Swaddled like a baby
Once, during the holidays, my mom sent me to live with her aunt.
The aunt was a 40-year-old woman, looking neat and well-groomed. She had a domineering, strong character and, apparently because of this, despite her age, she was unmarried.
She received me without much greeting, led me into her room, briefly explained her requirements for me—not to touch any of her things with my hands, not to do anything without her permission, to obey her everywhere. I said I understood everything, but she kept repeating her demands several times until I finally gave her my word that I would obey her.
At first, everything was normal—Aunt
Tanya fed me, let me watch TV, read newspapers so I wouldn't be bored. But she fed me strangely. When I sat down at the table, she would dish up the porridge, but wouldn't let me eat it myself; instead, she would sit behind me and, with a spoon herself, take the porridge and put it in my mouth."Open your mouth, Alyosha!" she would say to me, "Eat..."
And she fed me like a little baby. I felt very awkward about this and at first I resisted and said she didn't need to do that. To which Aunt Tanya would say sternly that I had to obey her in everything, as I had promised. There was no way out; in the end, I thought, no one sees this and no one will find out that I'm being fed like a child.
After finishing the feeding, Aunt Tanya wiped my mouth with a napkin and ordered me to say "Thank you" for the food. I said "Thank you" and went to wash my hands.
All evening I read some magazines, trying not to show that I was a bit stunned by the recent shameful feeding for an adult boy... By evening, I said I was hungry again and it would be nice to have a snack. To which Aunt Tanya said she would arrange everything now, but first I needed to go to the bedroom.
I went into the bedroom and saw a large pink bed with lace sheets and bedspreads spread on it. Suddenly, I felt Aunt Tanya sneak up behind me and lift me into her arms. I was a very light boy and it was no trouble for Aunt Tanya to hold me in her arms.
"Let me go!" I said, "What are you doing?"
"Shh, shh... Don't shout, Alyosha, calm down."
Aunt Tanya then laid me on the bed, placing me on some strange sheets. Then, she began to roll up these sheets, wrapping me in the sheets in many layers, tightly sealing them into an "envelope." When I was practically immobilized, I finally guessed that these weren't sheets, but real baby swaddling cloths. This thought horrified me and I screamed for Aunt Tanya to let me go, and started trying to break free from the swaddling. But Aunt Tanya was already tightly wrapping my cocoon of swaddling cloths with a large pink ribbon, fixing the swaddling immobile, tying the ribbon in several knots, and then finishing the wrapping with a large pink bow.
"There you go, my little one! You'll be a good boy..."
Everything would have been not so bad if I hadn't suddenly started crying, further strengthening my resemblance to a helpless infant.
"Now, now, my little one, don't cry," said Aunt Tanya, "I'll bring you a pacifier and feed you now, since you asked, you're hungry, right?"
In Auntie's hands was a large baby bottle with milk poured into it and a nipple at the bottle's neck. She shoved this nipple into my mouth and ordered me to suck the milk. I slowly started sucking the nipple. Auntie stroked my hair, calming me so I wouldn't cry anymore. After drinking a little milk, I calmed down and the tears stopped. I thought that if no one sees that I look like a baby except Aunt Tanya, then there's nothing terrible about it yet. This thought comforted me a little and I drank the milk without particularly resisting.
When I drank everything without a trace, Aunt Tanya pulled the nipple out of my mouth and asked if I needed more or if I had drunk enough. I said no.
Then Aunt Tanya lifted my cocoon of swaddling into her arms and rocked me in her arms like a baby. Then she laid me in a crib that stood next to the bed. (At first, I didn't guess it was a crib). Making sure I was comfortable lying in it, and adjusting all the folds of the swaddling, Aunt Tanya took a pacifier (without milk) out of the closet, shoved it into my mouth, and told me to gradually fall asleep. The pacifier was attached with an elastic band to my head and I couldn't spit it out at will.
"Sleep, my little one," said Aunt Tanya and left, turning off the light.
At first, I tried to break free from the swaddling, thinking that as soon as Auntie left, I would succeed. But no such luck! The swaddling was wrapped very securely and all my attempts were completely futile. I couldn't spit out the pacifier either. So, I had to suck on it involuntarily. I didn't understand why Aunt Tanya was doing this to me, maybe these were unusual methods of her upbringing? In the end, after struggling with unsuccessful attempts to break free, I closed my eyes and fell asleep.
In the morning, I woke up to Aunt Tanya's voice:
"Ooh, coochie coochie coo!! Wake up, my little one! I brought you food."
The feeding was just like for babies. First, as yesterday, I drank my portion of milk from the bottle with the nipple. Then, slightly lifting my cocoon of swaddling, Auntie started feeding me porridge with spoons from her hand. After eating the porridge, I was again placed in the crib, and a pacifier was put in my mouth.
Eating is one thing, but how do I go to the toilet? I thought when I needed to pee. Since I was sucking on a pacifier in my mouth, I couldn't tell Auntie about it, and instead of words, I started mooing and crying.
Auntie immediately caringly took the pacifier out of my mouth and asked what was wrong.
"I want to pee," I said.
"You can do it right in the swaddling. You're wearing good diapers that don't let moisture through," said Aunt Tanya, smiling, and shoved the pacifier back into my mouth, not even letting me answer anything.
I tried to protest at first and squirm in the swaddling, trying to free myself again, but after about 10 minutes, realizing the futility of the attempts, I had to give up. I peed right in the diapers. Wincing with embarrassment, I started sucking the pacifier more actively, trying to distract myself from the fact that I had wet myself right in the diapers.
About 30 minutes later, Auntie came and asked if I had already done "pee pee"? I nodded my head.
"Good boy, my little one... We'll change the diapers later."
In the evening, I heard voices from the hallway:
"Everything is fine, your son is a very obedient boy and a sweetheart!", "Don't worry, I'm feeding him"—Tanya was saying.
I realized she was talking on the phone with my mom. If only she knew what condition I was in. Or maybe she already knows? Then I listened to Auntie's voice:
"Yes, everything is fine, I'm taking care of him like a child," "Feeding him from a bottle," "Don't worry, everything is fine with us..."—Aunt Tanya was saying to Mom.
I was shocked by what I heard; I couldn't believe that Mom had given me to Aunt Tanya for upbringing, for the purpose of caring for me like a little baby. Although, to be honest, my mom was a very loving mother, very protective and caring about me. She could hardly let me go from her side and at first took me to kindergarten everywhere by the hand on the way there and back, not letting me take a single step on my own. And then exactly the same way, taking me to school for the first 3 grades. When I grew up, she still constantly walked me to school, but no longer holding my hand.
And then, for the summer holidays, Mom sent me to live with Aunt Tanya, which was a completely unnatural step for her. She couldn't let me go further than "a couple of meters" from her before, and then suddenly, for some reason, allowed me to live with Aunt Tanya.
But now I understood at what price she had let me go to her. She must have told Aunt Tanya to take such close care of me, as they care for little babies. To turn me into a nursing baby so that I couldn't take a single step on my own and wouldn't run away anywhere.
Understanding all this, I blushed with shame and started sucking the pacifier even harder. At that moment, Aunt Tanya entered the room.
"Well, little one, how are you feeling?"
Naturally, I couldn't answer anything since I was holding a pacifier in my mouth.
"Not hungry? Your mom is worried about you, that you get food on time. Want some milk?"
I nodded my head, showing that I wanted to. Indeed, I would like to drink a little milk if there's no other food.
"Here!"—Auntie changed my pacifier, giving me a nipple with milk instead of the dummy.
To be honest, drinking milk from a nipple was very unusual and embarrassing. You feel like a baby sucking on a tit... And the milk enters the mouth in small portions. You have to suck harder to drink more milk.
"Finished? Give me the bottle..." said Auntie. "Mom said I should entertain you while you're swaddled. Want me to sing a song?"
I didn't answer anything. I felt awkward answering such a question.
And Auntie began to sing a lullaby in a thin voice, while stroking my hair. After finishing it, Auntie smiled at me and left the room.
Well, if that's what Mom wants, then the situation is at least under her control and I can relax and not worry about anything. In any case, I thought, my situation isn't so bad; I'm being taken care of, fed, treated kindly. The main thing is that my school friends don't find out about me, but no one will tell them, I know that Mom cares about my reputation with others, and she probably told Aunt Tanya to keep all this a secret.
In the evening, after eating food from Auntie's hands and drinking milk from the bottle with the nipple, I felt that I wanted to "go to the toilet" again. Auntie said that the diapers were quite capacious and I could pee in them. I did just that. After that, Auntie started to unswaddle me to change the diapers. (After all, the amount of liquid I was releasing was more than for babies for whom diapers are made) Auntie did everything by the rules, laying me on a changing table, untying the swaddling, unbuttoned the old diapers from me and immediately put on new ones. Then quickly started swaddling me back up. I didn't try to break free, finding myself unswaddled and free for a few seconds—why, if Mom wouldn't let me leave Aunt Tanya's house without her permission anyway. I was immediately swaddled again. It seemed to me even tighter than before. Then I was laid in the crib and given a pacifier.
Bedtime was approaching. I was fed a little milk and put to sleep.
The next day, roughly the same thing as yesterday repeated—feeding milk from a nipple, and food from Auntie's hands. Singing songs for babies, rocking in her arms. Unswaddling and swaddling.
And so I lived with Aunt Tanya all my summer holidays in the role of a nursing infant. This imprint remained in me for the rest of my life and I became excessively submissive and obedient after that.