Thanks everyone! And you're totally right, lovellace. There is definitely still much further for Emily to go.
CHAPTER NINETEEN: BABY’S FIRST BATHTIME
After all the shocks and changes that today had brought, Emily thought that he had exhausted his capacity for surprise. But the sight of his nursery’s newly remodeled bathroom somehow managed to push him past his blunted, devastated numbness. As he crawled into the room on all fours, behind his Mommy, his pacifier fell out of his mouth and he gasped.
“Isn’t it amazing, baby girl?” Melissa asked. “And it’s all for you! Since you’re in diapers now--and since you’ll be in them for the rest of your life--there’s really no need for you to have a traditional bathroom, now is there? I’d figured we’d gut the whole thing and knock down walls and add the space to your nursery, but Dr. Thurman has thought of everything, and she reminded me that my baby girl still needs a place to get sparkling clean, even if she doesn’t need a toilet.”
The toilet was indeed gone, totally and entirely. The floor was soft lavender tile with gleaming white grout, and the walls were white paneling to about standing waist-height and then matching pale lavender paint above. The bathtub and shower were gone too. In the middle of the room stood a raised platform, a bit like a kitchen island: its sides were also lavender tile (with several drawers built into it), and its top was white marble. It stood just below the height of his mother’s waist, and embedded in the white marble was what looked like a large, white, porcelain bowl. It was open at the top, and inside the bowl-shape was a chair back, reclined at an angle, as well as many straps and restraints. Emily could not make sense of it immediately.
“Come on, baby girl,” Melissa cooed, as she lead her crawling daughter near to a pair of lavender plastic little kids’ steps at the base of the raised platform. “It’s my precious baby girl’s first bath time in her brand new baby bath.”
Emily, numb with shock, stood up and struggled to process the fact that his mommy had had the toilet removed from his bathroom. Melissa sat on the small plastic steps and directed Emily to stand between her spread thighs. From there, she began undressing Emily: dress then shoes then socks then plastic panties all came off. Keeping one guiding hand on Emily’s upper thigh at all times, Melissa roughly folded the clothes and put them aside for later. Finally, with Emily still standing, she removed his wet diaper. Emily winced with embarrassment as he stood naked in front of his mother (save for his chastity cage and the matching lavender barrette in his hair). He couldn’t help but notice that his Mommy looked proud when she saw how soaked the diaper was before she tossed it into a nearby diaper pail. Then she rose and, explaining nothing, guided Emily up onto the small plastic steps while she held his hand. From there, using cloying babytalk and gentle but firm pressure with her hands, she guided Emily to get on all fours on top of the raised island. She then had Emily crawl into what had, from his view on the floor, looked like a bowl sticking out of the top of the island. As he crawled into it, he saw small drains in its base and realized it was some sort of a very short, very shallow bathtub. She positioned him so that he was face-up, with his back against the inclined chair back.
There’s no toilet, Emily thought as Melissa had him put his knees up and his feet flat on the ground, which was the only way his body fit inside the bowl-like basin. There’s no toilet, he thought. None. At all. She had it removed. That had to be expensive. And a strange request. And she did it anyway. She really did that. She really doesn’t imagine that I’m going to use a toilet . . . ever again.
As the enormity of that fact broke like a heavy wave over Emily’s mind, he sat limply, numb and not resisting as Melissa adjusted a series of straps and restraints: one thick one across his chest, then wrist straps that held his arms down, and then thigh and ankle straps that immobilized his legs. “Head back, baby girl,” Melissa cooed, making sure Emily’s head was flush against the headrest on the chair before she ran a strap across Emily’s forehead, securing his head in place. “All safe and secure. No risk Mommy’s baby girl is going to fall out of her bath now, is there?”
Emily felt a spike of panic rising in his chest. He was totally captive and totally immobile. The height of the island he was sitting on top of put him slightly higher than waist height on his Mommy, who could easily stand next to the island and reach down to him.
“Stop,” Melissa said, noticing Emily struggling against his restraints. “Just stop. Mommy knows this is strange. Mommy knows you don’t understand yet. Mommy knows her sweet baby girl wishes Mommy would explain what’s going on. But Mommy’s baby girl doesn’t need to know what’s going on because Mommy’s baby girl doesn’t need to think. Sssssshhh. You don’t need to know. You don’t deserve to have anything explained to you because you’re just a baby and all baby needs to know is that her Mommy loves her so much. So stop thinking. Stop trying to talk or complain or object. Just nurse your pacifier and know that Mommy knows best. Besides, sweetie, baby might really come to like some things about her bath.”
Melissa reached behind Emily and Emily heard knobs turning. She then startled a little within her restraints as she realized that the basin she was secured in had begun slowly filling up with warm water. It was filling from underneath as the drains she’d seen in the base of the basin were now bubbling up with a gentle flow of warm water. Before Emily could adjust to the water, she had another shock: her Mommy reached down the front of her top, pulling out a necklace chain that had been nestled down in her cleavage. At the end of this chain was a key, and much to Emily’s embarrassment and relief, Melissa used the key to unlock Emily’s chastity.
“There we go . . . ”, Melissa cooed as she slipped Emily’s cage off. “When Mommy’s baby girl is alllllllll nice and safe and restrained and when Mommy is here to supervise, well then Mommy’s baby girl can be out of her cage for bathtime. After all, what kind of a Mommy would Mommy be if Mommy let her sweet little snookykins not get totally clean during bathtime?”
Much to Emily’s dismay, his small pen-is erected immediately after it was freed from its chastity cage. Emily wasn’t turned on by his mother, and it was humiliating to be aching and throbbing and dripping in front of her, but his tiny weiner seemed to have a mind of its own. It was free from restraint so rarely anymore that, regardless of Emily’s feelings about the matter, it seemed determined to make the most of the brief freedom it was allotted.
Looking down at Emily and seeing a rope of pre-c-um drooling from his pen-is, Melissa frowned and sighed heavily. “Well, that’s not very ladylike, is it?” Not waiting for an answer from her still pacified daughter, Melissa turned the water jets off when the water level was just over Emily’s restrained ankles. “There we go,” she purred, getting a fluffy lavender washcloth and soaking it in the warm water before ringing it out over Emily’s bare chest. “Now, you just relax and enjoy your bath time, sweetheart. Mommy’s going to take care of everything.”
What could I take care of, Emily wondered, even if I wanted to? While the restraint running over his forehead was in no way painful, it was snug, and it prevented him from turning his head. The wrist, ankle, and chest straps were equally snug. He wasn’t going anywhere, and he couldn’t do anything except lay back against the back support and nurse his pacifier. He found the position he was in--back inclined, knees up, feet flat, legs spread so that all of his private parts were on open display--humiliating, but like everything else that had happened to him today, he had no say about it whatsoever. For the next many minutes, a near-silence set in as Melissa hummed a lullaby to herself while she worked: repeatedly wetting parts of Emily’s body down, then lathering those wet parts with gentle, no-tears soap. Reaching into the shallow well of water Emily was sitting in, Melissa re-soaked her washcloth and then rinsed her infant daughter clean. As Melissa worked, Emily’s mind wandered, recalling her Mommy’s recent words to her: Stop thinking. Stop trying to talk or complain or object. Just nurse your pacifier and know that Mommy knows best. Why would she want that? Don’t parents want their kids to grow up and be independent? Prior to meeting Dr. Thurman, it seemed like that was what Emily’s mommy had wanted for him. But now she was literally telling him to turn his brain off, to just accept everything that was happening to him without complaint. Why did she want that? And could he even do that? And if he did, what would the long term consequences be? Maybe, he thought as the warm water, the soft washcloth, and his Mommy’s caring hands lapped over him, maybe not all of this is so bad?
After Melissa finished washing Emily’s torso, arms, and legs, her cell phone rang. She stepped away from the island (where Emily was still securely immobilized in his baby bath) and answered the call. Emily couldn’t hear the caller’s words, but he heard enough of the tone of their voice to feel a cold wave of fear ripple through him.
“Oh, hi, Lauren!” Melissa squealed, her face breaking into a smile. “Oh, it’s been . . . just beyond. Truly, the best day of my whole life! No words, really! It’s a day both Emily and I will never forget, that’s for . . . What’s that? Oh! Those pageant costumes! Right! Well yes, now would be a perfect time for you to bring those over. Tell you what, I’m right in the middle of giving Emily her bath, so I’ll just unlock the front door remotely, with my phone, and you can just come on in and come upstairs and say hi. What’s that? Oh, I know, I can’t wait for you to see her new nursery either! It’s going to take your breath away! Okay, see you soon!”
Emily panicked. Although the bathroom and the water he was sitting in were both warm, an icy chill ran across him. The air on his exposed pen-is, testicles, and anus suddenly seemed to turn icy, highlighting the helpless, totally exposed position he was in. Lauren cannot see me like this, he thought. She can’t. He struggled and strained with all his might, but the straps securing him in position did not budge a millimeter. Spitting his pacifier out, he shouted “Mommy! Mommy, please no! Please, please don’t let Lauren see me like --”
Putting her phone down and returning to his side, Melissa slapped Emily’s exposed, totally hairless inner thigh. “No talking,” she said, her tone all business. The slap on his thigh wasn’t really that hard, but Emily was not used to physical discipline from his Mommy, and he was shocked back into silence. Still totally immobile in his restraints, he looked on with wide eyes as his Mommy retrieved his pacifier, cleaned it off, and then reached into one of the drawers on the side of the island.
“You know, you’re the only one you’re hurting when you struggle and resist and break the rules about babies not talking,” she said, putting a small jar of clear gel on the top of the island, just outside of Emily’s baby bath. Unscrewing the top of the jar, she took the rubber teat of Emily’s pacifier and dipped it into the clear gel, coating the bulb. “It’s going to take time,” Melissa continued, bringing the coated pacifier back to Emily’s lips. “But you are going to learn that struggling doesn’t accomplish anything. And if you won’t be a good girl and follow the rules yourself, then Dr. Thurman and I will take steps to help you follow the rules. Open up.”
Emily’s lips parted, and Melissa rubbed the teat of the pacifier around Emily’s lips before she re-inserted it into his mouth. “Babies who insist that they can talk like big girls get their medicine,” she said. Emily made a sour taste as the gel on her pacifier coated the inside of his mouth and his tongue with its faintly bitter taste. “Mommy makes the decisions,” Melissa scolded him. “Mommy decides. Not Mommy’s baby girl. So when Mommy decides something is going to happen, baby can just relax and accept it, or baby can struggle . . . and then what Mommy wanted is going to happen anyways. BABY . . . does NOT . . . decide . . . ANYthing.”
Emily’s mind was racing as he tried to figure out what this “medicine” on his pacifier was going to do, but then his heart dropped as he heard the front door open downstairs.
“That must be Lauren,” Melissa said with a sly grin. “Since you’re not going anywhere, why don’t I go greet her?”
It was true: as soon as Melissa exited the room, Emily tried again to wriggle his way out of his bonds, but it soon became obvious that he wasn’t going anywhere. As he lay there, restrained and nursing on his medicine-coated pacifier, trying to listen to what Lauren and his mother were talking about downstairs, he felt his lips begin to tingle. It was mild at first, but it escalated quickly. Soon his lips felt huge and somehow numb and itchy at the same time, like he’d been to the dentist. And all of a sudden, he found that his mouth was full of spit. It felt like a flood of it was in his mouth, threatening to overflow. Scared and confused, he opened his lips and spit out his pacifier again. The second he did so, a trail of thick drool gushed out of his mouth, dripping down his chin and falling onto his neck. Through the bathroom door, Emily could hear that Lauren and his Mommy had come upstairs. They were right outside, in his new nursery, and Lauren was gushing and squealing over how cute she thought the room was. Emily knew he was only moments away from the worst embarrassment of his life: the love of his life seeing him restrained in a baby bath, totally naked, legs spread wide and exposed from his tight pink anus to the tip of his tiny coc-k, which was still somehow rock hard, throbbing and drooling, bobbing uselessly in the air, aching but unable to find even an ounce of contact or satisfaction. And now he was drooling from the mouth as well, his lips and tongue both feeling swollen and making his mouth hang open. He knew he wasn’t supposed to talk, but he wondered if he could now, even if he tried.
To Emily’s horror, the bathroom door opened.
“. . . and here she is,” Melissa said, “all snug and secure for bathtime.”
Lauren pressed her hands over her mouth and jumped up and down with glee. She kept swiveling her head from Emily in his baby bath to Melissa’s proud grin and then back again. Emily, for his part, was experiencing a level of shame he never thought possible. Restrained in place as he was, he knew Lauren could see every inch of his most private areas, and that made the shame well up in him until he felt like his chest was going to split apart. Even though he was firmly bound in place, he felt like he was sinking, and he immediately started crying. With his lips and tongue in the state they were, the sounds of his sobbing just made him sound even more like a mentally handicapped toddler.
“Llllaaaaurrrffff –” he sputtered, his lips feeling heavy and numb and making it hard for him to talk. Melissa quickly stepped to him, retrieved his pacifier from the shallow bath water and re-inserted it.
“Unfortunately,” Melissa said with a domineering grin, “a certain little princess has been in trouble for trying to talk like a big girl today.”
“You’re really going to take her language use away?” Lauren asked.
“Absolutely and completely,” Melissa said, a huge anticipatory grin breaking across her face. “It’s one of the steps that seemed really extreme to me when Dr. Thurman first suggested it. But as we discussed the other night, it’s all about choices. When I foolishly let Emily try to be a big boy, all I did was hurt her and stress her out. All those choices she had to make: what to wear, how to schedule her time, what to eat . . . they all overwhelmed her.”
“And what is language use except a bunch of choices?” Lauren said. Emily could not believe her tone. What Lauren was talking about was his Mommy taking his voice away, seeing him silenced forever, but Lauren’s tone made it seem like a wonderful, beautiful thing.
Melissa sighed with contentment and squeezed Lauren’s forearm. “Thank you, Lauren. You’ve been such a dear in all of this. You have no idea how much I’ve appreciated your support. For example, I so appreciate you coming in here just now and not speaking directly to Emily.”
Lauren smiled. “I admit, it’s kind of weird and will take some getting used to, but I just love Emily so much, as a little sister, and I want to do whatever I can to help her. So yeah, happy to follow any rules you put in place, Ms. Harper. I know this whole process is going to be tough for her, but I want to help however I can. And yeah, she’s a baby. People don’t always talk directly to babies, so I guess Emily does need to get used to that.”
“Honestly?” Melissa said, “I’ve been daydreaming for some time now about getting to the point where Emily is mentally compliant as well as physically compliant. I keep wondering what the last real, big-girl words I’ll hear from her will be. I don’t know when that moment will come or what the last big girl words I’ll hear from my daughter will be. But I’m dedicated to getting there, to there being a last time. And then? After that? Just baby babble.”
“That is so beautiful,” Lauren cooed, looking flushed with excitement. Then, looking down at Emily’s tiny, throbbing hard-on, she laughed. “Although not everything about the present moment is really beautiful.”
“Oh, I know!” Melissa laughed, “Isn’t that just horrible? Here, let’s get that taken care of before we dry our little bathing beauty off!”
“It’s not even horrible,” Lauren laughed, looking intently at Emily’s pen-is but not touching it. “It’s just . . . sad. It’s so small. And so narrow! It never could have made a girl happy, could it?”
Melissa was getting out a washcloth and running it under cold water in the bathroom sink. “Of course not,” she said, “honestly, it shouldn’t have existed at all.”
“I agree,” Lauren said as Melissa walked back over to Emily. “It’s a complete mistake.”
Emily barely had time to register the pain of Lauren’s words before her Mommy wrapped the ice-cold washcloth around her hard-on. The wet coldness enveloped him painfully and deflated him as he writhed uselessly in his bonds. He howled with the shock and unfairness of it all, once again dropping his pacifier out of his mouth and letting a huge wad of drool slide down his chin and on to his neck and chest. Lauren came around to his head, stood behind him, re-inserted his pacifier and held it in place as he thrashed.
The bathroom got quiet then, as Lauren hushed soft whispers into Emily’s ear and Melissa went about wrapping up baby’s bath time. Emily’s chastity cage was re-inserted over her now soft weiner and locked back into place. The baby bath was drained and Emily’s restraints were released. Melissa and Lauren guided them between her as they got her out of the bath and allowed her to stand while they dried her off with large, soft, fluffy lavender towels. Emily knew, deep down, that after he was dry, another big white disposable diaper would be waiting for him . . . on his changing table . . . in his nursery.
Betty Pearl's Sissy Stories 20.1
Topic: A Caring Place (Co-Written by PervScenes11) (Read 70032 times)
