Baby Buns' Dream... or is it a nightmare?

It’s early Friday evening, and the plane from California arrives on time. I’m eagerly awaiting you as I have the next week off work, as I have a sign to welcome your arrival, “WELCOME TO TENNESSEE, KITTEN!!” I’m nervous as you are spending the next seven days with me – I’ll have the weekend to recover – as I want you to not only have a good time with me, but that you would want to come back to visit.

As the passengers exit the plane, I look anxiously for you, looking at the picture you sent via your friend’s phone of what you look like currently. Suddenly, “BABY BUNS!! I’M OVER HERE!!” I gasp at hearing that name, but I turn around and there you are, smiling a wonderful smile. I run up to you and give you the biggest hug, spinning you around a few times, before I stop.

“How was your flight, Kitten?”

“It was good. I read the entire way. I can see why ***The Talisman*** is your favorite book.”

“I told you you’d like it. (pause) Did you know you sent a few Amazon packages to my address?”

“Yes, dear… I’m glad they arrived.”

“I didn’t look at them – after all, they’re addressed to you. I just put them in the second bedroom upstairs. Just took me by surprise, that’s all.”

“That’s not the only surprise I have in store for you, Baby Buns…”

*\*blushes\** “I thought we were going to start in a few days, not, like… immediately…I mean, we can, but you just got here, and I’m pretty hungry, as I’m sure you are.”

“Yes, that’s a good idea… we’ll put Hooters on the schedule for later this week…”

\*gulp\*

As we get to my car, I open the door for you, as you get in. I don’t have anything going on the car stereo, as we just talk, as you tell me all the different diner experiences you and your friends had, and I share my times with my friends Roy and Mike, as I tell you about the times we went bowling after I got home from school on Wednesday nights, and how they threw me in my front yard bush with snow on it, and pulled the branches down so snow would fall on my prone body on the grass.

After dinner, we both decide to do stuff the following day, as I came straight from work to pick you up, and I’m pretty tired, as you’re having jet lag, but you’re nowhere near as tired, since you’re two hours behind. We arrive at my apartment, and I show you around. I tell you that I skipped watching the baseball game the night before so I could clean up my apartment for your arrival. I take your suitcases upstairs into my bedroom, where you’d be staying. I chose to sleep downstairs, unless I’m invited to share the bed with you – I am a gentleman, plus I’m nervous as hell. You follow me, as I show you all the packages that came from Amazon. You chuckle and clap your hand. I offer you a drink, even though I’m not drinking. You agree that would be nice, and said I should go downstairs and fix it while you go through your Amazon packages to make sure everything is there.

As I wait for you to return, I turn on my laptop to check my email for possible job interviews, to go on Indeed, and check the Braves score. I hear you laugh a little, saying “perfect” and I ask if everything’s okay, and if you were coming back down. “Everything’s fine… *Baby Buns*…!! Gimme a few more minutes…” I gulp at the name. I hear some movement and some other noises, but I figure you’d just looking at the product. I hear you go back and forth between my bedroom and the spare bedroom, and then…

“Will you come upstairs, Jonathan? I’m in the bedroom.”

I’ve been trying all night to hide my obvious excitement over seeing you, and hearing you call me Baby Buns… oh *goodness*… I take a deep breath and climb up the stairs and meet you in my bedroom.

“I’ve decided we’re going to start **NOW**!” you say as I come in. “Where are your diapers and onesie at? Get them out.”

I freeze for a second or two – holy shit, this is REALLY happening!! I have a huge tent in my shorts now as I pull down the travel bag to retrieve my pink onesie and grab the bag of adult diapers. I put both on the dresser and look sheepishly at you.

“Strip, Baby Buns and lay on your back on the bed…”

“Ah... okay…”

I take off my clothes and I can’t hide my excitement anymore. Thank goodness you don’t laugh – every man’s nightmare. You pull out a diaper as I see you have already out baby oil and baby powder.

“Well, I can’t put you in a diaper with THAT in the way…I have an idea…!” I am frozen in fear. You go into your bag and pull out an interesting device. “This was in one of the packages – figured it would come in handy in times like this…*Baby Buns*…” It is a penis pump. Fully clothed, you climb into bed, sit on my chest, facing away and insert my member into the pump. Oh, my goodness….!! The suction and the vibrations… You laugh, and ask me if I’m feeling good.

“Yes… oh yes…”

“Yes what?”

Panting “Yes Kitten... oh yes... “

“Excuse me? What did you call me?”

“Uh… yes… *Mommy Kitten*…?!?”

“Good baby, Baby Buns…” The vibration gets turned up.

“Does Baby Buns need to make cummies for Mommy Kitten?”

Panting… “Yes... Please Mommy Kitten… Let me make cummies….”

“Let ***who*** make cummies…” You look back at me and smile. “Don’t blow your load if I haven’t given you permission, sissy… or you will be punished…”

“Please… Mommy Kitten…...!!! Please… can Baby Buns make cummies…!! Please...!!” Panting continues to increase along with the moaning.

You look back at me again, smiling, wiggling your ass in front of me. “Tell me when you’re making your cummies, Baby Buns…”

“Y-y-y-yes M-m-m-mommm-mmeeee K-k-k-kit-t-t-t-t-ten-ten. Mmmmm-m-m-making cummmmmmmmmeeeezzzzzzz!!” I explode in the device as you laugh, getting all my pent-up cum.

“Good, Baby Buns… now I can put you in your diapers…!!!” You get off me, but you kiss my cheek. “That’s *my* sissy…That’s right… *MY* sissy… *MY* sissy **BABY**…!”

You put the device on the dresser, rub baby oil around my groin region – mentioning that the pubic hair HAS TO GO. As I come down from my orgasmic release, I agree. Then a generous amount of baby powder is then applied and then, you slide my diaper under my bottom. You tap it in place, patting the front of my diaper, making me jump, as it’s still very sensitive. You pull out my onesie and look at the front – “Baby Buns!” you exclaim, cheerfully as you put it on me, snapping the snaps around my diaper in place.

“Now, let’s get you to bed…” You pull me off the bed and towards the spare bedroom. There, you have set up a crib… it’s pink. I hesitate, but you nudge me. “This is what you wanted, and there’s no backing out now, Baby Buns… This is where you’re going to sleep tonight….” You lower the rail and as you pat my diapered bottom, I climb in; once I’m in, you raise the bars back up. I can’t believe this is all happening… You dig underneath and suddenly you grab my left wrist and put a mitten on my hand. “Huh? What?” I try to get my right hand to free my left hand but you quickly grab my right hand and put a mitten on that one too. Both have bells attached, as well as a long pink ribbon. You pull the ribbon tight and tied both hands down. Then the same to the feet, as I’m spread eagle in this crib. You wrap another restraint around my waist to secure that to the crib as well. I’m totally immobilized. You leave and come back quickly, with something in one hand, and a big baby bottle in the other.

“Open.”

“Nuh-uh... Wait… what is that?”

“Don’t question Mommy Kitten, or you’ll be spanked… and worse… I said, **open**, Baby Buns!”

I shake my head no. Mistake.

You put the bottle down in my crib, you grab my cheekbones and force me to open my mouth. I fight, but you’re strong and you shove what appears to be six different tablets then quickly with the bottle.

“Drink! Or *else*…!”

I drink from the bottle. It tastes like milk but a bit weird. You hold the bottle for me to empty it, which I do.

“What was that, Mommy Kitten?” I ask, but there is no answer. Instead, a big pacifier with a big bulb is shoved into my mouth and strapped around my head. You pull out an air squeeze pump, attach it to the front shield of the pacifier and I feel the nipple increase in size within my mouth. You look down at me, your diapered sissy baby, all restrained, in his pink crib. You pull out a throw blanket and put it across me.

“We’re going to have fun, Baby Buns…” as you lean down and stroke my cheek. “Fun, indeed… now, I’m going to turn on this music, and you’re going to sleep. We have a *very* busy day tomorrow, my sissy baby…Now suck on your pacifier and go to sleep… Good night and sweet dreams….” You put a pink sleep eye mask which reads “Sissy Baby” and put it over my eyes. I’m blind as I suck on my pacifier. The music is instrumental – I was fearful it would be hypnosis, but at least for this evening, it’s just classical music. The lights go out, and the door is closed.

This is what I wanted, I think… I don’t know if… and then my stomach makes a whale sound… Uh oh…

I lay there in total darkness, my stomach rolling over and making loud noises, cramping up. Oh, this doesn’t look good, I think to myself, and you just left the room. I bite hard into the nipple as another cramp bolts through me. Plus, I feel my bladder begin to get heavy. I start to breath heavy as I know what’s about to eventually happen. Too soon! Too soon! I try to rub my butt across the crib mattress in hopes of trying to help me clinch my butt cheeks. A fart escapes. I am moving as much as I can, trying not to go in my diapers. Another fart. Another sharp cramp. Then, it starts… with loud noises as both the front and back of my diapers are filled, the backend feels like my stool has been liquified, as it spreads across the seat of my diapers. I try to raise up from the crib, but the chest restraint prevents this. My diaper feels like it’s beyond its max capacity already and the night has just begun. The music is soothing as I’m blindly suck on the pacifier, moaning, as the odor slaps me in the face. I groan as I thrash in the crib, though no good comes of it. A half hour goes by as the exhaustion of the day, working at the restaurant and waiting at the airport, catches up with me and I doze off, despite the bulkiness of my diapers. I doze but very lightly, but awake with a jerk, as another cramp rips through my stomach. A loud gurgle and almost without warning, another jet spray occurs, expanding the back end of my diapers even further than capacity, and the odor has gotten even worse. I’m pretty sure I’m leaking out now, as I feel moisture roll down my legs, a sickening feeling, on both sides. I doze a little more and another bladder cramp has me again gasping, panting; it’s bad enough to pee and poop in your diapers, but to leak? Another clinch of the teeth onto the pacifier’s bulb as urine pours into the already soaked and bloated diaper.

The night seems to go on forever. A few winks here and there, but the embarrassment of using my diapers for their intended purposes was bad enough, but to know, to know, that I leaked, from the both the front and the back… Suddenly the music stops and I hear your voice “Whew… smells like someone filled up their Pampers last night…? Who was it? Was it you, Baby Buns? Is it you that smells so bad?”

I nod my head “yes.”

You poke around my diapered area and squeezing the front. I jump in surprise. “Uh huh… it looks like someone made a big mess in their crib… I guess I’ll have to put you in thicker and multiple diapers from now on. We can’t have you messing up the carpet and the furniture… I have to start your baths and get you cleaned up before we have breakfast and do our errands.” You lean forward into the crib, face to face with me, while I’m still blindfolded. “You’re gonna ***hate*** what’s going to happen, but you’re also going to ***love*** it, my Baby Buns….” You bop me on the nose as you chuckle. Suddenly I feel pressure on the front of my diaper and something being duct taped to my leg. I start feeling a strong vibration, and its right on my penis. “Something to keep you occupied while I get things ready…” you laugh.

After a night of wetting and messing in my diapers, it doesn’t take much to get me aroused. My eyes are rolling to the back of my head, as I breath heavily through my nose. The stench is so very powerful, but the nerves around my groin area are highly sensitive. I moan. I try to arch my back, but that middle restraint…. My stomach gurgles. I’m about to cum and mess at the same time… By instinct, I try to close my legs, clinch my butt cheeks, but I have so many sensations going on all at once. I can’t control it any longer, as I explode almost simultaneously, whimpering into my pacifier. Oh, the odor, it only is getting worse. I’ve had to have a blowout. Then it dawns on me…

Baths… *Plural*… More than one…

The vibration doesn’t stop, though. It keeps going. My groin is super sensitive now, as I try to squirm away from it, mashing my poop more as a result. I’m whimpering, trying to get the vibrator off my dick, but there’s a reason you duct taped it to my leg and positioned it where you did. I’m almost in agony. I am thrashing in the crib, trying to find some escape, and the only thing happening is that I’m smearing feces all over my backside. I’m disgusted… and then surprised. My erection has returned somehow. Oh, but it is super sensitive and it’s driving me mad, the sensations quivering throughout my body, wave after wave. Again, I find myself arching my back as I’m to the point of another orgasm, and I slam my eyes shut, another wicked orgasm rips through me. I’m flopping like a fish out of water in the crib. I hear you start to clap “Great show!” you mock as you put your phone down– “my friends in California are going to love this! Now let’s get you cleaned up, okay? Today’s a ***BIG*** day, Baby Buns!”

You undo the ribbons, lower the bars and scoot my legs over to the side, making more of my waste spill out of my onesie and onto the plastic covered mattress. You unsnap the onesie, saying you’re going to put in the laundry when I’m in the bath, and then you see the bulge that is my one diaper. It is almost comical how full it is, both the front and back and you cover your mouth with your gloved hand to hide your laughter. You undo the three tapes and the smell hits the both of us immediately. Even in my blindfold, I clinch my eyes shut due to the odor. After a pause, you pull out the soiled diaper and I hear a plastic bag being opened and the diaper dropped. You get some wipes and start cleaning me off, remarking on how soon you’re going to make me suffer diaper rash, and that I have a good head start. My eyebrows raise up on my forehead as I moan into my pacifier. My mask and pacifier are removed, as I squint to cover my eyes, moving my jaw around, due to the massive bulb I had in my mouth. I see you smile, and you give me a wink. I smile back. “Are you ready to get cleaned up, Baby Buns?” I nod yes and you take me by the hand and lead me to the master bedroom bathroom.

This water has massive bubbles in it. You tell me to get in and I do, pausing to let my feet adjust to the water temperature. After I hit down, you grab a big cup you got from my kitchen and pour water over my head, repeating the process before you start to shampoo my hair. I try to help, but you smack my hands away. You rinse it off. You then get a sponge, pouring a generous amount of body wash onto the sponge and start wiping me down. I have to stand up where you can clean my nasty ass – even though you wiped it clean with wipes, it still felt dirty. You just hum along, cleaning me off. I ask what are our plans, but you simply keep on cleaning me off, ignoring me, humming “My Heart Will Go On” by Celine Dion. Soon, I’m clean by your standards. After I get out, you barely towel dry me and make me sit on the closed toilet seat lid. You get some of my hair mousse and run it through my hair, all of it moving upwards. You then put it like a big ponytail. “There!” you exclaim, and then grab my hand to take me back across the hall to the guest bathroom.

This water has no bubbles as I wonder what your plan is exactly. “Now, I’m going to let you use the toilet right now,” you say, “that way, there won’t be any accidents in the tub. Accidents ***YOU’LL*** be cleaning up, so take advantage of this now, Baby Buns. You’ll be in Pampers the rest of the day….” Even though you have put me in diapers and cleaned me up, I’m still a bit embarrassed to sit on the toilet in front of you and do my business. Which I do, as the previous evening’s supplements are continuing to do their job. You even look away while I’m using the bathroom, giving me at least some privacy.

“Into the tub you go, and be careful…” as I step into the water. I can already feel the difference between the first bath and this one. For one, the temperature of the water is much cooler, it almost tingled. “Sit!” and I obey, almost getting chilled. Now my body is tingling all over. Then I see some of my body hair floating to the surface and then even more. “What the…” I begin to ask and start to stand up, but you push me back down, the water to my neck. “You fight this, and I’ll dunk you, making you bald. I have permanent hair removal crème and you will be as bald as an infant. Wanna try me?”

“Oh shit…” I whisper as I look at you, knowing full well you’re serious.

“Now, I have to put this (the soiled onesie) in the washer. Don’t get up until I come back, or I will dunk you and use that cream. As for your language… you **will be** punished for that later, but for right now, soak in that water, and get your body, all nice and clean for Mommy Kitten.” You turn and chuckle as I hear you go down the stairs. I don’t dare move in the water, as more and more hair comes up to the surface. I wonder how far you’re going to take things as I shake my head. I’m very worried now, but in my head, I hear your voice “This **is** what ***you*** wanted…”

Soon, you are back and look at your watch, grinning, as I lay in the tub, losing all my body hair. You get out my shaving kit and you shave my face, removing my mustache and goatee, saying babies, especially sissy babies, don’t have facial hair. I allow you to do this, as you remind me how much easier it would be if you just dunked me into this special hair-removing water and held my head underwater for a few seconds. Once this is done, you tell me to get up out of the water and out of the tub. You tell me to unplug the tub and I do, as you don’t want to risk losing any of your own arm hair, and I do as I’m told.

You dry me off my now pristine hairless body and lead me back to my bedroom, telling me to lie down. You cover me in baby oil and baby powder without a word spoken. I try to say something, but you just playfully bop me on the nose, saying “Shhhh,” putting the pacifier back into my mouth, pumping it up, filling my mouth. You put me in one of my Walmart diapers, but that’s not all. I see another package of diapers, these are pink. You get two of these out and put those on me as well – “we don’t want any leaks while we’re out, do we?” You then get a pair of pink plastic pants and a pair of pink rubber pants and slide those up to my waist. Then another set of a pinkish clear set of plastic pants, only these are locking pants. Click – you grin as you show me the key already on a necklace. I just look on with wide eyes, truly afraid of what you have planned. You get a big pink bow and you clip it to my standing up ponytail, like Agnes in the **Despicable Me** animated films. You then pull up this rubber pink romper suit and tell me to step in. I do as my feet are covered up in plastic booties; you then tell me to stick out my arms and I do so. The end of the sleeves are plastic mittens, so my hands are useless. The zipper is in the back and you zip me up tight – click. You have locked me in this pink rubber suit as you add that key to your necklace, and you put on the necklace. On the front it reads “Sissy Baby” and I’m horrified. But you’re not finished with me yet. Out comes a pink collar, which has “Sissy” on the collar. You place that around my neck and hook me to a pink leash. I look on, eyes terrified and wide. “You look delicious!” you say, and tell me to come downstairs for breakfast, playfully pulling on my leash. “Be lucky I don’t make you crawl” you tell me as I go down the stairs.

I’m led to the kitchen where I see a high chair, pink in color. “Get in, Baby Buns.” You tell me and I do exactly that. As I sit, I suddenly feel my bladder get heavy once again. Straps go around my shoulders and chest to the back of the chair and my lap around the seat as you remove my pacifier. My hands are still free, which is odd. You hand over a big bottle of milk, saying that’s going to be my breakfast this morning, that you want me to have a big meal at lunch. I have to hold the bottle with both hands, with my hands encased in plastic mittens, watching you fix pancakes and have a glass of juice. You watch as I suck on the nipple, smiling. “You look perfect” as you get out your phone and take pictures of me drinking my bottle. My bladder lets go right as you tell me “say cheese!” You start to laugh, saying that couldn’t be more perfect. I finish the bottle and you lean me over to burp me, which I do let out a burp. As a guy, burps and farts are always going to be funny, but in this state that I’m in, I find no humor in it whatsoever. As I’m still strapped in my high chair, you leave and come back to the kitchen, with a makeup kit. “Gotta make my Baby Buns more pretty for the day…”  as you secure my hands, tying them down to my sides. The blush, the eye shadow, the bright red lipstick, with the corners pointed up, like I’m smiling. You show me myself in the mirror and despite the heavy use of blush, my face turns bright red.

After collecting your purse, you undo my high chair restraints and pull me with the leash gently. You grab my wallet and my car keys, telling me to drive where you tell me to drive, or I’ll be punished even more severely than I am already. I simply nod as you put my pacifier around my neck like a necklace, patting it on my rubber covered chest.

I keep my head down as I go to my car, hoping my neighbors doesn’t see me like this. Of course, I open your car door first and you notice that I’m trying to hurry up to get in my car to not be seen, so you take your time. Finally, you get it and I quickly go to the other side. “Blade Edge Tattoo, Tristel Street” you command me. I look at you before starting the engine.

“Uh huh. I’m branding you, Baby Buns…” you laugh.

“No, permanent marks are on my limit list, like no men. You know this, Kitten!!”

You look at me angrily “That’s ***MOMMY KITTEN*** to you, Baby Buns! And you just added to your punishment! NOW, Blade Edge Tattoo, Tristel Street!!”

“Mommy Kitten, no, I’m not doing this. That’s a limit.”

“Baby Buns? Listen to Mommy Kitten… Just this one thing…” You grab my padded right hand. “Please? You’ll love what I have in store for you…”

“I’m not getting a cage. No! No! No!”

“No cages, Baby Buns… unless you *want* one… Trust me. It’ll be something you will always remember about this week with Mommy Kitten and you being my Baby Buns… This is the only line I’m crossing. No blood. No men. No extreme pain. No guns or knives. No life threats. Please…?”

We sit in the parking lot, as I ponder it. “Shit!” I start the engine and start driving.

“Good sissy. Even though you’re going to be punished later…” You smirk.

We get to Blade Edge Tattoo and you tell the clerk we have an appointment with Lilith. People are staring at me, hiding their smirks with their hands. I breath heavily. This is such the wrong idea. How did I let her talk me into agreeing to this? Maybe it’ll be like Radar’s teddy bear tattoo – in ink – on **M\*A\*S\*H**. As I’m thinking this, we are taken to Lilith’s studio room, you pulling on my leash. There’s really no need, but it empowers you. The pressure on my bladder begins to shift inside me again; oh, please not now. You whisper to Lilith’s ear on what you want done; she snickers and agrees, as the payment is exchanged.

You take the pacifier necklace off and unlock the back of the romper suit. Lilith doesn’t hide her laughter when she sees me standing there in pink locking pants. “Where are you putting this tattoo, Mommy Kitten?” I ask, which you just smirk. Lilith laughs more… “*Mommy Kitten…* Oh wait until I tell my husband *this one*…” As you start to unlock the locking pants and slide them down, my bladder lets go and my diapers swell. As if I couldn’t be more embarrassed. “Good thing that bastard’s wearing diapers,” Lilith snickers “That sissy would be on his knees, licking up his piss if he wasn’t…” I breathe heavily. “Bend over,” you tell me as you pull my diapers down to my ankles. You go over to the front and handcuff my hands to the front of the bench. “This is to make sure you don’t mess up your artwork, Baby Buns…” You smile.

Lilith and you start chatting away as I hold my head in shame, as you tell her all the things we’ve done up to this point. You even whisper to her where we’re going next and what we’re buying. Lilith stops and has to gather herself, she’s laughing so hard. I’m blushing, wanting this to end. I feel the needles above my butt crack – great, a tramp stamp! – and on both butt cheeks. I hear you laughing, saying how cute everything looks, how perfect… after a few hours, Lilith is finished. You bring me a mirror so I can see what the tattoo says:

Above my butt crack, in pink cursive “Mommy Kitten’s Sissy Baby.”

On my ass itself, on one butt cheek it reads “Baby,” the other “Buns,” both in letter blocks, in different pastel colors.

After unhandcuffing me, you pull up my soaked diapers, with my plastic, rubber and locking pants, re-locking them in place. A squeeze to the front of my diapers “Yep, Baby Buns is good and wet. We’ll get you changed in a bit. Don’t you worry…”  On goes the romper suit and another pressure on my bladder. As you zip up the suit, my diapers are drenched again in my urine. Lilith just shakes her head, “what a pathetic sissy baby….” as I gasp, licking my lips. You give a generous tip and we leave.

I open your car door as you pat my tattooed bottom, still painful from the tattoo work. Another car pulls up and two women get out. They point and laugh at me as I stand there in my “sissy” plastic romper. You soon chuckle yourself as you buckle your seat belt in as I get on the other side. I’m trying so fast to get back into the car, I jump into the car, and I feel the squish of my urine-filled diapers, which adds to my humiliation. You hear the squish, and between chuckles, you promise you’ll change me before we go to lunch, we just have to make one stop beforehand.

“And where’s that?”

“Pleasure Palace. It’s just down the road.”

“Oh no…”

You snicker. “Remember, *you* wanted all this… and I’m going to give it to you… **BABY BUNS**…!!!”

As we pull into the parking lot, you tell me what we’re getting, and that I’m the one that’s going to ask for it, to add to my humiliation. If I don’t do it, there’ll be another purchase you’ll make and will do a demonstration in the parking lot, with my “*panties*” down...  You shake my keys in front of me, and I blush, sighing. “Then I’ll change you before we go out to lunch…”

We enter the store and I slowly approach the sales woman, glad that it is a female and not a male.

Her eyes look at my romper and smirks, “Can I help you folks?”

“Yes ma’am. As you can see, I’m a sissy baby, and my Mommy Kitten needs a big strap on to make sure I know I’m a sissy. Do you have one in stock?”

The sales associate cannot hold back her laughter anymore. She leads us to their display, and you pick the medium sized one, though it’s 10”. The largest one was 16” and I’m grateful you didn’t choose that one.

“Anything else?” the associate asks.

“Yes ma’am…” as I look down… “Do you have any hot lube? I mean… “\*swallows\* “like ghost pepper hot…? Mommy Kitten says I need to be punished…”

“No wonder… here we go.”

You say “Perfect!” After you pay for the purchases, you tip the associate an addition $10 to allow you to change my diapers in their employee restroom. She agrees and leads us to the back office where the supplies are stored.

The bathroom is small, but enough to get me onto the floor to change my very wet diapers. The third diaper is also damp, so you remark that I’ll need to wear FIVE thick diapers to make sure I don’t leak while at lunch. However, this time, you push three tablets up my butt. I grunt and look surprise, but you just snicker and put a single finger up to my mouth. “Shush sissy…” Once my romper is zipped up and locked back into place, you pat my bottom. “Halfway home, Baby Buns… then the fun *really* starts…”

We exit Pleasure Palace with my eyes down, trying not to look at people. As I feared, another guy comes in, and just bursts out laughing, calling me all kinds of names. “Don’t talk to my sissy baby like that!” You yell. “You may make him mess his Pampers!!” This only makes the dude laugh even harder as he enters the store. I want to simply die. I open your car door, and then go to my side. Before I start the car engine, you scold me for not thanking you for defending me. My face is burning red as you pull my face towards you and shove my pacifier into my mouth, strapping it around my head, buckling it very tight.

“Now we’re going to lunch. It’s on Tristel Street as well – Hooter’s….”

I look at you, big eyes, trying to talk.

“Hooters! Now drive, or I may have to spank you in the restaurant in front of all those waitresses!!”

I bite into the thick nipple of the pacifier, anger and shame flushing through me. I want to stop this now, but I’m trapped in this rubber suit and diapers… I can’t even undo the pacifier gag with my hands in this plastic mittens.

“DRIVE! NOW!” You command.

Another pause... “**NOW** BABY BUNS!!”

The engine starts and I drive to Hooter’s, hoping that it’s not busy, and that I don’t see anyone I know. We pull in the parking lot and you direct me to park farthest from the entrance, so that I would have to walk further to and from the restaurant, giving the chance that more people could gawk and laugh at your property.

I breath heavily as you ask for a table for two and whisper if special instructions could be made for today’s lunch. The hostess smirks and says that is definitely possible, and leads us to a table. Before you sit down, you pull out a bib and tie it around my neck. “I Love My Pampers” it reads. You also pull out a few jars of Gerber’s baby food along with a big baby bottle. The waitress, a gorgeous blonde name Cheryl, looks over at me, and says “Don’t you look *adorable*!!!” You ask Cheryl if she could put the jars of baby food all in one bowl, even if they’re not the same flavor. Cheryl chimes in “Sure. It all comes out the same, isn’t that right, sissy baby?!?”

“Say ‘yes’ Baby Buns… well, nod your head in agreement for Miz Cheryl…”

“Baby Buns?!? THAT’S HIS NAME?!? How PRECOUS!!!”

I slowly nod, sucking on my pacifier.

“He’s even got it tattooed on his bottom now…!!” You exclaim.

Cheryl bursts out laughing, doubling-over. She takes your order and grabs the jars of baby food, smirking “Baby Buns…!!” laughing.

You get on your phone while I sit there. I just look around, sucking on my pacifier, hoping that the food comes fast so you can get out of here before you wet, or worse, mess here. With that thought, my stomach makes a long, loud gurgling sound, so loud even you hear it over the generic music.

“Uh oh…. It looks like Baby Buns is going to make a **mess**….” You laugh. “I think Cheryl thinks you’re *cute*, Baby Buns… I think you’re cute too… and best of all…” You lean over to me. “You’re ***MINE***!” as you flash a huge smile, chuckling. I just look at you, horrified, as my insides continue to churn.

Cheryl comes back with your lunch and the bowl filled with the baby food you brought. She brought over a few of her server friends, Monica and Tabatha. Oh, they pinch my cheeks, ask you when the last time my diapers were changed, if I’ve been a bad boy or a bad girl. Monica pulls on my ponytail, laughing at how ridiculous I look. Cheryl says she wishes she could do this stuff to her boyfriend. I just try to absorb it, just try to get small. However, the whale inside my stomach decides to make itself known in front of these ladies; its loud and clear. You and all three servers just laugh, as Monica says “Someone’s about to make a stinky…!!” which brings more laughter. I just want to run and hide. Each server wants to pose with me, with Cheryl grabbing my leash, pulling on it where my head is on her breasts, as each takes a selfie with me. Another stomach rumble. “I think my Baby Buns is hungry… Plus I *know* that look he’s giving,” you snicker. You get out of your seat, and unlock my pacifier, then shifting your seat next to mine. You mix up the baby food even more, and with a big spoon full, “Open” and I do so without any fuss. While Monica and Cheryl have left, Tabatha watches in amazement, chuckling, before leaving.  Another big spoonful and another gulp down my throat. Another stomach rumbling. I know it’s getting close now… I do not want to mess in Hooter’s!!! You hear it too, and smile. “Good sissy. Here comes the airplane…” and I put my lips around the spoon. I’ve almost heaved a few times because of the awful taste, but you keep telling me to “open” which I do without any hesitation. Soon, the bowl is nearly empty. “Good sissy.” Cheryl comes back and compliments on how well I ate my lunch. “But Baby Buns, you didn’t finish… you have to lick the bowl clean!!” You burst out in laughter as Cheryl picks up the bowl and puts it in front of my face. “Lick or Aunt Cheryl is going to spank you!!” This was an unexpected but delightful turn of events! I obediently start licking the inside of the bowl. \*click\* Another picture made on your phone as Cheryl chuckles.

“I think Baby Buns should be spanked by Aunt Cheryl since he hesitated” chimed in Tabatha…

“I think you’re right, Tabatha…” you say. “I’ll tip you extra, since this is above and beyond…”

“No!” Cheryl goes, “This will be my pleasure!” She pulls a chair from an empty table, pulls on my leash to make me bend over her lap and starts spanking my plastic covered bottom. It doesn’t hurt at all, but the skin is still tender from the tattoos earlier. Also, the pressure on my gut over Cheryl’s knees… flatulence escapes me.

“How DARE you?!?” Cheryl spanking gets harder. You are laughing, tears streaming down your cheeks. This couldn’t have gone any better. Other servers gather around, as other customers are watching, some taking pictures.

Finally, Cheryl stops and puts me back in own chair. As soon as I sit, my body surrenders and my diapers are flooded with both pee and poop. I just sit there and let the mess and wetness spread. Cheryl picks up my pacifier, shoves it in my mouth, fastens it around my head.

“Now, you be quiet and let your mommy enjoy her lunch, you stinky sissy baby!!”

I am filled with embarrassment and slump down in my chair. Oh, you’re loving each moment, but the smell from me makes it difficult to eat. You decide that I need a change if we’re going to stay in the establishment. You stand up, grab my leash and go to the manager that you need a place where you can change your sissy baby. She points to the ladies’ room, saying she’ll stand guard to make sure no other woman comes in to watch “a pathetic sissy baby get his poopy diaper changed…” As we walk toward the bathroom, she gives my poopy bottom a swat.

The mess irritates the ink on my bottom from my tattoo. The sting gets worse when you use the wipes to clean me up. As if my humiliation couldn’t get any worse, Cheryl saw us walk into the ladies’ room and moves pass the manager standing guard. “If I were you, I’d put that messy diaper on his face so he knows what he did…” she says. You grin as my eyes grow large, pleading “no.” Cheryl laughs as the messy diaper plops on my face. The odor is intensified tenfold. I want this day to end. Cheryl takes pictures with her phone.

Now just double diapered, we head back to our table. I sit quietly as you finish your lunch. Other servers come up to see the sissy baby, one posting a video on her TikTok page. I just sit there, sucking on my pacifier, just watching you slowly eat, knowing I’m in torment. Finally, lunch is over. You tip Cheryl generously, and Cherly suggests her and some of her friends would love to babysit me if you needed to get away from a stinky sissy baby – you tell them you’ll be heading home to California soon. Cheryl asks if you had a baby shower, and you laugh, answering “no!” Cheryl then says before you leave, she’ll throw one for you, where I could be the guest of honor. “Wouldn’t that be nice, Baby Buns?” Cheryl asks me. I nod “yes!” “Perfect!” You and her exchange numbers and how much of a good time will be had. Cheryl said she will bring over a lot of her girlfriends who would love to witness seeing a man being totally destroyed.

You drag me out to the parking lot as I begin to wet and mess myself again. I just sigh heavily. As I open your door, you look at your phone, see what time it is, exclaiming it’s past my naptime and time to go home. I don’t even argue. I just want to leave and get out of this sweaty outfit.

“Let’s go home, Baby Buns… you’ve had a very busy day…”