My Baby Husband

Dear Helga,

I have an adult baby husband Donald that I'd like to tell you about. I'm a dominant northern lass with a mind of my own, and first met my prospective husband in 1965. He was a bit of a sissy, and well under his mother's thumb, but our relationship nevertheless blossomed, probably because he was so easy to dominate. During our bouts of heavy petting this was breasts only, and I never let him go any further. I was always in control, only occasionally allowed him some relief, and his frustration only increased my feeling of power.

We were married in 1970 when I was 19 and he was 23, and now that I had him securely in my grasp, I was ready to move on to the next stage of amusing myself at his expense. He was such a wimp, and humiliating him became a real pleasure. I'd already planned something for him that I knew he would find exquisitely humiliating, and that was to dress him up as a sweet little baby girl and treat him as such, preferably in the company of several of my girl friends, who found the whole idea hilarious.

Before introducing him to his new role as a baby girl, I secretly assembled all the items I would need. This included a complete set of baby clothes in his size, which was no problem. There are plenty of mail order companies who specialise in adult baby requirements, and I had great fun selecting the cutest little baby frocks and bonnets for him. Needless to say, I could hardly wait to see him in them!

I correctly anticipated that he would vehemently refuse to undergo such a humiliating regimen, so I set about trapping him in such a way that he would have no choice but to co-operate. I knew that for some time he'd been indulging himself in some nefarious deals concerning his embezzlement of company funds, and kept it to myself until such time as I could use the information to coerce him (I so hate the word blackmail), into going along with my plan. The time came when I knew that the extent of his embezzlement would ensure not only his dismissal, but also a lengthy jail sentence, and that was the time to strike.

One memorable Saturday, I took him into our spare bedroom, where I'd laid out his delightfully cute baby clothes. The expression of horror on his face when I told him that he was about to become my sweet little baby girl whenever I wished to treat him as such was a picture. He of course defiantly refused to go along with the idea, until I showed him the abundant evidence of his embezzlement that I'd assembled. His shoulders visibly sagged as he realised how he'd been trapped, and I'll never forget the look of resignation on his face as he nodded in submission to my demands. The stage was now set to put my plan into action, and I tingled in pleasurable anticipation.

Now that I had his reluctant co-operation, I immediately dressed him in a nappy, plastic baby pants, and a very cute white satin baby frock with short puffed sleeves and a peter pan collar. It fastened at the back with a row of small pearl buttons and a sash belt tied in a bow. All in all, it was a typical baby frock.

On his feet went a pair of white ankle socks with a frill at the ankles, and a pair of white leather sandals decorated with pink flowers. On his head went a pretty bonnet, and after sticking a large sized dummy in his mouth and tying it in securely with ribbons going around his head, I buckled him into a set of pink leather baby reins securely fastened at the back with lockable buckles that couldn't be unfastened without the key. The chest strap of the reins was fitted with wrist straps to keep his arms helplessly restrained up below his armpits, and once he'd been fastened into them, he was literally as helpless as a baby.

I couldn't help laughing at his ridiculous appearance, and with a chuckle of satisfaction I led him out into the garden, where I attached the leading strap of the reins to the washing line. This meant that he had the freedom of movement to walk up and down along the length of the washing line, but no further. That done, I went indoors and left him to contemplate his infantile future, while I phoned two of my friends and invited them to come round to inspect my new baby girl.

Iris and Judy soon arrived, eager to see what transformation I'd wrought in my wimpish husband, and when they saw him they laughed until the tears ran down their cheeks. We sat down on the garden furniture in front of him, and began discussing what beautifully humiliating plans we had for him, including some shopping trips into town with him strapped helplessly into the stroller that I'd already acquired for him. You should have seen his face as we told him what he was in for!

So ever since then, I and my friends have had a wonderful time at his expense, but one unexpected development is that due to his submissive nature, he's actually come to accept the situation. In fact, although he hated it at first, I suspect that he now actually enjoys our humiliating sessions. Our love is now stronger than ever, so my domination over him has done no harm to our relationship. He's suffered many humiliations under my management, particularly at the hands of my friend Iris, who sometimes comes in to bathe 'baby Susan' as we've christened her, and give her breakfast and dress her. Baby Susan doesn't always like this because Iris enjoys giving her some very hard slaps on her botty before she's put on her potty!

Baby Susan also suffers the humiliation of having to work with one of my nieces who has a wicked sense of humour, and enjoys making baby show off her nappy at the least provocation. Easy to do, because all her baby frocks are very short, so she only has to bend over to show off the frilly waterproof or frilly plastic pants over her nappy. Any resistance on baby's part is met with a punishment such as standing in the naughty corner with her panties pulled down to her knees, or if baby's particularly naughty, she's bent over and firmly chastised on her bare botty with a riding crop which is always at hand.

Well Helga that's all I have time for at the moment. By the way she's wriggling and moaning through her dummy I think baby's getting near to bursting, so feeling kind tonight, I'm going to let her use her potty.

Best wishes from 'Mummy' Lindy

My Baby Husband in His Panties
My Baby Husband in His Panties

Thank you for your letter Lindy. You have done a wonderful job with your husband and as time goes on, I'm sure his submissive nature will only increase, we wish you both the very best and hope that you will write again sometime with an update.


Letter 4