Little Miss Muffet’s Creche for Babies

[antonia]

Chapter 6 Tommy goes to deeper depths

The staff were clearly thrilled with the way in which Tom had been regressing and his fast loss of control over his bladder was considered outstanding. Unlike most candidates who raged and fought the treatments, Tom was subservient and relatively placid. They heaped love and praise on him as they changed his wet nappies and noted with satisfaction that the back of his nappy had received a small deposit.

Diane came in to see him just as they were pulling up some wool tights over his bulky nappies and settling him in to his baby dress with all its bows and frills. He was anxiously looking for something and beginning to fidget and fret. She spotted his now much loved dummy on the high chair and retrieved it.

“Do you have some ribbon and a nappy pin I could have?” asked Diane of one of the nurses “I can pin his do-di to his bib so that he won’t lose it.” The bib they brought was thicker and fluffier that his old one because they realised that he was a big dribbler. Diane affixed his dummy to the ribbon and made it safe. “Do you want your dum-dum Tommykins?” she asked knowing full well that he was desperate to have it back. “You’ll have to give me a kiss first though!”

Tommy at that moment in time hated Diane more than any other person on earth, she had put him in this intolerable position. To give her a kiss was to forgive and he was in no mood to give her that satisfaction. He vigorously shook his head and Diane waved the soother in his face with the ribbon fluttering beneath it.

“No problem” she retorted “I am sure they will give you a new dummy if I ask them nicely, because nobody is going to listen to a snotty little toddler, are they? Can you take the risk that they will not give you a new one, because you refused to give Mummy a little kiss?” Tommy looked panicked and although his nappy had only been changed a few minutes ago he felt it warm up as he wet himself involuntarily. Once again, he felt himself tear up. Little did he realise that he had a coc-ktail of female hormones coursing through his body that were turning him into a total wimp. He decided to relent and pursed his lips in her direction. Diane pecked him on the lips and kissed him on his forehead.

“What do you say?” she asked as she pinned the dummy to his bib with a pink tipped nappy pin. She offered the dummy to his lips and he took it eagerly.

“Fank oo Mummy” he spluttered grateful for the return of his beloved do-di. Diane adjusted the little bow in his hair and then put her hand under the high chair tray to feel his nappy. She slipped a finger beneath the elastic leg band of his plastic pants and felt that he was damp but not wet. A small spurt of wee from his little appendage onto her finger sent a shiver through her that sent a wave of yearning into her own pants and she felt her sex grow wet with excitement. The dominant feeling she had over her regressing little Tommykins was electric and her face and neck started to blush and redden. Celia looked at her daughter with raised eyebrows as she realised what was happening. Diane kissed Tom on the cheek and beat a hasty retreat to ladies toilet where she rushed into a booth and rubbed herself to a succession of multiple orgasms.

In the meantime Tommy had been taken out of his high chair and put in a stroller to take him to see his next stop which was the psychologist. Dr Cynthia Allen was not only a fully qualified psychologist but also an accomplished hypnotist and psychotherapist. It was wonderful that Tommy was wetting himself without any sign of restraint on his part, but this might only be transient, if he should manage to gather himself together and try to reverse all that had passed.

“Hello Tommy, I’m Dr Alan and I am going to make sure that you are happy and content while you visit us here. You might be worried that you are wetting yourself without really having any control, but this is perfectly normal.”

Tom wondered how on earth such an infantile act could be normal.

“Your Mummy and Grandma love you very much and want you to be happy. They know that you were having problems as a grown up, fighting with the girls and having problems making relationships with the chaps at work and the club. They found out that there is a more simple life that would suit you, where there are no stresses, no need to impress anybody, no need to look macho or strong, but a place where you could be the lovely person that lives inside you.”

Tom listened and looked at Dr Alan with intense concentration.

“In this place we have lots of people like you, some want to be little girls, some want to be little boys, some want to be like children, some want to be like toddlers and others want to be like babies. They talked to your Mummy Joanne a lot and she said that growing up at school you had lots of problems and were so stressed that you started to wet the bed again and she had to put you back in nappies at night time on more than one occasion. On one night you were so stressed out at going back to school at the end of the summer holidays that you had an accident in your pyjamas and did a poo-poo. She offered to put you back in nappies but you refused, but inside you really wished that you had accepted her offer and worn them.”

Tom felt a little tear run down his cheek, he had forgotten the actual story of how and why his accident had happened.

“So, today we are helping you to get rid of all that stress. There is nothing we can force you to do and we wouldn’t want to force you to do anything that you wouldn’t want to do.” She laughed at her tongue twister and Tommy smile back from behind his dummy which was bobbing back and forth quite furiously. “You are now back in nappies to help you get rid of the stress and we have been looking very carefully at you and think that this is what you want. You are being a very good baby and wetting yourself quite freely and we believe that this making you feel a lot better about yourself. We even think that you quite like having the odd accident in the back of your nappy and doing a stinky? Yes, you do! Admit it; you like the feeling of a poo pushing out in the back of your nappy – and this is perfectly alright because that it what babies do. It is what babies are expected to do. You like to feel it sagging in the back of your pants when you stand up, dragging down into the seat of your terry nappy.” Tom looked embarrassed but had to nod quietly.

[Baby Mac]

Really creative stuff please keep going

[antonia]

I am working on the next three chapters and should have another ready for tomorrow!

[antonia]

Chapter 7 The end is in sight

Dr Alan looked at the rather compliant Tommy sitting in his high chair suc-king on his dummy carefully listening to all the things that she told him. She pulled an hexagonal silver pendant from within her blouse and Tom’s eyes immediately picked up on the twinkle and sparkle as it rotated in her hand. He was an excellent subject and within a few minutes she had dropped him into an exceptionally deep level of hypnosis. It was not her intention to try and change anything that was already within his acceptance but to completely reinforce that being a baby was exactly the right thing for him. She asked him at a very subconscious level whether he enjoyed being a little infant, whether he was happy using his nappies and dummy like a toddler and whether he ever wanted to be a grown up ever again.

She realised that there would also be the possibility that Tommy might come to his senses and try and reverse his situation and to help avoid this she implanted a trigger phrase that would reassert his will to remain as he now was.

The relationship between his Grandma Celia and Mummy Diane were also explored and she wanted to enforce the love that they felt for him was genuine and that he would realise this through the love and cuddles that they would bestow on him. She explained that they were not responsible for making him a baby, but that they had acted as a conduit for him to realise his deepest dreams. Bending the truth would make Tommy much more comfortable with his current situation and far less likely to rebel.

She brought his back to the reality of being fully awake and Tommy appeared content and happy sitting in his now very wet nappy and suc-king his dummy. He was returned to his viewing of the special videos wearing his bonnet and listening to the dialogue with intent concentration. He enthusiastically interacted with the nannies and babies shown and answering the questions put to him from the specially crafted film.

The end of the week was fast approaching and the Little Miss Muffet’s Creche for Babies had certainly delivered on their first promise to make Tommy nappy dependent. He was changed in to clean nappies and put in a sweet pink bubble romper trimmed in lace around the legs and arms. A pale pink matinée jacket was put on him and his reins with the tinkling bells fitted over the top, before a large white terry bib trimmed in pink lace was put round his neck as his pink dummy was inserted. Two nurses supported him by holding his hands as he waddled bow-legged with a huge set of nappies bulging out in his pink bubble suit to the waiting Miss Muffet minivan.

He arrived home to be greeted by Diane and Celia who ushered him to his high chair set up in the kitchen to feed him his bottle before putting him down for a nap. It was a top of the range, beautifully padded and very comfortable seat for him and he was helped in and fully restrained by a secure harness, once his walking reins had been removed and hung up on a hook in the hall.

Diane slipped a finger inside his plastic pants to check his nappy and announced that he was only a little damp and would ‘keep’ for a little while longer. The nurse who had accompanied him left some tubs of ‘vitamins’ for him to take. One was a diuretic to encourage a good flow of urine, another was a sedative to keep him calm and unstressed, while another was to ensure that he would sleep more hours than he was normally used to. The last tablets were to make him a little disconnected, and were based on a cannabis derivative that broke the response time between senses and actions – when he moved his hand it would be a millisecond or so away from where he expected and this would have the effect of making him appear a bit clumsy and uncoordinated.

The nurse reminded them that a good supply of bottles was important if Tommy was to remain hydrated. He could use sippy cups if they wanted, but considering his love of dummy nipples it might be nicer for him to use the more infantile bottles.

Tommy kicked his legs in his new high chair and suc-ked happily on his new bottle filled with rosehip syrup and vitamin C drink with a hint of sedative to make him want a session in his new cot for a good nap in half an hour or so. The creche minivan left and the two women descended on Tommy eager to play with their new toy.

“Who’s a good baby for his Mummy then?” asked Diane giggling as she looked at the big overgrown toddler sat in the high chair with both hands on his feeding bottle that was tipped up to finish off the last 30ml left in the bottom. His little legs clad in pink woollen tights and a pair of booties kicked gently back and forth. He was still wearing the pink bonnet that was trimmed with pink ribbons, little roses and pink faux fur. It framed his face beautifully keeping his almost bald head of fuzzy baby hair snug and warm.

Celia had in her hand an MP3 player that was connected by Bluetooth to the earphones cleverly embedded in the soft woollen sides of his bonnet and Tommy was listening to nursery rhymes that provided rhythm to his waggling legs. Underneath the babyish songs and quite subliminal voice was praising him for wetting in his nappies and reminding him continuously how wonderful it was to forget all about toilets and potties and just let go whenever he felt the urge. Every so often the voice would remind him how much his Grandma and Mummy loved him. The voice told him that he might still be a little bit cross about being made to be a baby again, but that if he soiled his nappy then that would make them prove just how much they loved him. A dirty nappy would prove beyond doubt that he was really loved in his new role.

He suc-ked out the last of the juice and his bottle made a slurping noise. The two women clapped and told him how clever he was. He let go of the bottle and it clattered off the tray of his high chair and fell to the floor. In a trice he had found his dummy on the end of the ribbon and plugged it into his mouth and began suc-king with gusto. He bounced up and down in his chair in time to the wheels of the bus go round and round. The harness allowed for little movement and he began to feel a bit claustrophobic. He struggled against the straps and tried to open the catch at the front that was restraining him. It was all in vain and he began to grumble, he put all his energy into wriggling this way and that, and as he was struggling and pushing, his bowel thought it was an invitation to fill his nappy. For the first time in his new status he began to have a tantrum and he threw all his efforts into bouncing up and down, while grunting and pushing against anything that was keeping him pinned into his high chair.

“Want out” he managed to push out through gritted teeth. His wife and mother-in-law watched him clearly amused and were both grinning. “Let me out” he spluttered past his dummy, trying to use his arms to push against the arm rests of his plush and luxurious chair. He made one last effort and suddenly felt a movement pass his prostate. He was rewarded with an erection and his pathetic little sissy stick swelled within the confines of his wet nappy. The strap that ran between his legs pressed against him and he renewed his efforts pushing and bouncing, grunting and groaning as the need to eliminated the load from his bowels slowly forced its was into the secure tight confines of his beautiful soft nappy. He felt his sexual excitement build to a crescendo and he ejaculated with an almighty climax at the very moment the huge log forced its way into the back of his pants. He bounced and bounced, enjoying the warm mass in his seat and the slippy mess in the front leading to a final climax of his bladder cutting loose and he completely finished off his nappy in spectacular style.

He fell back exhausted, a bead of sweat dripped down his forehead, his bonnet was all askew, his bib was half way around his neck and his dummy was hanging out of his mouth, slobber and dribble falling away from the mouth guard and dripping onto his bib.

Diane watched the degrading and humiliating performance being put on by her husband and was dripping juices into her panties that needed urgent attention. She sat on a dining room chair next to him, hoisted up her skirt and unashamedly rubbed her clitoris to a mind-blowing orgasm under the table. Her mother looked a little shocked until she realised that she too was feeling a little more than excited by the spectacle of her son-in-law’s debasement.

It took a good few minutes before everybody settled down, even Celia had to go and attend to some urgent business! Everybody needed a fresh set of underwear that moment.

[antonia]

Nearly at the end of my story now, but I am adding two chapters today. Sadly, there is no more written after this set, so it might be a good few days until the next/last chapter, so I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 8 Talk training

He would spend a few days at home equilibrating, then after that he would begin to attend the creche a couple of times a week and begin to make some new friends and start his Baby craft lessons. The courses he had been registered for were; the baby talk improvement class, the baby play class and finally, the baby time schedule that was designed to introduce naps and sleep time schedules that would have to be relearnt.

The trouble with being a grown up is that they do not have a huge amount to learn and so the brain does not have to work so hard and so therefore does not tire. In an infant, there is continual barrage of learning, from speech learning, understanding, and using their senses and recognition learning. There is also a huge physical development and a huge expenditure in energy flapping about moving limbs, toddling or crawling depending on the age of the infant.

The creche developed a room where the senses were swamped with all manner of things that an adult would be hard pressed to cope with. Bonnets had hidden earphones built in to them and this would play music and speech continually. Foreign languages were found to be very helpful especially if the stories were interesting and they wanted to understand what was being said. The floors were moving like a ship in a swell so that they continually had to adjust to keep their balance. The lighting went from bright to dim with colours altering the whole time. It was a mental challenge for any adult and an hour was found to be quite exhausting, especially when they had to produce coloured pictures while all this was happening.

A session in this room and big baby was completely tired and ready for a nap.

However, there was an alternative that was being investigated at the creche and that was a special derivative of a plant called mescal button a type of cactus with the potent active mescalin. It had an acute affect on the mind that caused varying degrees of illusions, hallucinations, altered perception of space and time, and altered body image. Users may also experience euphoria, which is sometimes followed by feelings of anxiety. The effect on body often came with intense nausea, vomiting, dilation of the pupils, increased heart rate, increased blood pressure, a rise in body temperature that causes heavy perspiration, headaches, muscle weakness, and impaired motor coordination. All perfect for your new baby.

Fentanyl, an opiate that has ravaged America's youth, and xylazine are combined to create Tranq. This causes intense almost instantaneous drowsiness that can also lead to amnesia. This mix plus mescaline is the new coc-ktail developed by the creche, which is prepared in a gel that could be used to dip the baby’s dummy in and to make life simple for baby to ask for it, they called it mumu.

Tommy was delivered to the creche for his first session in the Baby Talk class and he was introduced to Bobby, Charlotte (who was originally Charlie), Davina (who was originally David), Simon (who will become Simone in due course) and Baba (who’s name had been deliberately erased from the records). They were all new additions to the creche and had over the last few weeks been through the nappy training that he had.

The six of them sat on little plastic chairs wearing onesies of various colours. Big nappies bulging out from their nether regions, all securely bibbed and dummied in readiness for their lessons. All of them were nervous and had been told not to talk as they had to listen to what they were going to be told.

Nurse Mary was the speech therapist in charge and she walked along the line of plastic chairs patting them on their heads and welcoming them to their new class. After a few minutes Nurse Elizabeth came in with a stroller and sat Bobby in it, then wheeled him away.

“He’ll be back in a minute” explained Nurse Mary, “he has gone for his morning treat and will be back in a moment.” Sure enough a few moments later she returned with Bobby who had clearly been crying. This unsettled the remaining babies. One by one they were taken away and returned, all showed signs of tears. The last to go was Tommy.

The nurse walked him out one door and straight into the door next to it. A man in a white coat said “take out your dummy and stick out your tongue for a sweetie.” The minute Tom did so it was grabbed by a tube with quite a strong vacuum that held it firm as a series of needles stabbed it all along the top and particularly at the tip. Within seconds it began to feel numb and tears began to well up in his eyes as he slowly lost much of the feeling in his tongue. He went to talk but the doctor wagged a big finger in his face and said “No!” as he put a chocolate bean on the top of his tongue and told him to close his mouth. The dummy was replaced but it now felt alien in his mouth. More tears formed as he was wheeled back.

The group was very subdued. Nurse Mary said they were going to learn a few words and was going to show them some pictures. The first was a feeding bottle. “This is a ba ba” she said “can you say that?”

The group went to remove their dummies, but nurse Mary said “No sweethearts you can keep your dummies in because these new words are so you can talk without taking them out and still your Mummy will understand you.”

“Ba ba” they all said in unison

Next she showed a white square cloth hanging on the line, a nappy. “Naffy” she said “you say it, naffy.” They all complied. Rubber pants were wubber panth, thank you was fank oo, potty was pothy (not that they would ever be needing one), and grandma was gwanny or nanna depending on what she liked.

They worked away on a list of almost thirty words and it took almost an hour. “Okay babies, you can take a rest now and take out your dummies and talk to each other for a few minutes.” She left the room and within seconds there was a great cry that came from within as the six realised that their tongues were no longer capable of forming proper shapes to form their words.

“My nameth Thimon lisped one, dribbling and spluttering past his misshapen tongue. “I’m ethpethially sowwy to be here” moaned another. “Me need a cwean naffy” said another breaking down into tears. “My dum dum ith mithing” wailed another searching for his pacifier.

Nurse Mary returned with six nursery nurses who took each of their charges to go for clean nappies and then to go for their morning naps. The team had decided that now was a good time to try out the newly introduced mumu and to study the effects.

Tom was the first.

[antonia]

I have to go out tomorrow - so here is the last part!

Chapter 9. Sleep training

Tom’s dummy was extracted from his mouth dipped into a jar of gel and quickly replaced. He blinked at first because it tasted a little of antiseptic and alcohol. Almost immediately he had a blinding sensation in his head, his mind filled instantly with a thousand images. He was a man, no a baby, he was floating above his body looking down on himself, there was an huge organ playing the wedding march, he was flying through the air like a bird on the wing. He had the erection from heaven, he had the feeling of the greatest joy and this was followed by a huge passionate crush for his nursery nurse Heather. He suc-ked heavily on his do-di, he felt wonderful, he felt exhausted, his world went blank, his eyes closed, he was done. He felt his nappy go warm, he loved everything.

The nurse Heather covered him with his pink fluffy cot blanket and made sure his dummy was safely in place. A bottle of water was placed by his head should he wake up thirsty. She adjusted his bib and made sure it was loose enough so that it would not strangle him. His Babygro was snug and comfortable and Tommy lapsed in to a deep and contented sleep where all his babyish thoughts became reality in his mind.

He was totally zonked out in a state of bliss and paradise as he slept in his creche cot. The staff looked at him in amazement, just over a week and Tom had reached his infantile level and seemed to have adapted perfectly. The level of diuretics had been substantially reduced as he no longer need the encouragement, because when he wasn’t suc-king on his binky he was nursing from his baby bottle. He was getting through litres of milk, juice and even water gave him the oral satisfaction he craved from suc-king on the bottle nipples.

It took him a moment to revive from his very deep sleep and his mind slowly sparked into life. He felt a complete baby and was very happy to be in the mental place that he was. He was changed in to a clean set of nappies and put in nursery print plastic pants. A pink vest was slipped over his head and secured between his legs with five poppers. The nursery nurse Heather took him into the art room so he could make a picture to take home to his mummy and granny. She sat his down at a little plastic table with Simon and Charlotte who were also still slightly subdued from the effects of the creche ‘special drug brew’.

The three of them sat around the table where a tray full of various coloured poster paints were ready for use. The art today was going to be finger painting and before they started the three nursery nurses put large plastic smocks on them to protect their clothes. The start was slow and tenuous as the three large toddlers  tried not to crash in to the paints at the expense of a colleague. Luckily, they were very polite and each wanted to start with a different colour. “wed one pwease” said Simon, “wellow for me pwease” requested Charlotte. The art work was also being used by the control room monitoring the table to see what mental state the babies had reached. An adult would take time to blend primary colour to make secondary colours and then use the resultant blend. A baby would do blue, then maybe use yellow to discover green or add red and find the colour purple as the colours mashed together on the paper. They all painted like perfect toddlers, faces were streaked in paint, hands were totally covered and protective smocks were artworks in their own right!

Dummies were suc-ked intently as they immersed themselves in a task they totally enjoyed. All three of them wet their nappies within minutes of starting and none of them realised until the end of the session. The nursery nurses wrote their names on the corners of the pictures and pinned them to a huge easel with magnetic clips to allow them to dry.

“Mumu” shouted Simon to his nurse “Mumu” he repeated with urgency. “Me want mumu” he pleaded waving his dummy at her. Clearly the high from the drug had receded and now he wanted a top up. Simon had been on the drug for almost a month now and it was becoming evident that he had been very susceptible to becoming addicted to the medication. They were desperately trying to reduce the dose daily, but unfortunately had forgotten about the jar that they had given to his parents at home, who sadly had given in to his excessive and noisy demands. It had reached a very tricky stage now and they had taken the jar back from his parents and were desperately trying to wean him off it.

A nurse came from the control room armed with a dose of tranquilliser that was quickly administered to calm him down. Simon became very floppy and needed to strapped into his pushchair. Tom thought that it might be nice to have some more mumu but his request never vocalised. “No mumu” said the nurse “mumu is only for nap time.”

The parents started to arrive to pick up their charges. Diane was finishing work in town and decided to pick up Tommy rather than have him delivered in the minivan. Tommy was really delighted to see her and waved at her from the painting table trying to brush past Heather who was trying to clean off the paint that covering his hands and face. “Hewwo Mummy” he shouted though his dummy and waving his arms “me made pwetty picker of hands”. Diane looked puzzled and Heather nodded toward the easel.

“Oh, what a clever baby you are!” she enthused “that is wonderful, let us take that home and show Gwanny shall we? She is going to think you are so clever.” One might have expected Tommy to have been more adult, but the side-effect of mumu was certainly a diminution of his perceived developmental state, so all seemed perfectly normal to him.

Heather helped Tommy to stand up and fitted him into his baby harness. His nappy sagged heavily inside his Babygro as he had wet himself numerous times during his art session. “I had better put Tommy in a new nappy” said Heather.

“Oh, don’t bother Heather” said Diane “it will do him good to get used to being in a wet nappy. Babies don’t always get changed straight away, and besides, I think Tommy quite likes the feeling of being in a soggy nappy!” Tommy didn’t disagree.

They arrived home and Celia (as was becoming the norm) was eagerly waiting for them to arrive home. “Hello Tommykins!” she exclaimed as Tom waddled in from the car in his leading reins, his nappy sagging even more as its saturation point had almost been reached. Diane held up his picture. “What a clever baby you are!” Celia said taking the picture and getting out some tape to pin it to the kitchen wall. Tommy was bursting with pride and his dummy was pulsing furiously as he tried to control his happy emotions.

Tommy was taken to his nursery and stripped down and given a bath. A lovely clean baby was put in his extra thick, fluffy, night time nappies with two Harrington nappies as soakers that were enclosed in a large pair of clear PVC pants that would keep him nice and dry all night long. He was put in a smocked winceyette and very babyish nightdress that his grandma had spent many days carefully smocking with different coloured embroidery threads. It was a work of art. It just touched the floor and his booties could only just be seen as he waddled along. The bottom seam of the nightwear had a line of buttons that could be closed when he was put in his cot and produced a snuggle bag that would stop him from walking of crawling. It was lovely and toasty inside and so soft against his skin. Tommy loved it and suc-ked on his dummy as he appreciated the love that enveloped him.

The two women fawned over their new baby and he loved it. The Little Miss Muffet Creche had delivered the perfect result and everybody was happy.

[Concluded]

[Princess PowderPuff]

Encore

I look forward to many more Sissy Central and Little Miss Muffet's Crèche stories from you in the future.