Fantasy Dream Land
Adult Baby Bedtime Stories


Sitting on Mama Jenn's Lap

The Runaway

The Wayward Jock

A Childish Husband's Fate Within a Conspiracy of Love.

Sitting on Mama Jenn's Lap

Once upon a time, a man (who I shall call Frank for privacy reasons. I've changed his name to protect his privacy.) in his early thirties called upon me at my residence and asked to have a personal chat with Mama Jenn. He had emailed his request to me the week before to discuss his deep depression about his life and his recent silly and infective attempt at suicide. He told a rather sad tale of being forced to grow up too quickly by an overly demanding and authoritative military father as well as a mother who didn't have the maternal touch. Apparently, from Frank said, his mother did not like to touch people and disliked caring for babies. As a consequence, this poor man had grown up without a mother's love and touch. The lacuna that Frank's mother's lack of love left in Frank's personality was patiently obvious. It is a rare thing for me to allow visits of ABs into my home, but Frank's case was serious. He had no lover, mommy or caretaker to address his baby needs and every member his family had died years before. He was virtually friendless, except for a few email AB friends on the Internet. Since he admired my age regression stories and fantasized often about becoming a baby again, his psychiatrist recommended a visit with me.

His tale of loneliness and personal sorrow moved me very deeply. We sat in my studio, drinking calming sips of Chamomile tea laced with imported Tasmanian "Heatherwood" Honey while we discussed his misfortunes. He had worked hard all of his life, but he was completely bereft of human contact and the love that he so desperately needed. He cared nothing t lighter on my lap as they loose weight and their shirts become loose. Their foot size decreases as their bodies take on the shape they had when they were in their early teens, their shoes slither off their socks to clunk on the floor in an untidy pile of smelly leather.

After a few minutes, they look like five-year-olds who are playing "dress up" in their Daddy's clothes. Their pants are so loose on them that I have to hold them close to my breasts with my left arm and sweep their oversized pants from under their little bottoms with my right hand to let their pants and underwear slide off their legs onto the floor in a heap, taking their overlarge socks with them. Then I readjust their naked bottoms on my lap and lean them back on my right arm as I unbutton the dress-like tent their shirts have become.

Carefully and lovingly, I worked little Frank's shirt down his arms and off his body so I could drop it on the floor on top of his former pants and shoes. I always pick up the discarded clothes later on in the night after I've finished making my baby's formula and juice for breakfast. Once an AB has begun to shrink in my arms, I know that he won't be needing adult clothes for a long, long time.

Next Mama turned Frank who looked like he was between three and four) towards her again and slipped her right arm under his little nude bottom to lift him up to her right shoulder. The sweet innocent expression on the newly regressed face of Frank melted Mama's heart. Men have such a sweet and adorable appearance just after they've been regressed. The look of shocked and startled astonishment along with the their look of utter confusion always brings a motherly smile of reassurance to Mama's face.

I placed my left arm around his back protectively and held his head close to my neck as I stood up and carried the naked preschooler to the nursery. By the time we've reached the nursery, little preschooler body of Frank had regressed to a twelve-month-old baby in my arms. I carried him to the handsome, heavy, oaken changing table and laid him down on his back on the baby blue-colored, waterproof plastic changing pad. Then i put my left hand on the Frankie's baby's tummy to hold him in place while I reached under the table and take a diaper from the stack on the shelf below.

I stood up straight again, flipping the diaper open with one practiced movement of my right hand as I moved my left hand down to Frankie's thin ankles and gripped the both of them within the fingers of my left hand. Mama gently raised the baby Frankie's legs with my left hand until his bottom cleared the surface of the changing pad, so I could slide the fresh diaper beneath his bottom and straighten it before lowering his bottom to the plastic pad again.

Since Frankie wasn't wet or messy, I knew that all he needed was a bit of baby powder to make him smell as sweet as he was adorable. I deftly used my thumb and forefinger to twist open the lid of the large container of Johnson's and Johnson's Baby Powder that I keep behind the rail at the back of the changing table. Then I took the container of powder and gave him a light dusting of powder around his pubes and legs so he would have a sweet, vanilla-scented baby aroma before I fastened his diapers.

He wriggled in pleasure as I used my fingertips to work the soft, absorbent cornstarch into every fold of the skin of his legs and groin. I made kissing noises and expressions to him and told him what a good baby he was as I drew up the diaper between his legs and spread it out over his tummy. As I expected, he gurgled in delight as I fastened each side of the diaper down with a tension which was not over-tight, but was tight enough to insure that his diapers wouldn't slide off his bottom even if he tossed and turned while he slept.

Once baby Frankie was secured in his absorbent diapers, I held him to the table again as I reached down and pick up one of the translucent, frosted, plastic baby pants from the pile that I store next to the stack of diapers on the shelf. I picked up his legs as I had before, only this time I used both hands as I worked his tiny feet through the elasticized leg openings of the baby panties. After I worked the panties down past his knees to his diapered bottom, I took his ankles in my left hand again and lifted him up so I could pull the panties over his thick nighttime diaper. Then I tilted my head to the side and smiled at the babe lying so comfortably and adorably on the changing table in front of me. ABs are so cute when they regress to a one-year-old that I can't help but give them a big motherly smile of satisfaction about their transformation.

Baby Frankie cooed with pleasure as I placed a hand beneath each armpit and lifted his entire body up to meet mine. I held him up to my shoulder with one palm cupped under his diapered and pantied bottom as I snagged a clean blue flannelette baby blanket with two fingers of my other hand from the shelf. Before I carried him to my oaken rocking chair in the corner, I wrapped him snuggly in the fleecy blanket.

As I passed the nursery's baby dresser, I paused and reached out to turn on the preloaded CD player on top of the dresser. By the time we reached my rocking chair, the nursery was filled with the soft, soothing sounds of baby lullabies. I sat down in my rocker, and adjusted little Frankie so that he was resting upright and leaning against my left shoulder and arm. Then I slowly began to rock the chair while pulling and tucking the soft flannelette of the baby blanket around the limbs and torso of my baby boy to keep him warm and oh so comfortable. Once the chair had reached just the right rate of rocking to lull Frankie into a state of absolute contentment, I began to lightly stroke Frankie's face and hair with the fingertips of my right hand while I hummed softly in time with the lullaby. I smiled down at the serene look on my baby boy's face as it pillows itself on my right bosom. From the expression of contentment on my Frankie's visage, I knew that he was feeling the relaxing vibration of my gentle humming that reverberates from my chest.

Within minutes, Mama's baby Frankie was asleep and I held him tight as he drifted off into a deep baby slumber. I placed my hand on top of the white-frosted, plastic panty that shielded the area between his legs and felt a slight warmth radiating up through his diaper. I smiled broadly as I bent my head to give baby a quick delicate kiss on top of his forehead without waking him. Little Frankie had peed his diaper a little just as he fell asleep. I grinned maternally when I thought about how wet he would be in the morning.

When I was positive that he wouldn't awaken during the night, I carried him gently over to the crib and quietly lowered the side of the crib before I laid him down on his back. Then I lovingly tucked him in with his blankie before kissing him goodnight on his forehead.

After I turned out the light, I went to the kitchen to prepare Frankie's morning bottles of juice and formula. I knew that Frankie would sleep soundly through the night and be hungry, thirsty and wet in the morning. Mama would be ready for her baby's needs with fresh, dry diapers, clean plastic pants and baby bottles to slake baby's hunger and thirst the next morning. Mama has seen babies like Frankie many, many times before.

After a week in Mama's care, Mama located a suitable Mommy for Frankie. Mama explained to his new Mommy that poor little Frankie suffered from a rare genetic syndrome which "froze" his mental and physical development at the level of an infant for the rest of his life. He would never get any bigger or mature. He would be a baby forever. The mommy which adopted him understood poor baby Frankie's medical problem and was willing to adopt the adorable and loving baby despite his medical disability. Mama Jenn charged neither client nor adoptive mother for her services, because she believed that little Frankie deserved a break for a lifetime of patient waiting for a loving mommy!

And they lived happily ever after!

Sweetheart, that's the end of Mama Jenn's story called "Sitting on Mama Jenn's lap"...Close your huge baby eyes so you can go nite-nite!...Now, now, Sugar, don't make a face, it's time to go beddie-bye for Mama Jenn!...That's a gooood baby!...Sweet dreams, Sugarplum!...Don't let the bedbugs bite!...< Mama Jenn gives the diapered baby a maternal kiss on the forehead as she tucks the baby in for the last time and raises the side of the crib.> Mama whispers lovingly to the baby in the crib before she leaves, "Goodnight, Sweetiepie, Mama loves you dearly, oh yes she does! Yes, she does indeed!"

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The Runaway

Although Mama Jenn usually has no problems when ABs regress on her lap to babyhood, there was one time when an AB proved to be a problem child.

The AB who came into my studio and asked for my assistance told me that he was a criminal lawyer who wanted to return to the freedom of babyhood. Little did I know what kind of problems he was prepared to present.

After his initial interview, I told him to sit on my lap as usual. He did so, but he was strangely quiet as he began shrinking into a Kindergartner. Most ABs cry their little hearts out on Mama's lap, so Mama was a bit taken aback by his silence.

The regression proceeded normally, with him dropping weight and size within minutes until he was the size of a five-year-old. I undressed him and began to carry his nude body to the nursery for diapering. Suddenly, without warning, he began to squirm in my arms and worked his way free to drop to the floor. The tiny two year old screamed in absolute delight as he raced past my legs and opened the front door, leaving a trail of yellow pee in his wake.

I ran after him, slipping and sliding on the wet "land mines" that he had deposited during his retreat. When I reached the door, he was long gone. I couldn't call the police to look for him, so I very sensibly closed the door. What I needed was a strategy rather than a panic.

I took the diaper bag I usually use to display my babies to their prospective adoptive parents and added a bottle of baby formula from the refrigerator before I placed the bag inside the sumptuous and luxurious baby carriage that I use to give my new babies an outing of fresh air every day. Then I went outside as if I was giving my newest charge a bit of fresh air. Since my neighbors "knew" that I handled private baby adoptions for unwed mothers or mothers that didn't have the emotional or financial means to care for their babies, no one took notice of the customary sight of me pushing the baby carriage down the quite sidewalk of our street.

Hearing an infantine giggle, I snapped my head to my right to see the bare bottom of an eighteen-month-old baby disappear within the tall bushes of my next door neighbor. Rather than upset myself unduly, I took a baby bottle full of formula and a baby blanket from the diaper bag and, concealing them behind my body, walked over to the area just in front of the bushes. I laid the bottle down in the grass and stepped back around the corner of the house, holding the mirror of my compact at an angle at the building's edge to allow me to see what was happening around the corner.

Within seconds, a twelve-month-old baby boy crawled rapidly from the underbrush and seized the nipple of the bottle. He lay down on his back amid the supple leaves of grass and peed joyfully in a huge yellow arc that spanned two feet of lawn while he eagerly nursed on the latex nipple of the baby bottle. While he was distracted, I came around the corner and wrapped him up in the baby blanket so I could carry him back to the baby carriage. He screamed, "!" all the way back to the carriage at the top of his lungs.

When we returned home, he looked like he was twelve-months-old and still screaming "No!" in an irritatingly high pitch and insistent voice. Mama Jenn had had enough from the baby lawyer that day and took him into her studio to sit on her lap once more. Within seconds, he rejuvenated into a nine-month-old infant who could neither speak nor walk.

After Mama Jenn got him cleaned up and diapered for the night, she went to her office to consult her computer files. In a few moments, her Access database returned the name and personal information for a couple that had indicated on their application form that they would be willing to accept the responsibility for the care of an infant who had a genetic defect in his genome that would not allow him to grow up. (Mama Jenn had planned for such an occurance and had provided an area on the application form where prospective parents could indicate their willingness to accept a "defective" baby. Mama Jenn was an honest businesswoman and gave adoptive parents a fifty percent discount on such "defective" babies, so everyone was happy.

Mama Jenn smiled as she typed an encrypted email with news to the prospective parents that she had been given custody of a nine-month-old baby who had a genetic defect in his genome that would not allow him to grow up so that he would never mature enough to walk and talk. The loquacious freedom-demanding lawyer who had failed to follow procedure would pay the ultimate price for his lack of integrity. The second session in her studio had insured that he would forever remain a baby who could neither run away, nor ever talk about his experiences to anyone!

Mama Jenn kept him in her nursery twice as long as she did her usual "clients", thus giving him a "double-dose" of maternal loving and care to insure his mental regression into full babyhood. When the sadly-reduced remnant of the little lawyer left, he had almost forgotten his former life and would happily suck on his toes and fingers as well as his toys and pacifiers at every opportunity.

Mama Jenn was pleased by the follow-up report from the couple that had adopted the baby lawyer. Apparently, his development had slipped even farther under the loving care of his new mommy and even crawling on all fours had become difficult for him. Even so, his innate curiosity had caused his new mommy to keep him in a mesh-walled playpen or his barred crib when he wasn't in his high chair or baby seat for the car. The freedom-loving lawyer was as imprisoned as securely as any of his former convict clients had ever been. He'd have cried for weeks if he had been able to understand that his fate was a life sentence! But then, he was only a baby and didn't know or care about his future fate. He loved his new mommy and that was enough for him!

And they lived happily ever after!

Sweetheart, that's the end of Mama Jenn's story called "The Runaway"...Close your huge baby eyes so you can go nite-nite!...Now, now, Sugar, don't make a face, it's time to go beddie-bye for Mama Jenn!...That's a gooood baby!...Sweet dreams, Sugarplum!...Don't let the bedbugs bite!...<Mama Jenn gives the diapered baby a maternal kiss on the forehead as she tucks the baby in for the last time and raises the side of the crib.> Mama whispers lovingly to the baby in the crib before she leaves, "Goodnight, Sweetiepie, Mama loves you dearly, oh yes she does! Yes, she does indeed!"

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The Wayward Jock

Although Mama Jenn can usually control the activities of the men to seek her services in her studio, this particular jock was very, very naughty!

The AB who came into my studio and asked for my assistance told me that he was an athlete at a local University and wanted to have the same privileges that a baby has. I had no idea of what he meant by baby privileges as he sat on his seat in front of me. While his later actions were reprehensible, he was eventually awarded his heart's desire!

The blond-haired, blue-eyed Junior from the University of Texas entered my studio behind me and sat down on the seat across from me with an air of absolute Ayran arrogance. He explained that he wanted to suckle a woman's teats like a baby. I asked him if he wanted to simply suckle or did he want to taste of a mommy's milk, and he indicated that only a mommy's milk would satisfy him. I asked him if he was an AB/DL and he responded in the negative.

Having established that he was not a candidate for Mama Jenn's treatment for ABs, she told him that she couldn't help him. He grew enraged and threatened Mama's life if she didn't provide him with a suitable wet nurse. Mama shook her head "no" for the final time and the jock attacked her. He grabbed her blouse and ripped it open, revealing her bra. Seconds later, he snatched the bra from Mama's chest with a quick grab and pull on the section of the bra between her breasts.

At this point, Mama was more than a bit perturbed by the violence that had been done on her person. She smiled at the miscreant and offered him a seat on her lap so he could suckle her breasts. The athlete jumped into her lap without hesitation, thinking his "manly" aggression had convinced Mama Jenn to accede to his demands.

His eyes became wide and dilated as Mama Jenn's breasts grew larger under his gaze while her areolas darkened and doubled in size before his unbelieving eyes. When her breasts had filled with milk, Mama placed her right hand behind the mesmerized head of the jock and drew him close to the protruding nipple on her right breast.

He delved into the mysteries of feeding at a woman's breasts, suckling like a hungry newborn babe. Mama Jenn let him drink his fill before presenting him with her other breast. He rooted on her left breast and closed his eyes in ecstasy, unaware that he had already achieved the size of a twelve-month-old baby and was still regressing. His clothes had become so large and so quickly, that it was almost unnecessary for Mama Jenn to undress him. Within seconds, his clothes had completely freed themselves from his six-month-old body.

When he finished nursing, she gently removed her nipple from between his lips and then winded him, producing several loud, contented belches.

Mama Jenn took him to the nursery and diapered him before tucked him into his crib for the night and she consulted her database of prospective parents. When she found a prospective mother who had expressed a wish to breast-feed her baby forever, she knew that she had found the right mother for the former athlete. His transformation into complete babyhood had taken less than twenty-four hours. Mama Jenn made sure that he would never again grow up and become a danger to women again. He would be forever stuck as a baby who nursed at his mommy's breast for sustenance.

And they lived happily ever after!

Sweetheart, that's the end of Mama Jenn's story called "The Wayward Jock "...Close your huge baby eyes so you can go nite-nite!...Now, now, Sugar, don't make a face, it's time to go beddie-bye for Mama Jenn!...That's a gooood baby!...Sweet dreams, Sugarplum!...Don't let the bedbugs bite!...<Mama Jenn gives the diapered baby a maternal kiss on the forehead as she tucks the baby in for the last time and raises the side of the crib.> Mama whispers lovingly to the baby in the crib before she leaves, "Goodnight, Sweetiepie, Mama loves you dearly, oh yes she does! Yes, she does indeed!"

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A Childish Husband's Fate Within a Conspiracy of Love.

Sometimes Mama is very surprised about the requests that she gets from some of her clients. But she thinks ahead and is always ready to answer any need. Over the years, she's assembled a long list of people who can help her answer her clients' needs. This is the story of one woman whose needs were not surprising, and for whom Mama had a very ready answer.

I personally ushered the tan pants-suited woman into my studio, and said, "Just what can I do for you?", as I relaxed in the soft padding of my high-backed executive chair.

The prospective client gave me a rueful smile and said, "I don't need your services, but my husband does!"

"Are you his Mommy?", I asked sympathetically.

"No, but I should be!", she answered in a disgusted tone of voice before continuing, "My husband acts like a baby! He walks around the house in his dirty underwear and never picks up after himself!"

Is that all?. Mama Jenn said mildly in reply, "Virtually every man is like that. I fail to see why you need my services!

"We haven't had sex for four years!", my potential client exclaimed in complete exasperation.

"That isn't enough to justify my personal intervention", I said firmly.

"Well then, let met tell you how he acts and let you make your own decision," she said.

"I agree", I said.

My husband lost his job over a year ago and hasn't looked for a job since. He sleeps until mid-afternoon, then watches cartoons until bedtime. At first he used to have potty accidents and wet his briefs during the day, but now he wets himself during the day and night. He drinks an enourmmous amount of beer every night and during the day, leaving empty bottles and cans all over the house. Virtually every square foot of the carpet is stained with his pee or beer stains! Sometimes the beer gives him diarrhea and he messes in his underwear!

He's been completely impotent for years, which has caused me to seek sexual satisfaction from men other than my husband.

I nodded in understanding while remaining silent to let her continue speaking.

She looked at me in obvious distress and said, "I love my husband, but I love my lover too! What can I do?"

"Does your lover make enough money to support you and your husband as well as himself?", I asked.

"Well....Yes, certainly, he is the sole owner of a very successful business that has profits of over one million dollars per year!": she exclaimed.

"How has your lover treated your husband? Or do you meet together in secret?", I asked.

"Noo, my husband knows all about my lover. In fact, my lover put him back in diapers and treats him like a baby," she replied.

"Soooo...Explain to me why your lover treats your husband like a baby!", I replied.

My client looked nervous as she revealed the secret that she had attempted to hide from me, "He caught my husband beating me and then gave him a ferocious spanking. Then he diapered him and made him act like a baby while we made love in front of him.

"I see," I replied.

She sighed heavily as she continued, "Once my lover had established himself in the household as the dominant male, my husband went to pieces. He now wets and messes his diapers and whines for food or cuddling just like a baby. As far as I can see...he acts just like a real baby.

"I understand," I said with conviction as I added, "But I need to know just what you expect from me!"

My potential client blushed deeply and said, "My husband is a continuing embarrassment to me! I love him with all my heart, but he's only a big baby now. Isn't there something that to make him behave in a more socially acceptable manner?"

"Yes there is," I promised, "Are you prepared to have a permanent baby on your hands?"

"I do now," she sighed again and said, "It's so difficult taking care of a one hundred and ninety pound baby!"

"Does your lover have fifteen thousand dollars to pay for my services?", I asked.

"I was told that your services are free!', the woman exclaimed in surprise.

"Only if I can get the adoptive family to pay the fee for my services," I replied. "Sometimes I take on charity cases, but your lovers resources are sufficient to place you out of that category. Moreover, you've been stepping out on your husband, in violation of you marital contract with him. Mama Jenn does not support naughty behavior from anyone. If you wish to retain my services and since you'll be keeping the resultant baby, my full fee applies," I responded in a businesslike tone.

She nodded in silent acquiescence to my demands and I began my spiel about my contract and services in cases like hers.

"You will deliver my full fee in cash to me within two weeks from this day by the close of business on that Friday. Your husband's appointment with me is in four weeks. Here is the application for the medical insurance company which will cover your husband's health benefits in the future. Since I am an Insurance agent who handles a number of companies, the form is quite legitimate. All you need do is tell your husband that since he isn't working that you've found an insurance company to cover his health needs and to sign all the papers. Please see that it and all the other documents in the packet before you are properly signed and notarized. I've included the name of a discreet notary who is used to seeing adults in diapers and baby clothes. Make sure he signs the forms while he can still speak and act like an adult. You should note that your husband's new medical coverage only insures his pediatric needs since he will never need any other sort of medical care again.

If you look closely, you will see that one of the other documents grants you full power of attorney while another cedes you complete and irrevocable control over your entire estate. I've included a petition for an uncontested 'No Fault' divorce in among the paperwork. There is also a petition for an adult adoption as well. The name of an attorney who is very familiar with these processes is on sheet two. Since these are the forms that he uses, he will be able to proceed immediately once they have been given to him and his fees have been paid. It will not be necessary to discuss your plans and needs with your attorney. Once he sees the packet, he'll know what to do without further instructions. As an agent of the court, any plans that you deluge to him will place him in legal jeopardy. The forms are complete and he knows what to do when he sees the packet before you. Do not attempt to engage him in any conversation about your plans, is that clear?

Once the court grants you your divorce from your husband, then you can file the petition for adult adoption that is included in the packet. If you contact the attorney that I suggest, after you have been granted his full power of attorney by the courts and your husband's share of your joint property and assets are assigned to you, then your attorney will have your husband will be declared to be incompetent so that you'll be made his legal guardian.

The name of a psychologist who will assist you with your case by declaring your husband mentally incompetent due to extreme psychological regression is on page three. This particular psychologist is strongly biased against adult babies and will not hesitate to help you gain legal custody of your husband once he sees him in wet diapers and sucking his thumb. Tell him that your husband quit his job after learning that you planned to have a baby and then began his psychological regression immediately after the birth of your baby boy and relate to him your husband's history of impotence for the past four years. This psychologist is known to make preemptive diagnosis's without checking more deeply. He will assume that preexisting infantile jealously drove your borderline psychotic husband over the edge into full-blown schizophrenia.

If the psychologist asks where your little baby boy is, tell him that he's at Daycare while you tend to your baby husband's needs. After you commit to a long term contract with the Daycare Center, the Daycare's employees will cooperate your claim to have a baby boy in their care, so be sure to contact them and sign the contract before you visit the psychologist.

Ignore the psychologist's pleas to have your husband committed. He will try to tell you that it will be impossible for you to care for both babies at once, but you will be firm. Tell him that you've heard horror stories about what can happen to helpless patients in psychiatric wards and nursing homes and that you wish to care for him yourself. Since this particular psychologist has been a crusader for the reform of the State Mental Hospital in the past, he will reluctantly agree that your plan is better for your husband's care. Tell him that you've already hired a search service for a Health Care professional who would be willing to assist you in your husband's care.

I strongly suggest that you dress your baby hubby in leaky disposable diapers and shortalls with obvious leg snaps and a pacifier attached to the bib of his shortalls for both his visits with the psychologist and his later courtroom appearance. Pour a bit of water on his chin and bib before you take him out of the car so that the psychologist and Judge will think that he drools. On page four and five, I have included these instructions as well as listed a source for adult-sized shortalls with diaper changing snaps and a pharmacy that sells artificial saliva over the counter that you can use to drench his chin! Hand-sew a small embroidered Teddy Bear applique from the fabric shop listed on page four onto the bib of his shortalls to make them appear more babyish which will display your continuing love for your schizophrenic, infantine husband for all to see.

Retrain your hubby in thumb sucking in the next two weeks if possible so that he will suck his thumb unconsciously in front of the psychologist as well as in the courtroom. The hypnotist that I recommend in the packet will help you to retrain your husband to suck his thumb. Carry a diaper bag and time your baby hubby's feeding so that he will be sure to wet and mess himself during the visits to the psychologist as well as the court proceedings.

After your first visit to the psychologist, take your husband to visit the stage hypnotist I've recommended on page four. He will hypnotize your husband to believe that he is a twelve-month-old baby who drools, babbles, gurgles and coos, wets and messes his diaper and who loves to suck his thumbs, toes and pacifier. There is a code word on page five of the instructions that will identify what hypnotic treatment you husband needs to the hypnotist. He will give you a CD with subliminal post-hypnotic commands to reinforce the hypnosis treatment. Play the CD at all times in your baby's presence when he is not in the car or at the psychologist's office. You need not pay the hypnotist as his fee is included in my service.

Following a determination of incompetence, the attorney will file your petition for the uncontested divorce. When that is granted, you can legally adopt your former husband. After your husband's treatment with me, he will become a nine-month-old baby. For reasons of policy and security, I cannot allow you the option of letting him grow up again. He will remain a physical and mental infant for the rest of his life.

After his transformation into babyhood, I will have a clerk in the County Records office insert a birth certificate signed by a midwife in my employ that states that your husband was born to you nine months before and listing your lover as his father the next day. An application for a Social Security number will also be made in his new name, which will consist of your choice of his new first and middle name and your married name.

After you receive a copy of your baby's birth certificate in the mail, you are to make an appointment with the pediatrician listed among the instructions on page six of the packet. You will use my name as the referring person on the medical records sheet that you will be given to fill out. You might be interested to know that the pediatrician's husband disappeared shortly after he discovered that she was in the last stages of pregnancy while they were on a long camping trip. She waited hours for him to return, but two days later, she was forced to report him as a missing person.

By shear coincidence, the pediatrician's baby boy was delivered by the same vacationing midwife who will have delivered your baby at home. Unfortunately, because the doctor's husband vanished so quickly, that part of their estate is still tied up in probate and she will have to wait an additional four years of the seven year period before her husband is declared legally dead. It was a sad, sad story. They had just paid me a social visit the day before her husband's disappearance. When her baby became nine-month's-old, she diagnosed his failure to thrive as a rare congenital condition that does not permit a baby to grow larger or mature. Since that time, she has become a recognized expert in diagnosing this disease and has made a significant number of diagnosis's of similar cases. Her diagnosis of this particular disease is considered definitive and will not be questioned. Of course, she will become your baby's physician of record and she will accept payment from the health insurance provider that you will sign up with for your baby's health care needs.

She will not be very surprised at your baby boy's condition and will be able to detect his congenital defect almost immediately. By the way, the Communicable Disease Center in Atlanta has asked her to conduct a study of why there seem to be so many babies with this genetic condition cropping up within a hundred mile radius of here. Our local heavy pesticide use as well as a number of unreported "accidents", i.e., leaks of radioactive gas from our aging nuclear power station will be cited in the report along with the history of illegal or careless dumping of toxic industrial waste by industries in our area as strong possibilities for the statistically high incidence of this genetic disease in our area.

You shouldn't have any trouble enrolling your baby boy in the Daycare Center that I've listed on page six. They have a number of baby boys and a few baby girls enrolled with the same condition. They know the pediatrician in question very well and offer significant discounts on long-term contracts for babies with this condition. Some of the staff have their own baby's enrolled at the same Daycare Center. Use my name as the referring person and you will find them very helpful.

After a week at home, you will report that your husband has disappeared by walking out into the night wearing his diapers, shortalls and baby shoes that he wearing while he was playing on the living room floor with his baby toys. You will explain that the babysitter that you had previously hired to take help you take care of him was off that night. Use the URL or email address on page six to hire an assistant for you and make sure that it is her night off on the night of the disappearance of your husband. Explain to the police in a weepy, exhausted voice that that he was wearing his favorite clothes and describe them in loving detail, including his white baby shoes, frilly white baby socks and the Teddy Bear applique that you had hand-sewn to the bib of his outfit.

You will tell the police that you had been taking care of your little baby in his nursery at the time of your husband's disappearance and will greet the police with your baby boy in arms. If the police question the validity of your new baby, the midwife will cooperate the date of his birth in your home. The Daycare Center will have received a copy from the clerk and have created a backdated contract with your new baby's name and have daily logs of his stays at their center.

Since your mentally ill husband couldn't drive a car, write, talk nor communicate in any way, you will have no idea of where he was going. You will, of course, be very, very upset about his disappearance and will tearfully tell the police over and over how helpless and infantile your husband is. The crying will make your face look puffy and emotionally exhausted as you should be by simultaneously attempting to care for both an infantile, incontinent, schizophrenic adult husband as well as your own sweet little baby. The police will assume that your husband was taken by some predatory pervert and then sexually abused before he was murdered and his body was disposed of or hidden. On the night of his transformation, I will dispose of everything that he will be wearing when you bring him to me in order that the police will never find his clothes.

The adult babysitter that you hire will be able to tell the police that your husband often played in his shortalls over his diapers on the living room floor. Beyond the fact that you have both a baby husband and real baby, the babysitter won't be able to give the police a clue. She also won't have any connection to myself or anyone else that I have "business" relationships with. One of the employees from the Daycare Center will provide you with a baby boy for a week of evenings to care for while the babysitter is present to cover your claim of having both a baby boy and a baby husband. Before you make arrangements for the adult babysitter, you will have created a real nursery for 'your' little baby boy.

I suggest that you begin to use cash to acquire baby furnishings for the baby's nursery from a number of discount stores starting tomorrow. Don't use checks or a credit card since they leave time-stamped records. Since the Daycare worker's own husband underwent the same treatment recently and she has been paying my fee in installments, she'll be glad to help. She will receive a credit for her assistance in your husband's disappearance and can be relied upon to maintain her silence. This is covered under the instructions on page seven when you fill out the Daycare Center's contract and pay the enrollment fees for your fictional baby early next week.

Even the psychologist and Judge will be able to provide a description of your baby hubby's favorite outfit. Sadly, his body will never be found and his untraceable disappearance will languish in the public records. Since you will already have his Full Power of Attorney as well as total control of the estate, you can afford to wait out the seven year period until he is declared legally dead. You can claim his insurance at the end of that period. One word of caution, do not, under any circumstances, raise the value of his insurance policies! If you show a profit by his death, the police will consider you the prime suspect in his disappearance! He will retain the insurance that he himself bought and you'll be satisfied with that and marriage to a rich husband.

Ninety days after your divorce, you can marry your lover and change the last name of the baby to his surname. The petition for the name change is included in the packet. Within five months, your current husband will be a permanent babe in arms and you will be happily married to your new husband. You will have an understanding pediatrician as well as a Daycare Center to assist you with caring for your poor genetically-blighted baby. The total package of service from everyone will total approximately thirty thousand dollars. Is this proposal acceptable to you?", I asked.

"Ohhh yes!", the woman exclaimed in delight, "this is much better than I had hoped for!"

I smiled at her and ushered her out of my studio to await my next visitor.

One month later, she escorted her diapered ex-husband into my studio to sit on my lap. I chuckled as I looked at the huge baby who stood before me. He was wearing shortalls with an adult-sized, lap-shouldered, baby T-shirt underneath. A pacifier was clipped to his bib and he drooled as he sucked his thumb. Somehow his Mommy had managed to locate white baby shoes in adult size. His Mommy had cut his hair in a baby style and had not only shaved his face and arms, but she had exfoliated the of his facial and body hair roots as well. I had no doubt that if I were to undress him and peek into his diaper, I'd see that his pubes were as naked of hair as the day he was born.

A smile came to my face as I imagined how the both the psychologist and the Judge must have evaluated his appearance. If he had gone potty in a leaky diaper in their midst, the resultant growing dark stain on his light blue shortalls would have told them instantly that he was incontinent. My eye could easily see the bulky outline of the diapers he wore beneath his shortalls and I knew that neither the psychologist nor the Judge could have missed it. Once his bowels moved and the "poop hit the fan", so to speak, both the psychologist and Judge must have fallen over themselves to declare him incompetent.

I examined the packet of documentation to insure that he had been completely stripped of his legal rights before his "Mommy" had brought him in for treatment. She had followed my instructions to the letter, I noted with a smile. Then I turned to address the big baby before me, saying, "My! What a cutiepie you are! Can you tell me your name, baby?"

"!", he bubbled happily in response to my question. I smiled and said to his Mommy, "Help me get his shortall and T-shirt off before he sits on my lap. I have a large lap pad that he can sit on in his dipees while you take off his shoes.

While we unsnapped the hems of his legs all the way up to his crotch, I gave her directions to the nursery. Soon he was clad in nothing but diapers and his baby shoes. I draped the lap pad over my lap and motioned for his Mommy to guide him over to sit on my lap. After he sat down, she removed his shoes and socks, then she decamped to the nursery to await the arrival of her new baby boy.

A few minutes later, I entered the nursery carrying a naked nine-month-old baby boy to be handed over into the care of his Mommy. She grinned immensely as I gently transferred him into her arms so she could diaper and dress him on the nursery's changing table.

She left happily with a thickly diapered, cooing infant in her arms. Later that afternoon I destroyed his clothes and shoes in a commercial incinerator that I lease, then emptied the ashes and dumped them late that afternoon at low tide on a deserted part of the sea shore. I watched the tide come in and allow the endless sea to cover, then sweep away the last remaining artifacts of a man who had returned to the days of his milk teeth.

I mused to myself before the expanse of the deep azure ocean at sunset before I got back in the car and drove home, "Whatever he was before his transformation into babyhood, he is completely gone now! He'll have a loving Mommy just like all my other clients!" I chuckled in satisfaction of a job well done as I started the tuned engine of my baby blue sports car and invisibly roared off into the night.

And they lived happily ever after!

Sweetheart, that's the end of Mama Jenn's story called "A Childish Husband's Fate Within a Conspiracy of Love."...Close your huge baby eyes so you can go nite-nite!...Now, now, Sugar, don't make a face, it's time to go beddie-bye for Mama Jenn!...That's a gooood baby!...Sweet dreams, Sugarplum!...Don't let the bedbugs bite!...<Mama Jenn gives the diapered baby a maternal kiss on the forehead as she tucks the baby in for the last time and raises the side of the crib.> Mama whispers lovingly to the baby in the crib before she leaves, "Goodnight, Sweetiepie, Mama loves you dearly, oh yes she does! Yes, she does indeed!"

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