Living in Paradise 2

When he wanted to take his boxer shorts she stopped him: “You don’t want to wear such dull underwear anymore, do you?” handing him brief-type underpants, with a cute colorful teddy bear print. Smilingly he took them and was surprised to note that they were made of a thick soft fabric. Seeing his surprise she smiled too: “Now that you are naked down there we don’t want you to get cold, do we?”  He eagerly pulled  them on but although it was a full brief he had difficulty fitting his hard penis in them. Coming up behind him, she put his hands on his crotch and made him stroke his member through the pants. After having had a hard one for over an hour he came almost instantly ejaculating inside the briefs. As he was still trembling on his legs she whispered in his ear: “Except for keeping your wheezy warm, it also serves at absorbing your juices, dirty little boy.”

 

 

What happened before?

 

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

Or you can go to the “Index page” and click on the link to the first chapter, and from there follow the links each time to the next chapter

 

 

Chapter 2 October

 

George didn’t exactly have much hair on his legs, on the contrary, but still, wearing a skirt it didn’t seem right. The two girls looked at each other and laughing even harder than Benjamin, Nathalie concluded:

“George I’m afraid we’ll have to shave your legs.”

He looked at her with a desperate look in his eyes but before he could say anything she continued: “You promised to try George.”

 

He sighted deeply but then reluctantly agreed to have his legs shaven. As soon as he had entered the bathroom and they had told him to take off the skirt, Nathalie looked at his arms and turned towards her sister: “It’s not only his legs, we’ll have to take care of his arms to, don’t you think?”.  George, knowing it didn’t make sense to resist, became defiant. He undressed himself further, soon standing in front of them wearing nothing but his boxer shorts. The two girls went ballistic noticing his chest hair .

An hour later he found himself on the tennis court with shaven arms, chest and legs, wearing a short skirt.

 

When he had come out he had crossed Elisabeth who looking surprised had exclaimed:

-Well, well, George you’ll really do anything those girls ask you, won’t you? Be careful!

She had laughed heartily and gone on.

George had turned red but spurned on by Nathalie soon had found himself absorbed by the game. Nathalie played quiet well but George could more or less keep up with her. They both enjoyed the game a lot.

 

When the game was over – Nathalie won – they went for a short swim. Since George had brought swimming wear this time there was no clothing problem. While they were swimming the father came home. He was indeed an impressive figure. His name was Edward but George wouldn’t dream of calling him by the first name. It was the kind of person you always called sir. While he was being introduced by Nathalie both still dripping beside the pool they were joined by Julia and Elisabeth. Julia, as was the custom, took the lead again:

-Dad, I see you met already our new boarder.

George looked surprised first at Julia and then at Elisabeth. Did that mean he was accepted?

Elisabeth smiled warmly:

-You seem to be fitting in quiet well, don’t you think George? Or should I say Georgette?

They all laughed except for Edward who looked a little puzzled but didn’t seem to care.

-When are you planning to move in?

-Euh, tomorrow? No better make it Monday.

-All right. We’ll see you on Monday then

They all left, leaving George and Nathalie alone. She jumped around his neck.

-George I’m so happy.

So was he. But at the same time he was worried. What had he gone into?

 

 

 

On Monday afternoon George arrived carrying two heavy suitcases. He had been angry with himself for having changed the day of his arrival from Sunday to Monday. The day before he could have asked his father to bring him. But he had been surprised by the suddenness of the offer and being somewhat afraid of what was going to be expected of him, especially by Nathalie , in an automatic fashion had delayed his arrival with one day. This meant that he had had to travel by train and bus carrying the suitcases in which he had mainly packed his courses and books.

Julia ,as always in charge, had received him and seeing him all covered in transpiration had immediately called the housekeeper Andres to help him carry the suitcases to his second floor room. He was still unpacking when Nathalie charged into his room. She had just come back from her classes and, learning from Julia that George had arrived, hadn’t waited one second to come to welcome him. She flung her arms around him and gave him a warm kiss. After she had told him she had looked for him all over the university and he had explained he had had to travel with his heavy suitcases and therefore had decided to skip classes she went to her room next door to change into “something more comfortable”. As she was wearing tight fitting jeans under a polo shirt he wondered what was uncomfortable about those but didn’t say anything.

“Is it all right if I come back in a minute to help you unpack ?”

“I’m more or less done, but  you are welcome whenever you like.”

 

In literally one minute she was back. She had only changed the jeans for a very short denim dungaree dress. Spinning around she asked provocatively: “What do you think?”

Just as on Saturday George thought it looked rather childish but found her very attractive: “Nathalie, you are driving me crazy”. He hesitated for a second and then added: “Nathalie, I’ve fallen in love with you. From the first moment I saw you.”

 

She smiled understandingly as if to say she knew it all the time. But as he tried to take her in his arms she slipped away.

“Don’t you love me ?”

“No, not yet. But don’t look so upset, I’m sure that day will come. In the mean time we can be friends. But aren’t you going to put on some more comfortable clothes too?”

 

Looking at his jeans and t-shirt he wondered what could be more comfortable. But he should have known what she had in mind. She showed him some very small orange 4-pocket shorts, asking if he didn’t think they looked just lovely. He sighted but knowing he was not going to escape he took off his jeans and pulled on the tiny shorts. His shirt covered them almost completely wich was not too the liking of his friend. She turned around and after a few moments came back holding a pale blue t-shirt. It had a drawing of a pony in the front, and had short skewed sleeves, but above all, it was very short , so that it barely covered his belly. Before he had time to realise what he was wearing Nathalie exclaimed he looked marvelous, and told him to follow her as she was going top show him around the estate, as there were still a lot of places he hadn’t been show on Saturday.

 

He hesitated and asked if he shouldn’t go first ask Andres and Carmen if he could help with anything. Nathalie shrugged:”I don’t think you are expected to. It’s only your first day. But in passing we’ll check with Julia.”

 

Julia – who smiled when she saw his outfit for a moment losing her usual serious demeanor, – agreed to let him be free on his first day, and they spend their time together until dinner. Just as on Saturday George felt completely at ease with all of them. After dinner he went to his room to prepare his classes for the next day. Somewhat after 9 Nathalie came into his room to tell him he should take his shower: “Mom  always wants us, the “small ones”, to come downstairs “all set to go to sleep”  around bedtime.

“But it’s only nine o clock.”

“Bedtime usually is somewhere between 9.30 and 10. But don’t you worry, as long as there is no noise they never come to the second floor to check if we are asleep. I do most of my work then. Emma, the previous border, however usually came to her room around 11.00 and we had to make sure the lights were out at that moment.”

 

When he got out of his shower, wrapped in a bath towel, Nathalie was waiting for him in his room. She wore a very short romantic nightdress with lace straps crossing on her back. She looked cuter than ever. When she asked if he had decent pajama’s he had to admit that of course he didn’t. He always slept in his boxer shorts and a t-shirt. She had expected this and, handing him pajama’s, told  him that he had to be presentable but ready for bed, to go downstairs. He looked at her incredulous, she couldn’t be serious, was she?  But she insisted she was dead serious, assuring him that if he wouldn’t present himself neatly dressed to go to bed they would be in deep trouble.

He looked at the pajama’s noticing that they were of course rather girly consisting of a pair of  leggings and a long sleeved shirt with a drawing of  a kitty on the front, but he had already been told to wear worse outfts. He shrugged and put on the pyjama’s ready to brave the family.

 

Again Nathalie assured him he looked lovely. Entering the family room he got the usual amused looks of the audience, but everybody was already getting used to the way Nathalie had him dress, and nobody made a remark. Benjamin was wearing a pyjama set consiting of colourfull shorts and a shirt. But Emily was not dressed for bed at all. George shot a inquisitive look at Nathalie, but she just looked annoyed at her sister and shrugged, before sitting down next to Benjamin proposing her to play cards. The girl accepted immediately and, smiling again Nathalie motioned to George to sit next to her – she didn’t even bother asking him if he wanted to join them – and then asked Emily if she wanted to play with them. The 14 year old girl gave them a superior look: “What game are you going to play? Not Blowout again?” Both Benjamin and Nathalie shrieked together: “Of course, we love that game!” Emily sighted and declined to join them: “Oh come on, that’s a babie’s game!”

 

Nathalie gave her another anoyed look but then, ignoring her, began distributing the cards beween the 3 of them, while she explained the rules to Georges. George was flabbergasted by the stupidity of the game. Each player received one third of the pack of cards, and then all 3 had to turn their top card. The one with the highest card had to add the 3 cards on the table to the bottom of his pack . When there was a draw the two with the equal cards had to turn another card from their respective packs, and the highest one had then to add all 5 cards to his pack. The winner of the game was the first to get rid of all his cards.

The two girls were soon completely absorbed by their game shouting and shrieking with each losses and wins. Georges found the game at first rather boring, but the way the two girls got completely into te game amused him, and he began enjoying it. But the noise annoyed the others and after having asked them to be quieter two times, Julia suddenly asked them why they didn’t play upstairs, so that the others could read in peace. Nathalie immediately accepted, and gathering the cards jumped up, and followed by Benjamin and Georges, left the room. Just as they were at the door Julia stopped Benjamin, telling her she couldn’t play very long anymore as she had to tun off the lights in 15 minutes. Georges looked at his watch noticing that it was 9.30.

 

They went to Nathalie’s room and, sitting on the floor, continued their game. After a while Emily came upstairs and seeing how the others were having fun hesitated for a moment but then joined them. Another 15 minutes later Julia shouted from the floor below that it was time to put out the lights. The girls lookked disapointed but obeyed immediately.

 

Lying on his back in his bed George realized he had not finished preparing next day’s classes and decided to get up early to finish the work. At that moment he heard the door of his room opening and some snickering, and before he could react he felt a person gliding besides him in his bed. All excited he realized that Nathalie had joined him, and impulsively he turned his head towards her wanting to kiss her. But she put her hand over his mouth and pushed him back. Wondering what she was up to he didn’t resist. But before he could relax he sensed a second person joining him on the other side, and Nathalie whispering in his ear: “ Emily and I are here to ask you a favour.”  Ever more excited he whispered back that she could ask him anything.  He felt her hand gliding down towards his waist while she kissed him on his lips and then continued to whisper in his ear: “You are so sweet. Listen, Benjamin has never seen a naked boy, and that frustrates her a great deal. Could you take off your pants for her?”

 

Not believing what he was hearing, he sat up, pushing away the two girls:  “Are you mad? No, I am not going to get naked for her, no way!”  At that moment someone turned on the light and the following events went very fast as if everything had been planned. He looked right into the eyes of Benjamin who was standing at the end of his bed, while Emily with a strong hand pushed him back on his back again, and Nathalie held the elastic waistband of his payjama pants in her hand, looking at him with a disapointed face: “Come on Georges, you promised you would do whatever I asked you.” And without waiting for his further reaction pulled down his pants and boxers, revealing his jewels.

 

Benjamin immediately began laughing very hard: “Ugh, how ugly”. Nathalie joined in: “Oh my god, what a bush! We will have to remove all that ugly hair and make you smooth all over, just as we did with your legs. But that’s not for today.”  Georges sighted deeply, but decided the best thing to do was not to react, so he led himself sink into his cushion. But the girls had more in mind. He felt Nathalie grab his dagger and softly stroke it: “Look Benjamin, how it grows.”  To his horror Georges felt how his weapon indeed began swelling while the 3 girls shrieked with delight. He closed his eyes hoping it would all be over soon. But again that was too optimistic.

 

Nathalie began stroking his manlyhood in a more rhytmic fashion, making it grow even more. Nathalie made admiring remarks in a surprised voice, all the time continuing to stroke: “Look Benjamin, it will start spitting any moment now.” It was only then that Georges realized what she was up too.

 

But it was too late, a few moments later a large jet spouted while Benjamin shrieked in disbelief and Emily grunted that is was gross. But Nathalie gave him a soft kiss, thanking him, and congratulating him (“Quiet impressive!”), before taking her little sister by the hand, and telling Emily to come with her. When the girls were out George looked at his sperma-covered pajama pants and sheets. He wanted to clean up but was afraid to run into one of the girls on his way to the bathroom, and decided to go to sleep. He felt very ambiguous towards the whole event. Masturbating in front of the girls had been humiliating, but Nathalie’s final comment made him feel proud. He had a restless night.

 

The following morning Nathalie came into his room all dressed, while he was still slumbering, waking him up with a kiss. She did as if she didn’t notice his stained sheets, telling him simply that she would see him at the breakfast table, and that he should hurry.  Realizing he had overslept and that he wouldn’t have time to prepare his class he felt a small pang of guilt, but without worrying too much he quickly washed and dressed, hurrying to join the others.

 

For breakfast everybody had to take care of himself, choosing and preparing one’s own food. With all 9 of them busy walking around, sitting, standing, eating, cooking, drinking  it was a happy, noisy, gathering. Once again Georges felt himself in paradise, forgetting the stranger aspects of his stay.

 

After school he hurried home, conscious he would have to work in the household, and this time he wanted to reserve some time to prepare his classes. When he got to his room he immediately noticed the clothes that had been placed on his bed with a short letter from Nathalie. He looked with horror at the small yellow shortalls and the white shirt with a small yellow Peter Pan collar and yellow rimmed short sleeves. Was she really expecting him to wear this outfit?

He took the letter and calmed down immediately. She told him she was so happy that she had convinced her sister to take him as the new household help, that he had been wonderful so far, accepting good humoredly all her quirks and demands, that he was the nicest person that she had ever met, that she was beginning to love him already.

After reading the letter he felt better and without further hesitation put on the childish, girly outfit she had prepared for him.  It was only then that he noticed someone had changed his bedsheets, and looking around, he realized that his stained pyjama’s were gone too. He felt embarrassed, hoping it had been Nathalie, not Carmen , or even worse Julia, who had done that.

On his way to the kitchen  he crossed Elisabeth who almost choked when she saw him: “Ho,ho, ho, Georges where is this going to end? I guess we will see you in rompers next time? Hahaha! ” George blushed very hard but she smiled at him “But you look very sweet. Nathalie is going to love it.”  Georges blushed even harder and hurried towards the kitchen.

 

When he entered the kitchen Carmen too was startled. She looked him up and down, and then turned around and went towards a corner of the kitchen where she took an apron off a hook, and handed it to him: “You better wear this before you get your pretty clothes all dirty. Kitchen work tends to cause stains.” Georges looked at the housewife’s bib-apron made of a flowery print fabric, and hesitated to put it on. The apron consisted of a half skirt that was nodded in the back, and a bib that hung around the neck with braces. Isabel had said that Nathalie would love his outfit, so he didn’t want to cover it with an apron. On the other hand he didn’t want to stain his new outfit, and judging from her eagerness to hand him the apron he realized Carmen would feel more comfortably when he would be wearing it over the childish shortalls.

 

When he put on the apron – which effectively completely covered the shorts – she looked at him approvingly, and put him to work, cleaning and cutting vegetables. A little while later Nathalie burst into the kitchen. She first looked somewhat disappointed but then, laughing, made him stand up, and turned towards Carmen: “He will make a perfect maid don’t you think?”  Carmen looked somewhat embarrassed but nodded hesitantly with a shy smile. Georges was still standing awkwardly, hesitating to sit down and continue his work, but he wanted to protest that he would do anything to please Nathalie but that he didn’t like it when she called him a maid, not in front of others at least. But before he could make up his mind she took him by the shoulders and made him turn around.  In the back the apron was completely open, and she padded him on the bottom, and bending over, whispered in his ear: “Your shortalls look lovely, can’t wait to see you without the apron. And cute shirt you are wearing. ”. Before he could react she had planted a kiss in his neck and had left them alone again.

 

At dinner time he took off the apron and joined the family at the table. His outrageously girly outfit got him a number of mocking remarks but when Nathalie sat down next to him and placed her hand on his knee he thought it was worth it. After dinner he hurried upstairs to work for the university. But he was soon interrupted by Nathalie who came into his room looking mischievously as usual: “Come on, there is still something that has to be done, remember?”  He hadn’t the faintest idea what she was referring too, but as always couldn’t resist her engaging, permanently mocking, smile. She took him by the hand and he followed her to the bathroom, where she told him to undress. At that moment he remembered, and to his amazement, got all excited by what he realized she was up too.

 

He had to undress completely and then stand on a newspaper she had brought, while she began cutting his pubic hair with a pair of small scissors. When she had cut all the hair short she applied a very thin layer of shaving foam. Of course this made his penis grow but that didn’t stop her from taking a razor and then gently, very slowly, shave him all clean. It took quite a while, but when it was done he loved the sight and the feeling of it. Nathalie too clearly liked it, telling him gently that he was now “as smooth as a baby, just as the rest of them”. Of course he would have suspected it if he had given it a thought but now this remark came as a revelation. Nathalie noticed it and asked if he wanted to see it, and without waiting his reaction began to undress. Soon she was standing completely naked next to him showing off her completely smooth private parts, asking teasingly if he liked it, completely ignoring the erection he had had for almost an hour, and then proposing to take a bath together. Again she didn’t wait for his answer, climbing into the bath and filling it with hot water, where he eagerly joined her.

 

When they were both sitting facing each other he couldn’t believe what was happening. But his surprises weren’t over yet. He had seen the little ducks and other floating toys sitting on the board but hadn’t really noticed them until she dropped them in the water. At first he felt a little awkward but then he soon followed her example playing with them splashing water all over. After a while she told him to stand up, and standing next to him began washing him with an handkerchief. When she got to the freshly shaven skin around his penis she asked if he didn’t prefer it this way. Looking down he earnestly answered he did. She told him to open his legs and washed his anus, pushing her finger slightly inside, then had him lift one leg, washed his leg and foot, and then the next. When she was finished she asked him to return the favor. He would never have dreamed that taking a bath could be such heaven.

 

Paradise continued when getting out of bath they dried each other from top to toe. When they were dry he was told to get dressed but when he took his boxer shorts where he had dropped them she stopped him: “You don’t want to wear such dull underwear anymore, do you?”, and handed him brief-type underpants, with a cute colorful teddy bear print. Smilingly he took them and was surprised to note that they were made of a thick soft fabric. Seeing his surprise she smiled too: “Now that you are naked down there we don’t want you to get cold, do we?”  He eagerly pulled them on but although it was a full brief he had difficulty fitting his hard penis in them. She put him in front of the mirror so that he could have a better look at the cute pants, and then coming up behind him, she put his hands on his crotch and made him stroke his member through the pants. After having had a hard one for over an hour he came almost instantly,  ejaculating inside the briefs. As he was still trembling on his legs she whispered in his ear: “Except for keeping your wheezy warm, it also serves at absorbing your juices, dirty little boy.”   Pulling the waist of the pants a little higher she continued: ”You see; now your little bird fits inside alright.”  He blushed which made her laugh.

 

Next she handed him new pajamas, consisting of a long short sleeved white shirt with a turquoise drawing of a flower and turquoise rims at the round collar and the sleeves, accompanied with assorted stretch shorts. Seeing what she wanted him to wear to go downstairs he sighted again, but this time from pure bliss.

 

When he got downstairs Julia was the only one who gave him a long look: “New pajamas? What happened to the others?” Once more Georges blushed, but before he could answer Nathalie came to his rescue: “The others were too warm for summer”. Julia seemed to accept the explanation and Natalie and Benjamin sat down to play cards again. But to Nathalie’s disappointment Georges declined to join them, going upstairs to finish his work.  Sometime later he heard that the girls had come upstairs but to his surprise Nathalie didn’t come to his room. When he finished his work he went to the bathroom and noticed Nathalie wasn’t sleeping yet as there was light coming from underneath the door of her room. He decided to go give her a night-kiss and knocked on her door. When she told him to come in he found her sitting in her bed, looking at him over the rim of a girly magazine in her bed: “Ah, Georges, what’s up?”  Walking over to her bed he told her he wanted to wish her good night. She looked surprised: “Oh, how sweet of you. But you know what, I have a better idea. You go back to your room and I join you in a minute to read you a bedtime story.”

 

Georges looked at her flabbergasted, but looking at her pretty, smiling face, the prospect of having her join him in his room to tell him a story was too appealing to refuse.  He agreed and hurried to his room. A few minutes later she entered his room, wearing a very short nightdress, telling him to push over, and joining him in his bed as he had hoped she would. When he noticed the children’s book she was holding he smiled. And when she put her arm around him and opened the book (“Martine fait de la bicyclette”) he was happy. It felt strangely perfect.

 

She read him a number of pages but then told him it was time to go to sleep and wanted to slip out of his bed. He protested she couldn’t go yet and held her by the wrist. She looked annoyed but then bent over and put her free hand on his crotch: “The little baby doesn’t want big sister to leave? But, it’s time for the little kids to go to sleep, tomorrow we have to be fresh.” All the while she was stroking his crotch and he felt his member swelling inside the pants, and he began breathing heavily.  “You like big sis to do that, don’t you? OK, I will make you feel good, but when you are ready you have to let me go, you promise?”  He felt ashamed that he was letting her masturbate him again, but couldn’t resist whispering “promised”.  He held out longer than the previous times, but nevertheless he soon felt how he ejaculated for the second time in his thick briefs. Nathalie sensed it too, and kissed him on the forehead: “Dodo big boy, see you in the morning.”

Before he could protest again she had slipped away and after putting out the light had left the room. He fell asleep, ashamed but happy, thinking at Nathalie and the strange events of the day.

 

–    Next Chapter:   https://clairodon.wordpress.com/2014/12/02/living-in-paradise-3/

 

 

 

 

La revanche 5

« Son amour n’était plus celui d’une pré-adolescente envers un autre jeune, mais plus-tôt celui d’une mère protectrice. Elle le traitait comme s’il était sa petite sœur, l’aidant avec tout ce qu’il faisait. Les jours qu’elle restait loger le moment suprême était le soir, avant le diner, quand elle l’aidait à se déshabiller, le lavait et puis lui mettait sa couche. Chaque fois elle débordait de sentiments tendres envers ce grand garçon dépendant. Lui par contre avait des sentiments mitigés. Il adorait être soigné par sa copine dont il était éperdument amoureux, mais en même temps il se sentait tellement humilié et impuissant »

Vous trouverez les chapitres précédents dans le “topic” « Revanche » en ordre renversée, le premier chapitre se trouvant tout à fait en bas.
Ou vous pouvez directement trouver le lien vers le premier chapitre dans la page « Index », et puis les liens vers les chapitres suivants chaque fois à la fin d’un chapitre.

Chapitre 5
Après le départ de Magali Alex était confus. Il aimait la fille et le fait qu’elle avait demandé si elle pouvait revenir l’avait rempli de bonheur. Mais puis elle l’avait appelé « mon petit bébé » et tout le monde c’était mis à rire. Les jours suivant il repassait souvent ce départ dans sa tête craignant qu’elle ait dit « mon petit bébé » dans le sens littéral du mot.

Mais comme promis elle revenait régulièrement et elle était aussi amoureuse que jamais, le couvrant de baisers et le tenant par la main partout où ils allaient. Mais son amour avait changé, ce n’était plus celui d’une pré-adolescente envers un autre jeune, mais plus-tôt celui d’une mère protectrice. Elle le traitait comme s’il était sa petite sœur, l’aidant avec tout ce qu’il faisait. Les jours qu’elle restait loger le moment suprême était le soir, avant le diner, quand elle l’aidait à se déshabiller, le lavait et puis lui mettait sa couche. Chaque fois elle débordait de sentiments tendres envers ce grand garçon dépendant. Lui par contre avait des sentiments mitigés. Il adorait être soigné par sa copine dont il était éperdument amoureux, mais en même temps il se sentait tellement humilié et impuissant.

A tel point qu’il désespérait. Il avait mis tant d’efforts pour s’adapter à sa nouvelle vie, à être à la hauteur des attentes de sa nouvelle famille, mais le résultat était le contraire. Il était de plus en plus le petit bébé de la famille, et le fait que Magali aussi le réduisait à ça le décourageait à tel point qu’inconsciemment il abandonnait à essayer de s’adapter et de s’améliorer. Il se laissait glisser dans la position d’un petit gosse dépendant et sans responsabilité.

Muriel le voyait immédiatement et comprenait ce qui se passait. Elle essayait de remettre le garçon sur la bonne voie en l’encourageant ou en le réprimandant, mais aucune des deux approches n’avait de l’effet. Un jour quand il avait de nouveau laissé trainer les jouets avec lesquels il avait joué sans les ranger, Muriel faisait une remarque, à quoi il avait répondu que Laure et Sophie avaient fait de même. Le fait que le garçon de 12 ans se comparait aux deux fillettes de 6 interpellait et amusait Muriel, mais elle réalisait qu’il avait raison, qu’elle était trop indulgente avec les petites, qu’il était temps de devenir un peu plus sévère avec elles.

Muriel n’avait donc pas insisté mais plus tard elle avait réfléchi à une manière pour encourager aussi bien Alex que les deux petites à devenir plus responsable.
Le lendemain après-midi elle prenait les 3 à part et leur expliquait qu’elle trouvait qu’il était temps que tous les trois devenaient un peu plus grand, mais qu’elle comprenait que ce n’était pas facile, pour les jumeaux par ce qu’elles avaient l’habitude d’être les plus jeunes, et pour Alex parce qu’il était un garçon – Il avait tellement l’habitude de ce genre de propos sexiste qu’il ne réagissait plus – . Muriel continuait donc en expliquant la méthode qu’elle proposait pour les aider à développer leur sens de responsabilité.

Pendant quelques secondes Alex croyait que c’était une blague, mais il connaissait entre temps trop bien la maitresse de maison et réalisait donc qu’elle était sérieuse. Il protestait, mais sans conviction, sachant que cela ne changerait rien. Par contre les deux petites étaient tout de suite très enthousiastes.

La méthode que Muriel avait conçue était qu’ils recevaient tous les trois une poupée et qu’ils devaient la soigner comme si c’était un vrai bébé. S’ils négligeaient leur protégée, ils seraient punis, la punition consistant en principe à être traité de la même manière que leurs poupées : S’ils ne la nourrissaient pas, ils ne mangeraient pas non plus, s’ils ne jouaient pas avec elle ils devraient jouer tout seul également, s’ils ne lavaient pas ses vêtements ils devraient sortir en vêtements sales aussi….

Quand Alex voyait les poupées type « baigneurs » que Muriel avait achetés il reprenait ses protestations avec plus de véhémence cette fois-ci. Il refusait même de prendre la sienne en main. Le résultat était qu’il passait le restant de la journée tout seul dans sa chambre. Le soir quand Emilie venait pour prendre leur douche elle apportait la poupée et plaidait pour qu’il s’arrête à se punir lui-même et insistait pour qu’ils prennent la poupée avec eux dans la douche. Quand elle argumentait que c’était trop bête de passer toute la journée tout seul pendant que les autres s’amusaient il n’avait pas eu de réponse et avait cédé. Emilie l’aidait à déshabiller la poupée et à la laver. En sortant de la douche Alex avait mis la poupée à côté de lui sur le lit pendant qu’Emilie lui mettait sa couche. A ce moment Muriel rentrait avec un paquet de Pampers pour nouveaux nés. Voyant que la poupée était toute nue elle souriait, et posait les Pampers également sut le lit: « Attention que ton bébé ne prenne pas froid ! Met lui vite sa couche et dans ton armoire tu trouveras un pyjama. Et dépêchez-vous, je vais servir le souper».

Avant qu’Alex ne puisse réagir elle était déjà repartit. Il hésitait quelques secondes mais, encouragé par Emily, il haussait ses épaules, et ouvrait le paquet, mettait une couche à son bébé, et puis lui enfilait un pyjama qu’il avait en effet trouvé dans son armoire, ensemble avec un petit tas de vêtements de poupées.

Quand Emily et lui arrivaient dans la cuisine la première chose qu’il attirait son attention était Laure et Sophie qui tenaient toutes les deux leurs poupées sur les genoux pour les nourrir au biberon. Quand Muriel le voyait rentrer sans poupée elle le réprimandait en disant que son bébé avait certainement faim. Alex ne se voyait vraiment pas donner le biberon à sa poupée et regardait Muriel avec un regard défiant en haussant ses épaules. Mais évidemment il savait déjà qu’il ne pourrait pas y échapper. Muriel le regardait et sur un ton sévère lui rappelait la règle que s’il ne nourrissait pas sa poupée il ne mangerait pas non plus. De nouveau il se résignait et montait chercher sa protégée, et puis voulait s’installer sur sa chaise pour la nourrir, mais Muriel l’interrompait : « Viens ici, que je te montre comment que tu dois préparer le biberon. » Elle le montrait comment il devait mettre la bonne quantité d’eau, y ajouter des mesures de farine de blé, tout bien secouer, mettre à chauffer au bain marie, essayer si c’était la bonne température sur le dos de sa main et puis s’installer avec sa poupée sus ces genoux et faire semblant de la nourrir. Il trouvait toute la cérémonie idiote mais, sachant que c’était la seul façon d’éviter à être punit, il faisait comme demandé.

Les jours suivants étaient très difficiles. Prendre soin de son bébé prenait énormément de temps, et souvent il essayait de prendre des raccourcis. Par exemple quand il devait nourrir sa poupée d’une purée de légumes il prétendait après quelques secondes qu’elle avait vidée son assiette. Muriel n’était pas dupe. La première fois elle faisait semblant d’accepter l’explication mais quand Alex se mettait à manger à son tour elle enlevait son assiette après deux bouchées, expliquant qu’il avait mangé autant que sa protégée. Le jour suivant elle avait prévu, et donnant une deuxième assiette, elle exigeait que chaque cuillerée doive être apportée devant la bouche de la poupée, puis vidée dans la deuxième assiette, jusqu’à ce que la première assiette soit vide. Vider les cuillerées n’était pas aisée puisque la purée collait. Pour gagner du temps Alex vidait la cuillère dans sa propre bouche quand il croyait que personne ne regardait. Mais évidemment il était découvert, et Muriel le taquinait : « Alors t’aimes la purée de légumes ? Si tu veux je peux t’en préparer pour ton diner dorénavant? »

Souvent il se trouvait punit, seul dans sa chambre. Les deux petites aussi n’y arrivaient pas facilement. Chez elles ce n’était pas de la mauvaise volonté mais distraction et manque de discipline. Muriel comprenait que seulement avec des punitions elle n’arriverait pas à ce que toutes les 3 prendraient complètement leur responsabilité envers leurs bébés respectifs. Réalisant qu’il fallait des encouragements, elle commençait à donner des cadeaux. D’abord des choses qui rendaient la vie des « mamans » plus faciles comme une chaise haute ou un sac porteur. Très apprécié était un harnais de bébé puisque cela permettait les gosses d’aller jouer en laissant leurs bébés en sécurité. Evidemment s’ils abandonnaient leur poupée trop long temps ils étaient punit.
Après les choses utilitaires pour le confort des mamans suivaient des nouveaux habits : des petites barboteuses, grenouillères, robes et jupes. Muriel constatait avec satisfaction comment les 3 gosses se prenaient au jeu, et comment une sorte de compétition s’installait entre elles pour qui avait le bébé le mieux habillé et soigné.

Surtout Alex devenait une maman complètement dévoué à son petit bébé. Muriel était d’abord un peu surprise mais puis elle comprenait la psychologie de son attitude. Pendant des mois elle avait enlevé toute confidence chez le pauvre garçon, à tel point qu’il était arrivé à croire qu’il n’était capable de rien, même pas de prendre soin de soi même. Le fait que maintenant il recevait tout le temps des compléments pour la façon qu’il soignait sa poupée, et surtout le fait qu’il gagnait le concours implicite avec les deux autres, le rendait vraiment heureux.

Muriel, observant le fils de 12 ans de son ex-mari, portant ses jolies petites robes et bracelets, jouant gaiement avec sa poupée, réalisait qu’elle avait mieux réussit que ce qu’elle avait pu espérer. Alex ne serait jamais le macho misogyne que son père en aurait surement fait. Le garçon se sentait clairement bien dans sa peau, c’était comme s’il était né pour une deuxième fois, mais cette fois-ci comme petite fille modèle, et que ça lui allait mieux que la première fois.

Un jour en sortant du magasin de jouets, ou les trois « mamans » avaient pu choisir des nouveaux habits, pour leurs petites protégées – qui étaient restées à la maison sous la garde des grandes sœurs – ils rencontraient Marco et sa maman. Bien que Marco ne fût plus jamais revenu chez eux Alex et lui continuaient à se voir au volley-ball et étaient toujours amis. Alex avait fort apprécié que le garçon n’ait jamais dénoncé aux autres enfants qu’à la maison il portait des jupes et des bavoirs.

Pendant qu’Alex et les deux petites montraient les habits de poupées qu’ils venaient d’acheter, les mères se parlaient entre elles. Marco ne s’étonnait pas trop que son copain jouait aux poupées, et, bien qu’amusé, ne se moquait pas de lui.
Entre temps Muriel apprenait que Marco ne se portait pas bien. Le garçon, de plus en plus timide, était taquiné sans cesse à l’école. Il avait changé d’école mais la même chose s’y était reproduite. Par réaction il devenait agressif, négligeant et insupportable. Sa mère était au désespoir. Muriel regardait le garçon d’un air pensif et observait qu’elle avait probablement un moyen pour rompre le cercle vicieux, mais pour ça le garçon devrait revenir en visite de temps en temps. La mère regardait Muriel un moment et d’un air préoccupé elle répondait qu’elle serait prête à tout mais que son fils n’accepterait jamais de porter des vêtements de fille et ne voudrait plus porter de tablier non plus. Muriel, en souriant, acceptait la condition, tout en expliquant que c’était bien dommage puisque quand les garçons étaient habillés en filles ils devenaient déjà tout de suite moins agressifs.

Quelques jours plus tard Marco arrivait et dès son arrivée était présenté à sa poupée, avec l’explication qu’il devait s’en occuper comme si c’était un bébé. Le garçon, d’abord surpris, mais voyant comment son grand copain, portant sa poupée sur le ventre, s’en occupait tout naturellement, hésitait un moment mais puis acceptait sans protester. Et Muriel était stupéfaite de voir comment il rentrait tout de suite dans le jeu.

Pendant toute la journée il s’occupait de sa poupée comme si c’était sa petite soeur et ce plaisait au jeu. Quand le soir il acceptait sans hésitation l’offre de Muriel d’emmener sa poupée chez lui sa mère n’en revenait pas. Le fait de s’occuper de son bébé ne changeait évidemment en rien les taquineries dont il était l’objet, mais le garçon changeait complêtement d’attitude. En même temps que de sa poupée il prenait soin de soi-même, s’occupait de ces devoirs, et réagissait calmement même dans des situations exaspérant (A long terme cette attitude lui vaudrait probablement le respect des autres, mais ça dépasse la période de cette histoire).

Muriel observait quelque chose de semblable chez Alex. Après avoir été convertit en petite fille dépendante des autres, le fait de s’occuper de sa poupée avait mis en marche un changement plus profonde que Muriel n’avait prévu. Alexia començait à faire des progrès en classe, rattrapant Emily, à table elle faisait attention à ne pas salir son bavoir, et la plus part des nuits sa couche restait sèche. Muriel d’abord ne savait pas si elle aimait cette evolution. Cruellement elle avait prévu d’en faire un bébé permanent , – ce que dans ces yeux étaient tous les hommes de toute façon,- une créature irresponsable, dépendant de son entourage pour toujours, un peu ridicule mais mignon.

Mais elle devait admirer comment le garçon avait acepté son sort, et puis avait pris sa chance de se réinventer en une fille parfaite. Il méritait peut-être d’aller au bout de cette logique. Elle hésitait pendant quelques semaines en observant avec une tendresse grandissante sa Pygmalion, et finalement décidait qu’elle irait au bout des choses

Chapitre suivant: https://clairodon.wordpress.com/2013/12/24/la-revanche-6-3/

Redemption 7

“I just loved to take care of him, to cuddle him, to protect him. And, despite his initial resistance, Bobby loved to be diapered by me. Just lying on his back with his legs open his member would grow in anticipation of me softly applying baby powder and folding the diapers tightly around his legs.”
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You will find the preceding chapters of this story in “topics” under “Redemption”, with the different chapters in reversed order. To find the first chapter you just have to scroll down to the bottom.

Or you can go to the “index page” where you will find a link to the first chapter of Redemption (and then at the end of each chapter a link to the following)

Chapter 7
After I broke up with Jenny I moved to the west coast where I found a job in a market survey company. I started as a data entering clerk but soon became a research assistant. I then went to college in the evenings and week-ends. It was hard to combine work and studies while living on my own, but I got my degree without any problem. At work my boss encouraged me to enlist for a master course in market intelligence. But it would be impossible to combine that with a full time job. When I told him I couldn’t afford to do a full time master study he offered me a loan. He would pay me for the two years of my studies, and then rehire me as a consultant, which would make it possible for me to pay him back. Although I realized that I wouldn’t be free for many years I accepted his offer.

At uni I kept mostly to myself. Being 25 years old I was only slightly older than most of my school mates but I really felt much older, which made it hard to make friends. But then I met sweet Bobby. He was a waiter in the coffee shop where I liked to go to read. Although he was much younger, – he had just turned 19 – we connected.

The fact that he was gay helped probably, because I had grown very wary of all people who might get sexually attracted to me. However, I have often wondered if he didn’t start chatting with me because he was attracted by my androgynous looks. I still had almost no breasts, wore my dark hair very short, and since I had become a full time student, dressed always in black, tight fitting, jeans and vests.

We soon grew very close and spend a lot of time together.

He told me had always felt different from the other boys. His parents had worried about that and he had been faced with a lot of hostility in his environment from a very early age, which caused him to be rather insecure and guilt stricken. No wonder we became soul mates. And I told him, little piece by little piece, about my childhood, being diapered by my mother, and all the things that happened afterwards. Even telling it only in very broad strokes caused me to shed a lot of tears. And Bobby, despite his own insecurities and being so much younger, was extremely supportive and kind. From my side I was proud to have someone confide in me. He would tell me when he fell in love with some good looking fellow and I would encourage him. Most of the time he was turned down, often having to bare insults in the process, and he would then come to me and looking for comfort which I was glad to give

One day after we had had dinner at my place, and had emptied two bottles of wine, I invited him to stay for the night. That first time he slept on the coach. But then he began to sleep over regularly and, as the coach was extremely uncomfortably, I proposed to share my bed.

Of course I had told him I wore diapers to bed and wetted them almost daily, but the first time I felt very awkward about wearing diapers with him next to me. And once again, he helped me overcome my insecurity asking me in his simple straightforward manner, why I didn’t put on my diapers. I blushed but did go to the bathroom and put on diapers. I normally only wear pajama’s on very cold winter days but at first when Bobby slept next to me I wore pajama pants to cover my diapers. It must have been the third or 4th time when in the middle of the night I woke up feeling to warm and decided to take off my pants. In the morning I had completely forgotten about it and coming out of bed I was standing in front of my friend wearing nothing but diapers underneath a T-shirt. When I realized what happened I blushed and pulled the bedcover over me, but Bobby smiled and in his kind voice told me I looked lovely.

The next time it was an even hotter day and Bobby asked me gently if I planned to put on my pajamas again. I hesitated but couldn’t decide not to. But this time Bobby insisted, telling me I couldn’t just go on being ashamed for the rest of my life for having a bladder problem, and that anyway it looked cute. Having a sudden inspiration I threw a diaper in his direction and told him mockingly that if he liked it so much he should wear one too. For a fraction of a second he hesitated but then smiled once more:”Ok, I will!”, and taking off his boxers, unfolded the diapers in front of me. When he had opened the diapers on the bed and sat on it, trying awkwardly to fasten them around his legs, I was suddenly overwhelmed with love. I walked over, kissed him on his forehead, and pushed him on his back: “Let me help you!”

Him doing this for me made me love him very much, and having him lay on his back with his legs open, waiting for me to help him, made him look very vulnerable. I bent over and kissed him passionately, and one thing leading to the other, we made love.

The couple of years before that I had had a number of dates and some of those had pleasantly ended in my bed or that of my date. But there had never been any passion. Now with Bobby I was surprised to discover I felt so passionate, as much as I had had with Lewis. But the passion was clearly not reciprocal and the love making resulted kind of disappointing. Bobby knew it and apologized, explaining with a wry laugh that he was used to be on the receiving side. I shrugged and said it didn’t matter, that the next time would be better. But it wasn’t.

Becoming lovers changed our relationship completely. I loved Bobby passionately but Bobby, although I know he loved me very much, never really desired me. And I just could not accept that. Unconsciously I began taking revenge on him, little by little.

The first thing was that I insisted he wore diapers every time he slept over, which he accepted light heartedly. But in the morning coming out of bed I resented that his diapers, contrary to mine, were not wet. So I told him, laughingly, that we were not going to throw away a non-used diaper and that he would have to keep it on until he peed in it. The first time he had been surprised but again he had shrugged and, laughing, he had opened his legs and wetted his diapers while I watched. This again made my heart overflow with love and taking him by the hand I led him to the bathroom where I washed him.

From then on it became standard for him to keep his diapers on for breakfast and then wet them so that I could help him take them off and wash him. Of course I would scold him for being a little baby.

And of course that didn’t change the unsatisfactory sex. As he used as excuse that he preferred to be on the receiving side I bought myself a strap-on dildo. When I put the thing on and made Bobby bare his bottom and bend forward a sudden exhilarating feeling of power got in to me. For the first time ever I was in charge of a relationship, I was the dominant partner. I’m still very ashamed of what happened from then on, but I couldn’t stop anymore and abused my power over poor little Bobby ever more.

Today I realize that Bobby, insecure Bobby, forever looking for parental approval, had become very dependent on my caring, loving and supporting him. If I had realized it at the time maybe I would have acted differently but as it was I just loved to have someone depend so much on me.

I soon had him diapered and babied 24/7, much as my mother used to do to me, or as Alistair did. I still don’t understand I didn’t realize what I was doing.

On a typical school-day the alarm would go off and we would both wake up – of course he had moved in full time with me because not only was that a cost saving, but little kids can’t live on their own can they? – and I went to the bathroom to quickly take off my diapers. While he waited in bed I prepared a mug of milk for him – cold in summer, hot in winter – which he drank while I washed and dressed. Next I prepared the breakfast table and told him to get out of bed and join me so that I could spoon-feed him his cereals. When we both finished our breakfasts I took him to the bathroom where I took off his wet diapers and told him to relieve his bowels on the toilet while I did my make-up. Next I washed him and helped him dress.

To go to school I had him wear baggy, low hanging, jeans under long T-shirts. Although his diapers showed above the waistband of his trousers the shirt safely covered everything up.

It was surprising how easy it was to make him do all this! Looking back I realize I used a cunning combination of charm, playfulness and …. pure blackmail.

Bringing him milk in bed in the morning was of course a kind gesture as he always had a hard time coming out of bed and really loved to drink milk. But when one day he spilled milk on the bed I scolded him like a little kid, and the next day, serving his milk in a cup with a beak, I repeated the reproaches of the previous day, accusing him of being sloppy and careless. But then, adding with a playful smile that “baby cups come with baby bibs” I bent over and put a bib around his neck.

When he wanted to be kind and insisted on helping with the household I told him it was not necessary, that he just had to relax and let me take care of him, because “it was the first time in my life that I could take care of someone”. I insisted, but from time to time I couldn’t prevent him to do something. When he did I always found fault with what he had done, or how he had done it, scolding him for being clumsy, and repeating in an annoyed voice that I preferred to do it myself. Having undermined his confidence this way he soon stopped proposing to do anything on his own and let me help him with almost everything.

Getting him to wear diapers to school however was more difficult. At first he refused categorically but I didn’t relent, appealing to his sense of guilt: “I like you to be my little baby, and you refuse to give me that pleasure?” When that didn’t work I tried to force him by a combination of hygienic reasons and guilt: “Besides, you always leave yellow stains in your boxers. It’s not very clean and it’s no fun for me having to wash them.” He still refused but I saw his resolve was disintegrating so I went for a little blackmail “Well if you don’t love me enough to do that for me we can as well break up” That did it. He cried hot tears and accepted to wear diapers to school and to his job.

After breakfast we drove together to school except on the – frequent – days that I had no classes. Those days I drove him to the bus stop as he didn’t have a driver’s license. The bus stop was only 1 or 2 miles from my place but, as any over protective mother, I preferred to drive him and wait with him for the bus to arrive.

In the afternoon we always met at the coffee shop where he worked after classes until he was ready and we could go home together. I went to meet him there even on the days I had no classes. Once at home I helped him out of his diapers and dressed him in function of the plans for the rest of the day.

If the weather was good we often went to the beach which was only a 15 minute drive away. I discarded all his ugly, long, surfer pants and replaced them with cute speedos. They had cartoon figures on them and as I had bought them in a children’s shop they were very small. It looked very cute and sexy at the same time. I loved to see him wear a t-shirt that completely covered his tiny briefs, almost as if he was wearing a little dress. With his slender build he looked very feminine and that of course gave me other ideas.

I had noticed on several occasions that he lingered in front of my wardrobe. I never wore a dress or a skirt anymore, always wearing tight fitting black pants, and very exceptionally, on very hot days, or to go to the beach, I would dress in shorts. But I still had a couple of summer dresses hanging in my closet, and I was sure that when Bobby lingered in front of my open wardrobe he was looking at the dresses. So one day finding him standing in front of the closet I asked him if he wanted to try one on.

He turned around, looking surprised, but blushing slightly, asked: “Try what on?” “One of my dresses, silly.” He seemed flabbergasted and began to stammer: “No, no, not at all, of course not! But, eum, I think, eum, I would like you to wear them. I wonder why, eum you have them so why not, eum I think you would look wonderful in them.” For a moment I hesitated, but then decided I was not going to let me change my mind: “Oh no baby, no more dresses for me’” And then standing next to him I took out a short flower-print summer dress, and held it before him smiling: “Let’s play dress up darling! Come on, let’s have some fun!” Of course he accepted and once he had pulled on the dress I taught him to apply make-up and he spent the rest of the day as my cute little doll. And from one came two, and soon he liked to dress as a little doll.

Having him walk around in dresses or with a short skirt of course was a permanent invitation for me to get my dildo and take him from behind. “Being on the receiving side” didn’t do anything for his passion but I hardly noticed it anymore. He was there to be taken whenever I fancied, never mind what he wanted.

In the week-end we would often assist at cultural events like concerts or exhibitions, or go on long biking trips. I always made him wear very small, tight fitting shorts, putting in evidence his tight little bum and nice tanned legs. On one of those occasions, visiting a photo exposition of male nudes, I noticed how the bump in his shorts grew, making them almost burst open. I was amused but annoyed and jealous at the same time. Getting him into that awkward situation became a little game that amused me a lot and he certainly enjoyed it too despite being very embarrassed whenever he thought somewhat had noticed his boner. I never told him it made me feel jealous.

But telling all this I think I make it sound much worse than it actually was. We did love each other very much and there was a tremendous amount of tenderness in our relationship. I think we both wanted it to last forever.

I just loved to take care of him, to cuddle him, to protect him. And, despite his initial resistance, Bobby loved to be diapered by me. Just lying on his back with his legs open his member would grow in anticipation of me softly applying baby powder and folding the diapers tightly around his legs. And, although he would never have admitted it and always pretended he did it to please me, I knew he adored the dress up games in which I changed him into my cute little obedient doll. We loved to go shopping for new dresses and skirts. He would get all excited going together with me in the changing room where he would be the one trying on the girlie clothes.

But I also knew something was missing for both of us. Not wanting to admit that this was the way it was I decided it would be nice for little Bobby to have a baby brother or sister. Foolishly thinking that that would compensate the missing part of our relationship I stopped taking anticontraceptives and soon got pregnant. I didn’t tell anything to my lover-boy but when I was in my third month one day Bobby walked into the bathroom while I was washing and he started laughing: “It seems you are finally putting on some weight! You are even developing a little belly!” I thought this was so sweet!

I wondered when I would tell him he was going to have a little baby sister, and how he was going to take it. I was afraid he might become jealous but decided that was probably not the case as he was such a sweet little darling. Once he would have seen his little baby he would love it.

But it never came to that. One day I stupidly stumbled from a stool on which I had been standing to clean the window and I lost the baby. When Bobby came to the hospital and learned what had happened he was very supportive, but he was also furious that I had planned to have his child without even consulting him. A few weeks later we broke up.

Another relationship I had failed. I felt guiltier than ever and ended my master degree in pure misery, convinced I was an irreparable failure at relationships.

Next chapter: https://clairodon.wordpress.com/2014/10/16/redemption-8/

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.”

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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  –

A dream come true 9

“At that moment I had a very heavy cramp, and not able to withhold any longer I let go, filling up my diapers in front of my wife and daughter. They were at first horrified, but seeing the laughing face of Isabel, they understood and burst out laughing too. I couldn’t stop the bowel movement and kept on filling my diapers in front of them. I felt horribly ashamed but again the feeling of the warm mass spreading around in my diapers made me feel good”

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

 Chapter 9

 The following days and weeks Carol came back several time to our age-playing, asking a steady stream of questions: if I had done that before, if I played other roles, why I liked to do it, … . She seemed to have enjoyed it a lot, and despite that for years I hadn’t been very manly, and been submissive to Laura, my daughter still seemed surprised to discover my sissy side, and loved it. Anthony on the other hand, who of course had received an extensive account of what had happened, lost the last remaining bit of respect for his father. And Laura didn’t seem to care a lot, and seemed relieved the last secret was out in the open now. However when Carol proposed to play again Laura opposed it.

One or two months later Isabel called and had my daughter on the line. Isabel said that Lucy’s second birthday was coming up and asked if “Carol and her little sister would care to come over to party with them?”  For a split second Carol didn’t understand but then, delighted, she irrupted in laughter: “Sure, she would love too, but I doubt mommy will let us.”

Isabel immediately had asked to speak to Laura, and she soon had persuaded my wife that the 3 of us would join her and little Lucy for a small birthday party a day when Tom and the boys weren’t home. Nobody asked my opinion of course.

The day of the party Carol was all excited. She went through her wardrobe looking for the appropriate attire, which took quite some time, but when she finally came down she was clearly pleased with the effect. She wore a girlie T-shirt under a very short red jumper dress and striped tights. She hadn’t dressed so colorful for years. She evidently wanted to look childish, which surprised Laura and myself, but she looked charming and Laura complimented her on her cute look.

Smiling broadly Carol turned to me: “”Your turn! I have prepared your clothes on your bed”.  I hadn’t expected that at all, and gave her a worried look, but without seeming to notice that, she took me by the hand and pulled me up the stairs. When I saw what she had prepared my first reaction was to refuse to wear such attire in public, but seeing my daughter’s happy twinkling eyes I gave in.

Soon I was dressed in a short Disney princess T-shirt over a very short, lilac and violet tiered, skirt, with an elastic waist, and dark blue tights with little stars. The T-shirt was too short so that my belly was bare. I am rather slim, but nevertheless around my waist I have some beginning bulges who were now hanging over the waistband of the skirt. Carol was delighted, but couldn’t stop laughing, which wasn’t very comforting of course.

Laura too was amused when she saw me. She loves to have me at her mercy and to humiliate me in private and in public, but watching me playing a little baby, and enjoying it, is definitely not her thing. Nevertheless she seemed to like me see dressed like that by our daughter.

When we arrived at Isabel’s place she was as surprised and delighted as Laura had been. Especially Carol being dressed in such a childish fashion surprised her, as she had expected the girl to come as babysitter. But after a second hesitation she immediately took control again. She made Carol turn around complimenting how pretty she was. And then, plopping a pacifier in the surprised but delighted girl’s mouth, she turned to Laura: “Could you keep an eye on those two sweet darlings while I take care of the little baby?”, and with that she took me by the hand and led me upstairs.

Once upstairs she made me undress and lie down on the bed where she proceeded at diapering me. Having been dressed in a short skirt by my own daughter had been heaven, but of course being diapered was much better. Isabel had prepared for this visit and had some very thick diapers and plastic pants ready. Once safely diapered she dressed me in a romper closing with snaps between the legs. But then came the finishing touch: a dog collar and leather wrist cuffs that she attached to the collar.  Never before I had been made so completely dependent on my “mommy, and following her downstairs, the heavy padding making me walk like a duck,  I felt awkward  appearing in front of my wife and daughter like that.  Strangely it was not so much the diapers and rompers – both of them had seen me in such attire before – but it was having my hands attached to my collar that made it so awkward.

And indeed entering the room both Laura and Carol gave me a strange look. Laura smiled maliciously at Isabel, already enjoying seeing me in a dependent position.  Carol, who was holding a large baby doll, however jumped to her feet and looked at me in an alarmed way. Isabel immediately sensed the danger. She turned to me and gave me a sweet kiss on the cheek: “We don’t want little Mickey to hurt himself do we?” I returned her smile and everything fell in place again.

The two girls were told to sit at a small able and were given a bib and Isabel took out the birthday cake with two candles. When Lucy, with the help from Carol, had blown out the candles, they proceeded to eat the cake with their hands. I too was given a bib but Isabel trusted a baby bottle with milk in my hands which I was told to drink. Isabel commented on the situation explaining that while little Lucy was becoming a big girl I seemed to be regressing into an ever smaller baby. Perfectly happy I didn’t respond.

I was still sucking on my bottle when the two girls had finished the cake, and Isabel asked her toddler if she didn’t have to go potty. Once the little girl installed on her throne Isabel looked to Carol and asked her the same question. My daughter turned all red but nodded enthusiastically yes. A few moments later both girls were sitting on their respective pots and peeing with the encouragement of both Isabel and Laura , who seemed to enjoy seeing her 14 year old daughter in the role of a happy toddler.

When both had finished Isabel swiped them clean and had both of them put on training pants. At that moment I began to feel something going on in my bowels. At first, enjoying the pleasure of watching my daughter playing a little toddler, I ignored it but as the movement became worse I suddenly realized that Isabel must have put a laxative in my bottle. I tried to hold out but soon knew that was going to be impossible. Panicking I went over to the 4 girls and timidly asked if someone could help me to the toilet.

Laura gave me a furious look. She must have thought I was jealous of the two girls and tried to get attention. And Carol, probably thinking the same, looked at me in a compassionate but sad way. Only Isabel smiled broadly: “Oh, you want to be a big girl like your sister? That’s a good baby, but you know you are still too small to use the potty.”  And tapping me on the bottom she added: “But that’s why you are wearing such thick diapers aren’t you?”

At that moment I had a very heavy cramp, and not able to withhold any longer I let go, filling up my diapers in front of my wife and daughter. They were at first horrified, but seeing the laughing face of Isabel, they understood and burst out laughing too. I couldn’t stop the bowel movement and kept on filling my diapers in front of them.

I felt horribly ashamed but again the feeling of the warm mass spreading around in my diapers made me feel good. Isabel, knowing from the previous time she had me poop in my diapers that I liked it, came over and kissed me on the front: “That’s a good baby, having done a big poo poo!”  Looking at my daughter and little Lucy who just had been complimented for using the potty, I felt really very small.

Laura, complaining that it began to smell, suggested I go and change myself but Isabel interrupted her telling we should wait a little longer as there might be more to come. She handed me a rag doll and told me to sit on the floor. Sitting down, I liked the feeling of the shit spreading even more.

The attention shifted to the two girls again and Laura and Isabel began playing with them. With my hands kept close to my face there was no much I could do than to put the doll in my mouth and suck on it, while watching the others play. Isabel had been right and after a while my bowels began moving again and I filled my diapers more.

Isabel made me sit between her legs and rubbed softly on my diapers, giving me kisses in my neck. This of course was heaven and, to the horror of Laura, I began making soft noises until I came with a big sigh. At that moment Isabel took me by the hand and asking Laura to stay with the girls told her she was going to change me. Laura, flabbergasted by that suggestion, asked her why she didn’t let me wash up myself. This time it was Isabel to look surprised: “Come on Laura, it’s just a little baby, he can’t do that by himself”. Giving my wife a happy, triumphant smile I followed Isa upstairs.

I had done a very heavy load, and had been sitting on it for over an hour. Cleaning up was not going to be easy. Isabel knew this and had me stand in the bath while she took off the plastic pants and diapers, and then washed me completely while I had to hold my hands on my head. This time it didn’t feel awkward anymore.

Once clean she put on knew diapers but dressed me in the girlie clothes I had worn to come. The skirt didn’t completely cover my heavily padded bottom.  By that time it was time to leave as Tom and the boys were expected to come home any moment.

Isabel explained to Laura that she had put me in diapers again as it could be that my bowels were still not completely empty. And sure enough, driving home I couldn’t help pooping some more. Laura, giving me furious looks through the rear view mirror, complained loudly that I was disgusting, that the whole car was stinking. Carol, who was sitting next to me in the back, gave me encouraging smiles and bending over whispered in my ear: “Poor baby, don’t worry we are almost home!”

That day my status in the family took another turn downwards.

Although she had thoroughly enjoyed her own role playing, the fact that I had been willing to poop in my diapers in front of her changed the relationship with Carol completely. She remained always very kind and supportive, but I stopped being her father. She became patronizing, treating me as if I needed protection, advising me on what to wear, or telling me what to do or not to do.  I let her do, because I enjoyed being protected by my 14 year old daughter.

Laura had been flabbergasted by how Isabel turned me into a real little baby and I think she was kind of jealous by the intimacy between her friend and me. Her reaction however was not to seek the same thing but on the contrary, having seen I would accept anything, she looked for new ways to  humiliate me, such as having me wear diapers underneath nothing but a short apron in front of the kids

 As for Antony he was confirmed that his father was a pathetic sissy, whom he ignored as much as possible.

 For the next chapter go to :  https://clairodon.wordpress.com/2012/12/07/a-dream-come-true-10/

La revanche 2

« Descendant l’escalier Alex était conscient de la couche lourde qui pendait entre ces jambes et il remontait son short. Il n’avait pas vu qu’Emilie le suivait et avait vu son geste. Imitant sa mère elle mettait sa main en dessous de sa chemise et pesait le poids de sa couche : « Pff, ta couche est vraiment trempée ! T’es quand même un vrai bébé. ». Il n’avait rien à répondre et entrait à la cuisine prenant soin de bien tirer sa chemise de nuit vers le bas. Tous les autres étaient déjà là, et il avait l’impression qu’elles regardaient tous son bas ventre. En s’asseyant il tenait sa chemise par le bord en couvrant bien son short, mais il voyait qu’Emilie chuchotait quelque chose à l’oreille de Juliette. Celle-ci le regardait avec un air étonné mais puis, lui donnant son sourire sournois, elle venait vers lui et comme le jour précédant procédait à lui mettre son bavoir : « Voilà le petit bébé pisseux préparé pour son petit déjeuner ». »

Vous trouverez les chapitres précédents  dans la “topic”  « Revanche » en ordre renversée, le premier chapitre se trouvant tout à fait en bas.

Chap 2

Tout confus Alex s’installait à côté d’Emilie pendant que Mlle Irène ordonnait à toute la classe de continuer les exercices du jour précédent. A Alex elle disait de faire les mêmes exercices qu’Emilie.

Alex était étonné du niveau des exercices dont Emilie s’occupait. Elle avait trois ans de moins que lui mais était à un niveau de mat tout à fait similaire. Plus tard il se rendrait compte que ce n’était pas seulement le cas en mat, et que toutes les trois les filles avaient une avance considérable comparé aux enfants de leurs âges respectives. Les jumeaux de 5 ans lisaient des livres, faisaient des calculs, et apprenaient les tables de multiplication. Et Juliette, il ne savait pas vraiment ce qu’elle étudiait puisqu’en général elle travaillait sur son ordinateur sans que Mlle Irène, ni sa mère, ne s’en occupaient beaucoup.

Mais retournons à ce premier jour. Il s’attaquait plein de courage aux exercices et était content de constater qu’il avançait bien. Mais quand il jetait un œil sur le papier d’Emily il voyait qu’elle avançait encore plus vite que lui. Cela le frustrait et il essayait de la rattraper. Quand Mlle Irène venait voir comment il se débrouillait elle l’arrêtait immédiatement, montrant des erreurs dans ces derniers exercices. Alex réalisait qu’en voulant se dépêcher il avait fait des bêtises. Quand il s’excusait et, voulant se défendre, il expliquait qu’il reconnaissait ces erreurs, et qu’il allait faire plus attention. Irène l’interrompait. Se tournant vers Emilie, elle demandait si Emilie pouvait expliquer les bonnes solutions.  Alex insistait que ce n’était pas nécessaire mais cela lui valait un discours sur la stupidité de la vanité masculine.

Donc il s’inclinait, et devait vite reconnaitre qu’Emilie l’expliquait bien. Pendant ce temps-là Mlle. Irène expliquait des nouveaux exercices aux jumeaux.

Deux heures après le début de la classe il y avait une récréation. Alex se trouvait avec les 3 files dans la salle de jeux ou Muriel les servait un verre de lait. Il s’étonnait que Juliette ne se joignait pas à eux, et voulant relever le fait que lui aussi était plus âgée que les 3 autres, il allait la rejoindre dans la classe, ou il la trouvait toujours occupé avec son ordinateur. Quand elle l’entendait arriver elle levait à peine ces yeux. Légèrement intimidé Alex prenait son courage en mains et demandait ce qu’elle faisait. Cette fois-ci elle le regardait, mais avec un regard plein de dédain : « Rien qu’un petit garçon comme toi pourrait comprendre. ». Elle se repenchait sur son ordinateur laissait le garçon sans parole. Il hésitait une seconde mais puis retournait chez les autres avec une figure  écarlate de gêne.

Quand ils reprenaient le travail Mlle Irène se mettait à leur table et donnait une petite leçon de grammaire, qu’après ils devaient appliquer dans des exercices, pendant qu’elle rejoignait les jumeaux de nouveau. Après une demi-heure elle congédiait les petites en leur disant qu’elles pouvaient aller jouer puisqu’elles avaient bien travaillées. Puis, revenant chez Emilie et Alex pour corriger leurs devoirs, elle les félicitait, puis les demandait de commencer une nouvelle série d’exercices plus compliqués. Alex, commençant à en avoir assez, soupirait. Irène le regardait, d’abord un peu étonné, mais puis sans hésitation elle le congédiait à son tour : « Bien sûre, c’est dure pour un garçon de ton âge de devoir se concentrer toute une matinée ! Mais t’as déjà bien travaillé, donc va vite rejoindre Laure et Sophie ! » Alex, étonné de cette réaction,  hésitait une seconde d’entamer quand même la nouvelle série d’exercices,  mais il  n’avait vraiment plus le courage. Il se levait et quittait la pièce. Rejoignant les deux petites de 5 ans il se sentait un peu honteux mais les fillettes étaient contentes de le voir arriver à la terrasse. Elles voulaient sauter à la corde et il leur manquait une troisième personne pour faire tourner la corde. Alex, content de se rendre utile, acceptait tout de suite, et évidement bientôt c’était son tour pour sauter. Il était surpris de voir comment il tenait automatiquement le tablier de chaque côté pour éviter qu’il montait à chaque saut. Il pensait que c’était idiot puisqu’en dessous il portait un short, et il voulait lâcher mais n’y arrivait pas. Il ne savait pas que Muriel était sortie à la terrasse et l’observait depuis quelques minutes jusqu’au moment qu’elle l’interpellait : « Je vois que tu t’adaptes bien. Je suis vraiment contente de toi. » Il ne savait pas comment réagir et, s’arrêtant de sauter, il se tournait vers elle et souriait timidement. Mais à ce moment Irène les appelait : « Laure, Sophie, Alexia, il est temps de reprendre le travail ! » S’entendre appeler Alexia l’enrageait, et furieux, il se tournait vers l’institutrice, prête à faire une remarque désinvolte. Heureusement que Muriel présentait sa réaction et le donnait un clin d’œil. Cette forme de complicité venant de cette femme sévère qui jusqu’à ce moment c’était limité à donner des ordres et instructions, le désorientait. Voyant que sa remarque avait l’effet voulu, Muriel se tournait vers l’institutrice : « Et en classe ça se passe bien ? »

Irène, toujours respectueuse envers son employeur, donnait un gentil sourire à son nouvel élève: «Oh oui, tout se passe très bien. Elle va vite nous faire oublier son sexe. » Muriel éclatait de rire et donnait de nouveau un clin d’œil au pauvre garçon.

Pendant l’heure suivante Irène mettait les 3 filles au travail pendant qu’elle s’occupait exclusivement d’Alex, lui montrant plein de livres d’histoire, de géographie, de langues, de sciences, afin de se faire une idée plus précise sur ce qu’il avait déjà appris. Sa conclusion qu’en général il était à un niveau de connaissances fort proche de celui d’Emilie ne l’étonnait plus. Et cela avait l’air de bien arranger Irène puisqu’ainsi elle pouvait les enseigner simultanément.

L’heure du déjeuner était arrivée et toute la bande se précipitait à la cuisine ou Muriel les attendait pour servir à manger. Alex voyait tout de suite que dans l’anneau de serviette à côté de son assiette se trouvait de nouveau la bavette. Pendant que Muriel mettait les bavettes aux jumeaux, Juliette se tournait vers lui. C’était une des premières fois qu’elle daignait remarquer sa présence. Elle sortait calmement le bavoir de l’anneau, le déroulait, et s’approchait de lui : « Viens, je vais nouer ta bavette ».  Il savait que protester n’avait pas de sens, mais c’était plus fort que lui. « Ce n’est pas nécessaire, je porte déjà un tablier. » Muriel réagissait immédiatement : « Les tabliers ne sont lavés qu’une fois par semaine. Tu ne veux quand même pas te promener avec un tablier sale pendant toute une semaine ? » Il se donnait vaincu et, se sentant tout petit, il laissait nouer le bavoir autour du cou par sa demi-sœur.

Mais le pire devait encore venir. Muriel servait la soupe mais pour lui et pour les jumeaux elle ne la servait pas dans une assiette mais dans un gobelet, et quand il voulait prendre la cuillère pour manger Muriel lui disait de boire. La soupe était assez épaisse et évidemment il n’y avait pas moyen d’éviter de couvrir la moitié de sa figure du liquide vert. Quand il avait vidé le gobelet il essuyait automatiquement sa bouche avec son bavoir, ce qui causait la remarque de Muriel qu’il comprenait maintenant pourquoi elle le faisait porter une bavette.

Mais le repas-torture n’était toujours pas terminé. Le plat principal consistait de pommes de terre, compote de pommes et saucisses. Puisqu’il n’avait de nouveau pas reçu un couteau il voulait couper la saucisse avec sa cuillère, mais Muriel l’interrompait sur un ton sévère et demandait à Emilie de couper son repas en petits bouts. Il ne protestait plus.

Après le repas ils se remettaient tous en classe pour « une heure de calme pour bien digérer ». Muriel mettait un CD de musique classique et les filles sortaient leurs paniers à coudre. Juliette se mettait à travailler à une robe dont elle avait dessiné le modèle elle-même, Emilie sortait de son panier un pull à moitié tricoté, pendant que les deux petites brodaient des dessins sur leurs tabliers. Muriel se mettait à côté d’Alex et le demandait s’il avait déjà fait des jeux de broderie. Alex, résilié, savant qu’il n’y échapperait pas, secouait doucement la tête. Muriel lui montrait comment mettre un fil dans une aiguille et puis le donnait un jeu de broderie Hello Kitty. Alex se mettait au travail et très vite était  absorbé par le jeu, à tel point qu’il ne sentait pas que Muriel s’était approché jusqu’au moment qu’elle le complémentait : « Mais c’est parfait ! T’as l’air d’avoir du talent pour la couture ! »  Il rougissait et, bien qu’il  ne l’aurait pas admis, le compliment lui faisait plaisir.

Après une heure la classe de couture était terminée et Alex apprenait qu’ils étaient libres pour le restant de l’après-midi. Juliette avait classe d’équitation et après avoir mis un pantalon et des bottes était conduit au manège par Marcel, l’homme à tout faire de la maison. Les trois autres se mettaient à jouer dans le jardin. Au début Alex les regardait mais quand elles insistaient il les rejoignait pour sauter à la corde, jouer le jeu de la marelle ou  faire le saute-mouton.

Le temps passait très vite à tel point qu’il était surpris de constater que Juliette était déjà de retour et l’observait en souriant. Il rougissait de nouveau et arrêtait brusquement à jouer. A ce moment  Muriel annonçait qu’il était temps à se mettre en pyjama.

Il était de nouveau le premier dans la douche  mais après quelques secondes le rideau s’ouvrit et sans un mot Emilie se joignait à lui : « Pousse toi, il y a de la place pour deux, avant je prenais souvent ma douche ensemble avec Juliette.»

Muet de stupéfaction il faisait de la place. La fille ne semblait trouver rien de spécial au fait qu’elle prenait sa douche ensemble avec un garçon et, une fois passé sa surprise initiale,  il la donnait raison.  Quand ils sortaient de la douche il constatait avec horreur qu’il y avait déjà une couche qu’il attendait sur son lit, à la vue de tout le monde. Il voulait la cacher en dessous de son lit quand la porte s’ouvrait et que Muriel entrait : « Ah, t’es déjà prêt? Parfait, comme ça je vais te mettre ta couche maintenant et je ne dois plus remonter tantôt » Alex voulait protester qu’il ne pouvait pas descendre en couche, mais elle n’attendait pas et enlevait la serviette qu’il portait autour de sa taille. Avant qu’il réalise ce qui se passait elle avait rempli sa main de talc et l’appliquait sur ces parties privés. Se tenant tout nu debout devant elle, pendant qu’elle caressait son zizi, l’intimidait à tel point qu’il ne savait plus bouger. En plus, il aimait le sentiment doux du talc. Elle lui mettait sa couche pendant qu’il restait debout ce qui lui plaisait.

Quelques minutes plus tard il descendait. Contrairement au jour avant quand il avait remonté la chemise de nuit pour montrer qu’il portait un short en dessous, cette fois-ci  il tirait sa chemise vers le bas, en espérant de couvrir le short en éponge qui était tendu au-dessus de la grosse couche. Mais à peine rentré dans la cuisine une des deux petites éclatait de rire : « Alex a un gros cul ! » Tout le monde le regardait, et devenant tout rouge, il tirait la chemise de nuit encore plus vers le bas. Juliette qui était occupé à mettre la table s’approchait et mettait sa main sur son derrière : « Mais non ma sotte, maman l’a déjà mis en couche c’est tout.»  Puis se tournant vers le pauvre garçon elle continuait : « Allez ne sois pas timide, montre ! » Les larmes aux yeux il laissait remonter sa chemise par sa sœur, dévoilant son derrière garni, au grand plaisir des autres.

Après le diner le scénario du jour précédant se répétait. Toute la bande  regardait un nouvel épisode de Hannah Montana – il commençait à l’aimer – et puis à 8 heures les « 4 petites » allaient au lit.

Une fois au lit il réalisait qu’il devait faire pipi, mais il hésitait à sortir du lit, et de toute façon il n’oserait pas enlever sa couche. Il décidait de retenir mais la pression montante l’empêchait de s’endormir. Il gigotait dans son lit et devenait de plus en plus désespéré. Doucement il demandait à Emily si elle dormait mais il n’y avait pas de réaction. Il disait un peu plus haut qu’il devait faire pipi, et elle répondait en grognant à moitié endormie. Il n’était pas sûre ce qu’elle disait : « Je dors »  ou « Dors ! », mais de toute façon il n’osait plus insister. Se donnant vaincue il laissait échapper un petit flot. Le liquide chaud qui se répandait dans sa couche lui rappelait des vagues souvenirs d’il y a quelques années quand il se mouillait régulièrement. Il avait oublié qu’il aimait ce sentiment. Il laissait échapper un deuxième flot, puis un troisième, jusqu’à ce que la pression dans sa vessie ait complètement disparue. Satisfait il s’endormait en pensant que son nouvel environnement était bizarre, mais que malgré les humiliations c’était mieux que sa vie au pensionnat. Devoir porter une couche, une bavette et un tablier de fille, ce n’était quand même pas tellement grave.

Le lendemain quand il se réveillait il réalisait tout de suite que sa couche était trempée. Il hésitait de sortir du lit mais se souvenait de l’irritation de Muriel du jour précédent et attendait donc jusqu’à ce qu’on vienne les réveiller. Il se tournait vers Emilie et voyait qu’elle était réveillée. Elle le souriait gentiment et puis, de sa façon directe, demandait s’il avait mouillé sa couche. Oh la garce, elle n’avait pas été endormi quand il avait fait part de son problème ! Il rougissait mais ne répondait pas. A ce moment Muriel rentrait dans la pièce : « Ah, réveillé tous les deux ! C’est bien, je crois qu’on va avoir une belle journée ! »   Emilie sautait du lit mais Alex, conscient de sa couche mouillée, hésitait à suivre son exemple. Muriel comprenait tout de suite et enlevant d’un grand geste ses couvertures elle mettait sa main entre ces jambes et soulevait légèrement son short : « Je vois que mon grand a fait un grand pipi ! » Alex rougissait à nouveau et voulait protester que c’était parce qu’elle avait mis sa couche sans qu’il avait su passer à la toilette d’abord, mais elle ne le laissait pas parler : « Dépêche-toi, tout le monde attend déjà pour le petit déjeuner. Tu pourras te changer après. »

Descendant l’escalier Alex était conscient de la couche lourde qui pendait entre ces jambes et il remontait son short. Il n’avait pas vu qu’Emilie le suivait et avait vu son geste. Imitant sa mère elle mettait sa main en dessous de sa chemise et pesait le poids de sa couche : « Pff, ta couche est vraiment trempée ! T’es quand même un vrai bébé. ». Il n’avait rien à répondre et entrait à la cuisine prenant soin de bien tirer sa chemise de nuit vers le bas. Tous les autres étaient déjà là, et il avait l’impression qu’elles regardaient tous son bas ventre. En s’asseyant il tenait sa chemise par le bord en couvrant bien son short, mais il voyait qu’Emilie chuchotait quelque chose à l’oreille de Juliette. Celle-ci le regardait avec un air étonné mais puis, lui donnant son sourire sournois, elle venait vers lui et comme le jour précédant procédait à  lui mettre son bavoir : « Voilà le petit bébé pisseux préparé pour son petit déjeuner ».

Muriel qui avait été en train de préparer des tartines pour les jumeaux, n’avait rien entendu , et se tournant vers sa fille ainée, demandait si elle pouvait préparer une tartine pour son frère. Celle-ci haussait les épaules mais se mettait à faire ce qu’on lui demandait. Quelques minutes plus tard il y avait une assiette avec une tartine à la confiture coupée en petits morceaux devant lui.

Mettant un premier bout en bouche, il se sentait tout d’un coup tellement petit, assise sur sa couche trempée, devant une assiette avec une tartine coupée en petits morceaux,  et portant un bavoir plein de tâches de soupe du jour précédant. A ce moment Emilie le regardait et elle devait avoir eu la même idée, puisqu’elle se tournait vers les deux petites et annonçait tout haut qu’Alex avait mouillée sa couche : « Et pas un petit accident comme Laure a eu il y a quelques mois, mais sa couche est trempée comme avec un petit bébé ! » Alex avait envie de pleurer, mais se retenait sachant que s’il se mettait à pleurer toute la famille le considérerait définitivement comme un bébé.

Après le repas Muriel le laissait monter tout de suite pour aller enlever sa couche et se laver.  Quand il sortait de la salle de bain elle était devant sa garde-robe et se tournant vers lui le tendait une robe d’été : « Je crois que celle-ci t’ira parfaitement ! » Alex la regardait avec des grands yeux. Elle ne croyait quand même pas qu’il accepterait de porter une robe ? « Un pyjama de fille, un tablier, un petit short, tout ça c’était déjà assez grave, mais une robe ? Non, il ne se laisserait plus faire ! »

Muriel l’écoutait calmement mais quand il se taisait elle répondait simplement que Mlle Irène ne l’accepterait plus dans sa classe avec rien qu’un tablier au-dessus de son short. Il réfléchissait une seconde et puis suggérait un pantalon ou un bermuda.  Muriel souriait patiemment, mais répliquait que Mlle Irène trouvait que tout ce qui avait des pipes était une horreur et donc pas acceptable en classe. Alex n’avait plus d’argument mais n’allait pas pour autant accepter de porter une robe. Muriel soupirait avant de conclure que cela signifiait alors la fin de son enseignement. Quand il la regardait sans comprendre elle continuait : « Mais je suppose que ce n’est pas grave. Tu sais lire et compter, ce qui devait suffire pour un garçon. Au lieu de te bourrer le crâne avec plein de connaissances inutiles, je demanderai à Marcel de te prendre comme apprenti. Je suis sûre que tu feras un excellent manuel !» Et avant qu’Alex puisse réagir elle retournait vers la garde-robe, remettait la robe à sa place et sortait le même petit short qu’il avait porté le jour avant.

Quand elle sortait de la chambre il était soulagé. Enfilant le short il affichait un sourire triomphant.  C’est seulement à ce moment-là qu’il se rendait compte qu’Emilie les avait rejoint et avait suivi toute la conversation et la fille de 8 ans avait mieux compris la signification de ce qui venait de se passer que lui : « Alors tu vas vraiment devenir notre bonne ? Que je suis trop heureuse que je suis une fille ! Mais Marcel va être content de ne plus être tout seul. »

Alex haussait ces épaules et sans répondre il descendait ou il trouvait Muriel en conversation avec Marcel. Marcel avait en effet l’air tout content et, souriant, le disait qu’ils allaient former une bonne équipe. Tous les trois allaient à l’arrière cuisine ou Marcel enfilait un cache-poussière au-dessus de ces vêtements comme il faisait toujours pendant qu’il faisait les besognes de ménage. Il tendait un cache-poussière à Alex aussi mais quand il voulait le mettre les deux adultes se mettaient à rire puisque, le cache poussière étant à la mesure d’un adulte assez corpulent, Alex disparaissait dedans. Muriel l’arrêtait et annonçait qu’elle allait chercher quelque chose plus à sa taille. Quelques minutes plus tard elle arrivait avec un tablier d’école en vichy bleu et blanc, le modèle classique à longues manches qui se fermait avec une rangée de boutons dans le dos. Las de protester Alex enfilait le tablier et laissait Muriel l’aider à nouer les lanières en papillon dans la taille sur le dos. Il se consolait que c’était quand même moins grave que le tablier en dentelle blanche, bien qu’il n’en était pas tout à faire sûre.

Une fois à eux deux Marcel lui montrait ou se trouvait l’aspirateur et pendant que Marcel prenait les poussières nettoyait Alex passait les pièces à l’aspirateur. Après ils s’attaquaient aux salles de bains. Avant peu  Marcel annonçait qu’il était temps pour casser la croute. Surpris que le temps ait filé tellement vite Alex se rendait compte qu’il avait faim. En arrivant à la cuisine ils croissaient les filles qui en sortaient pour se rendre à la classe de couture. Alex voyait le regard plein de dédain de Juliette mais faisait semblant de ne pas le remarquer, et de toute façon Emilie l’assiégeait de questions de comment avait été sa première matinée comme « bonne ». Mais c’était sans méchanceté et il répondait en toute sincérité qu’il se plaisait dans son nouveau rôle.

Marcel le demandait de nettoyer la table et de la dresser pour eux deux pendant qu’il réchauffait le diner. Il plaçait  un couteau à côté de son assiette et il regardait Marcel pour voir s’il allait faire une remarque mais Marcel n’avait rien à dire.  Après quelques minutes Marcel servait la soupe et Alex était soulagé de voir qu’il la servait dans deux assiettes profondes. Et son soulagement était complet quand Marcel sortait deux serviettes d’un tiroir. Alex respirait : Pas de bavoir ! Son cauchemar était terminé. S’il pouvait encore convaincre Muriel de ne plus lui mettre une couche pour la nuit tout allait être parfait. Evidemment il réalisait que ce dernier point n’allait pas être facile. Il y réfléchissait pendant qu’ils prenaient leur repas en silence. Marcel était un homme assez taciturne  et cela arrangeait Alex qui avait vite compris que son nouveau compagnon n’avait pas grand-chose à dire de toute façon.

Vers la fin du repas Muriel venait voir si tout se passait bien et demander à

Marcel ce qu’il comptait faire l’après-midi. Quand  il répondait qu’il avait pensé travailler dans le jardin Muriel approuvait, et ajoutait qu’elle chercherait alors une salopette pour le nouvel apprenti.

Le temps de débarrasser  la table et la maitresse de maison revenait déjà avec  une salopette en main. Alex regardait avec méfiance cette nouvelle tenue : C’était une salopette courte, rouge, avec les pipes bordé par une bande en vichy rouge en blanc. De nouveau une tenue de fille mais il haussait ces épaules. Au moins ce n’était pas une jupe ou un tablier.

Il suivait Marcel dans la cabane à outils dans le fond du jardin ou Marcel mettait un bleu de travail et Alex enlevait son tablier d’écolière et enfilait la salopette. Un peu plus tard Alex se trouvait assise dans la terre en train d’enlever des mauvaises herbes  pendant que l’homme à tout faire taillait la haie. Il était assez concentré en ne voyait donc pas tout de suite que les 4 filles s’approchaient. Quand il entendait leurs voix il levait la tête.  Juliette, en tenue d’équitation, le passait sans le regarder, ainsi que les deux petites qui étaient trop occupées l’une avec l’autre pour prêter d’attention au garçon assis par terre. Mais Emily s’arrêtait devant lui les yeux pleins de pitié : « Oh, pauvre Alex ! »  Voyant qu’elle était en tenue de tennis Alex en effet avait un petit pincement de jalousie puisque le tennis était son sport favori. Mais en même temps il était fière qu’elles le voyaient en faisant son « travail d’homme ». Il souriait et avec un air légèrement supérieure voulait répondre qu’il aimait travailler avec ces mains, mais à ce moment Muriel arrivait et détruisait tout l’effet voulu avec une remarque faussement innocente : « Mais elle te va à merveille la salopette rouge ! » Alex une fois de plus ne savait plus quoi dire.

Quelques heures plus tard Marcel disait qu’ils avaient bien avancées, et Alex, contemplant son travail, était en effet satisfait du résultat.  Ils se changeaient de nouveau dans la cabane et puis Marcel prenait congé. Alex rentrait dans la maison et, découvrant que les autres n’étaient pas encore rentrées, décidait d’aller prendre sa douche.  A peine dans sa douche il entendait la porte de la chambre s’ouvrir, et quelques secondes plus tard, Emily le rejoignait. Il faisait de la place en réalisant qu’il aimait prendre sa douche à deux. Et quand il sortait de la salle de bain Muriel l’attendait pour lui mettre sa couche. Il n’avait pas le courage de demander de ne plus le mettre une couche mais avait bien la présence d’esprit de demander s’il pouvait faire pipi d’abord, ce que Muriel acquiesçait en souriant. Quand un peu plus tard il rentrait dans la cuisine avec son pet bien garni, les autres ne prêtaient déjà plus attention.

La soirée se passait comme les précédentes et quand il était temps pour aller dormir il s’endormait tout de suite. Mais vers le matin il se réveillait à cause de la pression dans sa vessie. Sentant la grosse couche entre ses jambes et se  rappelant le sentiment de bien-être du jour précédant quand il avait rempli la couche, il décidait de se mouiller de nouveau. Après avoir senti la chaleur se répandre il se rendormait immédiatement. Quand Muriel le réveillait et contrôlait sa couche personne n’était plus surpris. Entrant à la cuisine il espérait que là aussi le fait qu’il portait une couche trempée n’allait plus faire objet de remarques, mais là il se trompait.  Juliette venant vers lui pour lui mettre son bavoir,  s’adressait à sa sœur : « Et alors est ce que le petit bébé a été propre cette nuit ? »  Emilie secouait sa tête : « Non, non, sa couche est de nouveau trempée ! » Juliette avait de nouveau l’air sincèrement étonné : « Ce n’est pas vrai ? Je comprends qu’au collège tout le monde se foutait de toi, sale petit pisseux ! » Muriel l’interrompait : « Juliette, je ne veux plus entendre des vilains mots comme ça ! Tout le monde à table ! », et Alex baissant ces yeux se laissait nouer le bavoir autour du cou et attendait en silence qu’on lui prépare sa tartine, en pensant que de toute façon dans quelques instants il allait rejoindre Marcel.

Les jours suivants se passaient de la même façon. Au début il se plaisait mais les après- midis, quand il voyait partir les filles pour leurs activités diverses, ou quand il voyait jouer les deux petites, il devenait de plus en plus jaloux. Nettoyer l’argenterie, gratter les carottes, ou faire le repassage, perdaient très vite leur nouveauté. En plus chaque soir Emilie faisait état de ce qu’elle avait appris ce jour, ce qui soulignait son ignorance.  Il commençait à réaliser que sans éducation il allait devoir faire les mêmes besognes pour le restant de sa vie.

Est-ce que Muriel l’avait senti, ou était ce par hasard, mais le soir du troisième jour, quand elle rentrait avec les filles et il était encore occupé à pendre le linge, elle lui demandait s’il n’avait pas encore changé d’avis. Il hésitait, et répondait sincèrement qu’il ne savait plus. Sautant dans la brèche elle argumentait que c’était quand même moins grave de devoir porter une jupe que de rester ignorant et d’être une bonne pour le restant de sa vie.  Alex voyant de loin les 4 filles enthousiastes s’échanger les expériences de leur journée, hésitait toujours, mais acceptait d’essayer.

Le lendemain après le petit déjeuner il trouvait une petite jupe étalée sur son lit. C’était un modèle polo orange, s’ouvrant avec quelques boutons devant, un col blanc et des manches courtes avec un petit bord blanc. Il hésitait de la mettre mais avec l’encouragement d’Emily se décidait et enfilait la robe par-dessus de sa tête, enfilant également les bas blancs que Muriel avait préparé. Emily l’assurait que cela lui allait parfaitement et quand il se regardait dans le miroir devait admettre que c’était moins grave qu’il n’avait pensé.

 

 

Ils se dépêchaient à la classe ou les autres l’attendaient avec enthousiasme. Même Juliette lui donnait un sourire gentil. Il suivait l’exemple des autres et mettait le tablier blanc au-dessus de sa robe, juste à temps avant que Mlle Irène rentrait.

Elle le regardait attentivement pendant quelques secondes pendant qu’il fasse la référence, et puis, elle aussi souriait gentiment : « Bienvenue de retour Alexia ! Je suis contente que t’a décidé de revenir. Et je trouve ta robe très jolie. Elle te va vraiment bien. »

Alex rougissait mais lui aussi était content d’être de retour.

La suite : https://clairodon.wordpress.com/2012/07/31/la-revanche-3/

Memories 4

When baby David was dressed in a cute little romper I was wondering what she had in mind for me, and I wasn’t disappointed. She had me put on a very short gingham nightdress, closing with a row of buttons in the back and with short sleeves, and even better, it came with assorted blooming baby pants. Feeling completely like a little baby girl I was overwhelmed with happiness. I flung my arms around Jenifer’s neck and hugged her very hard. She hugged me back and laughed: “I knew you would like to be my little baby girl!””

…………………

 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 4

 

The following days I longed for Jennifer to diaper me again but I didn’t dare to ask and she seemed to have completely forgotten the incident. Soon afterwards my mother came home and Jennifer’s day of return to the States approached. The day before her departure she took me apart and told me how much she had enjoyed my company. Tears welling up in my eyes I answered that I would miss her very much. She hesitated for a while in silence, and then asked if I would like to spend the coming summer with her in Chicago. I couldn’t believe my ears and without hesitation cried out “Yes”, and jumped around her neck. She smiled and after I had calmed down she told me not to get carried away too fast. It would mean I would have to become a boy again, at least during my stay over there, as we would of course meet other family members. I hadn’t thought about that and the prospect didn’t appeal. But still, if that was the price to pay to spend the summer with my big love, I would gladly pay it. We agreed that Jennifer would talk it over with my mother and then we would see.

That same evening everything was settled. I could hardly wait for the two following months to pass but finally d-day arrived.

 After Jennifer had left my mother told me to stop wearing earrings and my ear-piercings had mostly closed. Together we carefully selected the wardrobe I would be taking. Although the financial situation was much better than a couple of years before we were still living on a strict budget. But without hardly buying any new clothes my luggage – consisting mostly of jeans, T-shirts and sweaters – could have been that of any other boy my age. The only new clothes were light coloured summer trousers and a blue blazer, – that I was supposed to wear on “formal” family occasions – , new shoes and boy’s underwear. I hated the plain white briefs and sleeveless shirts, but that couldn’t temper my excitement to travel to the States and the prospect to spend the summer with Jenifer.

 

As the day of my departure approached I was more and more in love with my beautiful cousin.  When she had been in Europe I had overheard her complain to my mother that living as a woman alone with a child without husband was sometimes hard. So I imagined I would be the “man” in the household helping her to take care of little David. I calculated that when I would be 18 years old she would only be 32, and I would ask her to marry me. I promised myself that before I came back to Europe I would declare her my love and, convinced she loved me too, ask her to wait for me.

The day before I left my mother cut my hair short, and I took off the little hanger I always wore around my neck. The next day I dressed in blue jeans, and a light blue dress shirt under a grey sweater, with brown leather shoes with laces. When I looked in the mirror I was very surprised, but my cousins told me I looked very sharp and, teasingly added that all the girls would fall in love with me. With heartache I looked at the basket with bracelets and hangers that I would have to forgo from now on, but then shrugged and said I was all set to go.

Jennifer was waiting for me at the airport with little David.  She took me by my shoulders and repeated over and what a good looking boy I was, giving me a long hug. I was very happy to find both of them. Jennifer was even better looking than I had remembered and little David, who by now was 9 months old, seemed to recognise me and seemed happy to see me. Taking him out of his trailer, I covered him with kisses. While the two of us were playing, a lady was looking on, and remarked to Jennifer that it was rare for a boy my age to be so interested in a little baby. I heard the remark and turned red. Jennifer laughed and answered that I was indeed different from the other boys. This remark made me very happy, as it confirmed my conviction she didn’t consider me to be in the same ways as the other boys my age. Proudly I put David back in his trolley and began pushing him towards the exit, followed by Jennifer who was pushing the cart with my luggage.

Jennifer lived in an apartment in the middle of a nice green, lake-side garden, at about an hour drive from O’Hare airport. When we got there I had been travelling for more than 12 hours, and I was exhausted. Local time was 7 o’ clock in the afternoon but for me it was 1 o clock at night. Jennifer realized I was tired and suggested I would go to bed immediately, but asked if I wanted to eat first. When I said yes she put David in his park, and installed me at the kitchen table with a bowl of cereals. At the moment I wanted to lift the first spoon she stopped me, and to my surprise showed me a children’s bib saying she wanted me to wear it to protect my sweater. I looked at her thinking she was making a joke, but she seemed to think this was a quiet normal suggestion. I couldn’t believe it and protested strongly. She seemed surprised but didn’t insist.

Ten minutes later I was shown the bathroom and asked if I wanted to take a shower before putting on my pyjamas. When I said I was too tired she said she understood and that I would catch up the next day. She helped me undress, which I found a little awkward, but I was in a kind of a daze and didn’t really realize what was going on. While she undressed me she explained it was a small apartment and I would have to share the room with baby David, which of course I didn’t mind. And then after a second of hesitation she said she hoped the bed would be big enough, as I was taller than she had remembered. Again I didn’t register really what she was saying, until we got to the room. It was a large bright, pastel coloured room. There was a traditional white rocking baby cradle standing next to the window, and next to the wall I saw a white cot bed with wooden bars. She showed me the cot and apologetically asked if I thought I would fit in. I looked at her in disbelief but she lifted her shoulders explaining that she hadn’t any place to put another bed and had decided to put David back in his cradle so that I could use his crib: “It measures 1,50 m, and you always sleep rolled up anyway, so I suppose you’ll be fine, no?”

I was never very tall and probably measured about 1,50 at that time, and did indeed always sleep with my legs pulled up, so she was probably right that I would be fine sleeping in the cot bed. I approached the bed and with Jennifer’s encouragement climbed over the side to test it. I lied down on my side and pulled up my legs. I was really exhausted so lying on the soft mattress felt great. I smiled at Jennifer and told her I would be fine. I wanted to climb out but she said I should stay where I was and go to sleep immediately. As she bend over to give me a kiss I sat on my knees and holding the side bar with both hands bend forward to receive her kiss. This called up memories out of a very distant past and I felt strangely happy. Jennifer told me to lie down so that she could tuck me in. She unfastened a small lock and lowered the side panel to the floor so that she could easily tuck me in and kiss me good night. Before I knew very well what was going on she had pulled the blanket over me, tucked it in on either side, and had pulled up the side bars again. “Good night Chrissie”  “Good night Jennifer”. Two minutes later I was sound asleep, feeling in heaven.

I didn’t hear her putting David in bed and slept for 12 straight hours, and when I woke up it took me a couple of seconds before realizing where I was. The room was lit by a strong sun shining through the curtains putting everything is a soft diffuse light.  I heard some soft noises coming from the cradle and realized David was awake. I sat again on my knees holding on to the side panel. I did it without thinking as this seemed to be the natural position to take, and again those vague memories from some long foregone times came back and made me feel happy.  I wanted this moment to continue but at the same time was conscious this was not what I expected coming to stay with Jennifer.  I climbed out of the crib and went over to the cradle where little David received me with a big smile and happy noises. He held out his arms and I took him out of his little bed. Immediately I felt the heaviness between his legs and I vaguely realized this felt good. Confused by this realization I took him to the kitchen which was still empty. I didn’t know what to do when Jennifer, still half asleep, came in: “Hey what’s going on? Why are my little babies not in bed anymore?” Smiling gently she came over and kissed both of us.

She prepared for both of us a big plate of oatmeal, placed David on his high chair, and put a bib around his neck. Again she showed me another one and suddenly the thought of wearing a bib appealed to me. I smiled awkwardly, and while she bound the bib around my neck I secretly hoped she would spoon-feed me. And indeed while at first she let me eat my oatmeal by myself while she spoon-fed David, after a while she must have sensed my jealousy because at a certain moment she began helping me too.

After breakfast she took us to the bathroom where she changed and washed the little baby while I took a shower. When we were both dressed she asked me to take care of David while she got dressed too. When she was ready she told us we would all be going to visit my grandfather. He was an 89 year old widower living on his own, with some household personnel, in the huge mansion where he had lived most of his life. The drive up there took more than an hour, and about halfway Jennifer drove over to the side of the road and opening the bag she had brought along, put a bib around David’s neck and handed him a baby-bottle. David immediately began sucking happily. And then she turned to me and without any comment handed me a baby-bottle filled with formula too, and proceeded to putting me a bib. I gasped, but then, without any comment either, began drinking from the bottle. It tasted strange, and the sucking was harder than I expected, but after a few seconds I started enjoying it. I got used to the taste and I found that sucking softly on the bottle was very relaxing.

Just before we arrived Jenifer pulled over again to take off the bibs and to put away the bottles. We were not the only visitors. My oldest niece, who lived in the neighborhood, was over with her 3 daughters, of 14, 13 and 11. All 3 stunning American beauties. Of course I was the big event everybody had been waiting for. First my grandfather was asking all kind of questions about home, school, and life in Europe. But after a while he got tired and I was turned over to the curiosity of the girls. But soon cute little David began attracting all attention, except for that of Beth, the youngest of my 3grandnieces, who seemed to be very interested in me. And to be honest I was very much attracted to her too. She was very pretty, wearing a T-shirt over high waisted shorts with a side zip, which accentuated her long tanned legs. She had dark auburn hair bound in a ponytail, and grey-green eyes, in which some lights seemed to be twinkling all the time.

Taking me very naturally by the hand she made me visit the mansion. At a certain moment, standing in front of another door, she mysteriously said, that I was not allowed to enter that room. Made curious I asked of course why not and she explained that it was only for girls. Having completely forgotten I was not a girl anymore I looked at her and in a puzzled way asked why I couldn’t go in then? She looked at me flabbergasted. I realized what I had said and turned all red and began stammering some stupid explanation, which of course made things only worse. She laughed, put her finger on my lips, took me by the hand again, and led me into the room. It was a large room filled with all kinds of toys and games for girls. Mostly dolls and dolls accessories, but also a small play kitchen, a beauty parlor, lots of dress-up clothes, … She showed me a baby doll telling me it was her favorite. I took the doll and honestly told her it was indeed a very nice doll. She looked at me slightly puzzled again, and then, on a confidential tone, she made me promise not to repeat to her sisters what she was going to tell me. I promised of course, and becoming a little bit shy, she confided that when she was here alone she still liked to play with dolls. Happy that she had confided in me I wanted to return the favor, and told her that I used to like to play with dolls. She looked at me surprised, but then, smiling, took me by the hand once more as we left the room. We walked down the big stair in silence, but just before we joined the others she bend over and whispered in my ear: “You are weird second cousin Christian, but I like you.”

The next half hour I spend with the 3 girls, and found myself at ease in their female environment, chatting about girlie matters as if I had known them all my life. When they left I learned we would meet again the next Sunday as there was going to be a big family reunion. I was already looking forward to meeting Beth again. Jennifer, baby David and myself stayed for a quick lunch with my grandfather. We were served some magnificent home-made club sandwiches, by a very nice lady in her late fifties, who was extremely happy to see me as she had known me as a little baby.

After lunch my grandfather and David went for a nap, and Jennifer took me on a stroll through the park surrounding the family mansion, which had a large lawn going right up to the beach of Lake Michigan. The park was huge and beautiful with romantic shady walking paths and benches, and a little bit on the side, a small boathouse of which Jennifer told me it had been the place where my father, her favorite uncle, had spend most of his time. I knew my father had been a sailing fan, and had seen pictures of this boathouse, but seeing it for real was very emotional.

For the return trip home Jennifer took a more scenic road along the lake. The drive took even longer and, David becoming hungry, she stopped at a pick-nick place. Several tables were occupied and Jennifer walked up to a table somewhat separate from the others. She took out a plastic bowl with fruit mash, put the bib around David’s neck and turned towards me holding the other bib in her hand. Understanding what she was up to I panicked, looking around to see if anybody was watching us. Nobody was, but somebody could look at us any moment, so I put my hands around my neck to prevent her from putting on the bib. Jennifer, giving me a magic smile, came up to me, and gently pulled at my hands:  “Come on baby, you don’t want to miss the fruit mash, do you?”

A few seconds later I had the bib around my neck and holding David on my lap, was enjoying the mash that Jennifer was spoon-feeding to both of us, as she had done a few months before at home in Europe.

When we got home Jennifer had some work to do and I played with little David. I really enjoyed building small towers that David, shrieking with laughter, then pushed over. The baby couldn’t get enough of it, and although I enjoyed causing so much merriment, after a while I began getting tired. I was kind of relieved when Jennifer announced it was time to pass at table. She had prepared sandwiches with jam that she had cut up in small pieces for both of us. And of course both her “babies” got a bib. To drink she served us milk in a cup with a beak. I was getting used to those small surprises and of course I understood what she was doing and began wondering what would be next. This was not what I had planned but strange enough I loved it.

Next was that she took us to the bathroom, undressed David and told me to undress too.  It didn’t take long for both of us to be sitting in a warm bath surrounded by floating toys. She played with us, pouring water over our faces, with David shrieking with laughter again. She first washed the little baby’s hair, and then mine, before telling me to stand up so that she could wash me. Of course as had happened a couple of months before when she had washed me, my little thing got an erection, which amused her again.

And, as I had begun to hope, after the bath she diapered both of us. The feeling of the diaper being folded and tightly pinned around my legs, and of the elastics of the plastic pants snapping around my legs, was heaven. But what made it even better was the smell of the baby powder that she had copiously applied to my private parts.

When David was dressed in a cute little romper I was wondering what she had in mind for me, and I wasn’t disappointed. She had me put on a very short gingham nightdress, closing with a row of buttons in the back and with short sleeves, and even better, it came with assorted blooming baby pants. Feeling completely like a little baby girl I was overwhelmed with happiness. I flung my arms around Jenifer’s neck and hugged her very hard. She hugged me back and laughed: “I knew you would like to be my little baby girl!”

She took David in her arms, and leading me by the hand, she installed us in front of the TV, on which she played some toddlers video. While we watched the video she handed both of us a baby bottle with formula, which tasted even better than in the car. Around 9 she told us it was time to go to bed. As she put David in his cradle I climbed in my crib. Tired because of the jet lag I rolled up happily waiting for Jennifer to tuck me in. When she had done that she bent over, gave me a kiss, and plugged a pacifier in my mouth. Half asleep already I watched how she pulled up the side panel of my bed and wishing us a good night put out the lights.

The following days we spend doing some sight-seeing, going to the beach at the lake, and shopping. When away from home I was a model boy playing with the little baby, but from the moment we were home I was treated as if I was 9 months old too. She treated me exactly as she treated David, except that at night, when she had put David to bed, we had our special moment.

After the bath she gave both of us at the end of the day, she prepared David for the night with a special heavy diaper, but she told me to pull on the baby-pants without protection. When we both had finished our bottle she put David to bed and then had me lie down on the coach where she proceeded to diapering me with special care. She gently and softly applied baby powder to the whole area to be covered with the diaper. She then slipped a very large cloth diaper underneath me, together with some extra absorbent pads. She pinned the diaper tightly around my legs and had me stand up to pull up the plastic pants.  I loved the feeling of that thick diaper, making me waggle when I walked. The outfit was finished with a cute, always very short, nightdress and baby-pants. When I was ready she made me sit next to her on the couch, plopped a pacifier in my mouth, and putting her arm around me, read from a children’s book.

Every night when I was sitting next to her she told me how good I smelled. And as I would do everything to please her, I told her I loved the smell and the feeling of baby powder too. From then on she took care to apply it also every morning when I got dressed after breakfast, even when I was not wearing diapers, so that soon I smelled like a little baby from morning to evening without hardly noticing it anymore.

Finding myself diapered and treated as a little baby-girl was not what I had planned, even the opposite of what I had dreamed of. But sitting on her lap, while she softly kissed and stroked me, was pure heaven. I knew I had to stop her, that otherwise my wish to be her protector and future husband, would become more and more ridiculous, but I couldn’t.

One morning, as we had done some shopping together, while she was putting David in his seat, I managed to fold the trailer and put it together with all the groceries in the trunk. She complimented me on my efficiency and, kissing me on the front, thanked me by saying she was so glad I was staying with her, that I was such a lovely boy to have around. I suddenly saw my chance, and I blurted out that I loved her, and that I could stay to live with her forever. She looked at me surprised, but also moved by what I had said. She gave me a very tender smile, took me in her arms, and said I was so sweet. My adrenaline rushed through my veins, and I hugged her very hard, thinking she was accepting my proposition. But then she freed herself and still on a very gentle tone, said I knew it was impossible, that I had to go back to my mother.

Feeling the rejection I reacted by telling her vehemently I loved my mother very much, but that I loved her more, that I wanted to stay with her forever, that I wanted to marry her and that I could be a father for little David. To my dismay she began laughing, and taking me in her arms again, she hugged me telling this was the sweetest love declaration she had ever heard. We stood there for a few seconds without moving, but then she continued on a more neutral tone: “Don’t try to grow up too fast my little angel, those are the happiest years of your life, enjoy them. You can be David’s big brother, or sister, he loves it when you play with him. And I enjoy having my two little darlings with me, seeing how well they get along.”

She bent over and whispered in my ear:  “Come on, you sweet little baby, jump in the car and let’s go home, so that I can put both of you in bath” She freed herself and gave me a gentle push towards the car. As I walked away she followed me and gave me a little tap on my bottom:” I think that from now on I will put you in diapers when we are going out. I’m sure you would love that.”

Seating me in the back next to David I blushed. If I couldn’t be her man, being her little baby was not such a bad alternative. As if she had read my thoughts she helped me fasten my seat belt and popped a pacifier in my mouth.

On Sunday we went back to my grandfather’s mansion. I dressed in my ironed beige trousers, with a navy blue blazer over a dress shirt with tie. I really looked smart. When we got there the parking lot was filled with cars and everywhere we went we ran into people to whom I had to be introduced. My old uncles and aunts were very curious, and just as my grandfather the week before, wanted to know everything about my mother. They obviously still loved her very much.

When I got tired of them I went out looking for Jennifer and David but couldn’t find them. Instead I ran into Beth’s older sisters who introduced me to some handsome, broad build older cousins, with whom they had been flirting.

I asked for Beth but got as only answer that she was out there somewhere. Just as I wanted to go and look for her another cousin arrived holding a football, asking who wanted to join him for a game. I told them I didn’t know the rules of American football but that was of course a reason for them to insist to teach me the sport.  I did know the basic rules and my competitive nature soon got the upper hand. Nobody paid much attention to this frail European boy who didn’t know the sport, so I ran myself free and called out to receive the ball.  Probably to do me a favor the cousin holding the ball threw it in my direction, and I did a perfect catch, running as fast as I could away with the ball. It took the other players a couple of seconds to realize what I was doing, and when one of the huge players came up to me to block me, I dived underneath his arms and made a touchdown. Everybody ran over to congratulate me.

I continued for half an hour with my normal enthusiasm but now they knew that I was fast and a good catcher, so they didn’t leave me unguarded anymore. The result was that on several occasions I was thrown to the ground, and my pants and shirt were soon all dirty and stained – I had taken of my blazer and tie of course – but I didn’t care. I was only hoping that Jennifer would pass by and see how fast I was. But she didn’t, and when I noticed the disastrous condition of my clothes I even got worried that if she did, she might be mad.  I excused myself and went looking for a place where I could clean up a little bit.

It was then that I ran into Beth. She was taking care of a bunch of girls between 3 and 5 years old. They were sitting on the grass surrounded by dolls and accessories they had carried outside. Beth was delighted to see me and sprang up to give me kiss: “Here you are! We have been looking all over for you.” And then turning to the girls she continued with a mischievous smile: “Look girls, this is cousin Christian that I told you about, the one who likes to play with dolls.” The girls shrieked with unbelief and merriment, and the oldest one cried out: “That’s not true. I don’t believe you. He is a boy!” For a split second I hesitated but then decided to go along with the game. Falling on my knees I picked up a large baby doll and cuddled it my arms, softly telling it to sleep: “Dodo, dodo, baby Lo, … ” The girls laughed even harder: ”She is called baby Mary, not Lo!”

I smiled, and corrected myself  “Oh I’m sorry!  Dodo baby Mary!” But again the girls interrupted me: “She is not ready to go to sleep. She has to be diapered first!” The next half hour the 5 of us were all absorbed playing with the dolls, when suddenly I heard Jennifer’s voice behind me: “Hi Beth, I see you have found someone to share your secret with!” While I turned around and, blushing, looked at Jennifer’s smiling face, Beth jumped up again and kissed her cousin: “Oh Jennifer, thanks for bringing him, he is so sweet!”  I blushed even harder when Jennifer answered that I was even sweeter than she imagined. But Beth’s attention had shifted already to baby David in his trolley, asking if she could take him out.  Jennifer said it was alright, but just for a minute as we would soon be leaving. She turned to me again, telling me to go say good bye to my grandfather. As I was leaving she held me back, and in a soft voice told me to pass by the bathroom on my way back: “It’s a long drive, and we don’t want accidents do we?”  Although she said it in a very quiet voice I anxiously turned towards Beth to see if she had overheard this remark.  As I turned I realized that Beth was standing right next to me, looking at me with a surprised and amused face. I blushed for the third time in a few minutes, and ran fast away.

Sitting in the car next to David returning home I was all confused. I was, sucking on a baby-bottle, wearing a bib, and that felt so right. But at the same time I was still in love with Jennifer, more than ever, and having been turned down by her did hurt. I had been very proud going to the party, smartly dressed in my trousers and blazer. When I had been the center of attention, and had made a touchdown in the football game, I had been hoping that Jennifer would have come by and would have seen what a vigorous football player I was. But instead she had found me playing with dolls. And when she had made me blush by saying I was even sweeter that Beth imagined that had made me feel happy.  And I had begun to love Beth very much too. I saw her surprised face again when Jennifer had told me to go to toilet as we didn’t want to have an accident in the car. I suddenly wanted her to know I liked to wear diapers.

For the next chapter go to https://clairodon.wordpress.com/2012/09/20/memories-5/