Re: Skyla
And the next chapter has arrived.
I spent a great deal of time over those few weeks daydreaming. In class, I frequently found myself thinking about Skyla as opposed to the work at hand, and at home I often found myself staring at the wall, thinking of what Skyla and I could do together. The weeks seemed more like months as they dragged on, much like the lead up to Christmas. Finally, the day came. I watched the clock excitedly, barely managing to restrain myself until it was time to leave. I jumped to my feet, grabbed my coat and was gone before my mother had time to blink. Through the cold November streets I went, head down against the wind. It was half an hour until I reached the address, checked my watch to make sure I wasn’t too early and rapped sharply on the floor.
A tall, graceful woman answered the door. I assumed it was Skyla’s mother. She looked confused for a moment, then realisation dawned.
“You must be the babysitter” she said with a smile. “Come in, come in, you’re letting the heat out”
I gratefully stepped in out of the freezing wind, closing the door behind me and removing my coat. Skyla’s mother really was uncannily like her; she had the same hair, the same face, even the same soft voice.
“Thankyou so much for agreeing to do this. You have no idea how hard it is to find a babysitter who’s prepared to change a teenager’s nappies!” she laughed. I gave a slight smile in acknowledgement. “Is there anything special you want me to do?” I asked.
“Just treat her exactly like you would a real baby. Bedtime is 7, nappies are in her bedroom cupboard, bottles and milk are on the side in the kitchen” she replied hurriedly. “Now we really must be off. Thankyou so much, we’ll be back about 11.”
I nodded and smiled, waited in a fever of excitement while her husband came down, closed the door behind them and breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, the longed-for moment had arrived!
Going through into the front room, I found Skyla, the girl of my dreams, lying in a playpen in front of the TV, wearing nothing but a thick babyish nappy. Owing to her lack of any obvious breasts, this was not the sexual pose it might have been with a different girl, but it still excited me.
At the sound of the door opening, she turned to look up at me. She had a large pacifier in her mouth, so couldn’t have spoken, but her eyes widened in shock as she recognised me. I took a metaphorical deep breath, then walked over and tickled her under her chin. She giggled involuntarily, then looked at me in surprise.
“Your parents want me to treat you exactly like a baby. Is that what you want me to do?”
She nodded eagerly, then turned back to the TV. I slipped a hand under each of her arms and lifted her into the air. This was easy owing to her slim figure and small frame. She looked at me in confusion as I carried her over to the sofa and sat her on my lap. I stroked her hair with one hand, and slipped a finger of the other into her nappy.
“I see my little girl is dry” I commented. She blushed bright red as I removed my finger. I didn’t think it was possible for her to blush any more, but she managed it as I pulled out the back of her nappy and looked down. “Clean too! Such a good girl” I softly kissed her forehead. “Now, does baby Sky want her bottle?”
Her face was a picture; a mix of shock, disbelief, and an expression which indicated very clearly that she did want a bottle very badly, but she wasn’t at all sure about me giving it to her. Eventually, after some deep mental debate, she gave a shy nod. I gave her a gentle smile in return, cuddling her for a moment before popping her back in the playpen while I went and got her bottle ready.
In the cool white atmosphere of the kitchen, I leaned my head against the counter while I warmed the baby bottle. I did some deep breathing exercises to try and get myself under control. She was so adorable! Ok… Ok. In… One, two, three… Out. One, two, three… And calm. The microwave beeped, drawing me out of my inner sanctum. I took the bottle of milk out, tested it’s temperature, then carried it through to the front room. I stood in the doorway for a moment, entranced by the scene before me. Skyla was lying on the floor, her arms wrapped around a huge cuddly toy, seemingly oblivious to the yellow stain quickly spreading across the front of her nappy. I smiled to myself, then walked in.
“Hi, cutie” I cooed. She jumped almost a foot, a guilty expression on her face. I pretended to be oblivious, scooping her up and carrying her across to an armchair. She looked up at me in confusion, realisation dawning on her as I arranged her across my lap, rested her head on my arm and offered the nipple of the bottle to her. She immediately took it into her mouth and began to suck rhythmically. I looked down into her sweet, innocent face as the white liquid began vanishing down her throat, a tiny dribble escaping to run down her chin.
When she had drained the bottle, I gently wiped the milk from around her mouth, then leaned her over my shoulder and patted her back firmly. A burp escaped her, and I smiled to myself as I brought her back in front of me and kissed her forehead. I knew perfectly well that she was wet, but I decided to play along a little.
“Do you need a change, sweetie?” I asked. She looked up at me with her big, brown, chocolate eyes and, with a look of perfect innocence on her face, spoke her first word of the evening.
“No” she said. I raised an eyebrow.
“Are you sure, sweetie pie?” She nodded.
“Yes. I big girl. I no wet”
“Let’s just check you, sweetheart. Just to make sure, ok?” I suggested. She nodded shyly. I felt her tense in my arms as I slid a finger into the front of her nappy.
“I think a naughty little girl has been telling me fibs” I said sternly. She blushed prettily and buried her face in my shoulder. I gently stroked her hair.
“Let’s get you changed, ok Sky?” I murmered softly into her ear. She pushed her face further into my shoulder and nodded slightly.
“Ok then” I said, lifting her up gently and carrying her up to her bedroom, where her mother had said the nappies were. Laying her on a changing mat, I went to the cupboard. There was a huge selection. I smiled at the vast array of different products.
“Sweetheart, do you want a nappy or a pull up?” I called over my shoulder. “If you have a pull up, you have to tell me when you want to go potty, ok?”
“…Pull up, please” Skyla said in a tiny voice.
“Sure?” I asked.
“Yeah. Me big girl!” Came the response.
“Ok then” I took a pull up decorated with Dora the Explorer patterns from the stack and walked back to the teenage girl lying on the changing mat.