chrissie cut her sister off. "Dana! That's not nice. You shouldn't be that way about Jimmy. He is your brother."
Dana smirked. "Yeah," she said, "he's my brother. But is he my older brother or my younger one?"
Tommy listened intently to all of this, unsure what to make of it. He didn't remember Jimmy at all; had he even made that last trip out east? He knew though that Jimmy was fifteen, the middle child in his family. So what was the confusion? Dana giggled and left the room with a smile at Chrissie. His eldest cousin watched him silently for a few moments, and then sighed.
"I guess you'll know about Jimmy soon enough," she said. "I might as well tell you, since Dana has spilled the beans."
"Tell me what?" he asked.
"About Jimmy. You see, he's not entirely well…"
"He's not well? He's PERFECTLY well, and you know it." Tommy looked up. Aunt Julia had entered the room, interrupting Chrissie's explanation. "The child is simply incorrigible."
"But, Mother, I…"
"Don't give me any of that, young lady. And don't make excuses for your brother. Tommy," she said, shifting her attention to him, "you will see Jimmy soon enough, but here is all you really need to know: Jimmy is a baby. He acts like a baby, so we treat him like a baby. About three years ago, he began to have accidents in his bed. At first, we tried to ignore it, just an unusual reaction to puberty or something. But it got worse. Soon it was three times a week, four times a week, or more. I tried everything, but he would not stop. Finally, I had had it. I told him that, if he did not stop wetting the bed immediately, he would be treated like the baby he obviously was.
He wet the bed that night, and it was the last straw. When he got home from school, I sent him upstairs and told him to take a shower. When he got out of the shower, he found that he did not own any adult underwear any longer; I had thrown it all away. What he did own was a large supply of cloth and disposable diapers. He was told that he would be wearing them until he stopped wetting the bed. At this point, he has been in them around the clock for over two years."
Tommy's eyes glazed over. The carrel across the way was empty; the girl was nowhere in sight. He wondered where she had gone. He hadn't even noticed her leaving. As he stared distractedly at her carrel, he saw something odd on the carpet beneath it. He couldn't tell what it was, but it caught his eye. Slowly, he rose and walked over to where she had been sitting. Looking around to see that he was alone, he bent over and picked it up. It was a diaper pin.
Aunt Julia had finished talking, and Tommy could only gape. Jimmy was kept in diapers like a baby? Could this be true? Aunt Julia rose to leave the room. As she walked out, she said, "You'll meet him at dinner. He eats first, you know."
Chrissie stayed behind. "Mother gets very upset about Jimmy," she said. "She can't abide that kind of uncleanliness. It's not that she's one of those real neat freaks, but it just sort of disgusts her that he has no control at night."
"But she said he's been in diapers for two years. Surely not during the day too?"
"Yes, all the time. Mother says he can get out of diapers when he stops wetting the bed, which he has found impossible. She treats him like a baby. He sleeps in a crib… well, kind of a child's bed converted into a crib; he eats out of a high chair with a bib on, and he is fed before the rest of us."
"He is fed?"
"Yes. Mother insists that he be treated like a real baby whenever he is at home. And she makes him come straight home from school. Not that he wouldn't anyway; he's usually pretty wet in the afternoon. Mother does not let him touch his own diapers."
Chrissie and Tommy talked for quite a while about Jimmy. Tommy was very glad that his own wetting history was a secret, and he certainly hoped it would stay that way.
Chapter Three : The Old Barn
Tommy walked slowly and deliberately up the stairs of Granite Hall for his first class. The building was old, the oldest one on campus, and he thanked goodness that the weather was cool. With no air conditioning in the room, he was sure that his condition would cause him to sweat profusely in the heat. Then a familiar feeling came over him, and he knew that sweat was the last of his worries.
Dinner that evening had been a fascinating event for Tommy. It began about an hour before he and the girls sat down to eat, when he was finally introduced to his cousin Jimmy. Aunt Julia had led her son into the family room while Tommy and Chrissie were talking. Dana followed, eager to see her cousin's reaction to the baby. And Jimmy was indeed a baby, in everything but size. He was dressed in what Tommy immediately realized was a large copy of a popular kind of baby clothes that he had seen advertised on television; the particular outfit was a frilly top with ducks and rabbits on it and a ruffled pair of green panties over an obviously diapered bottom. A large blue pacifier hung on a ribbon from his top. He had no shoes on over his bootie-like socks with lace at the ankles, and he carried a frazzled teddy bear in his left hand, the one that his mother was not holding.
Tommy had been prepared for meeting Jimmy, but the sight still shocked him. He tried very hard to suppress a laugh at the ridiculous child, but a small chortle escaped. Jimmy turned to his mother suddenly and buried his head in her bosom; Aunt Julia looked down at him and patted his head.
"Now, now, Jimmy; this is your cousin. He doesn't mean to be rude to you. If you are this concerned about how you look to others, you should do something about it. It's all up to you, you know."
As they walked into the kitchen for dinner, Tommy pulled Chrissie aside.
"You told me he was kept as a baby, but why is he wearing clothes that were made for a girl?"
Chrissie whispered, "Mother doesn't think that the punishment is having any effect on Jimmy. His wetting seems to be getting worse instead of better. He used to have accidents only at night, and not even every night. When he wet during the day it was simply because he was not allowed out of his diapers. But lately he's been wetting much more frequently, and he's even messed himself a few times. Mother thought that she would add a layer to the punishment, and she's now dressing him as a baby girl. Sometimes she calls him Sissy."
He started. The name flew up at him from his past: Kenny MacGregor taunting him, calling him that name, Sissy. Then there were the accidents, and everyone made fun of him, and he felt so alone. And then there was the summer after fourth grade.
Tommy tried to pay attention to the professor as he introduced some ideas about the poetry of Keats. It was a poem he had read in high school, and one he liked, but the voice seems to come from within some kind of cavern. He couldn't follow it. His pen was writing some notes, but he didn't know what they were, and he wasn't sure he cared. His mind was in an old barn nine years earlier.
Tommy had tried to stay away from trouble all summer, staying out of sight whenever kids were around and reading a lot. They managed to get him anyway. They had caught him when he was out riding his bike and forced him to come with them. Kenny was the leader, of course, and Tommy thought that he might have been able to handle him if he had been alone, but there were just too many to fight or run away from. Tommy felt very anxious as they turned into the barn at the old Crawford place.
It was an old farm that hadn't been lived in for years, and all of the kids knew it as a hangout; their parents wondered why it had not been condemned, and would have died to think of their precious children in such a place. Tommy was told to get off of his bike and walk back to one of the old stables. There were more kids there, both boys and girls now, and they snickered as he walked in. Tommy looked quickly about the crowd for anything like a friendly face, but there were none; these were all kids who made fun of him on a daily basis.
"Welcome, Baby," said Ann, one of the girls he particularly disliked. "We've been waiting for you."
Kenny pushed him to the ground. "Sissy won't come out to play; she's afraid of us. She's afraid she'll wet herself again."
"Leave me alone, Kenny," Tommy protested, but he was just met by laughter.
"Leave you, Sissy? Are you afraid? Do you think I would ever hurt one pretty little hair on your head?" Tommy couldn't speak. "No, I'm not going to do anything at all. Ann and her friends wanted to see you today, so I helped out."
That news somehow managed to unnerve Tommy even more than the mere thought of being Kenny's captive. What could Ann want with him?
She smiled sadistically. "You aren't going to wet yourself, are you, Baby? We couldn't have that. We just couldn't live with ourselves. Could we, girls?"
There was a chorus of snickers. Ann continued. "Let's make sure that Baby stays dry, all right?"
Suddenly ten pairs of arms swarmed over Tommy's prone body, and before he could even begin to fight, the girls had removed all of his clothing. He lay there in the hay, completely naked and defeated. A few of the girls laughed and pointed to his penis, which felt like it was shrivelling and moving indoors for the rest of the day.
From a backpack, one of the girls brought out several large white pieces of cloth. As four or five of them held him down, the others quickly and effectively pinned him into the diapers. Kenny and the boys stood back, laughing at the spectacle. Then Ann brought out some large, frilly plastic pants, pink ones with lace on the bottom. Tommy kicked and cried, but they were too much for him; he found himself lying there, diapered, swaddled within a pink lace covering, surrounded by his classmates, on the stable floor.
"There now, isn't that better?" asked Ann. Then she turned to the rest of the girls. "I think she'll be too cool like that, though, don't you?"
Tommy knew it was far from over. The tone of her voice convinced him that the day's humiliation was going to continue. And he had noted that Ann had called him "she."
The girls brought something else from the back pack, which one of them referred to as a "diaper bag." It was a large girls' playsuit, pink with little bows, in a style that most of those present had long outgrown. Tommy couldn't fight; he let them slip it onto his unprotesting body. Then one of them produced a baby bottle filled with water and sat down beside him on the hay, pulling him over onto her lap.
"Is Baby thirsty?" she asked.
There was no way out, and it didn't matter anymore anyway. He drank meekly from the bottle while Ann took photographs with a Polaroid. Everyone laughed, talking about what great fun it would be to show the pictures at school in the fall. Then the girl who had fed him suddenly pulled away in disgust.
"Yech!," she said. "She's all wet!"
Tommy was surprised to realize that he was indeed soaked. He had always realized before that he was desperately in need of a bathroom, but this time he had thoroughly wet himself without even being aware of it. The diapers had not held it in, and the girl who had fed him was all wet. Ann came over to him, speaking in the way one would talk to a baby.
"Does the baby need a change? Did Baby wet her diapers? Bad girl! And all over Susie, too. Well, we'll have to do something about that."
The girls descended on him again, pulled off the soaked diapers, and dried him with a towel that must have been in the backpack. Expecting a new diaper, Tommy was surprised to find himself thrust face down over the lap of the girl, Susie, who had fed him.
Ann's voice laughed somewhere above him as several hands held him down. "Go ahead, Susie; you teach her not to wet all over people."
Tommy felt the hard sting of Susie's hand on his bottom. He screamed and tried to pull away, but the girls held him tighter. Then more stinging slaps, as each of the girls took her turn spanking him. Then harder slaps added to the others, as the boys each got a turn. Finally, the only one left was Kenny.
"Well, Sissy, I guess we'll see you around." Kenny whacked Tommy several times, harder than any of the others, and then walked away. Some of them laughed as they walked out. Through his tears, Tommy realized that they were all going, that their fun was over. He waited on the stable floor, sobbing, until he knew that they all were gone, and then he got up, rubbing his red, sore bottom. He looked around the barn for his clothes, but they were nowhere to be found, and Tommy knew why they were laughing at the end. He had nothing at all to wear home except the pink playsuit. It was either that or ride home naked, with his red butt high in the air for everyone to see, since there was no way he could possibly sit down. Completely alone and broken, Tommy dressed himself in the playsuit and headed home, certain that everyone in town must be watching him.
The professor was through with the lesson. Somehow, Tommy had written several pages of notes, but he had no idea at all what might be on them. He did know that the earlier familiar feeling was still with him and getting stronger. He needed to go to the bathroom, and soon. Another problem to deal with. He waited until the room was almost empty and stood up, guiltily adjusting his crotch. For a moment, he thought no one could have noticed, but then he knew someone was outside of the window. He only caught a glimpse as she quickly moved away, but he knew instantly that it was the girl from the library. There was no way to catch her, and he had other concerns right now, so he quietly moved out into the campus morning.
Chapter Four : More About Jimmy
Every step was hard for him. Tommy walked slowly, determined not to wet himself, but with each passing moment he began to feel that the accident would be inevitable. He was sure everyone must know both his condition and his predicament.
After enduring taunts of "Sissy" and "Baby" for most of his life, he had looked forward to college far away, a place where finally he could escape his misery. How had things gone so completely wrong?
Dinner on the first night at his aunt's house had been, to say the least, interesting. As Chrissie had told him, Jimmy was fed first. Tommy watched intently as his fifteen year old cousin was strapped into a large high chair, tied into a bib with teddy bears on it, and subjected to having his little sister, Dana, spoon-feed him something that looked like mashed carrots.
"It's her turn tonight," Chrissie said. "We all take turns feeding him. I think Mother would let Dana do it all the time otherwise; it really humiliates him because she's younger. But I've always told her that I really want to, so she lets me. I don't, really, but I can't stand to add to his misery."
Tommy was beginning to understand that Chrissie was a special person, and he found himself attracted to her more and more. She didn't act like the beautiful girls he had known in school. She was sweet, sensitive, and thoughtful. He found himself almost admiring his cousin. Somehow, though, he felt that it would almost be worse for Jimmy to be babied by Chrissie than by Dana. Dana teased him and reminded him of the fact that he was fifteen and in diapers. Chrissie, in her effort to be nice to her brother, seemed to take her role more matter-of-factly. In changing him and feeding him and watching him with no taunting, she was responding to him not as a fifteen year old at all, but as if he were really a baby.
Jimmy's dinner was almost finished; Dana was cleaning him up. It appeared to Tommy that the boy was not allowed to do anything for himself during the meal; this seemed to be the rule. Jimmy sat there passively and Dana did everything for him.
"Why does he just take it like that?" he asked Chrissie.
"There's nothing he can do, and he knows it," she responded. "He tried to fight it when Mother first put him into the diapers, but he found out quickly that she meant business."
"What do you mean?"
"It didn't take long for everyone in school to realize that Jimmy was diapered; I mean his pants were so thick, and it always humiliated him. Especially when his diapers leaked between his legs after he was wet, because he wasn't allowed to change them himself. After a week or two, everyone knew; they all started teasing him, and he came home one day fighting mad. He tore off the diapers, yelling at Mother that she couldn't do this to him any more."
"Mother didn't yell back; she didn't argue. Jimmy didn't have any underwear, so he just put his pants back on without anything at all under them. He stayed that way all day long. That night, when he had fallen asleep, Mother went into his room. She tied his hands to the bed and then woke him up. Dana and I were in the next room, but we heard it all. She told him that he would never speak to her that way again or even think about disobeying her. Then she spanked him on his bare bottom; we could hear the slaps. He couldn't escape, and he screamed and cried for her to stop. Finally, she did. We heard him whimpering as she put new diapers on him.
Mother didn't untie Jimmy until morning, and he was very wet. When she changed his diaper, she did something else: while she was cleaning him, she slipped a suppository up his rear, giving him a small slap at the same time, a "reminder," she said, of what would happen if he ever took his own diapers off again. A couple of hours later, in math class, the suppository took effect. Jimmy couldn't hold it, and he just exploded into his diaper. He had to sit in the mess the rest of the day. Of course everyone knew. He hasn't so much as protested since."
Tommy turned into a wooded area near the main footpath. His bladder was about at the breaking point. He had read somewhere that a famous astronomer had actually died from holding his bladder: he held it back rather than get up from a king's banquet, and the thing burst. That's about what his felt like. There was no way to avoid the inevitable end of this struggle. Alone, he stopped beneath an oak and relaxed.
He felt the warm flow, as he had many times before. It seemed to take hours. When at last it stopped coming, he allowed himself to look down.
As wet as he knew he was, he looked dry from the outside. He blushed both at the wetness and the dryness. As he walked slowly on toward his next class, his very full diaper oozed between his legs.
Chapter Five: Baby Tommy
It had happened on the third night at his aunt's house. Tommy had tried everything he could to stay dry. He went to the bathroom far more frequently than he needed to. He hardly drank anything at all. He even set his alarm to go off (quietly) in the middle of the night, so he could empty his bladder before any kind of accident could occur.
From long history, though, he knew he would not get away with it for long. So when he awakened soaking wet on the third night, he was prepared. He had stashed some dry underwear and a towel in his nightstand; he would dry himself off, change his underwear, and put the towel beneath him for the night. The bed would dry during the day.
It all might have worked well, except for one thing. Tommy had not counted on the fact that Aunt Julia had placed one of those bed wetter alarms under his sheets. At first, he thought it was his own alarm, and in his confusion tried to turn it off. All he succeeded in doing was setting that alarm off too. As he danced around on his wet bed trying desperately to quiet the noise, the door opened. In the hall before him stood Aunt Julia, with Dana and Chrissie right behind her. Tommy knelt quietly on his bed, his soaked underwear and drenched sheets in plain view.
Aunt Julia walked over to the bed, reached down and found a switch, turning off the alarm. Then, without looking at Tommy or even acknowledging him, she reached past him and turned off the clock alarm as well. Then she turned back to the door.
"Chrissie," she said, "get me the things stacked on Jimmy's dresser."
Chrissie looked solemnly at Tommy, then left the room without a sound. Dana stood there, suppressing a giggle.
Tommy's confusion was dying down, but he could not tell what to expect. Aunt Julia did not seem upset or even surprised. He knew that he had not wanted this to happen, but now that it had he wished she would betray some kind of reaction.
He did not have to wait very long.
"Tommy," she said in a flat voice, "you should be ashamed of yourself."
"It was an accident," he stammered. "It won't happen again; it must have been something I ate."
She looked cross. "Don't ever lie to me, young man. You know as well as I that this is not the first time, and it will not be the last."
Tommy stared at her, unable to respond. How could she have known? Just at that moment, Chrissie appeared in the doorway with a pile in her hands. Tommy saw thick cloth diapers, large plastic pants, some kind of clothing, baby wipes, and diaper pins.
"Mother," she started to say, "Is this really necess…?"
"Yes." Aunt Julia cut her off, her voice deep and final. "This is what happens when people behave like babies." She turned to her nephew. "Tommy, when you came here, you agreed to live by the rules of this household. One of those rules, you must understand, is that we do not tolerate this kind of behaviour."
Tommy tried to interrupt. "I know, Aunt Julia, and I'm sor…"
"Sorry will not do it, Tommy. Young men who wet their beds are just overgrown babies, and they will be treated that way as long as they are in my house. Chrissie?"
She turned to her daughter, who grudgingly gave up the pile in her hands.
"Now," she said to Tommy, "take off those wet pants. Dana, you change the sheets. And put on the rubber one; your cousin evidently needs it."
Tommy stood there, unsure of what to do. He knew that he did not wish to take off his underwear with his two female cousins in the room.
"Now!" his aunt insisted. And Tommy began slowly slipping the wet underwear down his legs, acutely aware of Dana's smirking face as she pulled the rubber sheet onto the bed, and appalled by the thought of Chrissie seeing him in this humiliation.
His aunt took his underwear out of the room, leaving him standing, naked, next to the bed that his thirteen-year-old cousin was remaking as a baby's. Chrissie had not left the doorway. Aunt Julia reappeared as Dana pulled the draw sheet tight over the rubber one. Tommy blushed even more than he was already to note that the draw sheet Dana was using had little pink and purple bows on it.
"Lie down," Aunt Julia demanded. Tommy obediently stumbled onto the bed, feeling the too-familiar rubber sheet beneath the regular one. "Dana, get me the powder."
His aunt began to wipe his crotch with a few of the baby wipes. She then instructed him to lift his legs, which he did, not knowing what else he could do. She slid several thick cotton diapers under him. Dana returned with the powder, handed it to her mother, and waited.
"Do you want to do it?" Aunt Julia asked. Dana immediately shook her head yes. Chrissie, in the doorway, started to protest, but was quickly quieted by a glance from her mother. Dana took the powder back and shook some over Tommy's groin and rear, rubbing it in carefully. She smiled at her cousin.
"We don't want you to get a diaper rash, Tommy," she said.
This was too much for Tommy. Tears that had somehow failed to come before now flooded his face. He began sobbing and pleading.
"Please," he cried, "I'll do anything you want. Anything. Please don't do this. Please!"
Aunt Julia pulled the diaper up around his waist and held it there as Dana pinned it together with two pins shaped like yellow duckies. As she pulled the lace-fringed plastic panties up over the diapers, she said calmly, "Babies who wet their beds need to be in diapers."
She gave Tommy a pat on his thickly padded rear. "There, I think you'll be fine. Now, put this on."
Tommy stared at the clothing she was giving him; slowly he realized that it was an oversized cotton nightie in a style like a little girl might wear. He sobbed again, looking to Chrissie in the doorway for any help she could give. She turned her head. Unable to do anything else, Tommy drew the soft garment over his head and let it drape around his legs. His aunt looked at him in silence for a moment. Finally, she spoke. "I can hardly believe that I am going to have to deal with two babies. Now go back to sleep; we'll take care of you in the morning."
Aunt Julia and Dana left the room, turning off the light. Chrissie lingered a moment in the open doorway, then left, wordlessly, closing the door behind her.
Tommy lay in the dark, feeling the bulk of the diapers between his legs. He sobbed quietly, unsure whether the diapers themselves and the little pink nightie were more embarrassing or the fact that Chrissie had seen it all. In a little more than twenty minutes, he had been reduced to the same condition as his babified cousin Jimmy. The panties even had lace on them. He cried some more, remembering Dana's smirk and her remark about diaper rash.
Well, he determined, there will not ever be two babies in this house. This is the first night and the last. I'll never wet the bed again if I have to stay awake all night from now on! Slowly, though, he allowed himself to drift back to sleep.
Chapter Six: Morning Mistake
In the morning, Tommy awoke to discover that he was dry. Quietly saying a prayer of thanks, he slipped free of the diaper and panties and went off to the shower, hoping to clean himself off, have breakfast, and go off to his classes before anyone else got up.
After one of the fastest showers of his life, he towelled off and headed back to his room. Quickly he got dressed and went downstairs to the kitchen to grab a bagel or something. He was staring into an open cabinet when a sound behind him made him jump; he turned and saw Aunt Julia standing in the doorway, holding a diaper.
"What is this?" she asked almost emotionlessly.
He didn't know what to say. "It… uh… looks like a diaper."
His aunt frowned. "Yes, it does, doesn't it?" She moved slowly in his direction; there was suddenly something menacing about her. "Do you know where I found it?"
Tommy had a good guess, and he thought he would be better off if he said it than if he pretended not to know.
"In my room?"
His aunt laid the diaper on a counter. "Yes, Tommy, in your room. May I assume that this is the diaper that I pinned onto you last night?"
"Yes, Aunt Julia," he said, "I took it off to shower because, as you can see, I was dry this morning, and… "
"I told you not to remove it, didn't I?" she asked, cutting him off.
Her tone was becoming less and less friendly, and angrier. He felt suddenly guilty of something, but he wasn't sure what.
"Yes, Aunt Julia, but…"
"There are not 'but's,' Tommy. I told you not to remove it, and you deliberately removed it! Isn't that true?"
"I didn't think…"
"Isn't that true?" she repeated, and she stood waiting for an answer. Tommy realized that he could not escape this. He wilted.
"Yes," he said quietly.
Aunt Julia's expression softened a bit, and Tommy allowed himself a fleeting thought that perhaps all would be well after all, but it lasted only a moment.
"Tommy, I don't think you understood me last night," his aunt began. "Babies who wet their beds do not change their own diapers, they do not bathe or dress themselves, and they most certainly do not wear big boy underwear."
Tommy felt suddenly self-conscious, recalling Chrissie's face in the doorway and Dana's condescending tone. "I'm not a baby!" he protested.
"Did you wet your bed?"
He knew better than to try to argue. "Yes."
"Then you are a baby. Or do you know of many adults who do that?"
Tommy had no answer to that. He stood there, waiting for her to make the next move, dreading what it might be. She sat down in a chair by the breakfast counter.
"Take off those clothes," she said.
Sheepishly, he pulled down his pants and removed them, revealing his green undershorts. One quick glance told him that he wouldn't get away with that, and he slowly dropped them to the floor.
"Come here," she said firmly.
As slowly as he could move, Tommy walked toward his aunt. When he got near her, she reached out quickly and, in one deft move, had him lying face down over her lap. Before he could even react, the first crack struck him.
"Ow!" he wailed, flinching from the pain. She was using a spoon or a spatula or something; he couldn't see it, but it hurt. He tried to pull away, but she was holding him tightly; undoubtedly she had practiced this manoeuvre many times on Jimmy.
She continued to speak as she spanked him. "Don't you ever forget that you are living in my house, little boy. In my house, I am used to being obeyed."
Tommy's tears streamed down his face, and he screamed with every whack.
"Do not ever let me discover that you have disobeyed again, or your punishment will be much worse than a little spanking, I assure you."
He felt himself released, and rolled, crying, to the floor. This was a "little" spanking? He had not been spanked like this since he was a small boy.
"Now lie down. On the floor."
His throbbing buttocks told him he couldn't win, and he obediently laid himself down on the cold floor, shivering as he made contact. His eyes glanced up at his aunt as she replaced a large paddle on a hook near the sink. It looked as if it would hurt just about as much as it did. Aunt Julia instructed him to raise his legs, as she had last night, and he found himself being pinned back into the diapers. As she was finishing the second pin, Tommy saw Dana come into the room. She looked surprised only for a second.
"Changing the baby, Mom?" she asked.
He blushed; this was too much. Before he could say anything, though, Aunt Julia responded. "Little Tommy here apparently forgot that he was only a baby, and he has been thoroughly spanked for it. Please get me his plastic pants, Dana."
Tommy lay on his back, too embarrassed to move. Dana returned quickly with the same lacy panties he had worn to bed, and knelt beside him.
"It's all right," his thirteen-year-old cousin cooed. "This is just to help keep you nice and dry."
She slid the panties over his legs and tucked them carefully over his diapers. Then she and Aunt Julia pulled up his pants, and his aunt told him to get up.
"You'll be late if you don't get going," she said.
Surely she didn't mean for him to go out on the campus in diapers! Tommy looked down at his padded body; everyone would know, he thought. They'd have to know.
He pleaded with his aunt. "Aunt Julia, please don't do this. I'm eighteen years old, and I'm in college. I shouldn't be put back in diapers!"
She looked at him with that same emotionless expression.
"Yes," she said, "you're right. You shouldn't be wearing diapers. But you shouldn't be wetting the bed either. Now go to your classes, and don't even think of touching those diapers."
Tommy slipped out the door and into the early morning air. His diapers were so thick that he felt as if he was waddling. People were looking at him, he felt. People could see; they'd know. Everyone on campus would know that Tommy was wearing diapers.
How things had changed so quickly, he thought. He had come here to escape the taunting, and now his life was worse than ever. And it had all happened in the last twenty-four hours.
Tommy walked slowly back to the main path, his soaked diaper squishing between his legs. He needed a change badly, but his aunt had said not to dare. Resigned, he moved in the direction of her house, hoping she would be there.
Chapter Seven: Chrissie
"Aunt Julia?" he called, as he entered the house. "Aunt Julia?"
Chrissie walked into the room. "There's no one home but me," she said. "Dana is still at school, and Mom went to pick up Jimmy; I think she was going to take him to the park." She paused. "Sometimes she takes him there to play." Another pause. "You know, with the other babies."
Tommy had not expected this. He had assumed that Aunt Julia would be home and that she would be able to change his diapers. And the more he heard about how she punished her own son, the more he was certain he did not want to cross her in any way. But now he was desperate for a change, and he was not sure what to do.
His cousin watched him for a moment as he stood there, doing and saying nothing. Her eyes sunk to the extra padding he wore, which was now loosely hanging around his crotch. "You're wet, aren't you?" she said, matter-of-factly.
Sheepishly, he nodded. Chrissie was about the last person on earth to whom he wished to confide this information.
"Very wet?" she asked.
He felt his face turning many shades of red. Unable to find words, he simply nodded his head again.
Chrissie took a few quick steps across the room and took him by the hand. "It's all right," she said, "I can change you."
"No!" Tommy pulled away suddenly. Then, because Chrissie had obviously been shocked by the outburst, he added, more softly, "I mean, I'm OK; I can wait for Aunt Julia."
A smile briefly crossed Chrissie's face, but she swallowed it. Tenderly, she said, "You're embarrassed, I know; I can't expect you to be anything else. But you're soaked; I mean it's leaking through your pants. You really need a change."
For the first time, Tommy became aware of the wet spots that were growing on his jeans. They started just below the diaper's leg openings and spread out and up on his upper thighs; the plastic pants were certainly leaking. He thought about all of the people he had passed on the path from the campus; every one of them must have seen it too.
Chrissie must have been reading his mind. "It's OK; I'm sure no one else noticed. But we've got to get you out of those wet pants."
Tommy held his ground. "I--I can't," he said.
Chrissie smiled again, more gently and intentionally this time. She knew exactly what he was feeling, he was sure, but it didn't change anything. He couldn't go with her; he could deal with it from Aunt Julia, but not from Chrissie.
"Come on, Tommy," she said, trying again to take him by the hand. The movement felt exactly like an older sister pulling at her small brother's arm. "Mom will be furious if you get the furniture wet, and I'm not even sure what she'd do then. You've got to let me do this."
Tommy felt the tears welling up in his eyes again. His cousin saw them, and stopped her tugging. She reached up and dried his eyes with her fingers; he felt the softness of her hand on his skin. She looked sweetly and gently into his eyes, her firm hand preventing him from looking at the ground.
"Come on, Tommy," she said again, "it's all right."
He shook his head slowly, his tears rolling down his cheeks. "No," he said; "I'll wait."
She stood for a long time, as if debating something. Finally, she spoke. "Tommy, I've got to tell you something. After you left this morning, Mom had a talk with Dana and me. She said she does not want to be responsible for taking care of two babies."
Tommy blushed deeply at the word. She continued. "She said she has already got her hands full with Jimmy. She told us--she told us that we were in charge of you."
"What?" he cried, unsure of how to react. His mind whirled with thoughts of Dana's laughter and her comments while he was being diapered. He did not like the idea of his younger cousins being "in charge" of him, whatever it might mean.
Chrissie saw his confusion. "That's what she said, Tommy. And Dana started right away with plans for taking you and Jimmy both to the park, and even setting up a playpen in the yard when it is warm." She paused. "Dana thinks it's all a big joke, Tommy. But I want to try to make you as comfortable as possible. Won't you let me?"
He stood there, frozen, his sobbing growing more audible.
"Or," she said, "you can wait a little bit longer, and Dana will be home. I don't think she'll be as nice about it."
Almost imperceptibly, Tommy nodded, and through his tears he watched as Chrissie turned to go upstairs. "Come with me," she said.
They walked together up the stairs, and Tommy was surprised to see her turn to the right instead of left toward his room.
"Where are we going?" he asked.
She reached her hand toward Jimmy's door. "Mom moved your things in here during the day," she said quietly. "She said you ought to be with Jimmy in the nursery."
The nursery! Tommy stood in amazement as the door swung open, revealing what probably was the largest bedroom in the house. Facing each other, on opposite walls, were what appeared to be two oversized cribs. A second, closer look revealed them to be converted youth-sized bed; where Aunt Julia could have gotten them, he couldn't figure out. And how she had gotten a second one on such short notice-- Then he remembered the alarm under his sheets.
He turned to Chrissie. "She knew all along, didn't she?"
"Yes, Tommy. We all did. Mom prepared us for last night the first day we heard you were coming. Dana was really eager, Jimmy didn't seem to care at all, and I--I hoped that it wouldn't happen. When you got through the first couple of nights dry, I thought maybe Mom had been mistaken, but…"
Her voice trailed off, and Tommy began to realize the full extent of his fate. He looked around the room again. It was equipped with a low-lying, adult sized changing table complete with large stacks of diapers and plastic pants. There were baby toys in the cribs, and bottles on a shelf in the corner. Above them, another shelf full of stuffed animals smiled down at him.
Chrissie motioned him in. "Hurry up," she said. "Dana will be home any minute."
He climbed onto the changing table and lay down. Deftly, as one who has done this kind of thing before, Chrissie slid the plastic pants down his legs and off. She reached for the diaper pin; Tommy instinctively shied away. Firmly, she held him still while she undid the pin, removed the diaper and dropped it into a large diaper pail that he had not noticed before. He blushed even more when he noticed that it was one of two in the room, and it had his name stencilled onto its side. "Baby Tommy," it said.
Chrissie grabbed a new diaper from the stack and slid it beneath him. She wiped him off with baby wipes from a dispenser at the end of the table, pulled the new diaper up between his legs, and pinned it on. He saw that the pins had little balloons on them. She took out a new pair of plastic pants, green ones with no lace, and slid them onto his diapers, making sure that the leg openings were watertight.
"That ought to hold you," she said. "Let's go back downstairs."
Tommy balked. "What about my pants?" he asked.
Chrissie paused enough to make him sure he was not going to like the answer. "Mom said that, for the first two weeks at least, you are not to wear anything over your diapers in the house. She wants you to get used to them. I'd let you wear them, Tommy, but Dana will be home, and--"
"Why are you so concerned about her, Chrissie?" he asked. "I mean, you are older than she is. Can't you control her?"
Chrissie looked at her cousin, his body wrapped ridiculously in thick diapers, and only a t-shirt hanging loosely over them.
"Not in this, Tommy. I said that Mom had placed us in charge of you. That's not quite true."
"She said that I couldn't be trusted to treat you properly. She said I am getting too sensitive, that my reluctance doesn't help babies to grow up and become toilet trained."
Tommy winced again; the vocabulary here was getting really hard to take. Chrissie continued, "I'm only in charge when Dana is not home. Mom said that Dana is to be in charge of you while you are here. Dana will be your babysitter when she is home."
Tommy stared, aghast, and listened with Chrissie as the front door opened and his youngest cousin, now his babysitter, came home from school.
Chapter Eight : Dana
"Where is everyone?" Dana called from the kitchen. Tommy and Chrissie could hear the refrigerator door open and close.
"Chrissie? Jimmy? Tommy?"
She came out into the foyer just as they were descending the stairs. Chrissie came down first, followed by her cousin. Tommy's green plastic pants puffed out below his t-shirt; he wore nothing else. Dana looked up at him.
"Don't you look adorable!" she said in a baby-talk voice. "Those panties are so cute on you!"
Chrissie stopped in front of her sister. "Don't do it, Dana," she said. "He's embarrassed enough."
"You've got nothing to say about it," her sister answered. "Mom put me in charge of Tommy, not you."
Tommy stood on the stairs, listening to the argument. He was older than either of them, yet there they stood, debating which of them should be his babysitter. And the outfit he was wearing made their argument seem completely appropriate. His face grew redder by the minute.
Dana continued, "Just stay out of my way, Chrissie. I swear, if you interfere, I'll let Mom know, and you know what will happen then."
Chrissie looked away silently. There was a very slight blush on her cheek. She looked back at Dana. "Just try to be sensitive," she said, and walked away, leaving Dana and Tommy alone.
Dana looked up at her cousin, who was still standing frozen on the stair.
"Come on down, Tommy," she said. "Look what I've got for you."
For the first time, he noticed what she held in her hand: a large pink baby bottle. She held it out toward him. "I made you some nice juice," she said.
Tommy stared at Dana, her sweet-looking pubescent frame standing at the foot of the stairs holding a baby bottle for him to drink from. She was little more than a baby herself, he thought. Then he thought that this was going way too far.
"I'm not going to take that," he said.
"I said I'm not going to take that, Dana. I'm not a baby. I'm older than you are, and you can't order me around."
She stood quietly for a moment, her hand still outstretched with the bottle. Slowly, she lowered it, and walked off into the kitchen. Tommy couldn't believe it. For the first time since he had arrived, it seemed, he had actually won a standoff with someone in this house. Elated, he bounded down the stairs and into the living room to find Chrissie and tell her.
She had turned on the television and was sitting on the couch when he came in. He sat down beside her.
"I think it will be OK," he said.
"I told her off," he replied.
"You did what?"
"I told her off. I told her that I wasn't going to be babysat by someone five years younger than I am."
Tommy's smile began to melt as he realized that, for some reason, Chrissie did not share his elation.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"You shouldn't have done that, Tommy," she responded. "I'm afraid you might have made it worse."
Suddenly, Dana walked into the room. Tommy's eyes rooted immediately to the paddle she was carrying in her hand. She walked quickly to the couch; there was nowhere for him to go. Still, he thought, she's only thirteen and much smaller than I am; there's no way she can spank me.
Dana stopped within reach of Tommy. She looked sternly at him, then turned to her sister.
"Hold him," she ordered.
Chrissie hesitated only a second, then firmly grabbed onto Tommy and flipped him over onto his belly. He was too startled to offer resistance, and quickly she had him pinned.
"Chrissie" he cried.
"I'm sorry, Tommy," she said, looking away.
Dana knelt over him. "I'm sorry, too, Tommy, but you need to learn, as Chrissie already knows, that Mom's word is the final authority here."
Tommy felt his diapers and plastic pants come off, and then the crack of the paddle as it exploded on his rear. He cried out in pain; if anything, it was worse than the spanking he had received from Aunt Julia in the morning. Again and again, Dana smacked him, until he was convulsing with tears and sobbing uncontrollably. It took him several seconds to realize she had stopped.
His diapers were gently being pinned back on, and he saw through his tears that Dana was doing the pinning. She slid the plastic pants up his legs, as she had done in the morning. Then she sat next to him on the couch and very sweetly placed his tear- stained head in her lap. She held up the bottle again; as soon as he saw it, he began sobbing again, but he knew he had no choice. He took the offered nipple into his mouth and began to suck.
Chrissie got up from the couch and slowly left the room. Tommy saw her stop at the doorway and look at the picture she had left behind: her little sister holding a baby bottle for her older cousin, dressed only in diapers, to suck on. She shook her head and walked away.
Dana softly sang some kind of lullaby. Tommy finished the bottle, and she let him sit up.
"Do you understand, little Tommy, that I am your babysitter?" she asked.
"Good," she said. "I'll be very good to you as long as you obey me. But if we have any more trouble, I won't be as nice next time."
Tommy felt the burning on his buttocks, and he knew there would be no next time. This was to be his life from now on.
Chapter Nine: A Walk in the Park
Dana stroked his head gently.
"Now, Baby, I think we need to get you a bit of sunshine. Let's go see if we can find Mom and Jimmy; they must have gone to the park again."
Tommy stopped his rhythmic sucking, and looked up at his cousin with suddenly frightened eyes.
"No, Dana, please," he sputtered. "Let's just stay here."
She smiled. "Silly baby," she said. "You should know that being all cooped up inside isn't good for you."
She lifted his head from her lap, and gently wiped off his mouth. Tommy submitted meekly.
"Now, get up, little boy; we really need to get going if we are to find them."
She pushed him aside and went out into the foyer. Tommy sat rigidly on the couch, terrified of what was about to happen. It was one thing to wear diapers under his clothes while otherwise occupied with the daily routine of a college student; it was quite another to be taken for a walk to the park by his thirteen-year-old babysitter.
"Come on, Tommy!" she called from the hall.
He felt himself rise from the couch and started slowly walking out of the room. Dana stood in the doorway, holding a pair of pants and a light jacket.
"Here," she said. "You'll need these; it's getting a bit cool out there."
Grateful that she did not intend for him to go to the park in his green plastic pants, he quickly slid into the clothes she offered him, and followed her out thought he door. He had been out all day in diapers, but this felt completely different; Tommy felt that everyone would have to know this time.
Dana reached over and took his hand, and he instinctively shied away.
"Come on, Tommy," she said. "Babies can't walk down the street unless they are holding hands with someone. Now take my hand right now."
He felt the burning in his buttocks, and knew what would happen if he disobeyed. His fingers slowly curled about hers.
"That's better." They started walking down the street toward the park. Tommy felt the stares of everyone who passed them by, and he knew without looking that each of them was stopping or looking back at him after he had passed, incredulous at the big baby who was being taken to the park on a September afternoon. A little girl, no more than three, smiled at him as he passed her; perhaps, he thought, she sensed a kindred spirit.
"Ah, here we are." Tommy realized that they had reached the park. A quick glance around told him that it was not very full; there were some kids playing basketball at the other end, and a few people sitting on benches reading, and, at this end, a small playground. He thanked whatever was left of his good fortune that this was a town park; townies and college students rarely mixed, so he was very unlikely to run into classmates here.
A voice from across the playground called out, "Dana, honey, we're over here."
He saw Aunt Julia sitting at a bench with a book. In front of her, sitting in the sand, was Jimmy. He was digging with a group of children, helping them to build castles. Tommy was led over to them. Dana and her mother exchanged hellos, and his aunt looked at him closely.
"I see little Tommy came out to play with his cousin," she said, pointedly. "Go play in the sandbox, dear, while Dana and I have a nice chat."
Tommy stood momentarily still, but sharp memories of earlier in the day told him what he had to do, and he sat down next to Jimmy in the sand. The cousins did not look at each other for quite a while. The other children left them alone, and they simply sat there, silently scratching in the sand. Finally, Jimmy spoke.
"I'm sorry she got you, too," he said.
Tommy looked up and clearly saw his cousin for the first time. Jimmy was wearing red pants, which Tommy could see had snaps at the crotch. His shirt was flannel, with a subtle pattern in it, which was hard at first to ascertain, but which turned out to be teddy bears. He had a light yellow jacket over it, but it was open. Tommy looked at his own clothes, which were perfectly normal except for the bulge beneath the pants, and wondered whether he too would suffer the same fate.
"Jimmy," cried his aunt's voice behind him. "Come here, honey; let me check to see if you need a change."
His cousin rose and left the sandbox. My God, Tommy thought, surely not right here, right in the middle of the park. But his aunt slipped her fingers into Jimmy's waistband and shook her head. "Oh dear," she said. "We have been out here quite a while, haven't we?"
She motioned to the bench, and, blushing, he lay down upon it. Tommy watched as she unsnapped his pants and pulled down his pink plastic pants. She unpinned the wet diaper, powdered him, and quickly pinned on a new one. Then she pulled up the plastic pants and resnapped the red outer ones, sending him back to the sand. As Jimmy sat down again, Tommy saw the tears in his eyes.
"Tommy, it's your turn," he heard his aunt call. His face blushed deeply, but he knew he was dry, so it was not going to be a problem. Still, he saw the eyes of the little children at the other side of the playground, which had watched the spectacle of Jimmy being changed, now fall upon him as his aunt slipped her fingers into the bands of his diaper.
"You're fine," she announced, patting his rear. "Go back and play for a while."
Silently, because neither of them knew what to say, Jimmy and Tommy sat digging in the sand. Finally, mercifully, Dana called to them that it was time to go home.
As they left the park, Tommy thought he recognized someone lurking over by the swings. A familiar pastel sweater caught his eye, but then disappeared into a group of young kids. It was her; he knew it. She was there. She had seen; she knew. But who was she, and why was she watching him?
Chapter Ten: Going Home
Tommy walked toward home, his hand firmly held by Dana, his mind focused on the mysterious girl. As he walked, though, he became aware something new, an urging from his bowels which was, at first, simply annoying, but with each step grew in urgency.
Still several blocks from home, he suddenly knew with horror that he would never make it. He tried to slow his pace but Dana kept pulling him forward. Finally, he simply stopped.
"Come on, Tommy," she said. "We've got to get home."
Aunt Julia and Jimmy turned to look at him. His face was tear-stained.
"Dana, I've got to get to a bathroom, and I don't know if I can make it."
She let go of his hand. "Babies don't use bathrooms, Tommy. You know the rules."
He clenched his legs tightly together. "This isn't funny, Dana," he said. "I've got to--" He fought for the words. "I've got to shit badly."
Her face turned harsh, and he immediately corrected himself. "I mean I've got to go pooh-pooh." She smiled at the correction, and looked at her mother, but said nothing. Suddenly, Tommy's body was wrenched by a terrible spasm, and he doubled over, his bowels exploding into the diaper. His face reddened with the pressure of the expulsion; he found himself squatting in the middle of the sidewalk, pushing with all of his might against something he could not control. Then, just as suddenly as it had come on, the pains stopped, and Tommy stopped pushing.
He could not believe what had just happened. He had wet himself all of his life, but nothing like this had ever happened before. He felt the weight of the messy diaper dangling between his legs. He wanted to hide; he wanted to run
He felt the weight of the messy diaper dangling between his legs. He wanted to hide; he wanted to run away and cry.
Dana, Aunt Julia, and Jimmy looked down at Tommy, still crouching low on the sidewalk, afraid to move in case he should make the mess worse.
Aunt Julia turned to her daughter, inquisitively.
Dana responded to the look. "I had to spank him," she said, "because he was being disobedient. I used one of Jimmy's suppositories as I was re-diapering him. Actually, I'm surprised it took this long."
Jimmy looked away. Aunt Julia smiled at Dana's revelation. "Well, honey; you'll have to change him, you know. But if you thought it was necessary, I'm sure you did the right thing."
Tommy suddenly cramped again, filling his already full diaper even more. He began to understand what had happened, but he still couldn't move. Tears ran down his face as the odour of a messy baby wafted through the air.
"Come on, Tommy," Dana said. "There's a bench over here; we'd better get you changed right away before you leak all over."
She led him to the side of the walk, where there was a wooden bench with no back.
"No," he said. "Please, no. I can make it back home. Please."
She held him firmly. "Don't be silly. You're a mess; you might get sick, and anyway if you make any more pooh-pooh, you'll overflow the diaper. We've got to do it now."
She pushed him down onto the bench and pulled off his pants. "It's OK, Mom," she called, "you go on home with Jimmy; I'll be right there."
She pulled down Tommy's plastic pants. "Oh my God," she said. "I must have overdosed you."
Tommy's diapers came off, and he heard Dana scrounging in the diaper bag she had been carrying for her mother. She pushed the diaper up between his legs, carefully wiping him with it. Then, folding it down on itself, she wiped his rear with several baby wipes before putting a new diaper beneath him and pinning it on. She placed the messy one into a plastic bag.
"Good thing we have a few of these in here," she said, "but I'm not really sure I got you completely clean. We'll have to give you a good bath when we get home."
Tommy thought he had understood the extent of his fate before. It was beginning to dawn on him that he might have many more surprises in store.
Chapter Eleven: In the Square
Tommy found himself in the square outside of the English building, in the middle of a throng of people--students passing between classes, herds moving in unison toward designated destinations. He stood on a bench, heedless of who might notice him, straining to find her sweater in the crowd. He searched in every direction, peering intently through the masses, but there was no sign of her; she had vanished yet again. Defeated, he climbed down slowly.
There were only two other people left in the square; where had the others gone? How long must I have been up there? he wondered. The two remaining students were staring at him oddly. Well, why not? he thought. I must look pretty weird up on that bench; I almost fell twice. And for what? Trying to find a girl I don't even know, like some high school geek.
The two students continued to stare as Tommy turned to leave the square. He tried not to regard them too closely, afraid to draw any additional attention on himself. One was taller than the other; although he could not see their faces, there was something familiar about them. As he started past them, the taller of the students darted a hand out to him, catching him rudely by the shoulder. Shocked, Tommy whirled around, but not in time to prevent the shorter one from grabbing him too, and throwing him to the ground.
"What do you want?" he yelled at his assailants. "Who are you?"
Someone's foot planted itself on top of him, pinning him to the ground. As the two laughed at him, Tommy strained to get his eyes upward, desperately trying to discover their identities, which he somehow was certain he would recognize.
"Who are we?" the taller one said. "Sissy doesn't know who we are! Isn't that just the funniest thing?"
"We could show her, Kenny," the smaller one replied in a high-pitched voice.
Tommy's mind whirled backwards to grade school, staring into those eyes that had taunted him, that face that had revelled in making his life miserable. It was not possible. Kenny? Here?
Kenny's evil eyes slowly glided downwards over Tommy's body, pausing to peruse the bulk at the top of his pants. He smiled broadly.
"Looks like baby has wet herself, Dana," he said, pointing at a large wet spot that Tommy had not even noticed. Dana too? With Kenny? It couldn't be! But it was definitely his babysitter's voice. "Maybe she should get her diaper changed." The two of them pulled Tommy over onto a bench and began working to unfasten his pants.
Finally recovered from his shock, Tommy swung at them wildly and cursed loudly, but the two attackers laughed louder. A small crowd appeared from nowhere, and Tommy suddenly realized that it was growing wildly, as first dozens and then seemingly hundreds of faces watched from a short distance while Kenny and Dana managed to get Tommy's pants around his ankles. In the bright light of the morning square, Tommy lay on the bench outside the English Department, his bulging and sodden pink plastic pants were revealed to the entire crowd.
"I knew it!" yelled Kenny in triumph. "I knew you were still a baby!"
Dana looked at him scoldingly. "Look how wet you are, Tommy," she said. "You need a change badly." For the first time, Tommy became aware of the oversized diaper bag lying at her feet with "Baby Tommy" stencilled on it. She opened it and pulled out fresh diapers.
"No," he cried. "Not here, please! These are my classmates!" But the crowd was already watching with keen interest, and some were jeering. A chant of "Baby, Baby" reached him from some of those gathered. Tommy began to cry, at first quietly and then, giving in to the horror of the moment, he broke down sobbing.
Dana quieted his crying by sticking a pacifier into his mouth, and then she and Kenny pulled down his pink plastic pants and unpinned his diaper. A cheer welled up from the crowd. As the clearly soaked garment was removed, Kenny held Tommy's legs up so that another fresh one could be placed under him. Dana powdered him and pinned the new diaper on and pulled the plastic pants back up; Kenny watched as Tommy sucked violently on the pacifier, completely humiliated.
"Just like the good old days, right, Sissy?" he laughed.
Dana zipped the diaper bag closed. "Now don't forget to come home after class for a fresh diaper. You'll need one, I think. I've given you another little helper." Tommy winced, remembering yesterday and the horrifyingly messy diaper. ""It should take effect sometime during your next class, Baby," Dana said. "And two more things: don't even think about missing it, and don't take that pacifier out of your mouth until you get home. "I'm the only one who is to remove it. Do you understand?" Tommy nodded his head slowly.
The crowd roared its approval. Tommy whirled around. Lying on the bench, suddenly without either Dana or Kenny, he saw only the faces of the watchers, closing in around him, jeering at him. And then, suddenly, in their midst, he saw her. She must have come back in all of the commotion. And he watched her eyes as she saw his condition, and all he could see was the disgust. She turned and stepped back into the crowd. He wanted to call out after her, but his pacifier wouldn't allow it.
Everyone was laughing. Even she was laughing. His English professor called out to him from a window, taunting, yelling something about putting in a playpen for him in the classroom. He was still violently sucking, but the pacifier was gone; in its place was a giant bottle full of milk, and Dana was holding it for him. She seemed so tall! And Kenny was sitting next to her, his enormous hand reaching out to cluck Baby Tommy under the chin.
He tried to scream, but all he could get out was a high-pitched wailing exactly like a baby's cry. They were in a room like a nursery, and she held him to her shoulders and patted him gently on the back, and his burp made Kenny laugh.
Then they were gone. He stared at the ceiling, confused for a moment before he realized. Just a dream, he said aloud. Just a dream. He trembled a bit as the memory started to fade. In the weak light of an early morning sun, Tommy turned his head to the side and looked out through the bars of his crib at the room around him.
It wasn't all a dream.
Chapter Twelve: Morning Nursery
Shaking off the last vestiges of his dream, he stared at the ceiling above his crib. His crib. The upright bars slowly came into focus, and beyond them the rest of the room, including Jimmy's crib lying on the opposite side. He had no idea where Aunt Julia had found these things; what did it really matter? Jimmy was still asleep; he slept curled up, his knees pulled into his chest, his thumb inserted into his lips--Tommy could not see very clearly, but it appeared as if Jimmy was actually sucking it. Is this what happened after this treatment? Was he looking at his own future?
Tommy's eyes pulled back into his own crib, and he saw it more clearly. The sheet was patterned in little pastel balloons, and there were several small stuffed animals lined up on one side. The bars were white, as were the walls, and the crib was lying against a wall on one side. A mobile with butterflies dangled overhead. Lying there beneath his fluffy blue sheet, he thought about what else he would see if he pulled it back: his own body in ridiculously babified condition. The oversize sleeper with Winnie the Pooh on it zipped up the back; he couldn't take it off if he wanted to. Memory of the spankings he had received the day before, though, made that desire unlikely.
As he contemplated the rubberised feet of the sleeper, he realized for the first time that he was wet. There was no puddle in the bed, and there was no smell--two things he had come to associate intimately with awakening wet--but he knew he was wet anyway; he could feel the bulk of the wetness around his groin. This morning, though, the wetness was held in by the diapers thickly wrapped around his body and the plastic pants (which, he blushed to recall, were pink) that contained them.
An image of Dana the night before suddenly came into his mind: Dana in a green nightie bending over him, her thirteen-year-old body not yet mature enough for the maternal duties she was carrying out, smiling as she pinned his diaper on him.
"There, now," she had said. "You'll be nice and dry tonight. No wet beds for my baby."
And he had known as she pulled the plastic pants up that she had put extra thick diapers on him; he could not even close his legs. They hung there, distant from each other, not in sync, like a baby's. And this morning, as he lay there thinking about his state, trapped in the wetness of his shameful condition, he saw those legs as foreign, not belonging to him. He tried to imagine that this was not happening, even though he knew it was. And the more he imagined, the more the room came into view: cribs, changing table, diapers, toys, diaper pails: this was a nursery, and it was his.
The door suddenly opened and Dana, still in the green nightie from last night, strolled in. No knocking or announcements; who knocks on the door of a nursery?
She came over to the crib. "Oh, I see you're up," she said. "Are you all wet?"
He did not reply right away, but the remembered sting of her paddle told him that he should.
"Yes," he said slowly and quietly without looking at her.
She stopped for a minute. "I want you to address me properly as your babysitter," she said. "Say 'Yes, Dana.' And," she added quickly, sensing his displeasure, "be glad I don't make you say 'Mommy.'"
He winced. "Yes…Dana," he said.
"Yes, I'm wet," he responded, defeated.
Dana smiled, satisfied for the moment. "Well, we can't have you getting a rash now, can we? Let's get you changed."
She lowered the side of the crib and slid the mobile out of the way. Unzipping his sleeper, she removed it from his legs and exposed his diapers. Deftly, she pulled down the plastic pants. "Ooh," she said, "you really are wet! You wet a lot more than Jimmy does."
Tommy blushed. He glanced over to see that his cousin was no longer asleep, but was lying still, watching his diaper change.
Dana unpinned the sodden diaper and slid a clean one beneath Tommy. Then she spread something on his rear. Sensing the odd movement, and remembering her trick from yesterday, he flinched.
"No, no," she laughed; "this isn't another suppository. I'm just rubbing some diaper rash lotion on you; you're all red and chafed after those horrible messy diapers yesterday."
He thought about being changed on the bench on the street, with anyone who wanted to see watching him. The horror of it all only now seemed clear, and its reality worse than any nightmare: he was eighteen years old, lying on a bench in a messy diaper, changed by his prepubescent cousin in full view of anyone passing by.
Dana pulled a clean pair of plastic pants (white this time, he noticed gratefully) over his diapers and helped him to sit up, sliding his feet over the edge of what was really a youth-sized bed fitted with crib-like side-rails. She pulled the sleeper over his arms and off, and followed it with the oversized one-piece underwear she had put on him yesterday. Replacing it, she snapped it beneath his legs and pulled on an outfit: nothing too baby-like, he noticed, just some shorts and a nondescript top. Maybe, he thought, maybe she'll treat me well after all.
"Come one, Dana; he'll be late." Chrissie was at the door, coming in to get Jimmy up.
"OK," she said; "he's ready."
Neither one of them spoke to him; they just talked about him as if he were not there. Or as if he were just a baby.
Downstairs, Tommy sat next to Dana, who supervised his breakfast as Chrissie spooned Cheerios into Jimmy's mouth. Aunt Julia smiled at him.
"How's my new baby?' she asked. He blushed again. "Is he being good, Dana?"
"Yes, Mother," she said. "Tommy's a very good little baby."
As he walked out the door toward the campus and his classes, practically waddling in his thick diapers, Tommy couldn't remember any of the visions that had haunted his sleep, but he realized that his hopes of getting past this waking nightmare had ended yesterday. No longer could he pretend he might be allowed to be a man; now all he was left to hold onto was the fervent prayer that he would never be like Jimmy, reduced to high chairs and wearing frilly girls' clothes and sucking his thumb.
"Have a nice day, Tommy." Dana called from the doorstep.
He hesitated for a brief moment before answering.
"Yes, Dana," he said, and walked off toward campus.
Chapter Thirteen: Back To Class
Tommy took a seat in the back of the lecture hall and immediately buried his face in his notebook, hoping to avoid everyone else in the room. His dry but bulky diaper pinched his legs, a constant reminder of his condition. And each time he moved, the crinkling sound of the plastic pants advertised that condition to the world.
The professor began his presentation. Vaguely, Tommy's pen made notes about Blake and the Songs of Innocence. Far off, he heard the professor reading:
"Little lamb, who made thee? Dost thou know who made thee?"
Nursery rhymes. Or at least the sound and rhythm of nursery rhymes. Even here, in his college classroom, events were conspiring to treat him as a baby. Dana's face at the door floated in front of him, taunted him. "Who made thee?" He felt his diapers' bulk again against the chair. Clearly, she had made him, at least made him what he was now. And Aunt Julia, and even Chrissie. He replayed the events of the past few days. Yes, they had made him what Kenny had said he was all along..
His pen had stopped writing, and the hall was emptying. He stirred to move, and realized, shocked, that he was wet. Not very wet, just a little, but he had felt nothing, no warning, no pressure, not even the faintest clue that he needed to wet; nor had he even realized it as it was happening. What the hell was going on?
As he gathered his books together and rose from his seat, he felt her gaze upon him. Quickly he looked up, and saw her: the same girl that he had seen yesterday, both in class and at the park, the girl from the library, the girl, he suddenly remembered, from his dreams. The girl who had dropped the diaper pin.
She saw him look at her and instinctively turned away. Swinging her pack over her shoulders, she moved up the aisle toward the door, and toward Tommy's position in the room. As she walked past him and out the door, her clothing caught his attention: as she had yesterday, she was wearing sweet, youthful pastels in childlike patterns. Her skirt rustled gently as she passed, its soft layers swinging freely as she moved through the doorway.
Tommy's head was swimming: could it be possible? Completely disregarding his own wet and crinkling state, he flew out the door after her. He knew that he might have to reveal himself, but he also knew that he had to find out.
Chapter Fourteen: Discoveries
He found himself in the square outside of the English hall. Students were rushing everywhere; where had she gone? Feeling a sense of de ja vu that made him shiver, he climbed onto a bench, not really caring at that point if he was fully exposed, not even caring if Kenny might suddenly appear and degrade him. He had to find her.
From the top of the bench, he could see her pastel sweater mingling with the steady stream of bodies flowing away from the square. He leapt from his perch and moved swiftly through the crowd, weaving and bobbing in its flow until he could see her; then he slowed down and kept pace. Aware of his damp condition, he sneaked a glance down, his hand surreptitiously sliding along his legs and bottom, but he could not really tell if there was a leak anywhere. He didn't think he was all that wet anyway.
The girl turned off of the walk, heading to the main street. A local girl, he thought. Or at least she lives off campus. That explained her presence at the park. Tommy stayed several hundred feet behind her; he did not want to scare her off again. The girl moved down the tree-lined side street purposefully and with some urgency: Tommy could guess at its source. If I'm right, he thought. If.
Suddenly, she stopped. Tommy was just at a corner and across the street, and even if she had turned around, he didn't think she could tell who he was with the cars and the trees between them. He stayed to one side, though, just in case, and watched her. She looked around her, from one side to the other, and vanished abruptly into some bushes. Tommy's heart pounded more rapidly. Forcing himself not to run, he moved down the walk toward where she had disappeared. It was not a pathway; that he could see. It was simply a little park on the roadside, like a vacant lot decorated nicely for the people who lived nearby to enjoy. It was surrounded by the fences of those houses which surrounded it, and this road was the only side open. As he approached slowly, Tommy searched its expanse for her but he saw nothing.
She came out so suddenly that it startled him, and he barely had time to duck into a shadow. She turned in the same direction she had been moving before, and walked on down the street. Lagging behind, Tommy could see that her movement was laboured now, as if she were very uncomfortable. As if…
She opened a gate and walked into a yard. The door opened.
"Mandy!" a dark haired man called from the doorway. "Why are you so late?"
She moved awkwardly down the path to her door. "I'm sorry, Daddy; class got out later than I thought it would, and--"
He stopped her with a hard stare. There was a moment of silence. When he spoke, it wasn't really a question. It was an accusation. "You didn't make it, did you?"
She hung her head.
"Get in this house right now, little girl, and go to your room."
"But Daddy, I need--"
"I know what you need, Mandy. You need a spanking." He glared at her. Tommy shivered from two houses away. "But not now. Now you will go upstairs like I told you. And don't you dare try to change. You can just sit in it for awhile."
She walked defeated into the house, and he slapped her across the bottom as she passed him. Glancing down the street into the calm of an autumn afternoon, his eyes briefly met Tommy's as they passed before he closed the door.
Chapter Fifteen: Baby Mandy
Tommy could hardly contain his excitement. He barely even noticed the fact that he was wetting himself as he stood there, entranced by what he had just seen. There was no possible doubt, no other explanation for what he had seen and heard: Mandy was a baby too.
It all fit: the diaper pin, the girlish clothing, the rustling sound, even the brief detour into the bushes so that no one would see her crouch down to fill her diaper! And the awkward, almost limping gait after she emerged, he thought: it must be really uncomfortable to walk like that. A sudden, horrible thought entered his mind: if he did not get home soon, he would probably find out!
But before he went home, he had to know more. Staying across the street, he eased himself closer to Mandy's house. He could see, just a bit, into her back yard, and he could tell that her family didn't treat all of its children harshly. Her younger brothers or sisters had plenty of toys scattered about the yard: doll carriages and swings and big rubber balls to bounce on. He couldn't see what lay behind the house, but the yard seemed made to play in, a virtual paradise for a five or six-year-old.
He kept walking past the house, not wishing to be seen spying, and he almost ran into the boy going the other way.
"Hey, look where you're walking," the other boy said.
Tommy stopped, apologetic. "Sorry," he said, and moved past, stopped only by the voice behind him.
"What were you looking at, anyway?"
"Nothing," he replied. Then he realized that this boy might be able to tell him something. He turned around. The boy was about fifteen. He wore a light jacket with a logo on it, and a baseball hat, turned the wrong way, upon his head. He was clearly a neighbourhood kid. Tommy swallowed hard. "I was just wondering about the girl who lives there," he said.
The boy grinned. It was a nasty grin, Tommy thought, more of a smirk, really. "Oh, you mean Baby Mandy."
Tommy nearly fell over; it was all he could do to contain his excitement. Forcing himself to seem calm and merely inquisitive, he asked, "Baby Mandy? No, um, I mean the girl who attends the college."
The boy laughed. "That's who I mean. It's what we call her around here."
"Why?" Tommy asked.
"Because that's what she is. She's eighteen years old and still in diapers. Her father never lets her hide it; she's always out in the yard wearing just the diapers and nothing else, all summer. All her clothes look like baby clothes too. She was in my brother's class at the high school last year. He says she's bright, but I don't know. I just kind of ignore her."
Tommy knew he was wetting himself again, and he only hoped that this boy couldn't tell. "What about her family?" he asked. "Do her brothers or sisters wear diapers too?"
The boy shook his head. "She doesn't have any brothers or sisters," he said.
Tommy's head swam. "But there are toys and things all over her yard."
"They're hers. Her father makes her stay out in the yard a lot when he's got girlfriends over. He's not married anymore, but there's lots of ladies that come by. Most we never see twice."
"No one else lives there?"
"Nope. Just Baby Mandy and her dad. They're pretty much the neighbourhood weirdos," he added, as he turned to go.
Tommy turned again toward the house, just in time to see the sudden movement of a curtain in a front upstairs window.
Chapter Sixteen: Another Fine Mess
Had she seen him? He wanted to think she had, although he was not certain she would want him to have seen her under those circumstances. Anyway, there wasn't time right now to wonder about it. All Tommy could think about was getting home, and getting there before he exploded.
Two blocks from Mandy's house, though, he began to think that this particular goal was unachievable. As unthinkable as it seemed, he did not think he could make it! The pressure in his bowels was simply too great. He slowed his walk in an attempt to alleviate the cramping, but it was no good. He shifted his weight, altered his gait, tried everything he could think of, but nothing seemed to work; the cramping and pain simply increased. This could not be happening, he thought, half expecting to awaken from another nightmare. But this was no dream, and he knew it. Not even halfway home, and in intense discomfort, he knew the fight was over.
A bush on the side of the road was all he could find to hide his shame as he doubled over and filled his diaper. The pressure was so strong that his excrement had liquefied, and he felt his diaper sag with the thick, viscous weight. When he was through, when there was simply no more to push out, Tommy remained crouching behind the bush, stunned and in tears. What was going on? This time he knew there had been no suppositories, no laxatives. He should have been fine, and yet the warm slimy feeling in his diaper and the odour that permeated the air around him attested to the fact that he was not fine. Humiliated, Tommy cried quietly.
"Are you all right?"
The voice shocked him, a small female voice, friendly, motherly, the kind that should belong to someone's kindly old aunt. Tommy had no kindly old aunt, though, and the young one he was living with had done this thing to him.
"I said 'Are you all right?'" the voice repeated.
He rose slowly, trying not to move the diaper or its contents, trying not to stir the air with the odour. She was a middle-aged woman, greying but not yet grey, wearing a very plain dress. She was pushing a small cart with some groceries. The look on her face was one of deep concern.
"You seem very uncomfortable, and you have been crying, haven't you? Do you need some help?"
Tommy didn't move. He couldn't. He knew instinctively that any movement he could make would surely give him away. The friendly woman stood there waiting for the movement he could not begin.
"You don't need to worry," she said softly. "It's OK." She stepped toward him suddenly, abandoning her grocery cart. He could not move to pull away, and she was there in the bush with him. "You definitely need a change, though."
Tommy's face turned deep crimson. "Wh-what do you mean?" he stammered, even though he knew it was ridiculous. Anyone within a block must be able to smell it, and she was right next to him.
"You know what I mean, young man," she said. "I saw how you were walking, and I saw you go into this bush, and I know you are a very messy boy."
He blushed even deeper; it had not occurred to him that people might really be able to tell; he had believed that this was only paranoia on his part. But this woman knew. For the first time, his eyes darted to his surroundings. A couple on a bench across the park. Many people walking on the sidewalks. Open windows on nearby houses. How many others could tell?
She spoke again. "Don't you think we should get you home" she asked sweetly, as if she were talking to a baby. He nodded slowly, and she put out her hand to him. With great care, he started to move, his heavy diaper sloshing against him with every excruciating step. She walked with him in silence for a while, letting him lead the way. When they were close to his aunt's house, she suddenly stopped.
"You're staying with Julia Wright, aren't you?"
Tommy was surprised. "Yes," he said. "How did you know?"
She smiled softly. "I know Julia," she said. "I live next door. And I know what happens to children in her house. But she's a good person; you mind her."
Tommy had no intention of doing anything else; the spanking in the kitchen had been one too many. Suddenly the door to his house flew open and Dana came running out. She called his name as if she were calling a little brother for supper. As she approached, she saw who he was with and smiled.
"Oh, hello, Mrs. Parsons. I see you've met Tommy."
Mrs. Parsons said her hello, and then her face betrayed her concern. "I met him over on Woodland Ave. I'm afraid he's a bit…messy," she said. "He seems a bit embarrassed about it; I can't say I blame him."
Dana smiled again. "Tommy's a new baby, Mrs. P. He'll get used to it. Come on, Tommy; we've got to get you cleaned up and fed." She held out her hand expectantly. Tommy hesitated only for a moment.
"Yes, Dana," he said, and he took her hand. She called her goodbyes to her neighbour as she led him into the house.
Chapter Seventeen: Chrissie Again
The fresh diaper felt great, even if the fact of his having been cleaned and changed by his thirteen-year-old cousin was a bit much to take. He marvelled at how quickly he had become used to it, how easily he seemed to have accepted a clean diaper as a positive thing.
Dana dressed him only in a t-shirt, and pulled pink plastic pants over his new diapers.
"Why pink, Dana?" he asked. "Can't I wear green or blue?" Again, he was struck by how far his goals had fallen. Just to keep out of pink, that now seemed enough.
She shook her head. "You've been a bad boy," she said. "Mrs. Parsons said you had messed yourself on Woodland Ave. But what were you even doing on Woodland? You were supposed to come straight home after classes."
He started to explain, but something told him he was better off letting it go. She didn't seem very angry at him; who knows how she would react if she knew about Mandy.
Dana held out her hand, and Tommy accepted it. She led him down to the dining room, where the others were already gathered around the table: Chrissie and Aunt Julia and Jimmy, the latter strapped into his high chair. But the thing that drew Tommy's attention most was the fact that, next to Dana's empty spot, a second, identical high chair stood, obviously waiting for him. Instinctively, he pulled back.
"Get in, Baby," Dana snapped at him. Aunt Julia, who had not even acknowledged his presence, shot a quick glance at him, but it was long enough to carry the threat of the paddle. He climbed into the high chair, and Dana fixed a bib around his neck and slid the tray into its place in front of him. Tommy looked to Chrissie for help or moral support, but every time she seemed on the verge of saying something, her mother caught her eye and she said nothing to him. She simply carried on the conversation she was having with her mother before he had arrived.
Throughout the meal, Jimmy and Tommy were hardly acknowledged. Aunt Julia fed Jimmy and Tommy allowed Dana to feed him the simple meal in front of him, but neither of the boys seemed to be a part of the conversation. Dana would say things to him in a fake baby talk as she spooned the cereal from his bowl into his mouth, but her comments were mostly limited to "open wide" and "good baby" and things of that nature. Tommy spent his meal watching Jimmy, who seemed oddly indifferent to the fact that he was seated in a high chair wearing thick diapers under a frilly baby dress and was being spoon-fed baby food by his mother. He simply opened his mouth when the spoon came up; he never said a word or looked as if he thought that anything was out of the ordinary. Tommy pondered this acquiescence, hoping that it was not where he was heading, as Dana shovelled another spoonful of cereal into his mouth.
The family room was littered with Jimmy's baby toys, and Tommy sat among them on the floor, dully playing with various blocks and rattles, following Dana's orders. He had homework to do, but she didn't seem to care about that, even though she too had to do homework; she had left him with Chrissie, who sat quietly watching him.
Tentatively, she started to speak. "I know this is hard for you," she began.
He continued fingering the Lego in his hand, without looking up. "Yes," he said, "but I'm frightened tonight that I may be getting used to it."
"But that's good," she replied.
"No! I don't want to get used to it. Ever. I don't know what's happening to me." He looked more intently at the floor. "Today I messed my diaper," he said quietly. "I didn't even have any drugs or anything. I just don't know what's happening." His eyes were pools of tears. Chrissie was suddenly sitting on the floor with him, her arms around him.
"It's OK," she said. "It will be all right."
The words were empty, and he felt that she knew it. Her eyes drifted to the pink plastic panties that he was wearing. "Tommy," she asked, "is Dana punishing you for something?"
He nodded. "I was on Woodland Ave. without permission," he said. "She wanted me to come straight home. I thought she was going to spank me again."
"She might have. Why would you run such a risk?"
He wanted to tell her. He felt the need to tell her, to tell someone. And something in her eyes told him that it would be fine, that she really could be trusted to keep a secret. He certainly did not want Dana to know.
"I followed a girl there from school. She lives on Woodland."
Chrissie looked far away all of a sudden. Her eyes seemed focused on something distant, some image she fought against but could not resist. When she spoke, her voice was softer.
It hadn't been a question. Tommy looked into her eyes. How could she know? She did not wait for him to answer.
"I know her, Tommy," she said. "Everyone does, I guess. It's a small town. It's her, right?"
He nodded a bit sheepishly. "How well do you know her?" he asked.
"I've known her for years. She is a couple of years older than me, and we used to hang together when we were younger, before…"
She stopped, as if she were contemplating something. Then, with intensity, she dove into it. "There's something I want to tell you. You'd probably find out anyway, so I might as well."
He looked at his cousin's soft face. "What?" he asked.
She turned away. There was a moment when it seemed that no words would ever be spoken again. And then: "Mandy and I were in junior high. It was her eighth grade dance, and a guy she knew asked me to come, so we were a foursome, and it was a lot of fun. But we walked out to the beach after the dance, and we were out too late. Mom and Mandy's dad were furious with us. Our clothes were wet and a bit dishevelled where we had tried to keep them out of the water, and Mom was sure we had done something--sexual."
Tommy was hanging on her words, imagining the picture of Chrissie in a pretty dress at a junior high dance.
She continued. "Both of them assumed that we had done something wrong; they would not listen to us." She trailed off, as if unsure whether to finish the story. "It was Mom's idea, I guess. I mean, it started with her. But Mandy's dad took it so much further."
"What?" Tommy asked.
Chrissie looked at her cousin's bulging behind, swaddled in its pink panties. She swallowed. "It was their punishment for our 'misbehaviour.' Both us had to wear diapers to school for a week."
Chapter Eighteen: Ducks Overhead
"What?" Stunned, Tommy looked quizzically at his cousin. "Did you say you had to wear diapers?"
Chrissie smiled a small smile. "Tommy, did you think that mother was only interested in using them to control Jimmy? She believes in what they can do, what they signify. When she thought that Mandy and I had been experimenting with sex, well, she just thought that diapers were a perfect and effective punishment--as well as a chastity belt."
Tommy looked into Chrissie's emerald green eyes, trying to understand the way she was rationalizing her mother's behaviour--behaviour that to him was clearly abusive, and he could use himself as exhibit A. But Chrissie betrayed no hatred or anger toward Aunt Julia for what she had done; she seemed to understand. She also seemed to know what he was thinking, and she interrupted his thoughts.
"Of course you think she's crazy."
Tommy practically snorted. "Crazy? No--this is perfectly normal. Everyone puts their college-aged children and nephews back into diapers. Happens all the time."
She looked sad. "Tommy," she said softly, "it's not insanity. And it's not abuse. She can't see any better way to deal with the problem. I think she honestly believes that she's doing Jimmy some good. And you."
She shot a glance to his pink-pantied bottom, the diapers bulging beneath the plastic. He blushed.
"Besides," she continued, "not every high school or college aged kid wets his bed, too. This is a bizarre situation; the rules are, to say the least, a bit unclear."
He was about to argue with her; he wanted to talk more about how she came to be in diapers and what she felt about wearing them, and he wanted to know more about Mandy. But they were interrupted by Dana's entrance into the room.
"It's bedtime, Baby," she gleefully announced.
Chrissie looked disapprovingly at her younger sister. "Don't you think you could ease up a bit?" she asked. "You know that Tommy just has a problem, like a medical condition or something. No matter what Mom says or wants, he's not a baby."
Standing in the doorway while the others were sitting, Dana somehow seemed older than they were. She spoke quietly, but with a voice very much like a threat that Tommy could not quite understand. "You should know better than to question Mom's authority, Chrissie."
The sisters glared at each other. Without another word, Dana held out her arm toward Tommy, who knew better than to defy her. He rose and followed her to the nursery. As he walked into the room, she patted his padded rear. "Are you wet, Baby?" she asked.
"No," he replied. Then he amended it: "No, Dana."
"Then it's time to get into your crib. Hop up."
She pulled the crib sides up once he was in, said a baby talk good night, and left, pulling the door closed behind her. Tommy lay in his crib staring idly at the mobile over his head. Ducks. Were there ducks yesterday? Or do they have several mobiles and keep changing them? They were pastel colours, and Dana had set them spinning, a music box softly playing. It would only last a short time, he knew. Then a real baby would start crying, if he was still awake. The ducks continued to spin. Blue, yellow, pink, purple…
So absorbed in his thoughts was he when he had entered the room, Tommy had not even noticed that Jimmy was already in his crib. Even if he had, though, his cousin's voice would have stunned him. He had hardly heard two words from Jimmy the whole time he had been here.
"Tommy? Are you awake?'
How long had he been lying in the crib? It seemed only a short time, but he couldn't tell. "Yes," he replied. "I'm awake."
His cousin's voice, a bit hesitant, muttered, "Would you like to talk?"
"I didn't know that you did."
There was a long pause, and Tommy feared he had been too blunt. He was about to say something, although he didn't quite know what, when Jimmy started again.
"I don't talk much," he said, "but we're really in the same boat, and it looks like we will be for quite a while, so I thought we might as well be friends."
Tommy didn't dare sit up to see Jimmy; he knew that Dana would spank him if she came in and he was not lying down. He simply continued staring at the ducks, not slowing down in their eternal circling. He did not really know what to say to his cousin, but there were a lot of things he wondered about.
"How long have you been in diapers?"
"This time?" Jimmy replied.
"What do you mean?"
"Mom has been doing this off and on most of my life. This time, about two years. I started wetting the bed and she's a bit of a cleanliness nut--I guess I understand a little."
Why were all of these kids so understanding about this bizarre punishment? Tommy reeled.
Jimmy continued. "It only really bothers me when she makes me go out, like to the park. Especially now, in the frilly clothes. But I'm pretty used to the whole thing. At first, I fought it like hell. But she did things to me that convinced me that she meant business."
Tommy remembered Chrissie's story of the messy accident at school--Jimmy could not escape his mother's idea of right.
"I know," he replied. "I heard the story."
Another brief pause. "Well, then, you know."
For a long time, the two did not say anything else. Then Jimmy's voice broke the silence once more. "I'm kind of tired, but I just wanted to say I'm really sorry you got sucked into this. I hope we can be friends."
His fifteen-year-old cousin's voice trailed off. Tommy watched the now stationary ducks bobbing overhead, his mind whirling with thoughts--Jimmy at school, Chrissie in diapers, Mandy…
He found himself momentarily alert. "Jimmy," he whispered, "how long do you think you'll be like this?"
Jimmy didn't answer, and Tommy thought perhaps he had fallen asleep. Then, he said softly. "Mom keeps adding to the punishment because she thinks it will cure me. She thinks I'm just being lazy. The truth is, though, that all of the suppositories and all of the diapers have made my accidents worse. I don't think Mom even knows, but I'm actually losing my control. Even in the daytime. I can't even fight it anymore."
"Why don't you tell her? Surely, she'd stop if she knew that."
"No," came the reply. "I think a part of her wants me to be a little baby, and I'm afraid of what might happen if she knew how close I am."
The ducks were almost motionless now, and Tommy became lost in them once more. They were butterflies before, he was sure. But now they were ducks. Purple, blue, green.
He dreamed of meeting Mandy in a pastel garden. His dreams were undisturbed.
Chapter Nineteen: Broad Daylight
There were colours. Blues and greens and reds swirling together, vibrating through flickers of light, sparkling, free flowing. At first there was no sound, but Tommy could sense that something was there, a sweet, high-pitched sound singing over the kaleidoscopic colours, whistling, singing. Birds. But there were ducks before, something told him. Where are the birds?
An eye opened. The ducks were there, clearer in the morning light but somehow at the same time less distinct than when they were the only objects he could really see. Through the open window, the birds called playfully. It was Saturday; no classes today. There had been times in his life, he knew, when such a thought would have brought spasms of joy, but this was not one of them. Who knew what kind of ordeal would await him if Dana had a whole day at her disposal? What would she do to humiliate him today? And how could he possibly get to see Mandy?
The door opened. Dana's voice, in a singsong.
"Good morning, little boys. How are our sweet babies today?"
Jimmy answered first; Tommy had forgotten all about him. "Fine, Dana. But I'm really wet."
She smiled at her brother. "Well you'll just have to wait, Jimmy. Mom will be in for you. I'm in charge of Tommy."
He winced at the phrasing; no matter how often it was repeated, he couldn't get used to the fact that his seventh-grade cousin was his babysitter, was "in charge" of him, and that he had to obey her whims. He watched as her face climbed over the ducks.
"Good morning, Baby Tommy," she said. He winced again. "What about you? Are you all wet too?"
He couldn't bring himself to answer, and she did not seem to take notice. She merely reached down and lifted the seam of his plastic pants a little, inserting her finger. He was surprised at himself for not resisting.
"Ooh, you are a very wet boy," she cooed. "We're going to have to get you all changed and dry and ready for your day."
The side of his crib slid down and he let her lift his legs to pull down the damp plastic pants. She unpinned the wet diaper and slid it out from under him, steadying his legs in the air as she worked. He knew his entire body was as red as his face as she powdered him and pinned him into a fresh diaper, following it with a pair of (thankfully) blue plastic pants.
"There," she said, "you're all dry and happy. What do you say?"
Tommy knew better than to resist. "Thank you, Dana," he responded.
After he was dressed and finished breakfast, he was surprised to discover that Dana had some chores she had to do and was leaving him alone for the morning. "Just play in the yard," she said. But it was an opportunity.
"Dana," he began quietly, "do you think it would be all right if I went into town? I need a few books for class, and, well, I haven't really had much of a chance to buy them this week."
She eyed him carefully, and he found that he had no idea what she was thinking. At last, she spoke, a smile on her face.
"Make sure you come right back, Tommy. I've got plans for after lunch."
At last, he thought, things are easing up. Maybe the horror of this ordeal will lessen as time lakes it more routine; maybe Dana was only hard on him at the start because it was new to her as well. He returned her smile. "Thank you, Dana," he responded, and he headed out the door.
It was certainly a beautiful day, the kind that you want to hold in your memory to return to when the rains fall or the wind bites at your neck. The sun was shining, the temperature was in the 70's: it was perfect, he thought, and more perfect because he could go see Mandy. Maybe this time he could even meet her, he thought, although he had no idea how he could possibly accomplish that. She knew who he was--of that much he was certain--but how to approach her…
He made the turn onto Woodland Ave., almost instinctively slowing down as he approached her house. He listened for any indication that anyone was about. There was a television playing a Disney movie somewhere; he couldn't tell if it was in her house. There was no sign of any movement as he stood at the corner, watching, waiting for something to happen, even though he did not know what it might be.
"What are you waiting for, Tommy?"
He whirled around, stunned. Dana smiled at him again, but her smile was darker this time, more sinister.
"I thought you had books to buy," she said.
"I do," he stammered; "it's just that--"
"It's just that you thought you could find them at Mandy's house, right?" she asked.
How did she know? How could she possibly know about his infatuation with Mandy? The only person he had told was Chrissie, and he dismissed even the possibility that she would betray him.
Dana fixed her pre-pubescent eyes on her cousin. "You think you'd like her, don't you?" she asked. "And you imagine that you would have a lot in common, I guess, and that she would like you."
He couldn't answer.
She reached out for his hand, and he pulled it back without thinking. She glared at him.
"Give me that hand, little boy, if you know what's good for you."
He slowly held it out to her.
"Now," she said, "let's see what your Mandy thinks of you."
Tommy was not sure how to react; Dana was actually going to introduce them! While this was not how he had envisioned their first encounter, at least she was not fighting it. In her way, she was even helping it along. He allowed himself to hope that everything might work out.
The hope died even as it was being conceived. She reached out and unbuckled his belt.
"What are you doing?" he spurted, stopping himself from pulling back this time as she lowered his pants to the ground. "Dana, please!"
"Step out of them," she ordered. "If you want to meet Mandy, let's meet her properly, Baby Tommy."
The realization of what she was doing, on a Saturday morning in broad daylight, froze him for a moment, and suddenly he found himself standing on a sidewalk a few blocks from campus wearing nothing but a diaper and blue plastic pants. Some kids passing on bicycles laughed and rode on. Tears streamed down Tommy's face. "Please, Dana, let me put my clothes back on," he cried.
She did not respond. "Come on, Baby," she said, taking his hand again. "Mandy's waiting."
Chapter Twenty: Pretty in Pink
The steps to Mandy's door were a normal number for a residential house, but to Tommy it seemed as if he were climbing the grand staircase at some palace. He was on display. Anyone and everyone passing by could see him in his blue plastic pants, and they could easily detect the diaper bulge beneath them. And, as they reached the top stair, he knew that Mandy too would see him soon.
He turned one more time, desperately hoping that he could dissuade Dana.
"Please, Dana," he begged. "Please let me go home."
She smiled. "Now, now, Tommy, you obviously wanted to see this little girl; let's not be shy."
His eyes filled with tears and panic. "At least let me put my pants back on," he stammered.
She rang the bell.
Frozen, beaten, and humiliated, Tommy found to his dismay that he was wetting himself, completing the horrible picture. As his face explored yet uncharted shades of red, the door opened.
The man at the door stared directly at Tommy as he opened it, his eyes focused on the diapers. Tommy stood there, his plastic pants now clearly filled with sodden diapers that weighed them down. He couldn't move even if he knew where to go. To move would cause greater problems; of that he was certain, even if, at that moment, he could not imagine greater problems.
The man finished taking in Tommy's unusual appearance and then turned, very naturally, to Dana.
"May I help you, young lady?" he asked. Tommy felt vaguely even more ashamed at having been passed over in this way.
Dana smiled. "I don't think we've seen each other recently, Mr. Fenton," she said, "but I'm Dana Wright. My sister and Mandy used to be friends in junior high school."
His expression, which had been unreadable, softened. "Oh, my goodness," he said, the trace of a smile appearing on his lips, "Julia's little girl? And so grown up, too. How are you, Dana?"
Her smile never faded. Neither Dana nor Mr. Fenton even seemed to acknowledge that Tommy, increasingly uncomfortable in his soggy diapers, was standing there.
"I'm fine, Mr. Fenton; thank you. And mom is fine too," she added.
"It's been a long time," he mused.
"Yes," she said, "a long time. But I had a very special reason for coming by this afternoon."
A nod of her head indicated Tommy, and for the first time in several moments both of the others looked at him. Mr. Fenton still spoke to Dana, though, even while he was looking at her charge.
"He seems to be wet, Dana," he said. "Don't you think you should get him changed?"
Dana looked down at Tommy's diaper. "Oh my," she said, "I hadn't noticed. May we come in?"
Mr. Fenton stepped aside and ushered them into his house. Tommy felt a bit of relief to be out of sight of anyone passing by, but his relief was tainted by the fear that, any second, Mandy would see him like this. Her father spoke again to Dana. "Did you stop by just to change him? he asked.
"Oh no," she said, signalling for Tommy to lie on the carpet, which he knew better than to resist. "In fact, I just realized that I don't even have my diaper bag with me."
She began to signal him to get up, but Mr. Fenton stopped her. "I've got extras; he can borrow some of Mandy's."
Tommy's heart stopped. "Mandy's diapers." Not only were all of his earlier impressions confirmed in a heartbeat, but now he would be wearing her diapers. Something about that idea made him smile a bit, and he felt a bit turned on by the thought, although he knew better than to let it show.
Mr. Fenton, who had disappeared into the next room, emerged with a thick pink diaper. "I hope you don't mind pink," he said. "It's all I let her wear these days."
Dana smiled her same smile. "Pink is fine. Tommy really likes pink, don't you, Tommy?"
He looked at her, a bit surprised at having been addressed, and tried to work out some way to answer which wouldn't condemn him. Giving up, he mumbled, "Yes, Dana," and hung his head.
Mr. Fenton smiled again. "You have him trained well, I see. I guess Julia is still at it after all these years, eh? Do you need some plastic pants too?"
Tommy wanted to say, "No, these are fine," but Dana beat him to the answer: "Well, his blue ones are all wet; maybe it would be a good idea."
As Mr. Fenton left the room, Tommy's mind raced through a desperate mantra: not pink, not pink, not pink…
He collapsed in resignation at the sight of the bright pink panties, fringed with lace, in Mandy's father's hands. As Dana pulled them on over his diapers, Mr. Fenton continued.
"How's your brother and sister?"
"Both fine. Of course, Jimmy's still a baby, but we don't really expect that to change."
"Not Chrissie?" he asked, and Tommy thought he seemed a bit hopeful of something here.
"No," said Dana, apparently to Mr. Fenton's disappointment, "she's not being punished for anything right now. OK, Tommy, we're done; you can get up now." She patted him on the rear as he rose. "Good baby," she said as he blushed.
"Tommy wants to meet Mandy," Dana said bluntly as she stood up, never allowing her face to lose that smile for a second.
Mr. Fenton laughed. "So that's what brought you here!" he said. "Well, that's easily arranged." He walked into the room where he had gone for the diapers. Turning, he motioned for them to follow.
As they entered the room, Tommy could hardly believe it: this was a child's playroom, complete with all sorts of brightly coloured playthings. In the centre sat a playpen, similar to the one he had been placed in at Aunt Julia's. In the playpen, staring at him in terror and obvious shame, with a face that he knew probably matched his own, wearing a frilly baby doll top over an equally frilly diaper cover, was Mandy.
Chapter Twenty One: Playpen Partners
"Say hello, Mandy," her father's stern voice, suddenly quite stern again, demanded.
The face in the playpen was without a doubt the same one that Tommy had been seeing since he arrived. He knew her and he knew that she knew him too, but he also knew that this was not how she had hoped to make his acquaintance. Her blush seemed almost painted on.
Slowly, without quite meeting his eyes, she said "Hello."
Dana and Mandy's father smiled at each other, apparently quite pleased at the distress they were causing. Tommy did not want to give Dana the satisfaction of an order, so he quickly volunteered his own "Hello." There was a brief pause, and then Mr. Fenton turned to Dana.
"Put him in the playpen with her for awhile and come out in the living room, Dana. I've got some lemonade, and you can tell me all about how Julia is doing."
Without much fuss, Tommy found himself sitting with Mandy in the playpen full of baby toys. Both of them were obviously embarrassed about how they were dressed, but they looked for all appearances to be siblings: identical pink laced plastic panties covering their identical pink diapers stuck clearly out from beneath the shirts they wore, her baby doll and his t-shirt. For a long time, they sat in silence, looking at the ground. Unconsciously, Tommy picked up a small stuffed bear and began to squeeze it, more to do something with his hands than anything else. Mandy held one also.
The sounds of conversation came from the living room. Laughter. Dana and Mr. Fenton seemed to be having a wonderful time. This was ridiculous, Tommy thought. I've wanted to meet this girl so much I've dreamed about it, and now I'm with her and I'm just sitting here. So what if I'm dressed this way; she obviously won't care. More laughter from the living room. "Adult" conversation while the babies play.
Tommy turned and looked at Mandy. She was beautiful. She reminded him a bit of Chrissie: there was something sweet and vulnerable and yet clearly independent about her, despite her condition. He thought perhaps she was a year or so younger than he-- maybe seventeen. A fan was making a breeze in the room, and every once in a while it would catch her hair and lift it gently. He wanted to see her eyes, but she was still avoiding his gaze. It was obvious that someone had to begin this.
"Mandy," he said, "I've seen you at school. Um, you're in my English class, right?"
They were silent for a moment, and then suddenly he began to smile. Then she looked up at him and smiled too, and soon they both were giggling out loud. Considering their present condition, his opening statement was more than a little bit absurd.
She nodded. "Not in this outfit, I'm not," she said.
They both laughed. "Shush," she said suddenly. "He'll come in if he thinks we're having fun. Keep quiet."
Tommy had to keep forcing his mind to look beyond the infantile outfit she was wearing, as he also had to keep reminding himself that he also was dressed this way. All he kept feeling was that here was this girl he had wanted to meet, and now at last they were talking.
"I wanted to get to know you from the first time I saw you," he said. "Did you drop that diaper pin on purpose?"
She looked surprised. "You did find that? I thought you had missed it completely."
"How could I?" he asked with a smile. "But how did you know? I mean, why did you- -"
"I knew right away," she interrupted. He blushed again. "No, no, it's not that obvious," she said. "It's just that, well, when you've been in diapers as long as I have you kind of know a kindred spirit when you see one."
"So you wanted to meet me too?" he asked.
"Of course, Silly. But every time I saw you look at me, I got scared. I kept thinking that you'd see--this--and not want to know me at all. But I should have guessed you were with Mrs. Wright, so you, um, understand. And then I saw you in the park, and I was going to come up to you, but when I got close I realized you weren't alone…"
He winced a bit, recalling the horror of that day. "We've both been worried about the same thing," he said. "And it seems to me that we've both got better things to worry about."
She nodded in agreement just as the door opened. Dana was standing there, and Tommy's heart sank; did he have to leave already? Then he noticed that she was carrying two baby bottles full of milk.
She walked over to the playpen. "I brought you something to drink, Little Ones," she cooed, and handed them the bottles. "I hope you'll enjoy them." Dana smiled at Tommy, and left the room, closing the door once again.
He looked at the bottle. "She'll expect me to drink it," he said.
Mandy nodded. "I know. Daddy will probably spank me if I don't finish mine."
"Somehow I suspect that is not quite as embarrassing as getting spanked by your little cousin," he said.
She smiled. "No, probably not. But it hurts just as much."
Giggling, they sucked a while on their bottles as if it were a race. After a few minutes, they had drained them, never taking their eyes off each other. Tommy was the first to speak when they were through.
"You know my aunt, right? So you can probably guess what happened to me. I was just going to stay with them for the first year, but I, um, wet the bed, and then, well…"
It wasn't really embarrassing, telling her this under these circumstances, but it was still difficult. She smiled.
"I understand," she said. "And Dana is…?"
He blushed. This part was a bit embarrassing. "My babysitter," he answered.
"Oh." Mandy didn't look surprised. "And how are Chrissie and James?"
Tommy had not heard anyone use the name James; it seemed vaguely incongruous compared to his vision of his cousin. "They're both, um, fine," he said. "Chrissie is very nice to me; she's a pretty special girl. And Jimmy seems to accept his, um, condition, pretty well."
"So he's still diapered too?" she asked innocently.
He nodded. "It seems kind of permanent."
"No," he said. "But she told me about how all of this got started, so I know she wore them too for a while."
Mandy smiled. "She's worn them since, too. In high school, we used to commiserate all the time. She was practically the only one who would hang out with me after Daddy put me in diapers. And whenever she had to wear them too we'd even have sleepovers." She looked far away for a moment. "I haven't seen her--or anyone, really, for a long time. Daddy insists that I come right home after classes. Sometimes I'm amazed he even lets me take them."
Tommy looked longingly into her eyes. "Do you have to wear these things all the time?"
It was her turn to blush. "Well, you know I get to wear more "grown-up" things to school over my diapers, although Daddy does pick out the most little girlish styles he can find. But I do have to wear the diapers all the time, and…" She stopped for a moment, as if she was not sure how much she felt like admitting. "I need them."
"What do you mean?"
"I need them," she repeated. "At first, it was a stupid punishment, and it didn't really make any sense. But I gradually got so used to them I--I think I've managed to undo all of my, um, control."
"You have to wear them, then?"
"It didn't happen right away. But after I had been wearing them non-stop for a while, I started to realize that I was wetting myself even before I realized I needed to. And then it was too late." She paused again. "And then I started to, um, mess them too, without control."
Tommy winced again at the memory of the embarrassing messes he had made in his diapers. He gazed at this beautiful teenage baby who was telling him these things. Then, without warning, he realized he was wetting his diapers. He started, and blushed deeply (even though he couldn't figure out how he could blush any more deeply than simply sitting here with her in this outfit was making him).
"You're wet, aren't you?" she asked. "It's OK; so am I."
"But I didn't even know…"
"That's how it started for me," she said.
"No," he insisted. "I'm not going to let it happen; I'm not going to lose my control."
"Tommy," she said gently, "I think you already have."
The two teenage babies sat facing each other in their playpen, each in sodden diapers with empty bottles at their sides. Tommy's eyes began to water. As his tears fell, she reached out to him, letting him fall into her arms.
"I've cried a lot," she said. "It's OK. Babies are supposed to. And sometimes it helps me to get through the day."
He looked at her again. "Don't you hate him for doing this to you?"
She shook her head slowly. "No," she said. "I don't hate my father. He's just trying his best too. And I accept this lot in life. But it's just that sometimes I feel so…lonely…"
His arms pressed gently around her, sliding around her baby doll top. "I don't think we need to be alone anymore," he said.
Chapter Twenty Two: Kindred Spirits
She was looking deep into his eyes, intensely, longingly. When their lips met, Tommy realized that he had never felt anything like this before: the fullness of joy overwhelmed him, overwhelmed even the setting in which the kiss occurred. It was only when their lips parted that he began to recognize how ridiculous they must appear: two grown babies sitting in a playpen wearing wet diapers and pink rumba panties, kissing passionately while the "adults" responsible for them talked in the next room. He backed away.
"What's wrong?" Mandy asked.
Tommy was not sure what to say. Mandy was real, and she suffered the same punishment as he did--clearly they had much in common. But the situation was hopeless. Dana knew of his infatuation, and Mr. Fenton probably suspected now too. This time alone, he realized, was just another part of the torture: he might never be allowed to see her again, might never find out if she is really the one for him.
His mind flew ahead. What if she is the one? What kind of a life could they lead, two babies in an adult world? If he was really losing his control--no, he couldn't think that way; it was poison. He was only reacting naturally to his condition; that was all. Anyone who had been treated this way would…
But who else would be treated this way? Despite its exaggerated elements, Tommy had to admit that he had brought this on by his own nocturnal accidents. Most real grown-ups did not wet the bed.
He gazed at her beautiful blue eyes again, trying to see behind them to what she was, what she might have been if this had never happened to her. He couldn't help thinking that perhaps the reason they were attracted to each other was that they were indeed what she had called "kindred spirits"; they were trapped in the same ordeal; of course they would support each other. And what did they really know about each other anyway?
"Are you all right?"
He wanted to get to know her; of that much he was certain. But how? His thoughts were broken by the door. Mr. Fenton walked in.
"How are the little babies?" he asked. "Are you sharing your toys, Mandy?"
She blushed, and Tommy suddenly realized that blushing had become kind of a normal condition for both of them. "Yes, Daddy," she answered.
"Good," he said, "because you know you'll get a spanking if you're a bad girl. Do you need to be changed?"
She blushed more deeply and met Tommy's eye. "No," she said quietly. "Not yet."
Her father smiled. "Well, we'll be in to change both of you in just a little while, before Dana has to take Tommy home." He turned and went back into the living room.
Tommy felt himself wetting again; this was getting ridiculous. He was soaked, and he knew it. And this time he felt the start of another kind of pressure. No; he could not do that here. Not here.
She was talking to him again. "Why did you pull away, Tommy?"
"I'm sorry," he stammered. "I just suddenly felt, I don't know, confused. They won't let us continue this, you know."
She smiled. "No, probably not, now that they know about it. But I am glad that I finally got the chance to meet you."
She stroked his face gently. Lost in his feelings for her, he suddenly felt the pressure again, a bit more insistent this time. She stopped, her hand lying on his cheek.
"What's wrong, Tommy?"
"Nothing," he shot back. "I'm just, um, thinking about what we can do to see each other again."
Her face lit up. "Perhaps I might be able to see Chrissie and James again too," she offered.
He shook his head. "Only if we can manage to get you over to our house. But I haven't any idea how to do that." He winced a bit from the cramping.
Mandy never took her eyes from his. "You need to poop, don't you?" she asked.
It was his turn to blush deeply. "Yes," he admitted. "It hurts."
"Then do it," she said matter-of-factly. When he looked astonished, she added, "It's not like you have any choice, Tommy. And anyway, I know you've seen me do it already."
Tommy was stunned. How could she have known?
"I saw you when I came out of the bushes," she said. "But I just couldn't face you then, not in that condition, so I got here as quickly as I could."
He felt the cramping again. He really did not wish to give in, not even to even the score between them; it was just too embarrassing. But there was no fighting it; Mandy was right: he had no choice. His face grew more darkly red as he gave in to the cramping, pushing the contents of his bowels out into the diaper. He knew she was watching him, and that knowledge made the tears well up again in his eyes. As he finished the final contraction, he gave in convulsively to the tears.
She held him again, soothing him, ignoring the smell that suddenly permeated the room. "You don't need to feel ashamed, Tommy," she said. "It's natural."
He sobbed deeply, and she held him. Somehow being consoled by this girl in a baby outfit, being talked to in that comforting "Mom" sort of way by someone who was wearing a wet diaper herself, just made him feel more like crying. She stroked his hair gently.
"I know," she said. "This is still new to you. I'm used to it, but it still can get to me. Try not to think about it."
As if there were any way not to think about it, when he was sitting in a mound of his own mess and its smell enveloped him, when he must sit and wait patiently for his thirteen-year-old cousin, his babysitter, to change him, which she would undoubtedly do right in front of Mandy. Try not to think about it.
He forced himself to talk. "I'm sorry. I just can't help it."
"I know," she said.
After a while he managed to get the sobbing under control, and he sat there in her arms in silence, waiting for whatever would happen.
"Tommy," she said quietly, "we have to plan something quickly, or we may never get a chance again."
He looked at her quizzically. "Plan what?" he asked.
"How to get my dad and your aunt together," she said with a smile.
He looked as astonished as he felt. She went on.
"They each need someone," she said. "Isn't it obvious? They need to keep their children as babies because they can't bear to see themselves alone, which they will both be in a few years. You didn't see them together when all of this started; Daddy smiled more than he ever had before. And now, today: I just realized that he is having a longer conversation with Dana than he has with anyone else in years. Do you think he is really interested in talking to a thirteen-year-old?"
Tommy paused. He hadn't thought of that, but it made perfect sense.
"He must want to know about your aunt," she said.
Tommy thought about it. "He asked about her when we came in."
She lit up. "That's it!" she said. "We'll need to make a plan. And we'll need to have help from James and Chrissie. I don't think Dana can be trusted."
He shook his head, smiling.
They talked for several minutes before they heard the sound of movement in the living room. "They're coming," she said. "You know what you have to do?"
"Yes," he replied as the door opened.
"Phew!" Dana exclaimed as she entered the room. "Which one of you is messy?"
Tommy blushed again. "I am, Dana," he answered.
"OK," she said, "Let me get you out of that dirty diaper then."
Tommy acquiesced meekly as she assisted him in climbing out of the playpen. He lay on the ground, spread-eagled, as she unpinned his diaper.
"My God," she said, "this is as bad as the one after the park! You've managed to leak all over your t-shirt."
She was intentionally trying to embarrass him, and he knew it; he was determined not to allow it. Mandy sat in the playpen watching.
Dana used ten or twelve baby wipes to get him completely clean. "Now let's see if Baby Mandy has anything you can borrow to wear home," she said.
Dana left the room and returned almost instantly with fresh diapers, a clean pair of plastic panties, and one of Mandy's baby doll tops. Tommy cringed.
"No, please, Dana: don't make me wear that home. Please!"
"Don't be silly, Baby," she said. "We can't have you walking home naked, can we?"
Tommy couldn't hold back his tears as she put him into Mandy's baby clothes. As she stood him up, Mr. Fenton came into the room.
"Oh," he laughed. "I thought for a second you were changing Mandy, too."
Dana and Mr. Fenton said their goodbyes, and then he looked at his daughter in the playpen. "Come here, Little Girl." He helped her out of the playpen and began to change her diaper. While he was pinning a new one on her, he said, "Say goodbye to your new friend, Sweetheart."
She smiled sweetly at Tommy. "Goodbye, Tommy," she said, as if everything about the situation were completely normal.
"Goodbye," he returned with a slight smile, and Dana led him to the door. Dressed in nothing but pink diapers and plastic pants with a cute yellow baby doll top, Tommy began the long walk home.
Chapter Twenty Three: A Few Changes
The walk home should have been more excruciating than it had actually been, Tommy thought as Dana held the door of her house for him to enter. The pink diapers and yellow baby doll top brought on jeers from junior high kids in the vicinity, and stares from other passers-by, but Tommy had felt strangely oblivious. It occurred to him to worry that he was getting used to the baby bit: maybe, like a real baby, he was beginning to think of diapers as natural attire. That would be as troubling as the fact that he was finding himself wetting and even messing his diapers more and more freely; the longer he wore them, it seemed, the more he needed them. Entering Aunt Julia's floral-papered living room, Tommy wondered for the first time if he would ever be out of diapers again.
"Is that you, Dana?" came his aunt's booming voice from the kitchen. "I need help making dinner."
"I'll be right there, Mom," his cousin replied. Turning to her charge, she smiled and said, "Maybe I won't tell Mom about your little deception today, if you are a very good boy for the rest of the weekend. I think you've been punished enough anyway."
Tommy allowed a grateful smile to cross his face. "Thank you, Dana," he said quietly.
Abruptly, Aunt Julia came into the room. Seeing Tommy's clothing, she immediately asked Dana, "Why is this baby dressed this way?"
Dana smiled a sly smile at Tommy. "He was bad this morning about breakfast, so I took him for a walk like this to teach him a lesson. We ended up down on Woodland Ave, and we stopped by to visit with someone I hadn't seen in a long time, Mr. Fenton."
"Bob Fenton?" Julia asked. "How is he?"
Dana smiled, obviously satisfied that her little deception had been effective. "He's fine. Tommy and Mandy played together while we talked. He asked about you."
Julia looked again at Tommy. "And he was dressed this way?" She smiled at her daughter. "Good for you, Dana."
Mother and daughter went into the kitchen to work on supper, telling Tommy to go up to his room, which he grudgingly did. When he opened the door, he found that Jimmy was in his crib for an afternoon nap.
"Hi, Tommy," his cousin said.
It was still odd to talk to a teenager through the bars of a crib, even though Tommy himself shared that view every day.
"Hi," he said. He moved slowly into the room, sliding over to Jimmy's crib. Should he take his cousin into his confidence? Could he be trusted? Tommy looked at Jimmy's nap clothing, a bulging pink blanket sleeper, and he looked at the toys in the crib with him, and at the mobile over his cousin's head--not ducks, like Tommy's, but teddy bears. How could he even think that Jimmy would not want to do something about this if he could?
His cousin broke the silence. "Why are you dressed in girls' clothes?"
Tommy looked down. He had completely forgotten that he was dressed this way. Good lord, he thought. It is getting to be something completely normal.
"Dana's punishing me for not being truthful," he said.
Jimmy shook his head. "You should know better."
"I know. But there is this girl…"
Jimmy looked surprised. "A girl? What girl? What kind of girl would even be remotely interested in boys like us?
Tommy smiled. "A baby girl," he answered.
Jimmy stared at his cousin for quite a few moments; Tommy could see his eyes growing wider. Finally, he spoke very softly.
Of course, Jimmy knew Mandy; she had been his sister's friend and had been the beginning of his mother's odd means of punishment, the one that had captured him. Tommy nodded.
"She goes to my school. I followed her home, and Dana caught me."
Suddenly, the door to the nursery burst open and Aunt Julia came flying into the room. Tommy's eyes darted immediately to the paddle in her hand.
"Come here, little boy," she demanded. Scared and shocked, and not sure what was going on, Tommy hesitated. Jimmy's voice behind him whispered, "You better go; it'll only be worse if you don't."
He moved meekly over to her, and she grabbed him by the ear. "Dana tells me that you had been to Woodland Ave. before; is that correct?"
He nodded, his eyes still on the paddle, a small whimper escaping his throat.
"And that you sneaked back there without permission?"
Again, he nodded. He should have known better than to trust Dana. Of course she told her mother.
The paddle cracked down on his padded rear. "And that, in fact, you lied to her about where you wanted to go and abused her permission to be on your own?"
This was not going well. His rear stung even through the diaper, and he had a strong feeling that the diaper would be coming off very soon. He nodded again.
"What?" she asked.
"Yes, Aunt Julia," he stammered.
"Well," she responded sternly, "you know what happens to bad babies, don't you?"
He didn't want to say it, but he did. "Yes, Aunt Julia."
She yanked his ear, pulling him toward the room's only adult chair (which he and Jimmy were forbidden to sit upon), and sat down, pulling her nephew over her lap. Tommy whined and squirmed, but she held him firmly. "If you don't stop resisting, this will be much worse," she said.
He felt his plastic pants sliding to the ground, and she began unpinning his diapers. Quickly they, too, were in a heap below him. Then, the paddle exploded onto his bare bottom.
"No!" he screamed. "Please!"
His aunt brought it down again and again, each time worse than the one before. Tommy's struggling turned to convulsions of tears and deep sobs as his aunt administered her punishment. Each stroke of the paddle burned as it landed. This was much worse than his last spanking. He screamed in pain as the paddle struck.
When she finally stopped, Tommy hardly realized it; his rear hurt so bad it seemed the blows were still coming. Her strong grasp on his body eased, and he was allowed to slip down onto the floor, still uncontrollably sobbing.
"Perhaps you will think twice about deceiving us," she said. "Apparently, you do not have the strength to behave, and the diapers are not enough of a constraint to keep you in line. Well, I think Dana's idea is one that we will start to use all the time."
What did she mean? She pulled him again by the ear and dragged him into the bathroom, ordering him into the tub. As he sat there, naked, his aunt pulled a razor blade and some shaving cream from a cabinet.
Tommy started to rise.
"I still have the paddle, little boy," she said, and he sat back down. "You've been thinking too much like a grown-up; maybe we can rectify that," she said.
Tommy knew what she was going to do, but there was nothing he could do about it, and he knew that too. Soon, she had shaved the hair clean from his entire body except his head, where his fairly long locks flowed freely.
"We'll keep you like this," she said. "From now on, you will use the same hair- removing cream I use, every time you get a bath. Dana will see to it."
Tommy blushed, thinking of Dana, baths, and his raw, hairless body.
Julia towelled him off and led him back into the nursery, where Jimmy stared from the crib at his nude and smooth-shaven cousin. Tommy blushed; even Jimmy had not been treated to this indignity. Julia laid him down, pinning his pink diaper back on and pulling the baby doll top over it.
"From this point on," she said, "you will be dressed at all times as a little girl."
He gasped. "No, please," he said, "I'll be good. I promise." His eyes lighted on his cousin, still watching, his eyes sadder than before.
"It's too late for that," she said. "You have proved that you cannot be trusted. Stand up!" she demanded, as she pulled a pair of lacy plastic pants over his diapers. "You may wear regular baby clothes to school--for now--but any future mistakes will mean full punishment. And you know I'll do it; ask Jimmy."
His eyes again met those of his cousin.
"You will come straight home from school each day, and no excuses! As soon as you are home, you will be changed into girl's clothes, and you'll wear them no matter what we are doing or where we are going. Maybe that will stop you from wandering."
Aunt Julia turned to leave. Suddenly something she had said struck Tommy. "Aunt Julia?"
She turned. "Call me 'Aunty,'" she said.
"'Aunty?'" he quickly corrected, brushing away the last of the spanking's tears, "what did you say about school?"
"You heard me, Tommy. Baby clothes. And be grateful they are not girls' clothes." She turned again and walked out, closing the door.
Tommy stared at his image in the mirror on the back of the door. His hair was a bit long anyway, and now he was dressed in girls' clothes--baby girls' clothes. With no other hair on his body, he looked like an overgrown baby girl. And he would have to wear baby clothes to class! Maybe she would let him out of that part; it was simply too cruel.
Jimmy must have been reading his mind. "She won't change her mind, Tommy," he said. "She never has before."
Tommy's tears began to flow again. "But she can't. She can't…"
Jimmy nodded sadly. "She can. And she already has."
The door opened, almost hitting Tommy, who managed to jump out of its path. It was Dana.
"Oh, you do look adorable," she said.
He turned away, suddenly angry. "How could you tell her?" he cried. "You said you wouldn't."
She touched his shoulder gently--probably the first gentle thing she'd ever done to him, he thought later. "I had to, Tommy," she said. "Mom saw your clothes, and she knew they weren't Jimmy's, so she knew I was not telling the whole truth. I had to."
He looked at her.
"I'm sorry," she said.
Tommy could hardly believe his ears. Even Jimmy seemed stunned. But Dana continued. "I didn't want to lie to you. But you do look very cute," she said. "Now let's get you into bed for a nap before supper."
After she had left, Tommy stared at the ducks. "Jimmy," he said, "would you like to help me in something that might make both of our lives a lot better?"
His cousin paused before responding. "Is it risky?"
Tommy smiled. "Maybe. But things can't get a hell of a lot worse, can they?"
The two teenage boys chuckled a bit from their cribs as Tommy began to unfold his plan.
Chapter Twenty Four: Enter Tina
The meal and the evening had been uneventful--if you don't count it as an event that Tommy spent the entire time dressed as a baby girl. Chrissie was not at dinner. He assumed that she was ill. Tommy and Jimmy were fed at separate high chairs while Dana and Aunt Julia ate at the table.
As Dana finished feeding Tommy the last of his dessert (which, on this evening, was some kind of unrecognisable strained fruit), she began to laugh.
"What's so funny?" he asked, the question itself seeming to him a bit absurd, given the sight that she was viewing as she spooned the fruit into his open mouth.
Dana smiled. "It's just that I think I could have fed you a bit more neatly. You're really a mess tonight, and I think it's my fault." She giggled. "We're going to have to get you cleaned up."
Tommy didn't like where this was heading. "Uh, that's OK, Dana," he said. "I think that a little bit of cereal on my face won't kill me. We just need a face cloth, and--"
"Nonsense," interrupted Aunt Julia. "Babies do not decide for themselves when they need a bath. And anyway Dana is right: you are filthy. Dana, take Tommy upstairs and give him a nice bath."
No matter how many times this happened, he could not get used to it. There was something about it that seemed even worse than having his diaper changed. At least that was quick. Dana rarely lingered long in diaper changes; perhaps she didn't really enjoy the smell or the task. Whatever it was, she got them done pretty quickly, and Tommy was grateful. But baths were another story: Dana always seemed to take her time bathing him, making sure that she scrubbed every inch of his body thoroughly. She even insisted that he allow her to clean between his cheeks, and he could never stop the hard-on that it gave him when she slid her hand around his groin, gently cleaning what she called his "tender areas." She usually giggled and poked it, making fun of "Tommy's little thingy."
And tonight, added to the regular humiliation, he was completely hairless. He could feel the air on his legs and arms as he sat in the high chair; he was constantly aware that this change had occurred. And now she would bathe him, and she would run her washcloth over his smooth skin, and see him that way. He was not sure that he could take it.
"Come on, Tommy," she said as she helped him down. "It's tubby time."
The bubbles usually came up to his chin, covering him and shielding him somewhat from her view, but not tonight. He sat in the warm water with only a thin layer of soapsuds floating on the surface, his smooth skin (like a baby's, he couldn't help thinking) shimmering below the film, plainly visible to him and to her. His "little thingy" seemed shrivelled and small, and he almost preferred the hard-on: even the size seemed appropriately babyish tonight. Dana spoke sweetly to him as she washed him, and he did his best to ignore her, focusing his attention instead on the floating toys that she always put into the water with him. It seemed to please Dana that he was playing with the ducks tonight; usually he just let them float around him, but tonight he held them and moved them about--anything to take his mind off of what was happening to him.
At the end of the bath, she towelled him off carefully and walked him into the nursery. Closing the door, she dropped the towel and manoeuvred him in front of the full- length mirror.
"Don't you look cute, all nice and clean?" she cooed.
Tommy looked at himself in the mirror. There was nothing in the reflection that he could recognize as belonging to an eighteen-year-old male. The longish, wet hair on his head hung loosely over his shoulders, and it was the only hair anywhere on his body. His smooth skin shined in the lamplight. And his penis seemed to have decided to spend the night inside where it was warmer. But for that small reminder, he might have been a pre-pubescent girl. Even with it, there was no way he was older than twelve.
Dana motioned to him to lie down on the changing table, and began to diaper him. He realized almost as soon as she opened the drawer that it was now full of pink diapers. He sighed as she reached for one and slid it under him; there was no point in even commenting.
"Good thing Mom had some of these around," Dana said. "But she's going to have to buy more of them, with all of these little girl babies running around."
Dana smiled and Tommy blushed.
"Let's get you into something sweet for beddy-bye," she said. "Here is a cute little nightie; I think its Chrissie's."
She showed Tommy a yellow and white nightgown, laced with fringe, with teddy bears adorning its front and an embroidered "C" over the heart. Of course it was Chrissie's, from when she was a child. He was a bit surprised, as she slipped it on, that it fit.
Dana beamed. "You look adorable, Tommy," she said. "But something bothers me. If we're going to have you from now on as a little girl, 'Tommy' seems a silly name. I think that from now on I'll call you 'Tina.'"
Indignantly, Tommy shot back, "Tina? Come on, Dana; that's going too far."
"Too far?" she responded. "Look at yourself, Tina. You most certainly do not look like a Tommy to me." She paused, letting it sink in. "Now, you will respond to the name 'Tina' at all times from now on. Do you understand?"
Tommy was quiet for a moment as he stared at his reflection once again. He knew that he had no choice, but he couldn't give in.
"Tina? Do you understand?"
The baby girl in front of the mirror nodded from over her yellow nightie. "Yes, Dana," Tommy muttered.
Having secured Tommy in his pink diapers and plastic pants, dressed him in his new bedclothes, and changed his name, Dana helped him into the crib.
"Now I don't want to hear a peep from either of you," she said. "Good night."
"Good night, Dana," the two boys obediently replied, and she left the room, turning on the Mickey Mouse night light before leaving.
Tommy waited for her steps to disappear before speaking.
"Why did she never change your name?"
"I don't know," Jimmy replied. "Maybe she never thought of it before. But I think it's just that Mom never put her completely in charge of me; she always shared that with Chrissie."
In charge. Every time Tommy heard that phrase connected with his young cousin's role in his life, it made him blush. "Jimmy, I need Chrissie's help if we are to make this work. Do you think she's sick? She wasn't at supper."
"I know," he replied. "I was there."
Tommy smiled. "Of course. Sorry. I'm a bit confused this evening. Do you know where she was?"
Jimmy paused. "No. Not for sure. I heard Mom saying something to Dana about Chrissie, but I'm not sure what it was. I guess she is sick or something; she was already in her room when I came upstairs."
Tommy's voice became more conspiratorial.
"Do you think we might sneak in to talk to her?"
"No way, Tommy. They'd catch us for sure. And who knows what they'd do?"
Tommy thought about it for a few minutes. He looked at his clothing in the weak light, and through the bars of his crib at the condition of his cousin.
"Well, I'm going to risk it," he said.
It was past midnight when he finally made his move. Slipping out of the crib as quietly as possible, he silently opened the door and moved out into the darkened hallway. Seconds later, he found himself in Chrissie's room. Sliding the door shut behind him, he tiptoed over to her bed, where he could see her sleeping in the pale moonlight. Suddenly, he felt a bit uncomfortable being in her room while she slept; he felt as if he did not belong there. But he needed to speak with her privately, and this was just about his only chance, so he continued. He was just about to reach over and gently touch her shoulder when he saw the pattern on her nightgown. It was the same teddy bear pattern that he was wearing. She was lying on top of her covers, and the pale blue nightgown's lace fringe was easy to see in the glow of the moon. And easy to see also, as Tommy gazed in astonishment, was the fact that the nightie was bunched up at the waist, revealing the bottom of a bulging pair of plastic pants.
Chrissie was wearing diapers.
Chapter Twenty Five: Midnight Surprise
There was no doubt about it. Tommy stared, transfixed by the bulky padding on his cousin's rear. Lying there in the soft moonlight, perspective distorted by the darkness, Chrissie looked for all the world like a little girl--a sweet, angelic, sleeping child in her diapers and teddy bear nightie. A pained expression shot across Tommy's face as he suddenly realized that this is exactly what he, too, looked like, but it resolved itself quickly as he stared in fascination at his beautiful cousin.
Chrissie stirred slightly in her sleep, and as she rolled over Tommy saw lying next to her head a partially finished baby bottle, its contents reflecting the white of the moonlight. No wonder Chrissie had not been downstairs this evening, he thought. Distracted from his cousin for a moment by a sound somewhere in the house, Tommy suddenly realized the danger of being here. He could only imagine the kind of punishment he would receive if Dana or Aunt Julia were to find him here, and now he was not certain he even wanted to awaken Chrissie: she might be too embarrassed at having been seen this way. He slowly inched backwards towards the door.
A noise in the hall stopped him in his tracks. Dana or Aunt Julia. Someone was awake. He held his breath and listened through the door. Silence for several moments. Then the muffled sound of a toilet flushing--he realized that he had heard that sound very infrequently in recent weeks; it was like a part of a fading memory. A door opened and the footsteps he had first heard returned, themselves fading as they moved down the hall, finally disappearing completely in the faint closure of a door.
Tommy let his breath rush out and deeply replaced it. Another close call, but this time he was safe: they really didn't know, he was certain. They would never, even to amuse themselves, allow him alone in Chrissie's room this late. He turned back to look at her one last time in the pale moonlight.
She was watching him.
While he had been focused on the sounds in the hall, he had overlooked what must have been the sound of her shifting on the bed, the sounds of waking up. And now she lay there, facing him instead of away, and quietly watching him. He had come to speak to her, but now he was not sure what to say. Why she had not cried out, awakening to find someone in her room, was beyond him until he realized what he looked like: no intruder would be dressed like a little diapered girl; of course she would know immediately who was in the room.
"Tommy," she whispered at last.
He moved slightly toward her. "Hi, Chrissie," he said.
She studied his clothing, the nightie that matched her own and the pink plastic pants; she looked at his hair, which hung loose and long over his shoulders; she seemed to be looking for any remnant of that college boy who had come to live with them weeks ago, but even Tommy knew that hat boy was long gone, replaced by this overgrown baby girl--one of two, Tommy suddenly remembered, in the room.
"Chrissie," he said, "what happened? Why are you diapered too?"
She stared at him for a moment more in silence. "I was going to ask about you--I see they've taken it about as far as they can." He knew what she meant, and he blushed a bit. "It's OK, Tommy: don't let it destroy you. Besides," she added with a smile, "you do look cute in my nightie."
Tommy quickly refocused the conversation. "I know about what they've done to me, and to Jimmy, but you…"
"Shush," she whispered. "You're getting too loud. Come away from the door."
She sat up in her bed and motioned to him to sit down, which he did despite an acute awareness that the picture they made together would be of two almost identical young girls dressed sweetly as twins.
She touched his face gently. "You're sweet to think about me, Tommy, when you've got so many troubles yourself. But this is just something that happens. It's happened before, and you know that, and it will happen again. It's not that big a deal."
He was puzzled. To him, being treated this way was the biggest deal in the world, but she seemed unfazed by it all as she sat there, a pretty sixteen-year-old in her little girl nightie and thick diapers talking to her eighteen-year-old baby cousin. The whole idea was ludicrous, and he smiled despite himself.
"There," she said. "I like it when you smile, and you don't do it enough."
"I haven't had much reason to since I've been here," he said, his smile vanishing.
She looked at his eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "Of course it's much worse for you; you haven't been here all your life."
Tommy sat silently beside her. For a few moments, neither spoke at all. Finally, she smiled softly. "I look a bit ridiculous, don't I?" she asked.
"No more ridiculous than I look. Less, actually," he responded.
"You look fine," she said, "but maybe I'm just used to it. The nightie doesn't change you that much from the way you've looked for weeks."
He frowned. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?" he asked. "Knowing that, despite being dressed this way, I look the same as always doesn't exactly make me want to sing out with joy."
"No, of course not," she said. "I didn't mean it that way."
Again, they sat in awkward silence on her bed in the moon-bathed room until Chrissie once more spoke.
"Do you want to know why I am being punished this time?"
"How often does this happen?"
"Too often, I guess. Actually, these last several weeks might be the longest I've gone without diapers since Mom came up with the whole concept years ago."
"You mean with you and Mandy?"
"Yes," she nodded. "That time I had to wear them to school for a week. Since then, most of the time she just makes me wear them in the house."
Tommy stared at her, trying to make himself understand. "Most of the time?"
"You know, when she's punishing me. I told you before: it's a great and effective chastity belt, and that's how Mom uses it. You can bet I'm not going out late at night with any boys dressed like this."
She laughed a bit, and Tommy smiled with her. Her manner was singularly at ease despite the clumsiness of the situation. He marvelled at her maturity, at her ability, which had struck him before, to see some sense in this bizarre situation, to understand her mother's motives even when she herself was the victim. This girl, he knew, was far stronger than she had ever appeared to be. Suddenly he remembered the diapers she wore and they seemed even more absurd than before; yet at the same time he almost found that he hardly noticed them at all.
"What happened this time?" he asked.
She smiled. "It's almost always the same thing. I was out too late, after curfew. She thinks that the only reason to be out late is to have sex, and she tells me that this should remind me that I'm not big enough for that kind of thing."
Tommy almost didn't ask, but he found himself intolerably curious. The question, as it came out, seemed almost humorous in Chrissie's current condition. "Were you? Having sex?"
She laughed again. "God no," she replied. "I mean, I never have. Have you?"
He blushed, but he knew it was a fair question. And he knew that, in his condition, it was even more stunningly absurd than when he had asked it. Quietly, he shook his head "no." "I never have," he said. "I was always too afraid that I might--I mean after, when--if we slept together, I mean--"
She touched his lips to still them. "You might wet the bed?"
"So you never took the chance?"
"No," he said. "Never." He looked up at her. "Not that I have had that many opportunities: the kids back home think I'm a bit weird."
She giggled. "If only they could see you now."
Memories of the old barn and the taunting of his classmates flooded into Tommy's mind, but it all seemed like a faded old movie. He looked at his cousin and at himself, the two of them sitting side by side on the bed dressed in matching nighties and thick diapers, and even Tommy had to laugh. "I guess it is a bit much, isn't it?" He caught her hand and held it, suddenly serious. "Do you think they'll keep me like this long?"
"I don't know, Tommy," she said. "Maybe. Jimmy's been in girls' clothes for three months now. How far have they gone with you?"
He knew she was aware of Jimmy's punishment; she knew the extent of her mother's weird punishments. He answered her as well as he could. "Dana says that I'm to have no body hair at all, and she removed it with some lotion. They've taken away everything but girls' clothes from my room, and all my diapers are pink."
Chrissie looked a bit surprised. "Anything else?"
Tommy swallowed a bit. "She says I am to be called 'Tina.'"
Chrissie forced back a small laugh. "Tina?"
"It's not funny, Chrissie."
"I know. I'm sorry."
He looked at her, imploring. "So what do you think?"
For a moment, she did not respond. When she finally did, Tommy was not much set at ease. "I don't know what it means, Tommy," she said. "Even Jimmy never got a new name, although they do call him Sissy sometimes. Maybe its just Dana. Maybe she's playing with you, like one of her dolls."
He winced at the implication. Oddly, though, despite the fact that it was painful to hear, that thought was a bit encouraging. Perhaps she might tire of the game.
He felt Chrissie's hand on his again. Looking up at her, his eyes met hers. She had something to tell him.
"Tommy," she said, "I haven't told you everything."
He closed his eyes. "What?" he asked.
"It's just that my curfew wasn't the only reason I'm being punished. Mom says that I have been," she paused a moment, "too soft on you, too nice." She ploughed ahead. "She says that you'll never stop being a big baby until we impress upon you that you have to grow up, and I should be trying to humiliate you more. But I can't, Tommy; I just can't do that."
Tommy felt a tear rolling down his face even as he wiped one from Chrissie's.
"What will happen now?" he asked.
"I'm not sure," she said softly.
"What about you, Chrissie? How long will your mother punish you?"
"I don't know," she said. "She warned me that it could easily be around the clock again if I don't start acting like one of the adults in this house. And she had Dana change me; she's only done that once before, and it was that first time, when Dana was only about eight. I'm not sure what that means. But Dana made a comment about having three baby girls in the house."
Tommy interrupted his cousin. "She said that to me, too--or something like it. I didn't put it together at the time."
Chrissie looked a bit sad. "So maybe it'll be a while," she said softly.
Tommy put his arm around her and held her. His mind whirred on as he sat there, images of Mandy and Chrissie and Jimmy and himself blending into images of Aunt Julia and Dana, who seemed now so much older than her thirteen years. He found that he could not even imagine her in diapers.
"What about Dana?" he asked suddenly.
"What about her?"
"When was the last time she was punished this way?"
Chrissie's face did not betray an emotion. "She never is," she said.
"She never has been diapered since she was toilet trained. Mom never uses this punishment on her."
Tommy was confused. "Why not?"
His cousin looked quietly at him for a moment, then answered, "I don't know."
They sat quietly again for a while, and Tommy blushed to realize that he was wet; he did not even know for sure when it had happened. This was disconcerting, and it was happening more and more lately. He didn't mention it to Chrissie. Instead, he remembered why he had come here in the first place.
"Chrissie," he said, "you've got to help us. Jimmy and I have been talking, and we think we might have a plan…"
Chapter Twenty Six: Breakfast with the Girls
The dawn broke with not a cloud in the sky. Through the opened curtains of his windows, Tommy could see the deep blue of a beautiful autumn day, a view which was only interrupted, not damaged, by the white bars of his crib. Jimmy was still sleeping--he was certain of that--but he would awaken soon; today was going to be a very interesting day.
He turned his eyes to his more immediate surroundings. The crib was full, not only with his rather un-baby like body, but also with toys that Dana liked to place there: a teddy bear, a couple of board books about trains and airplanes, several other small stuffed animals. The teddy bear was in his arms when he awoke--no surprise again, for he had intentionally clutched it when he went to sleep. Dana would have punished him if he had not. Overhead, the ducks sailed through the air, disturbed by his small movements within the crib.
His teddy bear nightie was a bit bunched up below his waist, and the thick diapers bulged out the frilly plastic panties over them. He knew that the diapers were wet; they pretty much always were when he woke up, and the bulkiness between his legs offered no surprise this morning. He was only briefly surprised when he stared down at his hairless legs as the door opened.
"Are you awake, Tina?" Dana asked cheerfully. "It's a beautiful day, and I want to get started early."
Tommy was not surprised to find that Dana was up at the crack of dawn. He had suspected that she would not let this first day of his newest punishment start slowly. Jimmy was stirring now, too; it would not be long before all of the house would be working on its morning routines. Jimmy and Tommy--and Chrissie, too, he remembered--would be getting their diapers changed and given their breakfast, Aunt Julia would be getting breakfast, and Dana--well, if things worked out the way he hoped, Dana would become an unwilling accomplice in the beginning of the end of this ridiculous charade.
"Good morning, Dana," he said in a quiet voice.
"Time to get up, Sweetie," she returned, and he winced at the syrupy nickname. "My little girl has a busy day ahead."
Jimmy was awake now and clearly uncomfortable. He called out from his crib. "Dana, I made pooh-pooh; can you please change me?"
Tommy suddenly was aware of the smell; it permeated the room, but he had not even noticed it before. Another in a vast list of things that he was simply getting used to.
"Oh, so it's you. I thought maybe Tina had messed herself. Well, I'll get to you, but you're just going to have to wait."
"But--" he started, but she interrupted.
"There will be no backtalk, little boy. If I hear another word from you before I am ready to change you, you'll get a spanking you won't soon forget to start this beautiful day."
Dana lowered the side of Tommy's crib and began to work on changing his diaper. He did not even bother fighting the action; he was wet and he needed to be changed, and he was hardly even embarrassed anymore about her seeing him and treating him this way. But he almost protested when he saw what she wanted him to wear. The dress would not even fall below his waist; its lacy bottom trim would neatly frame the bulging diapers he would be wearing, and they too would be covered in lace. Meekly, remembering that this embarrassment was a part of what he had worked out with Jimmy and Chrissie, he submitted. He could not risk making Dana angry; she was predictable when she was happy.
After Dana was finished with Tommy, she turned her attention to Jimmy. Soon he was changed out of his messy diaper and dressed in a manner very similar to that of Tommy, although it was clear at a glance that Jimmy was a boy dressed in girls' clothing, whereas Tommy more easily passed as a girl. This thought occurred to Tommy, and he was not sure whether to be thankful of more embarrassed by it.
Dana led her little babies down to breakfast, where they found Chrissie already present. She was dressed in big girl clothes, but Tommy could tell immediately that she was still diapered. She smiled a small, slightly embarrassed smile at him, knowing where his eyes were. But anyone who saw her would think nothing of her outfit, especially with the spectacle of Tommy and Jimmy around to distract them.
"It's such a beautiful day," said Dana, "that I think we all should go to the park."
Tommy winced. He had known she would do this, of course--it was in fact a part of his plan--but going there dressed like this, even if things worked out as he hoped they would, was hard to take. He thought about it, and decided it would look odd if he did not protest a bit.
"Dana," he said, "please--don't make me go to the park dressed this way."
She smiled at him. "Why Tina, Sweetie, what's wrong with the way you're dressed? That's one of the prettiest sundresses I could find, and it's going to be a warm, sunny day. All of your little friends will be jealous."
He winced again, hoping that none of his "little friends" from school would be there. Not that he had actually met anyone--this situation had rather prevented the formation of many relationships--but someone might recognize him, especially since they'd probably be staring at him.
Dana seemed to be staring at him deeply. "But you know," she said, "I think you're right. There is something wrong." She walked over to a drawer in the kitchen and withdrew a piece of fabric.
"I forgot to do something with your beautiful hair." Dana crossed over to Tommy and tied his long hair back with the shimmering pink ribbon in her hand. "There," she said; "now you look much nicer and much prettier."
Chrissie, who had not even looked up at any of this, stirred from her breakfast and spoke, still without looking at Dana or anyone.
"Dana, you're going too far."
Her little sister snapped at her. "Don't get me started, Baby Chrissie," she said, "or I am sure that I can find something nice for you to wear also."
Jimmy and Tommy did not say a word. And Chrissie simply continued until her cereal was gone and then got up, noticing for the first time that Dana was still looking at her.
"Where do you think you are going, young lady?" Dana asked.
"To get ready to take Jimmy to the park," Chrissie said.
Dana smiled. "I don't remember your asking permission to leave the table."
Chrissie thought about something, but held it in. She sat back down in her chair and looked at Dana. Then, in a gentle voice, she asked, "May I please be excused, Dana?"
Dana smiled a huge smile at the victory over her older sister, and nodded Yes. But she could not resist one more zinger as Chrissie walked away: "Chrissie, you don't need a change before we go, do you?"
Chrissie stopped, blushing. She thought for a moment, then meekly turned back. "No, Dana. Mom changed me when I got up."
Dana smiled again. "That's good; we don't want our little girls to get a rash. Oh, by the way, Mom said she would meet us there this morning; she has the day off. And," she added, for Tommy's benefit, in what she obviously hoped would be a very embarrassing note, "Mandy will be there."
Tommy blushed at the thought, but held in a small smile of his own: things were going exactly as he had planned.
Chapter Twenty Seven: Return to the Park
There were already several children playing in the park as they made their way up the path, an odd collection of humanity if ever one could be arranged: Jimmy, the big baby boy dressed as a girl for no apparent reason; Tommy, the older boy who, if you did not look closely, might easily be a ten or twelve year old girl wearing diapers; Chrissie, a fairly normal looking sixteen-year-old except for her bulging behind; and Dana, clearly in charge of all of them, leading them into the play area.
The four of them moved slowly beneath the trees until Dana had manoeuvred them close enough to play on the swings and slides with her sitting and watching from a bench. The three diapered children walked quietly over to the swings and began to use them, but their play was listless and sullen: these children were not having much fun in the park, unlike the other children who were there, more normal-sized children, a couple still in diapers but most having outgrown them, who were laughing and yelling and enjoying this late summer morning.
Dana left her perch on the bench and moved toward the playground. "Tina," she called, and Tommy stopped what he was doing and looked at her. "What's wrong, Sweetie?"
His eyes swept the ground. "Nothing, Dana," he responded, and his dress swished through the air on the too-small swing.
"Then why aren't you having fun like these other kids?" she asked, and he wanted to tell her that perhaps he wasn't having fun like these other kids because he was nineteen years old and dressed in these ridiculous girls' clothes and this diaper, and perhaps he might be enjoying himself a bit more if he were allowed to act his age, and (except that he couldn't bear the humiliation of having it changed) he would have liked to mention that he couldn't really enjoy himself because he had wet himself on the way over and needed a change. He wanted to say all or some of this, but all he did was mumble, "I'm having fun, Dana."
"Well," she replied, "I hope that I hear some more fun coming out of this group or I'll be very angry, and who knows what will happen when Mom gets here."
As she moved back to her seat, the sounds of the three "girls" playing loudly behind her made Dana smile; she enjoyed this power even if she was not altogether certain why she had it. Why was she never singled out for this punishment? Surely she was as guilty of being bad as Chrissie ever was; in fact, Dana had to admit--at least to herself-- that Chrissie was a bit of a goody-two-shoes who really never did much that was wrong. Yet Mom always found reasons to punish her older sister and never her. And then there was Jimmy, and now Tommy--sometimes she could not even believe what they were allowing her to do to them, but the control was wonderful. Every time she thought of it she broke into a huge smile. She did not enjoy their pain--she was certainly not that much of a sadist--but she loved her power. And she feared what might happen to her if her mother ever found she was not carrying out the dictates of that power.
Several smaller children were playing around the girls, and Dana could hear them as they teased Tommy and Jimmy. They said little to Chrissie; perhaps they did not realize that she too was diapered. But who could miss her brother and cousin, the way she had them dressed?
Two girls--each about six years old--were taunting the teenage boys, begging to see their diapers, which they could not hide anyway beneath their short dresses.
"Come on," they chanted, "you can't hide them. What's wrong? Are the babies all wet?"
The two girls stared dancing and singing around the big babies. "The babies are all wet! They need to change their diapers!"
Dana came over from her bench to find out what was going on. When she heard the girls' chant, she asked her three charges if it was true. Tommy, red-faced, looked at the ground without answering.
"Come with me, Tina," Dana ordered, and he moved slowly from the swing in the direction of the bench as the little girls' chant changed to "The baby's getting her diaper changed."
Suddenly, Tommy realized that these little girls actually thought that he was at least a girl. How mercilessly they would tease him when they learned the full extent of his humiliation, he didn't even want to guess.
"I'm OK, Dana. Really."
She slipped a hand into his crotch and squeezed the sodden mass beneath it. "You're soaked, Tina. Now come with me," she said, and they walked off to the bench.
"What's going on over here?" The mother of one of the girls had come into the play area. Her daughter explained that these older kids were in diapers still. The woman surveyed the three "older kids."
"Who is in charge here?" she asked sternly.
Chrissie was the one who responded. "Dana, my sister," she said. "She's over there."
The woman left the two babies, dragging her little girl behind her. She moved over to the bench where Dana was busy changing Tommy.
"That girl says that you are in charge, young lady."
Dana smiled as she pinned the new diaper onto Tommy, who was thankful for the moment that the mother had prevented her daughter's seeing his genitals. Chrissie would say that; she knew what was good for her.
"Yes, Ma'am," she replied, pulling up the lacy plastic pants. "I guess I am. Are they doing anything bad?"
The woman was clearly not happy. "I have a problem with these teenagers being in the park dressed in this way. There is something sick about it, and I do not want my child exposed to it."
Dana was not certain how to respond, and Tommy wondered what was about to happen.
A loud, clear voice broke over the silence. "What is it that you disapprove of, Madam?" Dana turned and saw her mother.
Julia continued. "These children are my responsibilities. They have all been very bad and are being punished in manners appropriate to their misbehaviour. This one here, for example, has been wetting her bed and even wetting herself during the day."
Tommy winced involuntarily at the feminine pronoun.
Julia went on. "Would you rather have me beat them? Should I lock them in closets?"
The woman was shocked. "Well, no, of course--" she stammered.
"No," Julia said. "You wouldn't. Yet you would deny me this most reliable and most effective punishment. Why? How does it hurt your child to see this?"
The woman tried to regain her composure. "She's just an impressionable girl. What is she supposed to think when--"
Julia interrupted her again. "She's supposed to think that it could happen to her, too, if she is bad. I think that this punishment might, in fact, keep all of the children in the neighbourhood from misbehaving, if other parents used it as an example.
Julia interrupted her again. "She's supposed to think that it could happen to her, too, if she is bad. I think that this punishment might, in fact, keep all of the children in the neighbourhood from misbehaving, if other parents used it as an example."
Astounded, the woman could find no answer to Julia. And her shock grew even stronger when she saw, clearly, yet another enormously overgrown baby girl waddling up the path. Her jaw dropped noticeably, and Julia turned and saw Mandy.
"Why, it's Mandy! Don't you just look adorable. And Bob Fenton: I haven't seen you in ages."
Julia and Dana both turned their full attention to the newcomers, and the woman who had been complaining, unsure of what to make of this epidemic of big babies, took her daughter by the hand and walked away.
Mandy was dressed in a pink lace-trimmed dress, and her pink diapers were extremely evident beneath it. She held a large pacifier in her mouth, which her father explained she was using because she had complained about going to the park this morning. The "children" were sent to play with the other babies while the "grownups" talked.
"Has it got a chance?" Tommy asked her as they climbed onto the swings.
Mandy spoke muffled words around her pacifier, which she did not dare let drop. "I hofe fo," she said. "I waf if foo."
"I want it to, too, Mandy," said Tommy.
Chapter Twenty Eight: Swinging Babies
The sound of adult laughter wafted over the breeze to the four "girls" swinging on the swings, and Mandy and Tommy smiled to hear Julia and Bob getting along so well.
"What do you think?" he asked her as they passed each other at the base f their swing.
She blushed just a bit, as if embarrassed for her father to have any kind of love life, but quietly responded with a smile, "They like each other; I'm sure of it."
Chrissie and Jimmy continued to swing together, almost in unison, and for a short time the four of them just floated through the breeze and listened to the unintelligible but happy voices from the bench at the edge of the play area. There Dana and the two older people sat, and Julia and Bob were clearly enjoying themselves more than her daughter. Dana was a bit listless, and longed to be doing something else. At first, when Mr. Fenton had come to join them, everything was fun, but she realized now that the fun came from the power she held over the babies, and with two real grownups here her power was clearly diminished. She wanted to go and play with some of her own friends, but she felt suddenly as if she were being imposed upon, as if she were only needed as a backup babysitter so that the adults could be alone without responsibilities.
A few times she tried unsuccessfully to hint to her mother that she would like to go home, but there had been no response to the idea, so she sat, pretending to be interested in the grownup talk, listening to the children playing in the park, and realizing that even the babies seemed to be having more fun than she was as they flew on the swings and talked together. At least they were with people their own age, she thought, and smiled as she wondered exactly what that age might be. It was her first smile in many minutes.
On the swings, Chrissie was the first to notice the six-year-olds' return; the girls who had teased hem so mercilessly earlier had managed to slip their mother's outraged protection--or maybe she had decided to go along with Julia's idea of using the diaper punishment as a warning--and they were inching back toward the babies. The timing was bad for Mandy, who was struggling as much as she could against the onset of what she knew from experience would be a very large bowel movement. Just as the little girls got close enough to start teasing them again, Mandy had to stop her swinging to satisfy nature. There was no place to hide, and, try as she might to be nonchalant, there was no hiding what she was doing.
"Oh, gross," one of the six-year-olds cried out. "That baby is messing her diaper!"
The little girls laughed at Mandy, who by now was off the swing and doubled over near the ground. "The baby is messing her diaper," they started to chant, and Mandy, although she had been exposed so many times in her life this way, began to cry. The tears surprised her a bit, but perhaps it was the fact that Tommy and the others were there, or maybe it was the pain of the constipation that made her push even harder than usual, her face reddening with more than her blush as she grunted to fill the diaper. "The baby is messing her diaper!"
Tommy slowed down his swinging when he realized what was happening, as did his cousins. He called out to the little girls. "Leave her alone," he cried. "Go away!"
But it was Jimmy who sprang into action first. Before Tommy could even get his swing slowed down enough to get off, Jimmy was at Mandy's side. Anyone looking at the scene as a passer-by might have found it very odd: a teenage boy dressed in a baby dress and diapers huddling over a teenage girl in diapers, protecting her from a gaping and chanting groups of six-year-old girls while two other teenage girls in diapers swung nearby. Jimmy huddled next to the indisposed Mandy. "Just go away," he said. "Give her a little privacy."
"Privacy?" asked a voice from behind. "Babies don't care about privacy, Jimmy." Dana had come down from the bench to check out the commotion; it was certainly more fun than listening to her mother and Mr. Fenton talk about old Elvis songs. At the sound of her brother's name, the little girls' attention suddenly became drawn to his clothing, and they began to tease him even more, as if they had only just realized that he was male. "Oh, what a cute dress this sissy boy baby is wearing," one of them said as Jimmy stayed on the ground next to Mandy. "Look at his frilly plastic pants!"
Tommy said nothing, afraid to give himself away to their teasing and grateful, in an ironic way, that he was made up so convincingly as a girl. He and Chrissie just sat there, hoping the children would leave.
Dana had made her way to the swings by then and could see what the problem was. Mandy was finally finished, but the smell was awful and she clearly was uncomfortable. He remained on the ground, crying, with Jimmy at her side. Dana called back up to the grown-ups.
"Mandy made a mess," she yelled. "Do you want to change her?"
Mr. Fenton called back, "Would you do it, please, Dana? I'd appreciate it."
Mandy looked at Dana, hoping the younger girl would refuse, but Dana knew better. Her power lay in the fact that her mother knew she would obey any request, and there was really no way to refuse. She was the babysitter, after all. She reached down and helped Mandy to her feet and led her off toward the bench where her father sat with Julia. Turning to her brother, she said, "You come too, Jimmy; I can see from your sagging diaper that you need a change too."
The little girls, fascinated at the opportunity to watch the big babies being changed, followed in a clump. On the swings, Chrissie and Tommy could hear the children's derisive laughter as the diapers were being changed.
"That was awfully brave of Jimmy," his sister said. "He must have known he was exposing himself to them. I haven't seen him act so gallantly in a long time."
Tommy nodded, his eyes trained on the distant re-diapering. "I think he likes her," he said.
She smiled. "Oh, he does," she said quietly. "He always has."
"What's going to happen?" he asked her.
She turned to him, still smiling. "Off hand," she offered, "I'd say we're in for an interesting few weeks."
The eighteen-year-old boy in the dress and diapers pondered the notion that anything could be more "interesting" than his last few weeks, and couldn't help a small laugh. He realized that he desperately needed a change, and hoped it would not be in front of those girls. But he also realized, staring at his beautiful cousin in her own diapered condition, that it was the first laugh he'd had in a long time.
Chapter Twenty Nine: Another Punishment
There were classes to attend during the week, but Tommy hardly seemed to be paying any attention. He was there, of course, but spending more and more of his time just trying to make sure that no one was paying any attention to him. The girls' clothing that Dana dressed him in and the way she made him wear his hair did not help, but universities are homes to lots of odd dressers, and he hoped that they would assume that he was just weird or gay--it didn't matter anyway; he was obviously never going to have any relationships with any of them.
As the week wore on, he came to realize that, although people noticed his clothing--and perhaps even his diapers, especially when they were wet--no one really seemed to care. It was not at all like grade school or high school, when every small fault was magnified a hundred times by the court of peer review and he was found terribly wanting. College was far more relaxed, and people were inclined to let others do their own thing. He saw people dressed in plastic, men dressed in showy drag, women wearing what appeared to be underwear, and all manners of interesting dress. And although people certainly noticed these strange folks and even, sometimes, stared, no one really seemed to care. And it seemed as if his sweet little girl in diapers bit was being treated the same way, if anyone really noticed him at all. He was once again grateful that he really did look so much like a girl. In fact, he realized, the skirts he wore hid the diapers a heck of a lot better than pants would.
With that revelation, the week passed more quickly and Tommy could ponder the events of the upcoming weekend. The plan was working well--they all agreed on that--but it was obvious that this week would be critical. He had had three late night sessions with Chrissie already this week, making sure everything was planned well. It was dangerous to meet that way--her punishment had ended on Monday, and she was back in her normal clothes, but she was still being watched carefully by Dana. However, she was a major part of the plot. And Tommy was convinced more than ever that it would work.
Saturday night was the crucial part of the whole plan. If the dinner party did not go well, Tommy thought, then he might as well resign himself to several years as Dana's personal baby. In some ways, he was impressed that things had moved this smoothly and this quickly. How Chrissie had planted the seed about inviting the Fenton's to dinner, he did not know, but it had worked, and now things seemed to be going his way for the first time since his arrival, if you could overlook the diapers and the dresses.
Of course, on the weekend Dana was more picky about his clothes. Instead of the "big girl" clothes that she allowed him to wear to school, she insisted that Tina wear only romper-type dresses on weekends. He did not even know where she got them, but they looked just like baby dresses except that they were much bigger, and his padded behind stuck out from the lacy plastic panties below the petticoats. He knew he looked more like a little girl than ever, but it would be obvious to everyone that he was far too old to be wearing such an outfit, and he was sure that was part of Dana's plan.
His outfit embarrassed him so much that he almost did not want to play outside, but he knew he had to. He had not been able to see Chrissie last night, as she had not been in yet when he fell asleep, and he had to find a safe place to talk with her to make sure everything was OK. After breakfast, then, Tina went out into the back yard to play, hoping that Chrissie would join her.
It didn't take long, but Tommy could see at once that something was wrong. Chrissie had been crying; her face was red and tear-streaked, and she was still visibly sobbing. Tommy instinctively glanced at her behind, but she was not diapered.
"No, it's not that," she said, obviously aware of his thoughts. "I'll be OK."
"What's wrong, Chrissie?" he said softly, taking her hand in his. "I hate to see you cry."
She looked up at the face of her cousin, Tommy's pretty face floating above the yellow, frilly dress. At another time, the sight might have made her laugh, but not this time. Something about his sincerity opened the valves, and her tears started flowing.
"No, no," he pleaded. "Don't cry. Whatever it is, I'm sure--"
"No," she interrupted through tears. "You can't help this one. It's Bobby."
At the mention of her boyfriend's name, Tommy abruptly stopped gently rubbing her hands, only then becoming aware that he had even been doing it.
"Bobby? I thought you guys were pretty much over."
Long nights in her bedroom, Chrissie had talked about things in her life, including the boy she had been out too late with twice, the boy for whose imagined faults the diaper punishment had been invented in the first place. But she had not spoken of him lately.
Chrissie looked right at him before she worked up the strength to speak. "I think, this time, maybe we are," she said. He waited for her to want to continue. "I saw him last night. I don't know; maybe it was stupid. But my friend Emily said he was seeing someone else and I had to ask him. We ended up talking until way after three o'clock."
"Jesus!" Tommy said. "3:00! You're lucky you didn't get caught."
"I know," she said. "I can only imagine what they would have done to me." Her tears were not as thick now, and she seemed more under control. Talking was helping. "But I don't know if we solved anything anyway. He said he would drop back over this afternoon."
Tommy weighed his words carefully. "This afternoon? What about the supper?"
She paused a second. Then suddenly Tommy could see a flash of recognition. "Oh no," she said, "don't worry about that. He'll be long gone by then. If he even shows up. We fought a lot, Tommy; I don't know where I stand; I'm not even sure I know him any more."
They sat for a long time in silence, interrupted only by Dana's call from the house. "Tina? Come on in, Sweetheart; it's time for lunch. You too, Chrissie. Mom wants to see you."
In the house, Tommy found that Jimmy was already strapped into the high chair, so he got to use a "big girl" seat at the table. Dana fed him his lunch next to Chrissie, and each spoonful further dashed his already miniscule pride. But Tommy was surprised that Dana was not more talkative; his younger cousin seemed to be staring wistfully at her sister for much of the meal, as if waiting for something.
The kitchen door suddenly swung open, and "something" appeared, in the imposing form of Aunt Julia.
"Chrissie, come here," she said, and her daughter obeyed instantly.
"Where were you last night?" her mother demanded.
Chrissie glanced at Tommy, and both knew there was no way out. If Julia asked the question, you could bet she already knew the answer. There was no sense denying it.
"I was talking with Bobby," she said.
Aunt Julia glowered. "'Talking?' You were just 'talking,' is that it?"
"Until 3:00 in the morning?"
Tommy and Chrissie both saw Dana's smirk at the same time, and they knew that she had been the one to see her sister come in. In the high chair, Jimmy hung his head, certain of what would come next.
"Well?" Julia's voice was as shrill as it could get; in Tommy's limited experience, that was a very bad sign.
Chrissie bowed her head. "Yes, Mother," she said softly.
Julia's face suddenly grew calm, as if a strain has been lifted from it and the tension withdrawn. She turned to her youngest daughter. "Dana," she said, "take Chrissie upstairs and dress her."
Dana's face betrayed her delight, and she held out her hand to her older sister. "Come on, Baby Chrissie," she said. "Time for a new diaper."
"Yes," said Julia. "A new diaper. And nothing over it."
Chrissie looked up at her mother. "What?"
"You heard me, young lady. I have given you many chances, and you have abused them. And Dana tells me that she is sure you have been doing something this week; she thought she heard voices from your room late at night but they were gone when she got there. So yesterday is not the only time. You need a punishment that will be memorable, since obviously the diapers don't do it when you can cover them up. Therefore, for this afternoon, you will wear nothing over the diapers."
"But Mom, what about---"
"Nothing!" Julia said sternly. "Babies are not embarrassed to be running around with their diapers showing, and neither will you be."
Dana giggled. "What time will the Fenton's be here, Mom?"
"A little after 4:00," Julia replied. "And the punishment stands." She looked at Jimmy and Tommy, suddenly aware that they were in the room. "In fact, I think I'll make it a general punishment. All babies will wear nothing over their diapers today and this evening. Dana, take care of it."
Chrissie once again attempted to persuade her mother. "Please, Mom; I didn't do anything wrong! Why don't you believe me?"
Julia turned to her with sudden force and grabbed Chrissie, throwing her over her knee and sitting down in one motion. In a split second, Chrissie's pants and panties were off, and Julia's hand was thrashing her daughter's bared bottom.
"No! Please stop! Please!" Chrissie cried, but Julia continued the spanking as the others watched. Finally, when it seemed as if Chrissie had nothing left to cry, Julia stopped. Chrissie, tears streaming down her face, buns red and sore, was led off by Dana.
Julia halted them on the steps. "One more thing," she said. "Since you obviously do not think that what I have already outlined is enough, the three of you will wear nothing at all this afternoon except for your diapers."
Chrissie's shocked expression said it all.
"Nothing!" Julia reiterated. "Babies do not wear anything but diapers on such a hot day."
Within a very few minutes, Chrissie, Tommy and Jimmy all found themselves in the yard wearing nothing but diapers. Thanking God every minute for the privacy fence, Tommy hoped he could make it through this day, although he was not sure that this was worse that the baby dress. Jimmy sat sullenly on a step, and Chrissie, shocked and embarrassed, wandered aimlessly about the yard, trying in vain to hold her arms across her bared breasts. Jimmy hardly glanced at them, but Tommy had to tell himself not to stare. He had seen very few breasts in his life, and none as pretty as Chrissie's. The fact that she was wearing nothing but a diaper seemed suddenly not so silly as it was cute; Tommy hoped he was too, but felt that he probably just looked ridiculous.
They had been out for about an hour when Tommy noticed Chrissie crouching in a corner by some bushes, not even trying to cross her arms. Her face was red; he was only too aware of what that meant.
As she finished her business, Tommy heard the back door open. Dana stood there, a huge smile on her face. "Baby Chrissie," she called, "I have a surprise for you. You've got a visitor!"
Terrified, Chrissie scrambled to her feet. "No," she cried. "No--don't let him come out here--please, don't--" She tried to hide herself, but there was no cover, and she stood there naked except for a wet and very messy diaper as her boyfriend walked out into the yard.
Chapter 30: Standing Tall
by baby k
There was no place to hide.
Chrissy stood there, tears streaming down her reddened face. Her arms,
unsure whether to hide her naked breasts or her bulging diapers, hung loosely
at her side. Bobby stared in awe, also unable to move, taking in the scene.
His eyes were as uncertain where to settle as were Chrissy's arms.
Tommy and Jimmy watched as Dana gloated at the door, observing her sister's
humiliation. She beamed as she saw the look on Bobby's face change from
confusion and shock to something unmistakably colder and darker. His stare
did not waver, but his mind was at work.. Whatever he had come to tell her,
all bets were off now. Slowly, after what seemed to Tommy to be an eternity,
he started to laugh. It was not a good humored laugh, a joke shared among
friends, but the sadistic laugh of a person who had the upper hand and knew
it. It was Dana's laugh, but it came from Bobby.
"I'm not even sure I believe what I am seeing," he said.
Chrissy tried to speak. "Bobby, I--"
"No," he interrupted. "Don't say anything, Chrissy. Or perhaps Dana is
right; maybe I should call you 'Baby Chrissy.'"
"Please," she begged. "Don't--"
He would not let her speak. "'Don't?' Don't what, Baby Chrissy? Don't see
you standing here with these other big babies in just a diaper? Don't think
about the way you talked to me yesterday in that superior tone? Don't wonder
why I worried about what you thought about Jill when she is clearly more of a
woman than you are?"
He was not laughing any more, and every word he spoke drilled into Chrissy's
mind, searing her, severing whatever they had had forever. She stood still,
broken and silent. Even her tears made no sound.
Tommy moved suddenly from his perch and took a spot between Chrissy and
Bobby. He stood as firmly as he could, fixing his eyes on the taunting boy
with as much chill in his voice as he could muster.
"Leave her alone," he said simply. "Go away."
As angry as he was, Bobby cracked up at the sight of this big baby boy
standing up for the big baby girl. Ordinarily he probably would have wanted
to punch Tommy, but there was no way to do it; how could he swing at an
overgrown toddler? The idea was ludicrous, and the tableau remained until
Bobby's laughter subsided.
Tommy stood stiffly, with as much pride as he could find. "Just go away," he
repeated. "You've hurt her enough."
"And are you her protector now? What are you going to do? Spit your
pacifier at me?"
Tommy stood still, never even looking back at Chrissy, his eyes fixed evenly
on Bobby's. "Please," he said. "Please leave."
Bobby looked as if he were about to say something, but he never got the
opportunity. Dana stepped down from the doorway and moved toward Tommy. As
she passed Bobby, she smiled at him.
"I see you've found the play area, Bobby. I'm sorry my baby sister is not
She stopped in front of Tommy. "Step aside, Tina," she said firmly.
"'Tina'?" repeated Bobby incredulously.
Tommy briefly considered defiance, but he knew from experience that it would
get him nowhere and ultimately cause even more trouble. "Yes, Dana," he
replied meekly as he stepped out of her way.
Bobby was stunned. "Jeez," he said, smiling. "To think I was gonna deck you
when all I needed was to call your babysitter."
Dana held out her hand to her sister. "Come inside, Baby Chrissy," she said.
"I think you need a change." She slipped her hand into the waistband of
Chrissy's diaper and winced immediately. "Oh, brother! Do you ever!"
"Dana, please," Chrissy whispered. "Please…"
Dana grabbed her sister's hand roughly. "Come now, Chrissy, or I'll do it
She turned, holding her sister by the hand, leading her into the house. In
front of a still-amazed Bobby, she paused. "You'll have to excuse us, now,
Bobby. My baby sister needs a diaper change badly, as I'm sure you can
The smell of Chrissy's diaper had reached Bobby at that instant, and he
reacted to it, wincing and pulling away. "God," he said, "I guess so. Well,
you'd better change it, then, Dana. Wouldn't want the baby to get a rash,
Tommy was not certain what happened next, or why. Maybe it was the
despicable way in which her former boyfriend was treating Chrissy that made
him snap. Maybe it was the smirk on Dana's face. Maybe it was his own
vulnerability, his very masculinity open to question in front of a stranger.
But he thought that it was Chrissy, her body limp in Dana's hand, her sobs
coming harder, uncontrollably, her pretty face red and weeping. Whatever the
reason, though, he found himself, as if being controlled by someone else--led
by the hand as firmly as Chrissy was--suddenly leaping at Bobby and knocking
him to the ground.
He climbed on top of the surprised boy and began to pummel him, landing blow
after blow, taking advantage of the fact that he had caught Bobby off guard.
When Bobby began hitting back, Tommy had already gotten in several
meaningful punches. He was yelling things, not even certain of what he was
saying, but furious that this boy whom his cousin had so cared for was
treating her so callously. Then he felt Jimmy's arms pulling him up, and
heard Dana's voice telling him to stop, and, as suddenly as it had begun, the
assault was over. Tommy's face was bleeding, and so was Bobby's.
"You son of a bitch!" Bobby yelled. "You've broken my nose!" He cupped his
hands over his face, tears in his eyes.
Tommy glared at him, more in control than he had been at any moment since he
had arrived at Aunt Julia's house. "Good," he said. "Now be sure to tell
the doctors at the hospital that a baby boy did this to you. Be sure to tell
all of your friends, too. Because I swear to you: if you ever come near her
again or breathe a word of this to anyone, I will be the one to tell them,
and you will forever be the kid who got beat up by a baby."
Jimmy eased his grip on Tommy's arm, amazed by his cousin's words. Tommy,
still naked except for his now dirt-covered diapers, stood tall, breathing
heavily. There was no question that he would go at it again if the other boy
Bobby looked slowly from Tommy to Chrissy, who stood staring at her cousin.
He kept one hand over his face as he silently turned to leave. At the
doorway, he stopped and looked back at the three babies and their mistress,
especially at the one who had done this to him.
"I'll get you someday, Tina," he said, and disappeared into the house.
Jimmy felt his cousin begin to crumble and barely managed to catch him. All
of Tommy's strength gave way, and he collapsed in Jimmy's arm. Chrissy ran
to him and helped him up.
"Tommy! Tommy, are you OK?" she asked, almost pleading.
"He won't be when I get through with him," Aunt Julia's booming voice said
from the doorway. They all turned to see her furious face, and they all saw
the paddle in her hand.
"How dare you hurt that boy?" she demanded. "I do not need a lawsuit, little
girl." Tommy winced a bit at the reminder of his status. "And you have put
me in danger of one. I do not accept my babies fighting anywhere, anytime.
Now get into the house. Dana: you have obviously been remiss in your
duties, letting this disgrace occur. You will change Chrissy and then spend
the evening in your room."
"Do not even start, young lady. You know better."
Her mother glared, and Dana melted. "Yes, Mom," she said softly, and led
Chrissy away into the house.
Aunt Julia turned back to the diapered boys. "Jimmy, go up to your room
until supper time. Tina, you come with me."
She walked without another word back into the house, heading for the parlor.
As Jimmy and Tommy walked into the house behind her, Tommy knew exactly what
I am surprised this story has been allowed to be posted on this site. I thought this site did not condone abuse of children. This is abundant in this story. In fact I find Aunt Julia's action repugnant. Her gross physical, emotional and pyschological abuse of three children is gross and extreme. She needs to brought to task over this in fact a visit from the authorities wouldn't go a miss. I find her evil, vindicative and uncaring. The same needs to happen to Dana - she's an evil little cow - like mother like daughter. I see the story is not complete well I hope it is completed and some balance is added and these abusive actions are stopped forth with. I don't have a problem with the use of nappies to help with bedwetting but when blatant physical and pyschological abuse is used that's crossing the line. Where are the authorities in this? Where is Tommy's mother in this stopping this action? And as far as Bobby being attacked - he deserved it. Aunt Julia being worried about a law suit is a crock she should be worried about a prison sentence for her actions. Let's see some retribution in this story!