Dan's Dilemma Pt.2

After putting the bib on me, Uncle Mark started putting jars of baby food onto the counter, when suddenly there was a knock on the door. That’s when the realization hit me that I was stuck in a highchair, forced to sit there exposed to whoever came through the door. When the door opened, my sister walked in, clearly enjoying my predicament based on the grin on her face. I wonder what it feels like for her to see someone else in the position she often found herself in?

As Uncle Mark spooned the baby food into a bowl, he told me he would discuss clothes afterward, a thought that sent shivers down my spine. He took a large serving spoon from a drawer and began forcing heaps of mush down my throat. After a  few spoonfuls I realized I couldn’t keep up, he was pushing the spoon to my mouth before I had a chance to swallow the previous amount. I tried to put my hand up to slow him down, only for him to slap my hand away, forcing me to grip the side of the tray in desperation. By the time he finished feeding me I had food smeared around my mouth and dripping from my chin. He came back with a rag, wiping the food from my face, then produced 2 giant baby bottles, telling me that this wasn’t anywhere near over yet. 

When I finally finished embarrassingly suckling the 2 bottles down, Uncle Mark asked me why I had tried on my sister’s clothes and diapers. I told him the truth, that I wasn’t quite sure why, that I was curious about the diapers, then I wanted to know if the clothes actually covered them. To my surprise he responded with “Well did they hide the diapers?” I didn’t know what to say back, so I just told him that I thought they did. Turns out I had unintentionally put my foot into my mouth. He let me out of the highchair finally, and immediately asked me to show him. My stomach dropped at the realization that he wanted me to put my sister’s clothes back on in front of him, but after that experience in the highchair I knew saying no was not an option. I did as I was told and put them on, modeling them like he instructed all while he made comments about how cute I looked. 

My sister joined in, telling me she had a party dress I should try on, of course Uncle Mark agreed and asked her to go get it for me. The dress looked too frilly and childish on my sister but on me it was even shorter. Mark disappeared for a moment, then returned with a ribbon, tying my hair up with a bow on top. I was so embarrassed that I was confident tears were well on the way. To make things worse Uncle Mark was good with his words, everytime I tried to argue that I didn’t want this he always found a clever way to turn it around and make it sound like I did. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse Uncle Mark announced that my Dad should see and decide, with that he took my arm and dragged me home. 

My Dad just sat there looking at me, I wasn’t sure what he’d say considering he sent me over there in the first place. When my sister produced a pair of lace top anklet socks I was told to put them on. As soon as I got done my father reached a decision, saying “Since he seems to want all of this, he should, just no more hiding it behind closed doors”. I tried to argue but it didn’t do any good, Uncle Mark just took my arm and towed me back to his house. 

That night Uncle Mark made me stand in front of a floor length mirror for a whole hour looking at myself. By the time he finally let me rest and took off the clothes he remarked “I hope you got used to seeing yourself in diapers and dresses, cause you’ll be spending a lot of time in them”.

He added another diaper over the current one I had on before he got me settled in the crib, and made sure to give me another full bottle before locking the gate in place. When he returned for the empty bottle  he told me that he would be in to change me in the morning and that if I woke him up in the night I would be sorry. It took me a long time to get to sleep, and once I did I kept waking back up, until I had no choice but to finally flood my diapers. Part of me was actually happy to see Uncle Mark in the morning when he came in to change me. Once he got me out of the crib and onto the changing table he fastened a strap around my chest, followed by straps holding my wrists to the sides of the table. After taking off the diapers he raised my legs and held them up under my knees with his forearm. Suddenly I felt something poking in my butt, but with the straps I was helpless. All I could do was wiggle as he pushed something into my ass. Once he was done he quickly put my legs down and strapped on a clean diaper, followed by a pair of bright pink frilly plastic pants. 

I expected him to let me down off the table, but to my surprise he kept me strapped down and told me “You should relax here for a bit and find out what it’s really like to be in diapers, I’ll be back in a bit.” Then he walked out of the nursery, leaving me strapped to the changing table blissfully unaware of what was about to happen to me. 

When she returned she had several bottles in hand, almost as soon as she held one against my mouth I realized it wasn’t milk and was actually real baby formula. I hated the chalky taste, but when I turned my head away the nipple followed and wouldn’t come out of my mouth. The uncomfortable feeling in my belly told me I better not fight the bottle and instead focus on not messing my diaper. I finished the bottle and he left saying he’d be back in a minute. By the time he returned I could barely hold it in, fighting against endless waves of abdominal pain. I was so desperate that I promised I’d be good and wear my diapers and girl clothes if he’d let me use the toilet. When that didn’t work I tried to beg and plead to no avail as well. Uncle Mark just plopped a huge binky into my mouth and strapped it in place so I couldn’t spit it out. 

All I could do was lay there making meaningless noises as he stood watching me. When I finally gave up he told me that it was too late, that I was going to be a baby girl and that all of my decisions would be made for me including when I get changed and how I'm dressed. 

A few minutes later I had to finally give up the fight, bringing my knees up to my chest and allowing the relentless torrent of poop to explode into the seat of my diaper. At first it was such a needed relief and it felt good to let it go, then I discovered that if I put my legs back down I'd be sitting in it and spreading it around everywhere. When he returned and found out what I did he asked if I liked it, of course knowing I couldn’t respond if I tried. Uncle Mark leaned in close, staring me into my pleading eyes. 

“If you do as you're told and be a good girl I will allow you to mess in the potty, but if you’re a bad sissy then you’ll start finding yourself in poopy diapers again.”