Conversion to Baby Girl by Christy Tindy

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Conversion to Baby Girl by Christy Tindy (1998)

part 1

I used to be a normal man; a regular guy. '68 metallic blue Corvette, motorcycle, lots of dating. Now, I'm a 33 year old sissy, in diapers all the time, totally incontinent. I only wear baby-style dresses or rompers. I haven't worn a pair of pants or shorts since my conversion over 5 years ago. I drink from a bottle, straw, or tippy cup. My main meals are of toddler style baby food. I sleep in a crib and use a pacifier. I don't drive anymore. As a matter of fact, I don't even have any identification, checks, or credit cards anymore.

I met Jennifer through a personal ad I had placed in the community newspaper. I had been through a string of several women where the relationships never developed. I was looking the proverbial "meaningful" relationship. We met for dinner and immediately hit it off well. She was very attractive, very pleasant though somewhat reserved. She opened up more and more after every date. We made love on our fifth date. She was terrific and adventurous. Before long I was confessing all of my little fantasies to her. The "mommy/baby" game was only one of several, but she opened up to that one quickly. She made it clear that she would become my mommy…

My mommy takes great care of me. All she requires of me is to take care of the house for her: cooking, cleaning, laundry; very domestic. Believe me, I never thought I would ever even know how to take care of a house much less turn on a iron and use it properly in order to make straight pleats in dresses or iron a silk blouse for mommy. I manage very well now thanks to a lot of help and efforts from mommy and some of her friends. No one would have ever guessed that I would become the pretty little housekeeper that I am.

When we first started playing our game, we just played the simple mommy punishes bad baby boy scenario. She moved on to diapers for me by the third time we played. At first I was repulsed with her demands that I use a diaper. Feeling that tight bulk between my legs was uncomfortable. The plastic pants made me sweat. Peeing in them was hard unless she stroked me to orgasm first. She would call me diaper boy; very humiliating but also oddly stimulating. After a few times playing she begin teasing me with the diaper boy name in odd places like a restaurant or in the middle of the mall. I went along with it because, at the time, all I wanted was to get into her panties. Jennifer decided to take complete control very soon thereafter…

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Part 2

I used to be a normal man. Now, my entire body, face, hands, arms, legs and pubic area are completely hairless; permanently removed. I have two very nice little breasts of my own, I wear a 38 B-cup bra, thanks to the long-term hormonal treatments. They're real, they're soft and firm; they bounce if I run. My used-to-be pen-is is tucked between my legs, a small ring in the shaft and another near my anus are padlocked together most nearly all the time. When I'm especially good Mommy will unlock it and give me some pleasure. When people see me they see all girl, pink, soft, and feminine. They may think I dress very juvenile, but they think I'm a "her" nonetheless.

Probably my main attraction to Jennifer at the time was that I loved to suc-k on her tits whenever I could. As we begin playing more often, she would only let me "nurse" (as she would refer to it) when I was infantile. She even went so far as to buy nursing bras to wear. Watching her unbutton her blouse, unsnap her cups and peal them down to expose those luscious babies were worth every second in a cold wet diaper. If I would become amorous at times when we weren't playing, I could do almost anything to her but she wouldn't let me suc-k on her tits; not unless I wore my diapers. Guess who wore diapers more and more often?

I'll bet you're wondering if I ever go out, especially looking like a baby. Well, almost all of my dresses are very short, baby style. That is, the length in only down to my crotch. In those dresses, you can clearly see my ruffled bottom most of the time. However, when we go out, and I never go alone, Mommy lets me wear longer dresses, mainly to avoid lots of unnecessary questions. They're still very girlish styles, but otherwise I'm just another girl out with her mother.

Jennifer began introducing various other baby items or mannerisms to me almost each time we played. A bottle of formula at bedtime (was that ever hard to get used to!), to babyish diaper covers, to a bib at the dinner table, to nighttime diapers every night. Why didn't I stop? Well, it was all in small increments, she made it so much fun and so worthwhile. To lie in her lap night after night, right after work, suc-king on her wonderful breast while she stroked me. Who wouldn't? I moved in with her.
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Mommy has made or bought probably over 3-dozen diapers covers for me. Every one of them in plastic lined and every one of them has ruffles to some degree or another. Most of my daily dresses I wear at home are also covered in various ruffles, and bows too. All of my clothes are satin, nylon, velvet, organza, etc., most all of the soft, silky, and feminine fabrics. The only fabric I never wear is cotton, with the exception of the layers and layers of diapers, of course. "Only cotton cloth diapers for baby." She even had my footed sleepers and nighties made from satin; sometimes I can never stay in the middle of the crib, I end sliding over against the bars when I move around a lot.

When Jennifer was satisfied that I would do almost anything for her, she introduced the first of my ruffled diaper covers. Up until then it had just been baby boy stuff, T-shirts and cotton diaper covers with patterns of teddy bears or ducks. She set it all up so that when she brought them out I was in no mood to disagree. I remember that night vividly. She had candles burning when I got home from work that Friday night, lights turned low, soft music playing. She had bought a new satin nursing bra; I know this because she had a sheer blouse on. I started pawing at her but she reminded me that I needed to change first. I went immediately into our bedroom and lay on the bed as had become our ritual. She changed me into diapers and plastic pants. Back on the couch and she let me suc-k up a storm and I had a fantastic orgasm. She got up, and I remember this so well, she pulled out this magnificent pink diaper cover, all satin and covered with ruffles. I was jelly in her hands, though not my pen-is; I had a second fantastic orgasm within minutes of her putting the fabulous pants on me and several more throughout the night and even the next morning in my very wet diaper. If I had gone soft she would start rubbing the satin or the ruffles and before long she would be helping me get off again. You can say she stroked me like a violin; I fell hook, line, and sinker for my new diaper covers.

part 3

Mommy has made or bought probably over 3-dozen diapers covers for me. Every one of them in plastic lined and every one of them has ruffles to some degree or another. Most of my daily dresses I wear at home are also covered in various ruffles, and bows too. All of my clothes are satin, nylon, velvet, organza, etc., most all of the soft, silky, and feminine fabrics. The only fabric I never wear is cotton, with the exception of the layers and layers of diapers, of course. "Only cotton cloth diapers for baby." She even had my footed sleepers and nighties made from satin; sometimes I can never stay in the middle of the crib, I end sliding over against the bars when I move around a lot.

When Jennifer was satisfied that I would do almost anything for her, she introduced the first of my ruffled diaper covers. Up until then it had just been baby boy stuff, T-shirts and cotton diaper covers with patterns of teddy bears or ducks. She set it all up so that when she brought them out I was in no mood to disagree. I remember that night vividly. She had candles burning when I got home from work that Friday night, lights turned low, soft music playing. She had bought a new satin nursing bra; I know this because she had a sheer blouse on. I started pawing at her but she reminded me that I needed to change first. I went immediately into our bedroom and lay on the bed as had become our ritual. She changed me into diapers and plastic pants. Back on the couch and she let me suc-k up a storm and I had a fantastic orgasm. She got up, and I remember this so well, she pulled out this magnificent pink diaper cover, all satin and covered with ruffles. I was jelly in her hands, though not my pen-is; I had a second fantastic orgasm within minutes of her putting the fabulous pants on me and several more throughout the night and even the next morning in my very wet diaper. If I had gone soft she would start rubbing the satin or the ruffles and before long she would be helping me get off again. You can say she stroked me like a violin; I fell hook, line, and sinker for my new diaper covers.

Conversion to Baby Girl, pt. 4

Mommy likes me to show my bare legs as much as possible. She says little girls legs are so cute and compliment the dresses and the shoes. Unless it's cold and I wear tights, my legs are bare all the time: from the ruffled leg bands on my diaper covers to the tops of my fold-over ruffled socks and Mary Janes. The short baby-style dresses ensure that my legs are seen. Mommy insists I take a bath with body oils every night plus I apply lotion to my legs and body after drying off. I never lay out in the sun. If I am going to be outside, mommy makes sure I stay under a large umbrella and that I wear number 30 protection all over. My skin is silky smooth and pink.

It wasn't much longer after introducing me to feminine clothes that Jennifer began insisting that I call her mommy. She begin to keep closer tabs on me, where I was at all times, especially right after work. She began requiring me to wear diapers all the time while I was at home. I couldn't refuse. First of all, I loved the attention and sex I was getting. Secondly, if I did refuse any of her requests she would get mad, pout, and ignore me. The only way I could get her out of that mood was to go change myself into a very girly outfit; then she'd fuss all over me. I wanted to please her; it was intoxicating.

I love it when Mommy fixes my hair. I haven't cut it since before I met her and she now takes me every few months to get a new perm. She likes it very curly and doesn't want them to cut it. It's down to below my shoulders now, even with the curls. When Mommy does it, she'll style it and comb it different ways finishing with a bow to match my dress or a hair band or, many times, barrettes. I can brush into a nice neat look, but I haven't figured out how to style it like Mommy does yet.

One of the defining moments in my conversion to infant girlhood was the first time I pooped my diaper in public at the mall. One Saturday Jennifer got me dressed in a beige bib overall with a onesie and diapers underneath. She was teasing and daring me as she dressed me to be "man" enough to let her be in control. She convinced me that the outfit was masculine and that no one else would know what was underneath. She was just erotic enough that I fell for that one too, hook, line, and sinker all over again. Having her lead me to the car and seatbelt me in felt very weird, I felt like I was an invalid. Once at the mall everything was fine for the first hour or so, but when we got to the food court and had sat down with our lunches I begin to need to poop. I got up to excuse myself to go to the nearest bathroom and Jennifer asked what I was up to. After explaining I didn't want to mess my pants while we were out, she got up and stood in front of me. She took my hands in hers and looked me straight in the eyes. She told me that this was my chance to really be a baby, to let go and be free from the confines of adulthood. She had me look around and nobody was paying much attention. There were a few young mothers around trying to get their kids to eat. After a bit of coxing, I relented and begin pressing. Of course, I had to push a bit to get it to come out. Little by little out it came, pressing against the diaper. I finally finished and Jennifer gave me a great big hug and congratulations. A woman a few tables behind her had noticed me by now and had a sly smile on her face; her baby was turning red pressing his load out too. I was utterly embarrassed, and now turned bright red yet again. Jennifer insisted we sit down and finish our lunch; I only wanted to get out of there fast. Of course, I wasn't about to try making her mad. I sat down to a very squishy mess across my rear. I could feel the poop ooze in my crack and around the folds of the diaper. But, I had done it. There I was, I fully grown man eating lunch in the middle of the shopping mall, having pooped in his pants in front of everyone without (most) anyone knowing about it. Humiliating, disgusting, liberating.

It took awhile before I got used to using only my diapers, especially messing in them. For the first few weeks of being in them full time it always found it difficult to poop. But as I used diapers more and more it became more natural, normal. I still find it difficult to poop while sitting in a chair, but I can poop now anytime, while walking, browsing through the stores, while doing my chores. The only time it's really a problem is when I smell after; I can get really funny looks from people around me.

part 5

Any little girl needs to accessorize, and Mommy made sure I had lots of piercings in my ears to hold all kind of different earrings. One pair I always wear is pink pearl studs. All the others vary with Mommy's or my mood, I usually end up with 3 pairs of earrings at a time because we can't seem to settle on just one pair. Between my earrings, the bow in my hair, and a princess necklace, I am always properly accessorized. It's fun to change from a pink dress to a lavender dress and change the accessories to match. I'm always amazed at how different I look in another color.

I was hooked, and Jennifer knew it. The more she dressed me, the more I allowed her to, the more I liked it, and the more I wanted it. Somewhere during this time we stopped making love but I never noticed as I was getting plenty without being inside her. She began putting dresses and other feminine things on me whenever I was home, getting my ears pierced, styling my hair every weekend. The only time I wore normal "man" clothes was to go to work. It was sort of a dead-end job and I was only staying to have money in my pocket. As I was living with Jennifer and she paid all of the bills I didn't really need much. I'll give her credit, Jennifer is a very patient woman. She waited until I'd had a few bad days at work, nothing special, just the normal fed up with being there kind of stuff. She sat me down one night and made the offer: "Live with me, live full time as a baby girl, and I only ask that you take care of the house, like a housewife would."

I have a dozen pinafore aprons to wear over my dresses while I do my chores. They tie behind me in a great big bow as the sash is very wide. Not only do I do all of Mommy's clothes and lingerie, but I must do my own as well. I take complete care of the house, one day doing dusting in several rooms, the next day vacuuming, and then moving on to other rooms. I cycle through the complete house about every two weeks. When I'm not too busy I'll sit in front of my makeup table and practice applying my makeup. After several years I have got all of the fundamentals down really well such as getting my eyeliner straight and now I am practicing little things like shading and different tones depending on my mood and my dresses.

Conversion to Baby Girl, pt. 6

I didn't find out until much later that the conversion of me to baby girl had been Jennifer's master plan. When she had answered my personal ad so long ago, she had been looking for a man to become her slave. She wanted someone to dominate, someone to take care of the things she wasn't interested in such as housework. She had always kept an immaculate house, but she felt it was beneath her. She wanted to pour her energy into her career, not into washing dishes. Along came me, looking for some direction, looking for someone to take care of me (although I didn't realize it at the time). Once I had began telling her about my fantasies of the mommy/baby game, she quickly revised her plan to feminize me and make me infantile so that I was dependant on her. In that state she reasoned that I would be too timid to break away from her. She would take care of me, and I would be hers for life.

Jennifer had made a big show of moving my male clothes to a trunk in the garage but she threw those out after a period of time without me ever knowing. She started putting estrogen patches in the middle of my back when dressing me, telling me how wonderful I'd feel after awhile. My dresses all button up the back so I couldn't really mess with the patches. I began to cry for seemingly simple reasons; my breasts begin to swell. One day I looked around me and realized I was completely effeminate; there was no male side of me anymore. I panicked at first, wanting to rip everything off and run out of the house. After pacing, crying, and fretting about it for several hours it finally dawned on me that I was partially trapped; the only clothes I had were little girls clothes, I couldn't go around more than 10 minutes without diapers or I'd have an accident, I didn't have any ID, cash, or transportation. It would have been easy enough to leave, although embarrassing. I could get the pen-is lock cut off. I could beg, borrow, or steal some new clothes, buy some Attends until I could get potty trained again. But, how would I explain: the incontinence, the breasts, the hairless body? How would I face people? I wasn't man enough to leave. I felt absolutely defeated at that moment.

Mommy can always sense if I'm not my normal self. She'll immediately take steps to turn me around. She'll find very pretty outfits to wear for both of us, she'll change me taking lots of extra care and attention, especially to my diaper area. She'll undo the lock on my pen-is and powder me all over. She'll get me dressed and take me to the couch to get me all snuggled up in her lap. She'll tell me stories about how pretty I am and what a beautiful princess I could be. I nurse and she rubs me in wonderful places until I drift off to sleep.

Conversion to Baby Girl, pt. 7

About a week after turning my mood around Jennifer brought me some papers to sign. She told me they were kind of like a pre-nuptial agreement. I signed them eagerly, more than happy to become her spouse (Husband? No. Wife? Not exactly.) It wasn't until a few weeks later when nothing else had been mentioned that I brought up the subject of when she thought we'd be married. She laughed at me, although she loved the idea of seeing me in a wedding dress. No, she explained, why would she ever let me put my wet little thingy inside of her? She told me how disgusting that would be for mommy and baby to be that way. No, she was to take care of me. The papers were power of attorney and financial papers. It turns out that I signed my entire world over to her; everything I had owned had become hers. She had promptly closed my bank accounts. Before I had ever realized, Jennifer had been busy the last few weeks selling my car, bike and other possessions. She explained that I was hers, that she was responsible for me. I no longer had any identity outside of the house. I was a non-person. I became and am a sissy slave.

Mommy gives me pills so I feel good all the time now. I love being pampered, and diapered too. I love my life, my pretty dresses, my wonderful room. Mommy has a very nice girlfriend now that she sees regularly. She's nice to me and even baby-sits me occasionally. I try to write when I can so I don't forget how to read and write. There's so many things that I don't remember anymore. The only things I really care about are taking care of the house for Mommy and Mommy taking care of me; especially when she changes my wet diapers for clean dry ones. I always end up kicking my feet in the air because I'm so happy. I love it when she puts me to bed, getting me ready, helping me into my sleeper. Mommy fixes my hair on the pillow, kisses me goodnite, gives me my pacifier, pulls the crib side up until it clicks making me feel snug and secure, and turns out the light.



Acknowledgements:
I would like to thank the following for providing me with hours of fun and fantasy as well as inspiration, comfort, and support.

Mary Beth Sanford
Daphne's
Suzy at Echo Productions
Bytemine
GirlTalk
Petticoat Discipline Monthly by Miss Susan MacDonald
DPF
And the many other personal home pages of Sissies and AB's like me.