The End Approaches

[babyamylee]

1
Ginger, formerly Jason, lay forlornly in his crib, the near 16 year old sissy baby used as a warning to other boys to behave. It was 8 o clock, so an hour past his bed time, but whilst he usually drifted right off to sleep, today he had some significant anxiety.

He surveyed his surroundings. Here he was in a little girl's nursery. His little girls nursery. He had long, pigtailed hair, tied in pretty ribbons. Pretty ribbons? What was he saying? Awful, horrid ribbons! They were his favourite pink ribbons but they were awful! His hair was coloured red, so he was a carrot top.

He wore his baby pink disney princess nightie, any male clothes long since thrown away. It was comfortable, and soft. But of course, he would prefer to be in boys pajamas, if he could just remember what trousers felt like. These clothes may have been soft but...they were for little girls and he wasn't one really!

He was instinctively clutching his favourite dolly, Annabelle, which when noticed doing it, he dropped. But then he looked at her, and felt sorry, and picked her up guiltily again, hoping his best friend wasn't hurt. What was he saying?! This is a dumb doll and he's a grown boy. He thought about dropping her again, but decided it was simply a waste of his time. Besides, she was soft.

He was laying in a pink crib, adorned with teddies and dolls, and a prissy pink strawberry shortcake cover. It locked at the top, and with his hands in mittens, he couldn't get out. He felt safe once his Mummy closed the crib. Not that he wouldn't escape if he could! It was just pointless! He had tried two years back and that was that.

His room was filled with girls toys, and childish pink furniture like a warerobe filled with pretty dresses...ugly dresses, mary jane shoes, and pretty diaper covers. And then his eyes fixated on his changing table, and then down to his own covered weewee. After two years, he was hopelessly incontinent, not  realising when he was going to go, and waking up wet and messy without remembering doing anything. It was a huge source of shame to him, as was the chastity device his Mummy had decided to lock on him to prevent him from touching himself like a grown up. He'd forgotten what that was like, and he'd certainly only had fuzzy memories of going the big girl toilet. After two years, his mind was dulled.

All this anxiety caused him to suc-k on his dummy that little bit harder. Noticing he was doing it, he thought of spitting it out. He couldn't. He desperately wanted to, but at the same time, he needed its comforting presence, as he was unused to life without it.

His sister, Lucy, age 12, popped her head in. After all this time, she still enjoyed it, and he still hated her for it. He was not allowed to say so, but she could tell. She would often tease him just by reminding him of his status and treating him like the baby he was. She could make him cry easily, but his Mummy...sorry mother, simply believed any story she would come up with about how he was upset at being wet or dropping his toys. He did cry when he needed a change but...how else would they know? And if he was upset at dropping his toys a little and crying, whose fault was that? She didn't need to remind him of it.

Of course, she got to change him, feed him, give him bath times, send him to bed. His little sister was much more grown up, and he knew better than to talk back. He tried that two years back, so why try again?

The source of his anxiety was one of excitement, intense joy, and nervousness. Ginger was to become Jason again. His Mummy...mother, had told him on his approaching 16th birthday, he was to  be able to grow up and be a 16 year old boy, with all that entailed.

[babyamylee]

2.
The days that followed were filled with thoughts of his hopes, fears and dreams. His sister did not mention it, and he wondered if she even knew?

As she undressed him for bath time, he wondered, what was the point of waiting? Why wait until his sixteenth? He could be getting out of this right now.

Would he still be able to use his baby bubble bath and toys?

Of course not, he would no longer need them. He would no longer find a lot of comfort in his bathtimes, he would take a shower like a grown boy. His body hair would grow again. Would it? Hopefully. Although being smooth was a nice feeling, it was a stupid sissy feeling to like it.

He would clean himself. He could do it again. His Mother or sisters soft hands would not be needed.

As his thoughts swirled around, he noticed, he was being perfectly obedient. Maybe it was time to show he wasn't going to be a baby any more.

"Lift your arms princess!"

He refused, she scolded him, and tears swelled up, she grabbed his arm and lifted it for him, and resistence was gone. Maybe next time.

3.
He was next put into his playpen, filled with his dolls. They had business. His sister put his favourite Tangled movie on and he sat there, playing Tea Party, to many giggles from his sister.

He had started this after months of boredom. All he had was toys. He could play with them or sit there and do nothing. He would watch Rapunzel or he could pay attention to the walls. It had been a long time since he had refused to play, it was his favourite thing to do and he guiltily did it. If he was lucky, his sister allowed him to play fashion show with his dollies, and would dress him and them up. But today, he was content to play tea party.

Hold on...what was he doing!? This is silly. He has become such a traitor to himself. When he grows up, this behaviour will have to go! He will have to think of a way to deny he ever did it! So he decided, there and then, to stop. This was no longer his life. Thankfully. And there he sat for 20 minutes with nothing to do except pretend he was not watching his Princess movie. And he looked around his dolls, sat around his little table, and felt sorry for them. And he reasoned, until he was a boy, he could not do nothing, he had to do something, so he spent his morning playing his sweet little games with his pretty dollies in his pretty pink princess dress and suc-king on the dummy he was reliant on.

And he felt so ashamed, but so secure and content.

4.
Next came dinner time. He had grown used to eating mush, but his mind became fixated on the dinners he would be able to try again. The ones that carried a smell across the room whenever Mummy and Miss Lucy dined on them and made him crazy. The anticipation was wild. Amd as he sipped on his juice, he wondered what he would drink now. This was not something he was going to miss. He was sat there, secure and safe in his high chair, his legs dangling, his mother softly feeding him, such pride, and happiness on her face. She herself had come to love him like this, and was very kind to him whenever he was a good baby rather than a spoiled boy in a dress, and for his part, he acted like a good baby to make her happy. He peered over at his sister with her metal cutlery, thinking that could potentially be harsh on his mouth and the meat difficult to digest. But he would get used to it again.

When he grew up.

[babyamylee]

5.
His Mother then changed his nappy. His mood was getting slightly anxious. And nervous. He knew what this changing meant however. He got up onto his table and was secured on to it, his hands tied.  Then, his nappy was removed and his area cleaned. He no longer felt so disgusted by the feeling of a filled, messy nappy. He didn't have the convenience of going potty, nor did it make a difference protesting now.  He we was used to it.

"Just think, when you are a big boy honey you will be able to do all this yourself".

He thought on those words, and got a feeling of exhilaration. He could not say why, it's just something he wanted more than anything else once and knew it must be good.

This night time change was special, because she took the time to remove his chastity and clean him properly. He had to be secured, at first, but now, he didn't think twice of struggling. It was simply a fact that she would secure him, take off his chastity, clean him and replace it. She would speak babyishly to him of course, reminding him how small he was and how cute his little button was. And reminding him that, after a number of stages, he was in the smallest chastity they had.

"You'll be able to take that off soon. But you will always be cute as a button!"

He panicked at that. He would never be able to have a girlfriend at that rate, but then, who could he find in town who would not know he was the boy who lived as a sissy baby girl for over two whole years?
That was a thought. He wouldn't be able to find friends, who would want him now? He would be as lonely as he used to be without his dolls for comfort. And they would no longer be there for him either.

6.
He was soon back in his crib, 7pm. His Mummy brought him his bottle. The anxious thoughts and nerves made him enjoy his bottle ever more. He once found it disgusting, but now, he suc-kled on it every bit as much as if it were ice cream. It brought him so much comfort. He of course knew it would mean he wet sooner rather than later, but he was safe in his nappy, so it didn't matter. When his Mummy asked him if he wanted another bottle, whilst he once resisted, he now gave an enthusiastic nod and she would tell him a story while he drank.

"I'll miss having my little Princess around. Little Princess Ginger with his pretty pigtails and his pretty dresses. But I cant force you to stay like this. You've been through it long enough.

Soon you will be back in boring shirts, and boring trousers, and arguing with Mummy about your video games, like other boys".

She giggled, this must have been her idea of a joke.

"We will never be this close again sweetpea. There are things you will need to do on your own, but I will always be here for Mummy's Little Princess. I hope you are as delightful, well behaved, sweet, and cute as a boy as you are now."

His attitude to his mother had changed. At the first, it was hatred, then outright resentment, then tolerance, then back to the same love he had before his treatment, but it kept going. Now, it was more than respect, it was more than love, it was outright adoration. Mummy was pretty. She was kind. She always knew best. She looked after him so much.
His attitude to his sister had softened a little, but not to the same degree. He respected her now. She was stronger, smarter, more grown up, more independent, and he needed her. But he still resented. He was older, and should have been more grown up, if only he was allowed to.

His Mummy called Lucy in and they both gave him a warm night time kiss and said good night. It was 0715, still light out, but time didn't matter any more. He only knew it because he caught a glance of his Mummy's watch. There were whole weeks where he had no idea. He had no times to remember. No important schedules, no classes, no stress. His life was easy, comfortable, and he was treated very kindly.
...Not that  he wanted that. Definitely not, he thought. It's just, he'd become used to it.

7.
As he lay there, day two of his knowing that the end of his babyhood was approaching, he reflected on how he got here.

Lucy and Jason argued about anything and everything, and his mother hated it. One fateful day, she left the house to calm down, and came back to them arguing still.

Jason didn't like or respect females much, like most boys, and was arguing that boys were always stronger. He had said some pretty hateful things, like girls were not made to lead, and that things were better when they were limited. He was just trying to get at his sister, but he believed these things deep down.

Finally, she snapped, and bet him. An arm wrestling match with his little sister. Winner takes all. No limits. He was going to make her his maid, she would wait on him forever. No more dishes. No more housework. She would do everything.

He'd backed her into a corner and she could NOT deny him. Her pride was too large, he reasoned.

Her terms were a little more ambiguous. She gets to control him, of course, but change him into whatever she saw fit.

So sure of his victory, he did not put any thought into the implications of this, or even a time limit, so when they got their arms down to wrestle, he wanted to renegotiate. But she had him trapped too. He was too egotistical to back out And his mother would make the loser obey. No more arguing, no more fighting. One would simply be obedient. Of course, she hoped Lucy would win, because her son was getting punished either way for what he had said, but she did not say that at the time. She knew something Jason did not. Lucy was surprisingly strong, and he was hopeless.

As it dawned on Jason he was going to lose, it was too late, and as he was protesting about not being ready, his sister laughed. Bang. His arm, shattered onto the table.

[babyamylee]

8.
The process had been slow coming, but the aim was always total babying. It took weeks to get together. Lucy was given his big bedroom, and her old room was slowly converted into the nursery bit by bit. The redecorating happened first, with childish disney princess wallpaper and carpeting, and the painting of his sisters old furniture, baby pink.

He pleaded with both, to let him change their deal, but they were both set on it. A few girls clothing sets from charity shops were worn until his baby dresses arrived and he'd worn his last set of male underpants mere hours after the infamous bet was lost, so he was used to frilly panties, but he was crying like a baby when he was first pinned into his nappies, and left in his crib, on his 14th birthday.

The ginger hair and name had been Lucy's idea, of course, and his life changed so drastically he had to adapt. He couldn't fight forever. He had to accept some things, and slowly but surely he accepted everything.

He was spanked if he spoke, so communicated by grunts, and cries, but mostly, he didn't need to, as life happened around him no matter what he did.

Now he was hopelessly babified, and had no hatred in his heart left for either his tormentors.

9.
Drifting to sleep once again, having thought of his ordeal, he spent the next two days reflecting on everything. His birthday was fast approaching.

He would not be able to make friends unless they moved.
He would have to give up his dolls and find new activities.
He would need to retrain his potty training, which he had been unable to do even when experimenting to take control.
He would need to get used to wearing big boys clothes again.
He would no longer have the closeness of his Mummy.
He would have to somehow give up his dumdum.
He would have to face the world again.

On the plus side.

He would be free again, to go where he wanted and do what he wanted.
He could eat what he wanted and drink what he wanted.
He would be able to feel himself again, stroke himself again, as he had long forgotten what that felt like.
He would be normal again, he had always wanted that.
He could learn to drive.
He could go places they didn't know him. Start again.
 
That night, on the eve of his birthday, he wept softly due to the pressure, and flooded his nappy. His Mummy came in, softly shusshing him to sleep.

[babyamylee]

10.
It was time. He was helped out of his bed, and got up. He was instantly walked into the spare room, and it had been set up as a bedroom.
His mother had some clothing on the bed.

"Sorry, like before, we may have to start slow. These are from the charity shop, but we will get you some clothes soon."

She removed his dummy and left him there to change, which jarred him, but he remembered he no longer needed her. He removed his ribbons and his night dress. He cried for her, pointing to his nappy, she took it off, removed his chastity, and put on a fresh one. She again left. He put on the baggy tracksuit pants, clearly bulky to incorporate the nappy he would still need for a few weeks.

Next came a plain dark blue T Shirt. Colours he didn't see much of recently much less wear.

Finishing dressing in plain socks and trainers, he looked dissatisfied.
His jaw felt strange, and not in a good way, he was missing his dummy, but he would get used to it, wouldn't he?

His mother came in to check and noticed his demeanor.

"Don't worry Jay. We'll get everything sorted."

He grunted.

She led him out of the room and paused at his nursery, tilting her head at it.

"Say bye bye Jay. Bye bye!"

Ginger, now Jason, merely whimpered. They passed his sisters room. She looked on disappointed.

"Hey Jay. Good to see you again. Hope things work out."

At least she would not be teasing him today, he reasoned. Maybe she had grown to love him too over the last few years.

He passed his pen, the dolls still sat around their tea party table, waiting for their mummy to come play. He grunted.

His mother sat him at the breakfast table.

"I will get my big soldier a nice big breakfast shall I? Just for today. You'll be doing ALL this from now on! Isn't that exciting?"

He sat, unsecured, in his chair, as she brought him some muesli. He took his cold metal spoon and merely stirred it. He felt like he things were wrong. He didn't know what.

His mother looked over, puzzled.

"Something wrong, honey?"

He looked up, whimpering, ashamed. His lip wobbling.

"This was too fast?"

He said nothing, merely looking down.

"Jason, we need to talk. Meet me in your bedroom. Wherever that may be. Meet me there".

She pointed out the door, and he trundled upstairs.

He stopped outside the doors, and did not know what to do. He felt like there were things he needed from his little girl world. Did he need them so badly or would his mother help him overcome his old life? Yes, that's what. He could go into his new room, just tell her, maybe, he could start on chewing gum, maybe start on more boyish disney films, maybe take things slow. He would ask her that...?

As he was stood pondering, she came up next to him, took his arm, and said "Come on Princess. I know what you need".

She led him straight into his nursery. He wasn't sure, and thought maybe he should at least try to grow up, but his resistance to her had long since gone. Maybe he could tell her now.

She looked so happy, and so kind again, and he stopped thinking.
"Honey. Do you need your dodo?"

He nodded, sadly and slowly. He did need it.

"Princess, that wont do any more. Now I know. This is what you want. You can make a choice to be my perfect little baby girl or a grown boy and you have to decide right now. But you can't be moping around any more, and you can't be a rebel. Whatever you choose will be your decision, and it might be the last you ever make."

He was shocked, his heart pounding. He couldn't grow up right now, he would be able to soon, but it was too much.

"Does my pretty little potty pants Princess want her sweet special dodo?"

He nodded positively and enthusiastically. She pushed it in.

"Now, does my little honeybuns want to keep his dowdy old nasty stinky ugly boys clothes or his super sweet pretty comfy lovely soft Princess Dresses? Which one?

Stinky boys clothes?"
He shook his head.

"Pretty Princess Dress?"

He nodded happily. She had used simple psychology, but his mind was dulled, and she made the pretty clothing seem so much more happy.

"Does my little sissy baby Princess Ginger want to be a sweet sissy baby girl for ever or does he want to be a nasty stupid ugly boy?"

He curtsied, acting pretty, cutely, dainty.

"Hmm? A nasty boy?"

He dialled it up. pursing up his lips and blowing a kiss, twirling, and acting every bit the sissy he now was.

"Okay honey, but from now on, you chose this. This is the rest of your life. You will never be grown up. You will be cute and sweet and obedient and never touch yourself in a grown up way or think like a grown up. You will be a happy baby as you wanted this."

He blushed in shame, but nodded affirmatively.

That was the last time she ever tried to grow him up, and even though he missed his old life, he knew he could never go back to it.

The resentment to his big sister Miss Lucy was gone, she was a grown up to him, and he adored her and vowed always to be good for her. He gave her a beaming smile and hugged her waist when she came in to see him and she realised his resistance had gone. This was now Ginger and she would always look after him.

And as he spent his 16th birthday in his playpen, in his prettiest pink dress, hugging his dolls like old friends and wetting and messing, he knew, he was where he was meant to be.

He chose this.

-THE END-

[sissykimmy1]

I love absolutely everything about this besides that it ended. But given the title, guess it had to. :P

[krystalasbaby2017]

Once forced into the lifestyle, the way his mummy ended up having him stay in it was great.  Good story