Chapter 11
Mrs. Warren arrived the next day with Maria who had met accidentally at the station and decided it would make good sense to share a taxi. Mrs. Warren was in her fifties and had the skill and confidence of a housekeeper who had managed a large kitchen and a team of staff. She relished the opportunity to downsize and return to the kitchen where she had always enjoyed creating delicious delights for the household and visitors when they came visiting. She had a warm no-nonsense air about her while being a kind and jolly personality that would bring good cheer to the mood of all.
Maria was twenty years old and had very little experience, apart from a long spell spent in a care home looking after the linens and laundry. She had worked hard and kept the airing cupboards well organised and in perfect order. Those patients in terry nappies always remarked how soft and gentle they felt on their skin and how lovely the plastic pants smelt. She was also an accomplished needlewoman and would happily darn the little holes that appeared at various times in woollen garments and repaired tears and seam failures without needing to be asked. The offer of more pay and lighter duties was too great an opportunity to miss, even if it did mean that her position now became residential.
By lunch time Mrs Warren was in her large white apron making a beautiful lunch for everybody, including a special dish for James. Maria had examined all the nappies in the airing cupboard and detected unacceptable stains so had put on a boil wash with plenty of oxy action Vanish to restore the white brightness to James’s nappies. The addition of a small amount of her mildly acidic water softening pre-treatment was going to restore them to a glorious softness that would send James into raptures.
By the time Mrs Warren called out that lunch was ready, the washing line outside the window had sixteen gleaming white nappies fluttering in the wind, next to six pairs of translucent plastic pants, five large white bibs and a dozen muslins used as nappy liners.
Caroline put James into his large high chair making sure that the harness was securely fixed and that he could not fall out. She fitted the tray around him and made sure that he was safe and secure. James was suc-king on his yellow dummy looking a little dazed and somewhat over-whelmed by the appearance of two new people to the household. Nobody introduced him to Maria or Mrs. Warren. Babies don’t need to know these things. Caroline took one of his bibs out of the drawer in the kitchen and fluffed it out by flapping it in his face. It was a white terry towelling bib which had a large yellow duck on the front and a yellow binding that went around the edges and formed the ties. She tapped him to make him lift his head so she could tie on his bib, his head being pressed into her breast as she lent over him to reach behind his head. James’s suc-king increased in frequency as he took in her sweet fragrance.
He looked a vision in yellow in his pretty romper suit of pale yellow which was accented with yellow ducks that were embroidered all over the front of the garment’s bodice. The waist was the classic empire line and elasticated across his chest from where the garment ballooned out to cover his thick nappies, before going between his legs where the silver snaps joined front to back. The effect was a lovely bubble that was accentuated by the lacy elasticated cuffs that went round the top of his legs to secure the garment over his thick nappies. On his feet were pale yellow booties secured with yellow ribbons and tied in large bows.
Mrs Warren came over with a bottle of juice and pulled out his dummy that was pinned to his romper with a yellow ribbon. He looked very concerned until he spotted the bottle that he eagerly grabbed and started to suc-k vigorously. “That’s a good baby” she said looking at the overgrown infant sitting in the highchair and not quite believing what she was looking at. She was being paid very well for her services and her feelings were not important. A part of her felt disgust, but another part of her felt pity for the man imprisoned in his baby attire and clearly being forced to act out his life as a baby, down to the humiliation of wetting and soiling himself in babies’ nappies. The shameful feeling was that she was being quite excited by this somewhat sadistic situation and so in a way she felt shame in those naughty thoughts. A start of tingling in her very private places and the development of a wetness was unforgiveable and it was almost impossible for her to suppress a little shiver and suppressed snigger.
Mrs Warren returned to her stove and completed the main course for her baby, which was a shepherd’s pie made with minced meat and freshly made mashed potato. Lisa had instructed her on the use additional fibre in all of James’s meals, the use of plenty of vegetables and lots of healthy fruits. The side of spinach, broccoli and cabbage she had prepared and chopped fine in her food processor with the addition of a couple of teaspoons of castor oil to improve the flavour. Dessert was a compote of plums and prunes on a bed of Greek yoghurt.
A good cook can make food taste nice with careful blending and using the right herbs, seasoning and spices. Caroline was amazed at the way James ate his meal with such enjoyment and relish. Spoon after spoon full of food was transferred from plastic bowl to mouth, most of it going in the right direction, but quite a lot was spilling on his bib and sticking to his lips and chin. By the time it came to his milky bottle, he was in a bit of a mess, but he was too interested in getting his bokky of num nums to worry about his appearance.
Caroline had made up his formula with the required diuretic to encourage his ‘wetties’, a little senna to support his ‘poo poos’ and a few drops of sleepy time medicine and sedatives to keep his docile and obedient. It was part of nanny’s plan to encourage him to follow a regime of naps and early bedtimes best suiting a young baby or toddler.
As the grown up ate their lunch, James came towards the end of his bottle and slowly slumped forwards in his seat, the bottle slipping from his mouth and falling to the tray, as his head dropped onto his chest. He wet his nappy.
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Topic: Proof of Intent (Read 5853 times)
