I Am the Family’s New Little Baby Girl

[jamiep]

I Am the Family’s New Little Baby Girl - Part 8

 

My sister laughed a little more and left the room in a rush.  I heard her run down the hall to her room.  She soon came back with a small suitcase in her hand.  I wondered what it was for when she put it on the floor in front of me.  She told me she had a special present for her new little sister and opened the top of the case.  It was full of her collection of Barbie dolls and all of the doll’s clothes and accessories.  Looking up at my sister, I knew what I was expected to do, so again in a sobbing defeat, I pulled out one of the dolls and began to dress the doll in its small and tight fitting clothes.

 

I had played dollies for about an hour continuously dressing each doll in one outfit and then another.  My sister seemed to be enjoying watching me with a sadistic glee.  While I played with her dolls, she watched TV, but I sat on the floor so my back was to the screen.  It had been some time since I relieved my bladder and soon I was in the painful position of just how to relieve myself unnoticed.  I tried to relax, but it was as if my sister was watching and waiting for the inevitable.  I was able to hold off for a few minutes, but the pain grew to be too much for me and I gave in to nature.  As I tried to relax, I found myself grunting a little as I managed to release the contents of my bladder into the thirsty diaper.

 

The liquid quickly spread throughout my crotch region and my sister noticed my predicament.  She asked me in a babyish sort of way if Sissy Baby Sammy was a wet little girl.  I nodded my head.  After all, she would check anyway and if I lied, I could get in even more trouble than I was already in, but I couldn’t think how.  She left the room and returned with my changing pad, a box of baby wipes, a bottle of baby lotion, a bottle of baby powder and, of course, a fresh new disposable diaper.  I think my sister enjoyed changing me since it really made me look so weak and small.  She took her sweet time cleaning me, applying lotion and powder to my crotch, but seemed to take a special pleasure, and some extra time, in putting a new diaper on her new, favorite little sister.

 

My mom came into the room holding what looked like a dress for one of her customers.  It was a bit strange looking, though.  She held the dress in one hand and a matching pair of bottoms in the other.  It dawned on me that what she was holding she had made for me.  Mom put the dress over the arm of the couch and motioned for me to stand up.  As I did, she held out the bottoms and told me to step in.  I began to protest, but my mom stood there with her hands on her hips.  She then told me I had a choice – I could step into the outfit now, or after she called a few of my friends over to see the new girl on the block.  Fearing more humiliation at the hands of my friends, I relented and agreed to do what my mom said.

 

She once again held out the bottoms for me and I reluctantly stepped into them.  As she snaked them up my legs, I noticed that they looked very much like my cousin’s rhumba panties she wore the night I baby-sat for her.  I realized my mom had made the same outfit for my baby cousin and this was simply a larger version of the same outfit.  The panties were pink and white polka dotted cotton with several rows of lace across the seat.  As she fussed with the panties around my diapers, she seemed satisfies that they fit, so she turned her attention to the top.

 

The top was not a nightie top like my cousins, but more like a baby’s sun dress I had seen my cousin wear at parties early on in the summer.  It matched the panties and buttoned in the back.  I put my arms through the armholes that ended in short, puffy sleeves with elastic cuffs.  The dress was barely long enough to go past my waist and really showed off the panties.  There could be no question I was wearing diapers in this outfit.  Mom buttoned the back with what I counted to be at least twelve buttons and spun me around.  As I turned, she smiled with a sense of pride in her workmanship.  To complete the outfit, my sister put a pair of anklet type pink socks on my feet and finished it off with a pair of black-strap Mary Jane shoes that just fit my feet.  Before she left the room, mom turned to my sister and asked her if she would like to take her new little sister out in the back yard to play.

 

Playing out in the backyard dressed like a little, baby girl was not in my mind when I began satisfying my fetish so long ago.  But my sister was dragging me outside where I would be in plain view of anyone who might be out in neighboring yards.  I was mortified at the possibility of being seen like this.  However, I was soon out in the yard with my sister and she was determined to play some kind of game with me.



At first, all I could do was to sit curled up in a fetal position on the patio deck as far away from the yard as possible.  I was crying some really big crocodile tears.  My sister pleaded with me to join her in a simple game of catch, but nothing could stop me from crying.  I was so fearful of being seen dressed as I was.  Then my sister left me alone for a few minutes and reappeared with my mom.  She walked over to me, gave me a big hug, told me that everything was going to be all right.  However, she explained, that this was what I had asked for and like any good mother, she was going to help me get what I wanted.  I tried to find the words to explain to mom that this was not what I had wanted in any way, shape or form.  But the words just never could come out.  After all, my mom was the one who first discovered me dressed in bed.

 

My sister got me to finally play catch with her.  She sat me down in the middle of the yard and would roll a big soccer ball to me.  I was on the soccer team and this ball was my practice ball, but using it to play catch with my sister was really a problem for me.  We had been at it for about thirty minutes.  I thought my sister would never tire of this, but she kept rolling the ball to me and I would roll it back.  Every time I would catch the ball, my sister would make me clap while she also clapped and told me I was a good girl.  After a while, I even got caught up in trying to catch the ball several times in a row as a type of contest with myself.  It kind of got my mind off of my troubles.

 

Then my troubles grew a little worse.  I had not had a bowel movement all morning and I soon felt cramps and pains in my gut.  Then soon, I felt the urge to poop and I really had to go.  I tried to hold out for a few minutes, but this was unlike any bowel movement.  I remembered the last time I had pains like this was when I was sick and had a bad case of diarrhea.  I was having the same kind of cramps and feelings of urgency right now.  My sister sensing my new troubles asked if I had to make a poopy in my diaper.  I nodded and she told me to just let it go.  I shook my head no, but she insisted that I use the diaper.  I tried to get up to run inside, but she blocked my way.  I tried to run around her, but she would always move a little faster and continue to block my way.  I then tried to do a sort of tight buns dance to try to hold it in.  I managed to hold it, if I stood very still, but soon lost the battle.

 

I had once pushed out a load into a diaper because I wanted to.  That was exhilarating.  But this time I had to push out a load into my diaper, in front of my sister, and I really did not want to do that. This was really something quite different.  And unlike my first time, I really didn’t need to do much pushing on my part.  It seemed to really just let loose and in a big rush of a bowel movement, I filled my diaper rather quickly with quite a lot of loose mush.  Doing it in front of my sister was particularly humiliating.   I thought everyone for miles around could also hear my butt sounds as I did my dance.  It occurred to me this was no ordinary bowel movement.

 

I stood on the deck, diapers filled with the load I had just made, and my sister laughing hysterically.  She came over to me, felt my bottom, confirmed that I had just made “a large poopy” in my diapers, and told me once again what a good baby girl I was.  She then put both hands on my shoulders and began to try to make me sit down on the ground.  My sister was a lot taller and stronger than I was, but I managed to fight her off for a little while.  However, she tripped me up as I tried to get around her and get inside and as I fell to the ground, I landed on my bottom.  The mushy load in my rear spread with a splat and I was forced to concede defeat.  As I cried, my sister only laughed with sadistic glee.

[jamiep]

I Am the Family’s New Little Baby Girl - Part 9

 

This was only the first day, and already my sister put make-up and nail polish on me to make me look just a little more ladylike.  My mom had made one sun dress outfit for me to wear and was busily sewing new girlish outfits for me to wear in the very near future.  As my sister dragged me into the house to change my diapers, I could not help but think of how my life had suddenly changed and not for better.  I could not bear the thought of more humiliation and torment at the hands of my sister, but I really had no other options available.  My best bet was to just accept my fate as best I could.  Maybe if I pretended to enjoy it a little, they would all tire of the game and I would be released from my suffering.  I didn’t think I could endure another day of this, let alone a week or more.

 

I was wrong as I could be. As the next few days came and went, my mom had made several more outfits for me to wear.  She made a few baby doll nighties with matching ruffled rumba panties that I began wearing to bed each night.  She also sewed a few onesies for me to wear whenever it was too hot for a sun dress.  The worst was the two piece bathing suit she made.  The top was a kind of bra, but with extra ruffles sewn into the shoulder straps that tied at the neck and in the back.  The bottoms were a kind of panty and skirt combination and the skirt didn’t really cover my butt too well.  I would have to wear this while sitting in the old kiddy pool my parents brought out of the attic. They set it up in the backyard, filled it with water, dressed me in new found swim diapers and my swimsuit, and make me sit in it and splash around while they all video taped my performance.

 

A week went by and each day brought new frustrations.  My mom and sister have decided that there should be a daily routine that should be followed.  I should have a morning bubble bath after I awoke to make sure I at least started the day out really clean.  I was beginning to develop certain body parts, so my sister shaved my armpits, arms and legs daily.  For my groin, she used a depilatory cream.  I would then be diapered and dressed in some new sissyish outfit and fed my breakfast of oatmeal.  What I found out later was that both my mom and sister were adding a few spoonfuls of Metamucil to each breakfast. I later learned that’s why I needed to poop so much.  My mornings were spent in the family room where my sister made me play with her dollies.  Then, a lunch of some kind of mashed food and then I would be made to take a nap.  After I was awakened around three o’clock, it was backyard play if the weather was nice.  It had been nice outside all week, so I hadn’t spent my afternoons indoors that first week.

 

Dinners were a special event.  I was sat near my sister and fed jar after jar of baby food while everyone else got full meals of chicken, spaghetti or steak.  Mom and Dad cooed over their new little girl as my sister delighted in missing my mouth a lot so she could scoop up fallen food and re-feed it to me.  I was not allowed to talk at all except in baby talk.  This caused me a lot of frustration in trying to get my needs met.  I was beginning to feel what a real baby felt like which was what my family probably had in mind all along.

 

After dinner, I was cleaned up, my diapers changed, and by seven o’clock, I was being tucked in for the night.  I was given two full bottles of formula and told to drink them dry.  After that, I could turn over and sleep.  I began to look forward to sleeping since it seemed to be my only sense of normalcy.  I usually cried myself to sleep, but each night got easier and easier to fall asleep.  I didn’t think anything could get worse, but like before, I was wrong.

 

It was Saturday and a little more than a week had passed since I entered my new babyhood.  I was awakened, undressed, and given my usual bath and make-up treatment.  After being dressed in a new jumper outfit, I was brought down to the family room and got a big shock.  My dad, a cabinet maker by trade, had fashioned a large playpen especially for me.  It was quite a bit larger than a normal playpen and had a gate so I could climb in without having to be lifted over the railing.  The gate was opened for me, so I crawled in and sat on the thin, vinyl mat that was decorated with some animals and such.  My dad closed the gate and locked me in.  The sides were pretty high.  Even if I stood up, I could not lift my leg over to get out, so I was quite trapped.

 

My sister gleefully began to throw in some baby toys – rattles, blocks, a pyramid ring thing, and some bigger dolls.  She told me my cousin had outgrown them and wanted to donate them to some needy baby.  My mom, my dad and my sister all watched me as I looked over my new surroundings.  My mom told me that now I could just sit and play and my sister didn’t need to spend so much time looking after me.  She gave me two baby bottles filled with water in case I got thirsty and no one was around.  However, she warned me that if I ever took the cap off and did not drink through the nipple, I would be severely punished.  I didn’t know what that meant, but I also didn’t want to know.

 

With nothing else to keep me occupied, I played with the toys in my playpen.  It helped to pass the time.  My sister had left for the day to be with her friends at the mall.  Mom and dad spent a lot of time in the bedrooms.  I think they were doing a thorough cleaning because I heard furniture being moved around.  I did not know how much time had passed, but I started to get hungry.  I thought it might be nearing lunchtime and as my mom came in the room, I found out I was right.  She opened the gate to let me out, took me to the kitchen where she, my dad and I had some lunch.  They ate sandwiches, potato chips, pickles and pop.  I was fed more oatmeal and formula out of a sipper cup.

 

After a much needed diaper change, my mom announced it was time for my nap.  I crawled down the hall and into my room and got another shock.  My dad had made a new bed for me.  But this bed was an oversized crib.  I looked up at my mom and dad and began to cry and shake my head.  How could you do this to me?  How?  Why?  This is too much!  I won’t do it!  I won’t!

 

My mom had the answer again.  If I didn’t do what they told me, they would simply invite all of my friends over to play with me.  Nothing would really change except that maybe I wouldn’t be able to ever show my face again in public, let alone at school.  This time, however, she added a few names of some girls who I had mentioned I liked at school.  Maybe they would enjoy baby sitting me some night.  Sobbing in defeat, I stood up as mom lowered the side of the crib and crawled up and into my new bed.  As she covered my up with a new baby animal print blanket she made especially for me, she added a new friend for me to sleep with – a large teddy bear.  She lifted up the locking side, walked over to the window and closed the shades, turned out the light, and left me to fall asleep for my nap.  I could have died right then and there.

 

The days passed by without too much more happening.  I had fallen into accepting the routine of my new babyhood.  I slept in my crib, was given lots of bubble baths, had make-up and nail polish applied daily, wore diapers 24/7, and really hated my existence.  I began to just sit and wait for the time to pass.  It was dull and boring.  What was worse was that I had begun to wet my diapers from time to time and didn’t notice it until after I had done it.  I would just be playing with some stuffed animals and notice that I was wet.  Was I beginning to lose all control?  Even making a bowel movement in my diapers was getting easier and easier to do.

[jamiep]

I Am the Family’s New Little Baby Girl - Part 10
 
My only other sense of normalcy was my paper route.  I still had to get up in the morning and deliver the newspapers.  Only then was I allowed to climb out of the crib, take off my nightie, and get dressed in “normal” clothes, but I still had to wear the diaper I had on and was told I would catch heck if I was ever caught without it.  When I would come back from delivering the papers, I would get dressed back into the nightie and crawl back into the crib.  I was told never to climb out of the crib for any other reason and I feared further punishments of any kind.  I figured, how could my life get worse?

Since I had to wear the diaper while delivering my papers, I would nearly always come home wet.  However, I was beginning to wake up now in a wet diaper, so I would go out to deliver the papers starting in a wet diaper.  Since it was already wet, if I peed more, it was more than likely I would come home in pants that were wet from a leaky diaper.  I felt fortunate somehow that most people,   in my neighborhood was awake when I delivered the papers, especially all my friends.  All of my friends were usually still asleep.
 
Then one day, the alarm clock went off and I didn’t hear it.  My mom came in to wake me about two hours late.  One of my customers had called wondering if there was something wrong and why hadn’t he gotten his morning paper.  I quickly dressed and left in a run even though my diaper was thoroughly soaked.  My sister had given me a lot of water to drink the night before and I must have peed all of the water she fed me into the diaper.  I had no time to argue, however, since I was a bit late as it was.
 
As I ran to deliver the papers, I could feel my jeans getting a wet spot in the rear just below where the diaper would come.  I tried to move as fast as I could to avoid being seen by anyone, but as my luck would have it, pretty Francine, one of the girls my mom mentioned as a possible baby sitter met me at the door to get her father’s newspaper.  I tried to tell her I was late, but she wanted to have a conversation about my summer, and school next year, and where I had been for the past three weeks.  I told her I was helping my mom clean the house and didn’t have time to go anywhere else.  I tried to leave, but she kept talking and talking and talking.  What a blabber mouth, I thought.
 
Finally, she heard her father calling for the paper since he was late for work.  As I turned to leave, Francine remarked about the large, growing wet spot on my rear.  I told her I must have sat in a puddle of water somewhere and turned to go.  She giggled a bit as she told me it looked just like I had wet my pants.  If only she knew how right she was.  I feared she really knew the truth.
 
I was just about finished when at last I turned to my street to get home.  As I ran for my house, my friend Joe stopped me on the sidewalk.  He kept badgering me about where I had been, why I hadn’t called, what happened to our friendship, and stuff like that.  I tried to tell him the same story I gave to Francine, but Joe wasn’t listening to me.  He kept going on and on about what kind of a friend wouldn’t call or come over.  I protested, but it seemed in vain.
 
I didn’t want Joe to see my backside, but I didn’t realize I had begun to leak in the front as well.  Joe looked down at my crotch and noticed the wet mark on my jeans.  He laughed and asked me if I had wet my pants or something.  I tried to tell him the story about sitting in a puddle when two more friends came out of Joe’s house.  They had stayed overnight.  Frank and Eddie joined Joe on the sidewalk and by this time, Joe was really grilling me over my wet jeans.  Unfortunately for me, my jeans showed a little bulge in my seat and Joe was convinced I had something under my jeans I was trying to hide.  What was I hiding under my pants?  Was I wearing diapers?  They wanted me to show them, but I refused.  Realizing they meant what they said, I got scared.
 
I turned to run, but the guys soon caught up to me.  They tackled me and while someone held my arms, the other two began to try to take my pants off.  I fought hard, but three against one isn’t an easy fight.  Soon, they had removed my pants and held them up in victory.  Everyone there could see I was wearing my nighttime cloth diapers and plastic panties.  To make matters even worse, my mom had just gotten me a pair of pink animal print panties to wear the night before.  Now that the guys had gotten my jeans, I was pretty much left to stand there in nothing more than my tee shirt, thoroughly wet diapers, plastic pants and socks.

They began pushing me around in a circle all the while taunting me.  Did sissy baby wet her diapers?  Does she need a change?  Does she need her baba?  Does mommy know her little girl is so wet? And it didn’t just end with taunting.  They all took turns holding me while the others felt my soggy bottom.  Then, Frank and Eddie held me face down while Joe spanked my wet bottom right on the plastic pants and diapers.  Bad girl!  Bad little girl!  How could you wet yourself?  Finally, there was a moment when they released their grip and I managed to escape.  I ran as fast as I could
 
They chased after me the whole way.  Luckily,  I made it to my door first and burst into the house, ran to my room, and collapsed on my crib sobbing in deep humiliation.  My mom came in and asked what had happened.  As I began my tale of woe, the doorbell rang.  Joe and the guys wanted to drop my jeans and gym shoes off.  I could hear them laughing as my sister took the items, and thanked the boys for their thoughtfulness.  My mom hugged me while I cried and cried.  I began to think of how I could explain this to the guys, but my mom said it was about time I had my bath.  Later that day, I heard her call the newspaper company and tell them I had resigned the route.  My mom took the blame for me, but I would no longer need to leave the house to deliver papers. 

One thing was for certain, though.  I would not need to ever leave the house for a long time to come.  I somehow felt good about that.  I thought it would be pleasant to just stay home and not have to worry about anyone seeing my wet diapers. Just then, I realized what I had thought!  Had I regressed this far?

[jamiep]

I Am the Family’s New Little Baby Girl - Part 11
 
About three weeks had gone by and although my friends had stopped by to “see” me, my mom told them I could not have visitors.  She told them I was sick with a real bad illness, and I could hear them laughing as they left out of earshot of my mom.  They remarked that I must have gotten a touch of some kind of baby illness – one that makes me wear diapers all the time.  Their laughter hurt more than anything I had been through up until now.  In any case, my friends now knew the secret behind the closed doors.  I imagined they would be peeking over the fence now trying to see if anything else was going on.  I shuddered to think what might happen if my sister ever told me I had to go out and play in the yard or worse, play in the pool.
 
One night, my parents decided to go out to dinner and a movie.  They asked my sister to baby sit her little sister and she readily agreed, especially since they offered to pay her extra.  As my parents were getting ready to go, mom told me to get into my playpen until my sister could get my dinner ready.  Sis took me to the family room, opened up the gate to my pen, allowed me to crawl in, and locked the gate behind me.  Then she went to the kitchen to get me some kind of dinner and I was sure I wasn’t going to like it.  All of my new toys were now stored in the playpen, so I could play with anything and usually did just to avoid the arguments.
 
As soon as my parents were ready to leave, they came into the family room to say goodbye.  Mom bent over to give me a kiss and hug and as she did, she sniffed the air.  She announced in a loud voice to my sister that somebody needed a change and soon.  Then she and my dad lectured me on the necessity of behaving for my baby sitter or there would be hell to pay when they got home.  However, since this was a special occasion, I would be allowed to stay up past my usual early bedtime, so I should consider it a special treat.
 
Almost as soon as my parents left, my sister was on the phone.  I couldn’t hear too much, but what I heard kind of scared me.  She was inviting a few friends over for the evening.  When she eventually got off the phone, I told her what I overheard.  First, I got a lecture about talking only in baby talk and second, I got a lecture on keeping quiet or she would tell my parents I misbehaved.  I argued a little bit with her, but when she threatened to call Francine and invite her and a few of my other friends as well, I decided to keep quiet.  I really believed she would do it just to be mean.  Then, sis changed my diaper, gave me a bottle of formula and a bottle of juice, and told me to drink it all down fast - we were going to have a party!
 
About a half of an hour later, the doorbell rang.  I heard the voices of several girls as my sister answered the door and a few of them were very familiar voices.  These girls had been here before, so they knew me quite well.  My sister brought her friends into the family room and introduced them to her new, baby sister.  Recognizing me, they all began to laugh and then coo to me in an awkward kind of baby talk.  My sister unlocked my gate, and a couple of the girls all got into my large pen to play with me.  A few others made me play as if I were a real baby pushing toys at me, talking gibberish, and otherwise humiliating me.
 
I soon became aware I had wet myself again and so did the girls.  They all giggled, shook their heads, or clicked their teeth.  One girl even began to shake her finger at me and told me what a bad baby girl I was to have wet myself around company.  The worst part was when my sister had the bright idea to get a deck of cards.  Each girl would draw one card and the highest card would get to change my diaper.  They all were excited, but since my sister had already had the luxury of already changing me for more than three weeks, she “graciously” bowed out of the contest.  Some girl named Melinda won the task.  I was pretty thankful, however, that I hadn’t had another bowel movement as well.
 
Sis got out all of the supplies – changing pad, baby wipes, nighttime cloth diapers (mom made them triple thick), adult-sized plastic panties, diaper rash ointment, lotion, baby powder, animal shaped safety pins and, of course, my baby doll nightie.  Melinda and the girls all giggled at the sight of all of this and while sis left to room to go into the kitchen, Melinda got down to the job of changing me. So they would have memories of their night, the girls took sis’s digital camera and they were sure to get some nice pictures of my dilemma.
 
She carefully guided the changing pad under me as I lifted my backside for her and she quickly removed my wet diapers.  Then she took out several wipes and thoroughly cleaned my crotch and rear end.  Before she could apply anything else, she guided the nighttime diapers under my rear as I once again helped out by lifting my rear for her.  Then she applied a good amount of diaper rash ointment all over the area to be diapered.  She also added a large portion of lotion and finally powder to the same area.  She pinned one side of the diapers and pulling the other two corners rather tightly around my waist, pinned the other side.  Finishing off, she snaked a pair of plastic panties up my legs and as I again lifted my rear, fitted them snugly around the diapers so that no cloth peeked out.
 
Now the girls were going to have some more fun watching as Melinda would dress me for bed.  Holding out the ruffled bottoms, she motioned for me to step into the panties.  As I did, she very slowly pulled them up and over my diapers.  The speed at which she did this told me she wanted to prolong my suffering.  Then, the girls had a bright idea.  Before she put on my top, one of the girls took some time to remove her bra without removing her shirt.  Laughing all the while, she “donated” her bra for my “costume.”  All the girls were laughing pretty loudly as sis finally returned to the room.  Seeing what the girls were up to, she put whatever was in her hand down on the end table and as she, too, laughed. She then ran out of the room saying to wait, she’d be right back.
 
She returned in a few minutes with some pairs of her socks and the girls all took turns stuffing them into the cups of the bra.  I now was wearing a bra with a very large cleavage.  Melinda finally held up the top and I slid my arms into the armholes and she very, very slowly lowered it onto my body.  Now, it was makeup time, I was told and in a few short minutes, I was again fully made up with blush, eye shadow, eye liner, lipstick, mascara, and a full set of nails polished.
 
My sis then went over to the end table and picked up what she had brought in earlier – another baby bottle full of formula.  Again, the girls drew cards to see who would feed me and the loser would get to tuck me in my crib.  Melinda bowed out “gracefully” as she was the one who got the change my diaper and get the little girl ready for “beddie-bye.”  A girl named Joanne won this time, gleefully took the bottle, and jumped onto the couch.  Sis told me to get up on the couch too and lie down with my head on Joanne’s lap.  I did as I was told and as Joanne teased me with the nipple of the bottle, Melinda was gladly taking pictures of the whole affair.  Joanne finally “let” me take the nipple into my mouth and I began to suc-k the bottle and continued until it was empty.
 
The last girl, Fran, then had me crawl down the hall into my room.  As I crawled, she took delight in patting my bottom with every movement.  When we arrived in my room, she lowered the side of the crib, let me crawl in, put teddy into my arms, shoved my pacifier into my mouth and covered me up.  The girls then got down to the business of singing me laughing lullabies.  As they did this, and like before during the entire evening, someone took pictures with sis’s digital camera.  Sis told the girls it was getting late, asked them to leave the room, and said she wanted to tell her little sister goodnight privately.
 
When the girls had left, sis came over to me and whispered softly.  She told me that if I breathed a word of what happened tonight, she would take the digital picture card, download all of the pictures on to her personal web site, and tell all of my friends how to access the site so they could all see the truth about what really goes on with her new little sister.  She looked at me rather triumphantly, smiled an evil little grin, let out an evil giggle, and then left the room and closed the door.  As I lay there in the dark, I hear the girls all laughing wildly down in the family room.  I knew they were looking at all of the pictures they had taken tonight on my sister’s laptop.  In the privacy of my room, I finally had the opportunity to finally let go of all my pent up feelings and cried myself to sleep. 

I used to like my sister in a kind of “I like my sister, but won’t ever say it” kind of way.  Yet tonight, she crossed that line of how a sister and a brother should relate to each other.  I vowed to get even, if I ever could.  But what could I do now?  My life was really a mess and it was all my own doing.

[jamiep]

I Am the Family’s New Little Baby Girl - Part 12

One Saturday morning, my mom dressed me in my usual very thick nighttime cloth diapers and a new pair of pink plastic panties.  It was early in the morning and I could not figure out why she was not having me wear the usual disposables.  She then pulled out some new pure white opaque tights I had seen my sister wear from time to time, but these were new in a package especially for me.  She snaked them up my legs and over my diapers and pink plastic panties. 

Then, she brought out an especially frilly, pink dress with matching rhumba style panties that had at least five rows of lace across the seat.  She first made me step into the panties and she pulled them up and fussed with the fit.  The dress slipped over my outstretched arms and as soon as she was satisfied with the fit, she buttoned up the back.  The dress fluffed out more than usual with all of the extra petticoat material she added to the underside.  And since it was so stiff and scratchy, I had a hard time keeping from scratching myself.  This made my mom fuss even more than usual.  I could not figure out why.  She finally added laced ankle socks and black Mary Jane shoes and told me to go downstairs.  I had dreamt of this day, but never this way - not with my mom dressing me this way.  No, that’s not how I dreamt it to ever be.

Then, as we headed down for breakfast, she announced that I would need to very careful when I ate my breakfast since it was picture day.  What?  Picture day?  What’s that?

My parents had scheduled a professional photographer to take a family portrait that day - right in the backyard!!  This was also news to my sister who announced she didn’t want to be in the picture with her sissy brother and his new dress.  She’d die of embarrassment.  I almost wanted to tell my parents about the night sis brought all of her friends over, but I held my tongue.  After all, sis still had pictures of me and had threatened many times to post them if I ever breathed a word about it.  Eventually, my parents convinced my sister to be in the picture.  It would not be a family portrait without her in it, they said.

It was soon after breakfast that the doorbell rang.  My parents went to the door together and warmly welcomed the photographer.  As my mom and dad walked into the living room to introduce the family, this lovely, young, very shapely woman walked in behind them carrying a couple of large cases I assumed were full of equipment.  By this time, sis had me “all made up” with a couple of pink satin bows in my hair for the photo shoot.  The woman walked over to me and made a lot of fuss about how cute a little girl I was and how darling my dress was. She never let on I was a boy and considering the job my sister did on my make-up, she probably didn’t know.  But I always had a sneaking suspicion she really knew and was kind enough to say nothing.

The experience in the backyard was a long and humiliating one.  We spent about 3 hours moving from place to place trying to get that perfect picture.  About halfway through the shoot, I had already been wet about an hour, but I had a bowel movement as well.  Sis was the first to notice and mentioned it to mom.  My mom announced that the baby needed to be changed and went into the house to get the supplies.  The photographer took that time to check her voice mails and went into the house with her notebook.

My mom came out with my new diaper bag for this kind of stuff.  She carefully laid out the changing pad on the picnic table on the deck and I knew what I had to do.  As she began to remove my panties and plastic panties, I swore I heard giggling.  As she removed my diaper and commented on the mess I had made and what a bad little girl I had been, I heard the giggling again.  Mom began to wipe my groin area and this time I was sure I heard laughter.

I looked to my left, I could see at least eight of my former friends peeking through the bushes.  Joe and Francine had hands over their mouths trying hard not to break laughing out loud.  As I began to cry, my mom scolded me about ruining my make-up.  She finished changing me, put a new pair of pink plastic animal print panties over my thick diapers, and pulled up the rhumba panties.  It was then my friends broke out laughing out loud and scattered.  As they ran away, I heard a few of them shout out how cute the sissy looked.  I began to cry harder, but my parents and sister stifled some giggles and that hurt a lot more than what my friends said.

 I had a hard time for the rest of the shoot, but eventually relaxed enough to manage a smile for a few of the pictures.  It didn’t help, however, when the photographer stooped to baby toys that squeaked to get me to smile.  I felt so helpless when everyone worked to get the “baby” to smile.   It wasn’t bad enough for my own family to treat me like a baby girl, but when the photographer announced she had worked with much smaller babies that were a lot easier to get to smile, I could have screamed.  All of this time, you see, I had only managed to talk the required baby talk.  How I wanted to disappear into another world or at least to another family.  Better yet, if I really was a baby girl, then this wouldn’t be so bad.  But I wasn’t, and here I was, and here I’ll stay.
 
So that’s how my summer has been up until now.  So here I am sitting in the middle of our family room in that very large playpen that my dad made especially for me.  And I now spend my days playing with old baby toys and dressing and undressing an endless procession of my sister’s old dollies she gladly donated to the cause.  I have been wearing diapers 24/7 and my family is still calling me mommy’s new little baby girl, Baby Sammy.  I still haven’t gotten used to it and I still find it hard to understand why my family has decided to do this, but I think my punishment will soon be over.  After all, it’s mid-August and school starts in a little over a week.  My punishment cannot possibly last forever, can it?

At least that was what I thought until my mom came into the family room and happily announced that her new little girl will start being home schooled in the fall.  It was all arranged with the school administration and I would spend my eighth grade at home.   This way, she said, the family can help me to continue to realize me dream of being a little baby girl without interruption.  The news hit me right between the eyes, but instead of crying, I began to laugh.  In fact, I began to laugh so hard that I once again began uncontrollably wetting my diapers. 
 
I guess I am such a lucky girl!  What more could I have asked for?  Mom was right about one thing - the family, like all good families do, was only helping me to fulfill my fondest wish to become the baby girl I wanted to be.  So I suppose I will have to put up with being the family baby for a while longer. 
 
After all, it’s really what I wished for all along, isn’t it? 

The End