College or Cribs

Chapter 11
The Times They Are A Changin'

Chapter Description: The world as he knew it ripped to pieces both in fantasy and reality. Chris is on the verge of a nervous breakdown when the clock strikes midnight.

Chapter 11: The Times They Are A Changin’

Chris rocked back and forth in his seat. What in the world had happened? There was no trace of AB/DL content on the entire internet. No evidence of its existence whatsoever. There wasn’t even Peeker’s Pampers Page. (Oh God, how desperate was he, if he was willing to settle for Peeker’s Pampers Page?) The entire community had been wiped out. Two days ago, Chris had literally spent an entire day as a baby with no one thinking it odd. Now, it seemed, reality had been altered once again so that there was no such thing as infantilism, or diaper fetishes or adult babies.

He looked over at Wubby, the damn bear was still smiling at him, mocking him. Chris narrowed his eyes. “What did you do?” he hissed through clenched teeth to the stuffed animal. “What the hell is wrong with me? I’m talking to a stuffed animal.” Wubby for his part, remained silent. Chris swiped the bear off of his desk and went back to his computer screen.

On a hunch of sorts, Chris went to youtube and searched “Tom and Jerry Baby Puss”. Sure enough, that popped up. It had been one of his favorite cartoons growing up because it showed that a grown up (cat in this case…whatever) could enjoy being treated as a baby (as long as others didn’t see it.). Next, he typed in “Donald Duck, Modern Inventions.” Yup, that was there too. Then, Chris searched for “Baby Bottle Neck.” That was there too. So the founding basics of forced diapering by machine were there. Even Ren and Stimpy’s the “Big Baby Scam” was on there. So were a couple of episodes of more modern cartoons like Fairly Odd Parents, Chowder, Dexter’s Lab and so on. A lot of the cartoons and building blocks for fanfics etc. etc. were there.

Chris sat back, though still not at ease. So the direct infantilist content was not there, but some things that infantilists could be interested in was still there. Chris glanced over, and started a bit when he saw Wubby once again on his desk, despite not having picked the bear up off the floor. Chris leaned over.

“What game are you playing at?” he asked. Wubby chose to remain silent as all stuffed bears not named Teddy Ruxbin do. Chris was truly beginning to hate his childhood keepsake.

A nagging detail was still lingering in Chris’s mind. What about what Sherry had said earlier? She had told Chris that she had found the diapers in his closet at college, but had just assumed they were for bed wetting or incontinence issues. Why had that happened? How was it possible to look at adult sized baby style diapers, some of them with “baby-fresh scent” added in, and come to any conclusion other than that they were for some sort recreational use. Hell, even if she had just innocently thought “Costume Party”, or “Joke” what with Valentine’s day featuring a winged diaper-clad angel as it’s holiday mascot, that would have made more sense.

“Chris,” Roxanne’s voice called from behind his bedroom door, interrupting his reverie. “Are you still up?”

Chris snapped himself out of his funk long enough to glance at the time on his computer. It read 11:45 PM. Wow, he had been at this for hours.

“Yeah, I’m up,” Chris called back to his step-mother. He couldn’t help but keep a little of the melancholy in his voice. There was a pause.

“Is everything okay?” Roxanne asked, her voice signaling a hint of concern.

“Yeah Mo-“ Chris cut himself off and immediately corrected, “Roxanne. I’m fine. Just a little lost in thought I guess.”

“Okay,” Roxanne said, her words intoning not-quite-belief. “It’s just that you haven’t been up this late since you came home from school. I got up to get a drink of milk and saw that your bedroom light was still on. Having trouble sleeping, hon?”

“Little bit” Chris sighed. What else could he say?: ‘It’s not that Roxanne but it seems that two days ago I was being treated like your infant son, which has kind of been a secret fantasy of mine since at least puberty and now it’s as if my own personal kink has been erased from existence along with all of my internet friends and community who shared the kink with only me even knowing of its existence in the first place. By the way, I suspect my old teddy bear is now magic or I’m going completely insane.’? Yeah….it was definitely best to stick with ‘little bit’ in this instance.

“That sucks,” Roxanne confirmed how Chris was feeling, even if she thought she was only sympathizing with his insomnia.

“Yyyup.” Chris agreed gloomily with yawn.

“Well if you’re still having trouble,” she suggested, “there’s some Advil PM in the guest bathroom’s medicine cabinet. I’m going back to bed.”

“Okay,” Chris sighed, “g’night.”

“Night night,” his step-mother called back, her footfalls becoming more faint as she retired for the evening. Chris exhaled audibly. He hadn’t been this tense when he thought Roxanne was going to walk in on him looking up real pornography. Now his favorite kind didn’t even exist. Oh yeah, he had almost forgot. What about Sherry finding the diapers?

Chris glanced over at Wubby suspiciously as he typed in the next series of web addresses. Suspicion confirmed: Bambino’s, ABU’s, Fabines, all gone. No, correction; never were there to begin with.

Chris sighed dejectedly. Of course there were no AB/DL diapers. There was absolutely no market for it, so why would anyone go the trouble to manufacture it? The answer was they wouldn’t. And since however this insanity worked seemed to be retroactive- for when Chris was treated as a baby it was as if he had always been an infant and as far as the internet was concerned now, certain web pages weren’t deleted insomuch as they never existed- that meant that when Sherry found his secret stash that fateful Valentine’s day, she didn’t find fetish diapers, but just regular old adult incontinence products. Reality had been altered so that instead he had bought attends or depends or something you’d be more likely to get from a pharmacy than from a kink shop.

Frantically, he typed at the keyboard. He googled “scat,” and “cross dresser”, and “BDSM”, and “Furry”, and “Human Furniture”, and every other fetish he could think of. All searches revealed positive results complete with chat boards, video sites, story sites. Rule 42 was in full effect for everything but him. The world hadn’t gone vanilla, just his flavor of sexuality had been taken off the shelves.

Chris’s eyes began to cross as he started to connect the dots. This was bullshit! He hated this kind of sci-fi crap when it happened in the movies. Now it was happening TO him. His original fear and hypothesis actually sounded a little better than his current situation. At least if he was trapped in some kink story he’d likely either be A) Trapped in diapers forever with his mind finally regressing and being happy forever, or at least not aware of his plight or B) gradually come to accept his new life. There were surprisingly very few if any stories where the protagonist was not diaper dependent by the end of the story.

But this…this was just unacceptable to him. It’s not like he was thinking ‘Poor me, my kinky stuff is gone, and my favorite jerk-off stories are only in my imagination now instead of in print.’ It’s more like part of him was being erased. Denied.

Multiple times throughout his young life, he had tried to fight his fetish. He had tried to deny it, he had tried to hide it, and he had hated himself for it. He had desperately wanted a cure for himself. He had even prayed at church for a cure a few times. All of it had eventually failed and he had relapsed back into his fantasy world of highchairs, cribs, bottles, and changing tables.

And then when he found this community, this wonderful community of people who had something in common with him. Their stories were so much like his own. They were people that he could talk to, and listen to and share their stories and struggles. They were his support group for feeling something close to “normal” whatever that was. He had never even met any of them, never knew them beyond their avatars posts, chat logs and private messages, but he had still known them to a degree. He had known he wasn’t alone in his flights of fancy and feelings of shame. He even liked the “Non-AB/DL” topics because that showed that these people like him, were more than just their respective kinks. And now they were all gone. He was alone again, all alone. All by himself with his kink.

Yeah it a part of himself that he wasn’t comfortable sharing with others, and yeah he was ashamed of it and yeah his initial plans for working it in with his relationships and career was “don’t” and “take this secret to your grave”, but it was still a part of him. IT WAS HIS GODDAMNIT! And now God, or the Devil, or a stupid fucking teddy bear was taking it all away from him!

Chris screamed at the computer screen. It made his throat hurt and his blood pump even harder. It was a raging, wild animal shriek; the kind a cave-man must have done right as he bashed a predator’s head in with a rock.

He jumped up, hefted his chair over his head and tossed it at the wall, making a loud crashed.

“What was that?!” he heard Roxanne ask his father. But he didn’t care. He heard the frightened shrieks of Samantha and Briana. He didn’t care. He was angry, he was manic, he was shouting. He couldn’t stop himself even if he wanted to. And he didn’t.

“HOW DARE YOU?!” he shrieked at Wubby. “HOW! FUCKING! DARE YOU?!” Hot tears were flowing down Chris’s face. Snot was bubbling out his nose. He was sobbing loudly and violently, waving his arms desperately.

The door slammed open and Roxanne rushed in. Chris whirled around to face her, baring his teeth and drooling like a mad dog, still crying and his eyes filled with desperation and insanity. Roxanne took a step back, the fear plain on her face. He stopped himself from growling. He didn’t want to scare her anymore. But he couldn’t stop himself from blubbering and whaling like a 5 year old who just saw Bambi’s mom get shot.

“Chris!” Roxanne gasped. Her face changed from fear to worry, her tone filled with motherly concern. “Honey…sweetie…what’s wrong?”

He couldn’t tell her. Literally. All of the adrenaline rushing to his head, and anger and panic he was feeling was inhibiting the language center of his brain. He couldn’t tell her what was wrong if he had wanted to, and right now, he desperately needed someone to talk to, someone who would understand. He needed a mother, and she was the closest living thing he had. But he couldn’t talk, couldn’t bring the words to come out of him. His throat just kept choking up.

“Chris, baby...” Roxanne broke the silence. “Honey. Tell me…please.”

Chris still couldn’t eloquently describe what was happening to him, or how he felt. Then, some words did come to him. They were the words from an old story book his mother, his real mother had read to him as a child, ‘Frog and Toad Are Friends.’

“THE WHOLE WORLD IS COVERED WITH BUTTONS, AND NOT ONE OF THEM IS MINE!” he howled. He collapsed in a heap on the floor, still crying his eyes out and flailing pathetically. He felt a warm trickle form in his crotch that started to run down into the carpet. He was pissing his pants right there in front of her.

“CHRISTOPHER!” Roxanne shouted out the door. “GET IN HERE, NOW! CHRIS IS HAVING SOME KIND OF NERVOUS BREAK DOWN! HUR-”

Then everything went quiet. Dead quiet. Chris looked up, teary eyed. Roxanne was frozen, her mouth still open to shout down the hallway. But she didn’t move. Chris looked to his side and found Wubby clutched in his arms. He tried to toss the bear away, but his hands wouldn’t let go. He tried to stand up so he could pitch it out the window, but his legs wouldn’t cooperate.

Chris managed to get a look at his computer. The screen flashed 12:00. Midnight. The air seemed to shimmer like a mirage in the desert. Then Chris’s room began to change.

First the walls started to shift, taking on slightly different dimensions, the walls creaked and groaned as they adjusted themselves. A little shorter here, and a little wider there, but the dimensions were still roughly the same. The bathroom door shut and stretched filling in the gaps in the threshold. Now it was just part of the wall, the doorknob making a “thoomp” sound as it was sucked. Then came the closet and the window. The closet doors closed and then slid clockwise around the walls till they occupied the approximate space where the bathroom door had been. The window followed suit and maneuvered around the room, its view somehow changing with it. Where before it showed a view of roof shingles and a second story view, now it showed purely front yard and a first story view.

The walls turned baby-blue, and bunny stencils drew themselves in along the borders. Matching curtains whooshed in from nowhere and billowed out over the window. His bed shambled over to the middle of the room and scooped him up before taking its place on the wall across from the entranceway.

Chris immediately tried to crawl away when the sheets came alive. They levitated him, wet-pants and all into the air, as if possessed and flipped him back onto the mattress like a pancake before covering him like deployed parachute. The shock was so great that even more urine streamed fourth from Chris’s bladder, wetting the sheets. Chris dug himself out of the sheets and was forced to do a double take. His sheets had gone from the plain old reversible tan and navy blue blanket to a teddy bear motif, his cover sheet likewise. He tried to crawl or roll or at least fall out of bed to get away, but before he could wooden bars blocked his path with a “thwang”. The bed raised up with a jerk as the bedposts elongated and elevated. Chris shifted his weight on the mattress, and the crinkle of a plastic sheet confirmed it…Chris was out of his bed and back into his crib.

Meanwhile, his computer desk shuffled to the other side of the room. It stretched and groaned and thickened so it could support Chris’s weight with ease, and the drawers removed themselves and reoriented and contorted, becoming shelves on the changing table. Notebooks and reams of computer paper clumped together and became baby wipes before skipping into a tub that was once Chris’s printer. The computer hopped off beside it and warped plastic and glass and wires turning it into a diaper genie. A plastic changing mat fell from the ceiling and landed with a plop atop the changing table. The computer chair rolled opposite of the changing table, and its wheels fused and expanded and steel became wood as it transmogrified into a rocking chair.

The closet doors flung themselves open, revealing a bevy of adult sized baby clothes and boxes of diapers. One of the boxes opened themselves and giant Pampers burst forth flapping about like bats shooting out of a cave. They came to rest on the shelves of the changing table before folding themselves. What must’ve been Chris’s body spray or cologne hopped out of the closet and shimmied up the leg of the changing table before morphing into a bottle of baby powder.

Then Chris felt himself being to transform. He felt a slight itching as every bit of body hair he had sucked into him, his skin becoming smooth and soft. On instinct, Chris jammed his thumb into his mouth to prevent the oncoming panic attack. Thiswasn’thappeningthiswasn’thappening.

His shirt and shorts seamlessly fused together before becoming a baby-blue that matched the walls. The legs of his baggy shorts folded in like an accordion and disappeared completely, and the button of his shorts disappeared from his waist to around his nether regions while splitting into three separate crotch snaps. He was wearing a onesie, but his urine soaked boxer-briefs still poked out of the leg holes.

Finally, he felt his underwear getting thicker, and a noticeable bulge formed in the onesie, while the tell-tale crinkling of a diaper filled his ears. The leggings of his boxer briefs shrunk and withered down into the diaper’s leak guards.

He was now sitting in a very wet and leaky diaper, in a crib with urine soaked sheets. His face was red from crying and the tears had not yet dried. Snot bubbles clung to his nose and his breathing was still labored from the sobbing. The transformation complete, a little voice whispered in his head “bye-bye”. Chris looked down and only saw Wubby’s beady black eyes staring at him.

Roxanne remained in place, frozen in time during all of this. Then the clock struck 12:01. Roxanne moved again. Her demeanor changed from a genuinely scared woman to a doting caregiver.

“What’s the matter baby boy?” she cooed walking towards the crib. “Did you have a nightmare, Chris?”

Chris shook his head sniffling. He knew better than to talk. It wouldn’t do any good right now, and right when he really needed someone to talk to.

Roxanne sniffed the air and caught the heavy whiff of ammonia. She took the sheets from the crib and rubbed a wet section between her thumb and forefinger. “Awww, sweetie, did you have an axident?” she asked in motherese. Chris didn’t deign to respond. They both knew.

“It’s okay Christopher,” Roxanne spoke into the baby monitor using her “adult voice”. “It’s just a leaky diaper and a wet bed. I’ll take care of it.” Then she picked Chris up out of his crib and held him close. “I know, I know,” she shushed.

“You don’t,” Chris cry-mumbled, a fresh set of tears starting to come from his eyes, “you really don’t.”

Chris didn’t struggle as his onesie was unsnapped and removed, leaving him in just his soaked diaper. He was too exhausted from his tantrum to put up much of a fight. Roxanne cleaned the snot off of his face with a baby-wipe.

“Having a leaky diaper is no fun at all, is it?”, she cooed. Chris just meekly nodded. “I know. I know. Well Mommy will change your diaper and your sheets and then you can go right back to sleep, okay?” Once again Chris only nodded his understanding.

Chris sucked his thumb, helplessly, as his step-mother ripped open the tapes of the diaper and opened it up so she could wipe his private parts with cool moist wipes.

“Is everything okay?” a familiar voice interrupted Chris’s reverie. It was Sammy, still in her pajamas from this morning, looking like she had just woken up. She leaned in the entrance to the nursery. Christ, not again. “Chris was screaming his head off.”

“Everything fine, Samantha,” Roxanne assured her. “Chris just wet the bed.” Samantha furrowed her brow as a question came across her face.

“Um…doesn’t he do that every night anyways?” she asked. “We’re not trying to potty train him yet, are we?” she added with a mix of curiosity and concern.

“Oh no, he’s still much too young for that,” Roxanne chuckled. “and even if he was two-years old, he probably won’t be ready till he’s at least three. Boys tend to potty train a lot later than girls. In general boys grow up much more slowly than girls do.”

Sammy considered for a moment, as Roxanne moved to wiping Chris’s backside. “Well, I suppose I won’t hold that against him.” Both she and Roxanne shared a tired laugh.

“No…no. I guess not.” Roxanne agreed as she reached under the changing table for a fresh diaper. “No, what happened was Chris had a leaky diaper and it spilled all over his clothes and sheets.

“Can I help?” Sammy asked.

“Oh you don’t need to do that,” Roxanne explained as she unfolded the fresh diaper and slid it under Chris’s backside, “it’s after midnight and I’ve got it under control.”

“It’s summer break,” Sammy pressed, “I like helping take care of him, I don’t have school tomorrow, and I’m not sleepy anymore anyways.”

“Alright,” Roxanne relented, drawing up the new diaper between Chris’s legs. “Would you mind stripping his sheets and throwing them in the hamper, wiping down the plastic sheet on his mattress and then putting some new sheets on for him?”

“No problem,” Sammy chirped as she began stripping the wet teddy bear themed sheets off of Chris’s crib. Roxanne finished fastening the tapes to the fresh diaper. She kept one hand on Chris’s chest as she reached under the table.

Roxanne took out a bottle of lotion and squirted some directly onto Chris’s tummy. While Samantha was wiping down the plastic sheet with some baby wipes, Roxanne was rubbing in sweet smelling on Chris’s chest and belly, gently massaging it in. The sweet aroma had a calming effect on him and he let his eyelids droop a little. Roxanne moved on to rubbing the stuff into his shoulders and down his arms. Then his legs, while Sammy fiddled with getting the fitted sheet, this one with little ducks on it, on the crib mattress.

“Mom,” Sammy shouted out, “I’m having some trouble getting the sheet on. Little help?”

“Okay,” Samantha’s mother answered, “I’ll get the sheets ready. Would you mind keeping an eye on your brother so he doesn’t roll off the changing table?”

“Kaykay,” Sammy agreed as she came over to the changing table. Roxanne went over to finish the job Samantha had started.

“Hi Chris,” Sammy whispered as she looked him in the eye. “Sorry your diaper leaked. I remember one time when I was in Kindergarten when I wet the bed. It wasn’t very fun either. But Mommy and big sissy are here to make it all better.” Chris just looked her in the eye. A curious thing, children. They do talk down to other younger children, but not nearly as much as most adults.

Chris had after all been looking for someone to talk to, and Sammy seemed as good as anyone else. He let out a breath.

“Thank you, Sammy,” Chris whispered, a defeated smile coming to his lips. “You are a good sister, and I’m sorry that I haven’t been spending as much time with you and Bri as I should…could…” he edited himself, “…should,” he decided. “I’m just going through a really strange time in my life right now.”

“I love you too, Chris,” Sammy smiled as she kissed his forhead.

“Eh…close enough.” Chris said.

Sammy, reached under the changing table and held up a diaper. She examined it carefully as if she were translating ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics. She turned it around in her hands, unfolded it and folded it. Her face showed puzzlement, as if something wasn’t quite adding up, or if she were pondering something extremely perplexing. “I wonder,” she muttered to herself before letting the thought drop and placing the diaper back. Holy crap! Was she starting to realize that those weren’t normal sized baby diapers?

“Bed’s all ready,” a tired Roxanne said walking back over to her daughter and infantilized step-son. “Thanks for your help, honey, I really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” Sammy replied. “I like helping out.”

“You certainly have been more interested in helping out with him, lately,” Roxanne noticed with a hint of suspicion in her tone. “Any reason?” Sammy shook her head.

“No reason,” Sammy said, “I’ve just been thinking more and more about babies and taking care of them.” A look of concern crossed her mother’s face.

“Sammy,” Roxanne began, “do you and I need to have a talk…about…womanhood?”

“Hmmm?” Sammy took her eyes off of Chris, her eyes widening as what was being asked hit home, “What?! Noooooooo! Nonononono! No….definitely not.” She was shaking her head emphatically. “I don’t even like boys yet,” she added hastily, “I haven’t even had my first period yet.”

“Did NOT need to know that kind of information!” Chris interjected. “Like, AT ALL!” Naturally, the others ignored them.

“I just like taking care of babies,” Sammy continued, “like maybe that’s what I wanna do when I grow up. Like own a daycare, or be a pediatrician, or a neonatal nurse, or teach pre-school or something.”

“Well that’s an idea,” Roxanne nodded approvingly, “though you still have plenty of time to make up your mind about what you’re going to do with your life.”

“I know,” Sammy said matter-of-factly. “But even if I didn’t, I’d still like taking care of Chris. He’s my baby brother, and he’s only going to be a baby once.”

“That’s what you think,” a now much calmer Chris muttered under his breath.

“Well, tell you what,” Roxanne proposed “the next time your father and I go out on a date, why don’t we give you a shot at being the baby sitter?”

“REALLY!” Samantha practically shrieked. Then she shrunk down a little, realizing how loud she was. “I mean, really?!”

“Why not?” Roxanne asked, “You and Bri already play with and feed him in his highchair. Besides, it’ll save us money on getting a sitter for you two.” Sammy covered her mouth to keep her from screaming and jumped up and down excitedly.

Chris groaned slightly at that thought. He hoped they didn’t go out on a date anytime soon.

“He doesn’t seem like he’s very tired anymore.” Sammy observed after her impromptu independence celebration ended.

“That’s probably because our talking is keeping him up.” Roxanne concluded, “So how about you go to bed, and I put Chris down and we discuss this further when the sun is up?”

“Kay kay!” Sammy agreed, running out of the nursery and back upstairs to what- for the moment- was her room. “Night mom. Night Chris. Love you!” She called out.

“G’night,” Roxanne called back before looking down at Chris, still on the changing table in nothing but a diaper. “Well, Mr.-Night-Owl, I happen to have just the thing to help little boys get back to sleep.” She picked Chris up off of the changing table and cradled him in her arms. She walked over to the rocking chair and sat down with him in it. She began rocking back and forth in a gentle swaying motion.

She pulled back the bathrobe she was wearing and exposed her breast to them. She brushed her nipple against his cheek and it quickly became hard and erect. Half-against his will and half against his shame, Chris latched on and began suckling.

The sweet, sweet milk began flowing into his mouth and he greedily drank it down. The warmth, the texture, even the flavor were perfect to his palette. Perhaps that had been altered too, but there wasn’t much point in worrying about it right now. Chris felt a warmth spread from inside his body spread outward, like a nice blanket.

Roxanne was humming a soft lullaby that Chris couldn’t quite pick out the melody to as she gently stroked his hair and rocked back and forth to the rhythm of her song. His eyes became heavy and his nursing started to slow as he began to doze off. Finally he stopped and began snoring.

Chris woke up slightly when he felt Roxanne stand up and walk across the room. He felt himself lowered, down into his crib. “I think we’ll just let you sleep in just a diaper for now,” Roxanne whispered. “Good night sleepyhead,” she cooed.

Chris yawned. “Good night momm-…Roxanne” he slurred back. Chris heard Roxanne’s quiet footsteps go out of the room, and his eyelids felt the light turn off right before the door squeaked closed.

Chris drifted for a few minutes, and although he was very relaxed, sleep wouldn’t claim him. A gurgling in his stomach and slight cramp told him what he had to do if he wanted to get this over with and finally achieve some semblance of peace.

With practiced routine that hadn’t actually been practiced in decades Chris, rolled over onto his stomach and gathered his knees up underneath him, sticking his butt into the air while his head was still groggily on the mattress below. Eyes still closed, he groped around the crib until he found Wubby and clutched the stuff animal close to his face.

Then he squeezed with his arms as he pushed with his insides with all of his might, grunting a little as he did so. Nothing. He did so again, and still nothing came out, but Chris could feel like there was something there. Then with one more mighty push, the damn broke loose.

He felt the first part of the movement come out of him and begin pushing against the back of his diaper. Then the warm mess began to spread out as more poop was pushed out successfully. The stuff coated his backside and Chris’s ears picked up the slight crinkle as the diaper expanded to make room for Chris’s load. It was kind of nice, actually, if you didn’t think about or didn’t care what the substance actually was. It kind of felt vaguely like what Chris imagined a mud bath would be like.

Like a pro, Christopher Cole IV, pre-med student, shit his diaper. “Alright you son of a bitch” Chris said to Wubby, still clutched in his grasp. “You win this round.”

As he drifted off the sleep, his rump still in the air, a little voice inside his head whispered “I know.”

**********

Chris woke up to the sound of his nursery door squeaking open. Quiet muffled footsteps entered his room. Chris was too tired to bother opening his eyes. The mess in the back of his diaper was still warm, so not much time could have passed.

He heard a slight sniffing, and felt his rump being lightly patted. Mommy…er..Roxanne must have heard him grunting and came in to check on him. Checking his diaper and finding it soiled, she would no doubt change him and then put him back to bed. Either way, Chris’s exhausted and frankly traumatized mind reasoned, maybe he could get another breast feed out of it. Roxanne still had at least one good tit left.

Chris braced himself to be picked up and carried to the changing table, but no hands grabbed him. He heard the footsteps walk towards where the changing table was located, so silent were the footsteps that if it weren’t for the absolute silence and stillness of the room, Chris wouldn’t have heard it. He then heard a slight crinkling of a diaper being handled and unfolded. Ah. So Roxanne would change him in his crib, so as not to wake him. Sound enough caregiving advice.

Chris expected to be nudged over onto his back, but said nudge never came. Instead the quiet footsteps tiptoed out of the room and the door squeaked ever so slightly as it was closed with care. Chris wondered dreamily, had Roxanne changed her mind?

“Whatever”, Chris muttered to himself as he stretched his legs out and laid on his belly. “I can wait till morning…assuming I’m still a baby in the morning.” With those last thoughts, Chris was finally claimed by sleep and left undisturbed till morning.