Adult Baby FurriesJuly 16, 2020
Sissy Potty TrainingJuly 16, 2020
Hmm. Well, let’s see. Three months have passed since Sally and I got back from the Bahamas. I don’t remember when we actually got back because I was unconscious and in a coma. I had been feeling sick for a couple of days on vacation and then I collapsed one night as we walked on the beach. The next thing I remember I woke up in a hospital back here in Lancaster, PA. I spent a few days there and was released into Sally’s care.
Since then, I have been in and out of that hospital too many times. Sally spent every moment that she could with me at the hospital, even sleeping in an uncomfortable chair next to my bed, night after night. Every time I was released, she brought me back to her apartment. Not too long ago, she asked me to move in. So I guess it’s our apartment now. This most recent return home from the hospital had an added surprise waiting for me. I walked into our apartment to find that he had moved all of my stuff in. Bye bye Lime Street Apartment!
I decorate the place when I find the strength. Sally has been very good about allowing me to set things up as I want without complaining. I think her mother did a very good job of raising her. (Shh! Don’t tell her I said that!) But I gave her some input privileges, like in my nursery.
OMG! I’m sorry! I totally forgot to tell you about our little secret! Sally is my “Mommy” and I am her baby. She takes care of me as if I was a baby. She dresses me in all sorts of babyish clothing. Sometimes it’s just a little baby-t. Sometimes it’s a nightie, or maybe a onesie, but I dress in big boy clothes when we leave the apartment.
She almost always speaks to me like I’m a baby and she makes me feel so “little” with his words. Her voice is always soft and his tone is always calm. She never gets angry. She never yells and he always treats me well, Very well.
She took the guest room and transformed it into a nursery for me. Ohhh Let me tell you about this nursery.
It is heavily decorated in pink, which I have no problem with. There is a toy chest in one corner of the room with every toy I used to play with as a little girl. From My Little Pony to Rainbow Brite to Cabbage Patch Dolls to Care Bears to every girl’s favorite, Barbie, She-ra, Princess of Power action figure. She went out and bought them all for me!
I wish I could’ve gone along on that trip just so I could see her standing in line holding a bunch of little boy’s toys in her hands.
On all the walls are butterfly stickers in bright colors. They always make me think of the first day I met her. The topic of butterflies kept coming up in our discussions. I was really nervous about meeting her for the first time, and I told her I had the “butterflies” in my tummy. I also love clothing with butterflies on them.
There’s even a crib! It’s white and loaded with teddy bears and the pink crib sheets have Disney Princess prints on them! Every day after lunch, she makes me take a nap in that crib. Sleeping in a crib is one of the most relaxing things I have ever done. It’s so comfortable and everything is so soft, I love it. And when she puts me in it and tells me it’s nap time, I feel like a little baby.
I don’t know where to begin to tell you how much I crave feeling like a baby. It’s near the heart of our relationship to one another, right next to an honest, unyielding love I have for her. I am able to look at her with two sets of eyes.
The changing table in my nursery is right next to the crib. I find myself lying on that table quite often, looking up at her with the eyes of a little boy, dependent on her for life.
Next to the changing table is a closet with the cutest outfits that give me the baby feeling when I wear them. I still have my big boy clothing somewhere, I think. But I only ever wear them sometimes when we go out.
There is a bookshelf in the corner that Sally built herself. It has every possible book on it, I could want, from my cheesy adult romance novels to Dr. Seuss to Sesame Street. Oh! Not to be forgotten are my endless collection of coloring books and a really big basket of crayons. I will sit on the Disney rug in the middle of the room and color or I’ll color on the living room rug, but I’ve learned to put the crayons and coloring books away. It drives Sally crazy when I leave them laying all over the place.
The ceiling lights up with glow-in-the-dark stars, aligned as they appeared in the summer sky. Astronomy is a hobby of mine. Well, not really a hobby. I just like to look up at the stars and make picture out of them. But Sally will close the curtains and turn off the lights when it’s nap time. The ceiling stars light up and with the glow of a nightlight in the wall, I lay there and make pictures out of them.
A painting on the wall of a baby boy, lying on a leaf, surrounded by a beautiful forest is what I turn my attention to next before I fall asleep.
I remember when she first showed me that nursery. I was so touched by it all I could do was cry. The first night I slept in this apartment, I remember thinking to myself and wondering when she was going to ask her to marry her so I could live like this every day.
Well, she didn’t ask me to marry her on that night. And she didn’t ask me to marry her when we were in the Bahamas. He waited until he brought me home from the hospital. I felt horrible at that moment, not because he proposed to me, but because Sally and my father met one another in the hospital and had a fight. I was also feeling weak, and I was worried about what the future might hold with treating my disease. Needless to say, I wasn’t having happy thoughts on that day until she asked me to marry her.
The Mommy and Babyboy thing has been a journey for me. I know I’m submissive, but I have always wanted the kindest, gentlest Mommy to be in control of me, and you really don’t find a lot of girls like that. They may say it, but they really don’t mean it or they really don’t know what ‘Kind’ and ‘Gentle’ means. Even fewer would take the time to find out exactly what I’m looking for.
Sally isn’t perfect, but she has perfect intentions with me, and I can see those intentions in his heart, within his actions and in the sound of his words. It hasn’t been hard to listen to her. (I might even go so far as to say that it hasn’t been hard to ‘obey’ her, but when I say that it sounds ugly.) She isn’t power hungry. She simply has a dominant nature to her, and she makes me feel very ‘little’ because she is in charge. It’s never harsh, but it still affects me in a way I’ve never felt before.
That is what I love the most.
She also makes me wear a diaper all the time, which makes me feel even more ‘little’. Well, I guess I shouldn’t say that she ‘makes’ I wear it because I want to wear diapers just as much as she wants me to. And I guess I shouldn’t say that a diaper ‘makes’ me feel ‘little’. I don’t really need diapers to feel like her Babyboy, but it does add to a role which is becoming my natural personality, more and more, every day.
There are moments that Sally calls ‘bonding moments’. Some have to do with how she takes care of me, like how she bathes me, by hand, every day in the bathtub. Or how she compassionately deals with my depression. Or how she spoon feeds me a meal when I’m feeling too weak to do it myself. Or how she holds me when I’m feeling sad. Or how she listens to me when I just need to talk about how I’m feeling (and this one takes a lot out of her. Let’s face it: she’s a typical women who can only talk about emotions for so long.
But a lot of the ‘bonding moments’ center around my diaper. (Giggles) As silly as that sounds, it’s true. When I feel his hand on my bottom as she checks my diaper, I begin to feel little.
When I am lying on the changing table in my nursery or on the living room rug or on the couch or wherever she decides, and he changes my diaper, you better believe there is some bonding going on. I ‘need’ her, at that moment, to make me feel secure, to make me feel safe and to tell me she will take care of me. I guess she could tell me that any time and comfort me any time, and she certainly does, but when I am lying in front of her naked, vulnerable and helpless, I am in dire need of attention to my heart and my mind. She gives me that attention and I grow more and more attached to her because of it. What ‘bonds’ are our hearts.
Having the toys and the clothing and the nursery help me to feel like his BabyGirl, but wearing that diaper reminds me that I am his responsibility and I then know that I am the most important thing to her in the whole world.
Even more important than his Kansas City Chiefs making it to the World Series, but uhh ‘ football. That’s a complete entry in itself. I’ll save it for another time.
Sally just told me she is preparing my bath water and that I have to finish up what I’m writing. So let me end this entry by saying this, then it’s off to a bath and then bed for me:
I never forget to tell her I love her and I never forget to say thank you. But more importantly to me, I never forget to mean it when I say those things. It’s so easy to become selfish, especially when he caters to me all the time. I could take her for granted and lose her. I might not even realize that I’m taking her for granted. But just like everyone else, Sally only has one heart and its big, but when his heart becomes broken or when I believe I will always get what I want, that’s the moment this fairy tale might end for good.
I don’t ever want to find out if that’s the case. I love her too much to risk losing her to my thoughtlessness. So I’ll never take her for granted.