Be My Baby

Naked, you stand before her.

'Come to Mummy,' she coaxes. 'You called me and here I am. Take this step, why don't you?' She held out a pair of pretty white knickers towards you. 'These belong to you.'

You stare back, unable to tear your gaze away from her warm, motherly face. Two eyebrows plucked to feminine arches; two bright blue eyes fix you in a hypnotic stare.

'One tiny step,' she says softy, and beckons. 'Take my hand.'

You stare down at her long slender fingers and brightly painted nails. She waves the knickers ceremoniously like a flag in a gentle breeze. Their splendour takes your breath away. With a high waist to hug your baby hips and row upon row of sumptuous lace topped with delicate silk bows to make you pretty.

Your mouth dries and you begin to sweat.

'That's all it takes - for someone like you to join me,' her voice continues seductively, and her blue eyes grow wide. 'For you are special.'

'S... S... Special,' you whisper.

'Special,' she repeats. 'I knew that from the moment you first cried for Mummy. You had an overwhelming longing; an emptiness inside which you yearned to be filled. And I can help you. I can help you escape, I can dress you, I can make you pretty. That's what you really want, isn't it. You want to revisit your childhood. To dress as a baby. That's why you called.'

'Yes,' you say dreamily. 'That's why I called.' You finger the soft sensual lace on the knickers but refuse to take them from her outstretched hand.

'Adult life isn't for you,' she went on; flattering, insistent. 'Not for you the stress of everyday life, the strain of work, the pressure of impossible deadlines, the fear of strangers and everything grown up. Because you are like so many others. You're a gentle sissy, a knicker wearer. A lover of lace, bows and frills!' Her voice becomes hush and intimate. 'You deserve more. You could be a beautiful baby. I can help you. Take my hand, Step into these knickers and you'll see. Look they even have your name on them.'

You gaze at the beautiful embroidery and move a step closer.

'Oh, what a time you've had of it,' she sighs. 'No one understands. Lonely, always frightened. But the tables can be turned. If you just take my hand and step into these gorgeous knickers. You'll be amazed.'

You shuffle awkwardly from one foot to the other.

'You can look how you wish. A new-born in disposable nappies and a pink fluffy baby grow, a toddler in a pretty gingham dress ready for a walk in the park, an excited toddler dressed for a birthday party in a sumptuous silk dress with layers of netting underskirts... Anything. Imagine it.'

You nod your head mechanically.

She waggles a cuddly toy at you. 'Mr Flopsey Bunny wants a friend. Be his friend?'

You take the toy and hold it close to you.

'That's right darling. You can be the baby of your dreams,' she says soothingly. 'Any baby at all. You can wear anything, do anything. Simply take hold of my hand, step into these knickers and all your desires shall be yours.'

You swallow hard. Your heart beats furiously. If this kind lady is right, you will never be an adult again.

'And just think of the things you'll do,' she purrs enticingly. 'Chew on a teething ring, shake a rattle or suck on a bottle of warm milk. You'll be admired and doted on by so many. You'll be such a pretty thing, my pretty thing. You'll make me so proud, I can tell.'

You stare at her dreamily, tasting the milk, feeling the teet between your teeth, the lace round your legs.

'Think of the pretty things you will wear; tiny snow white camisole tops, swirling full circle skirts, shell pink party frocks, pretty pinafore sets, romper suits, tiny white socks and shiny patent sandals.' She sighs with enjoyment obviously relishing the thought of dressing you as her baby. 'Mittens, cardigans, T-shirts, silken knickers, cute dresses,' she continues her voice trailing off slowly.

You stare at her outstretched hand and the pretty knickers. You imagine how Adam and Eve where tempted by the apple. Like them its impossible to resist. Your arm moves slowly forwards, brushing against your smooth naked torso.

'Go on, come to Mummy,' she says, her voice like oil and honey. 'Take that step forwards. Reach out and take my hand, be a good baby. You know you want to. Mr Flopsey Bunny wants you to.'

Tears well up in your eyes. It's a tantalising offer yet you still hold back.

'Join me. Be my baby and you'll never be frightened again. Let me mother you. Take my hand and everything you dreamt of will be yours. Trust me.

You hesitate. Fearful of your desires.

'Have I let you down so far in your dreams?' she asked quietly.

You shake your head dreamily.

'Besides,' she adds, almost as an afterthought. 'I thought you wanted a Mummy. To be mothered. To be MY baby.'

Be my baby. The three words ring inside your head. Be my baby. You hold out your hand and raise a quivering toe. You step into the outstretched knickers.

With a screech of terrible laughter she grabs your wrist, her sharp manicured nails biting into your flesh.

'They all fall for it,' she cries triumphantly. 'All the men and women. Irrespective of their background or walk of life. Lawyers, computer programmers, accountants, factory workers, housewife's; they all think they're special. They all listen to me. They all follow my voice, their desires, their dreams... It's pathetic!' She roughly yanks the frilly panties up your smooth legs, the lace scratching your delicate skin.

But there is no return. The journeys begun. The sissy knickers tell it all as wave after wave of babyness flows through your body. You resist the urge to cry, to wet yourself to stretch out your arms for her support.

'But Mummy, you said I was special,' you cry as you stand before her trembling.

'Did I really?' she sneers. 'You little sissy fool. Did you honestly believe me. You are as insignificant as a new born. Your opinion counts for nothing. Absolutely nothing.' she says scornfully. 'Besides you can't even talk.' She jams a large dummy in your mouth and you involuntarily suck the rubber teet in a desperate attempt to draw comfort.

'You are nothing on your own. NOTHING!' she screeches. 'Do you hear me?'

'But why are you doing this?' you wail desperately. 'Why!'

'Because I'm your Mummy,' she cries out, and cackles wickedly. 'I like to see adults like you reduced to helpless babies. Like the others you need a firm hand. I can't stand a naughty, disrespectful baby. All my fine words and fancy promises count for nothing. It's not all silk and frills. You do as I say when I say.' She chuckles and a shiver runs down your spine. 'I seek out all those who yearn for their childhood. I lure them to my nursery. AND I DRESS THEM AS PATHETIC SISSIES!'

She holds out a cream cotton dress invitingly. It's heavily decorated with tiny teddies, ornate white lace and silken red ribbon.

'One more tiny step and you will be truly mine,' she coos.

Powerless You wail like a baby and step nervously through its open back. She draws it up your legs, the built-in netting making you smile as it tickles you provocativily. The elasticated waist stretches comfortably around your tummy and the lace tickles your arms as you feed them through the puffed sleeves. She smiles triumphantly and zips you up tight. The soft cotton envelopes you and the circular skirt swirls around your thighs. You shudder as the clasp snaps shut like a jailer turning a cell door key and you feel helplessly trapped. And it triggers another reaction. Something strange happens. As if the dress possesses magical properties you feel dumb struck, defenceless, helpless and fragile. Years roll back as if in a time machine. A growing dependence on this woman called Mummy washes over you like cream poured over strawberries.

But Mummy is oblivious to these sensations as she spins you impatiently round and ties the red ribbon securely around your waist.

Bewildered, dizzy and slighty confused she easily pushes you backwards. You stumble onto the floor.

'That's where you're to remain.' She screams. 'Babies place.' She stoops, lifts your skirt and peers inquisitively amongst the netting. To your surprise she pulls your new knickers sharply to your knees. You're mystified but then realise what's required as she holds out a large disposable nappy. You press your feet onto the ground and lift your buttocks off the floor as Mummy slides the nappy under your bottom.

'I don't want you ruining this new pretty dress.' She says rubbing a sweet smelling cream around your groin. You gurgle contentedly as she sprinkles you liberally with talc as if dusting a cake with sugar. Satisfied she then fastens the sticky tabs over your tummy and pulls your white frilly knickers back up.

'We don't want baby catching cold either ... do we?' She smirks cruelly and effortlessly lifts your legs, feeding your toes into a pair of white ribbed tights. Soon they're stretched round your waist and you feel loved, safe, warm and dry.

'Now me a good quite baby while Mummy orders you some more clothes.'

She ties a cotton bib round your neck and swaps your dummy for a huge bottle of warm milk.

Your head spins as you suck at the sweet milk. Again and again you suck noisily at the teet. And all the while, Mummys cruel words echo round and round your head.

You are nothing. NOTHING!

Tears well in your eyes.

'It's not true,' you howl and look up at your new Mummy busy on her PC.

'Mummy buys you pretty things, pretty things, pretty things - all online,' she trills in a singalong way. 'You'll soon be such a pretty sissy no one will recognise you.' She chirps and as you gaze up at her seated on the sofa she taps noisily at her laptop and selects a huge array of pretty baby things for you to wear.

'There's so many lovely clothes here,' she chuckles, 'I should throw away your normal clothes and keep you permanently as my baby.'

Her very words send you into a dreamy state. You smile as you suck, one hand holding your bottle the other Mr Flopsey Bunny. Happy and content you lift your legs and waggle them to attract Mummys attention. It works and like an attentive mother she smiles down at you affectionately. And as she smiles you feel strangely sleepy. You screw your eyes shut.

'Mmm!' you gurgle. The nappy is warm, the tights comforting and the pretty dress soft and delightful. Everything is just as you imagined despite her abrupt manner.

Time just goes .... You open your eyes. Something's happened. You feel different, very different. Helpless, totally dependant on this strange woman you call Mummy. You slurp the last drop from the bottle, feel full and incredibly sleepy. Mummy covers you with a soft pink blanket and plants a wet kiss on your cheek. You go to kiss her in return but instead she pops your dummy back in your mouth. You sigh strangely content and quite inexplicably you relax and feel your nappy wetten. Warm urine trickles around your groin soaking into your nappy.

Then all of a sudden you really do wake. You look around mildly confused. Your in bed but gone is the sweet taste of milk, gone is the nappy, knickers, tights and that pretty dress. Disappointments hangs from your face like a cloud - but then you remember your dream. You remember Mummys enticing words. Be my baby. And everything becomes clear - the next step really is yours...

Treat yourself. Spend sometime looking through the lovely collection of baby dresses and knickers online. Let me know what you choose and how Mummy is to treat you ... Then and only then will your real dream begin...