Mommy Lessons, Chapter 2 (Patreon)

Lesson Two: Expecting the Unexpected

“I’ll only be asking this question once,” Averie said. “Will you be following my rules?”

“Yes,” I answered.

“Very good. From now, until I say otherwise, you’re my baby. You won’t be speaking. If you need to get somewhere, you’ll be expected to crawl. If you need to use the bathroom - well, you won’t.”

“Y-yes,” I said.

“Ah, see? What did I just say about speaking?”

My hand rushed to cover my mouth.

“I won’t be making any exceptions for you, Daisy. Regardless of what you’ll one day be, right now you’re just a baby. If you absolutely must talk, you can try making some baby noises with your mouth instead.”

I blushed. I couldn’t even imagine doing such a thing.

“In fact, why don’t we practice now?”

“I...but…” I quickly slapped my hand onto my mouth again, realizing that I was speaking yet again.

“It’s not hard. Just...talk like a baby. And don’t give me some ‘goo goo ga ga,’ either. Let it be from your heart. Imagine you didn’t know any words but you needed to communicate with me. Let it be silly. Let it be real.”

My heart was thumping far faster than what I thought my poor rib cage could handle. This was just the first task and I already found myself struggling.

I opened my mouth, but I simply couldn’t make any noise at all. I didn’t know what she expected from me.

“I had your money, and now I have your time,” she said. “If you want to learn anything this weekend, I suggest you start thinking less and doing more. But...it’s your time. You do with it as you please.”

Sighing, I tried to regroup and focus. She was right - I was on a clock here and it’d be a shame if trying to work up the courage to do something as minor as this ended up costing me half a day of her gifted attention.

Her words repeated themselves in my mind. Less thinking, more doing. From the heart.

I opened my mouth again, this time letting out a series of silly noises. It was a chorus of strange babbling consonants and squeaks. “Gabba bla gloo boo…” I felt my cheeks burning as I blushed.

“There you go,” she cooed to me. She added, in a tone that was absolutely drenched in condescension: “You did such a good job, baby!”

The worst part? I had actually liked how I felt doing it. It felt primal and freeing. I wondered if this was how Neil felt when he dressed up.

“Your clothes will need to come off,” she said. “I’ll need to do it for you, of course. You’re far too small to be left in charge of getting dressed and undressed yourself.”

Neil had described something to me that he called “little space.” Perhaps it was a more widely used term, I never thought to look - but I imagined that it was a phenomenon that others with similar kinks had reached to. It was a headspace, he said, where he no longer had to try to feel little or infantile - he simply was. I didn’t believe him. It wasn’t that I thought such a thing was implausible, but I simply couldn’t grasp reaching a state of mind where my very identity seemed to have been regressed.

I hadn’t reached that state in this moment with Averie, but for the very first time I was beginning to see what that might feel like. With just her words and her condescending tone, she was stripping away layers of my ego. She was threatening - and likely would make good on those threats - to strip away the facets of adulthood I had taken for granted. I was already in a diaper, after all. I hadn’t seen that coming.

She motioned for me to stand, and when I did, she wasted no time in hoisting my sweater up from my body and over my head. I blushed as my tank top and bra were revealed to her. Still, I made no effort to stop her. Next, she unfastened my pants before pulling them and my panties down to the ground. She beckoned me to take a step forward, stepping out of my pants. I did so. She returned to my tank top, pulling it straight up and off of me.

“You’re wearing a B cup,” she said. “I worry that it might be a little large for you.”

I blushed. This was true.

“If I do anything to make you uncomfortable - truly uncomfortable - you’ll let me know, yes?”

I nodded.

She stood behind me and she unfastened the bra. It didn’t pop open so much as the back straps just sort of gently flopped to my sides. It was more humiliating than just having her see me naked. She slid it from my arms and let it drop to the floor. I was now standing in her living room, completely nude - save for my diaper.

“Is there really that much of a difference between you and an actual toddler?”

Another wave of shame rolled over me. I didn’t find it to be crippling or hurtful though. I’d hesitate to use the word “like,” but...the appeal of being humiliated wasn’t lost on me.

Her hands reached around my body from behind me and cupped my breasts. She gently squeezed them, feeling their shape in her hands. I felt judged. But I felt like I’d be content with her hands on my chest for the rest of the weekend too.

“You did a dreadful job of putting that diaper on yourself too.”

I wanted to protest - but I knew better than to talk. Besides, she knew the circumstances when she handed me the diaper and sent me off earlier.

“The sooner you use this one, the sooner we can get you into a new fresh diaper, yes? One that won’t look like it was applied in the dark while you fell down some stairs. But don’t worry - I’ll take care of that too.”

I blushed again. Did she really expect me to use the diaper? She had as much earlier, but I hadn’t thought about it until now. I certainly couldn’t hold it all weekend.

“The nursery is upstairs. Come now, Baby, I’ll show you.

She walked past me and toward the stairs in the foyer. Instinctively, I crossed my arms in front of my chest to conceal them a little as I began to step forward. She swung her body around to face me again, stopping me dead in my tracks.

“You have no modesty,” she said. “Put your arms down. And...were you just about to walk?”

“Oh...I just…”

She raised her eyebrows even further with my attempt to speak.

“On your hands and knees, child.”

I fell to my knees and then leaned forward so that my hands were on the ground, supporting my upper body. She walked around me again to my backside. With little warning, she wound up her arm and gave my diapered bottom a single swift strike with her open hand. The loud slap of her hand on the diaper reverberated throughout the entire house. It didn’t hurt, but it didn’t have to. I had once again been reminded of my place.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to make the same mistake again.

“I can’t hear you, Baby.”

My heart beat quickly as I tried to decipher what I was supposed to do here. I couldn’t talk...yet she was asking me to speak?

Oh, right.

I blushed as I spoke: “Mah sahway fah bah bah.” It was mostly nonsense, even if I kind of knew what I was trying to say.

“Very good, little girl. Look at you, using your baby words for Mommy.”

Fuck. Another pang of confusing pleasure, deep down in my gut. She was good.

“Let’s go upstairs now.”

I hadn’t crawled around on the ground since...I was a child? It had been a long time. It wasn’t the sort of thing one forgets how to do, but it was definitely the type of thing that one would overthink if they hadn’t done it in a longtime. I felt like an awkward lumbering elephant, slowly shifting my weight from side to side as I plodded forward. She stood behind me the entire time, no doubt just watching my diapered bottom waggle right in her face.

“Do you think you’ll be able to crawl up these stairs, Baby?”

I offered an affirmative “Gah” in response. It wasn’t hard. One step at a time, I propelled my body up to the next step with alternating knees and hands.

With every movement, I felt her eyes on me as she slowly followed. I wondered what she was thinking. I wondered how my experience so far compared to the experiences of her usual clientele. I imagined they were more ready and willing to just jump into this world. She probably didn’t need to say much of anything for them to be crawling about while babbling like an infant.

“Down the hallway to the left,” she said. “It’s the open door. You do know which side is left, yes honey?” She proceeded to step in front of me and point to the open door on the left. “It’s this one. This is left.”

How was this even effective? How did she make me blush with that? It wasn’t how I expected it to happen, but I couldn’t deny that I was learning. Was there a better way than immersion?

I knew to expect a nursery; I read all about it in Neil’s writing. He was...a fan, to put it mildly. He described it as a “utopia,” a place that seemed pulled directly out of every fantasy he ever had.

I had an idea of what it might look like. I hadn’t gotten this far without doing my due diligence in researching online what babies like my husband enjoyed. I had, admittedly, written off his description of her nursery as just a lack of experience. I didn’t think Averie ran anything short of fulfilling experience - but I could also see how a minimally decorated room and a few diapers would feel like reaching nirvana if you were a desperate and kinky man who had never visited a room like that before.

Imagine my face, then, when I crawled into the nursery myself for the first time. “Extravagant” felt like an understatement. It was an overwhelming rush for my senses. Four walls of pastel pink. Cutesy baby animal decals flowed from one wall to another, creating a sort of parade around the room. In one corner there was a large wooden crib, and in the opposite, a matching changing table, with storage underneath that seemed packed with assorted baby changing supplies. Three was an oversized highchair. Some sort of thickly padded harness that hung from the ceiling. Shelves upon shelves of diapers. What looked to be closet doors, likely holding even more things. There was even a small wooden box along the wall that seemed overflowing with baby toys.

If I was an adult baby, I’d be pretty happy with this too.

I wondered if, in my current state, I was an adult baby.

“Sit right there,” she said. “Let’s see if we can’t make you look more the part.”

With no indication it was coming, she slid something into my mouth. It took me a moment to realize it was a pacifier. I wasn’t sure what to do with it, other than to just hold it in my mouth. I bit at the rubber piece and ran my tongue around it. It was...cute. A fun detail. I couldn’t quite see what someone like Neil saw in it, but I couldn’t deny that it helped push me a little deeper into a headspace that was beginning to feel entirely new to me.

She unrolled a pair of cream colored socks and she slid one up each of my feet and ankles. They nearly came to my knees, and it was only when she finished putting them on me that I saw they had little cute kitten faces printed on the very top of them, just below where the sock ended and my knees began.

“Arms up, little girl.”

I did as I was told, putting my arms straight into the air. She carefully worked them through the holes of a white garment that she then pulled my head through, before easing it down my body. I looked down at it, but I couldn’t get a good feel for what it was. A shirt? It seemed a little awkwardly shaped to be a shirt.

“Now you’ll need to stand up, dumpling.”

Another surge of shameful excitement ran through me. Her rotating pet names had a way of catching me off guard. I stood up, and as I watched her pull the tight form-fitting garment past my belly and hips, I realized it was a onesie. She reached between my legs, pulling a piece from the back through them, before fastening it to the flap in the front. The tight onesie gripped my body and held my diaper snuggly against my body.

“It helps keep your diaper in place, Baby. Heaven forbid your diaper ends up sagging too much.”

I wanted to assure her that my diaper wouldn’t be sagging. But I couldn’t talk. And, come to think of it, I couldn’t use the bathroom either. So...maybe it could be?

“Arms up again, sweetie.”

I did so.

“Such a good little girl, following directions. Are you a good girl?”

I nodded. I didn’t even think about it - I just did it. And when she smiled, I felt good to be satisfying her.

She’s good.

Something else was being pulled over my head. It was a sleeveless dress, and as the hem of it fell as far as it would go, I realized that it just barely covered my diaper. It was a white dress, with a pattern of alternating red, pink and baby blue colored berries, while a large pink silk bow jutted out from the center of the dress.

“Now isn’t that just the most darling thing, Baby? Oh gosh. I could just eat you right up.”

I bashfully looked away from her. No part of her tone or mannerisms felt fake or like acting. If this wasn’t genuine, then she was even better at her job than I thought. At this moment, I felt like I was the most important thing in the world to her, and to my surprise, I didn’t want that feeling to go away.

She stood behind me and ran her fingers through my hair. Nobody had done this to me in years. I wished - I think I had even asked - for Neil to do this, though he never did. I was melting in her hands. After a few minutes of her slowly touching nearly every strand of my hair - even giving it the slightest of playful tugs every now and then - she parted my hair on either side of my face before binding off the divided sections. I had pigtails now.

“Unbelievable,” she said clutching her chest with both hands as she smiled at her handiwork. “Just an absolute doll. May I keep you? Would you like to be my little dolly?”

I giggled, burying my face in my hands.

“Now now, don’t be bashful. You should be very proud of how adorable you are. Many other babies would be very jealous of you.” She paused, then added in a slightly lower tone: “Many other babies would be jealous of how cute I think you are.”

She walked to a cabinet, near the well-stocked diaper shelf, and rummaged through some items there before returning.

Like an artist, she stood before me with a makeup palette in her left hand and a brush in her right. She firmly dabbed the brush into the makeup, aggressively coating it with a thick layer of powder, before bringing it to my face, dabbing the brush onto my cheeks. I saw the pink dust heading towards me, and I just knew that my cheeks were now coated in a permanent blush.

“Oh. Oh my,” she said, giggling herself. “I’ve really outdone myself this time. Are you sure that you want to be a mommy? With a look like this, you were positively made to be a baby.”

A funny thing happened. I don’t want to say that it was at exactly that moment - but it seemed close enough that it’d be hard not to assume that the way she fawned over my cute infantile appearance didn’t have anything to do with it. I suddenly “got” the pacifier. It just clicked. I didn’t have to just hold it in my mouth, or bite at it. I could simply suck on it. I liked it.

Fuck me, I thought. I liked everything.

“I want those diapers filled, missy. I’m giving you an hour.”

I wanted to ask her questions. Filled...with what? And what would happen in an hour?

“I’ve got a few small matters to attend to,” she said. She leaned forward, her buxom chest peeking from the top of her dress while her face came incredibly close to mine. “Can you be trusted to be a good little girl while I’m gone?”

I wasn’t even sure what sort of trouble I could get in if I wanted to. I slowly nodded, my pacifier sucking becoming more unconscious and automatic.

“I hope so. There’s toys in that chest over there, should you get bored. Then, when I come back, I’ll check your diaper and see if you need a change. And...if you don’t...well, we’ll have to fix that, won’t we?”

I nodded again.

“Good girl. You really wish to keep Mommy happy, don’t you?”

Not that she could tell anymore, with my cheeks all done-up as they were, but I felt my face just radiating embarrassment. At one point I had debated asking her what she wanted to be called. I would’ve called her by her name. Or Mistress. Madame, even. But Mommy? It felt like a lot. It also felt perfect.

“You work on that diaper of yours, Baby. I’ll be back in an hour.”

When she had walked out of the room, I grabbed the pacifier out of my mouth and held it at my side as I looked around the room again. I could see Neil in that crib. Or on that changing table. I could see him on the ground, playing with the toys.

I had this consistent worry - sometimes it was louder and stronger than other times - that I’d do all this work to please him and to show him that I loved him, only to realize that I hated doing it all. I feared that more than him just rejecting my efforts altogether. What if, at the end of the day, I just hated this?

I slid the pacifier back into my mouth.

A new worry was developing: What if I really was just better off being a baby?