Little Miss Muffet’s Creche for Babies

[antonia]

Little Miss Muffet’s Creche for Babies

Author's note: I apologise for stealing a theme from Princess Powder Puff but I found her story so compelling that I wanted to explore the topic for myself. I wanted to look at the baby side of the business more than the sissy side. If this infringement of an excellent topic offends anybody, then of course I will take it down immediately.

Chapter 1 The background

Tom (or Tommy as his mother used to call him) had fought with all his might against his wife Dianne and her mother Celia who had managed to restrain him according to the guidelines recommended by the creche. The use of a Lexan paddle employed without restraint on the back of his legs and the application of a ‘stim stick’ used to control cattle they had subdued him into a compliant state. Nurse Sarah and Matron Edna had provided the backup advice and training to complete the mission.

The creche had been marvellous and more than helpful when they called into their old-fashioned looking establishment with its gloomy cabinets and tall wooden shelves packed with glass fronted drawers that ascended to the ceilings. This was a highly respected and much regarded establishment that had been in business since the early 1900’s. The provision of baby apparel and associated layettes had been their major trade until the advent of Paddipads and then Huggies and Pampers disposable nappies began to erode their traditional business of supplying terry nappies made by the famous names like Harringtons and Zorbit. Mothercare and Boots supplying traditional cloth nappies and then even M&S and John Lewis supplying high quality towelling nappies further made their trading proposition more difficult.

As LGBTQ began to surface and people began to become more open about their sexuality, so the fringes of adult babies, diaper or nappy lovers also began to surface, creating demands for products that were scaled more appropriately to their sizes. So it was that everything from nappies to dummies, bibs to onesies all began to become available. Web sites also started to appear that catered for these special people and another sector which was the humiliation and punishment side of the business. Little Miss Muffet went from strength to strength and began to supply everything that a willing or unwilling big baby could ever need.

Hypnosis tapes, restraints, harnesses, leading reins, high chairs, cots, playpens, and even prams and strollers were added to the catalogue and huge cost to the purchaser who seemed to have deep and generous pockets.

Clearly, the major part of the inventory was the baby clothes, with lovely soft woollen matinee jackets, bonnets, booties and mittens in the palest and most delicate of pastel colours. Babygros, onesies, childish pyjamas with the most adorable of baby print in soft winceyette fabrics, smocked nighties for the youngest of babies and baby doll with matching frilly panties to fit over the largest of nappies for the older child.

The traditional side of their business was always the terry nappy and they had the finest quality night time nappies made from the very best Turkish towelling that was thick enough for multiple wettings, down to the regular day time nappy made from quality towelling from Pakistan. They catered in sizes from 24 inches square up to a massive 72 inches, recommending the smaller baby size as an insert or stuffer to the larger nappies for added absorbency.

Plastic pants came in all sizes up to 3X which was about a 60 inch waist. They had pull up and popper pants that fastened at the side. They had vinyl, PVC, rubber and crackly polyurethane. Of course, the also carried the terry lined plastic pants for toddlers in potty training as well as terry towelling pants for the occasional dribbler.

The latest line to be introduced by Miss Grimshaw, the owner, and fearsome head of the organisation, was a range of useful ‘medications’ that could be used to aid the transformation of any miscreant or unwilling participant. Sedatives that ranged from mild to almost anaesthetic, diuretics, laxatives, psychedelic drugs that could induce euphoria and improve susceptibility to hypnosis, muscle relaxants, drugs that increased salivation and drooling, drugs that numbed the mouth making speech almost impossible, drugs that induced amnesia and drugs that could cause gender alterations.

In terms of service, the organisation had no rivals. They offered everything from the initial pacification of the subject through to the training and maintenance of that candidate using the special classes and training programmes offered within the creche.

The first class (and most important training) was the loss of bladder control and proper use of nappies. This was carried out on a residential basis and lasted a week. It was the most expensive part of the treatment and was considered an absolute ‘must’ for any new unwilling baby. The use of a catheter was also an option but not considered to be a proper solution. There was a technique of using a catheter on a long-term basis and slowly increasing the size until it damaged the urethra and caused incontinence but it often produced very bad infections and so was discontinued. Diane and Celia had chosen the tried and tested method that was almost guaranteed to be successful.

The second class was very closely related and involved the removal of bowel control so that the subject would be unable to avoid soiling their nappies at least once a day. Many new mothers and grandmothers did not want this less attractive feature and would prefer to have the child use a potty which the organisation produced and sold in an age-appropriate size. There were two ways to achieve this state of incontinence, the first was to reduce the consistency of the elimination, but the second and most effective was anal dilation. The cheapest solution was the fitting of a tube that was fitted up the bottom and bypassed the anal sphincter so that the passage was continually open. The second and less permanent solution was the application of a series of increasing diameter sized rings that slowly increased the opening until it was stretched open to such an extent that the sphincter became less effective. This treatment took two days of intensive and had to be repeated every few months. Most carers or guardians opted for the surgical approach that cut the main nerves going to the sphincter and cutting and scarring the tissue so that the muscles failed to operate and at the slightest pressure released.

Celia and Diane were given a full tour of the facility and spent a large part of the day buying the necessary supplies. They sat at the large mahogany counter as shop assistants, who, it had to be said, looked very sissyish in their pink uniforms and with hair in ringlets and heavily beribboned.

Glass fronted drawers declaring Big Boys Towelling Nappy (Day), Big Boys Towelling Nappy (Night) were opened and samples brought to them on their comfy chairs for inspection. They decided between them that quality was key because these were going to be in service for many years. Babies outgrew their nappies in a few years, but Tommy was going to be in his forever. They fondled the fabric, marvelling at the thickness and softness, appreciating the craftsmanship used on the edging and seams. They decided on three dozen of the daytime and a dozen of the nighttime nappies.

The choice of plastic pants was almost overwhelming and the counter was stacked high with pink, translucent, pale lemon, and clear baby pants in all manner of styles and cuts. They chose pairs that were see-through, so that they could see when he was wet or dirty. These they decided would be best for when he was at home. They had nursery print pants for bed time and ruffled over-pants or nappy wraps lined in plastic for when he went out or when visitors came. They had extravagant rhumba panties with row after row of pink lace. They chose pants with lace around the waist and leg openings. They purchased dozens of different pairs and on reflection decided that they had gone a little mad!

They acknowledged the expertise of Princess Powder Puff and chose the same Tiny Tots harness that David’s mother had chosen for him with the locking buckles and tinkling bells on the breast plate – which was one of the organisations best sellers and so was at a reasonable price.

They purchased baby vests and onesies, they invested in ribbed tights with babyish patterns, and special shoes that leaned outwards to increase the bow-legged gait of a baby just learning to walk.

Booties, bibs, and bonnets and all the things that a new baby could ever want, began to pile up along the length of the counter. On the floor were flat packs of a new super secure cot with restraints and a locking lid. A high chair that Houdini would find hard to escape from, made of the finest oak and fitted with the strongest stainless steel fittings. A wooden playpen with rattles and balls built into the bars that would surround him and keep him safe and out of mischief.

Bottles designed for a big baby with large NUK 5 nipples, dummies in all shapes and colours to match his clothes of the day. A steriliser to make sure that he did not pick up any germs.

Of course, they spent most time and money choosing his little baby dresses with their puffed sleeves and flouncy petticoats that were just long enough to reach the waist band of his puffy plastic pants. They spent a small fortune.

[Princess PowderPuff]

AWESOME!!

Not quite the direction I had envisioned Little Miss Muffet's going but at the end of the day it's purely a vehicle to wrap a story around so it can be whatever the author wants it to be.

I might have to steal your playpen and highchair for David's use in some of my upcoming chapters.

I'm looking forward to reading your second chapter of what could turn out to be quite a saga.

(check out page 7 of A Sissy is Born for my response to your earlier reply)

[Baby Mac]

Antonia you never disappoint please continue

[antonia]

Thank you for allowing me to continue. I hope you enjoy my take on Princess Powder Puff's excellent story that I continue to support and follow with a great passion.

Chapter 2 – How it all started

Tommy was the Managing Director of Travel Tours a business started by his mother-in-law Celia and her husband (sadly passed away) in the early sixties. Diane joined the business from university once she had completed her degree and brought new expertise in the form of accountancy skills and learnings of the hospitality industry. Tom had joined shortly after he had married Diane and worked his way up from branch manager to managing Director in the space of five years. The had ten offices dotted about the country and specialised in executive holidays and those adventures that were off the main tourist track. Tommy had expertise in computers and web design, so in virtually no time had hugely increased the volume of business through their web site offerings.

Diane and Tom had a good loving relationship, although his skills in bed were hardly impressive and he had a rather poorly endowed piece of equipment that had a nasty habit of going off unexpectedly. Diane taught Tom the oral skills that gave her more satisfaction than his rather ineffective fumbling and lack of penetration that usually resulted in him ‘falling out’ anyway. More often than not, it was quicker and more effective to finish him off by hand than by having normal intercourse.

Tom clearly had a position of prestige and thought that in his high position that he could perhaps expect more out of his employees than they had signed up for. Sarah, his new secretary was very attractive and extremely bright. Tom mistook her smiles and kindness to be an invitation to make sexual advances. She was just paying homage to her boss’s position and had no interest in him sexually. Tom started to pat her bottom as she passed by him, he used to rub her shoulder if her was looking over her computer screen as she was typing. One day he grabbed her breast and tried to fondle her crutch. It was a step too far and she screamed out. Diane in the office next door came rushing in to see Tom with her hand inside the poor girl’s blouse fondling her lacy bra. A button had ripped off and Sarah was in a state of disarray and clearly distressed.

“Get out Tom, I will speak to you later” she barked as she immediately went to comfort the assaulted Sarah. It was a miracle that there was not a court case for attempted rape and Sarah was given a promotion and relocated to another of their offices in a neighbouring town.

Sadly, this was not the first time that Tom had been in this type of trouble and he had had a narrow brush with the law when he was over-friendly with a local bar maid who did not welcome his advances a few weeks earlier. Indeed, over the years he had clocked up several similar misdemeanours and Diane was losing her patience.

It was that night after the secretarial incident that Tom crossed the line and full of frustration and bitterness forced Diane into the bedroom after a rather tense supper and attempted to rape her. He failed in the attempt because his tiny appendage fell out of her and he ended up squirting his load over her underwear that had become ripped and torn in the assault. Diane hit him with a slap that nearly parted his head from his shoulders. She kicked him out of their marital bedroom into the spare room and called her mother, who came round immediately.

Celia spent the night with her daughter in her bed. Tom disappeared as he was told into the spare bedroom and did not appear until his mother-in-law and Diane had left for work. He went down in to the kitchen and saw a note on the table. “Stay at home today, Tom, it is best we sort this out at work for you. Take a few days off, go and play golf or something and we can discuss your behaviour when I get home tonight. Diane.”

Tom did go and play golf, albeit rather badly as his mind was very much elsewhere.

In the meantime, his wife and Celia had paid a visit to Little Miss Muffet’s Creche for Sissies and put in place plans for Tom’s future. They paid up front for a comprehensive plan and began the process of making Tom firstly in to Tommy and eventually into Tammy who was going to be their little baby girl.

Tom bought his wife a beautiful bracelet, a huge bunch of flowers and spent the afternoon preparing dinner for her. He sent her text after text saying he was sorry, but never received a reply. He laid the table, chilled a fine Pouilly Fuisse and carefully placed the crystal wine glasses on the table. On her place mat he put the card saying he was sorry and the beautifully wrapped gold and diamond tennis bracelet that had cost a small fortune.

Diane returned, she was cold at first, but slowly warmed as she sipped on the wine and opened her present. They faced each other over the table as Tom apologised and pleaded for forgiveness. He had prepared smoked salmon as a starter and then cooked a fresh spaghetti carbonara. It was one of his finest efforts.

Tom cleared the plates from the table and was about to serve freshly brewed coffee when the door bell rang. He looked annoyed, Diane looked quizzical, but Tom shrugged and went to open the door.

Celia stood there looking black as thunder. She pushed past him and went to her daughter leaving Tom holding the door. As he looked after her – somewhat confused, two women took him from behind. One stuck a hypodermic needle in his arm, whilst the other wrestled his had into a glove. Once the injection was delivered the first woman put his other hand into a similar glove. His hands were immobilised in a woollen mitt fitted with a stiff leather insert that rendered his fingers useless. He felt himself becoming dizzy and he staggered away from the doorway and into the hall. Celia took Diane to the front doorstep and they began to bring in bags of supplies. In a few minutes the hall was full of bags and boxes.

Tom had been led into the lounge where he had sat down on the couch, his legs were going wonky and he needed to catch his breath. He lashed out at one the women dressed in the dark blue uniform of a matron. Her name was Edna and she would not accept any nonsense from her new charge, she pulled what Tom thought was a truncheon from a leather pouch on her belt and touched it to Tom’s leg – a sizzling flash and searing pain went through Tom like a bolt of lightning. He dropped his arm immediately and twitched a little.

Nurse Sarah was already in the process of cutting away Tom’s clothes with a set of cloth cutting shears as Diane and Celia unpacked a vinyl changing mat and a variety of other equipment including a barber’s Wahl razor and other paraphernalia. Tom watched in a daze as large towels were unpacked form a large packet – surely not – they were nappies. His suspicions were confirmed as a large pair of plastic baby pants were carefully taken out of their packed and flapped out to open them up. Baby powder, nappy rash cream, baby oil and other cosmetics also made their way onto the floor by the mat.

“Are you mad?” he managed to exclaim “No way are you putting me in that shit.”

The women dragged him onto the floor as Celia finished folding the nappy into a giant kite shape. He struggled and writhed as they turned him onto his front. Diane unwrapped the long paddle with the holes along its length and systematically started to spank the back of his legs until in no time at all they were the colour of a fire engine. As she was spanking, the nurse was shaving his bottom with the razor until it was baby smooth.

They flipped him over and Tom started to flail his arms hoping to hit somebody, once again the stim stick was used and he lay there twitching. They continued to shave him.

Celia coated the nappy area with zinc and castor oil cream, everybody yanking his feet over his head to reach his bottom. Baby powder fell like snow. A stainless-steel ring was put over his testicles and a lubricated tube fitted into his urethra that was connected to a dome that quickly connected to the ring and secured the two parts with a locking lug. His pen-is looked like a little silver dome.

His nappy was pulled between his legs, nurse Sarah (not related to his secretary by the way!) folded two baby sized terry nappies in half to act as a soaker. Diane had the best job which was to finish off his ensemble by pulling the giant plastic pants up and over his bulky nappies. Between them they made sure that every piece of terry towelling was carefully enclosed in the protective plastic shell.

Celia unwrapped a dummy and forced it into his mouth. “If that dummy comes out, then I will happily superglue it to your face” she warned. Tom clearly frightened suc-ked on the silicon teat experimentally. The pink face plate entirely covered his mouth and he looked every inch a baby.

Diane tied a pink terry bib around his neck in case he drooled. It was trimmed in lace and had an applique of a teddy wearing nappies sewn on the front.

A pair of pink booties with pink ribbon were tied to his feet and a matching pair of mittens put over the restraining mitts. They too were fastened with pink ribbons.

They had decided that they were going to let him sleep in just his nappy and bib. It was too late to assemble a cot so they decided to let him sleep on his changing mat. In the morning he was going to go straight to the creche for his first babification lessons. Matron took out her stainless-steel box that contained her syringe and prepped it with a sleeping draft that would knock Tom out for the night. A small fountain of the drug went into the air before the rest was injected into a vein in Tom’s arm.

Diane unpacked a fluffy pink blanket and laid it over her husband who was almost comatose. She smiled as the dummy in his mouth began to bob in and out. He let out a little groan, and as Diane peeked under the soft new blanket she could see that Tom had wet his first nappy since his mother had potty trained him over thirty years ago.

The women all crept out of the lounge to finish off the desert Tom had made and enjoy a nice cup of coffee. The four women congratulated themselves on a very good night’s work. The matron and the nanny would stay the night and they would all go to the creche the next day with Tommy for his induction.

[antonia]

Chapter 3 – The journey begins

Tommy was in a bit of a state when he woke up from his drug induced sleep at around 07.00 o’clock the next morning. His legs were sore from the paddle slapping and had red welts from where he had been shocked. He was surprised that he still had the dummy in his mouth and even more surprised that he was suc-kling on it quite naturally. He was most concerned that what he had thought was all a bad nightmare was in fact a dreadful truth that was confirmed by the realisation that he was wearing a very wet nappy inside a pair of plastic pants; even worse that he had probably wet the nappy more than once while he had been asleep.

He looked at his hands and feet and wondered why on earth they had put him in such babyish attire. During this recollection of the night’s event the two medical staff from the creche came quietly into the room. He looked at them and contemplated his next course of action, although he felt a little drowsy, he was certainly fit enough for a good fight, but then he would not learn anything new about his situation.

“What is happening to me?” He asked calmly, spluttering through his dummy

“You are being taken to the Little Miss Muffet’s Creche for Babies this morning” replied Edna the Matron dressed in a clean dark blue uniform with a gleaming white bibbed apron and white starched ruff collar.

“Sorry?” he replied in astonishment

“Your behaviour has been appalling and your new Mummy Diane and Granny Celia want to take you back to a time when you posed no threat to women” said Edna “you can’t go assaulting women and hope to get away with it Tommy.”

“But Diane is my wife, not my mother you idiotic woman” he retorted

“Not anymore” explained Sarah “you are going to be taken to our facility where you are going to unlearn a lot of things you have picked up since you were born. You are going to forget about potty training, you are going to remember when you loved the women who looked after and cared for you, changed your wet and messy nappies and fed you. Slowly, the facility is going to mess with your head and slowly you are going to be regressed until even your speech will be that of a toddler.”

“You cannot be serious” shouted Tom who was slowly losing his cool demeanour.

The two women sat him up and pulled a pink vest over his head. They dragged him to his feet with difficulty because he was still groggy and pulled the vest right down over his wet nappy and fastened the press studs between his legs. He wobbled precariously and sat down with a bump on a dining room chair that Diane had brought in for him to sit on. His bib was quite wet from his night time session on his do-di and his nappy was now hanging heavy in his pink Babygro.

Diane was delighted to see the dark rings under his eyes from his troubled sleep and was thrilled to note that he had taken to his binky like a real trooper and had made an excellent job of using his nappies. He seemed very subdued and not quite on his game.

Celia came sweeping in, full of the joys of spring and dressed for business in a smart grey skirt with crisp white blouse. Her makeup was immaculate as always and her beautifully manicured nails were flawless. She walked over to the chair and planted her hand flat on the front of Tommy’s crotch. She beamed at him and picked up the bottom of his bib to wipe a rivulet of slobber from his chin.

“Good baby” she said to him with his chin in her hand “a very wet nappy and a good boy for using his dum dum all night. Now we are going to get you fixed for good.” She said with a cruel grin.

Tom glared back at her. “My nappy is wet Celia and I want you to take it off right now” he sputtered past his dummy sounding very juvenile.

“They will sort you out at the creche” said Celia “and from now on I am not Celia to you but Granny.”

“It’s time” said Edna as the creche mini bus came into the drive way.

They buckled Tommy into a new fitted seat in the back of the minivan designed for a disadvantaged large child. It had a five-way harness that was befitting an aeronaut and Tommy was completely immobilised. He was so deranged and out of his comfort zone that he resumed a passionate suc-king on his soother. The door slammed shut. Sarah and Edna took up their seats in the front as Granny and Mummy got in Mummy’s Mercedes.

Half an hour later they arrived at the private entrance to the creche. Tommy was transferred to a stroller and taken to a room marked with a sign that said “Incontinence Training.” Tommy shuddered and wet his nappy again. He felt it leak and his seat and the back of his legs felt wet.

A team of specialists were waiting for him. They quickly stripped him naked and washed him thoroughly with soft flannels and hot sudsy water. Only his hands remained restrained. They set about carefully taking his hands out of the special gloves. Tom thought about putting up a fight but the team looked ready for trouble and the presence of the painful prods and paddles were enough to make him behave sensibly.

The use of superglue and bandages made his hands useless and they replaced the soft mittens in which he had arrived. Although incapable of doing anything tricky his hands did feel a lot more comfortable and the pins and needles caused by the cramp slowly receded. They removed the chastity device and he was pleased to hear it clang as they threw it in a kidney dish. The tube was removed from his willy and the ring removed and again he was grateful.

They flipped him onto his front and inserted something into his bottom, they turned him onto his back and slipped a soft silicon ring over his pen-is. He looked puzzled. The man in the specialist group spoke.

“Hello Tommy, I’m Dr Stevenson and I am responsible for your care and treatment” he explained “you have been fitted with a stimulator and I can promise you that the next 24 hours or so are going to be a lot of fun and enjoyment for you. As you wet your nappy it will trigger a sensor that will activate the appliance I have put in your bottom next to your prostate. It will rotate and gyrate against the prostate and stimulate you; at the same time the ring around your pen-is with vibrate and swell causing you to have an erection that will be insatiable.

The rest of the team set about pinning Tommy into double thick nappies with two sets of soft fluffy white baby nappies as soakers. Two wires came out of his bottom and were connected to an external control box. A pair of plastic pants were pulled up over his very thick and bulky nappies and carefully fitted. Finally, a pair of tight fitting rubber pants were pulled over the whole ensemble to ensure no leaking.

“The more you wet, the more you will enjoy your nappies, but to make sure you make enough urine, we are going to make sure you have an endless supply of liquids, which are full of nutrients and diuretics to encourage copious wetting.” Dr Stevenson explained.

Tommy was escorted off the changing station and taken to a large cot that was surrounded by medical equipment and monitoring devices. A huge bag of pink fluid was hanging from a pole that was connected to a large feeding teat that looked like a huge dummy with a feeding tube coming out of the front. He walked with difficulty, the bulky nappies making him walk with his legs akimbo and gave him a definite waddle. He looked just like a baby taking its first steps.

They made him lie down and secured him in the cot with a baby harness that attached to the base. A thick absorbent bib was tied around his neck that was trimmed with pink gingham edging. A little pillow supported his head. A nurse removed his dummy and replaced it with the feeding teat and almost immediately the sweet juice began to trickle into his mouth. It was slightly tangy and pleasantly fruity; the more he suc-ked the more he felt himself become placid and relaxed. He felt the volume in his bladder begin to be noticeable and he was curious to know how the experiment would work.

“If you need to go, you should not hold back Tommy” said the doctor “trust me this is a wonderful experience.”

Tom let a small trickle out and the sensor twitched just a little. It felt good but needed a little more wetness to be fully effective, so he released a little more. The explosion to his senses was beyond words and the stimulation to his little sissy stick was more than anything he had ever experienced. In no time at all he was spurting his cream into the thick folds of his soft nappy- it felt wonderful. He suc-ked greedily on the feeder trying to replenish his bladder as quickly as he could. The soft warm confines of his nappies were already providing stimulation enough and in no time at all he was stiff again. He wriggled about in his cot, writhing and trying to get the stimulation he so greedily desired. He bucked his hips and tried to rub himself with his mittened hands but his nappies were too thick to allow such rewards.

His brain was not stupid and as soon as he had sufficient head of pressure his bladder again released and the cycle of stimulation started again. The process repeated itself hour after hour until he had lost count of how many times his body had been abused. He was milked dry long before morning arrived, but still his brain made him suc-k and wet. He was totally exhausted twenty four hours later but still he suc-ked on the feeder as he slept and still he wet without even thinking.

The nurses had only changed him once after twelve hours and he was almost delirious when they put him in clean nappies and refreshed his feeding bag. By morning his eyes were glazed, his sissy stick was sore and exhausted and his bottom throbbed. They dismantled the apparatus and fitted a new device in his bottom. He was almost weeping by this stage as new nappies were pinned on to him and fresh plastic pants and linen were replaced.

“Okay Tommy! I know you enjoyed that, but now we are going to use the anal dilator on you. It works just like before, but instead of pleasure you will experience discomfort as the hole in your bottom will be expanded if you do not wet enough. This will set you up for a later phase of your training, so it will not be wasted.”

Tommy was again plugged in to his feeder and the new device activated. This time he was quite heavily sedated and was less aware of his bladder and less awake. He fell into a deep slumber and he suc-ked on his feeder but forgot to let go of his bladder. A bottom ripping pain woke his from his slumbers and he immediately wet his nappy. The ring relaxed a little and he was able to slip back into the arms of morphia. He again forgot to activate the sensor by wetting and again his bottom was ripped open by the expanding ring. It was agony and he again wet to release the ring slightly. He once again drifted back in to a drug induced sleep.

The staff who were carefully monitoring him were thrilled when after half an hour he wet himself without waking, suc-king intently on his feeder all the while. The ring did not expand and more and more frequently Tommy wet his nappies from a very deep sleep and was totally unaware that he had returned to being an habitual bedwetter. He was now wetting himself like an incontinent toddler with absolutely no control.

Tommy was dreaming, he had flashbacks of being a toddler and one particularly embarrassing night when he soiled his pyjamas because he was too cold and lazy to go to the bathroom. His mother threatened to put him back in nappies. He said that she didn’t have any, and in response she showed him the large stack of his freshly laundered nappies in the airing cupboard. He experienced the dream with huge clarity, he could even feel the large log force its way out of him and into his protection and could also feel the pressure as it met the resistance of his nappy blocking its path. He wriggled and squirmed as the staff watched with amazement as Tommy soiled his nappy in his sleep for the first time since he was about six months old. The performance ended with him adding a large wetting before he woke up with shock as he realised what he had done. It was morning and day two of his training had now been completed.

[Princess PowderPuff]

This is very much a Little Miss Muffet's through the Looking Glass that offers a more sinister side to the firm than poor David has experienced. It's quite a contrast to the other version and is eminently readable.
How do you manage to write so much so fast? It takes me forever to produce that much content.

[Baby Mac]

Great job you pull of so much creativity. I hope they begin to brainwash him and have a hypnotherapist regress him back to a past with an abusive mother or granny.