Parts 5-7 are missing. Please mail us or post a copy if you have it.
Best I can do again:
Part 5
Mandy took care of our naughty baby girl while I got the rubber paddle. Since our little one’s cute butt would be bare, I put on a clear plastic apron to protect my clothes from an accident. The apron went down to my ankles and reminded me of the ones you see mothers wearing in movies from the fifties.
For this punishment, Mandy had cuffed his wrist behind her back. The diaper and plastic pants were on the floor and our baby knelt with his nose in the corner of the room, his white butt waiting to be reddened.
I sat on an armless chair and Mandy brought over the naughty one to me. While I sat with the paddle at the ready, Mandy bent our new baby over my plastic protected lap. As we pulled up the skirts to expose the white, hairless flesh, the baby moaned around the gag Mandy had fixed while I was getting the paddle. It was one of those gags with an air pump and I could hear by the muffled cries and see with her puffed cheeks that the gag had been pumped to full expansion. That was good since we didn’t want anyone on the street hearing the screams that would surely come with my paddling.
Even in her drugged state, I could see she had an idea of what was coming. Mandy hurried out for a second and came back with the video camera. I smiled and struck the first blow.
You could see that he screamed but of course, only a muffled moan escaped the tight gag. What could be going through the man's mind right now. Only an hour ago he was in a coffee shop, reading and relaxing, not knowing he would soon be dressed as a little baby girl, the captive of two women, bound and gagged, getting his ass spanked.
I smacked the paddle down again, the loud crack echoing in the apartment. Now both cheeks were bright red. His legs feebly kicked and I saw her hands struggle helplessly in the plastic mittens. The petticoat and skirt of his dress covered his face so Mandy pulled up his head to get the tears on tape. I smacked him ten times on each cheek and his will and bladder broke. Good thing I wore the plastic apron.
Mandy stood him up after I finished. I was so hot from the spanking and now seeing the little man standing there, his pathetic P*nis shrived, cheeks moving as he silently cried, I came without touching myself. Mandy smiled at me as I sat on the chair.
“Are you going to behave?” she asked.
He nodded. The hose and bladder pump of his gag bounced.
“Will you use your diaper for everything?”
Again, he nodded.
“Is your name now Suzy?”
Another nod.
“Okay, then,” said Mandy. “Let’s get you cleaned up and into some dry diapers.”
Part 6
Everything seemed to be in a foggy place, somewhere between being asleep and awake, until the first pain shot through to me from the contact of the paddle. It was like someone stuck a match to my skin, that was how hot my tender skin felt. With bright clarity, I knew I was helpless lying across the plastic apron-wearing woman being spanked. I tried to scream, but all sound was muffled by the horrid gag filling my mouth.
Never had I felt so helpless as I uselessly squirmed as she continued to beat my ass. It seemed to go on forever and when she had finally finished, something changed inside of me. I don’t know if it was the punishment or the drugs they had slipped into me, but I felt outside of my grown self and back into a place long forgotten. I cried like a baby. One of them held me up as the other one asked me questions.
“Are you going to behave?” she asked me
I didn’t want my burning skin to be touch, let alone spanked. I nodded yes.
“Will you use your diaper for everything.”
Before my passage into this special place, I would have refused. Now I just wanted to please them more than anything in the world. Surely, I was slipping into some insane place, because I really wanted to be put securely into diapers. My life was a mess. They offered escape into some kinky world, but it was escape. Again, I nodded, tears rolling down my cheeks.
“Is your new name Suzy?”
For a moment, I grew very scared and ashamed. I would have been sobbing but for the gag. Only a little man like myself, always ridiculed and alone, would come to this point where his only use was to be made into a little, diaper wearing girl for two kinky women. I wanted to say no, but my weak willed self nodded yes.
Baby's New Home Part 6
Baby's view
I worked to let go of my real self and become a baby girl as they cooed and treated me so lovingly, carrying me over to a changing table as if I were a real baby. What ever they had done with the drugs kept my muscles in a very relaxed state and my nerves very sensitive. I could feel everything in a heightened state I never experienced before. As the one called Mandy powdered and oiled me for a new diaper, the other played with my face and it felt wonderful. The soft hands messaging the baby oil were like nothing I ever experienced. They took out my gag and replaced it with a pacifier, large enough for an adult. I suc-ked on it with my eyes closed, loving the way the diaper was pulled up and pinned tightly around my unusually small waist. I could only shop in the boys department.
They were talking between themselves, but like a baby, I let the adult talk wash over me like a warm shower, listening to the soft, warm tones, but not caring about the content. I could fell the plastic pants being pulled up my smooth legs, the tight leg openings biting into my skin after she worked the noisy pants over my thick diapers.
I opened my eyes and looked down at the ballooning pink plastic pants and unbelievably, without trying, I began to wet my diapers. Mandy noticed and pressed her hand on the front of my plastic pants, smiling as she pressed the warming, wet diaper against my skin. Because I was on my back, streams of warm pee rain down between my legs to pool in the rear side of my diaper.
I was still in the white, pretty, dress and they carried my over to a corner of their loft where it had been set up like those camera studios you see at Sears. There were a lot of big stuffed animals on the floor and a large rocking horse. A blanket with baby blocks as been hung on the wall.
If felt so odd, but for some reason familiar as I was carried. She held me underneath my dress, her arm against my plastic pants, while the white satin dress flowed over her arms. I wrapped my little arms around her neck. She held me this way as the other lady took some pictures. Then they switch places and took more pictures, all the while I suc-ked on my pacifier and tinkled some more into my waiting diaper. It was so exciting, wetting my diaper while being held.
I was put on the rocking horse and they fussed with my dress to make sure it flowed but also let my pink plastic pants peek out the bottom. They also adjusted my socks and right before they shot the pictures, the larger woman, who wanted me to call her Miss Katy, rubbed baby oil on my legs.
Pictures seemed to be sealing my fate with their permanent record of my regression. The still stinging on my butt against the wooded horse kept me from protesting.
Part 7
Everyone smiled and they were so nice to me after the pictures. The other lady who I now knew was named, Bev, carried me to the kitchen. I smelled food and realized with a start, that I was starving. Not surprising to me anymore, I was put into an adult sized high chair. Mandy tied a large plastic bib on me. The pip match my plastic pants.
Unfortunately, I found that the food I smelled was not for me. Instead, Bev lined up four jars of baby food for me while Mandy filled a baby bottle with milk. With my hands still securely in my mittens, I could feed myself. Being feed by Bev seemed to be another big step in my regression. Being so hungry, I didn’t resist her spooning of the foul tasting baby food. The feeling of helplessness was almost overwhelming as I took the food from her. I guess I was not very good at this because of the drugs. Food did get on my face and drip down on the bib.
All the while I was fed, the two ladies talked as if I weren’t there. They discussed what I would wear for bed, how many diapers I would need for overnight, when would I have a bowel movement, etc.
Outside I could hear traffic and people talking on the street below. It sounded like a far away world from the one I was trapped. How shocked would the people be to know that a twenty-five year old man sat in a high chair in the room above being feed baby food, wearing a white dress and wet diapers.
A weird thing happened – as if this wasn’t already weird – but without trying or even knowing I did it, I pooped my diaper. I was so focused on trying to work my drug numbed mouth correctly to eat, that I didn’t know I had filled my diaper until Mandy laughed and said, “it smells like someone needs a diaper change after she has been fed.” It was then that I felt the warm sticky mess in my diaper. I started to cry again.
“It’s okay,” said Bev. “It’s not baby’s fault. Mommy will change you after she’s done feeding you.”
So, I sat in my messy, smelly diaper as she continued feeding me. After the food, she didn’t change me, instead giving me a bottle to hold between my mittens. To drink, I had to lean back in the high chair. It was a slow process, suc-king the bottle, and while I did, the ladies ate.
Sitting in a dirty diaper, protected from soiling my dress or the seat of the high chair by my plastic pants, I felt warm feeling of comfort. The mommy voices fell to a southing background noise and all my problems faded. I felt a strange numbness in my crotch area as if my little shaft was shrinking to nothing.
I actually felt as if I were shrinking to fit the role of a toddler in diapers
Betty Pearl's Sissy Stories 20.1
Topic: Baby's new home by Deewet (Read 35167 times)
