    ----------------------------
    The Trip

    Summary: The story of a 15-year-old boy who is taken on a
    trip by his aunt, as a baby.
    ----------------------------

    The Voyage (Le Voyage par B‚b‚ Pat, 1999)
    Translated from the French by Baby Morgan, 2001

    	We had already driven for 3 hours on the motorway.
    Outside the weather was cold and raining. It was just two
    of us; my aunt Erika who drove and me on the back seat.
    Actually, she was my cousin. But the difference in age, she
    was 32 and me 15, and especially the kind of rapport
    between us, meant that I called her my aunt. We were going
    to her friend who had invited us for a two-week visit.
    	Aunt Erika had assured me that 'aunt' Irmarg already
    knew a lot about me, that she was curious to see me, and
    very happy about our visit. My aunt Erika added, while
    smiling at me, that her friend above all, wanted to have a
    baby.
    	I did not have any reason to be surprised by her
    comment, as I was sitting in the back seat of the car with
    a thick diaper on my behind and between my legs and it was
    certainly not the first time that I had been diapered like
    a baby.
    	I was accustomed to wearing baby clothes, but what
    bothered me the most was to be presented thus to a woman I
    didn't know. Moreover, it was the first time that I had
    worn diapers during the day and that I would wear baby
    clothes in public.
    	Aunt Erika had hidden the manner in which I was to
    make the trip until that morning. Like each morning, after
    breakfast, she put me on the baby's potty to make poopies.
    At this point, I saw her lay out on the changing table the
    thick yellow diapers that she preferred to put me in at
    night. Then she took from the sideboard something I had
    never seen before that proved to be a narrow flannel diaper
    with snaps. In a pouch designed for this, she slipped two
    disposable diaper stuffers and placed the whole assembly on
    the yellow diaper.
    	These preparations left no doubt about what Aunt Erika
    had in mind for me. She turned towards me and asked:
    "Finished?"
    	I nodded my head and she lifted me from the potty,
    wiped me clean, and congratulated me, like one does a baby,
    for having done my business. Now she had no worry that I
    might mess my diaper during the trip.
    	"Well!" she announced. "Time to make you into a sweet
    baby. I think it is better that I put you into diapers for
    the long voyage!"
    	I had no grounds to protest, as I was already
    accustomed to being diapered by Aunt Erika. So, I sat down
    on the diaper spread out on the changing table without
    discussion.
    	My aunt slipped me into a baby style undershirt that
    was closed in the back by a cord around the neck and was
    covered with small colored flowers embroidered on the
    front. Next she laid me down and coated me thoroughly with
    cream and powder "so that I smelled like a sweet, clean
    baby." As she pulled the diaper between my legs she
    announced:
    	"Ah! Look how cute you are! It is really too bad to
    hide all that under diapers. Since I will have probably
    have to change you during the trip, I'm putting your
    plastic panties on you. She examined me once more and
    thought: "We will have to do without much more of his
    layette; the child is getting too big, and his normal pants
    won't fit otherwise!"
    	Once the diapers and plastic pants were secured, she
    tapped playfully on the thick bulge of diapers on my
    behind. She still decided to put me in a loose, long sleeve
    baby-blue onesie that would "keep me warm and hide my
    dydees." After buttoning the onesie between my legs, she
    looked at me contentedly: "Now you look adorable! It's not
    right that we have to hide this from the world. I would
    have preferred that everyone see you in the car and admire
    my big baby. Oh well - I am sure you will like aunt
    Irmgard.
    	After, I dressed in my normal clothing. The pants were
    naturally too tight. It so strongly compressed the diapers
    between my thighs that I could hardly walk, once standing.
    I felt awkward as my aunt hugged me close, kissed me on the
    cheek, and announced that her big baby is just learning how
    "to walk." The idea of walking in front of people terrified
    me, with the fear reminding me at every moment that I was
    diapered like a baby.
    	I was a little comforted when my aunt pushed me in
    front of a large mirror where I finally saw myself. While
    the pants bulged in the rear and between the legs, at first
    glance no one would suspect that I was a 15-year-old boy
    who still wore diapers and plastic pants. Even the onesie
    looked like a normal shirt, at least with my pants on.
    	"Even when your dydees are wet," my aunt joked, "they
    won't be more visible than now."
    	I was in a state of apprehension and anguish for the
    nearly three hours we had been on the road. Up until now,
    no one had seemed to notice anything, but for the last hour
    and a half, despite my desire to remain dry, my diapers
    were wet. Even as I thought about it, I felt more warmth
    spread itself through my diaper. I was anxious about what
    aunt Erika would say when she realized just how wet I was.
    When she turned her head towards me:
    	"Oh! I see by his face that my baby has made pee-pee
    in his didees! Where am I going to change you now?"
    	I did not know, naturally.
    	"Look there," as she pointed out a sign, "in about
    half an hour, we'll arrive at a rest area. We'll be able to
    eat and maybe find a place where we can change you into
    some nice clean diapers."
    	I didn't see how she could do that, but she seemed to
    have an idea. I was increasingly anxious, because as she
    parked the car in the lot of the rest area, half an hour
    later, changing me was of paramount urgency. Since we had
    three more hours of driving to go, and with the thought of
    spending that time in almost overflowing diapers, I made no
    objections when she instructed me to follow her.
    	She took the bag in which she had packed that morning
    all the supplies required to change my now soaked diapers.
    I followed meekly behind her into the interior of the
    building. I wondered how she was going to be able to change
    me discreetly in the middle of the crowds of people, when I
    found myself before a door bearing the description "Baby
    Changing Room". I felt like I had been nailed to the spot
    where I was standing, though my initial reaction was to run
    as fast as I could, but my aunt Erika held me tightly and
    announced innocently:
    	"This is exactly what need! It is perfectly equipped
    for changing the wet diapers of toddlers like you!" She
    added, comfortingly:
    	"Just in case someone is curious, I'll simply explain
    that you are sick. Come on!"
    	With those words she drew me towards the door. My
    first hope was that we would be alone, but unfortunately,
    that was not the case. A rather young woman was just
    beginning to change her one-year-old baby. She looked at us
    a little astonished, not seeing a little child. Erika
    wasn't worried. She moved towards the large changing table
    that occupied the long wall of the room, at the other end
    of which the other woman was changing her baby.
    	To remain as unobtrusive as possible, I obeyed
    instantly when my aunt told me to lay down on the vinyl-
    covered padded changing table. As if it were the most
    normal thing in the world, Aunt Erika began to undress me.
    The astonished woman watched with interest. Naturally, I
    was humiliated.
    	Even though the situation was humiliating for me, it
    all became clear as I turned my head saw the baby lying on
    the other end of the table. I realized that I was lying in
    front of Aunt Erika exactly as the baby was in front of his
    mother, and that I was going to be treated exactly like
    that baby who was having clean diapers pinned on.
    	Meanwhile, Aunt Erika had undressed me down to my
    onesie. She was obviously enjoying the situation. She
    leaned over me and with a smile, and with a whisper asked
    if she should give me my pacifier. Thank heavens she wasn't
    serious!
    	As Aunt Erika unsnapped the onesie, the woman finally
    turned and said: "My, you have quite a large baby to care
    for there." "Oh, yes!" replied my aunt, "My little boy is
    simply sick. While it isn't serious, the doctors haven't
    been able to help. He still wets himself easily, and there
    isn't much choice but to treat him like a baby."
    	"Are those real baby clothes you have for him? I did
    not know that they made a layette for such a large child!"
    said the woman as she looked from her baby to me.
    	As she spoke, my aunt continued with me. Now I was
    lying down, the onesie raised under my chin and the arms. I
    looked exactly like the other baby down to our diapers,
    though they were naturally of different sizes. The woman
    noted that I was missing only a pacifier to be a real baby
    like hers.
    	"Oh! You'll laugh!" my aunt answered, to my terror,
    "He often is a real baby who uses his paci. You know, when
    you have to put a big boy into diapers, it is not only
    practical to dress him in a layette, it such a pleasure
    that that I often give him a baby bottle."
    	"I believe it, and really understand!" said the woman
    as she looked at me gently. "When children leave their
    layette and their diapers, you've already half lost them.
    After my oldest left and was no longer close to me, I have
    often wished that I could still dress him as a baby."
    	During the discussion, Aunt Erika withdrew a clean
    flannel diaper, identical to the one I was wearing, from
    her bag. She quickly assembled it and lined it with two
    disposable diapers stuffers.
    	"Oh! That looks so soft!" said the woman who had
    approached. "It is also very practical." responded my aunt,
    " It stay warm and lasts longer than ordinary diapers."
    	She peeled off my dripping diaper and placed it to the
    side. "Eh! It was about time. You would not have lasted
    three more hours " Aunt Erika announced. She slipped the
    clean diapers under my bottom and snapped them firmly into
    place.
    	During this time, the woman finished with her baby,
    and we were both snapped at the same time back into out
    onesies. While the other baby was dressed in a thick
    bunting bag and a small bonnet, my Aunt again dressed me in
    my regular pants. She lifted me from the changing table,
    patted me on the bottom and commented on how I was now a
    clean and dry baby. I was thrilled that I had made it
    through the experience and was glad that I wouldn't have to
    stay in the changing room for much longer.
    	Aunt Erika repacked the diaper back, placed the wet
    diapers in a plastic bag and threw the used diaper stuffers
    into the trashcan.
    	The woman had also finished. She lifted her baby into
    her arms and together we left the dreadful room. Despite my
    embarrassment, I was happy to be back into clean and dry
    diapers.
    	Outside, my aunt and the woman separated amicably,
    wishing each other a good trip and happiness for their
    children. As we moved towards the restaurant, aunt Erika
    asked me whether it had been that unpleasant for me, and
    commented that the other woman had been nice and
    understanding with me.
    	At the restaurant we saw them one more time. She sat
    with her family two tables away and smiled at me from time
    to time in a friendly way. Each time she did, I scrunched
    down, conscious of the fact that I was outfitted exactly
    like the baby sitting on her knees. I'm sure that was
    exactly what she wanted. Naturally that embarrassed me, but
    at the same time I felt a strange excitement.
    	When we returned to the car, my aunt thought that
    would be a good idea for me to take a nap and told me to
    lie down on the back seat. Once I lay down, she suddenly
    put a bottle of milk in my hand, slipped the nipple into my
    mouth. Tired by the meal and by all the stress, I nursed
    without protesting... Once it was empty, I was so docile
    that, when aunt Erika exchanged the bottle for a pacifier,
    I continued to nurse. The fatigue and monotonous noise of
    the car transported me into a half sleep and my thoughts
    returned to when I first arrived at Aunt Erika's. I would
    have never dreamed then that, just eight weeks later, I
    would be lying on the back seat of a car, diapered like a
    baby, with a pacifier in my mouth.
    	Never would I have imagined that I would agree to a
    return to infancy or that I would find so much pleasure
    there.

    The End

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    Translator's Note

    As anyone who speaks more than one language knows,
    translating is far from an exact science. I often
    understood perfectly what was written in the original
    story, but found myself unable to express it in English.
    This generally happens because of different cultural
    references. For example, the method of diapering in France
    when using cloth diapers differs significantly from the
    methods used in the US. Baby clothes tend to be different
    between the two countries as well (hence the baby's
    undershirt that is used extensively in Europe but is a
    rarity in the States). I have attempted to maintain the
    spirit of the story as close to that which was written
    while making it more readable for an English speaking
    audience. Any errors are mine alone.