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by DeeDee
I was in my early teens, just entering High School. Probably because of my religion , I endured nearly constant verbal and physical abuse from many of the other students. I sought desperately to escape the incessant browbeating. For whatever reason, I did not fight back or even attempt to defend myself. The lack of the ability to do so ultimately cost me a proper education.
One day, in a garden apartment complex not far from my own home, I discovered a row of attached common garages. One of the spaces (first in line) was being utilized for the storage of personal items, rather than an auto. It was fenced off from the other spaces by chicken wire. The cinder block wall provided the other side of the storage space. Definitely a plus since I eventually used this space to create my escape scenario.
My curiosity was arroused. The escape I so sought was right in front of me. There was an opening in the wire just barely large enough for me to crawl through, so I went in. As a side note, I found a matching piece of wire to close up the hole while I was inside my space. It would reduce the chances of curious kids who might also want to look around.
There it was, in the rear corner of the space. Nirvana! My escape! My home away from "Hell"! The carriage was gorgeous! A Taj Mahal on wheels. It was obviously custom made. It had large, bright chrome wheels, chrome and pinstriped embelishments all over the deep, blue coach body. The interior treatment was truly lavish. It was lined completely with baby-blue satin quilting, including the underside of the hood. The linens, quilts, and pillow were all in white satin. As a side note, too bad the color scheme wasn't for a girl infant. As a crossdresser, I would have enjoyed the escape more. Also stored nearby were the rest of the baby's wardrobe..... diapers, footed sleepers, bonnets, mittens, bottles, pacifiers, etc. It was plainly obvious that the wardrobe would not fit a teenager, but there were sufficient extra bottles and pacifiers to satisfy me, (after a thorough cleaning, of course).
The following day, I returned to "Paradise" with the freshly cleaned pacifiers, and a couple of bottles of juice (for some reason I hated milk). Once again, I crawled through the opening, and, with barely enough room, I carefully and quietly turned the carriage around to face the opening towards the rear wall. A large quilt covered the carriage to protect it from dust and dirt. The blanket provided an additional margin of safety. If it appeared undisturbed, chances were, I wouldn't be found out. The carriage had apparently been in storage for quite some time. The stage was now set for my numerous "escapes from Hell!"
I just managed to curl up in the carriage without disturbing the large quilt, pull several quilts over me, and began contentedly sucking on the first bottle of juice. That did it! Instantly, I was overwhelmed with a feeling of peace and tranquility. For the first time since my real infancy, I felt like one.
While in the carriage, I took the precaution of wearing freshly laundered clothes and no shoes so as not to soil the carriage interior in any way. Probably what added to the peaceful feelings were the remaining scents of the baby oils, powders, and carriage interior. They brought back the most pleasant memories of my own infancy.
The string of escapes nearly came to an abrupt halt one Friday afternoon. Many of us are very familiar with "tempting fate, or, "going to the well once too often." I had just barely settled down in the carriage, and was beginning to nurse contentedly on a bottle of juice, when a group of young children decided to play ball right outside in the driveway. Perhaps the carriage belonged to one of them? The ball got away from the kids and rolled into the space alongside "mine". Fortunately it didn't make it through the chicken wire. The kids came inside looking for the wayward ball. I froze in terror, causing the carriage springs to squeak momentarily. One of the kids exclaimed "I think someone's in here!" I froze again! Would one of them call for adult help, or worse yet, the Police? By that time the ball was located and they returned outside to play some more. For the time being, I had to remain completely motionless in what was now " a prison without bars."
Cramps were beginning to set in, as the carriage obviously would not comfortably contain my teenaged frame. Just over an hour had passed since settling in to the carriage. I had not spent this length of time in it on previous occasions. If I were found out, there was just no way to explain my presence.
Finally the afternoon turned into early evening, but the cover of nightfall was still a couple of hours away because of Daylight Savings Time. The children were finally summoned home for dinner and the night, and I was once again in seventh heaven. I had just finished the bottle of juice and had switched over to a large hollow nipple pacifier (pinholed and filled with sugar).
Many of the residents had put away their autos for the night and closed and padlocked the overhead doors. There were one or two spaces still empty at the far end of the garage. The doors could not be opened from the inside. I felt a bit more secure, but somewhat uneasy. There was to be no escape if all of the doors were locked for the night.
Quickly gathering up my wits, it was back to sleep in fantasyland! The first bottle of juice was finished and I now had a mouth full of pacifier.There was a second bottle of juice available, but I didn't dare to start it. What if Nanny Nature came a knocking? There were obvoiusly no restroom facilities close at hand. Depends hadn't yet been invented!
Hours later I awoke, startled, not knowing what time it was. Total darkness and, except for crickets, an eerie silence greeted me as I peered out from under the big quilt. My worst fears had been realized. All of the doors were now locked . I was indeed trapped. I had slept so soundly and peacefully for what I estimated to be about 8 hours, that escape "WAS IMPOSSIBLE" until someone came for their auto. Would there still be sufficient darkness to make a clean exit?
A break came shortly after awakening to the new dilemma. A door was opened at the far end af the garage. I heard the car start and be driven out. Thankfully, the owner was only going to the store and would be returning shortly, so he only closed the door and didn't put the lock back on. Right next to the garage was a row of high, dense hedges. It was also dark enough to exit undetected.
A most humbling experience to say the least. Fortunately, close calls such as this were a very rare occurrence. My parents occasionally inquired into my overnight escapades. I managed to come up with plausible explanations to satisfy their curiosity. They never questioned me beyond them.
Another expression you should be familiar with is "A pinch to grow an inch." Well, my "Pinch" has yielded many pounds and inches. As a teenager, fitting comfortably within the carriage's confines was quite a chore in itself. Now, it's absolutely impossible; not even with a shoehorn! Does anyone know of the existance of a carriage as gorgeous as the one I described that will safely and comfortably handle a 200+ lb, 5' 7" Baby DeeDee? Are plans or drawings available to construct my own?
A recurring fantasy that prompted me to write my story is as follows....
Picture this! Outdoors, in a public park, on a delightful mid to late autumn day, I am in my fantasy carriage (this time, of sufficient size to be totally comfortable). I have been powdered, diapered (or DEPENDS), in frilly panties, footed sleepers, a bonnet and mittens. All in pink! The carriage interior accoutrements were identical except that this time the satin quilting matched my outfit. All else (bedding and linens) were of white satin. The oversized nipple of a "Big" bottle of juice had just been placed in my mouth. My Nanny is sitting on a park bench, gently rocking the carriage to put me to sleep. As a real infant, I rarely ever had crying fits, so getting me to sleep wasn't difficult at all. My nanny even sang some lullabys.
A young woman passerby stops and notices the curiously oversized carriage. She comments on it and inquired if she could take a look at the baby girl within. My nanny said "Sure, just try not to wake her!" The young lady peered through the bug mesh at the already peacefully asleep baby. She commented "Oh my! She's beautiful", and continued on her way. There was never a mention as to the fact that the "baby" was actually a 50+ year old adult.
Reliving the fantasy, either by reading about it, or better yet, actually experiencing it, would provide me with several things. Temporary escapes from the pressures of adulthood, and a unique opportunity to meld my crossdressing with the desire to be an adult baby girl. During the scenario, I would very much like to be treated in exactly the same manner my mom tended to me as an infant, including the possibility of being breast-fed! I am certainly not desirous of being humiliated, or placed in bondage as most infantilists are. I treat it as very pleasurable, harmless, however out of the ordinary.
END