The Homecoming


I was returning home after 6 years overseas. I was 28 and had eloped 5 years earlier with a guy that my parents had not approved of. My parents were very straight and strict and in fact they had forbidden me to see him, which meant I had to sneak out after dark to meet with him. We then eloped, got married and moved to France where he had family. Things went well for a few years, but with freedom from my family, I began to party big time. I slimmed down and spent a lot of time and money on my looks. I had grown my hair long and although its natural color was reddish brown, I had blonde highlights put through it. I had never been able to wear my hair long or colored when I lived at home as my mother didn’t approve of it. I spent a lot of time in the solarium and gymnasium and had developed my body beautifully. I had actually had breast implants to set off my looks. I also did a bit of modeling for my husband’s company. More and more men paid attention to me and I began to flaunt my looks, which ended in affairs. Eventually my husband found out about my affairs and asked for a divorce. With his wealth and influence I was left alone in France with no money and my friends deserted me. In desperation I contacted my brother and asked if I could come home. It took a few days for him to convince my parents, but they finally gave permission.

When I arrived at the airport my brother was there to meet me. His first words were “It’s great to see you Sandy, do you know what you’re in for with mum and dad?” We always got along well and we spoke for ages while we caught up. He drove me straight to my parents’ house. I had worn a floral dress falling below my knees and pulled my half-back-length hair up in a pony tail to tone down my look.

Things were very icy with my parents, as expected, and we didn’t converse much for the first few days, as expected. I did everything I was told and dressed as conservatively as I possibly could. On the 5th day my mother came home from shopping and she and my father called me in to talk. As expected we discussed my eloping and they decided to lay down the rules if I was to stay in their home. As I had no job or money I had to comply.

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As expected the first comment made was on my clothing.

My mother said, “The first thing we need to sort out is your clothes, they are much too revealing for a young lady like yourself. I have done some shopping for you today.” When my mother pulled out the clothes she had a large collection of very plain and full-length dresses. I’d had too much freedom over the past years to really want to give into my mother’s commands. I decided to stand up for myself and snapped, “Shit! I am an adult and can choose my own clothes, I don’t need your boring opinion on what to bloody wear.”

That was enough for my mother – she grabbed me by the hair and dragged me into the bathroom. Before I had a chance to fight back she shoved a cake of soap in my mouth screaming, “No daughter of mine is going to speak like that.” I dragged the soap out and returned with a salvo of expletives calling her “a fuckin’ bitch” She thrust my head into rapidly the filling basin and returned the soap to my mouth shouting, “It’s time I taught you a lesson!”

As I recovered I turned to find my father entering with a chair and some rope. They thrust me into the chair and tied me to it around my stomach and my legs. I was left defenseless.

My mother returned patronizing me by saying, “It’s time we returned back 10 years and started again to see if we can raise our daughter correctly this time. I think you need a change. Let’s start with your clothes. I was going to just make you wear something more appropriate but now I think it will require more than that. Let’s begin by removing those clothes.” My mother used a pair of scissors and cut off my expensive dress. “You won’t be needing these for a few years,” said my mother as she cut off my expensive French lingerie.” I was left there sitting naked. “The first thing we need to do is remove that make-up and those ear-rings, and a young girl like yourself should neither have long fingernails, nor have them painted.”

And she did.

“Next we need to do something with your hair, you know we don’t approve of long hair in this house and young girls don’t put color in their hair. I think a cute little girl’s bob and brown hair will suffice.” I began to fight against my ropes and curse and swear but to no avail. My mother brushed out my long one-length hair so that it fell straight down all around. With no skill or hesitation she scooped up the front and cut in some short bangs just above my eyes. A huge chunk of my beautiful hair fell into my lap and I began to cry. My mother then cut the back and sides into a rough cheek-length bob. When my mother had finished cutting she put a brown rinse through my hair to remove the blonde highlights, saying, “A young girl looks best with brown hair.” Finally my mother blew my hair out with a center part and bangs brushed down. My beautiful hair was gone and I began to sob uncontrollably. I looked 10 years younger as I had been when I was eighteen.

My mother then untied me, had me put on a full-length flannel nightie and sent me to my room, telling me not to come out until I’d learned to act like a real child. I cried uncontrollably for hours to a point where I felt sick. I began to vomit and my mother came to check on me. She rushed me to the bathroom and held me in her arms and patted my head. When I had calmed down she removed a bag from the cupboard I noticed was an enema bag. She had me hold my nightie over my head and spread my legs as she said, “This will help your upset stomach.” She spread my fanny apart and inserted the enema bag and began to fill it with soapy water. She made me stand there for a few minutes as I felt my insides twist and knot. I then rushed to relieve myself. When I was finished I stood and my mother immediately commented that a young girl like myself shouldn’t have such a thick bush. She had me raise my nightie again above my head and before I knew it she had smothered my bush with shaving cream and she had begun to move the razor back and forward as my pubic hairs were rapidly removed. When she had finished, I looked into the mirror and what I saw returning my look was my rapid conversion into a little girl.


For the next couple of months my life was hell, but heaven compared to what was to come. My mother kept me in the house the whole time, I got a spanking whenever I did something wrong and on many occasions my mother used the enema bag. I had my hair trimmed every 2 weeks and my pussy shaved once a week. I tried my hardest to do everything I was told and be a model daughter. Eventually this paid off and my mother started to relax. She took me out shopping, and although I wasn’t allowed to buy my own clothes or wear make-up my mother stopped cutting my hair and shaving my pussy. I still wore very childish clothes however. My quality of life improved for a few months until one day my mother announced she was going back to work part time.

I thought this was going to be good and I was to be left alone, but my mother announced that my cousin Stephie would be babysitting me. I was about to protest but thought better of it. Stephie was eighteen years old and I used to baby-sit her when she was about 11.

My first day with Stephie was the following afternoon when my mother had her first shift. Stephie turned up in the morning, so that my mother could give her instructions. When the doorbell rang I rushed to the door thinking that Stephie and I could become good friends – the first I’d had since my divorce.

“Hello Stephie. I’m your cousin Sandy, do you remember me?”

“Yes I do,” replied Stephie in a strange tone. My mother showed Stephie around, and sat down and set the rules out for her. Stephie was absolutely in charge. I wasn’t to wear any make-up, Stephie was to choose my clothes and above all Stephie was to punish me as she saw fit if I misbehaved.

Well, when my mother left, I tried to have a pleasant chat with Stephie and make friends. This is when she informed me that she had no intention of being my friend and that I obviously had a short memory. It was then she reminded me that when I used to baby sit her for 2 years I made her life hell by overstepping my authority and spanking me, tying her up and on one occasion cutting her beautiful long hair and telling her mother she did it herself. I was stunned and my stomach started to knot. I said, “I didn’t do that!”

She said, “Well for that lie it will require a spanking.” I slapped her and swore at her. We began to fight and I slapped, bit and punched her. This went on for a few minutes and then she screamed “Wait till your mother hears about this!” I stopped and ran to my room and locked the door. I knew what was to come.

When my mother came home, Stephie explained what happened (in her own terms). My mother was furious. She came into my room grabbed me and dragged me out into the living room. “Stephie, you must learn how to discipline Sandy. I want you to spank her until she’s learned a lesson.” I was shouting at my mother loudly trying to get her to understand exactly what happened, but she wouldn’t listen. “Pull that dress up over your head and remove that underwear, young lady!” she shouted. I knew there was no sense in arguing so I reluctantly did as I was told. I looked up and saw a smirk on Stephie’s face as I slumped over her knee and she began to spank increasingly harder. I began to cry uncontrollably.

I don’t know how many times Stephie spanked me but my now bright red backside hurt like hell. When she stopped my mother asked Stephie if she felt that the spanking would have taught me a lesson. To my horror she answered, “No I think she needs something to remind her of this lesson.” I had no idea what she had in mind until she suggested, “Well, you said she had been acting as a child, Aunt Helen. I don’t think she has been all that mature. I think she acts like a baby and should be treated like one. Babies don’t have any hair. I think Sandy should lose hers until she learns to behave.”

“You’re in charge,” my mother replied. With that my mother grabbed me and forced me into the chair whilst Stephie tied me down. Stephie lectured me as she picked up a set of clippers and began to drive them through my hair. I cried uncontrollably as hair fell all around me and I was soon turned to stubble, my once beautiful hair gone. My mother then lathered my head and Stephie transformed my stubble into a bald head. Stephie then moved on and completely shaved my pussy, which had started to grow back. My mother made me pick up every strand of my shaved hair and place it in the bin. This was a very humiliating experience

Well the next 4 weeks were sheer hell whenever Stephie looked after me. We kept our distance, but when my mother returned home Stephie would make up a lie and I would get spankings, which were becoming more dramatic as Stephie began to use a wooden spoon. My mother also resorted to enema bags and every 2 days Stephie was allowed to shave my head and pubic region. Stephie used to tease me during the day complimenting me on my hairstyle and playing with her beautiful long curly blonde hair all the time. As each day went by I became more and more resigned to my future and I began to cooperate as Stephie punished me.

It was about 4 weeks later when Stephanie told me when my mother returned home that Stephie would tell her that I had broken her antique vase (actually Stephie broke it on purpose). I pleaded with her that I would do anything for her if she didn’t tell. “Anything?” she said

“Yes,” I replied

“Well I am doing an assignment at beauty school and I need a guinea pig to try a few things on. Will you agree to be my guinea pig?”

I agreed not knowing what she had in mind.

For about 2 weeks Stephie worked around my body with a small machine she had, describing that she was enriching skin cells to help restore moisture. For 2 weeks I didn’t get a spanking or a shave yet my hair wasn’t really growing. It was then that Stephie announced, “Because you cut my hair when I was young, I have just completed an electrolysis on your entire body. You will never have any hair again.” I sobbed and Stephie sent me to my room.

It was then that Stephie told my mother about the vase. My mother was furious. Stephie commented that it seemed I was never going to grow up and maybe I was and should be a baby forever. My mother wasn’t sure what she meant but gave her permission to punish me any way she saw fit. Stephie had an idea and explained, “I will need to take Sandy out for a week or so, but be assured when she returns she will be changed.” I was beyond thinking for myself now and I changed into my frilly pink child’s sailors suit, long white socks and shoes. The only thing that was missing was my hair. We walked through the streets as people looked at me strangely

Stephie took me to what looked like a doctor’s studio. I was beyond caring and the ability to make my own decisions. I arrived in a suite and when the doctor came in he had me remove all my clothes. He injected me with something and as I was drifting into unconsciousness I heard the doctor say, “So you want me to remove both breasts to a flat chest?” He added, “I don’t understand young ones today. A year ago it was big boobs, now it’s no chest. Oh well, it keeps me in business.”

I was kept sedated for 5 days until my wounds had healed. When I awoke although distraught about losing my breasts, Stephie had broken me and I could no longer fight or be emotional. The door opened and another doctor arrived with a trolley. He said, “Open your mouth and give me a look.” With that he injected a local anesthetic into many areas of my mouth. One tooth at a time he removed every one of my beautiful white teeth. I was left toothless like a little baby.

Stephie approached me and was playing with something around my waist. She asked me to stand up and there in front of the mirror I was transformed into a baby girl. No hair, no teeth and a completely flat chest and the diaper Stephie had just placed on me. Stephie whispered something in my ear. “That will teach you for abusing me as a child, my ‘Baby Cousin Sandy'”

My mother, although shocked at first, was very happy with the punishment Stephie had bestowed on me. She was happy to have her baby daughter back (forever). I ate baby’s food and messed my diapers like any other baby. But unlike other babies I got a daily spanking from my younger cousin Stephie. She actually started to bring her friends around who paid money to watch Stephie humiliate me.

I was now my mother’s baby daughter and my cousin’s slave


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