9.
Over supper, Tabby tried subtly to bring Mitch out.
“So, Mitch. I’ve heard a lot about you. You’re at St. Luke’s, then. I hear that’s a very nice school.”
Now they were downstairs with Tabby, Mitch had relaxed a little.
“Yeah, it’s okay. The headmistress is a bit of a dragon, but the teachers – mine, anyway – are fine. Our drama teacher, Miss Chambers, is the best. She’s always joking about. We’re putting on Romeo and Juliet at the end of term. I think I might be in it.”
“Oh, really? Do you know what part you’ll be playing?”
“Not yet…if any…”
“Oh, I’m sure you will. You should be Romeo. You’re handsome enough.” Mitch blushed. “Anyway, I’ve heard you’re quite the thespian.”
“What’s a…thespian,” asked Lottie.
“It’s a posh word for an actor,” said Lettie. “Yeah, mum, he is. And he’s gonna show you after supper, aren’t you, Mitchikins?”
“Don’t call me that.”
“All right, Babykins then. Cos you’re better as a baby than a boy, I’m thinking.”
“Lettie! Don’t be rude.”
“Wait till you see him.”
“Mitch dear, you don’t have to show me if you don’t want to. I think it’s enough you’ve volunteered to play baby with the girls.”
“It’s all right,” said Mitch, in a resigned tone. And added, to change the subject, “This lasagne is the best I’ve ever tasted, Mrs…Tabby. Better than mum’s… Don’t tell her I said that…”
“I’m flattered. I hope you like my apricot crumble as much…”
He did. And after supper, despite Lettie’s impatience, Tabby insisted they sit down and chat and digest their food. She asked some more about his school, and his friends, and somehow the conversation got round to the subject of Molly Caulker.
“Oh, so she’s in your year, Mitch. Do you know her very well? She’s one of Lettie’s best friends.”
“Yeah, I heard.”
“Ooh, that’s a good idea, mum. I should ask her round when Mitch is here,” said Lettie, mischievously, watching Mitch squirm uncomfortably at the thought. “You two should really get to know each other, Mitch.”
Mitch said nothing. Lettie pressed him further.
“I’m sure she’d be interested in your acting. I’ll have to ask her if she’s going to be in the school play, too. It’s just the sort of thing she would do.”
Satisfied she had worked Mitch into a sufficient state of discomfort, she stood up, took him by the hand, and pulled him out of his chair.
“Come on – I’m sure mummy’s dying to see your baby persona.” And she led him back upstairs, telling Lottie to wait until she called her.
Once in her bedroom, Mitch released all his pent-up anxiety.
“Lettie, please. Don’t say anything about me to Molly. If you even mention my name she’ll want to know why, then she won’t rest till she finds out everything. Please…”
She sat him on the bed and sat down next to him.
“If you don’t want her to know about you…about Baby Mitch, and how he likes to dress up in his little plastic panties and do wee-wees in them…”
“Stop it!”
“…If you really don’t want her to know, then you’re going to do everything you’re told, right? Right?”
“Yes…”
“Everything. Yes?”
“Yes! I said yes!”
“Good. Just so we understand each other. So, now we’re going to get you dressed, and then we’re going downstairs to show mummy, and you’re going to convince her that you dress up like this because you love it, because you feel happier as a baby, especially as a girl baby, and you wish you could be a girl baby all the time, and slowly grow up into a big girl, and wear girl clothes, and everything. She knows all about you wetting yourself and having to be changed, by the way – I heard Grace telling her all about it. So she already knows you must be really into the whole thing. And I want you to tell her the reason you volunteered to be a baby with us – because you don’t have any other friends who would let you, and you’re really grateful to me and Lottie for agreeing to play with you. Do you understand?”
“I understand. But what’s the point?”
“You will ask her, very politely, if she would allow you to come and play again.”
“Oh. You want me to come over again?”
“I want you here every Friday, silly boy. We used to have to play babies with dolls, but now we have you. That’s much more fun.”
“E-every Friday? But…”
“You’ve got the idea. If you don’t cooperate…well, I wouldn’t guarantee a role in the school play once that video gets passed around. Molly would be ecstatic! In fact, I was tempted to send it to her anyway.” She took out her phone. “It would be so easy... Just one click, and…”
“No. I’ll do whatever…whatever you want…” He looked as though he was going to cry, then added, under his breath, “you fuc-king bitch...”
Lettie stared at him for an instant, the colour draining from her face. Then she drew back, and administered a stinging slap to his cheek.
“Ow! Why…?”
“You will treat me with respect, you stupid little baby. One more remark like that, and you’re finished!”
“I-I’m s-sorry…I am…I didn’t mean it…I…”
“Get over my lap.”
“What?”
“Over my lap. Now!”
She was very angry, and her anger had Mitch very startled. He stood up awkwardly, not quite knowing how to proceed.
“Get your clothes off. All of them. Now!”
“But, Lettie…”
She took out her phone. “Five seconds. One…two…”
She didn’t have to finish the count. In a moment he stood in front of her, quite naked, only his hands preserving his modesty. She reached up, took him by the ear, and pulled him across her lap. She delivered six good hard smacks to his bare bottom, accompanied by a few words of advice; “I…don’t…tolerate…naughty…babies…or else!”
The smacks stung, but the embarrassment stung a lot more.
“Well? Get off me, then!”
First, she made him lie on the bed while she rubbed some cold cream into his bottom and sprinkled it with scented talc.
“You need to smell like a baby, too. Right, now get dressed. I’ll tell you what to put on.”
She threw open the case and tossed out a pull-up, those beautiful trimmed pants, and his short socks and bootees. Mitch was only too happy to be allowed to get dressed. Lettie rummaged in the case.
“I’m looking for something that will show off those lovely plastic pants…ah, here we are.”
She had found a pale pink sleeveless crop top, with an elasticated hem and ruffle collar, and the word “Ticklish” embroidered on the front. She helped Mitch on with it. It came down just above his navel.
“Perfect! Now hold still…”
She took out a large pink pacifier, threaded a length of red ribbon through one wing, and pinned the ends to his top with a safety-pin.
“Now - you will keep your pacifier in your mouth unless I give you permission to take it out.”
“Yes, Lettie.” He was rather frightened, and eager to propitiate her, and put it in at once, and suc-ked on it vigorously.
“That’s better. Now then.” She went to the door and called, “Lottie? Could you come up please?”
Lottie ran up the stairs and entered the room, looking round expectantly. When she saw Mitch she jumped for joy.
“Hooray! Baby’s ready. Let’s take him to show mummy!”
“Go on, then, darling. And baby? You’d better remember every word I said to you…every word, or you’ll be for it!”
“Come on, Baby Mitch,” said Lottie, gently, taking his hand, “come and show mummy your pretty outfit.” And she led him eagerly downstairs.
Tabby was sitting on the couch, awaiting the big entrance. But even Grace’s description hadn’t prepared for the sight of Baby Mitch.
“Goodness me! Mitch! You look…wonderful…” She stared at his frilled, beribboned pants, and his long bare legs.
“It’s a simple outfit,” said Lettie, “but do you like it, mummy?”
“Why…yes…it’s really…I mean…” Tabby was unsure of what she should say. Mitch was twelve – nearly thirteen. Was he really dressing up like this of his own accord? She looked at his face, but with the big pink pacifier in his mouth his expression was difficult to read.
“You can take your pacifier out, baby, and tell mummy all about your new outfit.” Tabby didn’t see the meaningful glance that her daughter gave him. He pulled it out and let it hang from its ribbon. His hands went instinctively to his pants, and his fingers picked nervously at the rubber frills. He had to get this right.
“Do you like my plastic panties, Mrs Bradley?” (In his present role he found it impossible to address her as an equal.) I don’t know where auntie Grace found them, but they’re beautiful, aren’t they, and they fit me perfectly.”
“Why…yes, Mitch…they're lovely…”
“I’m glad you like them. I love pink, you know. I really wanted to dress up as a girl baby. It feels so nice.” He snatched a sidelong glance at Lettie, to see if she was satisfied by his performance. There was a slight frown on her face, as though she was reserving judgement. He had to try harder.
He was standing to attention, his legs pressed together with the effort of appearing natural. He was holding onto his panty frills either side now, and there was such an earnest expression on his face that Tabby suddenly had an almost overwhelming urge to burst out laughing. She had to press her lips together between her teeth, and turn her amusement into a friendly smile.
“Do you feel more comfortable like that?”
“Oh, yes, yes,” he blurted, relieved she seemed to be buying into the whole thing, “I feel really nice and happy. You’re very kind to let me wear my baby things here, Mrs Bradley. And Lettie, too. It’s so difficult sometimes. I love being a baby so, so much, and I wish I could always wear pretty baby girl clothes, cos I do love them, they’re so cute, and my pull-up is so soft on my skin, and I love the scent of the baby powder…”
“Yes, it’s lovely, darling. Roses, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” said Lettie. “Mitch’s favourite.”
“So Mitch… I think I understand a little better now. You’re not really acting, are you? I mean, you are, but it’s a part you’re totally comfortable in, right?”
Mitch decided to go the whole way. He wanted Lettie to be totally satisfied. “Yes. Mrs Bradley. But it’s more like I’m acting when I’m a boy, and this is the real me…”
“Goodness. That’s…really interesting. So you would prefer if we all treated you like a baby…?”
“I…I…”
“Would you? Tell me the truth.”
Mitch blushed and hung his head. “Y-yes…”
Tabby felt her amusement being overwhelmed by her motherly instincts. He really did want to be a little baby! “Oh, you little sweetie!” She held out her arms. “Come here, babykins, and let me give you a cuddle. Come and sit on my lap.” With a rustle of plastic pants, Mitch complied. “That’s better. Mmm, you smell so nice.” She stroked his cheek. “And your skin is so soft. There, there, darling, you can relax now. You can stay here as long as you like and be our baby, and be cuddled and petted and fed and looked after. And don’t worry if you wet your nappy, will you? We’ll change you and bath you and keep our baby nice and warm and dry! And one day, maybe our baby will grow up into a pretty little girl. Do you think so?”
Mitch, not knowing what else to do, slowly nodded assent. Lettie covered her mouth, concealing a smile of triumph.