The Burglar

by Tom Lee

I woke up to find my diapers wet and messy, with Mommy nowhere in sight. I started crying, like any other twelve-month-old; wouldn’t you?

Maybe I’d better explain. My name is John, but my wife Susan and I were taking a week’s vacation out at the House, so for the week my name was Baby Gina, and her name was Mommy. Susan had hypnotized me at the beginning of the week, and this was three days later. I don’t know as much about hypnosis as Susan does, so I don’t understand it all, but by that Wednesday I was so used to being Gina that I didn’t answer to “John” anymore.

Anyway, for all intents and purposes except for size, I was a baby girl. My diapers had gotten messy, which woke me up from a nice nap. As Gina, I didn’t know my diapers needed changing; all I knew was that I didn’t like all that hot stuff in my panties, that I didn’t see Mommy anywhere, and that I was scared. So I started to cry.

Susan had gone to fix me a bottle before bedtime, but she’d been away far too long. That upset Gina, because Mommy always comes when she needs something so badly that she’s crying about it. Trouble is, this time Mommy didn’t come, and that scared me even worse. The walls of all the nursery rooms are soundproofed, so nobody could have heard me unless they were right next door, but Gina didn’t know that and didn’t care. I cried harder, and kept it up.

Suddenly, I heard the door open and saw two people enter the room. Baby Gina didn’t recognize them at all, but speaking to you now as John, I can tell you that they were Dan and Maureen, two other Society members. As it turns out, they were in the next room over that night. I didn’t stop crying, but I did quiet down a little, because they didn’t look scary. In fact, they looked like babies too.

The one who I can now tell you was Dan was wearing a one-piece, baby blue footed sleeper. He carried a rather heavy wooden paddle, presumably to be used when one of them was bad, but I don’t know which one. Maureen had a sleeper on too, but it was pink and had lace on it that looked like the lace on my dress. The arms of her sleeper were zipped shut, so it looked like there were mittens over her hands, and she had what looked like a recently-used pacifier dangling from a yellow ribbon around her neck. Both were obviously wearing thick diapers.

“John, are you all right? Where’s Susan?” Maureen asked me. Remembering it now, I know what she said, but as Baby Gina I didn’t understand her, so I just looked at her and kept crying.

Dan, meanwhile, had let down the side of the crib and understood the situation sooner. “Aw, poor wittle Gina!” he said in a soothing tone of voice, hugging me and patting my back. “Mommy’s not here, and Gina needs her dydees changed! I’ll help you, poor thing.” I stopped crying, and while I sniffled a bit, Maureen wheeled the changing table over.

My infantile mind got the message, and I crawled onto the table, which was at the same low level as the crib’s mattress. “I’ll go look for Susan,” said Maureen.

Dan managed to get me to lie down on my back, and started pulling my long, white stockings off. “All right. I’ll get Gina cleaned up,” Dan responded, and Maureen left.

Dan slid my plastic panties off and tossed them in my laundry basket. Then, he peeled the tapes off my diaper, lifted me up a bit, and slid it out from under me. He cleaned me up thoroughly with my baby wipes, then spread oil and powder all over my diaper region. A fresh diaper and a clean pair of plastic panties from the drawer, and my stockings and outer panties could go back on. I crawled back onto the crib, and Dan gave me my pacifier and raised the side again. Then he went away for a moment, probably to take care of my old diaper and to wash his hands.

We heard quick, quiet steps out in the hall, then the door opened and Maureen was back, her eyes wide. She shut the door softly and nervously, then burst out, “Some guy’s got Susan down in the library! He musta broken in. I think he’s got a gun.”

Baby Gina didn’t understand what Maureen was saying, but she could pick up on the panic in her voice. I looked at Maureen, and continued sucking my pacifier, but Dan was thunderstruck. “What? We’ve gotta help her! Did he see you?”

“No,” said Maureen, catching her breath. “I heard his voice before I got near the library, so I took the elevator upstairs and looked at the security monitors. I think he’s trying to rob the House. I called the sheriff’s department, but it’s gonna take ’em hours to get way out here.”

“Omigod. What are we gonna do? We don’t have any guns, or knives, or anything.”

“I dunno, but let’s get down there. We’ve gotta help Susan!”

So Dan took me out of my crib and strapped me into my stroller, pacifier still in my mouth. Maureen asked, “Are you sure we should take her? It might be dangerous.”

“She’s a baby,” Dan answered. “If we don’t take her, who’s gonna watch her?”

“Okay,” said Maureen, turning the doorknob, “but I hope that pacifier keeps her quiet.”

It did, for a while. We took the elevator down to the ground floor. It’s a good thing that elevator is so slow. I didn’t get upset by the feeling of going down, and the burglar probably didn’t hear the elevator running.

Maureen looked left and right before we left the elevator. Dan pushed my stroller slowly through the parlor, then the hall, while Maureen scouted ahead.

We were about to enter the sitting room when Maureen came back. “He’s still in the library!” she whispered. “You can hear him as soon as you turn the corner.”

We slowly edged into the sitting room, and sure enough, I could hear an unfamiliar male voice coming from the other side of the library door.

“Wrong answer,” said the voice. “Let’s try it again. A house this big must have valuables in it somewhere. Where are they?”

“I’ve told you twelve times already, there aren’t any,” said Susan’s voice. Unfortunately, to Baby Gina it was Mommy’s voice, and she missed Mommy.

“Mommy!” I yelled, dropping my pacifier.

I heard some noises behind me and looked. Maureen was gone, and so was Dan’s paddle. He started pulling me back toward the hallway, but couldn’t move fast enough.

The library door flew open, and we saw a man in dark clothes pointing a gun at us. Dan froze. “Don’t move,” said the burglar, as if we were going to.

Then he saw us, laughed, and came toward us slowly, keeping his gun trained on Dan’s chest, or mine, at all times. “Well now, isn’t this cute? Two babies, one in a stroller.

He bent down and looked at me, his gun frighteningly close to my chest. “Having a good time?” he asked. I looked at him, frightened. I had to piece together what happened next from what Dan and Maureen told me.

“She doesn’t understand you,” said Dan, looking levelly at the burglar.

The burglar stood up and looked at Dan then, saying, “Doesn’t speak English, huh? But you do.” Stepping slowly around behind Dan, the burglar pointed the gun at his head and said, “So tell me, baby, are your diapers wet?” He grabbed the seat of Dan’s pants and felt the mess that Dan had recently made in them.

He seemed truly surprised and drew his hand back quickly. “Shit!” he exclaimed appropriately, “you’ve dropped a load! For real!”

Then there was a loud, sharp sound, like a note played fortissimo on a xylophone.

Dan started breathing again and sighed, “Nice job!” Maureen took a deep breath and gave Dan the paddle back, and I saw the burglar lying on the floor.

Then I saw Susan running toward me from the library, unlocking the other handcuff from her wrist. The burglar must have left the keys in there with her; not a smart move. “Mommy!” I said, and she crouched down and hugged me.

She asked me, “Gina, are you OK?” I was smiling and hugging her back, so she assumed I was. She turned to the unconscious burglar, quickly cuffed his hands behind his back, and started searching him for weapons.

“Susan, I’m so glad you’re all right!” exclaimed Maureen, picking up the burglar’s gun.

“I am too,” Susan said, flashing a smile. “Thank you for rescuing me.”

“Oh, it was no problem!” said Maureen in a sarcastic tone. She turned to Dan and said, “Well, I guess we’d better get a certain little boy’s diapers changed.”

Dan answered, “You don’t have to do them, Maureen; they’re messy.”

“There’s a first time for everything. Anyway, it’s only fair, because a certain little girl just messed herself, too.” Maureen turned slightly pink.

Susan dragged the burglar toward the elevator and said, “Let’s take him upstairs and call the police.”

“They’re already called,” said Maureen, as we went back through the hallway, Dan once more pushing my stroller. “They should be here within,” and she looked at her watch, “an hour and a half.”

Susan tsked. “Darn,” she said with real disappointment, “and I thought we’d get to keep him longer.” She had a wicked expression on her face.

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Maureen helped Susan carry the burglar into the elevator. Dan pushed my stroller in after them. “So what are we going to do with him?” Maureen asked.

“Let’s take him to the cry room,” said Susan. “We can tie him to something, and nobody’ll hear him if he complains.” Once we were out of the elevator, Susan and Maureen led us there. The walls and ceiling have sound- absorbent material on them, and they and the floor all have more of it within them, making the cry room even better soundproofed than the regular nurseries. There is miscellaneous baby furniture all over the room, like in most rooms in the house.

Susan looked around. “I know,” she said. “Let’s put him in the crib.” Dan let down one of the big crib’s sides, and Susan and Maureen lay him in it. “Let’s take off his clothes, too. That way he can’t have any concealed weapons.” Susan had a funny look on her face, sort of like when she’s planning to make me wear diapers to work.

Together they took the burglar’s clothes off, then Susan produced two sets of handcuffs and two sets of ankle cuffs from her pockets. “Oh, I love your equipment!” Maureen said appreciatively. Susan quickly secured the burglar’s limbs to the four corners of the crib. He was now helplessly spread-eagled on his back. She raised the side of the crib again. Even if the burglar got out of those cuffs, he’d have a hard time climbing out of the crib.

“There, now,” said Susan. “He should be nice and secure.”

“We’ll be right back,” said Dan. “I have to change my wife’s diapers.” Maureen grinned and turned slightly pink again. They left.

Susan rolled my stroller over near a chair and sat down to watch our guest.

After a while, the burglar began to stir and make incoherent sounds. Kind of like me. He was muttering something like, “… dropped a load … dressed like babies ….”

I think he would have sat bolt upright then, if he hadn’t been shackled to the crib frame. “Where are my clothes?” he shouted. “Where am I?”

Susan smiled and touched her hands together at their fingertips. “You’re in the cry room,” she said.

“I said, where are my clothes? Answer me, woman!”

“That’s ‘Mommy,’ to you,” Susan answered him. “We took your clothes because you might have knives or other nasty things in your pockets, dear.”

Maureen and Dan came back, holding each other’s hand. Susan took the opportunity to take us back to my room and change me, telling Dan and Maureen to keep an eye on our burglar. Once I was nice and dry, Susan took me back to the cry room.

The first thing we heard upon opening the door was the burglar complaining. “I’m telling you, I gotta take a piss! Let me up!”

Dan answered him, “And I’m telling you that you’re not going anywhere until the cops get here.”

Susan interrupted, “Of course, we have plenty of diapers.” Maureen looked at her and smiled.

“Oh, no,” said the burglar. “I’m not gonna pee in baby diapers like you perverts.”

“Then you’re going to make a mess of our cry room,” said Susan, “because we certainly aren’t letting you up. So we’d better get a diaper on you before you do. Maureen? Dan? Can you give me a hand?” She unzipped the compartment on the back of my stroller and took out a disposable diaper. “Hold him still,” said Susan.

Dan went to one side of the crib and Maureen went to the other while Susan unfolded the diaper. “No!” yelled the burglar. “You’re not gonna put me in diapers!”

Maureen and Dan together held his hips up so Susan could slide the diaper underneath him. The burglar struggled, but all he could move were his head, elbows and knees, and those not very far. He seemed upset, more than the indignation one would ordinarily expect. He continued to shout, “No! Not in diapers! Not back in diapers!”

Despite his struggling, Susan folded the diaper over his penis and taped it securely on. She patted it once or twice, and it made its plastic crackling sound. “Yes, dear,” she said. “Back in diapers for you, so you don’t mess up your crib.” She nodded to Dan and Maureen, and they let go.

After that, he either relaxed or resigned himself to his fate, because he was quiet for a few minutes. Finally he asked, “What kind of place is this, anyway?”

Maureen, sitting down across the room, answered, “The house belongs to the Society. The International Diaper Society.”

“What’s that?”

“We all like wearing diapers or acting like babies, or have relationships with people who do. A rich member willed the house to us. Remember Norman Anderson?”

“Yeah, wasn’t he like the richest guy in the world?”

“Well, fourth or fifth,” Maureen answered. “He liked diapers too. He built this place as his dream house, and when he died he left it to the Society, along with funds to keep it going.”

“There must be a lot of people who like diapers,” said the burglar.

“Well, the Society has over ten thousand members, worldwide.”

“That’s a lot,” he said. After a pause he said, “I really gotta go.”

“It’s a diaper, dear,” said Susan. “That’s what it’s for. Besides, we can’t let you up — we can’t have you tricking us and escaping, with the police almost here.”

He sighed and closed his eyes. There was a hissing noise, and we could see his diaper getting wet. He sighed again and said resignedly, “Well, I hope you’re happy.”

“You did fine, dear,” said Susan.

After a moment, Dan said, “Maureen and I should probably go wait for the cops.” Susan nodded, and the two of them left the room.

More time passed, then the door opened to reveal Maureen in street clothes. She was probably diapered underneath them, but she obviously didn’t want to spook the police any more than they already would be just from seeing what they’d have to see anyway. “They’re here,” she said. “Dan’s going to show them in.”

“Thank you, Maureen,” said Susan.

“Um,” said the burglar, “you are going to give me my clothes back, aren’t you? I don’t want to go to jail in a wet diaper!”

“Perhaps you should have thought of that before you tied me up and waved a gun in my face, dear,” Susan retorted calmly, with a smile. “We’ll give your clothes and everything else to the police, and they can decide what to do with them.”

“Oh my God,” he said.

The door opened, and we heard Dan’s voice saying, “… a few unusual upstairs rooms.”

An unfamiliar male voice said, “Yes, we’ve heard a few things about this place, but nothing … hmm! That’s different.”

“Wave hello to the nice police officers, Gina,” Susan said to me. I smiled around my pacifier and waved clumsily. The two officers entered the room and saw the burglar in the crib.

“Bizarre,” said the officer, waving faintly with the fingers of one hand.

“This the guy?” asked the other officer, who was female and like her partner was dressed in the uniform of the county sheriff’s office. She got out her handcuffs.

“Aw, shit,” said the burglar, trying to turn over and hide his face, but the cuffs he was in wouldn’t let him.

“It is indeed,” Susan answered. “We have his clothes, his gun, and a videotape from the security monitors that I’m sure you’ll find useful.”

The male officer said, “How do we know this wasn’t just one of your play scenes gone bad?”

Susan arched an eyebrow and said, “I’d say that the evidence speaks for itself. His gun is loaded, for one thing.”

“Hmm!” he said, apparently satisfied. “Well, Simmons, let’s bring him in.” He read the burglar his rights as Simmons and Susan transferred his wrists into Sheriff’s Office handcuffs and removed his leg irons. Simmons remarked that Susan had more hardware than they’d brought with them.

“Here’s everything else,” said Maureen, standing in the doorway with a paper grocery bag.

“For the love of God, let me put some clothes on,” said the burglar.

Susan smiled. “Go with the nice officers, dear, and if you’re really good they might change your diaper.” She turned to the male officer and handed him something. “Here’s a disposable pad to put under him in the back seat. I’m sure you don’t want him leaving any stains in your prowler.” The burglar cursed at Susan, but she just smiled and covered my ears.

They took him away. “I’ll bet baby Gina needs a change,” Susan said to me.

There was some publicity surrounding his trial, simply because of the reputation of the house, but it didn’t last long. Susan had to testify, but none of the rest of us were called, since the videotape told most of the story. That was a good thing — as a psychologist, Susan’s career was the least likely to be hurt by the publicity, since she could easily explain what went on at the house as therapeutic psychodrama.

We didn’t see the burglar again until years later, when he joined the Society. But that’s another story.

© 1998 by Tom Lee

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