My wife was pregnant. We had been married about nine months, and now she surprised me with the announcement, “honey, I’m pregnant!” I had been looking forward to this moment for a while, wondering if and when it would ever happen. Thinking about the baby that was to come in nine months, my inner feelings and desires began to surface once again. So I went out to the store and made my purchases and drove back home, safekeeping my items in the car for the moment.
“Honey”, I began, “we’re going to have a lot of work ahead of us in the next nine months. But the most work we’re going to have is when our baby comes. Have you taken care of a baby before? Have you even ever CHANGED DIAPERS before?”
My wife thought for a moment and then said, “Well no, honey, I haven’t changed diapers for about 18 years, when my little brother was three and I was six. Even then, I only got to change one of his poopy diapers when my mom wasn’t home.”
“Well, honey, I’ve got an idea”, I nervously stated. “As you know (I had told her some months before we got married), I’ve had a diaper fetish for a long time, longer than I can really even remember. In fact, as you also know, I at times want to be a baby all over again. So what do you think if I got some diapers and we practiced over the next few months?”
“That’s an excellent idea!” my wife exclaimed with a strange sort of glint in her eye. “Tomorrow’s Friday, so why don’t we start right after work?”
“Great. And so it’s settled.”
PART II
I came home from work very excited (and a little stiff in certain areas). My wife awaited me on our rocking chair in the living room. I carried the Attends brand extra-absorbent adult diapers into the house with me. The bag also contained about five-hundred baby wipes and a bottle of powder, as well as some Johnson and Johnson baby lotion. I set these things on the ground, as my wife dug out my old Adult Baby Hypno-Regression video that I had purchased some years before but never had had the chance to try out.
“Ready Andy? (We had decided that this name would be appropriate for the weekend)” my wife rhetorically asked. I lay down on a beach towel in front of the T.V. and stripped down to my birthday suit. My wife then proceeded to diaper me, placing a little bit of lotion and some powder on my buttocks and penis and pubic region before doing so. She placed three diapers ripped down the middle on me and taped up all three before placing a fourth and “final” diaper over me. As she did so, an extremely babyish feeling came over me, although I felt very excited (and more than a little stiff) with my treatment. All efforts to sit up were greeted with the soft, crinkly rustle of the fresh white diaper(s) against my waist, and when I stood up I felt the added weight of the extra three diapers pull down a tiny bit. I then plopped myself down against the chair foot-rest in front of the T.V. Linda handed me a baby-bottle, complete with rubber nipple, full of fresh apple juice, which she instructed me to begin sucking on as soon as the video-tape started. She then inserted ear-plugs into her ears, told me to shout when the video was over, started the tape, and left the room to go “do some work” upstairs (strange, as she never does work on Fridays).
“So you want to be a baby all over again”, the lady’s voice on the video began as I began sucking on my bottle. “You’ve come to the right place”. She then proceeded to put me into a hypnotic trance, during which she reminded me of my pleasant time as a baby (“think back…what was the best time? When did you begin potty training? Could you have spent more time in your wonderful diapers then? How old were you?), and my thoughts gradually returned to those of a two and a half year old….
PART III
The nice lady keeps talking to me. My baba is almost done. Uh-oh!!! “When I snap my fingers, you will lose all control of your bladder”. SNAP!!! Heeheee, that’s so funny! Uh-oh!!! Oooh, pee-pee feel so good!
My diaper began to fill with what must have been at least a liter full of urine. The warm liquid surrounded my pubic area before being gradually absorbed into the diaper. Now the lady says, “And now all control of your bowels will be lost as well. You are now, until your mind tells you otherwise, two and a half years old, a complete toddling baby!”.
Uh-Oh! Poopy in my didee! Lindy!!! Andy dirty diaper!!!!
PART IV
As soon as Linda entered the room, my consciousness snapped back to that of my real age. Strangely though, I felt somehow different. Yes, my diaper was certainly wet, and I could feel warmth squishing up against my buttocks, but something that I couldn’t quite place my finger on felt different.
Linda told me to get up and come over to her, where a change and a fresh diaper awaited me. I got up (with some difficulty, the wet and poopy diaper now sagged significantly under all the weight and pressure, dragging me down a bit, too) and waddled over to her. I lay down on the changing pad that she had set on the floor.
Linda un-taped my diapers, commenting (in baby-talk) on what a messy baby I was. She then wiped me down, but before lotioning and powdering me, gave me another bottle, this time filled with orange juice, and instructed me to drink that as well. As I began drinking it, Linda gently stroked my penis. Before long, I experienced the most powerful orgasm of my entire life. I squirted EVERYWHERE, even on Linda, but she didn’t seem to mind. Instead, she took another baby wipe and wiped me down. All the while, my body was strangely tingling; I still couldn’t quite explain the feeling. Linda then lotioned and powdered me. I looked down and noticed I no longer had pubic hair! Oh well, Linda must have shaved it off while I wasn’t paying attention to add more effect to our game. Linda then lifted my legs (the hair of which had somehow turned lighter) and placed a single diaper around me. This one was much thicker than the other ones (strange, I thought, but then quickly dismissed it) and had a sort of quilted design on the front. After taping up the diaper, Linda gave me another bottle (apple juice again, I for some reason was still not full) and placed a white shirt over my head. She then had me walk upstairs. Walking was now a much bigger effort, every step seemed sluggish and my diaper significantly spread my legs now—I could see (though just barely, as it was difficult to look down at my diaper area while standing up and walking) that my diaper bulged out much more significantly than the other single ones had, and looked strangely like a baby diaper (not just an adult one). Linda seemed much taller, too. Remembering the video, my baby thoughts slowly began to take over once again…
PART V: Conclusion
Lindy walks me upstairs. My diapee is dry again and feels so good on baby Andy’s bottom!!! Lindy opens the door to my room and shows me inside.
(Adult thoughts again.) Linda has completely transformed the guest room into a nursery. As we walk in, there is a crib with a mobile on the right side of the room; the crib looks just like that for a baby. On the opposite side of the room, the left side, is a changing table for babies, with a couple of diaper packages (because my thoughts are very much so regressed, I can no longer read to see what kind of diapers they are, but there are some pictures of babies on them) on the bottom shelf, stacks of over 10000 diapers on the middle two shelves, and all the baby changing accessories on the top shelf—of course the tippy-top shelf is that of a changing pad with a couple of straps for if the baby gets antsy.
Linda lifts me into the crib (how, I don’t know), turns out the light, and leaves. I slowly fall asleep.
An hour later, Linda opens the door and silently lifts me out of the crib and onto the changing table. As she changes my diaper (which is soaked at this point), I can just barely read the side of the diaper package next to me. It reads, “New Pampers baby dry!!! Extra-absorbency! New quilted covers!!! Size five (for babies weighing 27-35 pounds).” That’s strange I think. Linda then produces a pair of blue baby overalls bearing the Osh-Kosh Bigosh logo. She changes my shirt into one bearing a big picture of Big Bird on the front, does up the overalls, and places a Velcro pair of Bert and Ernie sesame street shoes on my feet.
“Andy”, she says, “in case you haven’t figured it out already, I’m not really pregnant. I knew you would want to be treated like this, so I had to find a way to get you to admit it. The bottles I gave you had special formulas in them. While the video didn’t completely mentally regress you, it did do enough “damage” that you can no longer speak normally. While your thoughts may fluctuate between that of an adult and a two-and-a-half-year-old until your regression is complete, everything that comes out of your mouth, like it or not, will always be that of a two and a half year old baby boy. I will remain this age forever so that I can always take care of you. Now, in case you also haven’t figured it out, I have one final surprise for you.”
She lifts me down from the changing table and takes my hand. With Linda (er, Mommy’s) help, I toddle into the master bedroom, where Linda sets me in front of the mirror. Staring back at me is not the mature, muscular adult I am used to seeing, but a slightly drooling, happy toddler wearing diapers, overalls, and Sesame Street clothing. I am a baby.
THE END