Tommy's Story

[antonia]

My apologies for the delay but it is not always easy to find the time or inspiration to write. Thank you so much to those who have made the effort to say thank you and to suggest further plots and story lines.

Chapter 6

I stood outside facing the wall. The two girls polishing the floor worked their way towards me.

“What’s your name. Are you in trouble?” one asked

“I’m Tom” I whispered “I’ve just been collected by Social Services.”

“Oh, bad luck! We are Sophie and Charlotte We came here a year ago because our parents died. Are you wearing a nappy already? That was quick.”

“What do you mean?” I asked “my nanny made me wear them and now I don’t think I can do without them. You don’t wear then do you?”

“Everybody who is being punished must wear nappies. If you behave like a baby then you get treated like one” explained Sophie. “Charlotte and I have been back in nappies for almost a month now.”

“What did you do?” I enquired

“We got caught trying to take some food out of the pantry, because we were so hungry” explained Charlotte.
“We have been put on cleaning floor duties ever since.”

The door flew open and the Mother Superior stood towering above us. “Charlotte, Sophie. Get on with your work at once. I am reporting your misbehaviour to Sister Bernadette who will deal with you appropriately. You boy, Tommy, I did not give you permission to chit chat but I did tell you to stand outside and face the wall. You seem to have disobeyed me and will need to be punished.”

“I’m sorry Mrs” I was lost for words as I did not know how to address her.

“You call me Mother Superior” she barked back

“I’m sorry for not doing as I was told” I stammered “You did not tell me that I could not talk” I tried to plead my defence “I promise I will be good.” The Mother Superior did not look impressed with my backchat and with a wag of her finger and pointing to the wall, she went back into her office and closed the door.
Charlotte and Sophie whispered very quietly “we’ll not get changed until bedtime now” she said shrugging her shoulders. “Got to go”. They polished their way down the hall.

The door opened again, this time normally and Mrs Wainsworth was escorted past me. “You’ll be fine here” she said as she was leaving. She was shown out the large wooden front door which closed with a solid clump. The Mother returned and took me by my arm, not roughly but definitely firmly.

“You will start work here” she said as we threaded our way down one passage, then down two flight of stairs until we ended up in the services area of the old house. “You will work here every weekend for the whole day, from 06.00 to 08.00 each morning and 16.00 to 18.00 every afternoon on weekdays. We are a very large house with lots of sisters to support and we have thirty boys and girls who have no homes, like yourself, who need to be fed and clothed. In order to provide revenue, we take in washing that needs to be washed, dried and then in some cases pressed. You are a new boy and so you will start at the start of the process.”

She took me into a room stacked with laundry boxes on one side and piles of white plastic buckets that were stacked along the other wall. You don’t have to worry about the laundry boxes, you will deal with the buckets.
I was about to ask what was in the buckets, but she kindly took one and prised off the lid. The stench was dreadful and I knew exactly what the smell was caused by. It was wet and soiled nappies and it was a smell with which I was extremely familiar from my own personal experiences.

“Your job is to unload the buckets, scrape off the mess from the soiled ones and rinse them out in this sink.” She gestured for me to start unloading the bucket she had opened. I took them one by one and did as I had been instructed until there were about twenty rinsed nappies in the sink.

“Now you load the washer” she continued to define the process “make sure you have at least forty and no more than fifty in each load. I will send somebody in to collect you for supper. Sister Bernadette will change you before your supper.” Then she was gone.

I lost track of how many buckets I cleared but I had all five washing machines running by the time Sister Bernadette arrived. My hands were sore, I smelt like a sewer and my own protection was saturated with the eliminations of other babies and toddlers. She seemed a nice enough person, about mid-twenties, not ugly but certainly not pretty. Her habit showed nothing of her figure or what lay beneath and she smelt of Dettol and carbolic soap. I was escorted from the gloom of the laundry room down the corridor to what appeared to be a dormitory. There was a large changing table at one end of the room that looked well used and very worn. The pile of terry nappies looked white but were worn and tatty. Once my own nappies were removed; she cleaned and dried me before putting me in these clean ones. They were as soft as sandpaper and my sore skin, that already had a bad rash, was really irritated by the roughness of these worn-out diapers. Sister Bernadette did not say a lot, but she did look upset at the condition of my skin and applied a cream that was very soothing and smelling of bananas.

She dressed me in a grey shirt with matching grey shorts that went over the top of my scratchy nappies and plastic plants. I got down from the changing table and my legs which were unused to walking and standing felt quiet sore after my ordeals of the day.

She led me to the dining hall that was one floor up from our dormitory. It was a wood panelled room, with a long wooden refectory table and benches either side that ran the length of the room. The smell of polish infused the room with the smell of lavender. At the head of the room was a small table at right angles to the main table at which sat the Mother Superior and her cohort of nuns. At the main table in total silence sat about forty children split evenly on the long benches. The overall scene was one of dullness, the nuns in black and all the children in grey. The food for the day was a rather dull chicken soup with a very large hunk of wholemeal bread that had been fresh a few days earlier. I took my seat at the last space on the bench near the head of the table. Sister Bernadette put a bib round my neck, it was old, stained from many years of use, and was grey with a white border. It was institutional, there were no cartoons or silly words on it. The bottom had begun to fray and the weave of the terry cloth was beginning to unravel. I looked down the table and saw that all the children were wearing similar protection. Nobody sniggered, nobody looked, everybody stared at the food in front of them but nobody dared to eat. The food was blessed and with a startling rush the soup was devoured with great rapidity. The person next to me tried to steal my bread while I wasn’t looking but I managed to grab half of it back. The girl in front of me was trying to take soup from my bowl by leaning forwards with her spoon. In a trice, the two thieves were dragged from their seats by a nun and taken to the front table and stood in front of the Mother Superior. I finished my supper with some decorum.

The two children were sentenced by the wag of a finger. Two highchairs appeared and both girls were defrocked to reveal that both were in nappies and plastic pants. Another nun appeared with what appeared to be a pair of large plastic bags - each turned out to be a onesie made of some sort of transparent vinyl. Arms and legs were threaded into the garment and then secured with a large cord around the neck. The two errant children were then placed in the high chairs and firmly secured using the seat straps and then the trays fixed in front of them.

“You will now remain here until morning.” said the Mother Superior “Bring in the hydration for them.” Another nun arrived with a large bag of liquid that was suspended from a drip with a tube that was connected to a large feeding dummy. The two children squirmed in their seats as dummies were firmly plugged into their mouths and then fixed with straps that fastened at the back of their heads. Huge grey towelling bibs were put over their heads to catch the inevitable dribbles that escaped their mouths.

I sat looking at them wide-eyed. I barely felt myself as the warmth filled my nappy.

“Tommy” said the Mother Superior “this is what happens to naughty children. Make sure you are never one of them. Now everybody must return to their duties and thank the good Lord for all his blessings and kindness to us.”

“I’m wet” I said quietly to Sister Bernadette.

“That is why you are wearing nappies” she replied pointing to the exit for me to return to the laundry room. I went in quietness, I had been there for a whole afternoon and apart from talking to the two girls I had said nothing to any of my peers, nor they to me. I suddenly felt very isolated and alone.

[Baby Mac]

Starting to look like he was better off with mother.

[antonia]

Sorry, but it is a short part tooday!

Chapter 7

It was almost 9 o’clock by the time I took a wash and went to bed in my new dormitory which had eight boys getting ready for bed, Sister Bernadette was putting every boy into his night time nappies and plastic pants. All of us had grey winceyette pyjamas to wear that were tied up with a white cord around the waist. The trousers had plenty of space to accommodate our bulky nappies as we crinkled along to our beds. Nobody talked. It was like being in with a troupe of zombies. Out of the nine of us, there were four others apart from me who were wearing day time nappies, all of them as part of a punishment so I gathered from listening to Sister Bernadette talking to each of her charges.

We pulled up the blankets over us, there were no linen sheets apart from the rubber sheet on every bed to protect the mattresses. There was a pillow, but this too had a rubber pillow case in order to protect it. It was horribly uncomfortable, but I could not help but think of the two trapped in their high chairs who would be forced to sleep sitting up slumped over in their own leaking protection.

The light went out and the whispers started. The boys wanted to know my name and why I was there. It turned out that everybody had been referred to the home by social services. The laundry was a money-making side of the business, but an even larger side to the business was the selling of babies and toddlers to desperate parents who could not have children of their own. Once a month. Couples would walk round the home looking for children to buy and adopt. Sometimes the older children would disappear and it was suspected that they ended up as unpaid domestics or servants. They were never heard of again.

I mentioned the two girls who were polishing the floors and it turned out that they were often rented out to do their duties in other large houses. A couple of the boys said that I was lucky to work in the laundry, because it was one of the warmer places in the winter. I asked them what part about scraping off shitty nappies was lucky? That got a laugh followed by shushing noises to keep the noise down. Two of the boys were working in the kitchen peeling potatoes and putting them in the chip slicer to pack into bags for sale to local fish and chip shops. Two other boys were being taught how to clean bathrooms and toilets, mop floors and polish work surfaces. The other four seemed to be lucky, they attended classes and were taught useful skills like book keeping and computer skills like typing and taught to take dictation. They were the four who were not wearing nappies.

Eventually, we went to sleep and by morning all of us were wet and in need of a change. We went down to breakfast and the two high chairs with the unfortunate pair were still there. They looked miserable and were sobbing. The inside of their plastic onesies looked disgusting as their eliminations had escaped the protection of their plastic baby pants and spilled out in all directions to pool in the feet of the plastic suits.

They were taken away to be cleaned up. As they had disappeared a group of adults clearly in pairs were looking at us boys and girls seated at the tables in our grey bibs and waiting for the Mother Superior to bless whatever the globby mess was in the plates before us. One couple pointed at a boy who was in my dormitory and had been on potato peeling duties. Sister Angelina from the top table took him away. One of the girls, Sophie, the floor polisher was also pointed at by another couple and she was taken away by Sister Mary.

We never saw either of them again.

Life settled into a rhythm, I was always hungry, always dressed in grey, but as time wore on, I slowly regained my daytime control. The wet, harsh, rough wet nappies became too uncomfortable to wear and slowly I learned to use the large pot that was positioned in my place of work. Sister Bernadette seemed very happy for me and I became used to wearing training pants during the day.

I had been there many years, not seeing much in the way of sunlight, but had formed hushed friendships with my dormitory peers. A lot of people disappeared and I was coming to the end of my own stay as I approached the age of sixteen. I suspect nobody ever picked me because I smelt of my work, like the old leather tanners or dyers of olden times! Those who had not been picked out went on to another house at that magic age.

Nobody knew anything.

The laundry business had grown to such an extent that the foster home now was offering a nappy service that went out to deliver and collect nappies from individual households. In the old days they were a part of domestic washing bought to the house by the householder. Now there was a van and on one glorious day I was told that my days of washing dirty nappies was over and that I was now in charge of a small team who would do my old job and I would be the one who ran from van to front door to collect the buckets and baskets to bring them back.

I thought I had arrived in paradise. I had a smart new uniform (in grey naturally) which was a smart overall with my name on the jacket. Sister Angelina was the driver of the smart white van and I got to sit up front next to her. We did not talk, she barked out the orders at each stop and I rushed up the path, banged on the door, rang the bell, carried the heavy buckets into the back of the van and collected the paperwork. It was all wonderful for the first week until we knocked on one door. As the door opened I shrank back in terror, and for the first time in years, I wet myself.

[krystalasbaby2017]

Definately doesn't sound like Tommy will enjoy being in this place either.  The mother superior seems mean spirited.

[Baby Mac]

its mother or mother dressed as a domiantrix.

[antonia]

Sorry for another short chapter and no it wasn't mother back as a dominatrix! A little more intense today and I will try and write more soon!

Chapter 8

There, in all her magnificent evil glory stood Nanny dressed impeccably in her dark blue Matron’s uniform and beside her a bewildered teenage girl wearing a sweet cerise baby frock dripping in lace and ribbons that came to her waist, leaving on show a plump bulging nappy cover in matching fabric. A pink leather, baby harness enclosed her chest and Nanny had a firm grip on the leading reins. She tinkled merrily as she fidgeted. About her neck was a small dribble bib and, in her mouth, a large pink dummy that she was suc-king passionately.

My own memories flooded back to me as I felt my own training pants warm as I remembered my own days under her domination. Sister Angelina had not stayed in the van but had joined me on the doorstep. She looked at me knowingly, staring at my grey trousers that were slowly developing a large dark patch as the training pants slowly failed to control the volume of wetness. Nanny looked at my accident with a large smirk on her face.

It was clear to me that Sister Angelina and Nanny were old friends and instead of collecting the nappy buckets from the client as normal, we were invited in. The teenage girl was gibbering in baby talk and looked very uncomfortable. Every minute or so, she would take a sly glance at Nanny to make sure that she was not in any trouble. Nanny put her in a large play pen that stood in the middle of the lounge. It was full of baby toys, soft cloth bricks, teething rings, rattles and soft cuddly toys. She gestured that I should get in the pen with her.

Behind the large dummy, I could see that she was a very beautiful young lady. It turned out that her name was Susie and that she was aged eighteen, two years older than me. She had long blond hair that had been permed into large curls that flowed down to her shoulders. Beneath her harness it was perfectly clear that she was fully developed and the outline of her breasts could be seen through the delicate fabric of her baby dress. She offered me a dolly, a quick glance at Nanny made me accept her and hold her to my chest. There were smiles from the two matriarchs. Dolly was soft and smelled of baby powder. I brushed against Susie and she too was soft and smelt of baby powder. I felt an arousal from within my wet training pants. These feelings were so very rare in the orphanage as we had no contact between the opposite sex, always being segregated and not permitted to talk.

Nanny and Sister Angelina went in to the kitchen and I tried to talk to Susie but she shook her head violently, took out her dummy and told me to shut up. Suddenly, I was taken by surprise as she plunged on her knees towards me and gave me a huge French kiss. I was horrified, I had never kissed a girl, let alone had a tongue thrust into my mouth. She grabbed my hand and pushed it down into the front of her nappy encouraging me to rub her in that place so exciting that she started to pant. My erection was intense. I rubbed her under the guidance of her own hand and the kissing became a frenzy, the panting became more rapid and turned into a deep groan that seemed to come from the very heart of her. She started bucking up and down on her knees, the grunting noises became deeper and deeper and finally there was a wail like a banshee that was enough to wake the dead.

She hugged me to her breast, which in this case, was a face full of little bells on the breast plate of her harness. I had never felt so happy. My own erection was raging, but it mattered not, because for the first time in my life I had felt real affection.

Nanny and Sister Angelina could not help but hear the commotion. I suspect that they had watched the whole thing on a nanny cam anyway. I was surprised by their reaction, I expected violence, I thought there would be shouting and some sort of pain, some retribution, but there was none. The two women laughed and laughed some more. Clearly Susie was also expecting trouble, she gently removed her hand from the front of her nappy as I pulled my fingers out of her most private of places, wet from her juices and passion. As my hand very slowly tried to surreptitiously sneak out of her babyish protection, she let a gush of urine flood over my fingers. My erection, denied for so long, so excited by this turn of events, oblivious to those around me and held deeply in Susie’s embrace, decided that with a minimal movement within my towelling pants would start to thump and pump - filling me with joy and a further but different soiling of my babyish underwear.

“That’s a good baby,” said Susie rubbing the front of my damp trousers and starting to giggle.

I looked at the three women laughing at me. What on earth was going on?

[Baby Mac]

I don't know what's going on to Tommy but i bets its apart of Nanny's twisted style and i love it so much. this is getting interesting again i was wondering could Nanny keep and start to hypnotize Tommy to make him submit with tea cup hypnosis from Get Out.