Memories 5

I was surprised to discover how much I enjoyed doing this. Of course the fact that sitting in the playpen with messy diapers made me feel very babyish was a big part of this feeling of wellbeing. But there was more . I was very aware of the sensual feeling of the poop coming out of my little hole and of the soft, warm mass, engulfing my private parts.  I even liked the smell.”



You will find the preceding chapters of this story in “categories” under “Memories”, with the different chapters in reversed order. To find the first chapter you just have to scroll down to the bottom.


Chapter 5

The next day Jennifer had some shopping to do and we drove to a brand new shopping small, a concept we didn’t know in Europe yet at the time. She made me put on grey, tight fitting, shorts, under a white polo shirt, which made me look like an English school boy. I hated the boring look, but realized that I couldn’t go shopping wearing a dress or baby clothes of course.

In the mall we went to a department store where Jennifer was looking at the baby clothes when I was attracted by the girl’s clothes section a little bit further. Going over there to have a closer look, my attention was caught by a collection of accessories. I suddenly longed to be a girl again and to be able to wear colorful bracelets, hairpins and earrings.

Looking furtively around if nobody was watching me I tried on a couple of bracelets and watched myself in the mirror. I looked silly wearing bracelets with boy’s clothes but nevertheless I tried on other stuff. I was soon completely absorbed by it, trying to imagine how it would look if I wore a dress, and didn’t notice Jenifer coming over – pushing David in his stroller – until she was standing next to me: “They look lovely on you”. I jumped up, blushing once more. Jennifer looked at the rack and taking out a headband with a big flower attached to it, suggested its color would go well with the bracelets I was wearing, and before I could react she had me try on the headband. This encouraged me to go on trying other stuff, under the amused eye of Jennifer. After a while I decided which bracelets, and which butterfly-shaped hairpins I liked most, and she offered to buy them for me. At that very moment a salesperson came over: “Going to a hippy party?” Jennifer was as surprised as me and was speechless for a split second, but then smiled at the saleswoman: “Yes indeed, he is invited to a themed birthday party where everybody has to be dressed a hippy. We just made our choice, didn’t we Chris?”  Not able to speak I nodded and handed the selected accessories to the saleswoman, following her to the cash register.

I was all excited, thanking Jenifer with a big hug, and, with the prospect of putting on my new things, was ready to go home immediately. But Jennifer had more shopping to do and we continued. A little while later David messed up his diapers and Jennifer, taking him to the changing room, told me to wait for them in the toys’ store that we had just passed. As I obediently turned around to go to the shop she stopped me. Thanking me for having been such good company since I had arrived she wanted to buy me a real present, telling me to go and choose something in the store. I was of course very excited and giving her another hug wanted to hurry to the store, but when Jennifer asked if I had any idea what I was going to look for I had no clue. She smiled, and bending over she whispered in my ear: “I think my little baby girl would love to have a nice dolly, don’t you think so?”  Once more I turned all red, but she was right, I would love to get a nice doll.

Entering the store I went straight to the dolls section where I was overwhelmed by the choice. At first I was attracted to the life size baby dolls, but then my attention got caught by the Barbie’s and Dawn dolls, only to go back to the talking  and walking mechanical dolls. I would have loved to have them all. As could have been expected after a while I was interrupted by a salesperson who asked if I needed any help. Blushing for the umpteenth time that day I stuttered I was just looking. The woman gave me a strange look and then insisted, asking if I was looking for something specific. I managed to answer that I was looking for a present for my little niece.

The attitude of the saleswoman changed completely: “Oh, how nice! And how old is your little niece?” Again I was completely taken by surprise and stammered I didn’t know. Very patiently the woman asked if my niece was going to kindergarten. By that time I was recovering my senses and I answered she was going to start primary school. The next question was how much I had planned to spend on the present. Again I couldn’t answer, but luckily Jennifer arrived at that moment.  She was clearly intrigued by the scene and asked if I had made my choice. Relieved I answered I couldn’t make up my mind as I didn’t know how much I could spend. Generous as always Jenifer answered that was of no importance, I just had to choose what fancied me most.

Afraid that the saleswoman would find out the doll was for me I wanted to get it over with as fast as possible. I took a large life-sized baby doll out of the rack and said I thought Beth would love that one. Jenifer understanding what I had told the lady, laughed, and began teasing me: “Don’t you think Beth is somewhat old for that?” The saleswoman interrupted her by saying that she understood the little girl was 6 and that many girls of that age loved the doll.

Jenifer corrected her: “Oh no, the girl is 11 years old!” And then she turned to me in mock surprise: “But why have you said Beth was only 6?”  I was horrified and looked at her with pleading eyes. But she continued in her teasing way: “OK, let’s buy the doll and if Beth doesn’t like it you can keep it yourself. I guess that’s what you are really after, no?”  The horror continued when she turned to the flabbergasted woman and said in a confidential tone: “He will never admit it, but he loves to play with dolls”

The woman looked at us not knowing how to react, kept quiet, and taking the doll walked towards the cash register. Jenifer winked at me and then we followed the lady. While Jennifer paid the lady asked an assistant to gift-wrap the doll.  In the car the large pack was sitting between me and David, making me anxious to get home. But I was even more excited with the idea to put on the bracelets and hairpins that Jennifer had put in her bag. When getting home I asked Jennifer if I could put on my presents and open the package she told me to be patient, that she first wanted to diaper me before I had an accident. I loved to be diapered so I promised to be patient. When she had pinned on the diapers and pulled up the plastic pants she opened still another present that she had bought without me noticing it.

When I saw the pretty sundress that she took out I was overjoyed. It was a cute green dress that was fastened over the shoulders with blue ribbons knotted in nice bows. On the front it had 2 little fishes and a starfish with a smiling face on it. The skirt fell to my knees completely covering my diapers and plastic pants. As until then she had always dressed me with short dresses over assorted baby pants I began to wonder if she wanted to take me out dressed like this. Exciting, but at the same time disturbing, idea. With my short hairs I didn’t really look like a girl anymore although dressed like that people would still think I was one. But what if we met someone we knew?

When I was dressed she finally took out the small packs with the accessories and put two butterfly pins in my – short – hair, and helped me put on the bracelets. When she told me to look in the mirror I agreed I looked very cute, and completely girlish.

I spend the rest of the day happily playing with my new doll, sucking on a pacifier.

The next day Jennifer decided we would have a quiet day at home. I understood that that meant I was going to be babied all day but I didn’t mind. To be honest, I think I was very excited with the prospect of being a little baby for a whole day.

That morning, in what had become the daily scenario, baby David had woken me up by making little noises in his cradle. As the crib was too small for him and he risked falling by trying to climb out of it he was attached with a baby harness. But that didn’t seem to annoy him at all. The harness permitted him to sit on his knees to play. As I woke up I also sat on my knees holding the side panel of my cod with my hands and we “talked” to each other making funny noises until Jennifer came to take us out of bed.

She lowered the side panel of my cod bed and checked my diapers (“Gosh Chris, your diapers are soaked! But I guess they will hold out until after breakfast.”) , took David out of his crib (“You are almost as wet as your big sister.”), and, taking me by the hand, led us to the kitchen.

David was installed in his high chair and she fastened a bib around both our necks and then served us a bowl of oatmeal that she spoon-fed simultaneously to the two of us giving a spoonful to each one alternatively

After breakfast we went to the bathroom where she took off our wet diapers and we were put in bath. I loved to play with little David in the water, holding him between my legs and having water run over his face as his shrieked with pleasure. Or sitting on opposite sides of the bath facing each other with our legs open and making the plastic ducks and boats float to each other. But the best moment of the bath was of course standing up and having Jennifer wash me from top to toe.

After bath she first diapered David. I loved to watch her put on the little baby’s diaper.  To watch how she laid him down on the changing table, richly powdered his chubby legs, softly rubbing the powder everywhere, and then lifting his legs pushing the folded cloth diaper underneath his bottom, fold the diapers around his legs and fasten them with safety pins, to end the whole process with pulling up plastic pants. She next dressed him in a short legged romper fitting around his short chubby legs with elastics.

I loved to watch the whole process knowing that next it would be my turn. She told me to wait while she carried David to his pen. When she came back she told me to come out of the bath and then wrapping me in a large towel dried me vigorously. Next I had to lay on the ground where she, kneeling next to me, proceeded exactly in the same way as with David. I loved the feeling and the smell of the baby powder, but the high point was always the moment she tightly folded the heavy cloth diapers around my legs and fastened them with safety pins. But having to stand up so that she could pull up the plastic pants, having them snap around each leg, was almost as good. I was happy to see she took out the sundress from the previous day for me to wear again.

When I was ready she took out some toys and sat down on the floor with us to play. I began building a tower with the building blocks and proudly showed her how good I was. David tried to imitate me but of course wasn’t able to put more than two blocks on top of each other. I made fun of him, in a friendly teasing way. Jennifer seemed amused by the idea that I was making it seem like a competition between me and the 9 month old baby.

She went away and came back holding a roll of duck-tape in her hands. Telling me to come over she told me to hold out my hands and proceeded to tape my fingers together, leaving only my thumbs free. She smiled broadly: “Let’s see who builds the best towers now.”

I soon discovered how hard it was to take the blocks with bandaged hands and to try to deposit one block on top of the other this way. But after a few attempts I got it under control and was rewarded with a big hug from Jennifer. As in the meantime David had messed up his pants she was going to change him but before leaving me alone handed me a coloring book and pencils, instructing me to try to keep within the lines as well as possible.

Coloring with my fingers taped together proved to be extremely hard and the result looked as if a 2 year old had been doing it. But this didn’t annoy me at all, on the contrary realizing she was turning me ever more into a baby made me feel happy.

When Jennifer came back she looked at my work, smiled, and sitting next to me gave me a kiss, telling I was doing great. She had put David in his playpen and told me to join him, after what she disappeared to the kitchen soon coming back holding a baby bottle of milk for each of us.

When we had finished drinking our bottles she asked if we wanted to go out for a walk in the garden. It was a rhetorical question to which she wasn’t expecting any answer. Nevertheless, looking at the way I was dressed, I wanted to tell her I thought we were doing fine at home but she anticipated it by taking my hand and telling me to climb out of the pen as she was going to change me into a more appropriate outfit. I happily followed her to the bathroom where she first checked my diapers – which were still dry – and then took off the dress, and untaped my fingers.

She helped me into a white dress shirt with a Peter Pan collar. This wasn’t exactly the kind of shirt that 12 year old boys wore but I was already relieved she wasn’t taking me out wearing a dress, so I led her button up the shirt. She then took out a garment I had never seen before. It was a kind of short-all but without a waste and with short wide pipes, closing with a zip in the back. It looked like a kind of straight jumper dress of which the skirt had been replaced with shorts. I wasn’t very sure I liked it but Jennifer told me I would be very cute in it and so I let her help me putting it on. The outfit was completed with white knee-high socks and white open shoes.  I knew it looked very childish but  again with Jennifer insisting so much that I looked lovely I didn’t protest.

A little later we were walking in the park surrounding the building were we lived, me in my childish outfit pushing little David in his stroller. We went straight to the part of the garden where a small play park with a large sandbox was installed. Jennifer took some toys out of a bag, installed David in a quiet corner of the box and helped him playing. It didn’t took very long before she had me sitting in the sand next to David, playing with little forms too, while she installed herself with a book on a bench.

After a while I suddenly heard voices behind my back and when I turned saw Jennifer talking with a girl one or two years older than me, wearing riding pants, boots and a riding cap. I immediately recognized her. Jennifer had introduced me to her and a couple of her friends a couple of days earlier, when we had run into them when preparing to leave for my grandfather’s party. I had been very proud of the admiring way the girls had looked at me with my smart blazer and dress pants. Now she was looking at me in a very different way, her mouth open in amazement.

Blushing very hard I completely froze. But then, without realizing what I was doing, I rose and walked towards them, automatically swiping the sand of my bottom. Feeling how the slightly humid sand had wetted my bottom I suddenly became very aware of my diapers.  At that moment I heard Jennifer asking the girl if she had some time: “I should go over to Julian – the janitor – to make some arrangements, but don’t want to leave my two boys on their own. Can you keep an eye on them while I walk over to him? It won’t take long”

I turned even redder and the girl didn’t know how to react. As I stammered that I could watch over David, Jennifer smiled gently: “I know darling. I love to watch how the two of you play well together, but still, I would feel safer if I knew someone a little older would keep an eye on the two of you.”  She turned again to the girl who was still flabbergasted but, beginning to get intrigued and amused by the situation, said she had nothing else to do and would be glad to wait for Jennifer to come back.  Jennifer thanked her, tapped me on the bottom – reminding me even more that I was wearing diapers and plastic pants – and told me to rejoin David.  Meekly I turned away feeling the eyes of the girl in my back … and on my bottom.

I sat down in the sand next to David but wasn’t able to play anymore. I was just sitting there when she walked over to us: “How old are you?”  I turned around and looked into her sincerely curious face. Realizing she was not trying to make fun of me I answered truthfully:  “Twelve, and in a couple of months I will be 13.”  “Wow, you look younger! I am 13 but I will be 14 in 3 weeks. Why do you wear such childish clothes?”  I blushed once more: “Euh, because my cousin Jennifer makes me.” “She does?”  I felt like I was accusing Jennifer of doing me wrong so I added that I liked the outfit. “It is very convenient for playing”. I immediately realized that attiring her attention to the fact that I was playing in a sand box was not a very smart thing to do.  She looked at what I had been doing and noticed the little figures of flowers and animals I had made in the sand using plastic forms. She realized baby David was way too you young to have made them: “Have you made those?” I nodded. “Yeah, I was showing how to do it to David.” I lied.

She looked at me ever more intrigued. “Can you show me too?” This time she was making fun of me but not knowing what else to do I filled a form of a little duck with sand, pressed the sand in it, and then, having prepared a flat place in the sand, I tuned the form around and posed it on the flat part. When I took away the form I had made a nice duck in the sand. I looked at the girl who clapped her hands in mock congratulations: “That’s a nice duck you have made!”

Knowing she was making fun of I looked down. “What more can you do? Let’s see what other toys you have brought.” She looked around and discovered a large plastic sifter. “Ah, do you know how to make sugarcoated pastries?” I immediately understood what she meant. I hesitated for a second but then nodded and taking the sifter, filled it with dry sand and sifted it on top of some of the small sand figures.  Again she clapped her hands,  but at that moment David, who had been playing on his own, lost his balance and falling with his face in the sand began crying. The girl immediately took him in her arms and, trying to sooth him, walked away with him. When he stopped crying she put him in the grass and taking a large plastic ball rolled the ball towards him. He was able to grasp it and then, on her asking, pushed it back towards her. As the lawn was slightly sloping and he was sitting higher than she, the ball slowly rolled in her direction. She congratulated him loudly and then repeated the little game. I watched them from a distance, relieved the attention had been turned away from me, but at the same time I felt slightly jealous.

After a few minutes she noticed I had stopped playing and was watching them. She smiled, and in a condescending way, asked if I wanted to join them. My first instinct was to say no, but she half-mockingly insisted and a few seconds later I was sitting next to them pushing the ball from one to the other. I tried to assume the same attitude as the girl, participating but making it clear that I did it to help her take care of the little baby.

When David pushed the ball in the wrong direction and it slowly rolled away, I jumped on my knees and crawled on hands and knees behind the ball. Doing so I exposed my bottom to the girl, not aware that the pipes of my jumper had shifted upwards and that on each side the plastic pants were showing.

When I turned around I looked straight in her surprised eyes. She was watching me open-mouthed, wanting to say something but unable to do so.  Following her gaze I looked down and suddenly realized what she had seen. Blushing again I instinctively pulled the pipes of my shorts down, looking around for a way out of this more than awkward situation.

At that moment I heard the voice of Jennifer: “He is a very special boy, isn’t he?” Both the girl and I turned around looking straight into the smiling kind face of my cousin. “Chrissie and I think that nowadays kids grow up way too fast. That’s why we decided that he could be a little kid as long as he wanted to. Isn’t that sweet?”

The girl look at me even more flabbergasted. Then, thinking it was a joke, she erupted in a loud laugh: “Sure you like to dress like a moron, and to wear diapers?”  I wanted to answer that indeed I did, but Jenifer, probably understanding that the girl was not going to understand anyway, changed tactics: “Oh no, that is something else! I make him wear diapers because when he plays he wets his pants sometimes and when that happens that’s so embarrassing for the poor boy. Besides I don’t like to have to wash his clothes all the time.”

I looked at her in disbelief. The girl had stopped laughing, ever more surprised with the situation, but, deciding to belief Jenifer’s explanation, gave me a look filled with pity. Jennifer decided it had been enough, that it was time to separate us from the girl, so before she could react Jenifer thanked her and began putting the toys in the bag saying it was time for her two babies to take a little rest, “as they surely were very tired after playing so well.”

The girl, relieved to be able to leave us, gave a kiss to David, said good bye to Jennifer, and then turning awkwardly to me,  didn’t know what to do. She murmured a good bye in my direction, vaguely waving with her hand, and then turning on her heels, hurried away.

I felt horribly humiliated but at the same time having the girl think I really didn’t control my bladder made me feel really small and that was a nice feeling. When Jennifer had installed David in his stroller and began pushing him, she extended her hand which I eagerly grabbed. I vividly remember as if it was yesterday, walking at the hand of my beautiful, loving, cousin, nervously looking around, afraid we might run into the girl and her friends. But at the same time holding Jennifer’s hand reassured me, and I think I secretly hoped to meet the girl on our way home, because I was proud to be Jennifer’s little kid.

At home Jennifer put us in bed for our nap, wearing nothing but diapers, plastic pants and a little shirt. Those naps too had become a habit. I remember that in the beginning I had problems falling asleep in the middle of the day, but after a while I got used to it and fell asleep immediately. After about an hour she woke us up to have lunch. Before falling asleep I of course had wet my diapers, because I had become addicted to the feeling of the warm wetness spreading around my bottom. When Jennifer told me to come out of the cod bed she checked my diapers and feeling the heaviness between my legs laughed, saying I was becoming a real baby. She put on our bibs, and spoon-fed the vegetable mash to her two babies. By that time I didn’t even think about eating by myself anymore.

After lunch she changed my diapers and dressed me in a cute romper she had knitted herself. It was made in a pink and white gingham fabric, with a plastic lining. It consisted of baby pants, closing with press buttons on either side, and fitting with elastics around the legs, with a bib and braces that crossed in the back. I was the most babyish outfit she had ever asked me to wear but I didn’t care. On the contrary I loved it.  And I wasn’t surprised when she taped my fingers again, this time even including my thumb.

The afternoon we stayed inside playing, interrupted only for the fruit mash, after which David was put back in bed for another nap, but I was allowed to stay up. At the end of the afternoon she served both of us some sandwiches with jam which she had cut in small pieces and of which she had discarded the crumbs, and then the 3 of us sat on the couch with Jenifer in the middle, reading from a children’s book. Suddenly I felt I had to relief my bowels. When I asked Jennifer to help me to the toilet, – with my taped hands I couldn’t do it myself, but anyway I was becoming so used to being helped with everything I would have asked her even if my hands had been free -, she looked a little bit annoyed having to interrupt the reading, but then smiled maliciously: “Why do you think you are wearing diapers?”

I looked at her in disbelief, she couldn’t be serious. But she smiled calmly: “Don’t be shy. All little babies mess their diapers”. And she resumed reading. I couldn’t decide to do it so I sat back and tried to get interested in the story again, but grew increasingly uncomfortable. Some ten minutes later we came to the last page of the book and Jennifer took David to give him his bath telling me to climb into the pen and to be a good boy playing by myself.

Once in the pen the need to relief myself became too big. I sat on my knees and, pushing, I immediately felt some poop coming out. I was surprised by the swiftness and, ashamed by what I had done, sat down. I felt the poop spread out a little bit and I liked the feeling. I sat back on my knees and pushed again, longer than the first time, and felt the warm sticking mass coming out looking for a place in my diapers. Sitting down again I began shifting back and forth on my bottom, feeling the poop spread all over.

I was surprised to discover how much I enjoyed doing this. Of course the fact that sitting in the playpen with messy diapers made me feel very babyish was a big part of this feeling of wellbeing. But there was more. I was very aware of the sensual feeling of the poop coming out of my little hole and of the soft, warm, mass, engulfing my private parts.  I even liked the smell.

When Jennifer entered the room she immediately smelled what had happened, and smiled: “Little Chrissie has done a big poopoo? That’s a good baby! Come, Jenny is going to have you all cleaned up!”

She reached out her hand which I grabbed, climbing out of the pen and following her to the bathroom to get washed and diapered again. I loved being washed nevertheless I would have like to keep my messy diapers a little longer. But there would be other days I thought happily.

–         To be continued  –


  1. i like this story very much. To be honest, i prefer it when the “baby” stays a boy but i know that others prefer them to be girls. A chaqu’un, son gout.
    But the love and sweetness of the relationship makes this a pleasure to read. Thank you so much

      • Thats sweet. How old is the little boy?
        I was thinking you might like to be the protagonist of the “english variation” of Andre’s holiday?
        PS How old is your mummy? I mean how old is she really? About your age?

      • I like to be treated as about 10 or 11. Big enough to have good conversations but small enough still to be bathed and tucked up in bed with my teddy bear. She likes me to wear clothes like schoolboy short trousers (and i love it too!).
        i am not sure of her exact age but i think she is in her early 40s (she would tan my bottom if she knew that i had written that!

      • Aren’t you a litle old to be bathed and tucked in by your mummy? And still sleeping with a teddy?
        I think your mummy likes to keep you small, doesn’t she? I am sure she helps you dress, and that sometimes she makes you wear diapers to bed, doesn’t she? And does she take you out wearing your schoolboy shorts?
        PS Where did you meet your mummy?

      • She’s my real mummy!
        Others may think that i am too old to be bathed but mummy is happy to do it and i love it. She DOES help me dress and, yes,i often go out wearing my short torusers. i am quite small and i look younger than i am so it doesn’t seem too odd. And i have ALWAYS slept with my teddy. i don’t think i could get to sleep if i didn’t have him to hug as i am falling asleep

      • Thank you.
        My father doesn’t really have any say. Mummy is firmly the one in charge. In fact, sometimes, if she’s annoyed with him she sends him to bed with me. He wouldn’t dare argue or he’d be punished.
        i’ve never had a girlfriend, not in the sense you mean it. i am not sure what happens but i sort of go to pieces when i am with just one girl (i am OK in a group) and i feel and (probably) look stupid. So it never goes beyond a limp conversation.
        My pals are all much younger than i am (skateboarding, cycling, that sort of thing. They seem OK with it

      • That’s exactly what I expected. 🙂
        I really think I’m getting inspired to write a story about you. Just a few more questions:
        – Do you have any siblings? Is so, older/younger? brothers/ sisters?
        – Have you been, or are you still, a bedwetter?
        – Up to wwhat age has your mother diapered you?

        Big hug


      • No i don’t have any brothers or sisters.
        Yes i was a bedwetter until i was about 12 i think. It was only at night so i had to wear a diaper (or nappy as we call them in England) when i was put to bed. It stopped when i was about 14 and i didn’t have to wear a nappy again until, for some reason, i started to wet the bed again when i was about 17. Mummy was OK with it for a time (it wasn’t every night) but eventually she said that i should wear a nappy again until it cleared up again.I think my father might have complained that our bedroon smelled a bit from my wee. (Did i say that he and i share a bedroom? We have a bunk bed and he sleeps on the bottom and i sleep on the top). Anyway Mummy had me back in nappies until it did stop. I think it might have been related to my anxiety about my exams because, when they were over, i was dry again.
        Is that helpful? I am excited and a bit scared about a story being written based on me!!!!

      • Tnx for answering my questions. Again what I expected 🙂 (Except for your father sharing your room ! )

        Don’t be scared, You’ll love it I think. But you’ll have to be patient. I don’t have a lot of time and I have a couple of stories planned to write before I can start on this one. So it will be several months …


      • Well, i am really looking forward to it whenever it comes! As you might imagine nobody has ever thought me interesting enough to write about before now! Wow is all i kep thinking! i know that it will be a story and not really about me but i’ll be there in some ways, won’t i?

        My father has always (or at least as long as i can remember) his room with me. I used to think it was the norm (you know: boys room, girls room) and i remember being surprised when i visited a friend’s house and, as we were going up to his room, we passed a room which he called “Mum and dad’s room”. i didn’t say anything but i remember thinking it weird. When i went home i mentioned it to Joey(father) and i was stunned when he said that that was the way it was in most homes but Mummy preferred it the way we were so, of course, that was how it was in our house.
        We never talked of it again.

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