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Summary: The story of a 15-year-old boy who is taken on a trip by his aunt, as a baby.
The Voyage (Le Voyage par B&sbquob&sbquo Pat, 1999) Translated from the French by Baby Morgan, 2001
We had already driven for 3 hours on the motorway. Outside the weather was cold and raining. It was just two of us; my aunt Erika who drove and me on the back seat. Actually, she was my cousin. But the difference in age, she was 32 and me 15, and especially the kind of rapport between us, meant that I called her my aunt. We were going to her friend who had invited us for a two-week visit.
Aunt Erika had assured me that 'aunt' Irmarg already knew a lot about me, that she was curious to see me, and very happy about our visit. My aunt Erika added, while smiling at me, that her friend above all, wanted to have a baby.
I did not have any reason to be surprised by her comment, as I was sitting in the back seat of the car with a thick diaper on my behind and between my legs and it was certainly not the first time that I had been diapered like a baby.
I was accustomed to wearing baby clothes, but what bothered me the most was to be presented thus to a woman I didn't know. Moreover, it was the first time that I had worn diapers during the day and that I would wear baby clothes in public.
Aunt Erika had hidden the manner in which I was to make the trip until that morning. Like each morning, after breakfast, she put me on the baby's potty to make poopies. At this point, I saw her lay out on the changing table the thick yellow diapers that she preferred to put me in at night. Then she took from the sideboard something I had never seen before that proved to be a narrow flannel diaper with snaps. In a pouch designed for this, she slipped two disposable diaper stuffers and placed the whole assembly on the yellow diaper.
These preparations left no doubt about what Aunt Erika had in mind for me. She turned towards me and asked: "Finished?"
I nodded my head and she lifted me from the potty, wiped me clean, and congratulated me, like one does a baby, for having done my business. Now she had no worry that I might mess my diaper during the trip.
"Well!" she announced. "Time to make you into a sweet baby. I think it is better that I put you into diapers for the long voyage!"
I had no grounds to protest, as I was already accustomed to being diapered by Aunt Erika. So, I sat down on the diaper spread out on the changing table without discussion.
My aunt slipped me into a baby style undershirt that was closed in the back by a cord around the neck and was covered with small colored flowers embroidered on the front. Next she laid me down and coated me thoroughly with cream and powder "so that I smelled like a sweet, clean baby." As she pulled the diaper between my legs she announced:
"Ah! Look how cute you are! It is really too bad to hide all that under diapers. Since I will have probably have to change you during the trip, I'm putting your plastic panties on you. She examined me once more and thought: "We will have to do without much more of his layette; the child is getting too big, and his normal pants won't fit otherwise!"
Once the diapers and plastic pants were secured, she tapped playfully on the thick bulge of diapers on my behind. She still decided to put me in a loose, long sleeve baby-blue onesie that would "keep me warm and hide my dydees." After buttoning the onesie between my legs, she looked at me contentedly: "Now you look adorable! It's not right that we have to hide this from the world. I would have preferred that everyone see you in the car and admire my big baby. Oh well - I am sure you will like aunt Irmgard.
After, I dressed in my normal clothing. The pants were naturally too tight. It so strongly compressed the diapers between my thighs that I could hardly walk, once standing. I felt awkward as my aunt hugged me close, kissed me on the cheek, and announced that her big baby is just learning how "to walk." The idea of walking in front of people terrified me, with the fear reminding me at every moment that I was diapered like a baby.
I was a little comforted when my aunt pushed me in front of a large mirror where I finally saw myself. While the pants bulged in the rear and between the legs, at first glance no one would suspect that I was a 15-year-old boy who still wore diapers and plastic pants. Even the onesie looked like a normal shirt, at least with my pants on.
"Even when your dydees are wet," my aunt joked, "they won't be more visible than now."
I was in a state of apprehension and anguish for the nearly three hours we had been on the road. Up until now, no one had seemed to notice anything, but for the last hour and a half, despite my desire to remain dry, my diapers were wet. Even as I thought about it, I felt more warmth spread itself through my diaper. I was anxious about what aunt Erika would say when she realized just how wet I was. When she turned her head towards me:
"Oh! I see by his face that my baby has made pee-pee in his didees! Where am I going to change you now?"
I did not know, naturally.
"Look there," as she pointed out a sign, "in about half an hour, we'll arrive at a rest area. We'll be able to eat and maybe find a place where we can change you into some nice clean diapers."
I didn't see how she could do that, but she seemed to have an idea. I was increasingly anxious, because as she parked the car in the lot of the rest area, half an hour later, changing me was of paramount urgency. Since we had three more hours of driving to go, and with the thought of spending that time in almost overflowing diapers, I made no objections when she instructed me to follow her.
She took the bag in which she had packed that morning all the supplies required to change my now soaked diapers. I followed meekly behind her into the interior of the building. I wondered how she was going to be able to change me discreetly in the middle of the crowds of people, when I found myself before a door bearing the description "Baby Changing Room". I felt like I had been nailed to the spot where I was standing, though my initial reaction was to run as fast as I could, but my aunt Erika held me tightly and announced innocently:
"This is exactly what need! It is perfectly equipped for changing the wet diapers of toddlers like you!" She added, comfortingly:
"Just in case someone is curious, I'll simply explain that you are sick. Come on!"
With those words she drew me towards the door. My first hope was that we would be alone, but unfortunately, that was not the case. A rather young woman was just beginning to change her one-year-old baby. She looked at us a little astonished, not seeing a little child. Erika wasn't worried. She moved towards the large changing table that occupied the long wall of the room, at the other end of which the other woman was changing her baby.
To remain as unobtrusive as possible, I obeyed instantly when my aunt told me to lay down on the vinyl- covered padded changing table. As if it were the most normal thing in the world, Aunt Erika began to undress me. The astonished woman watched with interest. Naturally, I was humiliated.
Even though the situation was humiliating for me, it all became clear as I turned my head saw the baby lying on the other end of the table. I realized that I was lying in front of Aunt Erika exactly as the baby was in front of his mother, and that I was going to be treated exactly like that baby who was having clean diapers pinned on.
Meanwhile, Aunt Erika had undressed me down to my onesie. She was obviously enjoying the situation. She leaned over me and with a smile, and with a whisper asked if she should give me my pacifier. Thank heavens she wasn't serious!
As Aunt Erika unsnapped the onesie, the woman finally turned and said: "My, you have quite a large baby to care for there." "Oh, yes!" replied my aunt, "My little boy is simply sick. While it isn't serious, the doctors haven't been able to help. He still wets himself easily, and there isn't much choice but to treat him like a baby."
"Are those real baby clothes you have for him? I did not know that they made a layette for such a large child!" said the woman as she looked from her baby to me.
As she spoke, my aunt continued with me. Now I was lying down, the onesie raised under my chin and the arms. I looked exactly like the other baby down to our diapers, though they were naturally of different sizes. The woman noted that I was missing only a pacifier to be a real baby like hers.
"Oh! You'll laugh!" my aunt answered, to my terror, "He often is a real baby who uses his paci. You know, when you have to put a big boy into diapers, it is not only practical to dress him in a layette, it such a pleasure that that I often give him a baby bottle."
"I believe it, and really understand!" said the woman as she looked at me gently. "When children leave their layette and their diapers, you've already half lost them. After my oldest left and was no longer close to me, I have often wished that I could still dress him as a baby."
During the discussion, Aunt Erika withdrew a clean flannel diaper, identical to the one I was wearing, from her bag. She quickly assembled it and lined it with two disposable diapers stuffers.
"Oh! That looks so soft!" said the woman who had approached. "It is also very practical." responded my aunt, " It stay warm and lasts longer than ordinary diapers."
She peeled off my dripping diaper and placed it to the side. "Eh! It was about time. You would not have lasted three more hours " Aunt Erika announced. She slipped the clean diapers under my bottom and snapped them firmly into place.
During this time, the woman finished with her baby, and we were both snapped at the same time back into out onesies. While the other baby was dressed in a thick bunting bag and a small bonnet, my Aunt again dressed me in my regular pants. She lifted me from the changing table, patted me on the bottom and commented on how I was now a clean and dry baby. I was thrilled that I had made it through the experience and was glad that I wouldn't have to stay in the changing room for much longer.
Aunt Erika repacked the diaper back, placed the wet diapers in a plastic bag and threw the used diaper stuffers into the trashcan.
The woman had also finished. She lifted her baby into her arms and together we left the dreadful room. Despite my embarrassment, I was happy to be back into clean and dry diapers.
Outside, my aunt and the woman separated amicably, wishing each other a good trip and happiness for their children. As we moved towards the restaurant, aunt Erika asked me whether it had been that unpleasant for me, and commented that the other woman had been nice and understanding with me.
At the restaurant we saw them one more time. She sat with her family two tables away and smiled at me from time to time in a friendly way. Each time she did, I scrunched down, conscious of the fact that I was outfitted exactly like the baby sitting on her knees. I'm sure that was exactly what she wanted. Naturally that embarrassed me, but at the same time I felt a strange excitement.
When we returned to the car, my aunt thought that would be a good idea for me to take a nap and told me to lie down on the back seat. Once I lay down, she suddenly put a bottle of milk in my hand, slipped the nipple into my mouth. Tired by the meal and by all the stress, I nursed without protesting... Once it was empty, I was so docile that, when aunt Erika exchanged the bottle for a pacifier, I continued to nurse. The fatigue and monotonous noise of the car transported me into a half sleep and my thoughts returned to when I first arrived at Aunt Erika's. I would have never dreamed then that, just eight weeks later, I would be lying on the back seat of a car, diapered like a baby, with a pacifier in my mouth.
Never would I have imagined that I would agree to a return to infancy or that I would find so much pleasure there.
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