The Art of Curtus
with storyette by Prim    

I Told You What to Expect

"B-But Mama, you can't do this to your son. I'm a man. Nearly twenty. This is too degrading. Too shameful."
"Hush. Lie still. You're going to stay in diapers for the rest of the week, and if you keep objecting, I'll make it a second week!"
"But Grandma will be here on Sunday. You can't let her see me in diapers. That would be so humiliating!"
"Yes, she'll see you. She'll want to change you, I expect. You've only got yourself to blame. Now, legs apart."
Fairleigh Locksly nearly had a fit. Plastic pants, the sort that opened out completely and had to be fed up between your legs, so that when the front and back were drawn up together, the ruched legs gripped round the thighs. He wailed at the pale pink plastic, with five pop fasteners up each side. His mother fastened him up one side, then pulled them tight over the big diaper to fasten each popper up the inside of the other leg. The tears broke down Fairleigh's cheeks. When his mother had made a decision, nothing he could say or do would make any difference. But she hadn't finished.
His silent tears burst into open whimpering. She had a little girl's blouse and held it for him to put his hands through. She drew it together behind him and fastened him up into it. He was sissified, and wept bitterly. Surely she wouldn't let Grandma see him like this. Next a pair of lacy socks. Then, oh my god, a bonnet in silky chiffon material, which gathered round him and fastened under his chin. "This is what happens to boys who bully girls, my boy," she declared. "Come with me. There are going to be changes."
She led him upstairs and into the spare bedroom. The boy shrank into half his former size with horror. A baby's cot, covered with a pink chiffon canopy, and filled with soft white ruffles and quilts. He stood immobilised with a weakness that seemed to go with being put into a diaper and plastic pants. His mother opened a drawer in the dressing table and took out an armful of shiny pink material. Then she unhooked the front of the cot and turned on him.
"Sissified bullies have to be buttoned up inside a baby snuggy at night. That means you." She let the folded, quilted material drop from her hands until it hung, half opened, for him to step into. Fairleigh was shaking as he did as he was told, and felt the cold, satiny bag surround him as the big pink buttons were done all the way up one side to his neck. His mother stepped him up to the cot, turned him, and laid him down in his pink baby-bag.
"I'm not going to be happy until you, my boy, have made all the proper apologies - to Kate and to her mother."
Her son froze with a new misery as the satin quilted hood of his baby bag was drawn out from under his shoulders, opened out round his hair, and gathered round his face, with draw ribbons at his throat to squeeze his miserable face into its ruched brim all round. Surely she can't be thinking of showing him in diapers and a blouse to that Kate Summerfield and her mother! The ribbons were fastened from the sides of his bag to the bars of his cot, at shoulders and feet. He was bagged up ridiculously and inescapably, and now he had a teddy bear and a stupid doll placed in his cot, and baby rattles. No wonder he cried and cried, in spite of his age. Then his mother was on the phone.
"I think I've got him ready, mother. Can you come round now and check I've got him as he should be, before I invite Sonja and her daughter round for his apologies."
Fairleigh Locksly's bawling became so loud that his mother had no option but to plug his mouth with the big pink diaper she'd got for him, with a pair of her panties wrapped round his neck to tie it in place."
There were only two possible outcomes of this baby treatment, his mother knew. Either he would repent in bitter sorrow and never be rude to a girl again, or the option her mother would have preferred, where he would have found he liked being fastened up in diapers and baby pants, with women gathering round him in his cot and quilted baby bag to coo and grin at his utter humiliation. His mother couldn't resist feeling the lump in the front of his pink satin bag, and smiled to herself at the clear indication of a tall, diapered erection deep inside.