Mitch

[Sandra B]

77.
Shirley had had a special buggy custom made for such occasions as this – a sturdy, four-wheeled design, boy-sized, easily adjustable from a sitting to a reclining mode, fitted with a lockable lap-belt, and including ankle straps on the leg-rest to prevent kicking, and side straps for the wrists.  All this, and a softly-padded pink plastic base and matching ruffled canopy, with a storage compartment underneath where rested a pink changing-bag.  What more could a baby want?
Well there was one thing this baby definitely needed.  Because as soon as he saw it, he started protesting and struggling, trying to escape Shirley’s grip.
“Get off me!  I ain’t going in that!”
“Mandy?  Bring me a pacifier, would you?  You know what I mean.”
Oliver had thought he had them all fooled, but Shirley had finally seen through the wide-eyed innocent act.  Yulya quickly came to her aid, and soon had him subdued.  Mandy returned with a large lockable pacifier, and his protests were soon silenced, except for a few muffled expressions of indignation.  But he was still squirming.
“If you don’t behave yourself, young man, I’ll have Yulya take off your nappy and spank you.  And then she’ll take you out wearing just your plastic pants.  How would you like that?”
The threat had the desired effect, and Oliver reluctantly allowed himself to be strapped in. Yulya adjusted the buggy to recline, and pushed back the hood, leaving Oliver nicely exposed.  She leant forward and patted his cheek patronisingly.
“We go see Alice, Oliver darling.  But not by car.  We go on bus, and through town.  You like?”
Oliver started panicking.  His eyes got big and he struggled against his bonds.  But Yulya was already pushing him out of the door.
“Bye, bye, Olivia!  Have fun,” called Mandy.
And then he was outside.

There was a ten-minute walk to the bus stop.  Yulya took it in a leisurely fashion, allowing the passers-by a good long stare and the big helpless baby.
“Olivia have plenty of time,” smiled Yulya.  “Alice not expect us till about one.  Yulya have time for coffee in town, I think.”
Oliver shook his head vigorously, but Yulya just laughed.
“Yes.  Nice day.  Can drink outside.  Olivia watch all people going by.  Baby like that, yes?”
“Mmfff….”
“Oh, Olivia thirsty?  Auntie Yulya feed on bus.  Here bus stop.  Next bus…only fifteen minutes.  Not long!”
There were two women waiting at the stop, the younger one with a tiny baby in a tiny buggy.  The older one looked like her mother.  They stared at Oliver.
“I think he bigger than yours.  Hold old?”
“S-six weeks…” said the young woman, absently, still in shock.
“And yours?” grinned the older one.
“Eleven…years…I think.  But she still baby.  She slow developer.”
“Are you his mother?”
“No, I his nanny.”  And she looked like it, in her slim black skirt and rather severe while blouse.
Oliver was fuming.  He glared at Yulya.
“She’s so pretty.  And she looks so sweet in that little outfit.  May I pet her a little?”
“Please.  Olivia, nice lady want to say hello.”
Soon Oliver was being tickled and patted and prodded.  He squirmed and made inarticulate protestations.
“She loves her dummy, doesn’t she,” smiled the younger one, now recovered from her surprise and wanting to get in on the joke.  She drew Yulya aside.  “Seriously, tell me why?” she whispered.
“He very naughty boy.  Baby therapy teach him to behave.  Very effective.  Here, take card.  Miss Shirley head of P & S.  Specialise in naughty big boys.”
“Really?  That’s so interesting.  My friend has terrible trouble with her son.  Though he’s a year or two older…”
“No problem.  She can come visit.  Very nice people.”
“I’ll pass this on.  My mother seems to like him a lot.”
“Ah, it is your mother.”
“Yes.  Mum?  Come here.  What’s your name?”
“Yulya.”
“I’m Teresa.  This is my mum, Christine.  Mum, Yulya tells me little Olivia there is having baby therapy at this place…”  She showed her the card.  “I’m thinking…Steffie?  Isn’t something like this just what that son of hers needs?”
“It’s what he deserves, anyway!  Yulya, I love the traditional nappy.  And those plastic pants!  Gorgeous!”

Christine helped Yulya onto the bus with the buggy.  The wheel section unclipped and was put in the storage compartment.  There was a long seat at the front with individual seats at right-angles, so Oliver went on the long seat and Yulya sat by his head.  She got out his bottle, which she had filled with chilled juice, and offered it to him.  He was clearly thirsty, and nodded.
“No noise, then, Olivia.  Be good girl, or…”
But he understood.  She removed the pacifier and fed him from the bottle.  He drank almost all of it.  Then, as they were coming into town, she packed it away and prepared to reassemble the buggy.  She leant forward.
“If you good boy, I leave off pacifier.  But no noise or back it go.” 
Yulya said her goodbyes to Teresa and Christine, and soon she was pushing Oliver through the busy streets, towards her favourite coffee place.  The pavement was wide there, allowing for a row of tables against the windows.  She wheeled the buggy next to an empty table, with Oliver’s head next to the windows, so he could see the passers-by – and so they could see him.  He begged to be turned around, but Yulya shushed him, sat down, and ordered a coffee.  There was already a good deal of interest from the other tables, and the waitress just stood and stared until Yulya reminded her of her order.  Then she scurried away to tell her friends.

People were stopping and staring , taking photos, and giggling.  Yulya drank her coffee and read a book to deter questions.  Nevertheless, she was still interrupted.
“Excuse me, I hope you don’t mind me asking, but…”
“Her name Olivia.  Play with her if you want.”
Once one woman started talking to him and petting him, it became a free-for-all.  Yulya ignored them.  Let them do what they wanted.  Personally she didn’t find babies very interesting.  Oliver, meanwhile, wished he had still got his pacifier in.  Without it he was expected to answer questions.
“Are you a little girl…or a little boy?”
“Is it nice being a baby?”
“How old are you, darling?”
“Do you want your bottle, dear?”
“Does diddums like ticky-wicky on tummy-wummy?”
“Auntie Yulya!  Please…tell them to go away!”
Yulya sighed.  “All right, ladies.  Baby had enough attention.  Please…”
But she was interrupted by a scream from the pavement.  She looked up.  Two girls of about Oliver’s age were staring and pointing.  They hurried over.
“It is!  It’s Oliver!  Oliver!  Why are you all dressed up as a…”
“A little baby girl?” cried the other.
Yulya looked at Oliver.  He was aghast with terror.  She turned back to the girls.
“You know Olivia?”
“Olivia?  It’s Oliver!  He’s in our class!”
Her friend clarified.  “I’m Marian.  She’s Edith.  Oliver’s in our class at school!  Why is he…?”
Oliver was twisting from side to side, as if trying to escape their eager attention.  But he was helpless in his bonds.  Yulya smiled.
“Oliver been made into Olivia for a while.  He was naughty boy.  I taking him to lady for breastfeeding.”
“No!”
“Breastfeeding?  He’s going to be breastfed?  Like a real little baby?”
“Yes, Marian.  He has to be proper baby.”
“Could we watch?” asked Edith, excitedly.
“Oh.  I don’t know.  I ask.”
“No!  Don’t let them!  Don’t you dare!”
“Yulya picked up her phone.
“Shirley.  Hi.  It me.  We meet two little friends of Oliver – Olivia.  Ask to come watch breastfeeding.  What I say?  Okay.  Okay.  She ring back.  She must speak to Alice.”
Oliver’s eyes were full of tears.  “She can’t…”
“Can we take some pics?” asked Edith.
“Help yourself.”
“No!  Edith, you’d better not.  You wait!  No.  I said no!”
Oliver started thrashing about wildly, shouting and pleading.  Both the girls had their phones out filming him.
“He’s having a tantrum, isn’t he?” said Marian.  “A real baby tantrum.  Oh my god, he looks so stupid.  Wait till I show this to Doug and the boys…”
“And Debbie!  You like Debbie, don’t you Oliver…I mean Olivia.  Just imagine when she sees this.  And Vivian!  She’ll…”
But Oliver wasn’t listening any more.  He had a strange expression on his face, and was still and tense.  All at once he started sobbing.  The two girls stared at him, puzzled.
“What’s he doing?”
“I don’t know.  Oliver?  Are you all right?  Oliver?”
“Oh my god, Edith!  He’s wetting himself.  Look!  You can see his nappy through his plastic pants!  Keep filming!”
It was true.  His nappy was wet, and the wet patch was growing.  His transparent pants were steaming up and beginning to stick to the soaked towelling.  Yulya stood up and bent over him.  She gently patted his cheek.
“There, there, Olivia.  Relax, darling.  Let it all come out into nappy.  When we get to Auntie Alice’s we can change baby and put on nice dry one.”
“Can we come and watch?  Please,” begged Marian.
At that point Yulya’s phone rang.
“Hello?  Hi, Alice.  Yes, that right.  Two friends from school.  It is?  Thank you.  Oliver be very happy!  Oh, about half an hour.  See you.  Bye!”
“Auntie Alice say yes, you come.”
“Yay!” the girls screamed in unison.
“That is nice, no, Olivia?”
But there was no reply.

[Sandra B]

78.
Penny and Tracey shared a tent with Marcia and Marcella.  Penny and Tracey had talked about the day’s events as they hiked back to camp – indeed, they talked about nothing else – and had sworn faithfully that the matter would stay strictly between themselves.  It would be their secret for evermore.
 
Marcia and Marcella were already back.
“Hi guys,” Marcella greeted them.  “You’re late back.  We’ve been here for half an hour.  How was your day?”
Penny looked at Tracey.  Tracey looked at Penny.
“You wouldn’t believe it if we told you.”
“And we’re not going to.”
“Okay. Please yourselves.”
“Seriously, guys, if we told you…you’d wet yourselves, I’m telling you.”
“Okay,” said Marcia.  “Well as I don’t particularly want to wet myself right now, it’s just as well you’re not going to tell us.”
“Aren’t you even interested?”
“Nope.”
“Liar.  If you knew…well, you’d scream.”
“True.  You would.  Both of you.  You’d scream and go running round the tent like dervishes.”
“What’s a dervish?”
“I dunno – some sort of mad hyena thing, I think.  From India or somewhere.”
“I see.  Well, it’s almost supper time.  You guys hungry?”
“Marcia!  Quit pretending!  We know you’re desperate to hear what we saw…”
“What we filmed…” added Tracey, enticingly.
“You filmed it?” said Marcella, sarcastically.  “Ooh, I know what it was…was it a cow having a poo?  Or maybe a sheep…”
“…having a sleep,” completed Marcia.
“Sod you!  It was Michael – and Bobby – and they were…”
“…having…SEX!” finished Penny.
“What?”
“Damn.  We weren’t supposed to tell you, but you had to wheedle it out of us, didn’t you?  Yes.  Doing it.  Together.  In the grass.”
“Doing what?”
“Wanking.”
“No.  I don’t believe you.  You’re making it up.”
“Yeah?  Well get a load of this…”
She started the video and held it out for them to see.  Marcia and Marcella were speechless.  The film got to the bit where they started playing with each other.  Marcia nearly choked.
“Oh…my…god!”
“Wait till you see them c-umming.”
“Tracey – turn the sound down, for god’s sake.  That’s better.  fuc-k…  How did you get this?”
“We were following them.  They went down into this little…”
“Oh, fuc-k!  This is it!  Both of them!  At once!  I don’t believe it.  Run it again – go on.”

They missed supper.  They must have watched the video ten times.  Then Marcia got confidential.
“Right, guys, now listen.  This is between us – just us.  No-one else must know.  Do you understand what we’ve got here?”
“We?”
“All right, you, but now we’ve all seen it…”
“What have we got?”
“We’ve got those two by the balls, that's what we've got.  We can do whatever we want with them.  We can make them do whatever we want.”
“I know what I want them to do…” said Marcella.
“What?”
Marcella gave a quick smile, and a wink.

[sarahpenguin]

Mitch should be in chastity and cloth diapers permanenly to stop him from constantly making terriable messes to clan up. He should be a fulltime baby girl think that would the discipine he desprately needs  to thrive. He needs rules and routine doing the same thing every day. Happy babies are happy because have regular routine. Give Mitch the routine of a newborn where he knowns everything is pretedermined for the rest of his life knows when his feeedings, playtime, morning and afternoon naptimes, and bedtime in his crib are fixed he wont be stressed anymore and he just enjoy suc-king on his pacifier, being pretty for his mommy, and playing with newborn safe baby rattles in a safe routine. :)

[Sandra B]

Oliver, maybe, sarahpenguin...  But I take this as a general declaration of belief applying to all boys...

[sarahpenguin]

Oliver, maybe, sarahpenguin...  But I take this as a general declaration of belief applying to all boys...

Mitch has lots of pride about being an independent  grown up who is  capable. But those are lies he tells his family and friends. But deep down what he truely needs is to be pretty and utterly helpless to be reliant on his and friends who really see him as baby girl he really  is deep inside. There might be tears and tantrums but I am convinced he is a baby girl his core.m :)

[Sandra B]

79.
The journey from the cafĂ© to Alice’s house seemed to Oliver to take hours – not the forty-five minutes or so it actually was.  Yulya took her time, stopping to look in windows, and on two occasions going into clothes shops to look around.  The girls did their part in Oliver’s humiliation, by chanting “we’ve got a baby, we’ve got a baby” and “baby’s wetted his nappy, baby’s wetted his nappy”, thus generating interest from passers-by, several of whom stopped to pet him, to pinch his cheek or to take photos.  Nearly everyone commented on his plastic pants.
“Such pretty pants!  I love those yellow flowers…”
“And see his nappy?  A proper old-fashioned one, not a horrible disposable.”
Oliver, firmly strapped down, helpless and exposed, vacillated between anger and terror, and was unable to contain the rest of the wee he had been trying desperately to hold in, just as they were turning up Alice’s front path.
Alice had been looking out for them, and greeted their appearance at last with a mixture of excitement and relief.  She had the front door open before they had had the chance to ring the bell.
“Come in, come in!  You must be Yulya.  Lovely to meet you.  And this is Oliver – I mean, Olivia!  What a sweet baby!  And you girls…”
“I’m Marian.”
“And I’m Edith.  Thank you for letting us watch.”
“And Yulya?  Can we help change Olivia?”
“Yes, darling.  He need changing now, I’m think.  He very wet.  Miss Alice…?”
“Of course.  Follow me.”  She led them into the lounge.  “Look, I’ve laid out some thick towels here on the carpet.  Will that be okay, do you think?”
“Perfect, Miss Alice.  Now, Olivia, I unstrap you.  You behave and do what you’re told, yes?  Be good baby, okay?”
All Oliver’s enthusiasm for babyhood seemed to have disappeared.  He lay rigid while Yulya unstrapped his ankles and wrists and waist.  Perhaps he was contemplating escape, but if he was he must have realised it was futile.  Yulya spread a plastic sheet on top of the towels, then  lifted him out of his buggy and laid him gently on it.  He immediately turned onto his tummy.  Alice took a seat on the sofa while the two girls knelt opposite Yulya, their eyes sparkling with anticipation. 
She took the changing bag off the buggy, opened it, and took out a box of latex gloves.  She put a pair on.
“Now, Olivia, I get wet nappy off…”
“No!” (rebelliously).
“Now, baby, not be naughty.  First, pants…”
With a sudden tug, she had his pants round his ankles.  He whined and curled up like a hedgehog.  But Yulya was not so easily foiled, and she soon had the safety pin out of his nappy.  Then it was easy to pull it out from under him, despite his efforts to hang onto it, and then there he was, his little wet bottom uppermost, squirming and protesting.  Edith and Marian had started giggling, and threatened to become hysterical.
“Girls?” said Alice.  “Calm down, now.  If you’re going to help to change baby, you need to be nice and quiet and gentle.  Yulya?  Maybe they could wipe Olivia’s bottom.”
“Yes, please….  Let us wipe her, Yulya…”
“Okay.  Put on gloves please.  Here are wipes.  Each take two or three, and wipe carefully…”
“No!  Yulya…don’t let them!”
In reply she merely handed him his pacifier.  “Olivia no shout, please.  suc-k pacifier and lie still.”
The girls, having donned their rubber gloves, started on Oliver’s bottom.  They methodically wiped his clenched buttocks, his flanks, and the backs of his thighs.
“Unclench, please, Olivia,” said Yulya.  But receiving no response, she forcibly held his buttocks apart so the girls could wipe in between, making him shiver.  Then she took a tub of cold cream out of the changing bag, unscrewed the lid, and set it down between the girls.  They needed no instructions.  They each scooped up a dollop, and began to smooth it into his bottom. 
“I think we need do his front, now,” said Yulya.
“No way!  Don’t you dare!”
“Turn over please, baby.”
“No!”
“Olivia…”
“No.  Shan’t!”
“I will report to miss Shirley…”
“Don’t care.  Do what you fuc-king like!”
“Tut, tut,  Rude baby.  All right.  Girls?  Baby need some cream in there” – she pointed – “you know where.”
“No, no, no, no, no!” he wailed, as he felt the girls hands pushing between his buttocks.  But clenched cheeks were no defence against little inquisitive latex-sheathed fingers smeared with slippery cream.  Edith’s were the first to locate their goal.  Her face lit up with delight.  She slid her index finger in.
Oliver reacted as if he had received an electric shock.  He twisted violently sideways.  Yulya took her opportunity.  She grabbed his shoulders and turned him onto his back, and held him down.  He kicked wildly and swore in a very unbabylike fashion.  Alice slipped off the sofa and grabbed his ankles.
“Now keep still, sweetie,” she said.  “Please.  We just ned to clean you up, then you can have nice cuddles and lots of lovely milk.  Please, be a good baby and let the girls do their job.”
He struggled for a few moments, but the ladies were stronger than he, and eventually he gave in, and lay still on his plastic sheet.  He shut his eyes tight, turned his head to one side, and tried to think of nothing.  The girls got to work, wiping every bit, and then gently massaging the cooling cream into his skin, from his tummy to his hips to his thighs, and finally….
He bit his lip, but it did no good.  The girls were seized with another fit of giggles.
“Oh, dear,” said Alice.  “I don’t think we can get a nappy over that.”
“No.  But in bag are spare pants.  Maybe rubber?  Pink ones?  Here, Alice.  Perhaps you could…?”
“Of course.  Come on Olivia.  Nice soft rubber panties for you.  Feet in…  That’s right.  Now ups they go!  There, the girls are helping.  That’s right.  Under his bottom first…yes…now stretch them over…  Super.  Thank you, girls – you’ve been such a help.”
For Oliver, just to have his modesty partially restored was an immense relief, even if the rubber baby pants were stretched taut over his little tentpole.  He saw Edith surreptitiously taking a photograph, but he was so exhausted by now, all he could think of was lying in Alice’s arms feeding on her full breasts.  She was adjusting the cushions on the sofa.  Then she sat down, leant back, and motioned to him.
“Come on then, darling.”  She unbuttoned her blouse and lifted one breast out of her bra.  It was already oozing milk.  “Are you thirsty, little girl?”
Without hesitation, Oliver climbed up onto her and, resting his head on her arm, allowed her to guide the swollen, milky nipple into his lips…

[Sandra B]

80.
Bobby was surprised when, at breakfast the following day, Marcella and Penny sat down one each side of him.  He suspected there was some more sarcasm on the way, so at first he ignored them, eating his cornflakes even more noisily than usual in an attempt to drive them away.  But they remained, smirking and saying nothing, till at last he was forced to acknowledge their presence.
“Okay, so what is it now?  What mindless piece of humour have you spent all night thinking up?”
Neither responded for a while.
“Enjoying your breakfast, Bobby?” said Penny, eventually.
“I was – till you two arrived.”
“We’re just trying to be friendly,” said Marcella.
“Really.  Well if you want to be friendly, why don’t you sod off and be friendly with each other.”
“Ooh, Bobby!  You can be so rude sometimes!  And we’re trying to be nice to you.”
He threw down his spoon.
“Look.  If you want something, spit it out.  I just wanna eat my breakfast in peace, that’s all.”
“So where’s your friend?”
“My friend?”
“Yes.  What’s his name…Michael.  Where’s Michael?”
“How should I know?  Probably still asleep.”
“Didn’t you take him a cup of coffee in bed?”
“What?”
“That’s what most boyfriends would do for their girlfriends.”
“What are you talking about?”
“This?” said Penny.  She stuck her phone under his nose.  He froze, choking on his cornflakes and spitting them back into the bowl.  He turned white.  There was nothing to be said.
“So you and your girlfriend…” went on Marcella.  “You and your girlfriend better come to our tent tonight.  Say nine o’clock.  Or….”  She gave him a sweet smile, and the girls rose and left without another word.  Bobby covered his face with his hands.
“Shit!  Shit, shit, shit…”