Stressed? Don't be...
Chapter Description: Stressed? Don't be... (Edited May 26, 2021 for grammar and punctuation)
“Who’s my little man then?” Asked Vivian as she nuzzled Bob’s baby body. “Who is it? It’s you, yes it is, yes it is!” Bob wasn’t feeling in a particularly warm mood from all the attention. “Vivian, you’ve gotta stop this, please! Give me the antidote!” But Vivian just kept cooing and “buba booing” him. Seeing that Bob was being a grumpy pants, she resorted to raspberries on his cute little tummy. “Pbrrrrt! Pbrrrt! Pbrrrt!” came the sound as she tickled Bob’s belly with her lips. Bob couldn’t help himself, baby chuckles led to baby guffaws as she continued to tickle him. “Ah, baba boo! Ah, baba boo! Yes, that’s my little man! Yes, it is, yes it is!” Bob laughed so hard, he started to pee himself, the warm flooding of his nethers into the diaper he wore was followed by a very noisy “Phrrrraaaaap!” as his bowels let loose. Vivian then declared her “little man” a stinky baby and changed his diaper, cleaning and powdering his little tushie in the process.
Bob wasn’t too happy with his situation, he came home stressed and very tired after a long day at the plant. Vivian suggested that to relax and let the tensions flow away, he get in touch with his baby side and gave him a drink which he chugged and then nearly spit out as the taste was more bitter than he liked. A warm feeling then enveloped his body. Passing out, he didn’t even remember hitting the kitchen floor. When he awoke, it was in a crib that to Bob’s view was enormous! “Vivian! Vivian! Where are you? What’s going on? Why does everything seem so big?” Vivian then appeared with her now appearing giant-like body over the crib rails and picked up Bob with one hand under his neck and the other under his butt with total ease.
Vivian then took Bob over to the changing table and pulled off the onesie that she put on Bob the night before and proceeded to change Bob’s diaper which was soaked. “What, no poopies for mommy?” She asked in a half-joking manner. “Vivian! What’s happened to me?” asked Bob (although with his new body size his question came out more as “Wibiam! W’as hapn’d do me?”). Vivian just ignored him and put him in a cute little bunny suit that felt soft and thick to Bob’s newly sensitized skin. “Now then baby, let’s get some brekkies into you and see if you can’t give mommy the poopies! Yes, you will! Oh, yes you will!” She then gave him a little belly tickle and took him into the kitchen.
Bob, strapped into a high chair, was not happy and not having any bit of the offered gruel sitting in the spoon proffered by Vivian. He sat with his arms crossed and a little pout on his chubby face and no amount of coaxing by Vivian would he allow that slop to go into his mouth. His belly grumbled, betraying his mood. Vivian then put the gruel aside and proclaimed “Looks like my little man is spoiled and wants a different kind of num-nums!” So saying, she unbuttoned her blouse and revealed her swollen breasts restrained by a nursing bra. She unbuttoned the snaps and a pair of very tasty-looking aureoles popped out and invited Bob to suck on their lusciousness.
Bob was flabbergasted, his entire body demanded that he partake of the presented feast and before he could so much as weakly protest, found himself unstrapped, taken gently into welcoming arms with his head cradled as the perky nip of Vivian’s left breast closed in and he wrapped his pouty baby lips around it. As he began to suckle, he noticed that the taste was slightly bitter…
He awoke in the crib again. This time it seemed even bigger. He tried to roll over and found that it was very hard to do and failed, falling on his backside. He was paralyzed! He was wet! He was sad and he started to cry. Big wracking sobs escaped his lips as he began to bawl in earnest, his arms and legs began to make quick, jerky motions as he got more and more frustrated. Vivian’s face appeared over the top of the crib, most of her features were blurry, but he could make out her eyes, and seeing them caused him to calm down a bit, but this was his tantrum and he wasn’t going to give it up that easy! He whimpered and started to cry again.
Vivian picked up the newborn Bob and cradled him in her arms. “looks like my little man needs a diaper change with some Mother and baby feeding time!” She said jovially. This just made Bob more pissed as he began to suck in a deep breath to better aid him in his next squawl. Vivian just ignored it, making cooing sounds, she changed her baby’s tiny diaper and put him to her breast. Bob suckled on it hungrily; this one act filled his being as he took in the sweet, sweet milk and swallowed it. After a few minutes, Vivian gently put her finger to his lips and broke the seal, switched him to the other boob and he attached himself to it with greedy fervor. Vivian’s endorphins were flowing full tilt at that time and she felt great pleasure and satisfaction as her “little man” engorged himself on her milk-laden breasts.
Bob, satiated at last, began to get drowsy and lay in Vivian’s arms. He tried to communicate but all that came out from his toothless mouth was a babbling sound. He fell into a blissful sleep as Vivian looked onto her little bundle and smiled in the warm afterglow.
The alarm clock rang bringing Bob to consciousness from a warm and happy place. He experienced hazy dream wisps of being an infant, a baby, toddler, little boy, pubescence, zits, and his “first time”. He felt relaxed, calm, and focused! Ready to face the day and kick ass in the office at the plant. This was a day to be taken and render unto his own will. He looked over to Vivian, sweet Vivian, saw that she was resting peacefully with a satisfied grin, and wondered what had happened to the weekend. All that day at work in the back of his mind a niggling thought kept surfacing. He couldn’t quite get his mind wrapped around what it was about, but he finally put it off til later when he could analyze it at a more opportune time.
The week flew by and Bob was on top at the office, lining himself up for a promotion. He came home and found…
Vivian as a toddler, wearing a badly affixed diaper, the tabs splayed over its landing zone, one side drooped with the other barely holding up the whole affair. “Hewwo, dada!” said a chirpy Vivian, with her cute babyish face smiling and showing simply darling little dimples, “It’s yew tuwn!” She exclaimed. “My turn?” Said Bob aloud finally grasping what that niggling thought was attempting to tell him. He happily picked up little toddler Vivian and said “Who’s daddy’s little girl? It’s you! Yes, it is…”
And so began another tale.