Pat 's hand was shaking as he put down the phone. It was a warm Friday afternoon and he
had taken the day off work to fix a few things around the house. He had worked hard all
day, and now he had something wonderful to look forward to.
Pat and Sally had started playing their games a few years before. The trigger was a fancy
dress party held by Ursula, one of Sally's best friends.
Sally had gone as a nurse's aide - it was her first job after leaving school, and her old
uniform still fit perfectly. After much discussion and rejection of alternatives, and after
Sally had overcome Pat's considerable embarrassment, Pat had gone as a baby.
He had got out of the car at the party feeling very conspicuous. He had some dignity, he
thought, and didn't relish the thought of being probably the only baby amongst the
collection of other exotic personas.
As it was, he was the only baby, and he had a ball. His chubby face and small stature
complemented the simple costume of a thick white towel as a diaper below, and one of
Sally's printed pyjama tops above. Pat soon found himself very popular with the women at
the gathering. He was clucked and cooed over by both the older and younger women.
Many of the couples they knew at the time were yet to produce children, and 'little Pattie'
as Sally had announced him (or her - Pat wasn't too sure whether his gender had survived
the change of appearance) was the highlight of the evening. For his part, Pat had had no
objection to the attention of these sweet-smelling, giggling women. He found himself
joining in with all the jokes about diaper changing, and even feeling pleasantly aroused.
Nothing like being close to women, he thought happily.
The wine flowed along with the jokes, and when some of the more enthusiastic women
managed to pull down Pat's 'diaper', he went along with the subsequent removal, to the
general hilarity of the women present, of the briefs he wore under the pinned bath-towel.
'Babies don't wear underpants!' laughed one of Sally's workmates as Pat was 'de-briefed'
and rediapered in the approved fashion.
Most of the other guys at the party ignored the squealing and giggling going on around Pat,
and probably felt somewhat safer in their gladiator or fireman's outfits.
Pat was quite drunk but the time they left. He had been sucking Drambuie from a baby
bottle someone had found for him. Sally, who as usual had left the party significantly more
sober than Pat, drove home. Pat, asleep in the seat next to her, was mumbling and
drooling slightly. Sally looked at him and thought how cute he looked. With a grin, she
picked up the adult size pacifier pinned by a ribbon to his top, and popped it in his mouth.
Sally had found the item at a novelty counter a few months before and had bought it as a
laugh without really knowing when she would find an opportunity to use it. It had been
quite a hit at the party, with Pat having to demonstrate his prowess at speaking with it
between his lips. Pat's mumbling and drooling stopped as sucked gently at the latex teat.
His young wife shifted in her seat, and let one hand drop into her crotch. She found the
thought of Pattie as a helpless infant, sucking his (or her, she thought with a sudden
pleasant thrill) pacifier, a real turn-on. Feeling quite shameless, she pulled back her
nurse's skirt, slid her fingers inside her panties and stroked herself to a series of delicious
orgasms as they drove on.
Once home, Sally led her waddling, sleepy husband inside. She wasn't really surprised to
find Pat had wet his diaper. He was prone to accidents of that sort when drunk.
Sally felt very naughty as she rediapered the unknowing Pat with another big white towel
before settling him into bed. She cuddled up to her babified husband, and was soon as out
to it as he was.
The next morning, Pat was woke hung over and grumpy. He complained about being put to
bed in his diaper, and complained even more when he found the other towel, wet, on the
'Sally, I'm sorry I wet that stupid thing - I was drunk - but you didn't have to put another
one on me,' he said, trying to slide the tightly pinned folds from his loins.
'Well, you were very wet, baby,' said Sally with a smile, 'and I wasn't going to let my baby
have another big accident in bed, was I?'
Pat grunted something unintelligible.
Sally helped Pat off with his diaper, then, at Sally's suggestion, the two returned to bed
and made love. Despite his sore head, Pat found himself enjoying Sally's continuation of
the previous evening's role play. He found the combination of infantile treatment and adult
lovemaking intoxicating, although he kept that news to himself. Pat fell in willingly with
Sally's baby-talk, and enjoyed the best sex they had experienced in their young marriage.
So 'Baby Pattie' became their secret. The couple's role-playing continued, and Pat looked
forward excitedly to the times when Sally let him know that 'mommy wanted him to come
to bed' or whatever. Somehow, it seemed right to let her decide when the time was right
for one of their little games. She was the Mommy, after all.
And now, Pat was waiting, dressed in the thick, elasticated, print briefs and a coloured t-
shirt with a playful dragon on the front. Pat didn't know where Sally found such clothes,
but he was glad to be wearing them. They added so much to the mood of their games, he thought.
An hour later, Pat heard Sally's car drive into the garage. He had put off having a pee so
that he could wet the diaper and plastic pants Sally would shortly be dressing him in. He
stood in the kitchen, clutching his privates through the thick briefs, hoping she would hurry
up. He had already wet the briefs a little, and was eagerly anticipating Sally's
remonstrations about how he needed a diaper if he couldn't keep his 'big-kid' pants dry.
By six months after the party and that first incredible morning of lovemaking, the game
had gone from being a weekly event lasting a few hours to something more drawn out. Pat
had more or less given away weekend social activities with his male friends, who assumed
he was either under the thumb of his attractive wife, or maybe just getting heaps of sex
from her while they were avoiding their own wives and the other elements of domesticity
by their fishing and hunting pursuits.
Sally and Pattie were spending most of their weekends as mother and child. Pat
occasionally wondered if they were getting too much of a good thing, but the game was so
seductive, almost drug-like, that he was not going to be the one to call a halt to it.