My wife took me clothes shopping today after getting a ticket for not having me in a baby seat in the car. She tried to explain to the police officer that I was forty-one years old and the law didn’t apply to me, but the cop just grinned as if he didn’t believe her and told her to tell it to the judge. As expected, she took me to a baby boutique. It was a humiliating experience. At first she was considerate of my feelings and tried to get smaller sizes made for older toddlers. As she continued to shop, she became enthralled with the cute clothes designed for younger children. She seemed to forget I was her adult husband and began shopping for me like I was two years old. She towed me from one display to another, holding my hand tightly in her grip. I resisted and tried to dig my heels into the carpet, but she was too strong for my baby muscles. She hauled me protesting down the aisle with my feet dragging behind me. When I got mad at her and called her a bitch, she took me into the dressing room, pulled down my training pants and gave me a spanking! Then she pulled up my pants, put me in the baby seat of a shopping cart with the tears from my spanking still running down my face and went directly to the sales counter where she immediately bought a pacifier. She unwrapped it at the sales counter and laughed as she turned to me and put the pacifier into my mouth in front of everyone in the store. Everyone applauded her mastery of my tantrum and made approving comments on what an effective mother she was. She smiled warmly down at my condition, basking in the approval of her peers. I blushed hotly as she patted my head and told me to be a good boy and suck on my binkie. I was completely under my wife’s control and she knew it. Then she went on a shopping spree just to piss me off. My wife must have spent over five hundred dollars at the boutique. She bought everything from clothes to furniture there. What she couldn’t carry in the car she arranged to have delivered.

I rode home in the back of my own car, strapped into a baby seat. On the way home I had an ‘accident’ in my pants. Not a big one, but humiliating nonetheless. She saw the growing yellow stain in the rear view mirror and stopped at a convenience store to buy me some diapers. I wept and whimpered as she took me out of the baby seat and diapered me on the back seat of my car, but my tears didn’t faze her at all. I writhed on the seat trying to get away from her and in the scuffle the mess from the back of my training pants got all over my wife’s clothes and on my shirt. My wife pulled it off of me in disgust and within minutes I was back in the baby seat wearing nothing but a disposable diaper.

That was the beginning of my return to babyhood. She drove back to the boutique and returned the children’s style clothes she had bought me and replaced them with infant and younger toddlers clothes. She bought an entire nursery suite, effectively doubling her order of furniture. I hung my head in shame when I saw that she was buying baby bottles and nipples for me to use to drink. Her next stop was the grocery store, where she bought a cart full of disposable diapers, baby food and formula. I sat in the cart facing her with silent tears running down my face as she compared various brands of disposables and talked with the mothers shopping there.