[BabyWeirdo]

I looked at the outfit laid out for me on the bed. He had given me only two minutes to put it on, but I didn’t know where to start. First was the diaper, a single sissy diaper with stuffers was laid next to clothes on the bed. Counting four stuffers, it was a tight squeeze to tape the diaper on.

I wobbled as I got up, this diaper was so thick, its waddle would be a nightmare to manage. Next I put on the socks, plain and white but with a little black bow on the top. They pulled up easily over my shaved skin to just below my knee cap.

Next I stepped in the petticoat, a large poofy tutu-like underskirt, and then pulled the summer dress over my head. It was white with countless little red spots dotted below the waist. The petticoat pushed out the bottom of the dress, making it look wider and more noticeable.

I was looking at myself in the mirror, this bizarre pet in a little-girl costume, when He came in smirking. With a brown felt tip pen He started tapping my nose, my cheeks, my jar. He was giving me freckles. I blushed, at the sight of myself, and kept blushing as He made my red cheeks an ever brighter red with a second felt tip.

“Good girl. Ready to go out?” I nodded insecurely. “You might want to get yourself a cheerleading magazine there as well.”

“A cheerleading magazine?”

“Uh-huh.”

I took a deep breath once the door was shut behind me. With money clutched in hand (dresses have no pockets!) I began to walk down the street to the shop on the corner of the road. I say walk. It was a waddle, a huge waddle, I could feel my waist and the rest of my body swinging round each way with each step.

A couple of teenage boys were walking behind me on the other side of the street. They saw me. I saw them giggling at my funny walk, when I next dared to glance at them I saw them imitating it. I felt the blood swell in my face and hurried my pace – but the faster I went the bigger a waddle I ended up doing.

I prayed they wouldn’t follow me into the shop.

They did. They saw the freckles and blush drawn on my cheeks. They saw my red face, the dress, my flat chest, the little bows on the front of the socks.

“What are you doing like that?”

“It’s a dare” I mumbled.

The tall one snapped a picture with their mobile.

“Delete that! Please delete that – “ I panicked.

“Meet us outside when you’re done and we’ll give you a chance to get it deleted.”

I hurriedly found the newspaper Sir had asked for and picked up the only magazine with cheerleaders on – Forever Cheer. It looked like it had been designed for eight year-olds. The cashier smirked at my appearance but I was too anxious to get outside and have the picture deleted to care about what any shop worker thought.

The teens were waiting for me outside. The taller one, the one with the picture on his phone, kept the image on his screen and pointing at me. The shorter one handed me a large chocolate bar and told me that if I wanted the picture deleted I had to put the chocolate down the back of my panties.

“I-I’m not wearing any panties.”

“What’s that?” I’m not sure if he was teasing me or genuinely couldn’t hear through my stammer. Not wanting to say it out loud, I pulled up my dress and petticoat and dress.

The two boys burst out in laughter. One grabbed a pen and wrote on the front – Sir later told me he’d written ‘Pissy baby’. When they finished laughing I was handed the chocolate bar.

“Go on.”

I couldn’t put it off any longer. I slipped the chocolate down the back of my diapers, between the stuffers and my bottom. It immediately began to melt in the contained heat down there, sticking into my crack. The teenage boys smirked at my grimace.

“Did you make a messy in your diapers?”

I was mortified.

“Say you’re a poopy baby.”

“I’m a poopy baby.” I said it as drily as I could. The taller boy deleted the picture and I sighed with relief. They each patted me on the bottom before leaving me to waddle home, smushing the chocolate even more against my skin.

The waddle home didn’t seem to take as long now that the worse was over. Sir was waiting for me by the front door and let me back in; He had seen the whole incident from His front yard but made me retell it to His beaming face.

I considered it when He asked whether it was worse than being in the box.

“Honestly Sir, it was incomparable. The box was terrifyingly gross. But this… It was mortifying.”