Dear Helga,

I thought I would write again to tell you about a fun weekend recently. Even though it did not involve me directly, I instigated it, and it was beautifully managed by Steve's secretary, Jenny. I will write some - in particular the set up - but Steve - or babykins as he became - will be writing the rest himself. He enjoys so much writing to you about his adventures and then reading them in PDQ - actually, you and I both know how much he hates it, but it increases my entertainment, and hopefully your readers too.

It started a couple of weeks ago. I told Steve that on one particular Saturday I would be spending all day with Angie shopping for a wedding dress and generally doing girlie things. We didn't want him getting in our way, so I said that he was free to do what he liked all day, and that he could even wear trousers. What I didn't tell him was that I had a particular pair of trousers in mind.

The first thing he did was call up a couple of friends to arrange to meet to play golf on the day in question. His excitement grew as the week went on, as he had not been allowed to play golf for some time. Anyway, the Saturday arrived and whilst he was in the shower - he was actually singing he was so happy - I laid out his clothes. He expected to be wearing knickers, but the pink and blue striped jump suit came as a shock. "I can't play golf wearing this" he said. "Why ever not," I replied, "it is trousers". "Pink, though" he complained, "and definitely women's".

It made no difference to me. I made him put on a corset first and just as well. On went the jumpsuit which, when I zipped it up the back, was quite tight and figure fitting. The last item was the belt, which was a series of silver interlocked links, which I fastened with a padlock, thus meaning he could not take the jumpsuit off. He was right - there's no way he could go out wearing it without a bit more feminisation, which I wasn't going to do this time. He whined but I told him to quit complaining as if he continued I'd have made him wear his padlock shoes as well.

I left the house about ten, saying that I would be back later. As I left he was about to call his friends to cancel golf. I have no idea what excuse he gave, but he looked rather unhappy. I have no idea what he did all day, and I don't care. All I do know is that I did not return home until well after six that evening, and I had Jenny with me. Jenny had spent the day with Angie and me and as she lived well out of Plymouth in a small country village, I had offered her a bed for the night. When we got in Steve was in the kitchen looking very miserable - I was hoping that I knew the reason why, and I was right. I told him to get up and make us a drink if he knew what was good for him. I could tell he was reluctant - Jenny and I could both see why when he did eventually get up. There was a huge wet patch over his crutch and down his thighs at the front of the jumpsuit.

"What have you done, you dirty creature", I shouted at him. "I have wet myself," he said, very embarrassed to admit this in front of his secretary, "I couldn't take this suit off because of the padlocked belt and I got desperate and had to go at least three times". "Are you a baby all of a sudden who can't control himself, or a dog?" I queried. "No, I was just desperate. I couldn't take it off" he replied. "We'll see about that. If I can't leave you alone and trust you to use a toilet, then perhaps you need a babysitter and a nappy or a kennel outside in the garden".

"You can't mean it" he said looking desperate. "I do mean it. I don't want to risk you spoiling your pretty clothes because you can't control your toileting". Then - as pre-planned - Jenny spoke up. "I'd be happy to babysit for you Beccy, my Mum will help me too. We can have him over for a weekend, change his nappies, take him for walks in the country in a pushchair and all sorts. Mum even has a cot big enough for him to sleep in. I knew this because I had pre-planned it all. I had bought a large cot and pushchair, some lockable reins and some adult size baby clothes and nappies etc. "How about next weekend" she said, "you can bring him on Saturday and collect him on Sunday evening, if you like". So that trap was sprung and the date was set.

Steve had gone very quiet. But then he spoke up. "Surely you can't mean it? You can't want me to be so humiliated that my secretary and her mother are going to spend the weekend treating me like a baby?" "I do mean it, babykins" I said. "Either that or I shall set up a kennel in the garden for you to sleep in and you can be my dog. I shall still take you for walks in the park, but you will be on a lead. And the park here gets pretty busy with dog walkers. At least Jenny lives in the country, so you may not be seen - and certainly not by anyone you know". He knew when he was defeated. He definitely did not want to be a dog. Jenny and I agreed that I would take "babykins" to her mother's house at ten the following Saturday morning, and I would collect him sometime on Sunday if I had time. If not, Jenny would take him to work on Monday.

Babykins will now take up the story.

Mistress Rebecca woke me up early on Saturday morning. I showered but when I want into the bedroom to get dressed, there was only a pair of baby blue knickers to put on. After I put them on I went down stairs to ask Mistress what else I should wear. "Nothing babykins" she replied, "you won't need anymore clothes as Jenny has everything you need for the weekend". She gave me a plastic cup of milk to drink and then made me put on a coat and a pair of slippers.

We then went out to the car where I had to sit in the back whilst she drove an hour onto Dartmoor to the remote village where Jenny lives with her mother. Hardly a village really as all there was there was a handful of spread out cottages. Mistress found the right one and we got out of the car. I had to get down on all fours and knock on the door. A lady in her early forties who I assumed to be Jenny's mother answered the door. "You must be Rebecca, and this must be babykins" she said.

"I am, and you can call me Beccy" Mistress said. I had to go into the cottage on all fours, and stay on the floor whilst the ladies sat and talked. Eventually Mistress left but before she did she told me that I had better behave myself and do everything that Jenny and Karen told me to do. Once she left with the coat I had worn there I was stuck in just the knickers I was wearing, miles from anywhere.

Karen started by telling me that I was not allowed to talk at all over the next two days. If I needed anything I had to cry like the baby that I was. As babies cannot talk then I could not talk either. I would be fed with warm milk and juice from a bottle. I would be regularly checked to see if my nappy needed to be changed and I would be taken out for walks in my push chair. (I think you call them strollers in America?).

The first thing was to take me to the nursery to get me ready. I noticed that in the nursery there was a giant cot, the size of a normal bed, that I assumed I would be sleeping in. I noticed that not only did it have bars at the side but over the top as well and there were padlocks at each end. Jenny made me lay down on a towel on the floor. She took off my knickers so that I was naked. She rubbed cream onto my bottom, then put some baby powder on. Karen then held my legs up whilst Jenny put a toweling nappy on me and used proper nappy pins to do it up. Then over the top went a pair of plastic panties with elasticated legs to hold the nappy in. Over the top went a pink shirt and a baby blue romper suit with some lace around the short legs.

I suppose it could have been worse, but not much. I was so humiliated to be dressed as a baby in front of my young secretary and her mother, who I'd never even met before. Worse was to come as Karen sat on the sofa. She motioned for me to lay on the sofa with my head on her lap and my face facing her. She unfastened her blouse and took her bra off and told me it was time for my milk. I had to suck the nipple of a woman I didn't know for ages before she said I would need a top up. Jenny had warmed a bottle of milk, which Karen then fed to me, after which I was 'burped' followed by a dummy going in my mouth, and being put into a play pen with soft toys and dollies to play with. I was given juice to drink from a bottle and more milk. Eventually, I had to wee, I just couldn't help it.

I said to Jenny that my nappy was wet but she just ignored me. Karen came into the room so I told her, but she ignored me too. Eventually, I just had to wail like a baby. "Has babykins wet his nappy?" said Karen in a 'coochie-coo' kind of voice. She came over to the play pen, unfastened the poppers of the romper suit between my legs and felt inside my nappy. "Ooh yes, time for a change, babykins, you are very wet" she said.

So the whole rigmarole of earlier was repeated with Karen holding my legs in the air whilst Jenny changed my nappy, with cream and powder applied again. "Another bottle of milkie-wilkie then it's time for beddie-byes for afternoon snoozy-woozy for babykins" cooed Karen. "After that can we take babykins out for a walkie?" said Jenny. "Oh yes, that's a lovely idea, Jenny," said Karen. Oh no, that's a terrible idea I was thinking. Anyway, I was locked into the cot for my afternoon nap, not that I slept at all, after which I needed my nappy changing again as I was wet again. I am sure they were putting something in my juice to make me wee more.

They put a cardigan on me and a bonnet and I had to get into an adult sized pushchair for my walk, which I was locked into by a set of reins. They took me out along a long country lane, mercifully free of any other person, and then back to the cottage for more juice and yet another nappy change. Nothing much else happened on the first day apart from me having to be "breast fed" prior to having a bottle of milk. Later on I was bathed by the pair of them and then dressed in a nightshirt and a pair of pink plastic panties over my nappy. I was put to bed at about seven when it was still very light outside.

The following day followed much the same pattern as the first. The only difference was that when we went out for a walk, we met an elderly neighbour, who Karen chatted to for a long time. The neighbour did not seem to notice that I was an adult but said that it was nice to see a baby in the village. I can only think that her eyesight must have been very poor. When we reached a large field on the walk, I was unlocked and allowed out of the push chair. I was not allowed to go far though as some walking reins were attached over my chest and over and under my arms, and locked into place. The reins were only long enough for me to walk about a yard in front of Jenny who was holding them.

Soon after we returned to the cottage there was a knock at the door. It was Marion from work and she had Angie with her. They clearly know who I am but did not say anything except to ask how babykins was getting on, so they must have been told about what was happening. Angie was allowed to feed me my milk whilst they all chatted. Marion asked Karen if she would ever consider looking after little girl babies, to which Karen said that she preferred girl babies to boy babies. I hope that is not a future plan.

Mistress called about nine that evening. Jenny told her that babykins had already gone to beddie-byes so it would be better if she did not collect me that evening. I heard all of this as I was not asleep but everyone ignored my shouts from my nursery. The following morning, I was dressed as a baby again and taken to my house, where I was allowed to get ready for work, while Mistress Rebecca and Jenny chatted in the kitchen. Even though I have had to put up with a lot in the last couple of years, this was probably the most humiliating weekend of my life. I have begged Mistress to let me wear dresses from now on when she wants to embarrass me. Strangely, she asked me to put that in writing, so I have that I would rather have to wear pretty dresses that be a baby boy again.

Rebecca now continues - it was lovely having the weekend to myself doing what I wanted, when I wanted and how I wanted. I did catch up with Angie on Saturday. Jenny and her Mum seemed to have had a great time. Jenny said that both of them would jump at the chance of repeating it sometime. Karen in particular, liked the idea of looking after a baby girl next time... Steve will have his wish to wear pretty dresses, but not always in the way he expects.

Much love


We thank Rebecca for this delightful letter, sadly we have lost contact with her. Her skills of domination are second to none and her submissive husband endured a variety of training treatments including this prime example of diaper punishment, as an astute reader you will note that in the end, he begged to wear his pretty dresses. This treatment work wonders when strictly applied.


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Letter 5