Dearest Susan,

The following is a true story from my troubled teen years. I would like very much to share it with you and your readers. The contents are absolutely true, with some very minor embellishments to maintain reader interest. I must preface the story by telling you that I am a male to female crossdresser, now in my mid 50's, with a totally involved and supportive wife.

I was in my early teens, just entering high school. Mainly because of my religion, I was always being physically and verbally abused by many of the other students. I sought desperately to escape the constant brow-beating. For whatever reason, I was unable to fight back or defend myself. The lack of the ability to do so cost me a proper education.

One day, in a neighborhood not far from my own, I happened upon a row of attached common garages in a garden apartment complex. One of these spaces was being utilized for storage of personal items which was fenced off from the other spaces by chicken wire. My curiosity was aroused.  Something told me that the escape I was seeking was close at hand. There was an opening in the wire just barely large enough for me to crawl through, so I went in.

There it was, in the rear corner of the space! My dream baby carriage, or pram...Nirvana! My escape! My home away from home! The carriage was gorgeous!  Luxuriously appointed! A Taj Mahal on wheels! It had large bright chrome wheels. Chrome and pinstripe decorations all over the deep blue coach body. The interior was truly lavish: baby blue satin quilting all around, including the underside of the hood. The linens, quilts, and pillow were all in white satin. As a side note, too bad the carriage had been done up in a baby blue theme. As a crossdresser, I would have enjoyed the escape more if the theme was baby pink, or even light mint green.

Also stored nearby were the rest of the baby's wardrobe....diapers, footed sleepers, bonnets, bottles, pacifiers, etc. Obviously the wardrobe would not fit a teenager, but there were enough extra bottles and pacifiers to satisfy my fantasy (after a thorough sterilization, of course).

The following day, I returned to "Paradise" with the freshly cleaned pacifiers and several bottles of apple juice (for some reason I always hated milk). Once again, I crawled through the opening and, with barely enough room, I managed to turn the carriage around and face the opening towards the back wall so as to reduce the possibility of being discovered there. The stage was set for what was to be many of my "escapes".  There was also a large adult sized quilt covering the carriage to protect it from dust and dirt.  This provided an additional margin of safety. If it appeared undisturbed, I shouldn't be discovered.

The carriage apparently had been in storage for some time. I quietly and carefully curled up in the carriage, pulled several quilts over me and began contentedly sucking on a bottle of juice. That did it! Instantly, there was a tremendous feeling of peace and tranquility that enveloped me. For the first time since real infancy, I felt like one (sans wardrobe and a nanny). I also took the precaution of wearing freshly laundered clothes and no shoes, so that I would not soil the carriage interior. I guess what also aided in the peaceful feeling were the remaining scents of the baby oils, powders, and carriage materials. They brought the very pleasant memories of my infancy. These escapes were carried out a great number of times throughout high school.

The string of "escapes" nearly came to an abrupt halt one day. You all know what it's like to "go to the well once too often".
Late one Friday afternoon, I was nearly asleep in the carriage, when a group of young children decided to play ball outside in the driveway. Perhaps the carriage belonged to one of them. The ball got away from them and rolled into the next space. Fortunately it did not roll into the storage area where I was. The children came into the garage looking for the wayward ball. I instantly froze in terror, causing the carriage springs to momentarily creak. I heard one of the kids say "I think someone's in here!" I froze again!  Would one of them call for help? By that time they had located the missing ball and returned right outside to continue playing. I had to remain totally silent in what was now my "prison without bars". I was beginning to cramp up, as my teenage frame would not exactly fit in comfort within the confines of the carriage. I had not spent that length of time in the carriage before.

Just over an hour had passed since climbing into the carriage. If I was discovered, there was just no way I could explain my presence there.  Finally the afternoon turned into early evening, but the cover of darkness was still a couple of hours away, because of daylight savings time. The children finally went home for dinner, and I was once again alone. Many of the other residents had already put their cars in the garage for the night, and closed and locked the overhead doors.  There were a few still empty, mostly at the other end. The doors could not be opened from the inside. I felt slightly more secure, but a bit uneasy because there was no escape if all the doors were locked for the night.

Gathering up my wits, it was once again "back to fantasyland". I had already finished one bottle of juice, but didn't dare to start the other. What if nature called? There were no bathrooms at hand. I decided to replace the bottle with a nipple pacifier and went off to sleep. Hours later, I awoke, startled, not knowing what time it was. Total darkness and an eerie silence greeted me when I peered out from under the big quilt. My worst fears were realized! I was trapped! All of the doors had been closed and locked! I had slept so soundly and peacefully for what I estimated to be about eight hours. There was virtually no escape from a prison now with locked doors.

How soon would someone come to get their auto? Would there still be sufficient cover of darkness to make a clean getaway? I got a break shortly after awakening to the new dilemma. A resident opened the door at the opposite end of the garage and took his or her car out. Right next to the end of the garage was a row of very dense, high hedges. To boot, it was still dark enough to get out undetected. A very humbling experience if I may say so. Fortunately, close calls such as this were a rare occurrence. My parents occasionally asked about my over-nite disappearances. I simply told them that I was staying over with close friends. They never questioned beyond my explanations.

As I said, the story you have just read was the truth. Now, over forty years later, I would very much like to experience a similar baby experience, but not for the same reasons. The terror and trauma of my high school years has long since been put to rest.
You all know the expression "a pinch to grow an inch". Well, my pinch has yielded many pounds and inches. As a teenager, fitting relatively comfortably into that carriage was quite a chore.  Not it would be virtually impossible. Does anyone know of the existence of a carriage as beautiful as the one I described, that will safely and comfortably handle a 5" 7" 200+ lb. "adult baby girl?" Are plans/drawings available to build my own?

My recurring baby thoughts and fantasies have prompted me to write the following imaginary story...

Picture this, we are outdoors, in a public park, on a delightful Autumn day. I am powdered, in diapers and plastic pants, bonnet, footed sleepers, mittens, dressed as a big baby girl, all in either pink, light yellow, or light mint green. I am in the carriage I had always dreamed of, again, sucking contentedly on that bottle of apple juice. My wife is sitting on a park bench gently rocking the carriage to put me to sleep.  As a real baby, I rarely had crying fits. I was a very good baby so getting me to sleep was never much of a chore.

A young woman passerby stops and notices the obviously oversized carriage. She comments on the size of the carriage and asks my wife if she could look at the "baby girl". My wife says, "Sure!" The young lady peers through the bug screen mesh at the already peacefully asleep "baby girl". She comments, "Oh my, she's beautiful!" Never a mention as to the "big baby" really being a grown-up!

Reliving the fantasy, either by reading about, or better yet, experiencing it, would go a long way towards escaping the pressures of adult life. Baby CL would be able to have the best of both worlds; her crossdressing combined with the escape to infancy. She is not desirous of humiliation or bondage, as most big babies are.  Just a harmless avenue of escapism. I realize that this is impractical from a purely financial standpoint, as well as carrying a high risk of public humiliation. Does anyone have any sincere and meaningful input? feel free to e-mail me at big_baby_05401@yahoo.com 

Baby Clarissa Lynn

The other students at your school must have been awful - what religion were you to have attracted such torments? At least on the main island of Britain a child's religion has usually been a matter of supreme indifference to other children, although it must be said that England especially has long been the most religiously uninclined country on Earth - here the Church of England has always had the stress on 'England', and never on 'Church'. Its formation was political, not theological.

Many readers in their childhood made a supremely glorious discovery like yours; such as a trunk of frilly girls' clothes in an attic, or something similar. The epiphany of discovering such a treasure trove colours the rest of their lives, and is like being granted a secret vision of Heaven. You are very fortunate to have such a warm and supportive wife. If she is aware of this site I would love her to write an article explaining how other women can learn to accept and benefit from these yearnings in their husbands.
Susan