Hotel Room

Neil stood outside the hotel room fumbling with the door pass. He slid it through the slot, but the light turned red and he eared a loud “error” sound. He tried again and got the same result.

A pat on his backside brought him to attention. “Having trouble there sweetie? Here, let me help you,” his girlfriend leaned over his shoulder, one hand still firmly on his behind, the other reaching around to grab his hand. She pushed his hand to the slot and brought it down, brining an instant green light and grinding noise. “See? Not too hard sweetie. Now, bring the bags in.”

It was a brief moment, and one a passerby might have ignored. However, it filled his stomach with excitement. Everything from the possessive hand on him and the condescending way she had taken over, to the slight mocking change in the tone of her voice left him eager for more.

She walked in ahead of him, leaving the bags for him to carry. He took a moment to watch her tall, curved body strut in front of him and her long blond hair sway behind her. He picked up the bags and walked in after her.

They had spent extra to rent the suite, and it was worth every penny. He stood in a large living room with a couch and television, and a bar at the far end. He followed her past the door to a bathroom with a wide open tub, and into a bed room with a king sized bed. The walls were painted a deep gold and red, and prints of famous paintings were hung around it.

“Put the bags on the bed,” she said. Not said. “Commanded” was the right word, and he obeyed immediately.

“Now, lets see if you’ve been a good boy, shall we?” she said.

His heart jumped. “What do you mean?”

She walked up close to him, put a hand around his back, and pulled him so that his face was inches from hers. Her second hand reached down to his belt buckle. “I mean I didn’t get to check yet if you obeyed this mornings instructions, or if you’ll be getting a spanking.”

Neil gulped. “I uhh…”

“Mhmmm,” she said. She undid his buckled and reached a hand into his pants. He gasped as she grabbed him. She rubbed her hand back and forth, feeling the smooth, silken feeling of the panties he’d been ordered to wear.

She smiled. “Hmmmm. Good girl,” she pecked him on the lips.

This was a game they played often. They had found each other online, and his submissively tendencies played exactly into her dominants ones. At her instruction, he had had let his hair grown long, and even dieted so that his slight framed could perfectly fit into the dresses, skirts and corsets she gave him.

She stepped back and, without a seconds care for his permission, pulled his pants down to show his ruffled red panties. “And isn’t that a pretty sight?” she said. He blushed and looked at down, but the stiff front of his panties removed any chance for him to claim he didn’t enjoy it. She reached down and flicked it, causing him to gasp. “I think we’ll have to do something about that, however. We can’t have you gunking up your pretty panties.”

He looked at the clock. “But, we’re supposed to be going to dinner…” he said, but couldn’t contain his growing excitement.

She chuckled. “I know, but we do have to get ready first anyway. We’re not going in the clothes we flew here in, are we?”

He shook his head.

“Good. Strip. To your panties.”

If his state of mind had allowed for any disobedience, he might have questioned why he was stripping while she was still fully dressed. However, after only a few words from her he felt that independent part of his mind slow fade away as his submissive side took over. He stripped down. Somehow, with his underwear he felt even more naked then he would have been bare.

“Good girl, little Nelly.” He blushed at the name she used for him when they played. “Now, open that bag,” she pointed.

He walked to the bag she indicated and opened it. He stood back in shock, his hands going to the front of his face.

“I took the liberty of repacking one of your bags. Hope you don’t mind,” she said.

“But…” he struggled.

“Don’t worry, you’re other bag still has your ‘normal’ clothes in it, if you prefer. IF you prefer.”

“I…”

The first thing he noticed when he opened the bag was the color pink. The second was the bright sheen of silk. It dawned on him that what he was looking at wasn’t what he had packed, but a small collection of the dresses and humiliating, feminine outfits she regularly dressed him in.

“Do you want to wear it?” she asked.

“We don’t have time,” he replied quickly.

“That’s now what I asked,” she said. She grabbed his hand and pulled it toward the dress. “Feel that silk? See the pretty colors? Don’t you want it on?”

“I…”

“Think of how pretty you’ll look in that dress. Look at how good it well feel on your skin. Do you want that, or do you want your ugly boy clothes?”

The words sent images hurtling through his mind. Himself in now countless outfits, panties, skirts, bows… his made up face blushing in the mirror as he sashayed his skirt, then stumbled in his heels towards her on the bed, dressed in black leather, holding a rod…

“I…”

“Isn’t this the perfect opportunity? Far from home, a city full of strangers. Not one will recognize you, and not one will remember the blushing girl in the pink dressed they passed, but I’m sure they all appreciate her pretty face. Don’t you want to look pretty for your mistress? Just a sweet little sissy for me?”

His stomach turned at the twisted, teasing tone of her voice. He had done it before. Walked around in skirts, praying no one recognized him. But those had been normal dresses, the kind a normal woman might wear. This… this was a costume, a sisified Lolita outfit people would stare at. He wished that didn’t make it all the more exciting. “Yes.”

She chuckled. She picked up the dress and a pair of long frilled stockings. She began rubbing them over his skin. The material was smooth and cold against him. She rubbed a hand through his hair, sending shivers down his spin. His mouth hung open. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“Yes!” he said louder.

“Yes what?”

“I want to wear the pretty dress.”

“Beg me.”

More images. The few times he went into public cross dressed. A few confused glances, others not even noticing, accepting him for how he dressed, as a shy, pretty girl…

“Please mistress. Please put me in the pretty dress. I don’t want to wear my boy clothes. Please mistress please mistress please mistress…”

his please became more and more desperate as his anticipation drew.

“Do you want to be my little sissy slave?”

“YES! Please make me your little sissy slave!” The humiliating words gasped out of his mouth. The entire world around him disappeared except for the sight of the comically feminine skirts and the feeling of her cruel hands rubbing and teasing him, and he wanted nothing more but to obey her, to humiliate himself for her pleasure.

“Good girl,” she said, and patted his bottom. “Now, on the bed.”

He would have asked why, but it didn’t occur to him to second guess. The fact he had no idea what she wanted or why she told him to lie down only added to the excitement of obeying her.

She reached into the bag and pulled something out. Like the rest of his clothes, it was pink and shone. Unlike it, it was square and crinkled with…

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Well, it would be a cliffhanger, except we’re on an ABDL forum, so…

LOL I actually made that as a joke in another forum

Diapers?" he said, his eyes going wide. There was no doubt that is what it was, from the childish rabbits printed on the front to the tapes that hung on the side, it was the most infantile thing he had ever seen sized for an adult.

She smiled. “Mhmm, like I said, we can’t have our sissy gunking up his pretty panties, can we?” she asked. She reached a hand down and grasped him hard.

“No ma’am.”

“And we both know you aren’t mature enough to control yourself, don’t we?” She looped a finger around the panties and began to pull it down.

“Yes ma’am. But…”

“Then we both know what needs to happen, don’t we?”

“But…” he gritted his teeth. He was still desperate to please her and feel her control, but this was a step they hadn’t discussed.

“Lift your bottom up,” she said, and smacked his thighs.

“I don’t know that I want diapers!”

“I didn’t say wear a diaper. I said lift your bottom up.”

“But…”

“Now!” She smacked him again.

Instinctively he obeyed, and she slid the pad of the diaper under him and sprinkled powder over it.

Then, instead of continuing further, she crawled onto the bed beside him. She again put her face an inch from his and glared down at him. At the same time, she reached at him and grabbed his bottom cheeks so hard he winced in pain.

“What did we say about this?”

“Wh…”

“WHAT DID WE SAY? Who does it belong to?”

“You!”

“Who owns your bottom?”

“Mistress does”

“And that means I can do what I want with it, right?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“That means I can dress it up however I want, right?”

“Yes ma’am!”

“And that means if I want to bend your butt over my lap and spanked it for hours on end, ignoring your begging, your pleas and your pathetic struggling until your screaming, then leaving you whining and crying like the sissy you are, I have the right to, correct?”

“Yes mistress!” Another terrifying thought, and another exciting one. Images of himself bawling as she spanked him for hours came in, and worse- the images of him at the next day trying to hide his discomfort as he sat on his sore, pantied bottom.

“And if I want to put something inside it, over and over, harder and harder, so that even after the spanking wears off, after you can’t sit for a week because of your aching butt cheeks, you find you still are uncomfortable because of your mistress’ toys, you can’t stop me, correct?”

“Yes ma’am!” More images, all real, of him trying not to react to the constant buzzing inside.

“And if I want to do that every day, morning and night, on and on, I can, correct?”

“Yes ma’am!”

“And do you get any say in this?”

“No ma’am!” Every word she said sent a tingle inside him. Part of him hated the threats, loathed the humiliation and pain it could bring him, but his desire wouldn’t let him argue.

“So if I decide that, in order to keep MY bottom safe” she spanked him hard, “I need to put it in diapers, I have the right to, and you can’t argue, correct?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Will you obey me from now on? Or should I do all those things for our entire trip?”

Pitifully, he nodded.

“Good. Lower your bottom.”

He obeyed. The second he hit the thick pad of the diaper, a new wave of feeling ran over him. He felt her pull it up between his legs and reached a level of humiliation he never hit before. This was a new level of sissifcation all together. The pad hung down heavy over him, and the feeling was almost enough to set him over the edge.

She smiled and rested a hand on the front of the diaper. “Now, do you want this diaper taped on?”

“YES!”

“Beg me.”

“Please ma’am! Please put me in diapers! Please I want to wear diapers.”

“As you wish,” she said. She reached down and taped the diaper snugly on.

She stood at the foot of the bed and pulled the long socks over his legs. He was more familiar with those, but in his new undergarment, the took on an entirely different feel. The embarrassment of their femininity was over powered by the childishness of their lace and the small bows that tied them at his knees.

She took his wrist and pulled him to his feet, then walked behind him. Long experience in their game told him that it wasn’t his right to turn and see what she was getting. His heart pounded in his chest as he waited for the rest.

She returned with a familiar items- a corset, made to fit tightly over him and squeeze him into the proper shape for his dresses, toped with a padded bra.

“Arms up diaper girl,” she said, and he obeyed. She never called him “diaper girl” before, and he hated the name so much he loved it. She walked beside him, and he felt her wrap the corset around his chest, then lace it behind him. He gasped and gritted his teeth as she pulled it tight, forcing him to exhale. Next, she draped the bra over his chest and clasped it in place.

She gave a firm smack to his bottom, letting out a loud plastic thud. “Good girl. Almost done.”

She walked again behind him, then returned to his front. She held the dress over his head, and let her put it on him. It covered his face as it dropped down, and when it passed, he saw her smiling and holding a pacifier in his hand. He gulped. It was another thing he never tried, but with his new underwear he could hardly argue. He opened his mouth and accepted it. Finally, she handed him a doll, and he took it under the crook of his arm. She took a pair of ribbons and began pulling them through his hair, tying them in knots. Finally, she took a thin leather collar and clasped it around his neck.

“Now there’s a pretty baby girl,” she said.

He blushed and looked down. The sense of humiliation was overpowering, and he felt his thoughts fly from his mind as it clouded over, overwhelmed with emotion.

She took him by the hand and lead him to the bathroom. She flicked the light, and once again, he almost gasped at what he saw.

She had positioned him directly in front of a full length mirror, and the sight of himself almost sent him into tears.

There was nothing masculine or mature about what he saw. Every inch of it was disgustingly pink and feminine, something under normal circumstances he would say no man would wear. The corset and bra twisted his body into a near perfect hourglass shape, and his long hair, now tied in pigtails added to it. Worse, the pacifier added a new layer of humiliation he wasn’t used to, and the short skirt left barely any doubt as to what was underneath.

He felt her place her hand on his backside again. As with everything else that day, there was nothing normal about the feeling it gave. She did it possessively, as if marking her territory, claiming what she grasped as her own. It was threatening, showing she could spank it in a second, and comforting, letting him know she was there to control him. More so, it reminded him of what he wore, letting the garment and the position it emphasized stick deep in his mind.

“Lift your skirt sissy.”

He felt tears form in his eyes, and he couldn’t tell if they were from pleasure or pain, happiness or humiliation. However, he obeyed, and saw himself staring at his own diaper. At this point he wouldn’t have even been surprised to find it wet from one thing or another- he felt so out of control he doubted his own senses.

“Now, my little Nelly, what do you see?” she asked.

"What? he replied.

She smacked his bottom hard. “Do you see an adult?”

“No,” he shook his head. It was true.

“Do you see a man?” she spanked him.

“No.”

“Do you see anything remotely mature or masculine in front of you?”

He shook his head.

“Say it.” Another spank.

“No.”

“Do you see someone who deserves any kind of respect, who deserves to ever be listened to or to make their own decisions, or do you see someone so pathetic and low, so dumb, that they should be laughed at and humiliated at any chance, and controlled so that they never get to make any decisions for themselves?”

“I see someone low, who needs to be controlled.”

“Do you see a grown adult man, or a pathetic little baby girl?” Another spank, this time harder.

“I see a baby girl ma’am.”

“Use the word you’re avoiding.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. He hated and loved how much she could predict him. “Pathetic. Its pathetic.”

“Tell me everything you see.”

A thousand words came to his head, and each one filled him with both pain and pleasure. Tears welled in his eyes as he spoke. “I see a little diaper girl. I see your slave, your toy, your property. I see someone who needs to be kept in diapers because even though they are grown adults they can’t be trusted to control themselves.”

“Good. You know what else I see?”

He shook his head.

“I see a liar.”

“Ma’am?”

“I see someone who, deep down, knows that this is what they are. A submissive and a adult baby girl who needs to be kept in diapers and dresses with their dominant watching over them, but who lies to themselves and to others, pretending to be something they aren’t, going around dresses as a man. I see a liar who needs to be punished harder then I ever punished anyone, to be taken to everyone they know in their diapers and skirts and forced to admit what they are and beg for forgiveness for their life of lies. Isn’ that right?”

He nodded.

“Good. Then shall we go down stairs like this and show everyone the truth?”

His eyes went wide. If his heart was thumping earlier, it stopped now. “Ma’am?” They couldn’t do that… could they? It was impossible, wasn’t it? He tried to tell himself the idea was horrible, but deep down he knew he loved it.

She laughed. “Tell you what. Why don’t we let this decide?” She smacked the front of his diaper, causing him to grunt and double over in pain. “Since you’ve been so naughty, you are going to go stand in the corner and think about what you’ve done and about what you’re wearing while I get ready. If you really don’t want it, then you’ll be able to calm yourself down. However, if you can’t…” she reached her fingers around his diaper and squeezed. “Then clearly my little diaper girl wants people to know. Fair?”

He nodded. “Yes ma’am.”

“Then go stand in the corner.” She leaned in and whispered in his ear. “And lets see if you can keep those diapers dry or if I’ll have to keep buying them for you.”

He walked toward the corner, for the first time noticing the crinkle of the diaper, and how the bulk made him waddle. If he did wear this downstairs, it would be impossible to hide. He had worn skirts and dresses in public before, his slight frame even allowed him to pass at times, but the ridiculous frills and the diaper would be another matter entirely.

The thick padding of his diaper hung heavily and rubbed him in the most infuriating way. If someone asked he would have told them he prayed he would calm down, but he knew that would be another lie.

(So I’m having trouble deciding the ending. I’ve asked and got a variety of answers. He is about to be taken into public. Should he…

A) Be accepted and thought to be a girl

b) be laughed at and teased for crossdressing and being a sissy

C) find out people have been paid off and are treating him like a baby (this was a recommendation and far more fantasy then I initially planned, but could work)

or some combination of the above?

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(So a while back I asked what kind of ending people wanted for this story. Since there were a lot of different ideas with varying levels of fantasy, so I wrote out a list of shorts for each one. The first was IMO the more realistic one, and also the shortest, where people assume he’s putting on some kind of show. This was a place holder ending which was in line with the somewhat realistic tone of the store. The rest are, in order: people don’t notice and think he’s a girl, people notice and laugh, boys think he’s an attractive girl while girls know, and everyone treats him as a baby. Pick your favorite)

A few chuckled came as the couple walked through the atrium. At first glance they might just have been two women holding hands, and most passed them off as just that. A few others paid more attention to the second in bright pink and white, wondering why she was wearing such an eccentric dress. The more they looked the stranger it got, and others noticed the pacifier or the outline of the thick underwear under her skirt. Other still wondered if it was a girl at all.

One of them, in black, strode tall and proud, the other in pink blushed and hung her head. However, if anyone asked, the one in black would tell you she was the happiest girl there.

Neil sashayed down the hallway, eyes down, hoping no one noticed. His mistress held his hand and pulled him along.

They entered the wide, open atrium. Bright lights shone on marble floors, and people crowded between gold painted walls. She took him to gigantic double doors that were held wide open.

A few people nodded at them as they passed. Neil nodded back, trying to remain inconspicuous.

A black haired man, sitting on a padded bench, was looking at him. Neil noticed, and he quickly looked down and blushed.

Neil would have preferred to ignore it, but unfortunately, his mistress noticed as well. “Yes, can we help you?” She asked.

“No, sorry, I didn’t mean to stare,” he said.

“No, no go ahead.”

“Well, its just…” he looked directly at Neil. “You look very pretty in that dress, ma’am.”

Neil’s mouth hung open.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to be rude! Its just different and I just mean the dress… I mean also obviously your an attractive girl… I’m sorry I didn’t mean I know your together… AAAA I didn’t mean to imply a female and female couple couldn’t be…”

Mistress laughed. “That’s ok. She is very pretty and I’m lucky to have her. She doesn’t wear dresses like that because she doesn’t like attention.” She lead them on.

Neil looked back at the man who was leaving quickly. What did he mean?

They made it to the doors. On the other side was a dark room filled with round wooden tables and people eating.

“Good evening ma’am,” the maitre d’, a slender, dark haired man in a suit, said.

He looked back and forth between them, and Neil felt himself cower down, afraid of what he’ll say.

“Sorry, there are no new guests allowed in the rooms,” he said.

Neil looked at him again.

“I’m sorry what do you mean?” Mistress asked.

“Where is that man you came in with?”

She laughed. “Oh, he was just helping me carry my bags. This is Nelly. Check the records, you’ll see its booked for me.”

Neil’s mouth hung open. He felt her nudge him, and he tried his best effeminates voice, which she had him practice. “Yes, he was just a friend of ours.”

The maitre d’ put a hand to his chest. “My mistake, and my apologizes ma’am. Please, this way.”

He showed them into the restaurant and toward a table. Mistress waved at a few people they passed, and Neil followed her gaze. They all looked at them… normally. Not a sign of shock or amusement, none of the expected laughter.

They sat down at a table in the corner. On one side of the wall, inside an elaborate white frame, was a small oval mirror. Neil looked at himself. He saw himself truly for the first time, without the embarrassed and aroused mind set of above.

Of course they weren’t staring. There was nothing to stare at. Sure his dress was oddly frilly, but it wasn’t that bad… for a girl. With the make up, his long hair tied, his collar hiding the apple on his neck there was nothing to say he was anything but that. To anyone they passed, they were a lesbian couple who liked bright clothing.

He felt a tug on his skirt. Mistress had already sit down, and she pointed at her ear, signaling she had something to whisper. He leaned down. “Enjoying your appearance pretty girl? I’d get in your seat, because anyone sitting near you can see your diaper.”

Neil sat down fast and looked around. Everyone was eating, no one seemed to have seen anything. He’d be fine- as long as no one noticed his underwear or the pacifier shaped necklace that hung from his neck.

I think both Baby Kevin

Thanks! Kevin?

Common sissy name apparently, particularly infantilised sissies.

It’s based on Kevin Keegan and his 70s hairstyle. No manly adult man would have hair like that.

(I may have entirely fabricated this entire post)

Makes sense. I had to look him up, and for the record I would totally rock that hairstyle if I could. That doesn’t really disprove your point though…

thanks for funny comments :slight_smile:

Neil sashayed down the hallway, eyes down, hoping no one noticed. His mistress held his hand and pulled him along.

They entered the wide, open atrium. Bright lights shone on marble floors, and people crowded between gold painted walls. She took him to gigantic double doors that were held wide open.

A few chuckled came as the couple walked through the atrium. The laughter began to grow slowly at first, then moved back through the atrium like a wave. Soon Neil was the center of attention, as people laughed and took pictures.

His mistress kept leading him. “Wave to your fans, sissy,” she commanded.

Neil obeyed, and got a cheer.

“Are you performing tonight?” someone asked.

“Oh she’s not a drag queen, she just misbehaved.” That was met with more laughter.

Neil shrieked. A hand patted his behind, and he knew it wasn’t his mistress. “Cute diapers, sissy!” A girl shouted, and Neil cringed. He had been hoping at least THAT had gone unnoticed.

A couple, a young man with dark hair and a shorter girl, came up and asked for a selfie. His Mistress agreed, and had him suckle his pacifier for a line of photos and selfies.

Neil didn’t say a word the entire night. He was far too embarrassed and didn’t want to attract more attention, and even if he wanted to the pacifier kept him quietly. However, if anyone asked, his mistress would assure them he was the little happiest girl there.

Neil sashayed down the hallway, eyes down, hoping no one noticed. His mistress held his hand and pulled him along.

They entered the wide, open atrium. Bright lights shone on marble floors, and people crowded between gold painted walls. She took him to gigantic double doors that were held wide open.

A dark haired man was staring. He was sitting beside a shorter dark haired woman, who looked like his sister.

“Can I help you?”

“No, its just… your girlfriend is very pretty. I know your together and I’m sorry.”

MIstress laughed. “Well you know, we are always open, and you know, what happens here stays here.”

Neil looked at her in shock. What was going on?

“I… Really?” the man asked.

The girl beside him burst out laughing. “No, not really. Trust me, you don’t want to go back with that ‘girl.’”

“What?”

“I’ll explain later,” she said, still laughing. She looked up and nodded at Mistress, then winked at Neil.

They passed, and Neil saw her whisper something in his ear, then his mouth hung open as he stared.

hey made it to the doors. On the other side was a dark room filled with round wooden tables and people eating.

“Good evening ma’am,” the maitre d’, a slender, dark haired man in a suit, said.

He looked back and forth between them, and Neil felt himself cower down, afraid of what he’ll say.

“Sorry, there are no new guests allowed in the rooms,” he said.

Neil looked at him again.

“I’m sorry what do you mean?” Mistress asked.

“Where is that man you came in with?”

She laughed. “Oh, he was just helping me carry my bags. This is Nelly. Check the records, you’ll see its booked for me.”

Neil’s mouth hung open. He felt her nudge him, and he tried his best effeminates voice, which she had him practice. “Yes, he was just a friend of ours.”

The maitre d’ put a hand to his chest. “My mistake, and my apologizes ma’am. Please, this way.”

Neil was even more confused. At first he thought it was obvious, but the Maitre D’ seemed to really believe he was a woman. Was the other man joking? But clearly the woman knew…

He walked between tables and studied the faces of people he passed. Men glanced up at them, then back down without a sign of surprise or curiosity. Not one of them commented, not one one of them snickered or asked why he was cross-dressed, not one showed any sign something was off. If he was judging off of them, Neil would have said he had made it.

However, they weren’t the only ones there. The first hint something was different was a mischievous, knowing look in a younger woman’s eye. She winked at Neil, then nodded at Mistress. An older woman smiled up at him and quietly shook her head. Another covered her mouth and chuckled as if trying to keep from bursting out laughing, leading to the man beside her to give her a confused look.

Neil realized what the difference was. All the men, not accustomed to paying attention to make up, or how dresses fit, or frankly, how to walk in heels, saw him as an attractive young woman. The woman however, saw the truth- a submissive, sissified man, having been taught his place by the firm hand of his girlfriend, and now suffering the consequences of misbehavior in public. Their smirks and condescending glances told the story well enough, and he knew even if he did change none of them would ever see him as anything different.

The reached their table and sat down. Neil heard his diaper crinkle underneath him, and there were a few more quiet chuckles. So there was another thing they noticed that the men didn’t- something even more embarrassing.

The waitress came to their tables. Neil didn’t talk, and she didn’t expect him to. She merely looked down at him with a smile, then spoke entirely to his Mistress, knowing she’d be ordering for him. Neil didn’t bother listening, though he imagined the order would be something fitting of his knew status. The waitress scratched under his chin and walked off.

Neil didn’t know what was worse- the confused men who ogled him, or the knowing women who smirked at him. Either was awful, but at the same time, so, so wonderful.

Neil sashayed down the hallway, eyes down, hoping no one noticed. His mistress held his hand and pulled him along.

They entered the wide, open atrium. Bright lights shone on marble floors, and people crowded between gold painted walls. She took him to gigantic double doors that were held wide open.

Neil tried to ignore the adoring coos that followed him. He heard cameras go off, and told himself it wasn’t for him.

His mistress stopped, and Neil looked up. There was a couple standing in front of them, a tall black haired man and a shorter woman.

“Awww what a cute little baby!” the woman said, holding her hands under her chin. She reached out and pinched Neil’s cheek. “Coochy! coochy coo!”

Neil’s eyes went wide.

“Yes I know,” Mistress said while ruffling his hair. “I think I’m very lucky to have her.”

“I’ll say!” The man said. “We’ve been thinking of having a baby too, but it seems like so much work. She seems like quite the handful. I’m surprised such a little baby can even walk on her own!”

“Oh, she is at that” mistress patted his diapered backside lightly. “I feel like I spend half my time feeding her and the other half changing her! She’s just a machine that turns apple sauce into mess diapers. Aren’t you?.” They laughed as she pinched his cheeks, and Neil stared dumbstruck. “But yes, she started walking recently. It helps a lot, though we still sometimes need a stroller.”

The woman reached into her purse. “Well, I don’t know how long you’re here for, but…” she bit her lip for a second. “If you want a free night, I’d be happy to babysit for you.”

“Oh yes! We’d love that,” the man said.

His mistress smiled. “That sounds like a wonderful idea. Thank you very much!”

They waved, and she walked on, dragging a confused Neil behind her.

They made it to the doors. On the other side was a dark room filled with round wooden tables and people eating.

“Good evening ma’am,” the maitre d’, a slender, dark haired man in a suit, said. “And hello to you little one! How have you been sweetheart? Huh! Awww she’s shy!” He said as Neil backed up.

“Yes, she can be like that. Don’t worry though, once we get some food in her she’ll talk your ear off!” They both laughed, though Neil couldn’t see what was funny.

The Maitre D’ lead them into the restaurant. People smiled and cood as he passed. Neil felt his heartrate increasing. What was going on? He had expected teasing, if not a few people perhaps not noticing anything, but this?

Neil gasped. The Maitre D’ pointed to a table, and right beside it was a large, pink high chair. The Maitre d left, and Mistress lead Neil around to the high chair. He was too shocked to argue as she lifted the table, brought him to sit down, and closed it, locking him in place.

“What… what’s going on?” he said finally.

“Oh, just everyone’s talking about how cute my little baby girl is,” she said. She leaned in “You really keep underestimating me, don’t you? You think I can’t pay a hotel and talk to a few people before arriving? What do you think I was doing while you had your pretty little nose in the corner?”

“I…” Neil’s face was a deep red. Of all the kinks they had tried, this was by far the most humiliation. He loved sissification, but this was a new level. And to do it in public… Even a regular skirt would be embarrassing.

At the same time, he couldn’t deny another feeling. Deep within him his stomach was turning in a mixture of nervousness… and excitement. It topped all other games they had played, anything he could think of, and even the fact it was sprung on him made it all the better. It was the most submissive experience he imagined he would ever feel. He hated it, but he craved more.

She didn’t let him finish. She put the pacifier in his mouth and left him silent. “They’re probably also wondering if she’ll keep her diapers clean or end up stinky in the middle of the restaurant.”

If he was red before, he was pale now. That lead in couldn’t be good. Waiters came by and placed a giant bowl heaping with mush in front of him, followed by a gigantic baby bottle. He had been wrong, there were far more submissive experiences possible, and he imagined he was about to get one.

“So, lets see. You failed the corner test, now the restaurant one. A clean diaper by the end of the night, or you’ll spend the rest of the vacation pampered.”

Neil looked at the bottle. If he knew his mistress, she wouldn’t be making a bet like that unless she knew what the result would be.

He looked around the restaurant, and the smiling, laughing and cooing faces. Everyone treated him as if he was what he was dressed as- a baby girl who obviously needed the diapers that hung, fully visible, from her pastel pink skirts. The thought of proving them right… he shuddered. Even the idea of just doing it made his stomach turn, but doing it in front of people? Forget being in a high chair, THAT would be by far the most humiliating experience of his life.

It was an awful idea, but much like the question as to whether he could keep his diapers, the answer was already a given. The growing excitement wouldn’t allow another response. He looked up at her and nodded.