Allison’s Minor Felony
Stirrups really are loathsome things. Waiting
on a table with your legs splayed open like a turkey waiting to be
stuffed is embarrassing enough under ordinary medical circumstances.
Being restrained to the table under court order is humiliation on an
almost cosmic level.
They used to punish criminals in prisons but
those days are over. Someone finally figured out that it made them
tougher and was a badge of honor. So some genius decided to try the
exact reverse: compulsory tenderness. Thugs and hooligans found
themselves confined to oversized nurseries with motherly matrons
(and one or two oversized daddies for behavior
problems) where they were kept in a state of
regression until they unlearned their aggressive ways.
At least, that was the idea. The success of
the idea was as much a matter of pure humiliation as it was of
behavior modification. Street toughs found the process so
destructive to their sense of self and status that they would do
anything to avoid it…even obey the law.
In time, the idea was expanded to non-violent
lawbreakers until some form of regression was the
expected sentence for convicted felons. This
I found myself strapped into stirrups at the
local correctional nursery. I had been caught embezzling and
Six months. I was to spend six months diapered
9 month old. As a non-violent offender I was
to serve my sentence while free to walk the streets, with an ankle
monitor, and a curfew, and a bedtime I had to obey if I wanted to
stay out of a full time nursery.
Twice each day I was to report to the nursery
for changing. Once a day I would be given an enema. Four times a
week I was to be paddled. These paddlings would be given during
changing times and would be assigned at random so I’d never know
if I was to simply be changed or put over a matron’s lap as well.
At least I got to keep my job despite my
pilfering. I kept the privilege of going to work every day with
people who knew what I did and what price I was paying.
I reported to the nursery first thing in the
morning on the day after my sentencing and was warmly welcomed by
Matron Emily (she gently asked me to call her Emy).
I had been assigned to her and she would be
overseeing my compliance.
“I have a new baby, how splendid!” Emy
cooed as she embraced me in a bear hug that lifted my feet from the
floor. She had the air of kindly grandmother but outweighed me by
about three stones and I knew I couldn’t resist even if wanted to
do so. She led me into a powder blue papered room containing a
couple shelves of teddy bears, a few stools, a dresser and a table
topped with a jar of cream, a hair brush, a few wide ribbons, some
slippers and no door. We sat on the stools, went through a few short
paperwork checks then Emy got to her feet.
“Right then, let’s get straight to
business. Shall we? We’ll need to get you out of those clothes for
a start. Please stand up.”
I got to my feet and my legs felt strangely
They trembled slightly as Emy tenderly helped
me to undress. She removed my blouse and placed it, neatly folded,
in the dresser. The same was done with my shoes, socks and pants. I
stood barefoot and goose pimpled in my bra and panties and found
myself unable to look Emy in the eyes.
“You’ll need to remove the rest yourself,
dear.” Emy sweetly directed as she sat on the stool and watched
I removed my bra and stepped out of my panties
then tried to fold them as neatly as I could manage with my shaking
hands before handing them to her. She took them and placed them in
the dresser before turning to examine me. I almost fainted when she
reached out and took a pinch of my pubic hair in her fingers.
“Now, this just won’t do but we’ll fix
it later. It’s time for your binky. Open up.”
She held out what looked like a cross between
a oversized pacifier and a mouthgaurd…soft pink with a loose ring
in the front. I allowed my mouth to fall open and she gently
inserted it then used her fingertips to softly raise my jaw and
bring my teeth together. As soon as my mouth was closed the
mouthgaurd part bonded to my teeth so I could not open my mouth
although my teeth were held apart. I felt the bulb swell inside my
mouth until the soft material filled it from cheek to cheek.
Finally, the front part pressed itself down and sealed itself around
my mouth. My hands reflexively moved to my mouth and found that the
edges of the front completely covered
my lips and then some. And, while the front
of a very pliable material, I could not even
slightly peel it away from my face. Emy made no attempt to stop me
but simply watched me with a syrupy smile until I had finished and
my hands dropped to my sides.
I glanced at Emy with beseeching but not
She had put away my undergarments in the
dresser and produced a pair of panties that she held forth for me to
step into. I complied and she pulled them up my legs and over my
hips as she hummed a little ditty.
They were full cut white cotton panties with
little red dots. My hands ran over my backside and found the back
panel was made of portentously thin material.
Emy again let me explore my dilemma while she
got the ribbons from the table.
“Turn around, dearie.” She said as she
motioned her hands.
I nervously suckled on the binky as I willed
my bare feet to turn on the soft carpet. Emy then bound my hands
together and I found the ribbon was made of some soft material that
felt like a small child could effortlessly shred. That was until I
tried to pull my hands apart.
“These new restraints are simply marvelous.
Perfectly comfy if you stay still but the harder you pull, the
stronger they get. And yet the coating still stays nice and soft so
as not to injure tender baby’s skin.”
While she said this I watched as she put a
stool in the middle of room and got the jar, hairbrush and a slipper
as my eyes widened with shock.
It had been many years, not since I was a very
little girl, since I had had a spanking. And never had it been with
anything other than a bare hand. Emy effortlessly pulled me over her
lap and clamped her left arm to my waist so my backside was
helplessly exposed. I was already starting to cry.
The hairbrush made contact with no warning.
The sharp swat was followed by a second on the other side. It was a
while before another fell. It was the first paddling of my life and
I was given a few moments to think about what it felt like. My skin
felt compressed and a fiery prickling was smoldering over my bottom.
My eyes were clamped shut and I was forcing ragged breath through my
nose. I found my knees crossing each other as my body tried to
absorb the throbbing pain.
Then the real spanking began. One smack after
another fell on each inch of my searing bottom. I was struggling to
get away and my legs were kicking the air but I was held resolutely
in place as the nonstop chastisement continued until my tears turned
into gulping sobs silenced by the pacifier.
Emy then switched from the brush to the
slipper and resumed spanking me. The slipper didn’t have the
deeper impact of the brush but it stung my already roasting skin. My
legs still occasionally kicked out or stomped the floor but I mostly
lay limp as my bawling tears wet the carpet.
I don’t know how long she had stopped before
I noticed. I just realized at some point that my wrists had been
freed and my arms were around her as she held me to her. Her blouse
had been soaked by my tears.
She opened the jar of cream and pulled me back
over her lap. I eagerly fell into place, desperate for something to
cool my blistered bottom. She pulled down my panties and generously
applied the cream. She then had me stand up with my panties around
my ankles and step out of them before taking my hand and walking me,
naked but for the binky, to a nearby room. Though my head was
swimming by then and I could barely think I did realized for the
first time that there were many people who could see me now and that
my spanking had been fully in view to anyone who passed by. I also
realized that the cream didn’t seem to be making my bottom feel
any better. Emy seemed to have read my mind.
“That cream is wonderful for helping baby
girls learn their lessons. It holds in the heat for now and keeps
the skin nice and soft for later spankings.”
I whimpered a little at this news as we
entered the new room. While it was still colored in soft pastels, it
was more of a medical room with a malevolent looking table in the
center and what looked like a medium sized generator except for the
tubing coming from it. I had no chance to ask what was happening
before I was on the table face down. My torso was angled downhill
while my legs were kneeling over the end. Straps made of the same
material as the ribbons were used to bind me to the table. My hips
and thighs were especially restrained to the table which seemed to
have molded itself my body and was soft yet rigid everywhere except
for some kid of rubber diaphragm under my belly.
Having trussed me so completely, she pulled on
gloves and began to apply jelly to my anus. I had started to regain
my composure after the spanking and this sent a fresh wave of
anxiety through me. Adding to the distress was the fact that I now
was aware of how exposed I was to anyone passing by…as they seemed
to be doing on a regular basis. I was trying to protest but the
pacifier made my efforts utterly pointless. I was blushing halfway
down my chest when I felt the nozzle enter my bottom.
It seemed like a small nozzle and easily slid
into place but then it seemed to expand. Rings on each side of my
anus widened and then moved together to create a watertight seal.
Emy then pressed a button on the machine and I heard it come to
She placed a stool by my head and lowered my
head support. As the machine began to work, she embraced my head in
The machine worked with the mechanical
efficiency of a automatic car wash. A hot stream was flooded into my
vulnerable body followed by agitating waves. I was then drained and
refilled with even more fluid. I soon realized the rubber diaphragm
was intended to allow my belly to swell under the increasing aquatic
loads. I found myself sobbing onto Emy’s blouse again.
The machine had drained me again and I was
bracing myself for a larger load when I heard it make a cheery
little tune that got Emy’s attention.
“Ah good, all done. The first one is always
the worst. So much naughtiness to clean out.” She chimed as she
extracted the nozzle and unbound me. As she helped me up she reached
between my legs and pinched my pubic hair again. “Now, let’s
take care of this nonsense.”
And so I found myself unclothed and strapped
to that table with my feet in the stirrups for all to see.
Emy left me like that for a while whilst she
went to get what I knew she would use to remove my poor pubic hair.
It started with an old-fashioned razor that she used to remove the
surface hair. She sat between my legs and applied a hot towel that
she rubbed in small circles for several minutes. I began to grow
aroused despite myself as she applied gel over my bikini area and
smiled at me as she waited a few minutes for the gel to soak in.
Then she started to shave me. Long strokes and short daps wiped away
any sign of maturity. She took a long time as she tugged on my most
tender parts to assure a smooth shave. I only wished that I could
close my legs as I felt my nipples harden.
She then applied the cream. The cream would
work its way into the skin where it would dissolve the hair then
disable the follicle. One application would leave you bare for a
year or two. A second could mean the hair would never grow again. Of
course it had to be rubbed in well. Emy applied a substantial layer
and massaged it around my swollen and soaking parts taking no
trouble to avoid brushing them over and over. I was overwhelmed by
shame when I realized I was perilously close to the edge and would
have begged her to put her tongue between my thighs if only I could
“No, no. Maybe some other time if you earn
it. For now, let’s get you in your diaper.”
I was released from my restraints but my hands
were bound again before I was marched, naked as a jaybird (even more
so with my shorn and still very engorged mound on display) to a
diapering chamber. On the way we passed through a set of double
secured doors marked “secured nursery”.
Viewing the machine for the first time, I
almost fainted as I wholly realized I actually was going to spend
six months in diapers. The entire place had a lingering aroma of
baby powder and oil but the scent permeated this room. It was, of
course entirely open to observation. The walls were a pale pink and
it had the usual babyish touches of a couple of teddy bears and a
rattle. In the center was the diapering machine. It seemed like a
well padded examination table, was obviously designed to hold its
occupant securely and was currently occupied.
A young man was restrained to the table with
an open diaper under his bottom. He might have been in his 20’s
but looked pre-pubescent in his state. He had no body hair at all,
his hands were wearing mittens that made them useless and his feet
were wrapped in some kind of booties that forced him to keep his
toes pointed down. He also, of course, had a binky in his mouth. We
had entered just as it had finished powdering him. It then brought
the diaper up between his legs and sealed it.
When it was done, his matron released him and
helped him to the floor. With those booties on, he could only crawl.
As he was starting to be led away he noticed me for the first time.
As he looked up at me I remembered that I was stark naked and tried
to cover myself only to be reminded of my restraints.
Embarrassed as I was, as I saw him crawl away
in his fresh diaper, I felt a little less sorry for myself.
Of course now it was my turn. As I watched the
boy leave, the machine had sterilized itself and was ready for a
fresh occupant. Emy led me to the machine and had me lay down on it.
As Emy strapped me in place the table, like the one in the enema
room, took a few seconds to mold itself to my body for extra
I found myself with my arms overhead, my torso
secured and my legs bound to several multi-jointed arms.
“I used to do the diapering by hand and I
really miss it. Still, I must admit this does it so well. At least I
can set it to manual so I can control the process.” As she said
this she produced what looked like a remote control.
She took a seat behind me where she was hidden
from my view but could see every inch of me. I heard her click on a
button. Fluid was sprayed onto my diaper area and a soft rotating
brush began to clean me.
This seemed unnecessary since it was my first
time and I didn’t need to be cleaned. But Emy seemed to enjoy
watching me writhe as it spent an extended time cleaning between my
lips then cleaning my bottom which turned me on far more than I’d
care to admit. When it was done polishing me, a light scanned my
body before a female voice declared “Size: small, Shape: 7”. My
ankles were brought together and lifted up so my bottom rose up a
few inches from the table. The machine extracted a diaper on a tray
from the wall. I knew it was futile but I still tried to pull away
as I saw the diaper slide into place under my bottom.
Another few clicks and a nozzle appeared that
sprayed a generous amount of powder onto my bottom. The arms then
set me down and I felt contact with a diaper for the first time in
decades. It then spread my legs open and sprayed powder over my
front. Some more clicks and clamps took hold of the bottom half of
the diaper and lifted it up so that it wrapped itself around my
bottom and cradled it. Another set of clamps took hold of the front
half of the diaper. I knew this was it. I shut my eyes and tried to
pretend I wasn’t about to be imprisoned in that diaper.
But Emy wasn’t done playing yet. A few more
clicks and a soft cloth began to oil me. Right between my lips. A
second brush applied oil between my cheeks with frequent stops at
the entrance. Emy seemed to have direct control over them as the
first one was tracing my lips with maddening thoroughness and even
slipping inside me. I tried to hide that I was about to come so she
wouldn’t stop it but she did anyway.
“Now just remember why you want to be a good
baby girl for Emy.” She whispered in my ear as I struggled to
touch my button to the cloth now inches away.
Another click and the headrest rose so that I
was forced to look down at my diaper area. Then the restraints
stiffened as if I had been struggling and my legs were spread open
wider. The front of the diaper moved up. It advanced with deliberate
speed so I could feel each inch press between my legs as I watched
my body being imprisoned. The front settled into place on my belly
and the back was stretched around my sides until it joined the
front. A blue light was shone over the seams that set the adhesive
along the entire seam so the diaper became wholly joined. The light
was then passed over the waist and leg holes causing the edges to
seal themselves to my skin. It was done.
Emy released me from the restraints, brought
me to my feet and bound my hands again. I felt the weight of the
diaper and the bulk between my legs as I meekly allowed myself to be
led away. At least I did until realized that I wasn’t returning to
the front area but deeper into the secured nursery. There had to be
a mistake. I was supposed to go home now not get put into lock up. I
tried to pull away but Emy stopped me at once.
“Now you be good or you’ll regret it. You’ve
been a very good baby so far and I want it to stay that way.”
I knew it was hopeless. My head dropped and I
submitted to being led away with the hope that it would be corrected
soon. We passed through another set of double doors and entered an
inmate nursery. I was surprised to see men and women until I
realized that sex was simply not an option here and embarrassment is
the basis of the system. Cribs were set in the walls around the room
and much of the area was set up for play with toys. The inmates
were, of course, all diapered and in various states of restraint
ranging from simple mittens to elaborate devices enforcing babyish
postures. Most had pacifiers although a few particularly docile
inmates did not.
I was taken to a rocking chair where Emy made
me drink a bottle on her lap as she rocked us. I was then taken
directly to a crib were I was placed. Once inside, the bars were
brought up and I heard them lock shut. A flat and heavy blanket was
lowered in front of the cage that shut out light and most noise.
Exhausted and defeated from the long morning,
I curled up under the blanket and cried myself to sleep.
I couldn’t tell if I had slept for minutes
or hours but I was woken by the need to use the girl’s room.
It wasn’t very bad and I could have ignored
it for a while except that I remembered that I couldn’t go to the
girl’s room since I was wearing a diaper. And I was locked in a
crib. Under a blanket. In a correctional nursery.
I touched my diaper for the first time. The
seams were perfectly sealed. I tried to pull at the shell but it was
far to tough for me to tear or even warp despite being buttery soft
to the touch. The inside lining was soft against my skin. The
problem was the filler. It was made of some semi-solid gel that made
the diaper about an inch thick. Unless I wore very loose skirt,
there was no way I’d conceal this thing.
And, while it wasn’t actually heavy, it did
weigh enough to be a constant reminder of it presence. And it was
just waiting for me to wet myself. I rubbed the outside of the
diaper and found that, between the thickness of the filler and the
give of the shell, I couldn’t play with myself through it.
Desperately horny from the teasing, I tried to slide my hand inside
the diaper and found that I couldn’t get past the seal. The glue
holding the diaper to my skin was as strong as that sealing the
seams. A quick check of the leg holes found them just as impervious
to my attempts.
And I still had to go. It was getting worse. I
knew that I’d have to give in and use that diaper in due course
but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I sat back against the rear
bars of the crib to rock myself and try to hold it in.
Then a small light clicked on over the crib.
It was a dim light but I could see around. As I rocked myself and
examined the baby bears decorating the walls the light got brighter.
When Emy lifted the blanket I realized that it was to let me get
used to the light before the blanket was lifted and the daylight
flooded in. She lowered the bars and took me to the feeding area
where she spoon fed me lunch. It was halfway through the peas that I
did it. I hid my face as I wet my diaper there where dozens of
people could see.
Emy held me as I broke down again.
After lunch, I was taken back to the diapering
machine. The wetness added noticeable weight to my diaper as we
walked. As I passed a clock, I saw that it was evening and I had
been there for almost twelve hours. After I was strapped down, the
machine scanned my diaper before it cut it open.
“It checks for tampering before each change.
Pray it never finds any.”
I was cleaned for real this time, powdered and
sealed into a fresh diaper. I was then, with a breath of relief, led
back to the first room where Emy sat me down for a talk to explain
“We always keep our new babies locked up
until their first changing. This is to let you know what will happen
if you break a rule so if you ever think you don’t like being free
to go home remember what will happen. Also, I like to see it when a
baby wets for the first time. It’s such a special moment. I don’t
think you’ll be a bad girl so I just let you nap most of your time
away but do know that it can be much worse than that.
“You are to report here for a diaper change
and enema every morning at 8:30 and a second change every evening at
8:30. Do not be late. You never know when you’ll also be paddled
so be sure to schedule extra time for it. You are to be home every
night by 9:30 so be sure to hurry home when you leave here tonight.
And you are to be in bed by 10 where you will
stay without exception until 6. Also, you will put your binky in
your mouth before going to bed. It will automatically release in the
morning…just don’t accidentally put it in before bed or you’ll
be stuck with it until the next 6 AM. You will be monitored and, if
you so much as fall out of bed by accident, it will be a violation
so I’d get some rails if I were you. Further, you are allowed no
smoking, alcohol, restricted movies or any right or privilege that
requires you to be a legal adult. And you are absolutely not to
tamper with your diapers.
“A first violation means you’ll spend two
days as an inmate. A second means a week and it will be doubled for
every violation thereafter. And you will serve all inmate time you
earn even if it goes beyond your set sentence. I should note, very
few go six months without a violation since we are so strict. You be
very careful, then.
“This being your first night, you will be
sent home with your binky in place where it will stay until the
morning. You should also know that we will be monitoring you for
your safety as well as your compliance. We are responsible for you
while you are my baby. Anyone who so much as grabs your bottom will
find themselves in one of our cribs for a long time.
Now, get dressed and I will see you in the
Emy walked out. Now, I am on my own to get
dressed and leave alone. I can barely get my pants to close over the
bulk of my diaper. I will need to get some new clothes tomorrow. For
tonight, I will walk home past crowds of people who might not touch
me but would see my disgrace. Tomorrow, I have to return here for a
fresh diaper and maybe a paddling then I have to go to work and look
into the eyes of people I betrayed.
Tonight, I will sleep with my teddy in a bed I
can’t leave. I wonder how I’ll get to the bathroom? Oh, right. I
won’t have to worry about that for a long time.
Why can’t I stop crying?