To experience infantilism, the sexual fetish that involves being diapered, powdered, spanked and otherwise treated like half a man.




State your hypothesis in the form of a prediction that can be verified by the results of the experiment.

When I was told that I'd be spending a few hours getting pampered, I assumed that my editor had finally caved and would let me have a say in the type of assignments I get. I soon learned that he was speaking literally. I guess being a baby was fun, but, to tell you the truth, I can't really remember — and neither can you. Sure, avoiding the rigors of chewing, staying awake for less than an hour at a time and not leaving the room to poop sounds like fun on paper, but is it sexy?


Please list all the materials required for this experiment (including, if applicable, how they were obtained).

Baby wipe (one)
Diaper (one)
Pacifier (one)
Rattle (one)
Bib (one)
Bonnet (one)
Pureed carrots (one jar of)




In this portion of your report, you must describe step-by-step what you did in your lab. It should be specific enough that someone who has not seen the lab can follow the directions and recreate the same lab.

Déjà vu? — Once again I find myself in Chelsea before noon, addressing a female disciplinarian as "Miss" while she craftily tinkers with my bare undercarriage. But it's safe to say that my previous sexual explorations had never led me in this Oedipal direction before.

Adam, the Nerve photography intern, and I arrived at Mistress Caress's studio just a smidgen before midday. Tall, blonde and stunningly beautiful, Mistress Caress doesn't look much like your archetypal mother figure, but she has to be many things to many people. The operation that bears her name caters to the full spectrum of folks who want to relinquish control in one way or another. Among other tutorials, she offers slut training, genital experimentation, forced feminization and foot worship. Treating grown men like babies has also become a large part of her repertoire.

Mistress Caress introduced me to her small team of assistants, then led me to a red-and-black room fitted with medieval-looking torture-and-bondage devices, harnesses and dildos. Frightening Gregorian chants played softly in the background. Even Anton LaVey wouldn't decorate his kid's bedroom like this. I was asked to strip naked and lie on a four-poster bed replete with black vinyl mattress and mirrored ceiling. I coquettishly shrugged out of my streetwear, unfolded a disposable baby-changing mat — made from same stuff they make diapers from — and laid it flat on the bed.

I lay there preserving my modesty with a palm while Caress left the room to prepare. Naked as the day I was born (although it felt more so as Adam snapped away at close range), I started to wonder whether the idea is to lull oneself into thinking that one actually is a baby — or whether being conscious that you're an adult is all part of the fun? The satanic-looking décor and big sticker listing accepted credit cards made it hard to convince myself that I was a bona fide ankle-biter in a nursery room. Mistress Caress strode back into the room to get things started in earnest.