*********

The trunk was opened back up and I was picked up and hauled in a similar fashion until being dumped onto some unknown floor.  After my bag was unzipped a pair of enormous hands reached in and pulled me out.

“Oh my,” I heard Ms. Johnson’s voice say.  As my eyes adjusted to the light, I discovered I was in the middle of the living room floor at my house, encircled by the sitting forms of Ms. Johnson, Ms. Adams, and Kyra, who were patiently watching my every movement.

“Part of the punishment?” Ms. Johnson added, referring to my hog-tied arms and legs and taped mouth.  “Too bad I missed it.”

“Yep, I could have done worse, but I didn’t want to spoil him for tonight.”  I looked up at her with a pathetic grimace, truly unable to imagine a more severe punishment than what she had delivered.

“Thanks for that, Amy,” Kyra told her judiciously.  But then her eyes met mine and I was struck by the sudden warmth and tenderness of her gaze.  “But it’s time for you to be untied now, Jimmy,” she whispered soothingly.  “Your punishment is over – forever.  You will never have to be punished again.”  What!!?  Did I hear her right???  Like my guardian angel, she reached down and removed my ropes as well as the tape covering my mouth.

She – She had freed me!  I hardly knew how to react to this complete reversal of fortunes.  I had resolved to think of her as Kyra, not Mommy, now that I remembered the countless evil deeds she had bestowed upon me.  I was convinced she was utterly heartless and incapable of true compassion.  But, as I gazed upon her, basking in her warm smile and loving eyes, all my doubts about her now seemed foolish and absurd – this was my mother, and she loved me.

In retrospect, it may have been my unbalanced emotional state getting the better of me, but at the time I was elated.  Once freed, I rushed up to her and threw my arms around her neck, telling her, “Thank you, Mommy!  Thank you, thank you!”

“Aww, you’re welcome, sweetie,” she replied warmly, wrapping her own arms around my frail body in a long embrace.  Afterwards, she gently guided my body into the crook of her arm and cradled me against her chest.  Wearing a soft pink t-shirt which draped loosely over her enormous bosom, her body felt wonderfully warm and soft as I nestled against her happily.  My miniature hand pawed greedily at the top of her breast, marveling at how impossibly soft it felt … Oh my God, she wasn’t wearing a bra.  As I lost myself in ecstasy I reflected that it was only an hour or two ago that I, fearing death, had thrown away all hope of comfort and happiness from another human being, yet here I was, overwhelmed with emotion as I clutched her tightly, never wanting to let go.

After a few sublime minutes, Mommy continued, “That’s right, Jimmy.  Very soon there will no longer be any need to discipline you, not after tonight.”

I gazed up into her eyes lovingly, trusting her completely yet still curious.  “What will happen tonight, Mommy?”

She flashed me another heartwarming smiles and said, “You’re about to find out, little one.  Becky, would bring your things over?  Now is the time.”  I had actually forgotten the other two were there, being so absorbed in Mommy’s presence.

With the aid of Ms. Adams, Ms. Johnson dragged over a huge box which was far taller than me.  I looked up in curiosity as she opened the box and dug around some inside.  “What first?” she asked.

“Let’s do the clothes first, since he’s already naked.”  I had even forgotten about that, and I felt more than slightly embarrassed when I realized I had been lying in Mommy’s arms with a hard-on in plain sight of Ms. Adams and Ms. Johnson.

But, as I saw what clothes were being pulled out of the box, I wondered if I wouldn’t rather remain naked instead of wearing them.  The first article of clothing that emerged was a tiny light blue shirt that said “Baby Boy” in big bubble letters across the front, followed by a matching pair of short fuzzy socks with cute little balls dangling from the top.  No doubt about it, they were baby clothes.

Mommy set me down on the carpet in front of her, and I immediately spun around and pleaded, “Mommy, no!  I don’t want those!”

“It’s OK, honey, they’ll look perfect on you.”

“B-But they’re BABY clothes!”

“Uh-huh!” she replied cheerfully, and though I tried to move away Mommy’s hands held me steady as Ms. Adams raised my arms over my head so that Ms. Johnson could lower the shirt over my body.  The sleeves were just a bit too short, but it was plenty wide enough for my tiny chest –actually, it was oversized.  Next, my feet were lifted one by one to put my socks on, and I looked down in horror at my ridiculous outfit, wondering what was going to cover my private parts …  I heard a rustling noise as Ms. Johnson picked up a clear plastic bag with a label on the front: Boys Small Diapers.  

My knees gave out from under me, but thanks to Mommy’s support I remained on my feet.  Ms. Johnson ripped the bag open and pulled out a white diaper then kneeled in front of me and handed it to Mommy, asking her, “Would you like to do the honors?”

“Sure.  Would you mind holding him down?  I have a feeling he might want to run.”  Damned right, I wanted to run.  I wanted to get the hell away from this whole nightmare.  The thought of it had jolted me from my temporary bliss.  But as I was transferred from one set of giant hands to another my only option was to yell and kick my legs in the air like –well, exactly like a baby.

“Hush,” Mommy said soothingly as my back was lowered to the ground with my legs facing her.  “This will only take a second, honey.”  She paid no heed to the harmless blows of my feet as I continued to kick my legs about as hard as I could, sliding the diaper under my bottom then fastening the Velcro straps around my waist.  “There, all done!” she said ecstatically.  “Oh, this is so much fun!”

I didn’t agree, and I told her so with more loud whining.  “Quiet down, Jimmy; you’re being too loud.”

“I know how to fix that,” Ms. Johnson announced.  “Here.”  She handed something to Mommy who quickly wrapped it around my head and stuck it in my mouth.  My mouth was forced open by a large rubbery object which penetrated past my teeth and rested on my tongue.  What the fuck is this thing?  Though the material of it was soft and fitted my mouth well enough, the idea of having this huge thing stuck in my mouth was incredibly unpleasant.  It wasn’t quite apple-sized to me, but perhaps the size of a small orange.  My hands shot up to my mouth and clawed at it but were unable to budge it a single inch, since it was strapped on much too tightly for my weak arms to contend with.

“I bought this online,” Ms. Johnson told Mommy.  “Most pacifiers don’t have a strap, but I found this one to prevent him from removing it when he shouldn’t.”  Seeing my futile struggles, she added, “And it seems to be working perfectly.”  It was a god-damned pacifier!  It’s used to keep babies from crying, but I’m not a baby, damn it!!  But the irony was completely lost on me as I broke out in a bout of uncontrolled sobbing nonetheless, despite the presence of the large rubber nipple in my mouth which was forcing my tongue to remain on the floor of my mouth and prevented any possibility of articulating.

“There, there,” Mommy soothed, reaching her hand under my back to lift me toward her.  But in a moment of wild despair I rolled my body off her hand and bolted for the door.  “Let him go,” Kyra said.  The three of them stood and casually walked after me, knowing I had nowhere to run.  Reaching the door, I could just barely touch the bottom of the handle by jumping, but after several futile efforts of failing to turn it I gave up and slammed my fists against the wall in frustration.  I was trapped.

But then, to my bewilderment, the door opened beside me.  I spun my head in amazement as I saw Mommy pushing the door open above me.  In my desperate state, I didn’t take the time to contemplate the meaning of this surprising gesture, instead dashing out the front door and running like a mad man – or rather, mad baby – across the driveway and down the sidewalk.

I didn’t look back; I simply ran as fast as I possibly could.  I managed to run past the two neighboring houses by the time my short legs grew weary and I was forced to slow my pace.  At least I was out of sight of my house, and if by some miracle they were letting me go I would soon be free.

“How far should we let him run?” I heard the unmistakable voice of Ms. Adams booming above my head.  I spun my head around in horror and saw that the three of them were literally right behind me, easily keeping up with my frantic dashing by maintaining a brisk but comfortable walking speed.  I hadn’t heard their loud feet behind me as I ran at top speed.

“Let’s let him go until he runs out of steam.  It’ll be good for him,” my mother replied calmly as I kept pumping my legs recklessly at full speed.  Though I of course knew it was useless, I felt compelled to keep going, to fight them to the bitter end.

Passing a row of hedges, I saw an opportunity and took it, darting sideways in an attempt to reach the tall bushes and use my small height as an advantage and try to escape.  But, anticipating my move, Ms. Adams’s huge arm instantly dropped down and forced me back to the middle of the sidewalk.  I was running short of breath even quicker than normal since I was unable to breathe through my mouth thanks to the pacifier, and after passing just two more houses my strength was utterly spent and I my legs took another few wobbly steps before giving way and sending me head first towards the pavement.

But instead of crashing I was suddenly floating through the air as Mommy’s arm wrapped around my chest and lifted me to her shoulder.  “OK, let’s head back,” she told them calmly, not winded in the slightest as I lay in her arms panting heavily through my nose.  As I was carried back, I was reminded of the basketball matches we had played, back when I was around her height.  As inconceivable as it was now to think of myself as anywhere near as tall as her, I remembered that even then my stamina was no match for her, and she almost matched me in strength even when I outweighed her.  But now that even her legs alone were far taller than me and she outweighed me ten-fold, her physical superiority over me was nearly inconceivable.  As I rested in her long arms, utterly exhausted from the pitifully short distance I had run, I marveled at her magnificent body and began to understand just how helpless and dependent I was now, literally the size of a baby.  But as she held me tightly, her bosom pressed against the length of my torso, I realized that being small had its benefits – the smaller I was, the bigger and more glorious her body would feel to me, and the more I could rely on her for even the most basic tasks.  Gradually, over the next few moments as she carried me, I began to think, wouldn’t it be so much easier to relinquish myself to her, to give her complete control of every facet of my life, every decision, every action.  It would be so wonderful, not having to worry about anything, knowing Mommy would take care of it all.

But, as we stepped back inside the house, I was reminded of the pacifier in my mouth and the diaper on my hips, and I knew that I couldn’t give in to this, not at the cost of what tiny speck of manhood I still had left.  Though I couldn’t speak – and I knew it would be useless to anyway – I kept at least a small flickering flame of resistance alive within me.

*Gggrrhllhh*  My stomach rumbled loudly in an urgent reminder of my need to eat.  It was more than loud enough for all to hear.

“Uh-oh, is my wittle baby hungry?”  I nodded vigorously.  “That’s right, you haven’t eaten since this morning, have you?”  I shook my head no.  “Oh, I’m so sorry, baby!  Mommy won’t let that happen ever again, I promise.  Becky, did you bring anything for him?”

“I sure did.”  She fished out several small jars with variously colored contents.  As Mommy sat on the couch and Ms. Johnson brought them over to us, I saw that they were jars of Gerber baby food.  It appeared that my days of eating real food were at an end.

I was too starved to complain, though, and as that detestable pacifier was pulled off my mouth I eagerly awaited my dinner.  “Oh, here’s a bib, too,” Ms. Johnson offered, and it was quickly fastened around my neck.

Mommy removed my pacifier, dipped a spoon into the jar and brought a serving of green mush up to my mouth.  “Open wide!” she told me, very excited at this whole baby situation.  I did as she asked but almost gagged as I tasted the nasty goop.  It was pureed green beans with apparently no flavoring added.  God damn, was this what babies were forced to eat?  No wonder they refused their food so often.  Well, I acted no differently as I turned my head aside and closed my mouth, saying, “Nuh-uh,” in a show of disgust.  This caused what was left of the spoonful to smear across my cheek and down onto my bib.

“Jiimmmy,” Mommy warned with a slight edge to her voice.  “You’re going to eat this or you’re getting nothing at all.”

“But Mommy!” I whined, looking up at her pleadingly.  I only received a stern glare in response, letting me know beyond a doubt that she would carry out her threat if needed.  I allowed her to wipe my face clean, and then I reluctantly opened my mouth as another nasty spoonful assaulted my taste buds.  I quickly gulped it down and prepared myself for the next ‘bite’, though that was a poor word choice since there was no chewing necessary.

I continued to be fed in this manner as I finished the green bean paste and moved on to the slightly better carrot paste and then finally to the far more agreeable applesauce.  I burped contentedly as this last jar was finished, receiving more than my fill from these three small jars of baby food.

Mommy, however, decided I wasn’t done yet.  “Would you mind filling that bottle for me?  There’s some whole milk on the counter; I set it out a while ago to let it warm.”

“Sure, Kyra,” Ms. Adams agreed.

I told my Mommy, “I’m full.”

“Hush, little baby.  Mommy knows best.”  She thanked Ms. Adams as she took the filled baby bottle and forced the rubber nipple into my mouth, squeezing it until the warm milk gushed into my mouth.  I tried to protest again, but my mumbled cries were quickly silenced as I was forced to swallow the liquid to avoid inhaling it into my lungs.

It just kept on coming, faster than I could swallow it, causing milk to dribble down my chin from time to time.  “Whoopsies!” she would call out, dabbing my chin with the bib and giving me a temporary reprieve until she was done and more liquid entered my mouth.  I was way beyond full at this point, and during one of the pauses I pushed the bottle out of my mouth and exclaimed, “I can’t take anymore; I’m going to burst!”

Mommy giggled and replied lightly, “Don’t be silly; this milk is good for you.”  As she effortlessly pushed my hands away and forced the bottle back into my mouth, she added, “Besides, you’re looking awfully scrawny for a baby.  I’m gonna have to fatten you up to make you more soft and cuddly, like a baby should be!”  I was horrified by this news but had no choice but to keeping sucking down the warm milk as it flowed endlessly into my mouth.  I never used to drink milk when I could help it, and when I did it was always skim milk, but despite being overstuffed with it I had to admit that this whole milk tasted surprisingly good.  Perhaps my palate had somehow changed; I had even started to get used to the baby food, especially liking how easy it was to swallow without having to take the effort to chew it.  And this milk was leaving me with a warm, fuzzy feeling as my digestive system became saturated with the thick, rich liquid.

My eyelids were already drooping by the time Mommy decided I had drank enough.  “Aww, wittle baby is tiwerd, isn’t he?” she cooed down at me while lovingly pressing the entire length of my body to her bosom.  I hardly had the strength to nod as my eyelids shut completely and I drifted off into a contented slumber just a few moments later, held in the most comfortable location imaginable, between Mommy’s arms and her breasts.

* * *

I had very pleasant dreams, filled with thoughts and images of Mommy soothing me and caressing me.  It all felt wonderful until my lower body was suddenly and inexplicably submerged in a running stream of warm water flowing like a river in the area of my groin.  I woke up in the dark to find that it was not a river but only a puddle: a large puddle of urine filling the inside of my diaper, the by-product of all that milk I was forced to drink.

Being wrenched from my pleasant dream by this rude and unpleasant awakening caused me to cry out and, yes, even burst into sobs.  Remembering my humiliating conversion to babyhood only made matters worse, and I was unable to quell my baby-like crying while trapped in some unknown, dark room.  I got to my feet and pawed around in the dark, feeling rows of thick, vertical bars surrounding me on all sides, stretching up higher than I could reach.  Where was I, and why was I trapped here, and, most of all, where was my Mommy?  I continued to bawl loudly.

It wasn’t long before I heard several sets of footsteps pounding up the stairs and saw the room flooded with light as the door was opened.  Mommy stepped inside first, followed by the two other goddesses who apparently had stuck around to chat with their best friend.  I looked around and discovered that I was in my own bedroom, but not in my bed.  The bars surrounding me were the bars of the crib, close enough together that I wouldn’t be able to slip between them, and too smooth and tall for me to have any chance of climbing out.

“What’s the matter, baby?” Mommy’s concerned voice asked as she bent down and lifted me out of the crib.  As she put her hand under me she felt the tell-tale sloshing of fluids.  “Uh-oh,” she said.  “Looks like someone needs his diaper changed!”  She wasn’t at all mad at my lack of bladder control; instead, she seemed quite eager to carry out this motherly task for her little baby for the first time.

I managed to regain control of my emotions – probably due to being in the comfort of Mommy’s arms –and was now able to protest, “Please, Mommy, you don’t have to do this for me; I can change my own diaper – I mean, I don’t even need a diaper!”

Ms. Johnson snorted and replied, “So the little baby just wet himself and he still doesn’t think he needs a diaper!”  All three of them, even Mommy, laughed heartily at this, and even I had to admit she had a point.  Of course, I wasn’t the one who poured all that milk into me, but still …

We got back to the living room and Mommy set me down on the carpet.  With a sly smile, she told me, “OK, James”—ironically emphasizing my ‘adult’ name –“if you think you’re such a big boy, then go ahead and change yourself.”  The three of them stood around me, crossing their arms haughtily as I reached down to prove to them that I could do such a simple task.  I grabbed the Velcro straps around my waist, pulled, and …

Nothing happened.  With both hands, I yanked on one strap at a time, but my Lilliputian muscles were no match for the strong bond of the Velcro, obviously designed to prevent such attempts from baby-sized arms.

Ms. Adams snorted derisively while Ms. Johnson chuckled and said, “Not such a big boy after all.  If I were you I’d teach him a lesson after you take his diaper off,” slapping one hand against the other to get her point across.  I gulped, but Mommy, being the good mother she was, instead sat down in front of me, put her hands on my arms, and said with concern and compassion, “It’s OK, Jimmy.  You’re too little to help yourself now, but Mommy’s here for you.  Just admit that you’re too weak to change your own diaper, and that you need Mommy’s help.”

I wouldn’t have expected to agree to this so readily, but when I heard my mother’s soothing voice and heard the wisdom of her words, I found myself nodding and telling her, “Y-You’re right, Mommy.  I need you to change my diaper.”  I didn’t even lower my head in shame as I saw her pleased reaction to my response.

“Good boy,” she soothed, but as she was reaching down she paused and added, “One more thing: I want you to agree that you do need a diaper now.”

My face drooped into a frown.  There was no way I was prepared to tell her that.  “Mommy, I don’t think–“

She covered my mouth gently with two fingers and said softly, “Shhh.  Just think about it, Jimmy.  The toilet is far too big for you now.  And dangerous – think how easy it would be for you to fall in!”

That, I had to admit, was an excellent point.  “Well … OK, I guess you’re right.  But why can’t you get me, like, a little potty trainer or something?”

Ms. Johnson interjected, “Aw, why even bother explaining it to him, he’s just a baby.”

Mommy turned her head and replied, “Because I want my little boy to understand why I’m making these changes.”

“He won’t understand a thing unless you literally beat it into him,” Ms. Johnson snorted, to which Ms. Adams nodded in agreement.

“No, you two, I’m never going to beat him again.  All he needs is Mommy’s love to help him understand.”  My heart almost melted as I heard my Mommy say this; what endless patience and love she had for me!  With my own initiative, I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around her neck appreciatively.  “See?” Mommy told them.

They were unconvinced.  “We’ll see,” Ms. Adams replied doubtfully.

Mommy drew me back and continued her explanation.  “That’s true, Jimmy, I could let you use a training potty, but what good would it do if you wet the bed in your sleep, like you did just now?”  Her logic seemed unassailable to me now, and I nodded.  Mommy added, “I would have to come in the next day and wash all your clothes and your sheets, and that would just be so much trouble for Mommy.  You wouldn’t want to put your mommy through that, would you?”  She blinked her eyes at me.

“No, I wouldn’t!” I exclaimed, mad at myself for ever considering causing my sweet Mommy trouble.  “I’m sorry, I was wrong … I do need a diaper.”  She pulled me in for a warm embrace, pressing my abdomen tightly into her bosom.

Ms. Adams snorted, “Yeah, right.  You can never trust a word he says.  He’s just saying that ‘cuz he knows you’ll make him wear it anyway.”

“That’s not true, Amy,” Mommy defended, still holding me against her.  “Jimmy’s a good boy now, and he’ll do whatever his mother thinks is best.  Right, Jimmy?”  She pulled me back and I nodded enthusiastically.  Ms. Adams was still unconvinced but just rolled her eyes silently.

“Now, Jimmy,” Mommy continued, “is there anything else you would like me to explain?”  I didn’t reply.  “Please, Jimmy, ask me anything.  Really.  I want you to understand.”

I hesitated at first but saw no threat in her eyes, only a genuine concern for my own peace of mind.  “Well … do I really need a crib?  Can’t I just stay in my normal bed?”

Mommy listened attentively as I told her my concern, and then with seriousness she replied, “I understand how you feel, but it’s for your own safety.  You’re so little now; can you imagine what might happen if you rolled the wrong way and fell out of bed?”

That thought instantly reminded me of the 2-story drop I faced that afternoon, and I shrugged as the thought of falling a few feet out of bed seemed like nothing in comparison.  “I don’t think I’ve ever fallen out of bed,” I defended.

Her eyebrows furrowed in concern as she replied, “But just the thought of something bad happening to you, in the middle of the night when I’m not around to protect you!  Oh, Jimmy, I wouldn’t be able to sleep, I’d be so worried!”

I was truly touched by her concern for my well-being.  “Oh, Mommy …” I sighed emotionally.  “… OK, you’re right.  I’ll sleep in the crib.”

Her face brightened in relief.  “Thank you, Jimmy.  Anything else I can explain?”

I appreciated how seriously she was taking my concerns, I really was.  I couldn’t remember her ever caring so much about how I felt, not even when I was a grown man and she was my daughter, so very long ago.  I had forgotten what it was like to be cared about by someone, and that more than anything was what opened me up to her now.

“Um, just a couple minor things …” I continued.  She nodded encouragingly.  “Well … I thought, if it’s OK with you, maybe I could drink skim milk?  And eat some real food, that I can chew?”

“Oh, Jimmy, that’s another safety concern.  With your throat so small, it wouldn’t take a very big piece of food for you to choke.  I would feel so much better if you stuck with the soft food.  Besides, I don’t want my little boy to have to work to eat; the new food will be much easier.  Give it a few days, and I’m sure you’ll love it.”  Again, she seemed to give a perfectly reasonable response.  I nodded in quite genuine agreement.  “Good.  And as for the whole milk, I apologize if you don’t like it – but that’s what you’re getting for now.”

“For now?  What about later?”

“You’ll see,” she replied simply.  But from her expression I trusted that she probably knew what was best for me anyway, so I didn’t press her further.

“OK, thank you, Mommy.”

“You’re welcome, honey.  I know all these changes must be hard on you, but they really are for the best.”  I nodded, agreeing with her completely.  “Is there anything else you’d like to ask, sweetie?”

She was so wonderful: the perfect mother, trying so hard to ease my mind as she helped me through these difficult changes in my life.  Overcome with emotion, I opened my arms and moved in for another sublime hug.  “Please, could you change my diaper now, Mommy?”

“Of course, baby,” she replied warmly, pulling me back and tenderly brushing a loose strand of hair out of my eyes.  “Just lay back and relax; Mommy will take care of everything.”  Wow.  She was even willing to clean up my bodily waste for me.  She DID love me.

I couldn’t help the diaper changing from turning into a sexual experience for me; despite all the urine that I knew was down there, as Mommy cleaned it off my private parts her gentle yet thorough touch sent wave after wave of pleasure through my nerves as she made sure to clean every last square inch of the affected areas.  I was slightly conscious of the other two women staring openly at my obvious arousal, but hell, there was no way I could un-arouse myself with Mommy’s touch, and I was frankly feeling too damn good to really care what they thought anyway.  And at least I managed to avoid coming in front of them; that might have been quite embarrassing, to come so quickly from such little attention, especially in front of my former crush, Amy –err, Ms. Adams.

As Mommy pulled out a clean diaper and was putting it on me, though, I had a thought that gave me pause: why did I need the pacifier?  What good could it serve other than to subvert my will and keep me from protesting things?  Well, surely Mommy had a perfectly good explanation, otherwise she would never do that to me.  But I did wonder what that explanation was.  I would ask her once she was done changing me.

When the time came, though, she whisked me up into her arms and announced, “Well, I think Jimmy has had enough excitement for one day.  I’m going to go put him to bed.  Wanna watch something when I get back?” she asked her friends.

“Sure, we’ll pick something out,” Ms. Adams replied.

But I knew I needed my question answered, otherwise it would bother me all night.  As Mommy started carrying me up the stairs, I asked her, “Can I ask another question first?  Why do I need the pacifier?”

She coolly replied, “That was enough questions for one night.  I’ll answer them in the morning.”

Uh-oh.  I abandoned that plan of attack and tried a different angle.  “Could I watch the movie with you?”  I hoped that would buy me enough time at some point to get my question answered.

“No, Jimmy.  You’re too young to watch grown-up shows.  And it’s already way past your bedtime.”

Suddenly cranky, I didn’t consider the repercussions of my actions as I blurted what was on my mind.  “Well, why do you have to treat me like a baby!”  Mommy stopped in mid-step, looking down at me in shock at my out-of-the-blue misbehavior.  But I had to press the issue; there was no turning back now.  “The only reasons you’ve given are for safety and practicality, but what possible reason could there be for you to put me to bed when I don’t want to and ban me from ‘adult’ things and treat me like an infant!  Huh?  How do you explain that!?”

I immediately regretted my outburst as I saw my mother’s face turn from sweet bliss to bitter disappointment and spite.  She barely held her emotions in check as she squinted her eyes viciously at me, making me genuinely fear her once again.  “You are SO ungrateful, Jimmy.  You’re an ungrateful little brat.  After I was infinitely patient with you and explained everything you asked, you go and shoot your mouth off like this!?  See, this is EXACTLY why I can’t let you behave however you want: this kind of awful behavior always results.”  She spun us around and marched back down the stairs.  Bending down and almost capsizing me, she plucked up the pacifier, stood back up, and yanked it over my head and secured it to my mouth.

“See, what did I tell you?” Ms. Adams said, shaking her head from across the room, having heard the entire conversation.  “He convinces you he’ll be good one minute, and then the next minute he’s the meanest little brat you’ve ever seen.”

Mommy sighed, saying, “I know, I know.”

Ms. Johnson chimed in, “I’d say now is the perfect time for that spanking …”

Mommy shook her head sadly and replied, “No, I promised him I wouldn’t do that anymore, and I’ll be good to my word.  I just have to believe that there’s still some good in him.”  She peered down at me confidently.

“Fat chance,” Ms. Johnson shot back but left it at that.  Meanwhile, my mother carried me to my crib, the pacifier filling my mouth and ending all possibility of dialogue.  Instead, I uselessly squirmed in her arms like a petulant child.

As she held me over my crib, she told me bitterly, “I’m through trying to talk sense into you, little boy.  I’ve seen actual two-year-olds better behaved than you.  And, despite what I said back there, I have half a mind to take their advice and go back to the old way of teaching you.  Although,” she added, lowering her voice ominously, “I think you’ll find that I won’t be nearly so lenient this time around.”  She dropped me from about three feet up onto the floor of my crib, although I wasn’t hurt thanks to the padding of the blankets.  Without saying another word, she wheeled around and stomped out, slamming the door and leaving me in dark silence.

After a while, the terror induced by her last threat more-or-less wore off, leaving nothing but a burning rage.  How could I have been so easily fooled?  Now that I wasn’t intoxicated by her presence, I saw through her lies.  The seed of doubt, which had started as a simple question about the need for a pacifier, had sprouted a whole network of disbelief and rejection of her guise of beneficence.  Everything she said was a lie … Well, I suppose her reasoning was sound enough as to why I needed a diaper, a crib, and baby food – I mean, I still disagreed with her but I suppose from her point of view they were necessary.  OK, fine.  That was practical.  But actually TREATING me like a baby was crossing the line.  She had NO right to do that.  I mean, what could I have possibly done to deserve it?

Whenever I was near her, she was able to cloud my mind with desire and emotion, blinding me to her true nature.  Only now, when she was out of sight, was I able to think straight.  But the cycle ends now – I swore to myself not to be led astray, to remember the truth no matter what happened tomorrow, the next day, or the day after that.  Never again.