My Return to the Nursery - Part II

I don’t know exactly how long Mommy kept me under the control of the Complete 24 Hour Baby program. I had no real sense of time and one day is pretty much the same as another in a baby’s life. Each night Mommy would give me a shot before settling me into my crib with the headphones over my ears. Each morning I awoke anew to the experience of being as much of a real baby as my mind could imagine.

My diapers were always wet and sometimes messy whenever I awoke in my crib. This was as natural and normal as any baby’s diaper use. I never minded being wet, even to the point of flooding my diapers, but I didn’t like being in messy ones for long. I always cried to be changed if I was messy. Mommy would begin my day by cleaning me on my changing table before leading me to the bathroom for my morning bath time. Mommy liked to suds me with lots of soapy foam, and I was always baby smooth and pink all over after my bath.

Of course I had to be diapered again immediately after my bath. The only time I wasn’t diapered anymore was when I was being bathed or having my diapers changed. Each morning, Mommy would dress me in a simple pink or nursery print onesie, and lead me to the kitchen to have breakfast in my highchair. Mommy was always careful to tie a big plastic baby bib around my neck because I always made a big mess when she fed me strained baby fruits and cereal. Half of it seemed to be on my chin or cheeks rather than in my toothless mouth by the end of breakfast.

I spent most of my days in my playpen in the living room with Sprout or some other pre-school program playing. Sometimes Mommy left me to crawl about my nursery playing with my baby toys, dolls, and stuffed animals before my afternoon naps. To adults, a baby’s life might seem monotonous and boring, but it certainly wasn’t for me. Every moment of every day was filled with things that seemed brand new and amazing to me. Even if I were watching an Eebee Beebee Baby video for the twentieth time in a row, I was as delighted and surprised as the babies I saw each and every time. Stacking blocks never seemed dull, and I would always feel surprised when they fell or I knocked them over. I had a baby’s attention span and little short term memory.

My subconscious was still there, of course, watching all this infantile behavior with an adult’s eye. Under the effects of Complete 24 Hour Baby, however, my conscious baby mind was blissfully unaware of the lurking adult awareness.

When Mommy brought me out of Complete Baby mode that first time, the restoration of my “adult” faculties was even more amazing to experience than anything else I’d felt under the control of Mommy’s hypnotic programming.

I’d been stunned from the beginning by each change in my behavior and emotions that Mommy was able to condition me to experience. Losing all control of my bladder had been literally a dream come true as the reality actually exceeded my fantasies. I no longer had any awareness of how full or empty my bladder might be. With my bladder sphincter as relaxed as a newborn’s, my pee dribbled or spurted into my diaper as freely as any infant’s. It had been equally dazzling to find myself actually unable to recall how to remove my own clothes and to lose all memory of ever using a toilet – had I really always worn diapers as I now recalled?

But all of those experiences paled beside returning to full self awareness and recalling exactly how I had spent the prior week or more living full time as a baby. I felt the pure wonder and delight of being a baby that fulfilled my fantasies as nothing had ever done before this. I knew I would do whatever Mommy asked as long as I got to be a Complete 24 Hour Baby even occasionally. Most of us never get to recall being a baby, but I could recall every detail of my second infancy now. I wanted more than anything else to be a Complete Baby again.

“Well, Babykins, did you like being a real baby again?” Mommy asked as she finished fitting the leg bands of my rumba panties over my thick diaper.

“Yeth Mommy it wath wonnerfuls,” I said excitedly, “Me wuvs bein’ baby agins Mommy.”

I was no more self conscious about my more limited vocabulary or my toddler speech patterns than I was about the constant wetting of my diapers. I might not be a “Complete Baby” at the moment, but I was acutely aware that no matter my limited “adult” faculties, I really was still a baby. I knew that as certainly as I knew Mommy was my Mommy. It didn’t matter how old I was or how big I was as far as being a baby. Only babies wet and pooped their diapers. Only babies needed to wear diapers, and anyone who needed diapers like a baby WAS a baby. Since I now needed to wear diapers all the time, I knew I was really still a baby just like any other baby. Even if I could think more or less like an adult, I certainly no longer behaved like an adult very often.

I had absolutely no control of my bladder or bowels any longer, and needed to be diapered for the same reasons any baby did. I could no longer remember or even imagine how to dress myself anymore. I certainly had no concept on how to remove any of my baby clothes when Mommy dressed me. I had no concept of how to use a toilet, and was now positive that I had never in my life used a potty or a toilet. Diapers were my only underpants and I knew I had worn them since I was little. I had always worn diapers since I was a baby, and I’d never ever been toilet trained.

I had a pacifier in my mouth almost constantly, and would suck my thumb obsessively if I couldn’t find my pacifier. Between the pacifier, my toothless gums, and my baby talk conditioning, I now sounded very much like a real toddler when I talked. I didn’t feel the need to talk much anyways and was much happier sucking on my pacifier. I was no more self conscious of my diapered state or my feminine infantile appearance than any other toddler or baby would be with adults around.

It was fortunate that I didn’t need to work for a living - since babies can’t hold a job very well. Once Mommy began to condition me to live and act like a baby, there was no way I could function in the adult world any longer. We lived mostly on the interest income of the settlement I’d received from the insurance company of the drunk who’d killed both my parents in a head-on wreck when I was nineteen. Their wills had set up a living trust that paid off the mortgage on the house, and sent me a monthly check that I had always found more than enough for my modest lifestyle.

Mommy DID still have a job, but she didn’t work at an office. She worked from home as a translator for official UN document translations. Once a month, two or three large boxes of official-looking envelopes and binders would be delivered from some UN commission, and she would return another batch she had completed. She specialized in translating technical language and spoke seven languages besides English. She never told me how much she earned, but Mommy owned a bigger house than mine when we met.

I’d met Mommy online in a chat room three years after the accident. I was still trying to cope with the trauma of losing both my parents at the same time. I had tried support groups in person and online, and was still seeing a therapist every week. But, talking about them or my feelings never seemed to make any difference. My therapist told me I was getting gradually better, and would heal fully in time, but I was too embarrassed to tell her the truth about my improvement.

The only thing that really seemed to help was to dress in diapers and baby clothes and to imagine I was a baby again. In my imagination, my mother was always there with me and my father was gone to work. If I were a baby again, then they were alive again and the pain seemed to finally ease. Of course I knew it was a silly fantasy and nothing would really restore my parents to me. But, wearing diapers and playing baby really did help ease my pain and helped me feel some hope for life again.

I had experimented with wearing diapers and masturbating a few times in my teens, but this new experience was something completely different. There was nothing sexual about my return to diapers this time. The clinical white adult disposable diapers wouldn’t do for what I wanted now. I wanted baby diapers and baby clothes, and when I discovered the online world of adult babies, I found places that sold everything a big baby could want – except a Mommy, of course.

Mommy and I began to exchange e-mails soon after we met in the chat room, and I was very excited to learn that she lived less than twenty miles from my home town. By this time, I had amassed a growing collection of soft flannel diapers, plastic panties, onesies, and other baby clothes. Wearing these baby clothes and diapers helped me to feel more like a real baby than wearing those ugly adult diapers ever could.

I pleaded with her to meet me in real life, but she was reluctant to take that next step. Mommy confessed that she was as much a “virgin” at the Adult Baby scene as I was. She had been introduced to the scene by a girlfriend who had confessed that her boyfriend sometimes liked to wear diapers and pretend to be a baby. Mommy found the idea of turning a man into a baby very exciting, and she also began to explore the online world of adult babies. She wrote that she grew even more thrilled when she learned about “sissy adult babies” like me. The fantasy of turning an adult man into a baby girl completely dependent on her, and totally under her maternal control, thrilled and stimulated her in a way no other fantasy – sexual or otherwise – ever had. She wrote that she was afraid no real life experience could ever match her fantasies, and she didn’t want to ruin what she had by taking that risk.

It took me nearly a month to convince Mommy that it was worth the risk. I would wear whatever she chose to dress me in and do whatever she wanted me to do as a baby, I promised. Whatever it might take for me to become the baby of her fantasies, I swore I was ready to do anything she desired. Our first “date” was at a matinee viewing of the Disney movie, “Finding Nemo”. The theater was full of children, sitters, and mothers and we found a fairly private pair of seats toward the rear. I wore a double layer cloth diaper and plastic panties under the denim shortalls and a pink lap-shoulder onesie I had selected for our first meeting. Mommy said I’d need to be willing to go out in public dressed in my baby clothes if I wanted to be her baby. The thrill and power of treating a man like a baby girl in public was a central part of Mommy’s baby fantasy, and I needed to prove to her that I was committed to doing whatever she asked.

Mommy was pleased to find that I was actually a couple of inches shorter than she was, and very thin. She actually outweighed me by at least twenty pounds, and had much bigger biceps than my own. From the start, she took charge of me, taking my hand to lead me to the seats she selected in the rear area of the theater.

Once the movie began, Mommy whispered that she needed to check my diaper, and unfastened the side waist buttons of my shortalls to slip a hand under them to slide a finger between my thigh and the bulk of my damp diaper. She smiled, and nodded, “A bit damp, but I don’t think you need a diaper change just yet. Here, Mommy brought you something to drink while you watch the movie.”

Sucking on a baby bottle in public was another test, I knew, and I held the bottle high with both hands as I did it. In the darkness of the theater, I didn’t think I’d be noticed. Mommy knew kids better than I did. It only took a few minutes for one of the younger restless ones to spot me, and speak loudly to his nearby mother, “Mommy, look! That man’s sucking a baby bottle!”

I kept sucking at the plastic teat. If I wanted to be Mommy’s baby, I knew I had to be ready to endure a bit of public humiliation.

The mother glanced back our way, and shrugged her shoulders, “Shush, Alex, watch the movie.”

Having passed Mommy’s first test, she took the empty bottle, and returned it to her diaper bag, “C’mon, Chrissie, Mommy wants to take baby shopping.”

I clutched her hand closely, and let Mommy lead me into our first public adventure. We left the relatively safe confines of the theater complex and entered the well lit promenade of the shopping mall beyond. The juvenile style of my outfit and the bulky bulge of my diapers were much more obvious here as I waddled along in Mommy’s wake. We paused at a bench, and I opened my mouth to ask a question, and to have it filled by the bulb of a large pacifier.

“Children are to be seen but not heard, Baby,” Mommy said with a broad smile, clipping the pacifier’s retaining strap to one shoulder strap of my shortalls, “This will make sure everyone knows you’re my big baby girl.”

I’d drawn curious stares and comments before, but the big pink pacifier in my face was like a beacon. As Mommy said, everyone who saw the pacifier knew immediately I was dressed like a baby, and probably guessed the nature of the bulky bulges swaddling me. The stares became more blatant, giggling and soft laughter followed us through the mall, and several children commented on the “big baby”.

I was relieved to have Mommy lead me into a toy store. She told the clerk who greeted us, “Yes, I want to find stuffed animals, dolls, and baby toys big enough for my baby girl. As you can see, she’s a bit bigger than most babies, and we need bigger toys.”

“I’m sure we have some really big teddy bears, and maybe a dolly that’s big enough,” the cute young brunette replied, grinning at Mommy, “As for the baby toys, we’ll have to see. Most of the babies we buy for are much smaller than your little one here, I’m afraid.”

I blushed hotly under the gaze of the slender brunette, turning even pinker as I realized I was wetting my diapers thoroughly. I was relieved when Mommy led me along an aisle toward the stuffed animals. It didn’t take long for Mommy to select a huge pink bunny and an even larger plush pink teddy bear. In the doll department, they had dolls as big as a five-year-old, and Mommy chose one (dressed in pink, of course). As the clerk had expected, however, the choice of larger size baby toys was limited. Mommy finally got two dozen soft fabric blocks that were five-inch cubes, and the largest set of stacker rings the store had.

A stock boy from the store followed us back to Mommy’s van to help load the big toys, and he grinned at Mommy as he loaded them, “I think you have the biggest baby we ever had in our store, Ma’am. Be sure to bring ‘her’ back anytime you need more baby toys.”

Mommy placed me in the rear seat of the van, and took me home for the first of many diaper changes, and the beginning of our new life together.