A potential boyfriend

The weeks went by and I started to forget what it was like not wearing a diaper 24/7, and being treated like a baby most of the day.

The Christmas holidays was just few days away, when Tommy asked Daddy if he would be allowed to take me on a trip with his parents, to a cabin they owned. We’d leave the day before Christmas, and would be gone for a fortnight.

“That’s a hell of a lot of responsibility you’re taking on there, son,” Daddy said in his usual, quiet way, “but if you think you’re up to it, then I don’t see why not.” He looked at me sitting in the pram, and commented, “It’s been a busy few months, and I guess we could use a bit of ‘alone-time’, right about then. If you put her in her play-pen, we can call your parents and make the necessary arrangements.”

“Yes, SIR,” Tommy said. With gleaming eyes he wheeled me into my room, and lifted me inside the pen. He kissed me gently on the top of my head, and mumbled: “We’re going to have so much fun you and I, you’ll see!” He left, and I could hear him and Daddy make the phone call.


When they came back, the discussion was in full swing.

“I’m guessing she’s gonna need at least two or three packs of diapers,” Daddy was talking into a cord-less phone. “And, as I’m guessing you don’t have a play-pen or a crib, I think it would be best if you kept her reins on, as much as possible to stop her from crawling away when you don’t want to. Mmm,” he nodded, “Tommy can show you which diapers I’m using. He’s actually become quite an expert on how to care for Elli.”

I looked at Tommy and saw him blushing. ‘I’m glad I have the pacifier in my mouth, otherwise he’d have seen my big grin! He looks so cute!’ I thought.


Departure-day came and Tommy and his parents drove up to our house. I lay on the changing-table, and Tommy changed my diaper and dressed me in my bright pink, one-piece snow-suit, another and thicker pair of thumb-less mittens on top of the ones I was already wearing, a kitted hat and a long, knitted scarf. Daddy pushed me out to the car, and pried me through one of the doors, before folding the pram together and putting it in the boot.

“Everyone; this is Elli,” Tommy introduced me, as the car started moving. “As she’s in her baby-mode at the moment, she’s not allowed to speak; coo maybe, but not speak. I will allow her to be her own age a couple of times a day, between meals. When she’s in ‘baby-mode’, she wants to be treated like one; when she’s not, she wants to be treated like everyone else. She’s started wearing diapers 24/7 when she became a teenage baby, and I or mum will change them for her as she’s not allowed to visit the bath-room alone anymore, except when I give her a shower each morning. She is not allowed to feed herself; I’m the only one who is. When she’s outdoors, she sits in her pram.

Any questions so far?”

Everyone shook their heads. Then Mark, Tommy’s dad, asked if things really had to be so strict.

“Yes, they do; for the sake of realism, or as close as we can get to it.” Tommy replied. “And remember; it was all her idea from the start, I’m just “following orders” as they say. But if you ask her if she wants to go back to being ‘normal’, I’m pretty sure she’ll say she doesn’t, and probably never will. She’d probably tell you that this is her new normal.” He turned to me and started cooing: “You would, wouldn’t you? Yesh, you would!” He poked me in the ribs (where I’m insanely ticklish) and making faces that looked so ridiculous I burst out laughing.

“See?” he said pointing at me. “She likes it too much to change back; don’t you, girl? Yes, you do!”


When we arrived at the cabin, after having spent the best part of two hours on the road, everyone pitched in and unloaded the car; everyone but me, that is. I was left strapped to my car-seat, and as I had the thumb-less mittens on, I couldn’t undo the clasps.

When everything had been put in its place, Mark came and unfolded the pram, put me in it and made sure all the straps were correctly connected, before wheeling me inside.

I was wheeled into the room I would be sharing with Tommy, and put on the bed, so he could take the clothes off I no longer needed.

When Stacey saw my diaper, she asked who had put it on.

“I have, of course,” her son replied.

“Well, in that case you really do remember how to diaper another person. I couldn’t have done it better myself, actually.”

“Thank you, mommy!” he said, with a wry smile.


A couple of hours later, I had a rare opportunity to be my own age, even though I still had to wear my baby outfit.

When Stacey saw me walking she asked me if what Tommy had told them in the car was true. 

“You mean me wanting to be diapered for the rest of my life? Yes, today the answer is ‘I do’. What it will be tomorrow? Who knows; I might have had a change of heart. Or, maybe not. 

The End

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