My Baby Sitter

After writing a warm-up story, I decided to try one of my ideas, leading to the story you’re about to read. It’s my second story ever, if you don’t include the vomit-inducing one I wrote 7 years ago (lolearlyteenyears).

I know the title is stereotypical, but it’s a little twist on the cliche; you’ll find out why
(8752 words)

“A babysitter?!” I asked, incredulous that they would even suggest something so childish. “Mom, Dad, I’m fourteen… I think I can handle you being out of town for a night.” I leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, trying to give the impression I wouldn’t budge. Mom and dad were standing in the hallway door frame, dressed up nicely for a night out on the town. Mom was in makeup, dad had a tie, and they both smelled like perfume and cologne.

“Listen, Thomas,” dad started, a stern look bearing down on me. I didn’t like the sound of this; father only used my full name when I was in trouble. “Your teacher e-mailed us about your grades. Do you want to pass this year or not?” How was this even remotely related?

“I-” father cut me off mid-sentence, like I didn’t exist.

“You’ve also lied about what you’ve been doing when you ride off on your bike. I don’t like what those friends of yours represent. Hanging out behind stores, doing God knows what, and I even found black spray paint in your bag.” Bastard. I scowled. Okay, so I wasn’t the perfect kid, and I had cool friends. “Now, rather than sit here yelling at you, as much as I’d like to-” here mother folded her arms in silent protest to that idea “-WE decided on a better alternative.” He paused, obviously waiting for me to question him. I stared back. “Instead of grounding you, which doesn’t seem to work, we’re just going to treat you like you were when you were 10, and well behaved. You didn’t go anywhere without supervision, and you always had a babysitter.” Despite my tough guy façade, my mouth actually dropped open a little. What?! I was outraged!

“But, you can’t do this! I’m not a little kid!” I said loudly. I didn’t want to yell and make it worse.

“Can’t I? I think I’m your father, and I can do what’s best in the interest of raising you. And if you talk back again, you WILL be grounded. You’re luck you aren’t already. Now, go do whatever it is you want to do, your mother and I are leaving soon, and your sitter will be here shortly.” I opened my mouth as if to argue, but they just turned their backs and vanished into the hallway, back into their room. Whatever, they’re the ones with the attitude. As far as I was concerned, there is nothing wrong with my friends, and I’d bring my grades up. Eventually. I opened the fridge, grabbed a soda, and made my way to the living room. I flipped on the TV, cracked open the beverage, and took a sip.

“Did you ask for that?” came the sound of my father. I kind of jumped a little, I had no idea he had reappeared in that small amount of time.

“Uh… what?” I asked, looking up at him. Since when did I have to ask for a soda? It was kind of one of those things growing up, that you just reach an understanding with. There’s a point where you’re allowed to stop asking for stuff, as long as it isn’t excessive, and… okay, I knew where this was going. “Oh uh… can I have a soda?” I asked, accentuating the question mark at the end a little sarcastically. Dad narrowed his eyes.

“Go ahead,” he just had to add, to symbolize he was the head of the house, the Decider. Doorbell decided to ring. Cue nicely timed interruption, I thought. I jumped up to answer it, wanting any distraction from this treatment I was getting, until I remembered what it was a split second after I had already risen. Dad must have noticed my hesitation, he walked right over and opened the door, greeting our guest.

“Shellie! Good to see you.”

“Hello Mr. Patterson,” She answered, shaking his hand, and turned, smiling at me. “Hello, Tommy.”

“It’s Tom,” I corrected flatly.

“Oh don’t mind him,” Mom added, “Tom, Tommy, call him whatever you like.” I frowned. Tommy was my childhood nickname, I started asking to be called Tom when I entered sixth grade. I’d wonder if Shellie was in on this, but I knew better; she’d always called me Tommy, we sort of grew up together. She was my neighbor, and four years older than me. During my childhood, she’d come over to my house almost every day, and we’d play with toys, play pretend in the yard, and when I was old enough, video games together. We fell out of contact when she started her busy high-school career, but she occasionally dropped by to say hi. I had to admit, out of everyone I’d want babysitting me, which was about as long of a list as the number of people who wanted a hernia, Shellie was the least embarrassing choice. Being a childhood friend, she was more of a friend than a babysitter. She wasn’t half-bad looking, either. White skirt that went down to her upper knees/lower thighs, pink shirt that showed just a sliver of belly, white socks with lace trim, black shoes, and a pink hair bow. Yeah, it was pretty girly, but she did look cute. On her shoulder was a rather large purse, which she set down next to the couch. Dad motioned her over and pulled out a folded sheet of paper, and they proceeded to discuss something with their backs turned to me. It was a little difficult to hear, but I heard snippets. “This is what you have to do,” “in bed by ten,” “he has to listen to you,” “don’t let him get away with any disrespect,” and so on. There was NO WAY I was going to bed at ten on a Saturday. I wasn’t going to protest now mind you, it was no use, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to bed at ten.

“Seems easy enough,” Shellie stated confidently, and folded up the note, slipping it into her purse. “Don’t worry about Tommy, Mr. Patterson, I’m sure he’ll be good for me.” I caught a wink in her eye, her head was turned at such an angle that neither parents could see it. I was intrigued, but I didn’t question it, lest I give away whatever it was. Curiosity was definitely a weakness of mine.

“Well, that settles that,” Dad said, clapping his hands together. “It’s time for us to go out and enjoy ourselves. You be good for Shellie, understand me, son?” He added as a last remark, him and mother on their way out the door.

“Yes sir,” I simply said. I just wanted to be alone. Well, mostly alone. Shellie was probably going to be busy doing girl things.

“Good. See you two tomorrow afternoon!” And with that, the door closed, the only thing that could be heard was the soft noise of the television in the background.

“Oh my God, I thought he’d never leave,” Shellie exclaimed after letting the silence sink in for a few seconds. “I mean I like the guy no offense, but he can sure talk, the guy goes on and on and on about things he’s already told you, ya know?” Apparently, so could Shellie, but I didn’t mind her as much as dad, so I didn’t say anything. Besides, I still had something on my mind.

“Hey,” I started out, not sure how to phrase it.

“Hm?” Shellie looked at me, waiting for me to finish.

“When you said, ‘I’m sure he’ll be good for me,’ I saw you wink. What do you mean by that? Is there something I need to know?”

“Oh that! Nah don’t worry about it, you’ll find out soon enough, it’s nothing,” she assured me. I was not that assured. Now I knew it definitely was something, and I wanted to know what that something was.

I tried to ignore it. It was only about four thirty, my parents would be out for a night of drinking, dinner, and whatever else they wanted to do in the city, and planned on renting a hotel for the night. The first thing Shellie did was take the note back out of her purse, and start reading it again. I looked over, she didn’t mind letting me read. On it were a list of rules she was to enforce, mostly stuff I’d already heard. It also explained why this was happening, thanked her in advance for her services and anything she had to put up with in regards to me. Gee, thanks dad. I returned to my normal TV viewing pose. It was a little awkward sitting next to Shellie, her whole reason for staying at my house being to treat me like a kid. Like, what was I supposed to do? Pretend I was? I decided not to let it bother me.

“Man, your parents sure have you on a tight leash now,” she offered.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“So many rules and stuff. It’s gonna be kind of a drag to enforce some, but I guess I have to.” I waited a minute or two.

“So, is there anything you wanted to do?” I ventured. She hesitated. I knew there was something on her mind, so I waited for her to answer.

“Nah, not really,” she said a moment later. Liar. I dropped it, not wanting to press. “TV is fine for now.” She picked up the remote, and started flipping through channels. After a few considerations, it landed on an MTV reality show. Barf. She pulled out her phone, and started texting her BFFs, or whatever it is girls do with phones. I pretended to be interested for all of five minutes. While she was nose deep in a conversation, I slipped away into my room, my sanctuary, and turned on my own TV, booting up my game console. Nothing kills time like video games. About a half an hour later, there was a knock on my door.

“Yeah,” I called out, most of my attention span still in the game.

“What do you want for dinner?” Shellie called out in an equally loud tone.

“I’ll make it myself later.” My door opened, and Shellie stepped in. Funny… I didn’t remember telling her she could enter my room. She sat next to me on my bed.

“You know I can’t let you do that.” I probably knew why, but I wanted to give her a hard time just to prove a point.

“Why not? Another one of DAD’s rules?” I asked, placing much sarcasm on the “dad” part.

“I’m afraid so,” she replied. “Not supposed to use any appliances.”

“I make dinner for myself all the time!” I argued.

“And I bet you do, but we both need to follow the rules.”

“Can’t you just say screw the rules? It’s not like he’ll know.” I REALLY didn’t want her cooking for me, cooking was a big sign of independence.

“Unfortunately not.” She sounded almost sad… but at the moment, I didn’t care. I took an empty soda can, and flung it across the room, bouncing it off a wall. This startled her, and she jumped slightly.

“It’s not fair!” I was sure I was about to get into my first trouble of the night. What was she going to do? Put me in a corner? Spank me? Tell my dad?

“I know.” Came the soft reply. I was a bit taken aback. She was so calm.

“You know I’m big enough to cook.” I tried, sensing a weakness.

“I know…” She said again. Well… at least I was making progress. Maybe I could pull this off.

“So… we’re letting the rules slide for now?” I asked hopefully. She folded her hands. I realized she looked incredibly nervous. “You okay?” I offered.

“Yeah… just…” she sighed. “I don’t like these rules either. I want to give you a chance to ignore them for a night.” Cha-ching! Jackpot. I mean, in all fairness, this is THE first night the rules were even mentioned, but I already hated them, and it’d be nice to postpone reality for one more night.

“I’m listening.”

“Come with me.” She got up, and walked out of the room. I stood up and followed her, through the hall, back to the couch. Her large purse was sitting on one of the cushions. The TV was off. She sat down next to it. I sat down next to her. “This is probably the hardest thing I’ve ever done…” she was still using a soft voice.

“Is this related to earlier?” I asked, my curiosity flaring. She nodded. “So what is it?”

“You better not tell anyone.” She commanded, with a stern face.

“Tell them what?” I was confused, but DYING to know.

“I have dirt on you, you know.”

“I don’t care, because I won’t tell, now tell meeee.” My immaturity shone through a little… I winced. She unzipped her purse. I caught a whiff of a fresh clean scent, mixed with talcum powder. She pulled out a diaper, but it wasn’t an ordinary diaper; it was much larger, and had what appeared to be babyish prints to make it look like an oversized baby diaper, capable of fitting an adult… Or a teen. I gulped. I rose from the couch. I was about to run, but a hand caught my wrist in a tight grip.

“Sit down,” she ordered. Fuck that. I tried to tug my hand free.

“I’m not wearing that,” I said matter-of-factly. I scowled at her.

“I KNOW you’re not, dumbass. I am.” Okay, I was completely caught off guard. First, by being called a dumbass; must admit, have not been called that before. Second, for… her? I was very confused. It did make sense how apprehensive, nervous, and secretive she was about this, now that I knew what it was and who it was for.

“Uh… come again?” I asked, not physically resisting any further. She let go of me. I rubbed my wrist; she had a tight grip. Her face was a lovely shade of pink, it really matched her shirt.

“You want a chance to escape the rules, right?” She looked up. I was still standing over her.

“Yeah, I do.” Duh.

“I like… acting little… sometimes. I was told you’d be in bed by ten; I was going to have some ‘little Shellie’ time after you fell asleep. But you looked so unhappy, and you’re like… the only one I’d trust with this. My girlfriends would gossip, my parents suck, and I have no one else.” She looked like she was about to cry. I sat beside her. I really felt sorry now. It’s like girls have this weird power… you could literally be the reincarnation of Jesus, but if you see a girl cry, you immediately feel bad and wondered what the hell you did. She hugged me. I felt very awkward in this position… I wasn’t sure what to do, so I just put my arm around her. “Besides,” she added, “no real fourteen year old boy is ever going to be in bed by ten on a weekend. And this is the first chance I’ve had in months.” She didn’t cry, but… she just kept her arms around me for a few more moments. She must have noticed me growing uneasy, because she ended the hug. “Sorry,” she said sheepishly.

“So, um… what… what exactly do I do?” It should have been crystal clear what I was to do, she was holding a diaper and telling me she liked to be little, but I still couldn’t believe it; I had to hear her say it.

“I have… a deal for you,” she stated.

“Yeah?” I asked, morbidly curious. Anything to get out of this ‘grounding’ that my parents didn’t want to admit was grounding.

“Well…” she took a deep breath, and put emphasis on the next I; “I want to be the one being babysat. There, I said it.” Still confused over here. I thought that was obvious.

“Aaaand… the deal is?”

“Think about it, silly! You get to be the babysitter. I get to be the… er… you know.” She hesitated to say the actual word. “You gain my powers, I gain yours.”

“There has to be a catch,” I said, still not really believing it. There’s no way I could have it this good.

“Well… I wouldn’t call it a catch, but the catch for you is, you have to put me in… these.” Again, she hesitated to say the actual word. So I said it for her, to tease her a bit.

“I have to put you in a diaper,” I stated. She blushed three shades of red, but nodded. She held the diaper up to me. I took it from her hands. It was indeed what I thought it was; a cloth-backed adult diaper, made to replicate a popular line of baby diapers. Surely they can’t make these for actual adults? Maybe it was a gag gift. It felt thick enough, though. It crinkled as he handled it, soft to the touch. “This is a big, uh… diaper.” I said, unfolding it out of curiosity. She blushed again, nodding. “I thought incontinent adults wanted plain diapers, and didn’t like calling them diapers? How did you get this?”

“It’s specially made for people… like me.” She responded. “A lot smaller market, but enough to create a demand.” I nodded, like I knew what she was talking about. I had no idea. Still, it was kind of cute, seeing a baby diaper made for an adult. I had the diaper in my hands, looking at it. My eyes wandered a little, and I noticed her staring at me, expectantly. I felt really… mature at that moment. I’d been trusted with someone’s deep secret, and now they depended on me. I had someone depending on me. I wasn’t quite sure how to initiate this whole thing without sounding awkward and clueless, but I took a stab nonetheless.

“Here, the bed, or…?” I asked, pointing at the diaper.

“Is your bed okay?” she asked. “It’s nice and soft.” I nodded.

“Sure, sure, let’s go.” I attempted to take control for the first time by taking her hand in mine, and she let me. She followed me as we walked to the room, and what a sight we were. A fourteen year old boy leading his babysitter into a room, to put her into a diaper he currently had in his hands. I smiled at the sheer silliness of the idea, almost giggling. Almost. I pat my bed softly, and noticed she had brought her bag. She hopped up, laid back with her legs spread, skirt still covering her lady region. She smiled up at me sweetly, and suddenly, I was nervous on an entirely new level. I had never seen a naked girl in real life, honest to God, but this is what she wanted. My mouth dried out, my palms began sweating, and I couldn’t get myself to move. Like a wolf sensing meat, she grinned up at me knowingly, an almost sneer-like smile on her face.

“What’s wrong, Tommy? Most boys dream and drool over having a naked girl in their bed!” She giggled giddily at me, and I could only blush real hard. She was making fun of me! I couldn’t let this stand! I looked around in her bag for the supplies I needed, and spotted an oversized pacifier. Perfect. I took it out, and stuck it in her giggly mouth before she could protest. She tried to pout, but couldn’t hide the giddiness that remained, so it was more of a half-pout, half-trying-not-to-laugh. “Shcared?” she teased. Time to show her who was in control! My clammy hands grasped the sides of her skirt, I tugged gently yet firmly, and she lifted her body so it slid down to her feet, where she kicked it off and onto the floor. “Could have just lifted my skirt up,” she teased again, taking out her pacifier long enough to stick her tongue out, then putting it back in. I huffed indignantly.

“Well babies don’t wear skirts!” I shot back playfully. She and I looked down, and we both blushed at the same time when we realized what was next. She reached over, grabbed my pillow, and hid her face behind it. I steeled myself for what I was about to do. It wasn’t a bad kind of nervous; it was more of an, ‘oh my god, I have no idea what I’m doing, I’m going to look like an idiot’ kind of nervous. She was wearing pink panties with white lace trim, one small white heart on the front. It was the epitome of cute and girly. My heart pounded in my chest, like someone was beating on it with a hammer. ‘Alright… nothing special… she’s just a girl,’ I told myself, hooking my fingers around the sides. As I pulled, again she wiggled around so that the piece of clothing came off easily, and she kicked those to the floor as well. Despite my nerves, I had to smile at the sight before me; my friends would never believe me even if I told them. She was shaven clean, everywhere. There was a fine line between acceptable and creepy amounts of time before I took my next action, and as time slowed to nearly a crawl, I was sure I passed it five times over. She didn’t seem to mind, though; she just kept hiding behind my pillow. I owed it to her to make this quick, since she was being so well behaved (and, you know, letting me see her naked and all).

I took the diaper, and unfolded it completely. As if on cue, she knew exactly what was happening, and lifted her legs up, allowing me to slide it under, and then her bottom as well, and I lined it up on her back as one would do a toddler. Her pillow-shield went down, and she looked at me, a heavy blush on her face, sucking on her pacifier to remain calm. She pointed to her bag. I looked down into it, and remembered the talcum smell. I took the powder out, and held it up to my nose. It smelled soft, pleasant, fresh… and reminded me of a nursery, and babies. It was a very distinct smell, with a very distinct meaning. I smiled as I inhaled the scent, and she just watched me, not saying a word. I sprinkled some on her lady regions, almost disappointed to see such flawless beauty marred. I also sprinkled some into the diaper. She lifted up her legs again, and I was reminded to put some in the back of the diaper, and on her bottom. What a cute bottom, I thought as I sprinkled the powder on her. She let her feet down with a soft whump on the bed. I grasped the front of the diaper, brought it up between her legs, which were bowed out at 45 degree angles to make it easy on me, and made sure it was snug in the middle. I adjusted the front, so that it was straight, level, and even on both sides. There was only one large, oversized Velcro tape on each side, which I peeled back and stuck to the velvety soft front of her diaper, one at a time, until she was nice and snug in the oversized babyish garment. She looked down at it, admiring my work, and wiggled her legs back and forth to test the fit. I have to admit… as silly as it is, the image of an eighteen year old teenager in diapers, she looked incredibly… hot.

“Tank yew, Tommy,” she said in the most adorable, childish voice.

“My pleasure, ‘little Shellie’” I responded, taking her hand and helping her off the bed. I guess the bulk of her diaper made some movements awkward, because she got off butt-first, and I must say, it was pretty cute seeing her do it. The diaper crinkled with every movement, reminding her she was playing the part of a much younger Shellie. She beamed at the nickname, wrapping her arms around me in a tight hug. I noticed two things at that moment. One, her bulky diaper was pressed up against my jeans as she squeezed the life force from my body, and two, it was a good thing I was wearing my tightest of whities, and my baggiest of jeans, because nature was cruel. The hug was only a few brief moments, but in my current state, it felt like years had passed. Eventually, though, she released the hug, and looked down at me with her innocent blue eyes. It was a strange sensation, looking UP at someone whose diapers you were expected to change, because of the age difference, she was a good head taller than I.

“Tommy, hungry,” she whined softly. Right… responsibilities, I thought. I wanted those! Truthfully, though, now that I HAD to make something for someone else, it did seem like kind of a drag. Having someone cook for me would have been nice. I pushed that thought from my mind, though. I was a growing teen, I was practically an adult! I might not have understood why Shellie wanted to regress just yet, but I knew I wasn’t going to deny her the pleasure, and besides, I got to play God/head hauncho in charge, do whatever I wanted while my parents were away, and have it stamped for approval by a legitimate “babysitter.” We arrived in the kitchen, Shellie in tow holding my hand. I led her over to a chair at the table, and pushed her all the way in, up to her chest, to give a “high-chair” feeling. I pulled a bag of chicken nuggets and a bag of fries out of the freezer, and set the oven to preheat.

“Nuggies!” Shelly said happily, kicking her feet idly. I knew she’d be a little bored while the food cooked. I mean who wouldn’t, right? I dug through the pantry until I found what I was looking for. There were a couple small boxes of cheerios near the cereal. I opened one, and scattered them on the table. Shellie looked up at me, a little surprised, as if she didn’t expect me to get this into it. She soon gave into temptation, though, and started eating the cheerios one by one, sliding them across the table, making simple pictures. The oven was ready within a few minutes, and the nuggets and fries were ready ten minutes after that. I put a couple fries and nuggets on a plate, and set the plate just out of her reach. She pouted and reached for it, letting out a whine.

“It needs to cool, little Shellie,” I told her, gently blowing air over the hot items. She squirmed patiently in her seat. I picked up one of the pieces of breaded chicken, and held it up. She reached for it a second time, but I evaded her hand, and held it up to her mouth. I could tell she was slightly surprised, but happily accepted the food. I fed her bite after bite; she seemed genuinely happy to accept what I was doing for her. After she cleaned her plate the first time, which was not that many to begin with, I put a few on a plate in front of her, and let her eat at her own discretion. I grabbed a second plate, and ate mine pretty quickly; I was moderately hungry. For what it was, frozen nuggets and fries, it was pretty good, and filling. As both of us finished, I collected our plates, and put them in the sink. She was fidgeting slightly. I looked over.

“Down,” she simply stated. I guess if you were a real toddler, you would get “down” from a high chair, it seemed a tad silly using “down” for a chair smaller than yourself at a normal table. Still, I pulled the chair back, and Shellie stood up. “Drink.” I heard her say, standing next to me patiently. Man… being a babysitter sure was a lot of work. Shellie was just pretending to be a toddler; he couldn’t imagine watching a real one. He took a glass from the cupboard, opened the fridge, and started to get out some apple juice. Shellie shook her head, her neck-length black hair whipping side to side, like a car wash roller on the high setting. “Miwk,” she said, in her toddler accent. I put the juice back, got out the milk, and poured about a third of a glass. “Tommy…” she said timidly, a change of tone from her simple toddler talk.

“Hm?” I asked, leaning in to see what she wanted.

“Um… toddler me would probably spill the glass…” she said so softly, almost whispering. I smiled.

“Of course,” I replied, remembering her bag. “Be right back.” I walked back to my room, located the bag, and started digging around inside. I saw a sippy cup first, but upon further inspection, I also saw a baby bottle. I grinned. As I walked back to the kitchen, I held my treasure behind my back. She looked up as I walked in, expecting me to have her sippy cup. I took the bottle out from behind my back, and her expression changed to one of surprise.

“Tommyyyy…” she whined in her toddler voice.

“Yes, little Shellie?” I asked as I unscrewed the lid, carefully pouring the contents of the milk glass into the bottle.

“I… I dunno… I mean, diapers and food is one thing, but bottles… it’s a symbol, a bond, it takes complete trust in a person… I just don’t know what’ll happen,” she told me in her soft, hushed tones.

“But I thought you did trust me,” I said, puzzled. That was the whole reason this entire thing was happening, right?

“I DO trust you. I wouldn’t be standing here in front of you in this diaper if I didn’t…” she blushed again, clutching my arm. I didn’t want to force her, and I was kinda going along with it all too well. I put the bottle down on the counter. To my surprise, she grabbed it, and clutched it. I guess it was her turn to lead me, because she took me by the hand, and pulled me into the living room. She crawled onto the couch, and curled up into a ball on one side. Great… I sighed, and sat on the other side. I was just trying to help, and I made her mad. Why were women so complicated… before I could finish wondering what I did, I felt a tug on my shirt. She was looking up at me with those blue eyes.

“What is it?” I asked, scooting close. She tugged my shirt again. I scooted all the way over next to her, and she curled up beside me. Huh… I guess it wasn’t as bad as I thought. She clutched the lower part of my shirt again, and we sat, watching late night cartoons like this for a good half-hour. I felt her start to wiggle around, so I looked over to see what was up. She had turned herself so that her feet were pointed toward one arm of the couch, her back pointed toward the other, parallel to the length of the couch, while I was sitting the normal way, perpendicular. She scooted her butt into my lap, which surprised me and made me blush slightly. This was… unexpected. She held up the bottle of milk. I took it in my hand. She leaned back, my arm instinctively went around to keep her from falling, she settled into it, and laid her head on my shoulder. I was now cradling her… somewhat. With the arm that wasn’t supporting her weight, I held up the bottle. She nodded. I held the rubber nipple up to her lips. She latched onto it, suckling softly.

I took her a good five minutes of suckling to drain about half of the bottle, but there we sat, “babysitter” and “baby.” I could hear her rhythmic suckling; this is definitely one of the cutest things I’d ever witnessed in my short fourteen years of life. I was alternating between watching her drink the milk with her eyes closed, and catching bits and pieces of the low volume TV show. As I held her, I wasn’t really sure what to think. Did she… like me? Was I going too far? Was I doing enough? All these weird emotions were floating through my head; I was only fourteen, and this girl was trusting me both with weird things, and things I haven’t even heard of before.

I looked down one more time, and noticed Shellie’s nose was wet. Her eyelashes, too. A tear rolled down her cheek. Then another. Oh my God, she was crying Great… How bad of a person can I be, that I made a girl cry by giving her what she wants? I wasn’t even sure what to do. Do I say something, or what? Shellie let the nipple go, and buried her face into my shirt, crying softly into my shoulder. A minute passed. Or ten. I couldn’t tell.

“My own mom doesn’t even love me,” she finally whimpered, muffled, as most of the sound went into my shirt. “And here my neighbor is, willing to do totally weird shit with HIS neighbor, giving her more attention now than her mother did her whole life!” Huh… I’d never actually paid attention to how much her mother cared, she’d always been at my house. Come to think of it, I’d only been to her house all of two times while living next to her for fourteen years, and both times were not exactly good experiences. At the time, I hadn’t thought much of it.

“Uhm… s-sorry… I guess, I didn’t mean to make you, ya know,” if awkward were currency, I’d have my own private jet by now.

“No no, I’m the sorry one,” she said, and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. “I shouldn’t have put you in this situation.” My arm started nagging me, the one supporting her weight. It didn’t matter how much she weighed, supporting any amount of weight for an extended period of time would tire anyone’s arm. I dare not move it, though. It was like my arm were wired to a hair trigger, and if I moved it, boom. If there were a God, surely He noticed my plight, because she sat up at that moment. She then gave me a hug. It was firm, warm, one of those hugs you knew was genuine. She ended the embrace, and looked me right in the eyes.

“I’m so sorry, for all of this,” she said, pointing at the bottle, and making a circular motion, indicating herself, and the item around her waist.

“It’s okay, really. I don’t mind. I’m glad I could help.” I meant it, too. “Why doesn’t your mom love you, though? And what happened to your… er… I don’t know if I should mention your dad actually…” Oops. What a bonehead. I’d never actually seen her father; she probably didn’t want to talk about it.

“Mom’s been a drug addict for as long as I could remember. And my dad left when I was three.” There was a long, awkward silence. “I just needed a release, so bad. My needs, my desires, they got the best of me, they overpowered my sense of decency and self-control. I probably should never have even told you…” she looked down with a look of guilt.

“It’s okay, really!” I pleaded, trying to convey sincerity.

“Let me get my skirt,” she told me, rising to her feet. I had a split second to decide what I wanted, a fraction in time to choose between the old Shellie, and the new Shellie. Old Shellie, who hid her emotions away from the world, and put on a happy face to hide the pain. New Shellie, who trusted me enough to see her naked (which to a fourteen year old boy, was pretty awesome), to just let it all out while I held her, who put on a genuinely happy face, not one for show. I think I’d made my decision right there. As she turned to walk away, I reached out, and grabbed her wrist. Her cute little diapered bottom turned to face me, and a look of surprise crossed her face. Based on what I’ve seen tonight, I prepared something I thought she’d enjoy.

“And where does little Shellie think she’s going?” I teased, tugging on her wrist. “Little babies don’t need skirts!”

“H-hey!” she laughed as she said it, falling back into my lap, butt-first. Even though she was fairly skinny, she was still older than me, and she almost crushed my poor little body. I didn’t care, though. Hearing her laugh was more pleasing than the most soothing choir of angels. Maybe I was just a stupid teenager, but I wanted to hear that sound, again and again. I knew I’d made the right choice. She let herself relax, leaning back into me, the back of her head using my shoulder as a headrest. Maybe by instinct, maybe something in me knew what to do, my hands moved forward, slipping themselves between her arms and her sides, and met each other on her tummy, clasping together.

“Mmm…” she breathed, like a hard worker who’d just found their bed after a long day. “Tommy…” she said softly, gently pulling at my hands. Uh oh, I thought. What’d I do? Was I too forward? I guess I’d find out, because she wiggled forward and stood up. Oh boy, what now?

She turned around as she got up, now facing me. She crawled back onto the couch, one leg on either side of me, straddling my lap. She laid her head atop my shoulder, and replicated what I’d done with my hands a few moments before, slipping her arms around my midsection.

“Hold me like a baby…” she cooed softly in my ear, using her little girl voice. I wasn’t really sure what she meant… I took a guess, summoning up my best recollection of parents holding their little ones. I put one hand around her bottom, and used the other to rub her back gently, as I’d seen other parents do. I must have done something right, I could almost feel her melting into my arms. Her grip on me became even more firm; I could tell she was on cloud nine. Maybe I was TOO good… because after about fifteen minutes, I heard the telltale deep breathing, and her arms were totally slack. Yep… she’d fallen asleep on me. Not that I was one iota regretful that I’d let her fall asleep on me with nothing to entertain myself, but I looked around for the remote regardless. It was on the cushion next to her leg. I took the arm that was rubbing her back, slowly moved it to the side, reeeeached… and managed to grasp it. I turned it down a few levels, since it was left on the late night cartoon channel at normal volume. I flipped around for a bit, but eventually just returned to the same channel, setting down the remote, and relaxed, listening to this girl sleeping on me. Her breathing was mesmerizing, peaceful, rhythmic. I closed my eyes, enjoying the sound of the sleeping “infant.” Enjoying… the sound…


I sat at a table, fresh hot coffee in front of me. I didn’t particularly like coffee, but I know I liked it here. “Tommy!” I heard, and looked over. It was a toddler, but I couldn’t really tell who it was. She ran around the corner, into the hallway. I got up to chase her, which is obviously what she wanted. Suddenly, the house started to shake, and fade away…

My eyes opened. Sunlight was streaming in through the windows, it was bright daylight out. Shellie was stretching out before me, flexing the full length of her arms and legs. Her bare legs. I followed the legs up, expecting shorts or maybe even panties, but a sagging babyish diaper greeted my eyes. In a few moments, it all rushed back to me, and I remembered I liked that kind of thing. I reached forward, and gave her exposed diaper an affectionate firm pat. Apparently, she didn’t think I was awake, because she yelped in surprise, and covered her butt with both hands. I burst out laughing, and she pouted at me cutely.

“Not funny!” she said, with a little “hmph.” My eyes went back to the sagging portion of the diaper. It was kind of a weird sensation, seeing it. I guess I expected it, being what it was for, but seeing it in front of you is a different experience. A grown, mature teenager was standing before him in a used disposable diaper meant for babies, it was… pretty cute. I couldn’t believe I was telling myself this, but it was pretty damn cute. I stood up. Actually, allow me to correct myself. I TRIED to stand up, but I was so stiff from my sleeping position, my back and neck ached, and I sat back down.

“Ow…” I moaned, rubbing my neck.

“You baby,” she said, giggling.

“Look who’s talking, I see someone wet their diaper!” I teased, poking the front, which was now faced toward me. Her hands shot down to fend off the invading finger. “H-hey, not fair,” she whined, blushing deeply. I tried standing again. Round two, success.

“Little Shellie needs a change!” I poked her side, and she giggled.

“Nah, not today,” she said in a disappointed voice.

“Aw, why not? What time is it?” I was disappointed too. I wanted to see her squirm.

“It’s like, nine, but this is the most embarrassing secret of my life, and I’d rather your parents not find out, I don’t want them coming home early.”

“Fair enough,” I admitted. “Can I at least take it off?”

“Well…” she contemplated the question for a few moments. “Okay.” I took her hand, and guided her to my room, in much the same manner as last night.

“There’s one more reason I brought one of these,” she confessed on our way to the room.
“Yeah?” I asked.

“I uh… I still wet the bed. I don’t know why. I think I have a weak bladder.”

“So you…” Peed on me while I slept, I finished in my head.

“Yeeeeeah…” she said, “I’m ashamed. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t mention it. I think it’s cute.” I could tell I caught her off-guard, but it was only a half-lie. Sure, I didn’t mind, but the idea of being peed on wasn’t exactly… you know. It just felt like the right thing to say, to ease her mind.

Once we reached the room, she laid atop my bed again. I reached forward, plucking the diaper tapes off of the front of the diaper. I had a little more confidence than last night, I lowered the diaper from its position atop her lady parts, and let it fall between her legs. She blushed again, being exposed. The smell of stale urine greeted my nose. Not exactly pleasant, but I could stand it. She handed her bag to me. I looked in, and noticed a small pack of wipes. Okay, that little bit of confidence I had, bye bye. Wow. I really wasn’t prepared for this. I opened the pack of wipes, and removed one with a shaky hand.

“You mean…?” I asked, red all the way up to my ear tips.

“You’d have to eventually! I can’t walk around smelling like pee. And YOU’RE the one that wanted to change me,” she said matter-of-factly. I took the wipe, and purposefully avoiding that special no no part, began to wipe her lady area free of the icky residue. She lifted her bottom, and I slid the diaper out from under her. I had no idea how to roll a diaper into those neat little bundles, so I just put the wipe in it, and balled it up, throwing it at my trashcan. It landed in the can, but was extremely obvious, covering the entire top portion. I’d have to deal with that later. I picked up the clothes she kicked off last night, and she reached out for them. Guess her little girl side was gone, she wanted to do it herself. I handed them to her.

“You know, I probably would have let you dress me, definitely not as embarrassing as putting me in a diaper,” she said as she stood up, putting her legs into the panties. The thought made my full-on blush return. She pulled her skirt up to her waist. She looked exactly like she had for years in the past now. Same old Shellie.

“Okay, Tommy,” she said in a cheerful, although authoritative voice, back to her normal babysitter self, “time for breakfast!”

“Can I cook-”

“Nope!” she cut me off, and ruffled my hair. So much for the last 16 hours. I followed her into the kitchen, sat down at the table, and was just… bored, so bored, as she cooked pancakes. Compared to the excitement of last night, normal stuff seemed boring.

“What’s wrong, Tommy?” She asked, seeing my chin supported by my hand.

“Bored.” I stated the obvious.

“Aww, don’t worry, I’ll be back. Remember, you can’t be home alone, and your parents like to go out every weekend, there’ll be more times.”

“Yeah, I guess,” I replied apathetically. Shellie put two pancakes in front of me. They had chocolate chips in them, my favorite. I smiled.

“Thanks, Shellie.” I said, grabbing a fork and knife that had also been set beside me.

“Yew welcome, Tommy!” She said cheerfully, in her cutest little girl voice. I beamed at that. I understood what she meant; reminding me it wasn’t magically going away. After I finished with the pancakes, Shellie dragged a chair next to me. “Listen, Tommy…” she said, speaking slowly, articulating her thoughts. Uh oh… what kind of bomb was she ready to drop on me?

“Last night was… one of the most comforting nights of my life. I want to thank you for being willing to facilitate my needs. I don’t know what got into me, if I had a rational mind, I probably wouldn’t have ever revealed it to you. And that’s not to say I don’t trust you, it’s just VERY embarrassing by its very nature, something most of “us” (she pointed to herself) never tell anyone who isn’t already into it. Just wanted to give you the heads up, you’re pretty much one of the coolest people I’ve met.” She hugged me again. It wasn’t the tight hug from last night, but it reaffirmed everything she had just told me.

“Is there going to be a next time?” I asked. I
REALLY wanted a next time.

“Well, you basically gave me everything I’ve ever had fantasies about and more, so… I wonder,” she said, the last part in a teasy, sarcastic tone. I smiled hopefully. I noticed her eyelashes were wet.

“Happy tears again?” I asked. She nodded.

“I’m sorry, am I crying again? This is just… a real emotional subject. I’ve never had anyone that’s loved me before.” Woah. Love? That sent me spinning. “As a friend, I mean,” she added quickly, obviously aware of what she said. I must admit, my heart skipped a beat when she mentioned “love,” and then sank pretty far when she said “friends.” I don’t know what kind of feelings were raging in me, but they definitely didn’t like the word friends. Still, I took it in stride, nodding. Stupid boy hormones. Why couldn’t I just be an adult? I’d already know all this girl stuff. The rest of the day passed without much of anything to comment on. She went to her MTV/phone routine, I went to my games. At about one, I came out and asked for grilled cheese, which she was more than happy to make for me. At about one thirty, there was a sharp knock on the door, and then dad entered before anyone could get up to answer it. Warning knock, I called it. I was sitting quietly beside Shellie, not doing much of anything.

“Hey guys, we’re home!” Dad said in a cheery voice. Clearly I’m no expert as you know, but I could tell he had a good night last night.

“Hey,” I said, trying to sound sincere. It’s not that I wasn’t, I just had no feelings either way. Shellie got up to greet them, and I knew her cheery demeanor WAS sincere.

“Hello, Mr. and Ms. Patterson!” she chirped, giving mom a hug.

“Someone’s in a good mood,” she commented.

“Always!” came the reply.

“Did Tom mind his manners?” Dad asked, looking over at me.

“Oh, he was wonderful!” she told him, in her cheery voice. “Just a little angel. No problems at all.” I smiled smugly. I’d be willing to bet a month’s allowance dad was expecting to have to lecture me because I’d caused some sort of problem. He looked like he’d just seen mom grow an extra head. Mom just looked surprised. I wanted to feel indignant, but they kinda had a right to react that way. I was a bit of a problem child.

“Oh… well… great!” he said, genuinely smiling. I saw him palm her a $50 bill. Woah. Usually she only gets $30. Was he really giving her a bonus for keeping me in line? I shrugged internally. It didn’t concern me. Shellie walked over and gave me one last hug. I hugged her back. I tried not to feel crushing disappointment as she waved goodbye to all of us, in our front doorway. When she left, it was quiet.

“Thank you for being good for the babysitter,” dad told me. I just nodded. “No, really, I’m proud of you. Maybe I’ll think about this babysitter thing a bit more.” For dad to even hint that he might have made the wrong decision, let’s just say I almost fell off of the couch. Mom just smiled. Dad was done with whatever business he had with me, and strode off down the hall. Mom came over and gave me her own hug.

“I know you might think it doesn’t mean much, but you came a long way in proving you were mature today,” she told me. I nodded again. “No, really,” she said, lifting my chin with her finger, so that I was face to face with her. “You know your father and I love you, and we only do what we do for your benefit.” Oh great… one of THOSE speeches. Fact is, I knew they were, but what kid is going to willingly take that as a reasonable excuse for any parental discipline? I decided to play nice.

“I know mom,” I said, hugging her back. “I love you too.” Her smile got ten times brighter. Cue brownie points, I thought, giving myself a mental high five. She got up and walked off to do… whatever it is grown-ups did when they weren’t directly overseeing their kids. I got up and walked back to my room. I flopped down on my bed. Last night had to have been a dream. There’s no way something that awesome happened to my boring life. Shellie was back to her old self today, like nothing had happened. I looked over at my trash can. Shit, I thought. I could see the diaper plain as day, sitting on the top of the trash. I walked over, and picked it up. It smelled of stale pee, and was quite heavy. Heavy, solid proof that last night definitely did happen. I dumped a bunch of trash out, what I figured was half, and crammed the used diaper in on top of what was left. As I filled the can with the spilled contents, effectively sandwiching the used diaper in the middle, I smiled. Last night definitely DID happen… and I definitely wanted it to happen again.

Re: My Baby Sitter

Good :slight_smile:

Re: My Baby Sitter

I enjoyed the story thoroughly; I really hope you post more soon.

I have a little bit of hard time believing Shellie’s character. If she’s as emotionally wrecked as she acts, the reasons for it should be apparent to Tom’s parents. Also, it feels like she’s pretty good at building up walls if she has friends, etc. I’m not saying that this couldn’t happen - but her and Tom need to have a closer relationship than is suggested in the story to jump from not knowing to diapered cuddling in one night.

Tom is in an unusual situation, most parents aren’t that protective of a fourteen year old, but some are. Plus, mildly lust driven acceptance of the only woman on his radar makes a certain amount of sense. Suspension of disbelief was fine for him.

Keep up the good writing!

Re: My Baby Sitter


Re: My Baby Sitter

Great story! nice reversal, i always love it when we see through the
perspective of the non-diapered character.
Might have been a bit more realistic if they were closer friends.

But still a great concept that i very much enjoyed reading.
And would love to see a sequel. Thank you for sharing. :slight_smile:

Re: My Baby Sitter

great so far defiantly a twist to the traditional babysitter cliché.
I do hope you continue

Re: My Baby Sitter

Amazing, one of the best stories I’ve read in a while. I will be waiting, very impatiently, for more.

Re: My Baby Sitter

I have read this several times and each time find it amazing for the way it reaches the real meaning of the “L” word.

Re: My Baby Sitter

Great story so far I like how the role switching it nice twist