My very being was pulled into all the right extremes. My eyes were closed, my mouth was open, my tummy felt bloated, my diaper was saturated, and my was soul full. I unlatched from Skye’s nipple and let out a contented sigh. Then, without thinking about it, I whispered:
“I love you, Mommy.”
Skye pulled me closer to her; almost smothering me in her heaving bosom with one hand as she rubbed my back. I looked up as she loosened her embrace the tiniest bit and she smiled.
“Say it again, baby boy.” she told me. “Say it again,”
“I love you, Mommy.”
Skye leaned in and gave me the tenderest, most loving of kisses on the cheek, before looking me in the eyes.
“Gavin,” she said. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that. Now let’s go get you changed.”
“Okay,” I agreed, dreamily, still lost in the amazing sense of rightness that I was awash in. Maybe I was an adult baby after all. And maybe that was okay. With Skye around, everything was going to be okay. Always.
I hadn’t even turned to walk with her, when she grabbed me and picked me up to carry me. Such simple words, but they really are the best descriptors. She didn’t foist, or heave, or lug, or heft. All of those words are wrong. They convey too much effort on her part. She just picked me up, and carried me; easy as that.
I didn’t even question it this time. Not really. There was no need to question it. It was Skye. She could do anything. Mother is the name for God on the lips and hearts of all children. And right then, some essential part of me that I had kept buried for time untold knew her to be God. She was Skye. She was Mommy. Nothing else mattered.
I bobbed up and down with each step that she took. My legs wrapped comfortably around her slender waist, my soggy bum was supported easily by one dainty hand while I peered over her shoulder, finally feeling just a tiny bit taller than her. Funny how I didn’t get to see over her until she made me feel so small.
This was going to be great, I knew. I had a girlfriend and a Mommy now. I’d get to have everything I ever wanted. I could be happy at last. I could have my cake and eat it, too. No more having to worry about being stuck in my mom’s basement while my sick fantasies took the place of real companionship.
Skye had shown me the truth of what I was. She had already seen it, and now I saw it in myself. And all it took was her drugging me, and pushing me into a zoo filled with babies to realize that I had more in common with them, emotionally, than I did people my own age.
I didn’t flinch this time as Skye brought me into a public diaper changing area. Let them stare. I was happy and was with the woman I loved more than anything. With much more care than before when I had messed myself- God I secretly hoped she’d let me do that again; it felt so good when you weren’t humiliated by it- Skye laid me down on the large changing table. Like the last time, it was soft enough to be comforting to a child, but sturdy and big enough to accommodate me.
Skye hummed to herself a combination victory tune and lullabye as she unsnapped my shortalls. The clothing that I had been so convinced would make me look like a big-boy became little more than a dress that barely covered my diaper as the snaps came undone. With almost practiced ease Skye shimmied the shortalls up past my belly button, my wet diaper on full display.
The ripping, tearing sounds of tapes rang in my ears as Skye wordlessly undid them, and I felt fresh air seep into my diaper area as Skye pulled the front of the Rearz down, exposing my privates.
My manhood stiffened up, almost reflexively as she reached for the packet of wipes and began to caress me down, wiping every inch with seductive tenderness.
“Does my baby boy like having his diapee changed, now?” she cooed. I nodded, grinning from behind my thumb as I popped it into my mouth. It felt so good to suck my thumb. I could admit it now. It made me feel little, and in need of care, but without shame. I could have no shame ever again, as long as I was with her.
“Up we go,” Skye baby-talked to me in the sing-song lilt of mothers everywhere as she lifted my legs up and wiped my backside. She slid the used diaper out from under me, and slid under a new, pristine diaper, ready for soiling. “Down we go,” she cooed as she lowered my hiney down on the soft padding.
“Now Gavin,” Skye talked to me in a gentle way, explaining things to me so that I could understand them, “I think it’s time you know the whole truth about today.”
“Otay,” I lisped, quite by accident, but pleasing to the ears all the same, while she grabbed a bottle of baby powder and began dusting me with wonderful, cooling, aromatic talc. I shuddered; my skin had become so wonderfully sensitive that I could almost feel each gentle puff of baby powder tickle me as it was sprinkled on.
“I suspected you had this side of you from the moment we had that fight and you ended up crying in my arms.” Skye told me as she pulled the diaper up between my legs, shimmying the front around to get the perfect fit.
“I knew you had this side a little bit before Spring Break when I snuck onto your laptop and found all those diaper sites. You really gotta clear your history.” She taped the bottom row of tapes on my new diaper. “Though, I’ve got to admit,” she conceded as she taped up the top row on my new diaper, “the only reason I found those sites is because I was checking them, too. Imagine how relieved I was to find that you had already visited them.”
I blushed a bit. I had been found out by my own carelessness. Maybe I had wanted to be caught. Maybe that’s why I hadn’t noticed any of this sooner. I wanted, no, needed to be pushed over the edge into AByhood.
“You might be an infantilist, baby boy, but I’m a maternalist,” Skye explained as she shimmied the ends of my shortalls back into place. “Taking care of you, and loving on you, and you being my baby is gonna be the most fulfilling thing ever.”
“This is how it’s gonna be from now on, Gavi-poo,” Skye assured me as she popped the snaps to my shortalls closed again, covering my fresh diaper and making the fabric around my legs take on the semblance of pants again. “I’m Mommy, and you’re my baby, forever and ever. You wear the diapees, and I change them.”
“Every afternoon when I get home fwum school,” I promised, taking my thumb out of my mouth.
Skye sighed as she pulled me up into a sitting position.
“No,” she whispered. She seemed a little sad, like there was something she had to tell me, but didn’t want to.
“Oh honey,” she frowned, “my sweet, sweet, boy. You still don’t understand, do you?”
“I love you,” I confessed. “What else is there to understand?”
Skye sighed and walked over to a nearby trashcan. It was almost overflowing with used and balled up diapers. A lot of babies had been changed today.
“Take a close look at the diapers in this trash can.” she instructed, “now take a close look at the wet one balled up next to you.” I looked at the diaper I had been wearing only a few minutes ago, and then craned my neck to see the loaded trash can. They were about the same size. They were all adult baby diapers. All of them. Not a single regularly sized diaper in the bunch.
“What am I supposed to be looking for?” I asked her.
“Gavin, think, baby-kins,” Skye caressed the side of my face. “All of those diapers are adult diapers. Besides the people working here, how many adults wearing diapers did you see?”
None. Not a single one besides myself. Every other time I had seen those plastic backed diapers covered with cartoon animals, it had been wrapped around a child. I didn’t even need to tell Skye this. She read it on my face.
“And how many grown-ups have stared at you, even though you’ve been going pee-pee and poo-poo in your pants and have been walking around in just a t-shirt and diaper for most of the day?” Skye looked into my eyes, reading me as I recalled my own recent past.
Again, I realized, not one grown-up stared at me. Not even a comment; at least not one that could be considered appropriate to the situation.
“Mommy,” I pleaded, “Skye...what’s going on?” She seemed a little sad at me calling her Skye instead of Mommy.
“Honey, those special drinks we’ve been having all day,” she paused, “they’re magic, honey boy.”
I just stared. My jaw went slack; wide open. I literally couldn’t comprehend what my girlfriend had told me.
“Everyone besides me who looks at you, sees only a little boy. They think you’re a toddler, not even two. No one besides me can really understand what you’re saying. You’re not potty trained. You can barely feed yourself, have trouble running around, have oral fixations, and emotionally you’re more or less a kid. Gavi-poo…you’ve been regressed.”
“That’s...that’s” I stuttered, chuckling nervously, “that’s some pretty interesting stuff for role-play, Mommy.”
“It’s not role-play honey.” Skye gave me that same sad, smile. “It’s the truth.” she insisted. “The stuff I’ve been downing all day makes me stronger, and faster, so I can take care of you; and I’ve started making milk.”
“Yeah, right,” I huffed and moved to slide off the changing table onto my own two feet. With one hand Skye kept me from scooting forward.
“Skye,” I protested, on the verge of whining. “Quit it. This isn’t funny anymore.”
Skye reached into her purse and pulled out her phone. She looked at it and thumbed through a few things before turning it around showing me a picture. “Remember this picture from earlier today, after the pony ride? Kevin’s mom sent me a copy.”
There I was in the picture: Same pony ride in the background. Same wet diaper drooping on my hips. Still holding hands with someone, but now the someone was different. Instead of Kevin, the little black boy who moments after that picture was taken pooped his diaper shamelessly in front of us; I was pictured standing with a large black man with a trimmed goatee, smiling around his slobbery fingers. He was a full head taller than me and had that same twinkle in his eyes that the little boy had.
“Everyone sees you as a baby now, Gavi-poo. It doesn’t work on cameras, but that’s a minor inconvenience. You’re a big baby” Skye stated. “But you’re far from the only one.”
My mouth went dry. I’d never seen this guy before...but maybe I had. Skye wasn’t lying.
“You mean…” I gulped, “all those other babies were…?”
“Just like you?” Skye told me, smiling as soon as she heard me refer to them as “other” babies.
“More or less. I don’t think most of them were infantilists,” she clarified, “just men whose Mommies decided they needed to go back to basics. But yeah...they’ve all been going through the same thing you have today, convinced that they’re grown-ups surrounded by babies.”
“But...why?” I rasped out. My throat was dry. I was beyond tears. I had been betrayed. On some fundamental level, Skye had robbed me of some essential part of myself. She’d taken away my choice.
Skye shrugged, and made flirty goo-goo eyes at me. “I was just planning on going to an ageplay con or something with you; tell you it was a comic con or something until we got there, but then Kadija- you remember her- told me that the zoo was going to be doing this, and I knew it was fate.”
“So you’ve turned me into a baby?” I wanted to scream. I wanted to shout. I wanted to thrash. But I just couldn’t find the strength of purpose.
“Gavi-kins,” she replied and smiled again, as if I had said something silly. “You are a baby. I just brought it out of you, sweety. I made it real.”
“Too real…” I choked. “Too real. How long?”
I had no words. Not that it mattered. They had been stolen from me.
“No one will ever think you’ve aged in appearance,” she put her hand on her shoulders. “And we’re both going to be aging much slower, which is good. We’ll be able enjoy it a lot longer. Don’t worry about money, either. There are dancers in my line of work who can make close to a million dollars a year. And I’m going to have a much longer career now because of this.”
“But why?” I croaked. Why me? Why why why why me?
“Gavi-poo,” she cooed. “I chose you. I could have had any big dumb, alpha-male that I wanted. But I didn’t want them. I don’t want a big dumb jock.” She rubbed my hair and touched her forehead to mine. “I want you. I don’t want an equal to argue and fight with me. I want someone to take care of and love and nurture. I want you.”
“I don’t want to be a wife,” she whispered soothingly to me. “I don’t want to be a girlfriend. But I do want to be a Mommy. And I’m willing to spend the rest of my life taking care of you; feeding you, dressing you, changing your diapees; the works. I need this Gavi. I need you. You complete me.”
“But I don’t want to be a baby,” I moaned in despair.
“We both know that’s not true, sweety.” she kissed me on the forehead. “I’m your mommy. I know you better than you know yourself. And I know that this is what you need, too. I didn’t give you the choice because I know you would have made the wrong one, and backed out. You couldn’t handle the pressure of not having responsibility. So I made the choice for you, like a good mommy, and now you’ll never have to worry about those grown up things ever again.”
“But cowwege,” I insisted.
“You’re going to be dropping out, don’t worry about that anymore.” she held me close. “I’ve already maxed out your credit card to help pay for today, and your bank accounts and loans are going to be drained and used up paying for the first round of diapers, new clothes, and furniture that I’ve got set up out our place.”
“My life…” a single tear found its way onto my cheek.
“Is over and renewed,” Skye rubbed my back, as she picked me up again. “You’re with Mommy, now. Don’t worry about money that’s never going to have to be paid back. Gavin the college student doesn’t exist anymore. Just Mommy Skye and her wittle Gavi-poo. We’re gonna be fine.”
“Mommy…” I fought back a sob, “I’m scared.”
“Shhhhhh,” she rubbed my back some more. “It’s okay. Mommy’s got you. Mommy’s got you. Let’s go home.”
She carried me out of the changing area, hugging me as we walked. I didn’t sob. I didn’t bawl. My breath stayed even. But I did cry. I wept the silent, bitter tears of a man betrayed. It was one of the only dignities I had left to me. I held onto that dignity. I would not lose it so easily as I had lost my potty training. I refused to.
We were leaving the zoo. It was time to go home to my new life. Every time we passed another woman with a baby- another poor soul put under this curse- Skye would kiss my face. If she tasted my tears on her lips, she gave no indication. Like so many of these “Mommies”, she would write my misery as being “fussy” or “cranky”, and that a diaper change or a num nums or a nap would fix it soon enough. The worst part of it is, part of me still wanted her to be right.
Skye sidetracked near the entrance and stopped at a fenced off area near the front. Inside the chain linked fence were strollers. They weren’t the expensive kind that you saw soccer moms and joggers push their kids in, just the cheap one- all wheels and metal poles with some canvas stretched around to make a kind of seat hammock. It wasn’t the very model of child convenience, but it was simple enough to unfold, plop a baby in, and push, with a hook on the back to hang a diaper bag on.
Diaper bag: I shuddered a bit at that realization. Skye would likely be toting around a diaper bag from now on instead of the “gift bag” filled with goodies to regress me. I wouldn’t be sitting on the potty for the foreseeable future if Skye had her way.
Holy shit. I just now realized that the last time I sat on a potty was with pee stained pants around my ankles. My adulthood was lost with a whimper and the slightest bit of tinkles in a potty.
“Excuse me,” Skye approached a man by the fencing, “how much for a stroller to take home?” The guy wasn’t wearing a diaper. And why should he be? This late in the afternoon, there was probably no point in convincing regressed baby boys that they were big grown-ups and all the grown-up boys were wearing diapers too.
“Is that a real baby,” the man running the stroller rental area asked, “or…?”
“He’s my baby,” Skye told him confidently.
“Well in that case you should have a coupon for a free stroller in your gift bag.”
Without putting me down Skye rifled through the canvas bag. “Oh!” she exclaimed, “here it is!” She handed the man a ticket. Within two minutes, he was back pushing a big canvas stroller. It would fit me alright. I hoped it would at least be more comfortable than it looked. I’d be spending a lot of time in that thing, I figured, glumly. More quiet tears slid down my face.
“This is perfect!” Skye bounced me up and down like I was a fussy toddler. “I love it already.” I was lowered down into the seat smoothly, the material taking shape around me. My feet fit comfortably on two black foot rest pedals near the wheels. I noticed that they had straps for my feet on them, likely to stop big babies like me from slamming my feet down on the ground.
I didn’t bother to kick, or struggle. What was the point? I was screwed; the day’s events had proven that. I couldn’t even run ten steps without losing my balance. I couldn’t even take a dump outside of my pants. I wasn’t going to make it out there without Skye, so why struggle? These thoughts and more swirled in my head as Skye strapped me into my new prison transport.
She looked up as she finished buckling me in and saw me, really saw me, crying. For the first time that I could remember, she showed pause.
“Gavi-poo…?” she cooed. “What’s wrong sweety? Mommy will make it better, she promises.”
“Nothing’s wrong, Mommy,” I shook my head slowly, committing to the lie, unable to meet her gaze. “I just can’t stop crying. I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”
“Oh, Gavin. Honey.” She cooed, wiping my tears away with her finger tips. “Please don’t cry like that, baby. Please don’t cry.” She was cooing to me, but for the first time today, it wasn’t cooing to me like I was a child. She got down on one knee and looked at me, lifting my chin up so I would meet her gaze.
“Gavin. Please understand.” she begged, “I know you. I love you, but I know you. And I still know you. You haven’t changed, honey. The Baby Formula might have changed some things about you, given you some urges you didn’t really have before, and taken away a few skills here and there; but it didn’t change who you are fundamentally.”
“Think about that little boy who made fun of your diapers in the petting zoo, Chase” she prompted me.
“Chaz,” I whispered, still crying softly.
“Chaz,” she corrected herself. “You might not realize this, but we met him earlier today when we were in the ticket line.” I nodded meekly. I had already put that much together in the short time that all the truth was made available to me.
“He didn’t act like that because the magic was making him act like a little brat.” Skye whispered. “He was a little brat because that’s who he is, and the only difference between a brat and an asshole is age. It’s not okay to call a baby an asshole, so we call them bratty instead.”
“So what am I?” I asked, my eyes wet; Skye’s visage blurring into a mix of blonde, pink, and teal.
“You’re my Gavin,” I heard her voice crack through my tears. “You’re the nice, shy, boy who’s too afraid of what people think to take risks. You want to, but you just can’t make yourself go out there. You want to be happy, but you’re too wrapped up in your own hangups to get there by yourself.”
Now it was her turn to sob. She took my hands in hers and held them in her own. She used my fingers now, guided by her own slender digits to brush away her tears.
“If you were a song, you’d be Bob Seger’s Beautiful Loser: I cheated on you and you had every right to try and emotionally destroy me, but instead, you destroyed yourself. You’re the little boy in the big boy’s body that I fell head over heels for that night. You complete me. And I promise you this is the best way for both of us to be happy.”
I shook my head at her. Not fiercely. Not angrily. I just shook it.
“This isn’t what I wanted,” I squeaked, my own voice betraying how I felt. “It’s not normal. I wanted normal.”
“Normal’s overrated, Gavin,” her own voice gurgled a bit. “And think of everything that you’ll get to do. You’ll get to be loved, unconditionally. You’ll get to put yourself out there and take risks, and no one will think you’re anything but adorable. You could run around in just a diaper and no one would think it otherwise. You can breast feed and get changed in public and that’ll be okay, too.”
She sniffled a bit and went on. “You can laugh and cry and scream and be in complete touch with yourself, and no one will ever judge you for it. You can play as much as you want and not ever have to worry about money or a job or where your next meal is going to come from. You can experience the closest thing to complete freedom and complete security all at once. Mommy will always be there for you.”
“I know,” I nodded, my breath still even, my pulse still steady. My tears were beginning to stain my clothes. “But I can’t stop crying.”
“Gavin,” her voice gently pleaded, “is this because I didn’t tell you about it?” I made no reply. “Gavin, baby boy. We both know that if I had told you, you would have backed out...and you might not want to admit it, but you would have regretted that decision for the rest of your life.”
I had no reply to that. I wanted to say that she was right, but how would I know?
“Gavin. Please say something. Please stop crying.” she was on both knees now. “Please.”
“I can’t, Mommy. I’m sorry.”
“Gavin. Please don’t hate me for this.” Skye croaked. “I just want to be your Mommy.”
“I don’t hate you Mommy,” I told her. “I don’t think I could ever hate you.”
Then why are you still crying, baby?” she implored.
“Because…” I stopped, arriving at the truth; my truth. “I think...I think I hate myself.” And then I lost it. All the control I had slipped away. My breath became ragged and my body wracked with sobs.
Skye lunged forward and held me again, muffling my sobs in her bosom. It was the night of our first argument all over again. Only this time I felt like more of a man crying openly in public into my Mommy’s chest than I ever did screaming at my cheating girlfriend in the privacy of my own dorm room. This time, she cried with me. We both hurt.
It might have been half an hour that we sat there, holding each other; me in my stroller, and her on her knees. It might have only been a couple of minutes. How long it happened doesn’t matter. That it happened does.
I let her go, and then she let go of me. “You hate yourself?” she spoke first.
Then she smiled, her eyes still a little red. It wasn’t a sad smile. “Well we’re gonna have to work on that, won’t we?”
Again, I nodded, a weak smile graced my lips, unbidden.
“Let’s go home,” she finally decided, taking point behind me in my new stroller. We rolled out together, as one unit, Skye pushing me along to the exit. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad, I hoped.
Then, as we were entering the parking lot, I saw them: The madwoman with the giant fake tits; the one who had wanted to spank me. Cradled in her arms was a nearly bald, squalling infant wrapped in an ugly pea-green onesie, the leg gatherings of his diaper peeking out. If Chaz still had his frosted tips, I couldn’t see them anymore.
“Oh, looks like my big strong man made a big poopies in his little didee,” she beamed almost sadistically. She was massaging his backside with her hand, rubbing and mushing the stuff in his diaper, rubbing it up and caking it against him. Chaz, now magically younger than even me, was not happy.
“It’s too bad you had so many accidents, and now we’re out of fresh ones, my little poopmeister” she added. “I was planning on keeping you old enough to be potty trained, but I think I like you better this way.”
Two big, burly guys wearing zoo t-shirts carried out some large packages and slid them into what must have been the woman’s car.
“There’s all the diapers you wanted ma’am.” one of the big guys said to Chase’s new Mommy. “Is that enough?”
Chase’s Mommy looked back for a second. “For now,” she said dryly. Chase mewled something. “What? I’m not going to open up those huge boxes just so I can change you again. I’ll change you when we get home. Maybe tomorrow.” Chases hysterical cries were muffled by the sounds of a bottle being put to his lips and him being forced to suckle on it.
Yeah, it could definitely have been a lot worse.
We rolled up to Skye’s convertible, open and still untouched. Well, that’s not quite true. Something had been added in while we were away. A very large car seat was now installed in the back. From across the parking lot, the two men who had just put the diapers in that crazy lady’s car waved to Skye. She waved back at them and gave them a big thumbs up.
So that’s why she left the top down.
As she unbuckled me from my stroller and buckled me into my car seat, Skye squeezed the front of my diaper through the shortalls.
“Skye,” I gasped. “Private!”
“Oh Gavi-kins,” she grinned, “we are so totally going to have to desensitize you to this sort of thing. Besides, I was just checking your diapee. All dry,” she winked, “for now.”
That was almost a year ago. I’ve been stuck like this ever since. I still have mixed emotions about the whole thing. Sometimes it’s great and I can allow myself to get lost in Mommy’s embrace and cuddles and play with her. I’ve had my ass wiped on a public park bench and the closet exhibitionist in me loved every moment of it. Nobody’s the wiser.
I’m living the dream. I’m a baby and that’s okay. I have a Mommy who loves me and lives for me and will never abandon or leave me. I can do no wrong in her eyes and she can do no wrong in mine. Those are the good days.
Other times, in the quiet, still times, when I’m just thinking to myself and looking around my nursery full of toys and diapers and furniture sized just for me; I stare down at my padded crotch and I think “What the hell happened to me? Why am I like this? Why do I like this?! What’s wrong with me?! I’m a fucking adult!” And I’m not always talking about the spell, either. On those days, and sometimes they do last days, Skye just rocks me and holds me while I cry to myself, and let’s me know it’s okay to cry.
She doesn’t know, but I’ve been writing this down over the last couple of nights, trying to remember what happened, how I felt, and what led me down this path. Maybe get some clarity.
Her friend Kadija comes to babysit me with her little boy on the nights that Skye goes to work. She can’t understand me like Skye can, but she’s just as strong, and she’s nice enough. Changes my diapers, gives me a bottle if I show her I’m thirsty.
I might not have much in the way of dexterity anymore, but Skye’s computer has a talk to text option, and the magic that makes people hear my voice as baby babble doesn’t work on something without a brain. Skye works late and Kadija and her baby sleep over, so I get to be naughty sometimes and write down what I remember on her computer.
When I first started writing this, I didn’t know who would be reading it, and I still don’t. But I said some things: I’m not an Adult Baby, or a Diaper Lover, or Ageplayer, or AB/DL, or Little, or whatever you wanna call someone who...who likes wearing diapers and pretending to be a baby.
That wasn’t a lie. Not really. Those people, for better or worse get to be adults some of the time. I, for better or worse, don’t. I don’t know if I can say I truly hate myself and who I am, but I can’t say I’m completely comfortable with my situation either. It is what it is, and that will have to be enough.
It was still the worst day of my life. No major change is pleasant. And I did lose my girlfriend. I just gained something else in return.
I tried hiding who I was for a long time. But a trip to the zoo last year made it impossible for me to do anything about that. I can’t change who I am, and that’s a fact I’ve got to learn to live with. Leopards can’t change their spots, and neither can I.