“Drink voor mij, mijn babytje,” Mrs. Kuiper crooned. “Mama wil dat je je sap drinkt…” She leaned over the playpen in her skin-tight dress, dangling the full bottle of juice, sedatives, and diuretics before Annelise’s unfocused eyes. The months of hypnosis, subliminal audio, and conditioning were finally paying off, she mused with satisfaction. So close now… 

*** Her neighbor Annelise had been spending afternoons helping Mrs. Kuiper around the house for the past few months, and right from the start it had been too good a chance to resist. For years the older lady had wished for a child of her own; she’d been single since her divorce five years ago, and the house was just so lonely… But actual infants were too much trouble, and adoption was such a hassle. So…why not borrow one of the neighbors to play baby for her?

Thus, when Annelise, a bright young college student, had moved into a flat just down the road, Mrs. Kuiper knew her chance had come. Not that she sprung the trap immediately; oh no, she was too clever for that. She’d begun with mild binaural audio playing softly throughout her house, then escalated slowly to meditation and yoga exercises, which she claimed would help the girl de-stress during the exam period. Of course there was more than a little hypnotic instruction in those “relaxing” audio tracks, the effects of which only escalated further when she persuaded Annelise to listen to them at night to relax even more.

Annelise had started waking in a wet bed after only a few weeks, but of course she’d been far too mortified to tell Mrs. Kuiper. Then, of course, the day came that she actually peed her pants during an afternoon yoga session. Mrs. Kuiper, bubbling with glee internally, had expressed only the kindest concern and sympathy, suggesting that the girl should consider using “protection.” At least, so she said, she’d have to insist on it whenever Annelise was over at her place. 

And so the young woman had gone back into diapers - and soon the escalating frequency of accidents forced her to rely on them night and day. The doctors found nothing wrong, and merely repeated Mrs. Kuiper’s advice: keep it under control with “protection,” and it might go away on its own. Annelise was embarrassed, of course, but what could she do? Not once did she even begin to suspect that Mrs. Kuiper might have had a hand in it…or at least, not until it was far too late…


“Kom nu, mijn schattig babytje! Baby’s moeten drinken… Ze moeten hun luier plassen…” Annelise’s confused, blank gaze slowly rose to the bottle, then up to Mrs. Kuiper’s maternal smile. Her mind, weakened into compliance by wave after wave of repeated hypnotic instruction, scarcely comprehended anymore where or who she was. But juice was good. Baby? Yes, that was her. Yummy. Baby drink bottle.

She assented - or rather, her body assented. Her mind was too far gone to do anything but aimlessly echo the instructions that now pervaded every moment of her conscious and subconscious existence. Baby. Drink. Baby. Wet. Good baby. Good babytje. Her mouth wobbled open, accepted the nipple, closed around it. Reflexes kicked in, primitive suckling reflexes: the remnants of her drugged and hypnotized mind obeying the most basic instincts she had left. To drink, to sleep, to mindlessly, automatically soil her diaper…

“Zo’n goede kleine baby!” She scarcely heard Mrs. Kuiper’s delighted coos anymore, lost as she was in her empty state of infantile bliss. She was drinking. She was wetting once again. She was a good baby.

Image Credit: DutchDame.com

Please don’t remove my caption; if you do, may Montezuma’s revenge strike you down.

(P.S. Sorry for the formatting and typo issues! Should be fixed now.)