They Always Get Used

This story contains descriptions of nursery discipline and humiliation. If these are of no interest to you then I suggest you don't read any further.

********

Her look told me I shouldn't have said it. She let the astonishment hover on her face for a few seconds, then shook her head.

'You're telling me what you will and won't do?'

I hesitated, unsure whether it was a statement or a question

'I asked you a question.'

'Yes Ma'am, sorry Ma'am. It's just...arrr...nappies...I hate them!' I blurted out.

'I know you do. Which is even more reason why you're going to be wearing them all this weekend.'

'Please...I...'

'Excuse me!' she said in that firm, steady voice that always pulled me up instantly. I swallowed nervously.

'I've had just about enough of you and your difficulty in adjusting to being a sissybaby.' The term hung in the air, tormenting me as always.

'You obviously need yet another lesson in obedience, I can see that.'

Mistress Rose's rule regarding wearing a nappy was simple and explicit: a nappy never came off until it was used. I could resist and delay filling it for as long as I liked but that little display of resistance on my part ultimately made no difference.

And whether it was number ones or twos -or both- would be spelt out to me each time she swaddled me in one.

I hated it, hated the humiliation of soiling myself and then being made to wear the sopping, soggy mess for whatever length of time she decided on.

'Follow me.'

We walked down the hallway, entering the Punishment Room.

She pointed to the tiled section of the floor, adjacent to the sink and tub.

'Floor. In the position for a cleansing.'

I automatically obeyed despite knowing how cold the tiles would be against my bare skin. I shivered as I adjusted my body, right side down, right leg bent, left leg over it, head resting on my outstretched right arm, left arm bent forward.

I heard the cupboard open and close behind me, then the tap running, something being squeezed, my dread deepening. But I had no one to blame but myself. After all, a simple rule is a simple rule. And the simplest rule was this: Mistress Rose expected total obedience.

'If I didn't know you better, I'd think you were a masochist. After all, you seem to love punishment.'

A statement, not a question. I bit my lip, aware that her punishments were always designed to find their way deep into my submissive psyche.

'Are you a masochist, sissybaby?'

My mouth was dry, terribly dry. I swallowed before responding.

'No Ma'am' I said quietly.

'Well, you'll just have to endure the punishment without any pleasures then!" she said with a mocking laugh.

I heard the rubber gloves being snapped over her hands. I sighed and closed my eyes, trying to block out what was coming. My bare cheeks were parted and the lubricated nozzle entered my rear.

'I'll return in a few minutes.' I felt the warm liquid enter me as Mistress Rose passed out the door.

The enema seemed to go on for an age, with more liquid entering my bowels than on any of her previous cleansings. But perhaps that was my agitated state of mind running away with my thoughts.

She came back in and placed some things on the floor behind me, then I heard the run of fine chains going through the ceiling eyelets.

I heard her squeeze the bag hanging off the ceiling hook. 'A fine mess this is going to make, I assure you.' Of that I had little doubt.

I was an idiot, I should have just bit my tongue in the first place, put up with it again for another night...and dirty morning.

I was a sissy, and wanted desperately to be a good sissy for Mistress. But my notion of being a good sissy had never extended to being a sissybaby. Mistress Rose thought otherwise. And that was what she was training me to understand. That, and being obedient, in every possible way.

Six weeks under her rules, six weeks where I found myself in nappies several times. I took a deep breath and swore that after tonight I was going to accept being put through nappy discipline. Because that's what she wanted to subject me to at times.

The liquid stopped flowing and the nozzle was withdrawn in one quick movement. My bowels felt full though not yet uncomfortable.

'Stand up and turn and face me.' I did as I was told.

'Stand here, legs straddling this, arms out in front of you.' I moved over to where she pointed.

A large stainless-steel bowl lay on the tiles just behind the floor eyelets.

She placed a babyish, knitted fluffy pink cardigan on me, followed by matching bonnet and mitts. An oversized dummy was popped in my mouth: the ties hanging from its sides were done up at the back of my neck.

'Arms up, over your head.' Cuffs went around the mitts and were then secured to the eyelet above me. 'Almost done.'

She removed a small key from the pocket of her skirt, inserted it into the lock on the pink silicone chastity cage I wore and removed the device.

She took hold of my small, squashed clitty and stretched it out then back under my scrotum and through the ring piercing there, securing it in place by locking the small ring on my foreskin to it.

'Now you can wee-wee like a little girl again,' she said with a chuckle.

'Lift your right leg up.' A pink knitted bootie went over my ankle. 'The other leg.' Same again. Both fluffy ankles were then cuffed and secured to the eyelet in front of me by short chains.

My stomach made a rumble, the pressure inside me growing more intense.

'Squat.' The chains above me ran through the eyelet as I lowered myself into position. She adjusted my stance slightly then locked the pulley chain to prevent me moving up or down any further.

She moved in front of me, fixing me with her intense stare. 'I'm going to sit down in that chair over there and watch you fill that bowl. But you're not to start until I say so. Is that clear?'

I nodded my head in acknowledgement. She removed the latex gloves from her hands, dropping them on the tiles in front of me. 'Very good.'

She turned and I watched her make her way to the chair. As she sat down my eyes went to the clock above her. My stomach tightened - I knew I'd be wanting to evacuate very soon. 'How many minutes, how many?' I screamed to myself.

'Ten minutes', she said, as she picked up a magazine from the small table beside her.

'Oh gawd.' I exhaled slowly and closed my eyes, concentrating, concentrating. I knew I'd be punished even more firmly if I failed to follow her simple instruction. ''Mustn't be naughty, mustn't be naughty...'

Squatting meant I couldn't close my legs - all I could do was clamp my sphincter as tightly as possible in a desperate attempt to hold everything inside me.

The pressure inside grew more and more intense, finally becoming painful. The tick-tock of the clock sounded loud, so ponderous, so slow.

'Five minutes,' I heard her say. I opened my eyes to see the second hand drag slowly forward. I had to make it, had to! I closed my eyes again.

'Two minutes.'

Two minutes...'I didn't think I was going to make it. 'Please, please!'

'One minute. And when you do evacuate, you'd better get it all in the bowl. No splashes on the tiles. Or else.'

I grimaced and looked down, wondering desperately if the 15-centimetre gap between my bum and the bowl was too great to get everything in.

'Thirty seconds.' Ooooo....

'Ten seconds. And then I expect release on the exact count...five, four, three, two, one, and...release!'

My hole opened up, the liquid gushing out in a torrent. Relief swept over me - I prayed everything was going into the bowl. Luckily, I didn't feel like peeing - I knew from experience how hard it was to get every bit of wee-wee into the bowl from this position.

'You'll stay there a while longer until I'm certain you've emptied your bowel.' She picked up the magazine again.

I stayed there another ten minutes, letting the rest of the watery brown liquid find its gravitation course.

'That should do.'

She rose and came over next to me, studying the floor in front of me.

'Dear oh dear, look at that,' she said, shaking her head. I looked down, observing numerous splashes around the bowl.

'And all over those tiles I have you keep spic and span.'

'And on your booties. Tsk-tsk.'

My head slumped but then her long fingers lifted my chin up to meet her hazel-coloured eyes.

'I did give you specific instructions, didn't I?'

Those beautiful eyes...I nodded slowly.

'Well, you know the rules. Break a rule and it's a punishment, isn't it?'

Again, a nod. 'Let's see, your bottom may be a little tender after this morning's rather dramatic caning so I may just revert to something else. Mmmm...'

I shut my mind down not wanting to contemplate what else could befall me. 'I know.'

She moved across the room behind me. I heard the lid of a jar being opened. And then another pair of latex gloves being donned. She came back in front of me. I pulled a pained face when I saw what was in her hands.

'Let's get that sissyclit out from its comfy little home.'

She unlocked my clitty, pulled it several times to lengthen it. She took her hand away and dipped two fingers into the tub, removing a large dollop of the sticky orangey gel. I grimaced, knowing full well what was about to happen.

She smeared the thick cream over my smooth, bare scrotum, rubbing it in vigorously. The heat came on in waves, at first warm, then warmer, then crashing over me in a crescendo of heat. Her hand withdrew -- her fingers went back into the jar.

Another huge dollop, this one rubbed over my clitty and clitty balls. She stepped back and pulled the gloves off.

'You can reflect on your disobedience for the next little while.' She moved back over to the chair.

The heat of the cream hit me with full force. I groaned, and in intense pain, attempted to double over...except I was still chained to the ceiling hoist.

I took a big breath and started on my internal chant: 'I must learn to be more obedient. I must learn to be more submissive. I must...'