Tom sighed deeply as he entered Nancy’s house through the back door. The shorts Sherry had put on him did little to hide the bulk of his diapers and his shameful underthings peeked out from the leg holes. The pink maternity t-shirt draped over him like a dress. He was glad no one saw him as he sat down on the couch.
“Get off of there!” Nancy yelled. “Babies do not sit on the furniture. This is your last warning. Now crawl upstairs to your room for your nap.”
Tom did as he was told. Nancy was right behind him and leaned over him to push the bedroom door open. Tom stopped, thunderstruck. Instead of the plain, adult bedroom he had left that morning, he was looking at a baby’s nursery! From his perspective on the floor, everything looked large, but slowly he realized that all of the furniture was large. It was all baby furniture, scaled for an adult. Closest to him by the door was a huge wooden crib, complete with waterproof mattress and pink sheets. A mobile hung from one of the rails, dangling over the crib. In the far corner by the window stood a changing table, its shelves fully stocked with diapers, panties and assorted wipes, powders and creams. Two dressers, drawers partly opened, revealed booties, sun dresses and footed sleepers. The wallpaper had been changed from a drab green to a bright yellow with light pink and blue trim, and was adorned with dancing baby animals. The curtains were a matching pink with ruffles on the fringe. A potty chair sat alone in one corner. Tom was too astonished to move.
“As you can see, we’ve made a few changes to reflect your new status. Isn’t it cute?” Nancy asked enthusiastically. “I think you’ll like it here. Come on, up into your crib, Tommy.”
Tom reluctantly obeyed. He crawled onto the crib mattress and winced when he felt the rubber sheet underneath. He watched Nancy as she lifted the side rail up and turned on the mobile. The sweet melody of “Rock a Bye Baby” filled Tom’s ears. As Nancy left, Tom realized how exhausted he was. The strain of the morning over came him as he drifted into a restless sleep.
“I don’t believe it; if I didn’t see it, I just wouldn’t believe it.”
Tom opened his eyes groggily. It took him a moment to remember where he was, and his eyes slowly focused on the speaker standing by his crib. He gave a start. It was Lisa! His voice got excited as he saw her beautiful brown eyes looking at him and her ample chest hovering above him.
“Lisa, thank goodness you’re here. You’ve got to help me out of this. Your mom has gone absolutely nuts.” Tom quickly explained how he was set up and had to go along until he could destroy all of the pictures of his baby state, and he implored Lisa to help him find them. He carefully left out any reference to his earlier accidents.
“Yeah, ok,” she replied with a smile. “Looks like you’re not in a position to do much about it yourself. Besides, I’d feel like I was robbing the cradle if I had to undo diapers just to get a little lovin’.” As she spoke, Lisa playfully grabbed Tom’s crotch and gave it a squeeze. Tom froze as he saw her expression change to one of absolute horror. She withdrew her hand slowly, looking first at it and then at Tom with sheer disbelief.
“Oh my God,” she screamed. “You’re wet! I thought Mom was telling stories, but you do need to wear diapers! A man your age not only takes naps but goes to the bathroom in his pants. Gross!” Lisa ran from the room. Tom could hear the water go on in the bathroom.
He cautiously, unbelievingly moved his hand down to his crotch. He gave it a light squeeze and felt the diaper squish in his hand. He was not only wet, he had soaked through his diapers. A quick glance at his bed revealed that the sheet had a wide, wet circle beneath where he was lying. Tom laid back, his head spinning. He didn’t remember even having to go to the bathroom, much less wetting. It was all so confusing…
Moments later, Nancy entered the room. “You made quite an impression on Lisa, little baby. I see you also left your mark on your sheets. Next time we’ll add more didies and some rubber panties. For now, let’s get you changed and into some dry things and then go downstairs for your bottle. Lisa’s warming it up.”
Tom sighed, defeated. He offered no resistance as he was led to the changing table. Nancy hummed to herself as she wiped his genitals and bottom, dropping the heavy yellowed diapers into a large diaper pail. The powder, the oil, it was all too much. He was lost in an infantile world with no way out.
Three days passed and Tom still had no ideas on how to get out of his predicament. The one time he protested his diapering, he was left in dirty diapers for half a day. The resultant rash and memory of Lisa’s comments about “little Mr. Stinky Pants” made him reluctant to offer any more challenges. Worse, he found himself giving in a little more each day. He gobbled up the baby food fed to him from a plastic dish and willingly submitted to naps and long stints in the playpen Nancy had set up downstairs. His boredom even made playing with infant toys a welcome diversion, much to the delight of the ladies of the house. What concerned him most, however, was his growing apathy toward his toilet habits. At first he resisted going until the pain grew too great. Lately, though, he voided as soon as he felt the urge. That morning he had even found himself wetting long before he knew he had to go. His diapers were wet much more often, a fact Nancy gleefully noted and used as evidence that Tommie’s diapers were a necessity, not a punishment.
Tom sat in his playpen pondering his fate when he heard Nancy and Lisa arguing in the kitchen.
“It’s not fair, Mom, you knew I was going out tonight,”
“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice, young lady. I’ve got to go to this meeting and you know we can’t leave baby Tommie by himself. You’ll have to babysit and that’s final.”
Lisa was pouting as she entered the room. “You’re the reason!” she cried, pointing at Tom. “If it weren’t for you—.” Suddenly Lisa stopped. Her eyes lit up and she looked at Tom in a way that made him nervous before she bounded upstairs.
Tom sat still, worried. If only he knew what she was planning. As he sat lost in thought, Nancy came into the room, bent over the top of the playpen and put her hand inside the elastic of his yellow print panties. “Wet as usual,” she sighed. Tom looked at her, surprised. He didn’t even remember peeing.