A Comedy of AR's

by: Sammderr | Story In Progress | Last updated Jun 21, 2024

Chapter 18
Why I Hate Being a Baby

Chapter Description: Images for this story can be found at the following web...... https://sites.google.com/view/comedy-ars-characters/home

I was dreaming that I was driving my car in my job of food delivery and was stressing out because I couldn’t locate the right address.  When my car hit another car, it woke me up.


At first, I was in a fog again.  I was looking at tall wooden bars and a giant rabbit.  When I sat up, I realized that I was weighted down by a heavy loaded diaper.  It’s disgusting when you have to change one.  It’s even more disgusting when you have to be in one.  I did the math in my little brain and figured that I must be another year older … maybe two and a half now?  It’s frustrating to be physically trapped in the wrong body.  I can understand more clearly now why Sammantha hates having a vagina.  I didn’t call out for help.  I decided to sit in my wet diaper until Sammantha made an appearance.  It wasn’t long.


“Good morning, sunshine!” she gushed.  “Did you and bunny rabbit sleep well?”


“We did, Mommy, but I have a little problem.”  I pointed down.


She felt the fullness.  “Well it’s a good thing you were wearing a diaper, isn’t it? Let’s get you fixed up and ready for your busy day.”


‘Busy day’ didn’t sound like anything I wanted to be a part of.  Sammantha set me back down on my regular bed and got busy with baby wipes and powder, not the ideal way I would have liked to start my day.


“Oh my, you look a little bigger than last night … a bigger baby anyway.”


“I’m almost three, Mommy.”


“Do you want to try the Pampers today, and see which brand you like better?”




She quickly dressed me in our Goodwill favorites … a tee shirt, stretch pants, and little shoes … then took me to the kitchen and placed me for the first time in my high chair.


“I have to compliment you, sweety, for picking out such a nice high chair for yourself.  It looks like you’re sitting in the lap of a big blue bear.  So, would you like to try some oatmeal?”




“Open your mouth.”


“Can’t I feed myself?”


Sammantha shook her head.  “Nope, you’re just a baby.  Put your bib on and open your mouth.”


(I think I could have fed myself.  I won’t know unless I try.  She just wanted to further humiliate me.  But I have to admit that each spoonful she put in my mouth tasted pretty good.  She remembered to add the brown sugar and raisons.)


I said, “Good breakfast, Mommy.”


“Thank you, sweety.”


Sammantha unclipped the tray and allowed me to slide off the high chair.  “We’re going grocery shopping first, sweety.  You’re lucky you don’t have to eat baby food in those jars.  They taste pretty bad.  And you were smart to pick up a toddler seat for the car. It will fit you till you’re big enough for the booster seat again.  You might actually enjoy your ‘baby’ day today, although it’s too bad you keep growing.


(No, I will not enjoy a day of being a baby.  I should have taken the swats.)


I was glad to see that Sammantha had mellowed some after last night’s tirade.  She didn’t mention a thing about it.  When we got to the grocery store, she carried me across the parking lot and deposited my two-year-old body into the seat of a shopping cart so that I faced her.  At least my legs weren’t spread wide apart this time.  I don’t recall ever doing this before.


As I looked to the side, Sammantha surprised me by shoving a pacifier into my mouth.  What the hell?  The embarrassment gave me an instant hard-on.  This was absolutely not necessary.


“Derrek, I don’t want you talking during this errand.  People might get suspicious if they hear you using big words.  So just suck on your ‘binky’ till we leave.  If I ask you something, you can nod for yes or shake your head for no.”


I always felt that a pacifier would be the ultimate humiliation … worse than a diaper.  It would be like calling out ‘hey look at me, I’m a stupid baby.’  What a croc.  This is where I would draw the line, no matter what.  I pulled the ‘binky’ out of my mouth and threw it on the floor.  Then I crossed my arms in silent protest.  If she wants to spank me here, so be it.  I’ll endure the pain.


Sammantha gave me a funny look.  “Here, Derrek, there’s something I want to give you.”


Well it wouldn’t take a baby genius to figure out that the thing she was going to give me would be similar to the thing she gave me on our first trip to Goodwill.  But I decided my pride was worth it to accept the painful swat to my buttocks.  And with a diaper as padding, it shouldn’t be that bad.




(What the fuck?! … Holy shit! … She looked around and then slapped the left side of my face.  For a moment, I was seeing stars … Fuckin’ bitch, that hurt! … I was utterly shocked, and slow to react with my first cry.  A slap to the face is so deeply personal and demonstrates unquestionably, just who is in control.  During this one moment, I really hated Sammantha and my whole face was a whimpering frown.  Then the crying came.  I hated the baby sounds I was making.)


She offered the pacifier to me again.


I said weakly, “It’s dirty … it was on the floor.”


She countered, “And who threw it on the floor?”


I did not answer.


She repeated loudly right in my face, “Who threw the binky on the floor, Derrek?!”


I sniffed and I whimpered, “I did.”


“Well, you’re lucky, Derrek.  Because the five-second rule applies to pacifiers too.  So either open your mouth and start sucking, or we can light up the other side of your face to match.”


(Adults always think they can order kids around and spank us just because they’re bigger.  It’s like our feelings don’t matter.  And I’m not even a baby anymore.  I’m almost three.  Isn’t that when most kids stop using a pacifier?  It feels like it was a hundred years ago since I was having sex with Sammantha every night.  I was satisfying her sexual needs and feeling like a real man.  Now she just makes fun of my penis because it’s too small to do anything.  And on top of that, I have zero sex drive even if I wanted to do something.  Well I can’t stand being a baby.  ‘grrrrrrrrr’.  I don’t know how babies can stand being babies.  There are no happy babies.  If there are, they’re faking it.)


This was just another argument that I had lost.  I opened my mouth and a dirty ‘binky’ was shoved into it.  It tasted gritty.  It was awful.  Sammantha continued shopping.


“So what would you like to eat, sweety?”  She went on as if nothing happened.


At least she didn’t pick up broccoli and cauliflower.  Her choices weren’t bad, a lot of comfort foods … peanut butter and jelly, frozen pizza, hot dogs, mac and cheese, pasta … and I was fine with green beans, corn, and chicken noodle soup.  I know these were mostly processed foods, but I remembered that neither of us likes to cook much.


We were nearing the end, but something was wrong … I didn’t feel good.  I couldn’t sense what was happening.  But then I realized I had done something that usually only a baby would do.  (Hello?  I’m a baby … duhhh.)  I didn’t understand why I couldn’t feel that a ‘number two’ was going through me.  God, this was so embarrassing.  I was hoping that Sammantha wouldn’t notice until we got home.


No such luck.  Her olfactory gland caught the scent and she lifted me up and sniffed my butt.  (Oh, that’s always a dignified look.)


She was not happy.  “Jesus Christ, Derrek … you couldn’t wait till we got home?  If you’re trying to prove to me that you don’t want to be a baby, this is not the way to do it … and don’t try to use your age as an excuse.  I think you did it on purpose.”


I looked down and held my ‘binky’ so I could speak.  “Sorry, Mommy … Can we just go home?”


She shook her head.  “You act like a baby and you talk like a baby.  Do you really want everyone in the checkout line to smell you?  Are you deliberately trying to embarrass me?”


I shook my head, “No, Mommy.”


“You’re not very good at role-playing a baby, are you?  Maybe a few more weeks of training and spankings would help you.”


“Please no, Mommy.”


“You certainly deserve it.  Well, now I need to take you to the ladies rest room.  They have a changing table there and you’ll be able to show off your lack of assets to all the girls.”


(Ewww, what could be more uncomfortable than a parade of girls and women smiling at me as they walk by, looking at my thingy and butthole getting the baby-wipe treatment?  And that’s pretty much what happened.  It was the wrong time to get an erection.  Isn’t it always the wrong time?)


I was nude from the waist down, waiting to get a clean diaper.  One woman stuck her nose at me closely and cooed, “What a cute little boy.” (Gee, how did she know I was a boy?)  When she tousled my hair, I so badly wanted to pull out my binky and say ‘fuck you, bitch’, but fear of additional punishment kept me from making things worse.


“Don’t they grow up fast?” she quipped.


“They sure do,” Sammantha agreed.


Sammantha was taking to long.  With her back turned, two eleven-year-old girls ran over to my changing table giggling and pointing.  “Look, Duchess! His weiner’s sticking up!”


Then she whispered to Duchess, “This is what I do to my little brother.”


“Do what?” I thought.  I’m just laying here totally exposed, sucking on my binky.  What the hell do these sixth grade skanks want from me?”


Suddenly, she grabbed my erection tightly and yanked it up and down as hard as she could.


Before I could even spit out my binky and scream, they were ready to split.


“Come on, Starline!  Let’s get out of here!


The two girls ran away giggling loudly. I saw them giving each other a high five.


Sammantha was displeased with the racket I was making.  She squeezed my facial cheeks into a ‘fish face’ and said harshly, “Shut up, Derrek, you’re making a scene.”


Then she shoved the binky back into my mouth and ordered me to ‘suck it.’


I had just been sexually assaulted by two young bitches-in-training, but since I’m a baby, nobody cares one iota about my feelings.


The ride home wasn’t pleasant.  Sammantha kept giving me side glances.  “Derrek, you can suck your binky or you can suck your thumb.  I don’t care which as long as I don’t have to listen to your whining.  Going grocery shopping should have been an easy errand.  Why did you have to be such a pill?”


Obviously, I couldn’t answer her if I was sucking on something.  When we got home, she asked me to help carry in the groceries.  She gave me a banana.  I handled the task well, but I wondered if the gesture was merely to remind me of how small my penis was compared to the banana.  I remembered that sometimes it’s fun to jack off into a banana peel … but not at the moment.


She brought in the rest and put a mac-and-cheese in the microwave for both of us.  I climbed up into my high chair on my own.  It felt great to spit out my binky and eat real food.


Sammantha actually let me feed myself this time, not because I was growing up, but because she was losing patience with me.


“Derrek, I have to go in to work for a few hours this afternoon and I’m dropping you off at a daycare.”


That didn’t sound good.  “Can’t I come to your office and play quietly in another room?”


“After the ruckus you caused this morning?  No way.  Besides, I don’t think we want Frumpy asking nosy questions about you.  The daycare has all ages from zero to six.  You’re going in as a three.  Here are your instructions … Stay the hell away from water, don’t use big words, and play nicely with the other children.”


“Do you think I’ll be bored, Mommy?”


“Derrek, I don’t give a shit what you do there as long as you behave yourself and don’t create a scene.   And for god’s sake, try not to load up your diaper.”


(I wouldn’t have had to worry about that if I wasn’t a frickin baby.)






End Chapter 18

A Comedy of AR's

by: Sammderr | Story In Progress | Last updated Jun 21, 2024


To comment, Join the Archive or Login to your Account

The AR Story Archive

Stories of Age/Time Transformation

Contact Us