Baby Georgie Goes Out For Lunch
by Prim
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It turned out to be a rather quiet day at Rotisserie Florence, but Rosalie didn't care: Elizabetta and Chandelle would see her husband in all his pink plastic glory and they were going to love it.
"Rosalie! Hi! Oh Chandelle, will you just look at him. Isn't he gorgeous in his close-fitting plastic bonnet. Ohhh, it's all white silk inside. I just love the way it clamps his face in elastic silk, like the gimp of a nun's bonnet in the old days." Elizabetta wore a cute black dress and amber beads, with a blue beret to accentuate her sharp features. She slid into the bench seat to be as close to Georgie's high chair as she could.
Rosalie laughed at her friend's delight. "His bonnet came with his dress, except I had the silk inside added to clamp him in babyishness all round his face. D'you like?"
"It's lovely, hon," said Chandelle, inserting herself on the baby husband's other side and sliding up close so that she could plant a kiss on what could still be seen of his face. She was wearing a new shift dress in lilac silk and a neat primrose pillbox hat. "Who's a wuverly, dar-ling, lickel babykins in oo's wuverly pinky baby bonnet den?" she cooed at him, and pressed more kisses on him so that he was smeared with lipstick.
Georgie Wuthers, the object of their amusement, felt his misery drawing tears to his eyes. Oh, that his wife's closest friends should see him this way - and the people in the restaurant, the waitresses. And if only Chandelle would keep her voice down.
The waitress brought a set of arm grips to fasten his hands to the sides of his tray, just in case Georgie thought he was going to feed himself. "Ahhh, is diddums helpless den?" cried Chandelle, checking both his mittens and finding his hands were useless to him. "Well den, Auntie Chandelle and Auntie Elizabetta will have to give oo ums bottles den, okay?" she kissed him again and inserted furtive fingers under the table to find Georgie's bare, unprotected thighs and the elastics of his rubber baby pants.
Rosalie, honey," said Elizabetta, getting his first bottle ready, "you're an angel for inviting us to join you for Georgie's first trip to the restaurant. What a fab idea to have him with us for one of our lunches. Isn't she an ice-pop, Chantelle? And your poor little hubby is so helpless in the middle of us as we make fun of him. Doesn't he look pathetic!"
Chantelle used an index finger to tickle the point of georgie's chin. "And he's all ours to play with - coochie-coochie-coo."
"Well," said Rosalie, unfolding his white vinyl feeding bib and handing it to Chantelle to put it round his neck and fasten it behind, "I love seeing you with him at home, so why not here too."
"Oh look," cried Chantelle, reading his bib: "Baby GiGi! What a little girlie-girl!"
Elizabetta shot pics of him on her phone as he was being put into his bib. Their baby started to cry, so she switched to video and got a sequence with him trying to turn away in his bonnet but with Chantelle turning him back and grinning alongside his face. She kissed him again and again on his nose leaving beautifully shaped lipstick kisses for their Facebook accounts.
"Oh my, Rosalie," she said, her hands working overtime under the table, "his cock is swelling 
inside his diaper. Maybe it's time for baby drinkies."
The waitress arrived on cue, bringing his bottles. She grinned at him in his close face-fitting bonnet, and laughed at his plastic Sissy Baby bib under his chin. "Excuse me, ladies," she said, "I can't help grinning at how helplessly you have got your sissy fastened into his chair between you all. He must feel so ashamed."
"Thank you, my dear," said Rosalie, and she held out her phone. "Can I ask you to do our group photo with our Baby GiGi?"
The helpful girl did more than that. She used all three phones to take group snaps, then to video Georgie crying bitterly as he was being fed his bottles of milk. And finally of his wetting his diapers beneath the table, with the tell-tale grimaces and grunts as he flooded his diaper and pants for all the women to enjoy.
"Rosalie honey," said Elizabetta, "this has got to be a regular baby lunch. What about every Wednesday, and women at Rotisserie Florence will soon start to be here every week to see him."
Needless to say, the girls agreed - and it made no difference at all that Baby GiGi didn't agree one bit.