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I am a nineteen-year-old girl. I have blonde hair, blue eyes, and stand five foot five inches and weigh just about 100 pounds.

For the past several months Mom has been getting on my case, saying that all I do is loaf around and leech off of her and Dad. She keeps saying that I'm no better now than when I was two years old, and that if I don't start acting my age, I'd get treated like a two-year old. Well, two weeks ago Mom really blew her stack, and told me she was going to teach me a lesson and show me just where I stand, just because I'd done something she didn't like, and a couple of things I didn't do that I should have.

Furiously, she ordered me to my room. A few minutes later she returned with a bag. Mom told me she was going to follow through with her threats, and teach me how to behave, and that she would have to start over with me as a baby.

"Now, go get a bath!" she ordered. Mom came into the bathroom and sat down on the side of the tub, undressed me and forced me into the water.

She gave me a bath, then handed me a razor.

"Shave it!" she ordered. I have a very sparse growth of pubic hair as it is, which I do keep trimmed in a bikini cut, but she wanted it all off. I was afraid not to do as I was told and, with teary eyes, removed every last hair from my crotch. Mom made me stand up and bend over, while she took the razor to my backside, removing all the little hairs around my anus. Now all signs of my maturity were gone! Then Mom told me to go to my room, and with her following I walked to my bed. Mom sat on the edge of the bed and ordered me to stand next to her. She gripped me by the arm and pulled my naked body across her lap, positioning my derier directly in front of her. She held me with her left hand and started swatting my bottom with her right. Mom spanked me HARD!!! I started yelling and crying, but to no avail, she just kept on hitting! The tears were real, and streamed almost endlessly down my cheeks. My butt burned, it felt as if it was truly on fire.

When the spanking was over Mom ordered me on my back on the bed so she could "take care of the baby girl". Mom dumped the bag onto the bed beside me and to my horror I could see exactly what she had in mind. Mom picked up a diaper and slid it beneath me. Next she grabbed some baby ointment and spread it on my burning ass. I have to admit that after the whipping I'd just received, the baby cream was a real relief. Following the cream came a sprinkling of baby powder and then Mom pinned the diaper into place. She reached over and retrieved the biggest pair of baby pants I'd ever seen, and slid them up my legs and over the diaper. Mom tucked the edges of the diaper into the baby pants and then handed me a tee shirt.

I was instructed to follow her to the kitchen, where I had to sit on the floor and drink from a baby bottle while she prepared dinner.

When the first bottle was empty, I was handed another while dinner simmered in the pot. I heard Dad's car pull into the driveway, so I knew help was on it's way. A few minutes later Dad walked into the door from work.

"What have we here?" he asked, grinning from ear to ear.

"It looks like I've got my baby girl back. I know I've been paying to care for her, now I finally get to see her!" There went my only hope for help, apparently Dad was in on this, too.

When Mom finally served supper she came up behind me at the table and tied on a bib, then she brought in the dinner of roast and vegetables and peas and corn, but didn't set any down for me.

"Your's is coming," is all she said.

She returned from the kitchen with a sectional plate, made up of all of the same foods, except that mine had been run through the blender and pureed to the consistency of baby food. I was told that I would either eat that or go hungry. Mom sat down beside me and spoon fed me the whole meal.

This was followed by another baby bottle of milk.

Later I tried to go to the bathroom and found the door locked. When I asked about it I was told by both of my parents that babies don't use the toilet, that's what my diapers were for. I held back for awhile, but soon wet myself. Daddy changed me this time, taking special care to clean me up and sprad on a new coating of baby ointment.

Later that evening I felt the need to poop, but was again instructed on how babies use their diapers, not the pot. As I lay on the floor drinking what was now my fifth bottle of milk, I could no longer hold it in and filled the back of my garment until it bulged. This time it was Mom's turn to change me, as Daddy said he wouldn't change shitty diapers.

Well, I've been in diapers for two weeks now and I see no signs of any change in this routine for a while. My parents have said that they are in no hurry to have their baby girl grow up just to get mouthy again, so I can look forward to at least the next several months of babying. Mom even read from the dictionary the other night where it said that an "INFANT" is anybody under 21 years of age, and then showed me where it says that a "DIAPER" is an infants breechcloth. That would indicate that I may have to live like this for another 22 months!!! Mom and Dad are going out tonight, and they hired a neighbor to babysit for me. I am truly anxious over this, as I thought this whole baby treatment was going to be a private thing, and now an outsider is going to be involved.

Mom is going to come in here in a minute, so I have to hide this letter so I won't get spanked.

I'm back. Mom changed my diaper and gave me a fresh bottle of warm milk to help me go to sleep. She told me to be a good baby for our neighbor and left the room. I feel like I'm going to have to poop soon and don't know how it's going to work out with her (our neighbor) changing me, but the way I'm starting to feel down there, it won't be long before I find out...

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