Failed and Faulty

[antonia]

Chapter 4

Andy felt his popper pants being opened and his dry nappy being unpinned. His personal parts were pulled first one way, then another as the clippers removed his scant growth of hair. He continued to suc-k on the bottle propped on a pillow and with each suc-k he became less able to move, less able to direct his thoughts. “It’s so sweet” he thought he heard “this definitely belongs in a nappy for doing wetties because it certainly is useless for satisfying a woman”. There was a tinkling laugh that made him feel sad and humiliated. His wet bib was removed.

The restraints were removed, his bottle hissed and gurgled as the last of the liquid was suc-ked through the nipple. His dummy was reinserted and again old reflexes took over. Olivia shaved him from head to toe, he was pulled and shunted this way and that, tossed and turned, with foul smelling cream being applied all over his newly shaved areas. It stung.

Olivia pulled him out of bed and onto his feet. Now was his time to escape, but he could barely stand and he leant heavily on his captor, his head lolling, his legs uncoordinated like a bad drunk. He was thrust into a shower room where Olivia propped him up against the wall. A huge shower head dropped a storm of water over them both. Olivia soaped and washed him with a huge soft sponge holding him tight and close. Andy was in his head sheltering from the storm beneath a large tree with Olivia, his head fell on her breast and he spat out his dummy and latched on. He groped and fondled her clumsily, but in his dreamy stupor he was a sexy stud. Olivia put her hand on his sissy stick but it was not responsive, the drugs had rendered him impotent. He suc-ked as she turned her attention to her own pleasure centres.

She wrapped him in a large fluffy towel and patted him dry. Andy dreamed he was a little toddler being cared for by his mummy. His legs almost buckled but Olivia kept heaving him straight. His mummy guided him into his nursery and he fell in to his pink cot. He could no longer distinguish between what was real and what was in his dream.

Heavy creams were applied, baby powder fell like snow all over him. Thick fluffy nappies were secured and enclosed in soft vinyl baby pants. He was put in a vest that fastened beneath his legs forcing his nappy tight into his bottom. A pink bonnet made of softest wool, trimmed with ribbons was put on his bald head and tied beneath his chin. A pink bib edged in lace was carefully tied around his neck. Soft mittens were put over his hands and booties on his feet. He was a confection in pink. In his dream he was given his comforter, a soft freshly laundered nappy that he held to the side of his face as he suc-ked on his dummy. He  waggled his arms and wiggled his legs as his mummy tickled his tummy and snuggled his nappies. He looked for his beloved teddy bear but the soft face that stared back at him was not his beloved Patchy, this was wrong. Where was he?

Suddenly, a feeling of total dread washed over him as the drugs coursing through his veins reached their peak. He felt so insecure, he feared falling out of his cot, as it was a long drop with the side railing down. He scooted back on his bottom to be close to the wall, he felt nauseous and he began to salivate heavily a sign that he would be very sick in a short space of time. Jingling bells, he heard jingling bells. Olivia had a set of pink leather reins and was fitting them round his chest. He heard a click to his right and then another to his left as he was secured to the D-rings on his harness by connecting to tethers attached to the base of the cot. He tried to get to his knees but he was completely restrained. The cot side slid up with a whoosh and he heard the reassuring sound as the two catches snapped into place. He felt totally safe again and he lay back as his dream state continued.

A carousel of little animals circled above, in time to the tinkling of a music box, a flying penguin, a soaring giraffe and an airborne piggy made him giggle behind his dummy. A line of brightly coloured balls stretched from one side of his cot to the other and he tried to kick them with his feet. He caught one with his hand and it twanged on the elastic making a large noise. He did it again and could not resist making a satisfying gurgle.

A large soft blanket was pulled over him and tucked in tightly, curtains were pulled and the room became dim. Andy soaked up his dream, reliving memories that had been dormant for thirty years. Wonderful times when he had been the centre of his mummy’s universe. Free of stress, everything done for him, no need to worry about money, bills, or the competition to climb the corporate ladder. No need to worry about finding a toilet, it was fine to wet the bed, it was perfectly acceptable to crawl along and drop a big poo in the back of your nappy, because you were a baby. You were always protected, always being cleaned and perfumed, always swaddled in love and softness. Sitting in a wet and filthy nappy was not so bad, but being changed in to a warm, soft nappy fresh out the airing cupboards was so special.

He felt himself drifting into a peaceful sleep, he didn’t know if his life was real or imagined but it was not a problem. He pulled his cuddle nappy comforter to his cheek and rubbed it against his dummy. His head now devoid of hair was warm and snug in his woolly bonnet. Gentle music came through the air buds fitted in the sides for his baby headwear. A gentle melody added to his sleepiness but did he hear a female voice in the background? He suddenly had the picture in his mind of a teenage boy wearing a nappy, this was quickly followed by the feeling that this was perfectly normal. In the next vision he was pleading to be treated like an incontinent baby. He smiled behind his dummy and slowly fell into a deep sleep.

[antonia]

Chapter 5

At some time during the night he was fed a bottle of milk and he felt himself drifting down a deep hole from which there seemed no escape. His dreams were full of vivid pictures of children of all ages being put in nappies by their nannies, their mummies and even their siblings. They all seemed carefree and happy.

He awoke, the room was in darkness and he had no idea what time of day it was. His brain felt scrambled, full of daft thoughts about being a baby again. Slowly, his dream wafted away and the real nightmare of his life rushed back. He was securely pinned to his cot by a leather harness that jingled whenever he moved. His mouth was filled with a large baby’s dummy that he seemed to be enjoying. Worse than that he was swaddled in a nappy that was wet and uncomfortable. He went to tackle the straps that restrained him and realised that his hands were disabled by fiendish mittens that prevented him from undoing anything.

Andy tried to piece together the muddle that he was trapped in. He spat out his dummy and tried to gnaw through the straps that restrained his mittens. Amazingly one strap came away quite easily and in no time he had freed his hand. He then freed his other hand and finally was out of his baby harness. He felt weak, so unbelievably weak.

Off came the straps securing his feet and with some careful fiddling around in the dark, he managed to lower the cot rail. He stealthily got out of the cot and gently made his way to the blackouts that were fitted to the nursery window. It must have been about midday judging by the position of the sun. He ripped at the snaps between his legs of the onesie and wriggled the terry nappies and plastic pants down his legs in one piece. They were sodden. There was no time to hang around and he picked up a pair of thick terry training pants and put them on. He shook some baby powder into them to cover the smell of his wetting. The pink onesie joined the pile on the floor. He opened the wardrobe, it was full of baby dresses in his size. He undid his bib and added it to the heap. He looked through the drawers, but there was nothing to wear that he could be seen in outside of the house.

There were nappies and more nappies and so many different plastic pants but nothing to escape in. In the bathroom he found towels, a babyish robe with a hood that he put on in the absence of anything better. He went back into the nursery and tried the door, it was not locked! He felt almost a jolt of pure joy. The house was quiet, where could Olivia be? What day was it and how long had he been locked up?

He found her bedroom, where her bed was made and all was neat and tidy. He looked for his clothes, but there was nothing. He helped himself to a set of her joggers which fit him quite well and found a T-shirt that wasn’t too girly. He thanked the saints that he was of a small build. He found no shoes.

Slowly he crept downstairs to look for his stuff, then to his horror he saw a large plastic bag that contained all his clothes that had been slashed and ripped. His shoes had been sawn in half, he was dumbfounded. There was nothing to be salvaged and nothing he could use. He searched for his keys, wallet, mobile phone and purse but there was nothing, not a trace. There were no cars in the street, on the driveway or in the integral garage. What had she done with his car?

The house had no telephone, like most modern people she relied on her mobile. Her computer was useless to him as it was password protected. The front door was locked as was the back door, all the windows were secured and he could not see an obvious route of escape.

His feeling of despair was not helped by a wave of warm wetness filling his training pants. She had rendered him incontinent and he was wetting his pants like a toddler. He clutched himself in an attempt to slow the flow, but it was too late. He felt the legs of the joggers slowly get wetter and wetter as his pee ran down each leg. He ran to the kitchen to save her carpets. He stopped in amazement, there were baby clothes and nappies all over the room, at least a dozen freshly laundered and dried nappies on the table. A laundry basket full of wet nappies that had recently come out of the washing machine and more than a dozen pairs of plastic pants piled neatly on a chair. Nappy pins were linked together like a bracelet.

In the sink were half a dozen baby bottles, washed and draining. On a work surface were bottles of pills, lots of them, enough to put down an army. He scanned the labels and was confounded by what he saw. On the wall was a television, which he turned on. It was the lunch time news. He saw the date, no it was impossible, he had been there over six weeks.

He took off the joggers and pants, picked up two nappies, some pins and plastic pants and put himself back in the protection he now needed so badly. He did not notice the CCTV camera follow him round the kitchen as he sorted himself out.

[Baby Mac]

Great to see you back and where you are taking the story. It looks like he's discovering his prison and i love that she's using hypnosis. I hope it gets darker where he has to escape and fight back but she has all the cards. Thanks for returning!

[antonia]

Sorry for the delays but exceptionally busy at the moment!