Ages: 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18+
Current Age: 42
                                         All About Bobby

Hi!

	My name is Bobby. I'm 42 years old, and I'm a baby. I wear 
diapers most of the time, and usually (well, always), I get them put on 
me whether I like it or not.
	I always have to wear a big baby diaper, and there is usually 
Pampers underneath it. My Daddy says that is to make me smell more like 
a baby, and to keep me "Pampers' Baby" dry.
	David used to make me lay down, and he would put diapers on me, 
even if I said no. At night, he would make me have a baby-bottle, and 
would tuck me into bed. I liked to be tucked into bed by David because 
it made me feel safe and secure. I didn't like it sometimes (but only a 
little), because when he tucked me in, he would tie me up- hands and 
feet. Then he would snuggle me (wrap me) up in my baby blankets, so I 
was safe and warm all night. I couldn't even get up sometimes when I 
wanted to, and David really liked that.
	After he fed me my bottle, he would put a pacifier in my mouth, 
then secure it there with duct tape. It was nice having him take care 
of me, but I know I am helpless at this point, and totally dependent on 
David. If I misbehave, I get a spanking. But I know not to argue, 
because at this point, I have to do as I'm told, and be Davids' good 
baby boy.
	So, now is when David usually makes me to call him Daddy, or Da-
Da. It's kind of embarrassing, but if I don't, I get my bottom spanked, 
so I do it.
	A typical day goes kind of like this:

David:
 Dad, do you know what time it is?
	
Bobby:
 I think it's about noon.

David:
 Know, I mean do you KNOW what time it is?

Bobby:
 Umm, uh-uh.

David:
 Ohh-kayy, I think ya do, buddy... (David says with a smirk.)

Bobby:
 O.K., what time is it, then?

David:
Time for you to get your diapers on, that's what time it is. C'mon 
buddy, let's get your dry ones on.

Bobby:
	Aww, c'mon David, I was just getting into this movie. I don't 
want to do that right now (Bobby whines)

David:
	Did I sound like I was asking you what you wanted to do, Dad? 
Because I wasn't.
	Now, c'mon, let's get you Pampers on now. If you're good, I may 
let you come back down for a bit in a t-shirt and your diaper... but I 
really think it's time for you to have a nap.

Bobby:
	You know I don't like to come down here in t-shirts and diapers. 
It's embarrassing, Bobby mutters.

David:
	Again, did you think I was asking? Now let's go! David said in a 
tone that let me know that I was to give no more sass.
	And you know the rules when it's dypie time, right?

Bobby:
	Bobby knew, so he replied as he was supposed to. "Yes, Daddy".
	Sometimes, though, he prefers me to call him David at diaper 
time, so that I am reminded, every time I speak his name, that my SON 
has FORCED me into diapers. He often loves to remind me of this fact.
	Of course, I am ALWAYS baby or Bobby, to remind me of my place 
and baby stature.

David:
	Ohhh-kayyy then, Bobby. Let's go get your dry-ones on.

	 So, Bobby submissively did as he was told, and followed David 
upstairs to Bobbys' nursery, where he was to be diapered for the rest 
of the day.

David:
	"Here, open up, so I can put your thinger-jinger in your mouth."
	This is how David referred to my pacifier.

	David picked me up, and put me on the changing table that he had 
built just for me, in what used to be HIS bedroom. There was a crib in 
there for me, also. David built that too. I seldom used it, though, as 
David liked to have baby sleeping in bed with him, all tucked in and 
warm.
	It was really embarrassing when he said:
 "Look, Bobby! You taught me to build so well that I made you your very 
own crib and high-chair!" "Now, thank Daddy!" All sing-songy with 
himself.
	And, I had to do as I was told, or risk a spanking.
	"Thanks, Daddy..." I glumly replied, and my discomfort made him 
happy, and he laughed, telling me how cute I was now that I was his 
baby.
	Really, it was awfully nice furniture. Well crafted, cute, and 
very baby-like. Not at all like a lot of the baby furniture David shows 
me on the internet.
	David is also very proud of me that he doesn't need to put a 
"top" on my crib, as he know that his baby has been taught very well 
that he mustn't get out of the crib, unless Daddy gets him out.
	So, anyway, he picked me up to the changing table, and then he 
put the strap across me so I wouldn't accidentally fall off, like I was 
a real baby or something. He knew that I knew better than try to 
struggle with him, or get down without permission.
	I'd tried it once, and when I lost the struggle, I spent the day 
in a diaper, riding around in the backseat of the car like a baby. I'll 
never make that mistake again, and he knows it.
	So, David took off my shoes and pants, and my shirt then my 
onesie t-shirt that he bought me which was under my outside shirt.
	David said the onesie was for me, so my Pampers didn't show, but 
I think it was for him, because on the front, there was a baby-bottle, 
and the words "Daddys' Baby" in powder blue.
	David got a kick out of knowing I was trapped in that onesie 
while we were in public, and if I gave him "a hard time", as he called 
it, he would threaten to show my onesie to people. I was always afraid 
he would, so then I would "behave".
	"A hard time" consisted of my trying to make him behave, which I 
was seldom "allowed" to do, since our roles now were mostly reversed.
	So, he gets the onesie off, and wipes me all down with baby oil, 
so I smell "nice". Then he puts baby powder all over me, leaves me 
there exposed except for my training pants, and goes to wash his hands, 
knowing I am safely strapped to the table for the time being.
	When he comes back, he's all sing-songy.
	David:
	"Oooh-kayy baby boy. All cute and cuddly smellin'! Time for your 
dypies."
	 Sometimes I want to cry with frustration and embarrassment when 
he does that, but he is just lovin' me up, and isn't trying to be mean, 
so most usually, it kinda makes me happy.
	David puts my diaper on me, then he slides a Pampers' diaper up 
under me, lifting me easily by the ankles to do it. I'm not allowed to 
help, and David does it all, with my tummy strapped firmly down...for 
"safety".
	David lifts my legs helplessly in the air gain, and liberally 
sprinkles Johnsons' baby powder all over my butt and stuff. He brings 
the soft crinkly Pamper up in the front, and while holding it there 
firmly, reaches down and brings the other diaper snugly up over top of 
it. This diaper, he tapes securely. The combined powerful smell of the 
Pampers and the baby powder fill the air, and along with the soft 
comfort of the diaper, my helplessly trapped wee-wee tries to rise. 
This, of course, brings yet more teasing from David:
	"Oh, look, baby Bobbys' tiny pee-pee is struggling to make a 
salute! Boy, isn't too much there to pitch a tent with, is there? You 
know, Bobby, with that little pisser you ought to be glad you don't 
have to be embarrassed with the girls anymore! I make you proud with 
mine, and the gals only see yours when I let them change your Pampers 
once in a while!"
	And, yes, he does every so often, let other people put me in or 
change my diapers. He thinks it makes me look cute. But he says he 
doesn't like to do it too much, because that's just for Daddy and Baby 
Boy, so we have our "Special Time".
	All of my diapers now have a taping panel on them of Care Bears, 
Winnie The Pooh or Disney Babies. David got the tape for them 
somewhere, and put bigger taping tabs on the diapers, then this panel 
thingy. It really makes them look just like baby diapers, and they are 
a lot harder for me to wiggle around in this way. That makes my Daddy 
happy. He also says that "it helps stop leaks".
	So, now David gets out the padded wrist things that he puts on me 
so my hands aren't to free. He calls them "Baby cozy straps", but they 
are seatbelt like restraints that I can't get free of. Sometimes he 
puts hand socks on with no thumbs, and Booties for my feet.
	He has the same thing for my ankles. They both have baby patterns 
on them too. David says it's to help remind me at all times that I am 
HIS baby.
	Now, Daddy puts a t-shirt on me that has snaps on the shoulders. 
It's not a onesie, this time, but pretty much looks like one.
David:
	"Okay, Bobby, I think we're all set now", and he puts the 
pacifier back in my mouth.

	Then David undoes the safety strap. He gets my bottle, and picks 
me up without my ankles being strapped and carries me downstairs, 
holding me as easily as any baby, safe in his very strong arms.
	He's been weight-lifting for a while, and he carries me easily. I 
know better than try to struggle, as he's much stronger than me now.
	Back down to watch t.v., David swaddles me up in my baby blanket, 
laying me on it, then putting my restrained hands on my tummy, brings 
the bottom of the baby blanket up over my legs, them wraps first one 
side, then the other, over the front of me and around my back. Now I'm 
bundled up just like any infant is, and when he lays me down on the 
couch with him, my weight on the wrapped blanket makes it that much 
more secure. I couldn't get out even if I wanted to, or dared to try.
	After David got me comfortably on his lap in my helpless state, 
he put the bottle in my mouth, and held me while he watched t.v., 
waiting for me to doze off for my nap. It usually doesn't take long.
	I'm used to all of this now, anyway, and it makes me feel much 
safer being helpless in my son/Daddys' arms. David is real happy with 
me now, and we don't fight near as much as we used to, as long as I do 
as I'm told and behave good.
	After a while, I doze comfortably off to sleep, and David says 
"There you go, my little boy. Sleep peacefully now. Won't be too long, 
and all you'll be wearing is diapers all the time. Then you'll always 
be my happy baby."

	I'm sure you're wondering by now why I'm telling you all this 
stuff.
	Well, the other day, baby (that's me, Bobby) was cranky, and 
didn't listen. So, Daddy/David says I have to write this all down, and 
tell you guys about it, so everybody knows that I am a baby...his baby, 
and so that I realize better that I HAVE to do as I'm told.
	David says he has already told you all about me, when he sent in 
the story on another page here, called "My Son Put Me Back in Diapers". 
He says to tell you that is just the way it happened, so you don't get 
the idea that it's just a story. Well, that's how it happened. I was 
pretty mad at first, but now I feel a lot better about it.
	David got my old job, and now I don't don't have to worry about 
the bills. He keeps up my credit, and has even had me help him to 
establish his. I guess, out of all of this, the best thing about it is 
that it has made David learn to be a lot more responsible about his 
life. Of course, now I can't be very responsible with mine. But, David 
says it's a lot better for me this way.
	So, that's all about Bobby. But, I don't mind being made to wear 
diapers all the time, whether I want to or not.
	The truth of the matter is, I really want to, and I'm happy now, 
feeling very safe all the time with my Daddy.
	Bobby