by Penny Birch
I snuggled down into the bed as the door closed behind her and stuck my thumb in my mouth, sucking happily as I wondered what was in store for me. Having passed Anna’s test, it seemed fair to hope that there would be no more beatings from her, so long as I was good, and Poppy had promised. That meant I didn’t have to worry about my poor, abused bottom any more and could get thoroughly into role, relying on Poppy to do what was needed. She seemed to have a considerable understanding of my fantasy, presumably because Anna treated her the same way during nappy punishment, even if it was to humiliate her.
It was warm and cosy, and I felt completely relaxed. I hadn’t intended to sleep but I did, waking to the sound of the door being opened. It was Poppy.
‘Lunchtime,’ she announced. ‘Miss Vale says you’re to come down and eat with us. It’s your favourite, bangers and mash.’
I managed a smile and stretched, still trying to get my head around the situation as I returned to consciousness. Poppy went to pick up my body stocking, shaking it out.
‘In your suit,’ she ordered. ‘Sit on the bed and I’ll help you.’
I swung my legs out, still sleepy as she began to invert the body stocking. As always, she was brisk and efficient, after inverting it, pushing on one foot, then the second, before rolling it up my legs. I stood to allow her to pull it up over my nappy, and helped with the last bit.
It wasn’t something I’d tried before and it felt strange, but undeniably good. For one thing it made my nappy feel tighter and created an unmistakable bulge around my hips, leaving no doubt that although I was decent I was still in nappies. Fairly decent anyway, because it was tight across my chest and the outlines of my breasts showed, along with my nipples. It felt appropriate too, babyish, or rather grown-up babyish, as there was no doubt at all it looked sexual.
Poppy took me by the hand again to lead me downstairs. As with the rest of the house, there was nothing modern about the kitchen. Even the refrigerator was an old-fashioned model, and I began to wonder what it would cost to live the way they did, before pushing the thought out as inappropriate. Poppy had been cooking and it did smell good, although bangers and mash would not have been my normal choice for lunch. The amount she’d made was not normal either, a huge pile of mashed potato, stuck with sausages and topped with boiled cabbage and a large knob of butter. I thought it was for all three of us until she had sat me down and put the plate in front of me, along with a wooden spoon.
‘Do you need to be fed?’ she asked.
‘I’m…I am not sure I can even eat that much, Nurse,’ I managed.
‘Nonsense,’ Anna Vale spoke from behind me.
It was a single word, but it carried a strong implication of caned bottoms. I was not going to argue.
‘Yes, Miss Vale,’ I answered her.
‘There’s a good girl,’ she said, ‘and my, don’t you look pretty?’
‘I’d better feed her,’ Poppy said. ‘Just to make sure.’
‘Absolutely,’ Anna agreed.
I waited as Poppy served out their own plates, both with about a third as much food as was on mine. Poppy took my spoon and scooped up some mashed potato and cabbage, so much I had to gape wide to take it in.
‘Good girl,’ she said as I struggled to swallow it. ‘There we are, that wasn’t so bad, was it?’
It was actually excellent, which was just as well. I was made to eat every single bit, until the plate was scraped clean, and wash it down with a pint of orange squash. By the time I’d finished my stomach was a hard, round ball beneath my body stocking, uncomfortably full. I actually felt slightly sick, and was praying they didn’t intend to make me do anything energetic in the afternoon, or at least not for several hours.
Nor was it the end. There was jelly and custard for dessert, and again I was spoon-fed by Poppy and made to swallow down every single mouthful. Neither of them had any, and I was left feeling dizzy and bloated, holding my tummy through my body stocking. I was even wondering if making me sick was part of what they intended for me and whether I could cope.
It wasn’t. After lunch I was sent to my room and simply left to my own devices. I lay on the bed, curled up, just sucking my thumb and thinking. It felt beautiful; detached, safe. Even the strain in my tummy subsided to a pleasant sensation of fullness after a while. Outside my window the sky was a clear eggshell blue, criss-crossed with vapour trails. I watched them dissipate, a new one form, and that in turn dissipate. Nothing else served to mark the passage of time, allowing me to slip into a pleasant, half-aware state, absolutely relaxed.
Nothing was going to disturb me – not Monty, with his hard cock and cruel fantasies; not a client, in distress because her boyfriend had wanted her to go halves in a restaurant, or refused to go halves; nothing. There was no tension, no pressure, no phone to ring, no emails coming in. If Poppy wanted something of me, that would be all right; she was my nurse. Even then it would be she who took charge, she who decided what to do. For me, there was simply no responsibility whatever.
Before long the orange juice I had been made to drink began to take effect. I simply let go, with my eyes closed in bliss as my pee gushed out into my nappy to leave the towelling soggy and warm around my bottom and sex. That felt better still, just lying in my wet nappy on my side, with a wet patch spreading slowly out across the rear of my body stocking. I put my hand back to touch, feeling the bulge of my nappy, the heavy, squashy feeling of the wet towelling and the damp wool where my piddle had leaked out.
I turned bottom up, and for a while I just stroked myself, letting the erotic side of my fantasy rise up once more to find a balance with the delicious sense of irresponsibility. I knew I was going to masturbate eventually, when I needed it, but there was no hurry, none at all. For one thing my body suit would have to come down, and I liked the feel of it, especially the way it made my nappy tighter and the wet patch that now covered my whole bottom.
Both hands went back to squeeze my cheeks through the nappy and pull it tighter up into the crease of my bottom and against my sex. It felt delicious and I cocked my legs apart, lifting my bottom further to get the material in between my sex-lips. I felt the pee squeeze out as I tugged, to trickle down and on to the bed. Briefly I wondered if I’d be punished, but the wet towelling was against my clitoris and it was too late. It was too late to stop either, and I realised that I was not going to have to take my bodysuit down at all.
I began to tug at the rear of my nappy, each jerk rubbing the wet material on my sex and squashing out more pee over my bottom. It was difficult, but I knew it would happen, and focussed as I began to tug faster, and harder. I thought of the condition I was in, in nothing but a body suit and a wet nappy, absolutely surrendered to the pleasure of my fantasy. I thought of Poppy and the way she had creamed my bottom so lovingly and masturbated me so well. Suddenly I was there, coming in a long, dizzying orgasm that left me limp on the bed, purring to myself, with my sodden nappy still clutched tight up between the cheeks of my bottom.
It was nearly dark before Poppy came up to find me still in my wet nappy. She tutted a little but set to work. She stripped both me and the bed, and I was sent to stand naked in the corner while she produced fresh sheets and blankets. With the bed done, she changed me, bustling around the room to fetch water and flannels, washing me, powdering my bottom and sex, and applying a touch of cream. I was spanked but ever so gently, just a half dozen pats delivered with my bottom stuck out, before being put in a new nappy.
‘Better?’ she asked as she fixed the pin into place.
I nodded, sticking my thumb into my mouth as I sat down on the bed.
‘Anna’s had to go out,’ she went on, ‘so I’m going to have a little fun with you, Gabby. Now remember what you promised – no sulking, and no sneaking.’
I nodded once more. She smiled.
‘Does your bottom still ache?’
‘Yes, Nurse,’ I answered, as it was obviously expected of me. It was also true.
‘Oh, dear,’ she si
ghed, ‘well, I don’t suppose it’s anything that a spoonful of cod liver oil won’t cure.’
‘Cod liver oil?’
‘Now, now, Gabby, what did we just say about sulking?’
I nodded weakly, thinking of all the jokes about cod liver oil and wondering what it actually tasted like. One or two of my clients took it. I’d never tried it. Now I was going to.
Poppy had gone to a cupboard, the only thing in the room painted white. It was set high on the wall and marked with a large red cross, evidently a medicine cupboard. It wasn’t just for show either. She opened it to display a range of old-fashioned bottles and tins, along with several carefully folded paper packages and one or two worrying-looking devices.
The largest bottle of all was the cod liver oil, and if the contents couldn’t have dated from the fifties, the label certainly did, or earlier. She had also taken out a spoon, a full-sized tablespoon, into which she poured a full dose of the oil.
‘Open wide,’ she said happily.
I obeyed, and in went the spoon. As I closed my mouth it filled with the most revolting taste. I screwed my face up in response and swallowed, forcing it down and struggling to stop myself from gagging. Poppy watched, trying to hide the amusement in her face and not really succeeding.
‘All gone?’ she asked. ‘Good. Now, you do look a little flushed, so I think I’d better take your temperature. Roll over on the bed, bottom up.’
I obeyed, watching as she returned to the cupboard, replacing the cod liver oil bottle and taking out a mercury thermometer, which she shook before holding it carefully up to the light. I knew exactly where the thermometer was going, up my bottom.
Sure enough, she came over and sat down beside me to tug the back of my nappy down. She spread my cheeks between finger and thumb and applied the thermometer to my anus. I was already creamy and it went in easily, to leave me lying flat with it sticking up from between my bottom-cheeks as she carefully timed five minutes, all the while holding my nappy down. Finally the thermometer was pulled out, and again she held it up to the light.
‘A little high,’ she stated. ‘Not much, but I think we had better keep you in bed. I think an enema would do you good as well.’
‘Yes, Nurse.’
She got up, trying to keep a serious expression on her face as she crossed to the medical cupboard, but not entirely succeeding. There was a large bulb among the various bits of apparatus, and as she took it I was already imagining it being pushed up my bottom-hole, only for a door to thump shut below us in the house.
‘Shit!’ Poppy swore. ‘She was quick.’
‘Does it matter?’
‘Not for the enema. I want sex with you, Gabby, rude sex.’
‘Can we?’
‘Not unless you want another beating.’
‘Oh.’
‘It’s complicated. If I want sex it comes at a cost. The same applies to you.’
‘I see. What were you going to do?’
‘Give you your enema, maybe play with your bottom a bit. Something nice and dirty. I love your bottom.’
‘Thank you. I might be able to say the same if you showed me.’
‘I daren’t, not with Anna…Miss Vale downstairs. Look, I’ll come to you tonight. We should be safe.’
I nodded my agreement, not speaking because I could hear Anna’s footsteps on the stairs. A moment later she called for Poppy, who hurried away. Once more I was left, now wondering where Poppy’s little medical game would have led, and what she meant by ‘nice and dirty’.
About an hour later I masturbated again, thinking of how it would have felt to be given my enema by Poppy. Supper came soon afterwards, a reasonable amount this time, but in the same basic English style; cottage pie with brussels sprouts, followed by more jelly and custard. Poppy read to me afterwards and left with a wink. Within an hour I was asleep.
It was pitch black when I woke up to the feel of a hand on my shoulder. I realised it was Poppy even as I pulled out of sleep, from the sensitivity of her touch and her scent.
‘Shh! Not a sound,’ she whispered. ‘Can I come in?’
I nodded, which she may not have seen, but which she felt and took as an invitation. As she pulled my covers back I moved against the wall, making space for her in my bed. She crawled in, pausing only to tug up her nightie before taking me in her arms. I cuddled into her, kissing at her face as her warm, soft body pressed to mine. Her mouth found mine and we were kissing properly, our tongues moving together eagerly. She was stroking my hair and back one-handed, the other lower around my waist, then lower still to cup my bottom, holding the seat of my nappy.
We stayed like that for a long while, kissing and caressing each other, Poppy with her hand always on my bottom, stroking me through the seat of my nappy. Finally she pulled her mouth from mine to cuddle into my neck, her mouth to my ear.
‘You like to be wet, don’t you?’ she whispered.
‘Yes,’ I answered her.
‘And…and more?’
‘Yes,’ I said, shivering at the implication of what she was saying.
For a long moment she was silent, just stroking my bottom through the nappy and holding me into herself. When she spoke it was quieter still, and there was a catch in her voice.
‘Sometimes,’ she whispered, ‘I’m made to do it, in my nappy, you know, everything, and made to stand in the corner, with it all in the back. I want to feel you, like that, Gabby, please.’
I nodded, my chest flushing hot at the thought of what she wanted me to do.
‘Are you ready?’ she whispered. ‘I bet you are.’
‘Yes.’
‘Then do it. Let me feel it. Don’t say a thing, just do it while I hold you.’
I nodded, cuddling tighter into her. I was shivering, absolutely abandoned, surrendered to her. She was right about me being ready too. I could feel the pressure in my insides, low down, in my rectum. All it took was a little concentration, a little conscious effort to overcome that last vestige of what we are taught to think of as decent behaviour, and my anus was opening to let out what was inside. I sighed as it began to happen, my bottom-hole pouting and spreading to the pressure from within to stretch wide. The head was out but I could have stopped, and I did hold, savouring the moment, an exquisite instant of delicious abandonment before I passed the point of no return and let go. Suddenly it was coming out into my nappy, thick and firm, to push out the pouch of towelling beneath my bottom.
‘Oh, you’re doing it,’ Poppy sighed as my growing bulge began to fill the cup of her hand. ‘Oh, you dirty little angel.’
She kissed me and squeezed me tighter still, holding me close as my nappy filled, my mess pushing into a hard lump under my bottom, which grew quickly as I let out more and more. All the while she stroked my bulge, shivering against me and kissing with ever greater passion. I began to pee too, just a little, wetting the front of my nappy and Poppy’s skin where she was against me.
‘You’ve wet, lovely,’ she sighed. ‘Now more at the back, really push. I want to feel it swell.’
My mouth came open under hers as she began to kiss me again. My nappy felt heavy, dangerously full, but I knew there was more, and pushed, my bottom-hole opening again. Out it came, my bulge growing fatter still in Poppy’s hand. She squeezed it gently, pushing it against my bottom, making me aware of just how much I had done. There was still more though, and I kept pushing, my sense of utter abandonment growing as I soiled myself, my arousal too, until at last it was all out, the full, fat load of dirt which came of being forced to eat so much lunch hanging heavy in my nappy.
‘Have you done it, everything?’ Poppy asked as she finally broke away from my mouth.
‘Yes,’ I breathed.
She moaned, squeezing my bulge again more firmly and wobbled it against my bottom.
‘Dirty girl!’ She giggled. ‘Now you can rub me while I hold it.’
I moved a hand down over the swell of her little tummy and lower. She held on tight, shivering in my
arms, her face pressed against my neck. Her sex was plump and very wet, my fingers slipping deep into the groove between her lips. She moaned as I started to rub and cuddled tighter to me, squashing my load yet more firmly against my bottom.
‘That’s right,’ she sighed, ‘just like that. Make me come, Gabby, make me come while I feel what you’ve done in your nappy. Oh, that feels awful. There’s so much. It’s so heavy. Dirty slut.’
She finished with a little choking noise and I felt her hand squeeze hard on the mess in my nappy. I began to rub harder, full on her clitoris, drawing more excited sounds from her as her breathing began to speed up. I was scared she would make a mess but didn’t have the heart to stop her, letting her knead the filth in my nappy as I masturbated her until at last she came, with a little pained cried as her thighs squeezed on to my hand. With her orgasm spent, she began to babble.
‘Thank you, Gabby. Thank you. Oh, God…you didn’t mind, did you? Tell me you didn’t?’
‘No,’ I answered, moving my hand up to stroke her hair. ‘Whatever you need, Poppy. Don’t be ashamed.’
Her answer was a little snivelling sound and I realised she was crying. I held on to her, letting her spill out her emotions in her own time and all the while stroking her hair to soothe her and telling her that what she’d done was all right. We needed to clean up, but I waited until her snuffles had subsided before kicking the bedclothes off and propping myself up on one elbow. Immediately I noticed that a light had come on, visible as a line of brilliant yellow beneath the door.
‘Poppy?’ I whispered. ‘I think Anna’s awake.’
‘Shit!’ she swore. ‘Oh, God! We’re done for! Quick, pretend I’d come up to change you, pretend…’
‘Pretend what?’ Anna Vale’s voice sounded from the door as she pushed it open.
The room brightened, then flooded with light as Anna turned on the switch, leaving me momentarily blinded. I shaded my eyes as Poppy moved beside me.