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CHAPTER TWO: Taste of the Good Life
So, here I am, now officially a nineteen-year-old girl going on three. I have just agreed to the request of two people to try to understand their infantilist son by undergoing a month's worth of full-time baby treatment. Mommy and Daddy (as I am expected to call them now) started immediately. As soon as I said I agreed, they got going. My new Mommy led me to the bathroom and began undressing me as soon as we got in. Daddy walked in moments later with a adult disposable diaper and a dark red T-shirt. Mommy apologized ahead of time, as all the stuff they had was for a boy I'd have to make due for a brief time until some girl's clothes could be ordered for me. Mommy pulled off my ratty second-hand T-shirt and undid the bra. I covered my chest a bit and gestured nervously at my new daddy.
"He'll be taking care of you just as much as I will." Mommy explained as sat me on the bathroom floor and started untying my shoes, "I'm not fond of it, myself. But it's best the both of you get used to this kind of situation so neither of you will be embarrassed by it."
I couldn't help but notice then that he was blushing beet red at the sight of me. Trying not to look but at the same time not quite resisting. Mommy had a point, so I didn't fight when she pushed my arms away from my chest and lay them at my side. After my shoes and socks were off, she had me lift up so she could get to my pants and underwear. This is when I really began to blush. Not just from being completely nude in front of two people I'd just met. I'd been in the same clothes for a few days now, that included the panties. Embarrassing, but at least nobody commented on it. After the days-old panties were removed I noticed the sound of running water. Daddy had begun running a bath while Mommy undressed me.
They helped me into the tub and began to bathe me, just as if I were a baby. Daddy put in some bath toys and bubbles while Mommy started washing me. Being on the streets for a while, I was a bit of a mess all around. The bath felt wonderful. The fact that other people were handling the scrubbing and cleaning only made it easier to relax for the first time since I got kicked out of the motel.
"It feels like I'm at a spa..." I murmured as they worked. I thought I heard my new parents giggle, but I didn't care. Not about anything. Not at that time. I just laid back and let them do their thing. Eventually Mommy had me sit up so she could wash my hair. I snapped back to reality a bit her hands got caught in the mass of uncombed tangles my short head of hair had become. Daddy took advantage to start explaining some of the house rules to me.
"Cady, as I said before, we will treat you no differently than we would any child of your, well, age."
I nodded, remembering that, from this day on, I wasn't even three years old.
"Most of the rules we'll just learn as we go. The basics though, Mommy and I have already figured out.
"First and foremost, you will be diapered all day, every day. You will also be expected to use your diapers, with one exception. Mommy and I aren't all too thrilled at the idea of dealing with an adult's dirty diapers. And I'm sure you're not too keen on making them dirty."
"Not re-ow!" I said as Mommy continued to wash my hair and caught a tangle.
"We didn't think so." Daddy said as Mommy apologized, "So, while you're at home, you can use the toilet for that purpose. But you are only allowed to use the home toilet. If we are anywhere besides the house you're stuck with your diapers for whatever you need to do."
I wasn't too sure I liked the sound of that. Mostly because, the way my luck often turned, I would almost certainly end up in exactly such a situation. I didn't look forward to having to hold it in for who knew how long. I looked forward even less to the possibility of having to soil myself in public. I nodded my understanding though. If those were the rules, then those were the rules, and I wasn't in much of a position to tell them to shove it.
"Finally, just in case you get the idea that you can trick us into letting you use the toilet instead of your diapers, if Mommy or I put you on the potty and you don't have a bowel movement, then you'll be forbidden from using the toilet for the next twenty-four hours. Is this first rule understood?"
I nodded. Simple enough, gotta pee in my diapers, can poop in the toilet, but only when at home. So as to not abuse that privilege, if I got on the pot and didn't go then I was stuck messing myself later.
Daddy moved onto clothing next. When at home, I would be dressed exactly as a baby. Mommy started to go on about some of the cute girl outfits she'd seen while researching their son's baby clothes that they could get her. When she finished Daddy continued, saying that for the first few days, to help everyone adjust to the new situation a bit, I would wear only a diaper and a T-shirt (he held up the two items for emphasis). I assumed he was thinking of the "We gotta see it so we gotta get used to it" thing Mommy mentioned when me and Daddy got embarrassed earlier.
For trips outside the house, adult clothes would be available, but they would still be somewhat childish in appearance. Cloth diapers or thin disposables would also be used for the sake of being discreet. I found it good to know at least they weren't going to make a point of humiliating me in public. He ended it by saying that all clothes I would wear would be decided by himself or by Mommy. As a baby, I had no say in the matter. If I didn't like it, Daddy said, I could just simply not wear anything.
Despite sitting in a bathtub being washed by other people, I maintained just enough modesty to find that a suitable threat.
Next up on the rule list was behavior. To put it simply, I was supposed to act like a baby. To put it into detail, I was to speak as little as possible. If I did have to speak, I was to make myself sound as childish as possible. I could roam the house freely for the most part, except that Mommy and Daddy would put up baby gates at doors to rooms I wasn't allowed in. Obviously, baby gates would do little to stop a girl who was just shy of five and a half feet, but it was more for boundary marking than anything.
Punishment for misbehavior consisted mainly of a following of the idea that "if you can't obey by choice, that choice gets taken away." If I spoke out of turn or back-talked, I'd have a pacifier stuck in my mouth and strapped on so I couldn't remove it. If I were caught somewhere I wasn't supposed to be, I'd be confined to my room and/or my room's corner. And so on and so on.
As all this made its way into my head, Mommy finished washing me and began to drain the tub. While I was being toweled off Daddy (currently blushing about as much as I was) asked if those basic rules would be acceptable.
"Sure, I guess." I replied. Nothing there sounded outrageous. It was almost a walk in the park, so long as I behaved as expected.
"Good." Daddy said, "In that case, we'll go over the financial details in the morning. For now, let's get you ready for bed."
I was about to complain it wasn't very late. Then figured, if I was a baby, I had a baby's bedtime. So I didn't resist when Mommy laid me down on the bathroom floor. She put a bundled up towel to pillow my head so it didn't sit on the linoleum. She took the disposable diaper Daddy had brought in and unfolded it. As she had me lift my bottom so she could put it on I knew this was it. For the next month this (diapering, wiping, powdering) would be a regular occurrence. I started to have second thoughts as Mommy helped me sit up and started putting on the red T-shirt.
They faded fast, though, as I decided to wait and hear about the "financial details" before I made any final decisions about committing to this or backing out. It'd give me a chance to get used to wearing diapers a bit as well as get an idea of what kind of treatment I could expect from this very unusual arrangement.
I was taken back to the nursery, there was a noticeable bit of extra noise when I moved now, courtesy the plastic on my diaper. It was somewhat thick too, I wasn't waddling or anything, but my legs were just a little further apart than I was used to. Mommy led me to the nursery and told me to wait there a moment while they got me something for bed. While they were gone, I happened to catch sight of myself in a mirror that was right next to the door.
Aside from the diaper just ever-so-slightly peeking out below the hem of my T-shirt, I looked about as normal as I ever did. Brown hair, blue eyes, medium height, slightly less-than-average build. Actually, on second look, I appeared to be better than normal. Probably because I'd just gotten out of a relaxing warm bath and that it had been my first for a few days. My light brown hair, which went down to just past my shoulders, was clean for the first time in a while and almost seemed to shine. It smelled too, seeing as Mommy had used some baby shampoo that was scented. But it was a nice smell. One I could get used to very quickly.
Mommy and Daddy came back into the room after little more than a minute. In Mommy's hand was a slightly larger-than-normal baby bottle. The nipple was bigger too, better suited to an adult's mouth than a typical baby bottle nipple. I watched as Daddy let down the bars on the crib so I could climb into it. He put them back up right away and Mommy handed me the bottle through the bars. She asked if I wanted a story. When I replied no, she just gave me a kiss on the forehead and wished me a good night.
I laid there in the near dark (lit up slightly by a night light) and looked at the bottle. I couldn't remember the last time I'd gone to sleep with a ba-ba. Curiosity getting the better of me, I tentatively tried sucking on the nipple. Inside the bottle was warm milk, which tasted quite good, really. I don't remember how long I drank for, but I know that, before I was midway through the bottle, the warm milk had taken effect and I was out cold for the remainder of the night.
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