8 - Treats and Tricks...
"Now, Mommy has a special treat for her little princess," Ma-ma said, as she turned into the entrance of another store. Releasing Kelly's hand, Ma-ma lifted me from the carrier, and turned me to face into the store, "Ta-da! It's the Baby Store! We're going to have great fun shopping for a whole new look for your nursery. I want something much more frilly, and girly for my little princess. We need to get you a nice sturdy walker, too. I gave Kelly's to a girlfriend ages ago, since I wasn't expecting to have another baby. And, since it seems that you won't be walking on your own anytime soon, we need a baby walker that will really last. Let's see what they have."
A middle-aged woman with curly auburn hair came to help as Ma-ma was examining the baby walkers. She gestured at the pastel plastic walker Ma-ma was examining, "In the case of walkers, it's really best to buy the best. That's all high-impact plastic, and ergonomically designed to encourage the development of baby's leg muscles. And, unlike some of our competitors, we won't charge you extra to assemble it."
"I guess I should have shopped for that baby carriage here, girls," Ma-ma said, placing the walker on the floor of the aisle. She lowered me into it, tucking the folds of my baby dress in around me. Giving the walker a push. Ma-ma said, "Go ahead, Roxie. Let's see you walk."
I didn't want to perform baby antics for her, but it seemed Ma-ma's wish was my command. I pumped my plump little legs, and pushed along the slick floor with the toes of my white baby shoes.
In three steps, Ma-ma crossed the distance I'd manged to cover in several seconds of pumping my weak little legs, and plucked me from the walker, "All right. I guess we've found you a walker. Now, Kelly and I want to pick a new decorating theme for Roxie's nursery. It's been the same since Kelly was little, and we want something completely different. What do you have that's really feminine? Our little Roxie is such a little princess, she just has to have the frilliest styles."
"Of course, Ma'am," The woman replied, "We have an extensive selection of linens, curtains, and other items over here. We also have quite a wide assortment of coordinated decorating packages, you might want to check. The packages include three sets of crib linens, a comforter, a crib skirt, a crib bumper, two sets of curtains, and a ten-piece set of appliques, and decorative borders. You can always get more linens and curtains in the same pattern if you need them."
Ma-ma examined the selection of decorating packages, and chose one that featured bunnies dressed in Victorian costumes, and lots of flowers. The curtains, crib skirt, and comforter were all edged with eyelet ruffles. The costumes of the female bunny characters were all elaborately feminine, with creamy whites and pastel pinks as the dominant colors. Ma-ma grinned as she showed these items to Kelly (and me, of course), "Look how pretty, Kelly. This will be so cute in our little Roxie's room."
"Woxie wikes da bunnies, too, Mommy?" Kelly asked, looking at me, "You wike da bunnies, Woxie?"
"Bagoo gaba da doo," I said, and a string of drool ran onto my drool bib. However, I might really feel, I could only babble in happy tones.
"I think that's a 'yes', Kelly. We'll take this package, and add two more sets of linen to it, please," Ma-ma said, rising to her full height again, and leaving me staring down at the distant floor below, "Now, can we see what you have for nursery monitors? With another one starting to move around, I think we need something better than the crib monitor we have now."
"We have a state-of-the-art closed-circuit television system that comes with two cameras," the woman said, smiling at Ma-ma broadly, "If you'd like to see them in action, I have two of them set up to allow me to monitor the children and employees in our daycare center."
"You also run the daycare center next door?" Ma-ma asked, following the woman to the rear of the store.
"That's right. It's a natural complement to my store. I get the furnishings at wholesale, of course, and it allows me to test a variety of products directly," she said, directing us into a small office. Three television monitors displayed different areas of the daycare center in the unit beside the store, "I require all my sales staff to become certified as infant-care providers by the state, and that allows me to shift staff from the store to the daycare, or back, if I need more help. Most of the stores in the mall subsidize a few slots for their employees, which is a great fringe benefit. Of course, most of our business is hourly care for the children of shoppers. I'm Sheila Collins, by the way."
"Marcia Dulong," Ma-ma said, extending her hand, "And, this is Kelly and Roxie. This monitor system looks perfect. Can we add another monitor in a second room, so I don't have to be in the kitchen to check on them?"
" Certainly. There's a twenty per cent discount for each monitor you want added to the system, and our price covers installation, as well," Sheila Collins replied, taking up a clipboard, "I can schedule your installation before the weekend, if you'll be home either Thursday or Friday morning?"
"Thursday would be fine," Ma-ma agreed, nodding, "Now, I'd like to see what you have in stock for bassinettes. Little Roxie still has restless nights, and I'd like someplace she could be put to sleep in our bedroom."
Ma-ma examined a bassinette that appeared to be a bubble of lace. The bassinette had a half-canopy which covered the upper portion, and a lacey drape which could be lowered to cover the rest. A ruffled skirt in the same delicate lace as the drape decorated the lower portion of the bassinette's basket. Ma-ma lifted the drape, and lowered me into the bassinette. Though the bassinette was small, it was more than large enough for me. Only by spreading my tiny legs as wide as possible, could I touch the sides of the basket. With the drape lowered again, it was like being inside an egg made of lace fabric. I squirmed, trying to sit, and felt my bowels move.
"This is just what I had in mind," Ma-ma said, lifting the drape, and taking me from the bassinette. She wrinkled her nose as she lifted me, "Uh oh, smells like we have a stinky princess. Sheila, is there a changing station I can use for her?"
"Of course, Marcia, but why don't you relax, and let me have one of the girls do that for you?" Sheila said. She gestured, and a young brunette came quickly, "Lisa, would you take Roxanne and change her for Ms. Dulong, please?"
"Certainly, Ms. Collins," Lisa replied, taking me from Ma-ma, "Ms. Dulong, would you prefer I diaper Roxanne with cloth, or disposables?"
"Disposables are so much easier to use when we're not at home," Ma-ma said, "You can put her in another disposable, if you would, Lisa. Thank you so much."
"It's our pleasure, Ms. Dulong," Lisa responded sweetly, "I'll have her back dry, clean, and sweet-smelling in just a few minutes."
Ma-ma and Sheila Collins began talking again, as Lisa carried me into the daycare unit, but I couldn't hear what they were saying. I heard Ma-ma's lilting laugh, and then we were enveloped by the noise of the daycare. Babies, toddlers and small children yelled, laughed, cried, and screamed from almost every direction.
Lisa placed me on one of several changing tables at the rear of the daycare, and swiftly removed my dipee cover. Releasing the tapes on each side of my dipee, Lisa's hand clasped both my tiny ankles to lift me, and used the front to clean most of the mess from my bottom. Seeing the pink slit between my plump thighs again, I found myself visualizing my entire tiny baby female body in the most vivid detail. This was a conditioned response, I realized. Making me visualize myself as a baby girl whenever my dipees were changed would continually reinforce my perception of myself as the baby girl I had become.
The sweet vanilla scent of baby powder seemed to trigger another conditioned response. Waving my arms, and kicking my feet in the air, I began to coo and babble happily at Lisa. Though I was humiliated to have my dipee changed by a teenager, I still felt compelled to make happy, contented baby noises for her, "Ah geee ba oob ba ung ga dee fee fee boo dab haa ba moop hoo eee ah wee."
"Aren't you just a little sweetie," Lisa cooed down at me, and tickled my sides lightly until I squealed with laughter. She lifted me into her arms again, and carried me back into the baby store. As she approached Sheila Collins and Ma-ma, Lisa said, "Here she is, Ms. Dulong. She sure is a sweet, happy baby."
"Actually, Lisa, you can take her and Kelly back to the daycare area," Sheila said, rising, "Ms. Dulong has decided to treat herself to a new hairstyle at Madame Frank's. We'll be watching Roxie and Kelly for her until she's ready."
"Oh, all right then," Lisa responded, extending her free hand, "Kelly, would you like to come meet some fun kids, and play with all of our great toys?"
Lisa took Kelly's hand, and we were quickly back in the noisy bedlam of the daycare area. Releasing Kelly, Lisa said, "The toy boxes are right over there, honey. You can play here with the other big kids, and I'll take Roxie with me to the baby area."
"Woxie has to goes dere 'cause Woxie is a baby," Kelly said, grinning up at me, as Lisa held me facing forward, "Woxie usta beed my Daddy, buts we gots a new Daddy, and he made Woxie be a baby girl."
"Well, she's a baby girl, all right, but I don't think Roxie is old enough to be a Daddy," Lisa said, smiling at Kelly, "Besides, only men can be daddies. Girls can't be daddies, you know."
"I knows dat," Kelly said, exasperated by Lisa's denseness. She sniffed, "Woxie is a baby girl nows. Dat's why she's nots a daddy no mores."
"All right, honey, if you say so," Lisa replied, humoring her, "Roxie is a baby, and not your Daddy."
"Dat's wight," Kelly agreed, nodding as if Lisa finally understood the simple and obvious truth. She smiled at me, and waved, "Bye-bye, Woxie."
"Bye-bye," I chirped, waving my hand at Kelly, as Lisa carried me to the infant area of the daycare unit.
I wanted to cry, of course. Even if Kelly told people that I used to be a man and her Daddy, no one was ever going to suspect it was the plain truth. Little girls often said strange and silly things, and anyone hearing her would just dismiss the remarks as confusion, or imagination run wild.
And, she was only four years old. How many things did I recall from age four? How long until Kelly forgot that I'd ever been her Daddy? All those years of telling myself I'd make more time for Kelly later were coming back to bite me in the ass now, I realized sadly. She'd barely known me as her father, and I'd never hidden my disappointment that she was a girl, and not the son I wanted. Small wonder she had so little attachment to me that she would happily accept my magical transformation into her baby sister.
Lisa lowered me into a net-sided playpen that already held two other babies. Both of them appeared to be girls, one about my size and (apparent) age. She had pale auburn hair in wispy curls, and wore a pink and white dress and panty set similar to my own humiliating outfit. The second was a blonde, and seemed to be several months older. At least, she was several inches taller, and capable of crossing the playpen without gripping anything for support. Blondie wore a pair of denim shortalls over a pale yellow knit shirt.
Blondie looked back after crossing the playpen's mine-field of scattered toys. She grinned as Lisa lowered me into the playpen, and began toddling in my direction, as soon as Lisa was gone. Nearing me, she stopped, and gripped the net side to steady herself. I was caught completely off-guard as she slapped the side of my head with her free hand.
I was more shocked than hurt, but my response was the same as any other baby's would have been. I screamed and wailed for attention in the loudest tones I could manage. Lisa and another daycare attendant came running to the playpen. Lisa lifted me into her arms, and held me against her shoulder as she patted my back tenderly, "It's all right, sweetie. I won't let her hit you again. Anna, would you move Britney to another playpen? Put her with the toddlers, and let her be the smallest one for a while. She's such a little bully."
When I calmed enough to stop sobbing and whimpering, Lisa again placed me in the playpen, "Here you go, Roxie. Cassie is a nice girl, just like you. You two should get along just fine."
Cassie looked at me as I was lowered into the playpen near her, and then quickly looked away. It took several minutes before she shyly looked in my direction again. I returned the quick, shy glance, and just as quickly looked at my feet, when Cassie lowered her own eyes. Cassie shifted, and raised one side of her bottom awkwardly to almost fall over as she got onto her hands and knees. Like a time-delayed mirror-image, I copied Cassie's awkward movements exactly as I began to crawl after her. She reached a set of plastic blocks, and clumsily twisted around to sit before me. I mimicked her actions, carefully moving with the same clumsy awkwardness in Cassie's motions. I could not resist the compulsion to copy her movements. Once I had copied Cassie moving, it became the only way I could make that movement, as well.
She began to babble baby sounds at me, and I immediately felt the same overwhelming compulsion to mimic her as closely as possible. As with her movements, once I'd heard Cassie pronounce a sound, it became the only way for me to make that sound. I grinned and giggled a half-moment behind her, unable to resist feeling and showing the same infantile glee at our exchange that Cassie demonstrated.
As I felt helplessly compelled to mimic Cassie's behavior and infantile vocalizations, I knew this compulsion had to be a part of the hypnotic conditioning Da-da had imposed on me. I was forced to carefully watch each movement, or to listen closely to each sound, and then to practice it until it became mine. Cassie was unknowingly instructing me how to act and speak like a real baby. Although I understood what was happening to me, I was unable to resist absorbing each lesson and practicing it intently.
Cassie began playing with a set of blocks, stacking them two or three high, before pushing them over and giggling. As I copied her actions, it occurred to me that I might be able to spell a message to Lisa, or another adult, using the blocks. Turning the blocks clumsily in my hand, I soon found that I did not recognize any of the symbols on them. Although I knew what letters and numbers were, I no longer seemed to know what the letters or numerals represented. I couldn't spell a simple word, much less any messages.
Lisa returned to take Cassie and me from our playpen, and carry us to the daycare's feeding area. Lisa placed Cassie in a highchair first, and then returned to get me. After fastening the chair's harness securely over me, Lisa lowered the tray into place, and placed a sectioned dish of strained baby foods on the tray. The first thing she fed me was a vegetable-and-turky mixed dinner. It had a very strong aroma of vegetable soup, and I thought I would gag on the first spoonful. But, Lisa shoveled it into my mouth, and I swallowed as quickly as I could. The mixture had a grainy texture on my sensitive tongue, which left a nasty coating. The strained peas were just as mealy, and even worse to taste.
Lisa alternated between feeding me, and feeding Cassie in the highchair beside mine. Just as I had in the playpen, I felt compelled to study my baby mentor's behavior and adopt it as my own. So, even though I found the vegetable-and-turky mixture to be revolting, the fact that Cassie seemed to love the stuff meant that I had to act as if I did, as well. Watching Cassie, I learned the "proper" baby technique to push my tongue forward, and dribble gobs of the strained food down my chin and onto my big bib. Cassie also like to dip her hands into gobs of the spilled food and smear them over the tray and herself liberally. We were both covered with baby food by the time Lisa finished feeding us.
After cleaning the mess of our lunch from our hands, faces, and hair, Lisa placed each of us into a crib. Placing me on my back, she arranged a bottle holder beside me, and pressed the nipple to my lips. The warm formula filled my mouth quickly as I nursed, and I soon fell into the rythm of suckling and swallowing. The now-familiar taste of infant formula soothed and relaxed me as I nursed at the thick nipple.
I must have fallen asleep soon after finishing the nurser of formula, since I awakened in the crib to find I was wearing a very wet and messy dipee. Much as it humiliated me to have to cry like any other baby to have my dipee changed, it was the only way I was going to get a dry dipee. Lisa soon appeared to lower the side of the crib, and carry me to a changing table.
I was so relieved to have my messy dipee changed that my happy cooing and baby babbling was pretty much genuine. Though I was compelled to act that way, I was also truly happy to be in a clean, dry dipee. I continued to babble and coo while Lisa finished dressing me. She carried me to the pre-school play area, and called to Kelly to join us, "C'mon, Kelly. Your Mommy is here, and it's time for you to go now."
"Mommy, you gots you hairs cut," Kelly observed, giggling, "You look pwetty, Mommy."
"Thank you, sweetie," Ma-ma replied, brushing her short "pixie" hairstyle, "Did you and Roxie have a good time playing?"
"Uh huh," Kelly replied nodding, "Woxie hads to takes a nap, 'cause she's a wittle baby. I didn't hafta naps, 'cause I'm a big girl."
"That's right, sweetie," Ma-ma agreed, and winked at me, "You're Mommy's big girl. And, Roxie is Mommy's little baby girl."
Ma-ma led Kelly, and carried me back into the mall, "We have one more stop before we can go home, girls. We need to get more baby formula and baby food for our baby girl, Roxie. Little babies, like Roxie, don't have any teeth, so she has to eat special baby foods."
Once again, I was placed in the infant seat of a shopping cart, as we entered the grocery store at one end of the mall. Secured by the harness, I had to ride facing Ma-ma. Mama snickered softly at me as I was forced to endure her whispered teasing, while she selected a wide assortment of strained baby food jars, several varieties of baby cereal, and a case of infant formula. We spent a few more minutes getting other groceries, then headed for the check-out lines.
Waiting in line to have our groceries tallied and bagged, I had to endure the fawning attentions of several more women. First an elderly old bird chirped over me, then the middle aged woman behind us in line had to make baby talk with me, and finally, the young woman bagging the groceries cooed down at me. All of them had to tell Ma-ma how precious, adorable, or just plain cute they thought I was. It was humiliating enough to be fawned over, but it was worse when I found myself happily cooing at them, and acting like I was enjoying all the attention.
9 - Da-da Does Dipees
Ma-ma deposited me in the playpen in my nursery, while Kelly helped her put away away the groceries in the kitchen. I soon found that I could no longer sit quietly wallowing in my misery, even when Ma-ma was absent. I began to play with the ring set, mouthing them, and giggling at the feeling on my smooth gums. Cassie had taught me how to act like a normal nine-month-old, and I found myself compelled to continue acting in the same manner. I babbled happily, blew spit bubbles, and drooled all over myself while I gummed the soft plastic rings.
Ma-ma entered the nursery, carrying the bags of baby items she'd brought home from the baby store. Kelly trailed along behind her, struggling with a single bag, and dragging it over the floor. Ma-ma and Kelly emptied the bags, and removed all the wrappings and tags before putting my new baby clothes and other items away.
While Ma-ma removed the linens and curtains, and replaced them with the feminine, matched sets she had bought, I sucked my thumb. The changes made me feel suddenly anxious, and sucking my thumb eased that anxiety. As I relaxed, I felt my bladder empty, and my dipee become wet and warm.
The act of wetting my dipee made me feel even more relaxed, and suddenly I felt very happy with myself. I had made wetties in my dipees like a good baby. I knew with absolute certainty that I really wanted to be a good baby. Bad babies would get a visit from The Strangler, and the very idea of such a visit was enough to make me quiver with fear. Yes, I knew that the idea, and the fear, had both been implanted in me by Da-da, but that did not make either less real to me.
10 - Imagine Doing That for Me...
The following evening, soon after Ma-ma had finished feeding Kelly and me, there was a soft knocking at the rear door. Ma-ma opened the door, and invited Karen inside, "It's so nice of you to do this, Karen. Have a seat. Would you like a cup of coffee? It's fresh."
"Thanks, but no. It just keeps me awake if I drink it after noon," Karen said, slipping into one of the kitchen chairs, "Besides, it would ruin the surprise Mark and I prepared for Roxie."
"Well, there's ice tea, or soda, if you want something to drink," Ma-ma said, removing the tray from my highchair, "Excuse me for a few minutes. I want to give the girls their baths, and get them ready for bed."
"Why don't you let me do that, Marcia?" Karen volunteered, "I came a little early, because I thought you could use a little help with them if you're going to get yourself ready for this evening."
"That's very kind of you, Karen, but you don't have to do that," Ma-ma replied.
"I know, but you know how much I like playing 'Mommy', Marcia," Karen said, smiling, "Why don't you let me give the girls their baths, and get them ready for bed? That way, you won't have to be rushing around trying to get ready when Mark finally gets here. He was still doing case notes when I left the office."
"Well, I guess I can't refuse an offer like that twice," Ma-ma said, passing me to Karen, "I should warn you, though. I think Roxie has a nasty little present for you in her diaper."
"More practice for me as a mommy, then," Karen responded, grinning as she took me into her arms, "C'mon, little stinky panties, let's get that messy bottom clean, and then Auntie Karen will give you a nice warm bath. You too, Kelly. You can help me give Roxie her bath."
The mess in the rear of my dipee was uncomfortable, and I began to squirm and whimper from the irritation. Karen carried me back to my nursery, with Kelly following closely.
I began to babble happily again, as soon as Karen had removed the messy diaper, and cleaned the rest of the mess from my bottom. I felt totally humiliated, having my diaper changed by this young woman who knew that I was really a man. It was bad enough to be treated as a baby girl by everyone, but it seemed somehow to feel much worse when I knew that person was aware that I was really a man. Despite my feelings, however, I continued to behave like a normal, happy baby. I was completely unable to act any other way than a normal baby could.
Karen carried me into the bathroom. She held me easily cradled in one arm, while she filled the small bath basin on the vanity counter. The plastic basin was no larger than a kitchem sink, but it was more than large enough for me to use as a bathtub.
She tested the water temperature with her elbow, before lowering me into the warm water, "Wouldn't want little Roxie's sensitive baby skin to get scalded, would we? Kelly, would you get me a washcloth, so we can wash Roxie all over?"
"I gots it," Kelly announced happily, finding the pile of washcloths, and pulling one from the top. She hurried over to hand the cloth to Karen.
"Here. You sit there," Karen said, lifting Kelly to sit on the vanity counter, "Now you can help me wash Roxie. You can start with washing her face. Babies always have a dirty face, even when you can't see any dirt. That's because little babies like Roxie can't help drooling on themselves."
"Be careful now, Kelly. Roxie is just a weak little baby, and you could hurt her if you're too rough. She's not a big, strong girl like you, " Karen cautioned Kelly, grinning down at me, and winking. Karen chuckled softly, "Better let Auntie Karen finish now, sweetie. Auntie needs to be sure that Roxie's nonnie, and her bottom get very, very clean."
I squirmed helplessly in Karen's one-handed grip, as she used the cloth in her other hand to thoroughly scrub the tender flesh of my slit, and the crack between my cheeks.
Karen turned the faucets to start the bathtub filling, "C'mon, Kelly, you can take your bath in the big tub like a big girl, while Auntie gets Roxie dressed for bedtime. Can you take off your clothes for me, and put them in the clothes hamper?"
Karen lifted me from the basin, and wrapped me in a thick terry-cloth towel, "That's right, sweetie. Put all your clothes inside the hamper. Let's see if your bath water is too warm. No, it's just about right. That should be enough water for a big girl to wash."
Karen held one of Kelly's hands to help her climb into the bathtub, and eased her to a seated position, "Here's a fresh washcloth for you, Kelly. You wash your face and hands, and I'll be right here if you need me."
Karen drew the small step-stool beside the tub, and sat on it, while holding me wrapped in the thick towel. Placing me on my back on the bathmat, she leaned toward the tub, and gently used one hand to wash Kelly's face, and body. Standing and moving the stool, Karen said, "OK, sweetie. I think that's clean enough for a quick bath. Let's get you dry, and dressed for bed. Then, you can help Auntie Karen get Roxie ready for bed, too."
Karen left me on the floor, lying on the mat, while she used a second towel to dry Kelly. It was humiliating to look up, and see the face of my toddler daughter looming above me.
Moments later, back in my nursery, I lay on my back atop the changing table while Karen performed the diapering ritual. Though I tried to resist, I was compelled to giggle and gurgle happily at each stage of the familiar process. When I was finally snugly encased in two thick cloth diapers, and my plastic panties, I released a delighted burbling of infantile babble. I was equally pleased to be dressed in a ruffled pink nightgown, and continued to demonstrate what a happy baby I was by my gleeful babbling.
Karen placed me against the pillows of Kelly's toddler bed - it seemed immensely larger than my baby crib. I found my thumb quickly, and began sucking it while Karen helped Kelly finish getting ready for bed. Karen patted Kelly bottom lightly, "Since you were such a big help, and you're getting to be such a big girl, I'm going to let you stay up late tonight, sweetie. Let's go see what's on the television for you to watch."
In the family room, Karen sat in a rocking chair beside the couch where Kelly sprawled to watch "Spongebob Squarepants". Karen shifted me on her lap, and began to unfasten the buttons of her blouse. As she pushed aside her blouse, and released the cup of her brassiere, the huge globe of her breast spilled free before me. I could smell the sweet scent of her milk, and as I stared at her nipple, small drops began to form on it. I needed no encouragement to take the thick nipple into my toothless mouth. I suckled at the nipple eagerly, feeling a rush of intense satisfaction with every mouthful of milk I swallowed.
Ma-ma and Da-da enter the room while I was still suckling at Karen's breast. Ma-ma's huge hand ruffled the silky hair on my head, and she said, "I know that you always wanted to suck Karen's titties. I'm just so glad I could arrange for that to happen for you in this special way, Babykins."
"We won't be too late, Karen," Ma-ma says, "Enjoy playing Mommy for the girls as long as you like. This one will be a perfect little baby for you."
"I know, Mark told me how he programmed her to imitate other babies her age. I certainly understand how effective that programming is, Marcia, after all Mark did for me with it, " Karen reached down to pry my mouth from her nipple, and shifted me to the other side before releasing the cup on the other side. Leaning closer to look into my eyes she chuckled, "You'd never guess that I used to be a fat, acne-ridden boy looking at me now, would you, Roxie. Hmm? Well, considering what you used to be, I guess you might believe it at that."
"It was Mark's magical African potion that allowed me to become the perfect specimen that was my new self-image. It was Mark's therapy that let me become the girl I'd always dreamed of being. Naturally, I feel completely indebted to Mark. I'll do almost anything for him. Ironically it's just a bonus that I also happen to feel you really deserved everything Mark and Marcia have done to you. Maybe being a baby girl for a few years will teach you to have a little empathy for others, and some respect for their feelings."
"As you've obviously noticed, I had Mark fine-tune my self-image to help with my babysitting duties. I just know you're going to love nursing on Mommy Karen's titties. You used to spend so much time sneaking peaks at them while you waited in our reception room," Karen said, replacing the cup of her nursing bra.
As I finish, she slid her finger between my lips, and ran it over my upper gum, frowning as she felt around.
"I thought I felt something hard while you were nursing," Karen said, nodding. She smiled down at me, "You must be getting your first baby teeth. Mommy Karen better get you a teething ring to take to bed tonight. Poor baby, I can just imagine going through all that teething pain again."
She raised me then, positioning me on the diaper spread over her shoulder, and began to pat my back gently. I squirmed with discomfort at the bloated feeling of the gas bubble in my tummy, until suddenly I belched, and spewed a small amount of curdled milk over the diaper. Karen chuckled as she wiped my chin, and shifted me back to sitting in her huge lap.
Though she used the moment to tease me about having baby teeth again, and all the pain of teething, I understand that it means something far more important. If I am growing teeth, then I am growing up. I resolve to give no sign of my realization. With the rocking motion of the chair, I fall asleep believing there is hope for me now that one day I might escape this suffocating infancy.
In the morning, after Da-da has finished his coffee, he lifts the silver chain with the dipee pin from his pocket. I am sitting in my highchair, and the moment Da-da holds the pin before me, I fall into a deep trance.
I returned to awareness with Ma-ma washing my face, and smiling at my confusion, "Silly goose, naturally your Ma-ma and Da-da considered the possibility that you might begin growing older again. Just because Da-da had never tried to use the potion to make someone young before, doesn't mean we hadn't thought about the possibilities. Once it appeared that it really did work just as well in making you younger, then the answer was obvious. It was a simple matter for Da-da to put you back in the trance state, and to make you recall being an even younger and smaller baby again. I'd estimate you've lost at least another month of age. You probably won't be able to manage to stand even with something to hold when you try. If you don't want to learn what being a four-month-old is like, then from now on, you'd better try very, very hard to be the sweetest, most feminine baby girl in the world. You're going to stay Ma-ma's precious baby princess for as long as I want you to be my baby. With Da-da's potion to help us all stay young, it's going to be a long, long time before I'll be ready to see you grow into my precious, feminine daughter."
My tongue found no hint of the tender bulge I'd felt in my upper gums last evening. It seemed to fill even more of my mouth, and drool spilled uncontrollably from my lower lip. I swallowed hard, and babbled happily up at Ma-ma. No matter how demeaning it might feel, I knew there was only one way out of my second infancy.
Finis