Back to the Cradle – Chapter Eight
And so my uninterrupted existence as a six month old baby girl continued for nearly a year. A baby’s life may look singularly uneventful from the outside, but let me tell you that for me, it was anything but that, even taking into account the fact that the circumstances were shall we say, unusual. After a continuous 24 hours a day varied only by bottle feeding, excursions in my pram, being shown to friends and neighbours, having my nappy changed, baths and early nights in my cot, day in and day out, I soon realised that my immediate future was restricted to say the least. It took me several days of fruitless gurgling, wriggling, squirming, and incomprehensible protests to convince even Angela that this six month old helpless gurgling little baby was in fact a man who normally lived barely twenty miles away. And there was absolutely no chance of me breaking that spell. Nevertheless it was true, and after a few days I became almost used to living the life of a six month old baby. Let’s face it, all you have to do is accept the situation, and once you accept the humiliating routine, you’ll survive. Believe me, don’t fight it unless you want to be a six month old baby (or worse) indefinitely.
The one thing that kept me going through this twenty four hours a day of relentless humiliation was the thought of my eventual release. It went on and on and on in an interminable existence of living the existence of a six month old baby.
My life as baby Emily seemed to go on and on, but at long last, my patience was finally rewarded. One Wednesday afternoon, Angela and her father looked down at me in my pram and said the words I’d so longed to hear. ‘Well David’ he said, ‘My project is complete in every detail, so I think it’s time to restore you to your own body. I must say you’ve been a remarkably good subject. Sue says you adapted to your new body extremely well and accepted the situation with very little stress apart from a couple of tantrums that were only to be expected. So. How would you like to come back on Saturday and return to normal?’ My relief was unbounded and without thinking I tried to say ‘At last! Yes!’ which came out as an enthusiastic ‘Ubbblubble oo!’ They both fell about laughing, and Angela chuckled as she said ‘Yes, I think you’ve learned your lesson, and I must admit David, it will be nice to have you around again. I’ve quite missed you.’ It was settled then. Three more days of baby bottles and dirty nappies and I would be free again. I could hardly wait.
The following Saturday morning I was wheeled out in my pram for the last time over to Michael’s house and into his laboratory. Everything was prepared, and I soon found myself lying on the examination couch where my adventure had begun. Michael carefully attached the sensors to my head, and Sue held me gently in place. After a final check of my own body on the other couch Michael said ‘All right everyone, here we go.’ He flicked a couple of switches and then began to slowly turn a round knob. As soon as he began I could feel a rushing in my ears and a black wave of darkness enveloped me as I passed into unconsciousness.
As before, it seemed to be an instant before I began to come round again, and as I opened my eyes I could make out the fuzzy outline of the laboratory. For a moment I panicked as I tried unsuccessfully to focus my vision and said ‘I can’t see! Everything’s all hazy!’ Then I grunted with satisfaction. At least I could talk again. ‘Don’t worry David’ came the voice of Michael, ‘Your sight will clear in a few minutes. It’s just that your eye muscles have been out of action for a year. Don’t worry, it won’t be long.
Thanks to providence, he was right. My sight began to clear, and in a few minutes I could see normally. As everything came into focus I gave a sigh of relief as I looked over my shoulder, and then across at the other couch to see little Emily babbling and cooing in a thoroughly normal fashion.
Everything appeared to be back to normal, and I attempted to sit up, but my muscles were weakened after a year of inactivity. I sat up on one elbow for a moment, and then laid down again as Michael gently pushed me down. He told me not to worry, and that full movement would soon be restored, but it would take a week or two in bed and a period of strengthening exercise before my wasted muscles would regain their full strength. After a couple of hours of tests, Michael decided that I could be moved, and I was put into a wheelchair and pushed into the house, where I was transferred to a bed in a small bedroom on the ground floor.
First and foremost on my mind was food. After a year of being drip fed, my body was starving, but Michael insisted that I should start on some soup, and work up to solids gradually. I could see the sense in that, and didn’t object. And strangely enough, now that I had the chance to express my feelings about how I’d been treated, I found that I no longer wanted to. I was simply relieved to have been restored to my own body. I hadn’t been physically harmed, and to be quite honest, it had been an extraordinary experience. Michael was delighted with how well the experiment had gone, and asked me many questions as to how it had felt.
The days passed in an active regimen of exercise, and after a month or so my strength was fully restored, and I was ready to get back to work and prepare my story of the century, none the worse for my experience. As I began to get about more, I was able to participate in Michael’s programme, and a couple of months later, Angela and I underwent a mind swap. Now that was an interesting experience! But that’s another story.
The End of Back to the Cradle – Chapter Eight.
The story originally came from: https://www.dailydiapers.com/content/stories.html
If you want to read more stories about ABDL boys you can find a list here: Diaper Boys – Index