Momma’s Little Baby                     by: Debbie Cybill

 

SEVERAL years ago a nephew came to stay with me while his parents took a vacation. He was a spoiled brat and I could do nothing with him, then one night I wrote this story and read the first rough draft to him. It scared the living daylights out of him, for I made the main character like him and of the same name and age. For the rest of the stay with me he was extremely well-behaved, and when he returned home I warned him that I would be keeping my eye on him. It worked.

* * * * *

I WAS a rotten kid. If we had lived in a large town I would surely have been into gangs, but in our small prairie town there were no gangs. My roguery was primarily personal. My father had left when I was four and I lived with my mother and older sister. My mother was a school teacher and my sister a secretary. I was a frequent truant from school, a wanton vandal. I ignored my mother’s warnings and disobeyed her with impunity. My report cards from school were straight Ds. At 13 I started shop-lifting and stealing money from Mom’s purse to buy drugs. The first couple of times I was caught I was let off with a warning. The third time was different. I spent several days in the local lockup while my mother tried to have me released into her charge. During this time, I learnt later, she had made a number of contacts, and finally persuaded the judge to release me into her care on probation

I thanked her by smashing a set of drinking glasses, then I went into the den and slumped down onto the couch in front of the television set, planning my next move. Mom and her friend Marjorie burst in with my sister Christine in tow. All three leapt on me and before I knew what was happening they had tied me up. They man-handled me into a hard kitchen chair and tied my ankles and wrists to the frame, my legs to the front legs of the chair, my hands behind me tied down to the stretcher.

"If you are going to behave like a spoiled brat I am going to treat you like one. You are nothing more than a spoiled baby."

I scowled at her and called her a dirty name. At that she improvised a gag out of a dishcloth and a piece of rope. She held my nose so that I had to open my mouth and shoved the stinking dish-clout in deep, then tied it in place. She picked up the phone.

"Hello, Is that Helen? . . . Yes! He is quite unrepentant. He smashed a set of glasses and then swore at me. . .Yes, I have him tied to a kitchen chair. . .You will? See you in about an hour then."

Who the hell was Helen?

It was more than an hour later that I found out. Helen arrived with her daughter in tow. The daughter was perhaps sixteen, a sexy chick in a miniskirt, nice tits, hair in pigtails, dangly earrings, black stockings and heels. She seemed half afraid of Helen and said not a word the whole time they were there. Helen and Mom exchanged greetings. Helen removed my gag and I burst into a torrent of bad language. She replaced it.

"I see what you mean Jen."

My Mom’s name is Jennifer.

"Well the first thing is to move in the gear. Georgina, will you go out to the car and bring in all the stuff we packed in. Bring the chair in here and take everything else straight upstairs to Debbie’s bedroom. Christine will help you and show you which is his room."

‘Debbie? Where did she get that name from. There’s no Debbie in this house. I’m Derek, not Debbie.’ Georgina and Christine started to carry in some rather heavy things, but I could not twist far enough around to see what they were.

"I think it’s time for a little hypnosis, Jen. As soon as the girls have finished setting up upstairs and everything is quiet I’ll begin."

She started swinging a medallion in front of my eyes. ‘Ha, you’ll never put me under like that.’

A moment or two later the medallion was nowhere to be seen and Mom and Helen were untying me. I glanced at the clock. It was not a moment but two hours that had passed. I guess she had hypnotized me. I could not stand. I thought It was lack of circulation while I was tied up and that it would soon pass. The two women sat me on the floor and started talking about me.

"How long do you think I should keep him like this?" That was Mom talking.

"I kept Georgina like this for six months before I allowed her to advance to the next stage of toddling."

‘What stage was I supposed to be in for the next six months?’

"Can you really get rid of his male organs by hypnosis alone, without any surgery?"

This was sounding bad. ‘What did she mean?’

"It will take twenty or more sessions, but that’s what I did to George to turn him into Georgina."

‘Oh, God, what were they doing to me?’ Mom reached down and put a baby’s bottle in my mouth; it contained milk. I tried to push it away but I could not control my hands; I tried to say something, but I found I could not speak, only gurgle.

Helen continued, "You could speed things up by using hormones. I thought of regressing him to the stage before he could sit up, but that would have been such a nuisance for you, Jen. It will be much easier now that he can sit up on his own. His abilities are now about those of a six month old child, though he retains all his inner awareness."

‘Shit! Had the bitch turned me into a baby?’

I tried to speak again, but all I managed was a wail. My bladder let go. I could not control it.

"You see why I spread newspaper on the floor, Jen."

"It doesn’t matter really, the floor is vinyl tiles, Helen."

"You’d better start dressing him now, or should I say ‘her’?"

"She’s going to end up as a girl, just like your Georgina, so I think I’ll start using the feminine form now."

‘Shit!’

"What are you going to call her?"

"I think, Debbie will do - what you called her a few minutes ago."

Mom picked me up - I did not know she was so strong - and laid me down on the kitchen table. Helen produced a diaper. Did they really make them in my size? She showed Mom how to diaper me. She added a pair of plastic pants.

"Here are two of Georgina’s dresses from when she was at this stage."

I lay on my back, my bum diapered, waving my legs and arms in the air, just like a baby. Mom sat me up and dropped the frilly dress, a baby girl’s party dress, over my head. She brushed my hair and tied it up in a pink ribbon.

"That looks so much better than the long lank hair he had over his shoulders."

I hated to think what I looked like. Here I had been hoping to start shaving in a few months. It looked doubtful if I ever would. Mom lifted me into a high chair, swung the tray over my head and stuck a pacifier in my mouth. I sucked on it eagerly, unable to help myself. ::Where did that big high chair come from? Helen must have had it made for when she did this to Georgina.::

"I advise you to change her diaper only when she dirties it, unless you can’t stand the crying when she wets it. That way it will be far more uncomfortable for her and create a better lesson."

"That’s a good point. Thanks for the idea. That reminds me - when do I start potty training her?"

"Oh, I have never potty trained Georgina. I think I have much better control over her that way. I did train her to change her own diaper, but a little post-hypnotic suggestion will only allow her to do it when she has dirtied herself. If she wets she has to live with it. Oh, and she can only change her diaper if I am present. That way she cannot run away. That’s why I was able to bring you a supply of diapers and plastic panties; they’re hers. You can pay me back when you have a chance to go shopping."

"Thank you, Helen; I really appreciate all you have done for me."

"Come along, Georgina. I’ll see you next week, Jen, for the next session of hypnosis. Call me if you have any trouble before then."

So now I really was in trouble. I couldn’t stand, I couldn’t walk, I couldn’t even talk. They were going to turn me into a girl. And from the sound of it I should be in diapers for the rest of my life. And tied to Mom’s apron strings too.

Mom came back from seeing Helen and Georgina to their car.

"Goo-goo. Who’s Momma’s little baby?"

She leant over me and chucked me under the chin. "Now it’s time for bye-byes, but first a bath for my baby girl."

She picked me up and threw me over her shoulder to carry me upstairs. She dropped me on the crib in my room.

‘Crib? Where had my bed gone? I was to sleep in this oversized baby’s crib?’

Mom started to run my bath. Lying on my back I was able to see into my open closets. All my clothes had gone. There was almost nothing there. And my action toys, my posters, my stereo. All gone!

Mom played with my balls while she washed me.

"You won’t have those much longer, baby mine."

She lifted me out and laid me on a towel on the floor, then patted me dry. She sprinkled me with baby powder. What a stink, babyish, girlish! I hated it. She smeared zinc oxide ointment all over my bum and balls, then put my diaper back. I wished I could shit into it straight away to make her do it all over again, but I had no control over such matters. She combed and brushed my hair, then tied it up once more, with a bunch over each ear. She slipped a nightdress over my head, then picked me up and carried me back to the crib where she put a pacifier into my mouth, kissed me on the cheek and turned out the light. This was the time of the evening when I liked to go out and find something to do.

I wet my diaper about midnight. I bawled for a bit but no-one came to change my diaper. I knew no-one would come, but I had no control over that either. I crapped into it about three hours later. This time I bawled for much longer, but Mom did not come to change me until three hours later. It was disgusting. I hated lying there in my own shit. Mom cleaned off most of it with the ends of the diaper and then wiped my arse with a damp cloth. She smeared zinc oxide on my bum and powdered it, but it still burnt from the long period I had been lying in shit.

At breakfast I found that I was still being bottle-fed. I had nothing but liquids for breakfast, lunch and dinner, all fed to me in a baby’s bottle. I longed for a hamburger. With fries. As the days passed this craving grew greater, but it was six months before I received any food except from a bottle. You can guess what the liquids did to my diaper. I was sitting in a wet diaper half the day. I began to welcome the idea of a good crap so that it would be changed. So long as I didn’t crap at night!

Helen came once a week, always with the silent Georgina tagging along. I suppose that Helen hypnotized me, but I had no idea of the passage of time, since I could no longer read the clock. Georgina would sit opposite me, often with her legs apart so that I could see up her skirt. Once upon a time I would have been delighted by this, but her plastic panties did not interest me now, but then I don’t suppose they would have done six month ago either. Besides, she was usually sucking her thumb.

Then one day I produced a sound that Mom interpreted as ‘Mama.’ I guess she was just kidding herself, for I was not really trying any longer to talk. I had just about given up. On Helens’ next visit she told her. "I guess it’s about time we let her crawl and permitted a few words. Do you want to wean her yet?"

The next thing I knew - I suppose it was and hour or two later, after my hypnosis session - I found myself on the floor, actually able to crawl. This time I actually tried to say "Mama!" and it came out just as I meant it to. I found I could also say ‘Kissie,’ though I didn’t know if this was a request for a kiss or my attempt at ‘Christine’. There were a few other words too.

For supper that evening I had strained carrots spooned into my mouth in addition to a bottle of milk. I suppose weaning had started. As the weeks passed I became better at crawling around, though I found that it was something that had to be learned. I acquired more words and I was being fed more slop. I know now that the words were fed to me in my weekly hypnosis sessions, and that I could only use the words that came to me that way. Even years later I still have a limited vocabulary when speaking and can only use those words that Helen fed to me. I guess that that was why Georgina was so silent.

Mom kept me in this crawling stage for about a year. Slowly my vocabulary increased, I was taking more and more solid - well, semi-solid - food; and still wishing for a burger. I tried several times to feel my balls and prick while Mom was bathing me or changing my diaper but I had very little control of my hands and Mom batted them away every time. I still did not know if my balls were shrinking away to nothing, but I suspected they were. About the only thing I could reliably do with my hands was to put my thumb in my mouth and suck it.

Then one day, during one of Helen’s visits I found myself standing on my feet. I suppose I had been hypnotized into this too. I promptly fell over. I found that I could not get up by myself, but if Mom stood me up I could remain on my feet for progressively longer periods, standing with my legs well apart and bowed. Two weeks later I took my first step.

It took me a year to learn to walk, or rather to toddle in the splay-legged gait of a toddler. I still could not climb the stairs for a time, and when I did finally succeed it was on all fours. Sometimes I would sit down halfway up and bawl in frustration. No-one would take any notice, of course, so I would end up sticking my thumb in my mouth. About this time Helen gave Mom a large push chair, and Mom started taking me to the mall with her for shopping. I felt such a fool sitting there dressed as a little girl with bows in my hair and sucking my thumb.

The next task was to learn to feed myself. I would sit in the giant high chair wearing a bib over my dress. Mom would cut up my food into tiny pieces and I would try, usually unsuccessfully, to scoop the bits up in a spoon. Oh, that bland baby food! And what a mess I made everywhere! Mom spread a plastic sheet under the chair.

It was three years before I was allowed to wear teenager’s clothes and to walk properly. Mom put me in girl’s clothes, Georgina’s cast-offs at first, I think, and I could do nothing about it. I had graduated to cutting up my own food and was eating proper meals, if you can call cottage cheese salads and diet junk like that proper food. I was still in diapers, of course, but I had learned to change my own, but only after shitting, and only if Mom was present. If I went outside at all I had to go running in to Mom before I could change it. Once, when Mom left me in charge of Christine and went off for the day, I had to stay in the stinking diaper until she returned. I was quite unable to change it unless she was present. During all this time my body did not grow or develop at all. If anything my bones shrank and I was smaller than I had been when this rotten mess started, and of course my muscle mass was much less and I was as weak as - well, as weak as a baby. At this time I discovered that Mom, as a registered teacher, had applied to teach me at home, and there was no question of my going to school.

Just as Helen had promised Mom at the beginning, my balls shrank and finally disappeared and I had only an apology for a prick hidden away in my diapers. It had not, however, disappeared completely, even though Mom had started giving me oestrogens as soon as I could walk properly. The result was that I started to develop breasts and wore a training brassiere. To all outward appearances I was now a teenaged girl. I still sucked my thumb and wore diapers, but no-one could see what I had under my diaper. Mom dressed me in the most suggestive girl’s clothes she could find, spandex miniskirts, tight sweaters, even garter belt and stockings instead of pantyhose. Even though I dressed myself every morning I had no choice in what I wore.

"Helen and I are taking you to Dr. Hedon, Debbie dear. You have an appointment tomorrow." Dr. Hedon was a middle-aged woman who asked me a lot of embarrassing questions which I did not know how to answer. I just stuck my thumb in my mouth and looked at her. For the first time in years I wore no diaper; I suppose Helen had hypnotized me, for even though my bladder was full I could not pee. Dr. Hedon examined me and then asked to see my birth certificate.

"I see Debbie was registered at birth as a girl."

‘That was a lie; how did Mom and Helen manage to change it?’

She went on, "Perhaps your obstetrician made a mistake. I think Debbie may be a genetic male. If so his testes have not descended and his penis is quite tiny. It is far too late to rescue him as a functional male, but in any case he has been brought up as a girl. I think it should be possible to reconstruct the genitalia as female and to ensure proper breast development and female bodily proportions."

I just sucked my thumb through all this, but I was horrified. When we left Dr, Hedon’s office I was whimpering, as much from the pain in my bladder as from what I had heard.

"Poor baby! Never mind, as soon as we get a diaper on you, you can relieve that bladder."

I was admitted to hospital the next day, once more without a diaper. But this time there was no post-hypnotic block to stop me from peeing and shitting. I made a right mess of the bed, and the nurses ended up putting a diaper on me anyway. Of course, since Mom was not present I could not change it, and the nurse had to do it for me. I had some kind of surgery in my groin and the following day Mom, Helen and Dr. Hedon gathered around my bed.

"Just as I thought, I found the testes right inside, up at the top of the inguinal canals. I thought it best to remove them, since in this condition, known as cryptorchidism, there is always a risk of them becoming cancerous. Your child was a genetic male."

I knew that already, but now these bastards had castrated me. All I could do was suck my thumb.

"I strongly recommend reconstructing the genital area as a vulva and cutting off the penis, using it to form a clitoris, then in a couple of years we can create a vagina and labia."

‘Was this what had happened to Georgina I wondered. Had she been born a boy?’

"I can start a course of hormones immediately and that will aid in stimulating the breasts to grow and the body to take on the form of an adult female."

The doctor left and I heard Helen say to Mom, "And a little hypnosis will help things along too."

I stayed in the hospital and three days later the doctors performed more surgery. When they finally removed the bandages and dressings I had a slit where my prick had been. The nurses soon learned that I had to wear a diaper at all times, and that they had to change it. The oestrogens began, much larger doses than Mom had been using, and by the time I was discharged from the hospital my training bras were tight.

The next two years I rapidly developed into a normal looking girl, and I received a thorough indoctrination in house-work.

I am now 56 years old and still tied to Mom’s apron strings by that damned diaper. I have no control of either my bladder or my bowels and work for Mom and my sister as a house-maid. I still suck my thumb and can only change my diaper in Mom’s presence. Physically I am a good-looking middle-aged woman, seemingly rather retarded, for in speaking I have a very limited vocabulary, only what was fed to me by Helen during the hypnosis sessions. I have no sex life, of course; how could I in my condition? My chief enjoyment lies in shopping and buying sexy dresses and lingerie; fortunately Christine and Mom are generous in this regard.

My chief worry now is Mom’s health. What shall I do about changing my diaper if Mom dies?

 

© 2000
The above work is copyrighted material. Anyone wishing to copy, archive, or re-post this story must contact the author for permission.