This choice: I think you will be much happier as my baby • Go Back...Chapter #5A slightly unhappy baby by: bask25456   "I think I will be much happier with you as my baby." Deb says brightly, smiling down at you. You take a step back, gaping up at her:
"WHAT!!!?" You exclaim, your voice embarrassingly rising several octaves. You had always been extremely small, a source of much teasing and physical "humor", but no one had ever suggested you belonged back in diapers!
"I said, I think you will be much happier as my baby." She bends over, (un?)intentionally causing her bosom to hang down and hover just outside of your reach overhead, "I really wasn’t sure about having some young guy in the house, having to take care of another trouble-prone high schooler, but then I heard about your size and your awful grades from your parents, and I immediately thought of a much easier solution. It'll be so much easier to take care of two Jessica's, as it were, than two Peggy's."
Your fascination with the massive globes hanging over your head distracts you slightly, but not nearly enough to dissipate your horror from this plan. You begin to edge away from Deb as she straightens up again and looks away into the Nursery:
"I've already got your crib set up and a few clothing options to start. As long as we're careful, I think I've got enough to last until we go shopping. Not that you wouldn't look cute in some of Jessica's things," she assures you with a sideways smile, "but honsestly, between her and Danielle, I'm really starting to lose my affection for pink. A nice baby boy blue will add some variety, don't you think?" She notices your sideways creeping and adopts a more sympathetic tone:
"Don't worry honey, it'll be great for you too! Won't it be wonderful to get away from those nasty tests you clearly aren't ready for, and dealing with those big kids bullying you all the time? This way, you'll be taken care of by me and your big sisters Peggy and Danielle, and you'll get to play with your new little sister Jessica. Although," She chuckles and points at the wall right near you, "given the rate she's growing, you'll probably be her little brother instead in a few months." On the wall next to the door are a series of lines, clearly Jessica’s growth chart. The most recent line, dated more than a week ago, comes up almost to your chin.
That tears it. You can't imagine what your parents were thinking leaving you with this crazy lady, but you hae no intention of being this women's baby, or the infant brother to a pair of little girls. You turn to run out the door- only to have it slam closed inches in front of your face. You bounce off and fall backwards, landing on your back, staring up in dread at the giant figure of Deb standing over you- she was a sneaky one when she wanted to be.
Before you can even draw breath, Deb leans down and you're snatched into the air by giant hands. Deb tries putting you over her shoulder, but the instant you went into the air you started thrashing and yelling. Deb gives an exasperated "tut" when she's still having problems after a few moments of your squirming, and you feel your stomach flip over. Deb had flipped you upside down and was carrying you by the ankles , one in each hand, your head hanging down. Your thrashing was unimportant at this point, and she ignored your screaming. Even that was quickly reduced when your squirms loosened your shirt, causing it to flip downwards and cover your head.
With you blinded and muffled, Deb makes much better progress. Within seconds, she has you on the changing table. She doesn't release you, however, instead laying your torso mostly down on the soft changing mat, but keeping your ankles grasped and quite elevated. Transferring both ankles to one single grip, she gets to work on your clothing. Your shirt is still up and the suspension totally destroys your coordination. All you can do is keep shouting and slap your arms on the table as Deb removes shoes, socks, and then shorts. She pauses at your underwear:
"These are some mighty cute little spider-man tighty-whities, but clearly even these are inappropriate. They're practically falling off!" She was right, of course. You always had had trouble getting clothing, with even embarrassing small boy underwear being just too loose. Deb makes short work of these, leaving you naked from the waist down.
After admiring her handiwork for a second, Deb finally sees fit to release you from your cloth prison. Reaching towards your head (stopping a along the way to "coochie coochie coo" your exposed belly, eliciting fresh squirming), Deb easily yanks off your shirt, leaving you naked on the table.
You had thought you were giving the struggle your all, but the site of yourself laying naked as the day you were born on a changing mat, legs in the air, butt presented to Deb for diapering, inspired new heights of screaming and struggling. After a particular piercing screech, Deb winces and pauses;
‘You certainly have quite a set of lungs on you.” She mutters, voice losing its cheery maternal overtones. She frowned down at your still-writhing form, then brightens as she thinks of a solution. She leans down, reaching under the changing table with her free hand, while the other keeps your ankles suspended. Your efforts and squirms continue to be useless, you don’t have any leverage and her force is overpowering, even when distracted. The entire strength of your legs and body can’t pull your ankles free from her one handed grip. She soon straightened again:
“this should settle your fussing a bit” She said brightly. Before you can wonder what she meant, you experience an intense cold sensation on your exposed butt cheeks and privates. You yelp then gasp, cries cut off by the intense cold sensation that quickly runs up your spine and spreads through your body, raising Goosebumps and setting scant body hair on end. Deb smiles in satisfaction:
“Very good baby, much better. I’m glad I keep this stuff in the fridge. Now keep quiet while I finish applying my homemade diaper cream to your diaper area.” Your body tenses at the word “diaper cream”, but before you can do anything she slathers on a new dose of slimy coldness, liberally covering your groin and sending a fresh wave of chill through your body. You can’t do anything but gasp, you can’t move or yell, you can’t even try to beg and plead with a normal voice. You’re as helpless as any other baby, naked and butt raised for your new diaper.
Deb smiles and wipes her creamed up hand on your shirt before discarding it.
“Looks like my new baby boy is all ready for his new diapie!” She says in a baby talk voice. She reaches down again and brings up a square of crinkly white plastic, making sure to hold it over your head to see. It’s got awful cartoon designs on it, and you can’t do anything but whimper as she expertly unfolds it, sets it down and slides it under your bum.
She sets your rear down in your new diaper, but keeps your ankles raised and clamped together while she fils the air with an excess of baby powder, causing you to cough. You really don’t like the feel of gritty slime from the powder/cream combination, and despise the plastic softness beneath your naked butt, but there’s nothing you can do as she reaches down and starts to fold the diaper up in between your legs. Suddenly, she pauses, something occurring to her:
“Hmmm. While I’ve got you like this…”
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