Single Mom Paradise
By Kitty
(The author's email seems not to be working any more)
Copyright 2017 by Kitty all rights reserved
*
* * * *
This
story is intended for adults only. It contains depictions of forced
nudity,
spanking, and sexual activity of preteen and young teen children for
the
purpose of punishment. None of the behaviors in this story should be
attempted
in real life, as that would be harmful and/or illegal. If you are not
of legal age in your community to read or
view
such material, please leave now.
*
* * * *
Single Mom Paradise
by Kitty
Summary: A struggling 29 year old single mom
finally gets her big break after enrolling in a special program to raise boys.
An offer beyond her wildest imagination: a dream job located in a tropical
paradise - an exclusive island resort that caters to women desires. Not so much
to their sons'. An eight year old Jimmy is about to find out he was brought to
the exotic island for his mom's, her friends', and complete strangers'
amusement: to satisfy their unconventional motherly and sisterly love.
Disclaimer: It feels silly writing
it. All characters are fictional, names coincidental, no real children were
hurt, the author does not condone, blah, blah, blah. It cannot physically
happen in real life, can it? It's a fantasy, inspired by a rather novel (for
the Western world) practice of "elimination communication" (EC).
Google it. See the potential?
Sorry, (American)
English is not the author's native language. Grammar corrections are welcome.
However...
respect the author's world. Be honest in your feedback, but don't ask for
specific "improvements" or adherence to your subjective
"guidelines": making the characters older or younger, introducing
specific kinks, etc. Try to see the author's world with the frightened and
embarrassed eight year old boy's eyes. Or his delighted mom's. Maybe both. And
use it as an inspiration to create your own kinky world.
* * *
1. The Arrival
"Jimmy!"
Laura turned to her eight year old son, unable to contain her excitement.
"Look! Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?"
"I dunno,
mom," Jimmy looked out of the plane's window. The airport scenery was very
cool with big planes and sophisticated trucks, but his mom could not possibly
appreciate the trick machinery.
"You've
never seen the ocean, have you?"
Jimmy didn't
understand her excitement. It was just a big lake. His mind wandered somewhere
else. He wasn't sure the island they just landed on would ever grow on him. He
couldn't explain what was bothering him, but he knew - the moment they boarded
the flight, that the things took a turn for the worse. He kept gazing out of
the taxying plane window, trying to think what exactly he didn't like about the
tropical scenery.
Why his mom
decided to move here? They were perfectly fine in their town. Who needed the
ocean? Jimmy was quite happy in their old neighborhood. He realized that he
even loved going to school, most of his friends couldn't stand. What kind of
schools they had here? Was he going to make new friends? Was everything going
to be... normal? There was something sinister about this place.
The plane finally
arrived at the gate. Everyone stood up crowding the isle, anxious to get off.
Jimmy looked around. It was a weird flight: full of moms, like his. Not a
single dad. Or any men. Just young women, teenage girls, and little kids:
mostly babies and toddlers. All boys, from what he could tell.
The airport
seemed even weirder, being unusually "kid-friendly": with countless
baby stores and play areas for toddlers. The art on the walls followed the same
motherhood theme: paintings and photographs of young mothers with sons. How did
he know all of them were boys? Pretty obvious since every kid was either
butt-naked or completely nude. Jimmy has never seen such an explicit display of
nudity, which strangely focused only on boys. From newborns to fourth-graders.
Little wieners entertained him at first, but seeing a dozen of those photos got
him worried. Sure, moms love paying professional photographers for cute
portraits, but typically even little babies wear something over their diapers
photographed for the family album. And hanging those very private pictures at
an airpot? Not that he'd ever let anyone photograph him like that anyway - even
for his mom's eyes only.
Jimmy kept
wondering where those pictures were taken. The beach ones seemed to be shot on
this island. It couldn't be true. Even little babies don't roam the beach
naked. They wear special "swimming diapers". He knew at least that
much from TV commercials. Sure, a two-three year old wouldn't mind being naked
on the beach, unaware of modesty. Toddlers enjoy running around without
diapers. But a boy his age? Jimmy didn't allow even his mom to see him naked
anymore. Been showering all by himself for over a year now.
A different kind
of art displayed throughout the airport: marble and bronze sculptures portrayed
the same attractive young moms with naked sons. Typical mother's joy: holding
the kid in her arms, playing with him at the beach, bathing... Except for a
very detailed depiction of the boy parts. One sculpture, or better said a
fountain stood out: a boy in front of the potty peeing in it. Jimmy heard of
peeing boy statues, though never seen one close. It would have been funny, but
with what looked like a very young mother or a teenage sister kneeling next to
the boy to hold his willy, the sculpture was rather disturbing: blatantly
showing one of the most private acts supposed to be performed behind the closed
bathroom door.
"How
cute!" one of the teenage girls walking in front of Jimmy laughed.
There was a bunch
of them: 13-14 year old girls from the same flight. Jimmy's mom made him stop
and wait until all of the giggling girls took pictures of the peeing statue
with their phones. A couple gave Jimmy quick measuring glances like they were
comparing him to the boy in the sculpture. Even his mom took notice.
"Looks about
your age" she smiled, making Jimmy blush.
"Save your
phone storage," a pretty flight attendant told the girls, passing them by.
"You'll be seeing plenty of that live."
Jimmy wondered
what she meant. The bronze figures were life-size, and the boy indeed seemed to
be his age, but any eight year old would have died rather than pee in a plastic
potty, let alone having someone aim his willy.
An even bigger
shock waited for Jimmy around the corner: a young woman changing her son's
diaper. Not only the boy was almost Jimmy's age, which he could somewhat
accept, having heard of older children in diapers. But that woman, who looked a
lot like his mom, didn't seem to care a single bit about her son's privacy. The
thing that surprised Jimmy the most was the "official" sign above the
changing table - a picture of a parent bent over a diapered baby. Not that
being changed in the ladies room was any better at that age - with everyone
staring at your bare bottom, but come on... A diaper changing station in the
middle of a busy terminal? No wonder the boy looked so embarrassed. Perhaps
that woman wanted to teach her son a lesson. Who knows. Jimmy definitely
wouldn't want his mom to ever do it to him.
Pulled by her
hand, Jimmy left the airport and boarded a futuristic driverless bus. The
airline offered free baggage delivery to passenger homes, so no one had to wait
by the baggage carousel.
The silent
electric bus drove through a couple of tunnels and entered the city. Jimmy was
glued to the bus window. The gender and age mix of the people walking the
streets seemed identical to his flight's. No boys older than 10 and no girls
younger than 12. Also no women over 40. It didn't seem right. An entire city,
or maybe even the whole island populated by single moms? Of little sons and
teenage daughters?
It felt like
being in his mom's dream. Everything, while not explicitly feminine, looked
pretty close to the Barbie's world: trees, buildings, stores, and restaurants.
Even cars: cute hatchbacks, wagons, and minivans. Something his mom would
drive. No pickup trucks or fast sports cars. It was undeniably a girly world.
Why his mom brought him here? How he was going to fit in?
The boys he saw
on the streets of the "Barbie City" didn't fit in at all. They didn't
look normal in their silly clothes: some kind of footed yoga pants worn...
Jimmy looked closely at one of the boys seemingly his age... yep, without
underwear. Why would anyone put on something embarrassing like that? Was that
boy in some kind of ballet class? He saw a ballet once on TV. A very strange
dance to say the least. But all men ballet "tights" were black. The
ones he saw on local boys were of a different, thicker kind. And they came in
many colors. Thankfully not girly: pink or purple. Being tight made them
somewhat feminine: showing the boy's butt, and what looked especially funny,
his package due to no underwear. It was like wearing no pants at all. Everyone
could see your willy and balls.
At least the
t-shirts could have been a little longer. Half of the boys had their t-shirts
tucked into the strange pants: pulled up to the chest. Those who didn't, looked
equally ridiculous: with the t-shirt ending somewhere around the belly button.
Who invented such strange fashion? All girls and women had normal clothing.
They do wear tights - of a different, thin type, but they have skirts and
dresses to cover their butts.
Jimmy couldn't
wrap his head around the strange clothing. It was completely the opposite of
what a boy older than two should wear in the tropical climate: baggy shorts...
with underwear, duh? And a moderately long t-shirt with some cool brand logo.
Where they got those t-shirts? At some baby store? Cartoon animals? Soft pastel
colors? Typically of the light green, yellow, or baby blue variety.
He'd have died of
embarrassment wearing something as babyish. What's next? Diapers? He started to
notice them too. On boys his age and even older. Not many, but still. Either
under the tight pants - did the boy's mom wanted the whole world to see her
son's diaper? Or... he gasped... without any pants. A diaper and the same short
t-shirt. On an eight-nine year old! How could those boys allow to be seen like
that?
Most boys Jimmy
saw on the street, were indeed noticeably embarrassed. What was going on here?
The kids definitely didn't choose their clothing. Their moms did. How could
they? He'd never allow his mom to dress him like that. But... he made a
terrifying discovery... she didn't pack any of his clothes. None! While
bringing two big suitcases of hers. She told him they'd buy everything on the
island, since he didn't need much of his old clothes, suitable for the cold
North-East rather than the tropical climate.
It suddenly
started to make sense. Diapering in the middle of a busy terminal. The flight
attendant'd remark about the peeing boy sculpture. The babyish attire. Being
naked at the beach. He recalled the city skyline in the picture of a naked nine
year old building a sand castle. Their bus just passed that very distinctive
building. Meaning the picture was indeed taken at one of the island beaches.
What kind of mom would make her kid endure something so embarrassing?
Jimmy's would
never do it to him. Even if the entire island's population dressed kids in the
ridiculous pants and paraded them around the beach naked. He's not going to be
subjected to that madness. Though he would have surely appreciated if his mom
warned him about a few strange things here.
She didn't tell
him anything. Maybe she didn't know? Nah, she knew. Otherwise she would have
made a comment about the absolutely ridiculous attire. Strangely none of the
women on the bus did. Like they knew too. Only a couple of teenage girls
sitting in the front row kept giggling, poking the bus window with their
fingers. Both were unbelievably pretty - another thing that seemed rather
unusual. All girls and women he's seen since they boarded the plane were
attractive. Some blindingly beautiful, some just cute. But every single one was
young, happy, good-looking, and... superior.
The two twelve
year old girls sitting in the front row had a bit too much of that superiority
in their tone. Jimmy couldn't stand their arrogant chatter.
"That one
has a cute round butt too."
"Not to
mention his package." Both girls laughed.
"Best
clothes for little boys, don't you think?"
"Absolutely
agree. I can't stand two year olds in baggy adult pants. Come on! Why to hide a
diaper, if everyone knows he's wearing it."
"So who do
you like more? The ones in tights or the diapered ones?"
"Can't
decide. Diapers sure look funny - especially on a nine-ten year old. But those
tight pants are something. It's like seeing the little guy butt-naked."
"My thought
exactly. They don't hide much. Pulled over the round butt and little
willy."
"Imagine if
he pees pants like that. The huge wet spot."
"Look! One
already did."
"Are you
serious? Where? Oh my gosh! Looks like he messed himself too. See the load
under his butt? Should have worn a diaper."
"Eeew! But
so funny. I mean soaked diapers are funny as hell too - especially on an older
boy. But they are not so obvious."
"Is his mom
making him walk in those wet and messy pants on purpose?"
"If my
little brother did that, I'd have definitely done that: marched him a couple of
blocks to teach him a lesson."
"With
everyone staring at him," the other girl giggled.
"Staring,
making comments, shaming. I'd have changed him in public too. On the nearest
bench."
"Would have
been so funny. Maybe you'll get your chance. Does he still wet the bed?"
"Once in a
while. Mom and I got it under control."
"Hey!"
the "little brother" sitting behind the girls tried to protest.
"Like no one
knows about your accidents, Matty," his sister said with a grin. "A
seven year old boy should know better. Oh, and if you haven't noticed what boys
wear here, I can't wait to see you in those tights."
"Or
diaper!" added her friend and both giggled, making the boy's face red.
"Does your mom diaper him for the night?"
"She used
to. I mean I typically did. Made sure he went potty, then wiped, oiled, and
diapered him."
"And he let
you?"
"Duh? I'm
his big sister. I still bath him. Doubt he likes it either. Boys start getting
shy around the age of five. Well, nothing he can do about his baths. Too little
to shower on his own. It's so much fun bathing and diapering him. Though the
nighttime diapers are kind of expensive. So we decided to do something
different. Now he sleeps completely naked."
"But he'd
pee all over the bed."
"So what?
First, he still sleeps on a waterproof toddler mattress. Second, we put diaper
cloth under his butt to absorb all his pee."
"What about
the blanket?"
"No
blankets. We set the thermostat a couple degrees higher to keep him warm."
"Oh my gosh!
You make a seven year old boy sleep naked without a blanket?"
"Yep. He
also needs to stay on his back and keep his legs spread, so if he springs a
fountain, it lands right on the pad between them.. Arms above his head, so he
won't, you know, touch himself."
The other girl
giggled. "And he stays like that the entire night?"
"We make
sure of that. By tying his arms and legs to the bed posts."
"What if he
needs to go to the toilet?"
"You wish.
Actually, since my room is next to Matty's, I have an alarm set for 1a.m. So I
wake up, go to his room, where he happily sleeps in his naked glory, wake him
up and stand him in front of his potty. We keep his old plastic potty under his
bed."
"Do you hold
his pee-pee too?" another girl asked with a giggle.
"Of course I
do. Most of his pee would have landed on the floor if I let him aim. It wasn't
easy to make a seven year old pee like that. He was shy at first and needed a
little persuasion. It took me a month to get him to pee in the potty right in
front of me. While holding his willy. So funny watching boys go."
"What kind
of persuasion?"
"The red
bottom kind!"
They laughed
again.
"Can I come
for a sleepover? I wanna do it too. Don't you wish they still used the potty
chair at that age? Like throughout the day - instead of an adult toilet. For
both number one and two. Right in the living room with you supervising."
"Don't all
boys here? Regardless of age. I've heard even kids older than Matty still use
plastic potties."
"Under adult
supervision?"
"Duh? How
else? Someone needs to hold their little worms if it's just number one and wipe
their dirty bums after the number two."
"Can you
imagine that? A nine-year old having his bottom wiped?"
"Standing up
or in the diapering position?"
"You mean
like on his back with the legs up in the air? Oh my gosh. A nine year old? Too
funny."
"The
funniest thing I've heard so far... Get this... If one refuses to use the
potty. Or for whatever other reason... The kid is made to do his business lying
naked in that position."
"Older boys
too? They like... lie naked on the back and spring a fountain? Like a baby
during his diaper change? So cute when little boys do it. Though I'm curious
how to make an older one tinkle."
"You can
tickle a boy to pee. You have no idea how ticklish they are."
"Like
everywhere? Or there are some special spots?"
"Boys can't
stand their balls tickled."
"How do you
know? Did you tickle Matty's?"
"You mean to
make him pee? No. But he always peed during diaper changes, when he was little.
Especially when mom put baby oil or the diaper rash cream on his little
package. Have you ever seen a boy's diaper change?"
"A couple of
times."
"Wondered
why they squirm and kick when someone touches their pee-pee and balls? The same
thing during the bath. Impossible to wash the boy's little package without a
tickle dance. Which always ends with a pee fountain."
"Even seven
year olds do that?"
"They do.
Right, Matty? Tell Cassie what happened when I bathed you yesterday."
Jimmy thought how
lucky he was without big sisters or cousins. Especially mean ones like that
girl.
"He peed in
the tab?"
"Right when
I was washing his precious marbles," the girl giggled.
"You do it
with your bare hands?"
"Of course.
The only way to wash a little boy down there."
"So how do
you hold him still, if he cannot stand the tickle?"
"There is a
trick," the girl lowered her voice to a whisper, but Jimmy could still
hear her. "If he's dancing and prancing too much, I put a soapy finger in
his bum."
"Seriously?"
"Yep. Push
my index finger right in there and wiggle it a little. Instantly makes him
behave."
"So funny.
Can I come over and bath your little brother?"
"Wanna do it
tonight? I'll teach you. Mom! Can Cassie help me bath Matty?"
"Better
tomorrow," Matty's mom replied with a smile.
"Mom!"
Matty looked at his mom with tears in his eyes.
"What? Any
of your sister's friends can help her bath you. One day Cassie is going to have
a little boy of her own. She need to learn how to properly bath one."
"I am not
little."
"Anyone who
wets his bed is."
Matty' sister
looked at him with a grin of superiority.
"By the way,
all moms wash little kids bottoms like that," she continued. "It
helps with constipation, if you know what I mean."
"I thought
moms typically use a thermometer for that."
"That too.
We have a special one for Matty."
"Get out!
Your mom still takes his temperature rectally?"
"How else?
Does wonders for little boys who have difficulty going potty. Especially if you
lubricate the tip with liquid soap instead of vaseline."
"Does she
lay him on her lap with his butt up? Like... for spanking?"
"Yeah, like
that. Though I prefer the diapering position: on the back with the legs up in
the air."
"Quite a
view, huh?"
"Especially
watching him poop after the thermometer leaves his little hole."
"You gotta
be kidding me. Only babies do that. A seven year old can make it to the
toilet."
"How much
you know about seven year old boys? Hold the soapy thermometer in his bum long
enough... twisting, wiggling... Five minutes like that and you'll be rewarded
by the results. Makes him completely lose control of his little hole."
"Aren't
you... like... disgusted?"
"He's my
little brother. I've watched him pee and poop since he was a baby. You get used
to it. Not disgusting at all. Just funny."
"Does he pee
as well?"
"While I am
holding him on his back? Yeah, you always need to wait until the baby peed.
Means he pooped everything out."
"I'm not a
baby!"
"Hush!
Adults are talking." Matty's sister giggled.
"When making
a baby boy poop like that," she intentionally referred to Matty as a
"baby" again. "You always need to wait until he's done. But...
It doesn't hurt to speed things up. By poking his puckered hole with the tip of
the thermometer."
"Doesn't
hurt who?" Cassie giggled. "By the way, do you remember when was the
last time he went potty?"
"You mean
number two? I like the way you think. He did it in the morning. Right
mom?"
"I am not
sure. Matty, when did you go poo-poos?"
"What?"
the boy's face turned crimson.
"When was
the last time little Matty made poopies in his potty?" his sister teased
the boy.
"Look at him
blush." Cassie smirked.
"Since
wittle Matty doesn't seem to remember," the girl continued in the same
cooing tone. "I am going to start a potty chart. To record when he makes
pee-pees and poo-poos. And how: in the potty like a big boy or in his
pants."
She turned to her
friend.
"I tell you
what, Cassie. He seems awfully constipated to me. Maybe that's why he's so
fussy. So when you come tomorrow, I'll teach you how to take care of that
problem as well."
"Can't
wait."
"You really
wanna learn that?" Matty's mom asked Cassie with a sigh. "It can get
quite messy."
"I'm not
afraid of dirty little bottoms."
2. The Snow Queen in a Medical Lab Coat
The bus made a
turn and stopped.
"Pediatric
Clinic," the computer voice announced.
"Bye,
Cassie. I'll call you later. We need to take Matty to the pediatrician."
"Because of
his constipation?" Cassie asked with a smirk.
"No. Because
little baby boys need to be examined by pediatricians often. To check for
diaper rash, how their baby pee-pees develop, and other things."
Enraged Matty
jumped towards his sister, but his mom caught him and administered a loud smack
on the boy's behind. "Behave, young man!"
Cassie choked
trying to stifle laughter.
Jimmy was
definitely lucky, that he didn't have such a mean sister. He watched half of
the bus getting off. Matty with his mom and sister left first. Then other moms
with boys. The ones with teenage girls stayed seated. What was going on?
"Let's go,
Jimmy," his mom urged him to stand up by pulling his arm.
"But it's
not our stop."
"It is.
Would you kindly stand up and get off the bus? We are the last ones. Don't hold
other people."
"OK."
Jimmy was completely confused. There weren't any houses or apartment building
in sight. Just a big hospital plaza. "Central Children's Hospital"
the sign read.
"Come
on!" Jimmy's mom took his arm and started walking towards a one-story
building, following other moms with boys.
"Where are
we going, mom?" Jimmy asked cautiously.
"To the
pediatrician's office. For your check up."
"What?
Why?"
"Don't argue
with me, honey. I don't make the rules here. All children need to see a
pediatrician upon the arrival."
"But I feel
fine."
"I know,
sweetie. It's just a routine check-up. The doctor will ask a few questions and
we'll be on our way."
Jimmy nodded in
agreement. It was getting stranger and stranger, but whatever. They walked in
and got in line. Matty was first. His mom was already talking to the smiling
girl behind the counter. "Why every woman on this island was so
pretty" Jimmy thought.
"She'll see
him in no time" the admin girl said to Matty's mom.
"Is she
going to inspect him for diaper rash?" his sister inquired with a sly
smile.
"Lucy,
please!" Matty's mom gave the girl a stern look.
"She'll
check everything," the admin girl assured Matty's mom. "Does your son
needs his diaper changed? Don't worry about it. The nurse will thoroughly clean
him for the doctor. But if you still want to change him, you can do it over
there."
She pointed at
the big changing table. Jimmy wondered what it was: a high padded changing
table, which could easily accommodate a kid his age. And that admin girl. She
clearly saw, that Matty was too old for diapers. Yet talked about him, like a
two-year old.
"Mom, I
don't wanna!" Matty protested loudly.
"What again,
Matty?"
"I don't
want that doctor!"
"We can't
pick doctors, honey. Not right now," Matty's mom was starting to lose her
patience.
"I can get
you another one," the young admin offered. "How about Dr.Shaw?"
"It's a
woman too?"
"Yes. Why?
We have an all-female staff. Both nurses and doctors."
"I am so
sorry. Never mind." Matty's mom turned to him. "Did you hear
that?"
"But she's
gonna see me nekkid!" Matty finally lost it and started crying.
"Please go
ahead," his mom told the next one in line, yanking Mattie to the side to
have a talk with him. "I don't care how old you are! I don't want to hear
a peep if the doctor wants to examine you naked. She sees tens of naked little
boys daily. We are going to the back of the line because of you. And if you
don't quiet down right this minute, I'll take your pants off right here. So
everyone will see you naked. And thoroughly spanked. Is that what you
want?"
"I can spank
him for you," Matty's sister offered with a grin.
"Geez, Lucy!
Will you ever stop teasing him today? I've had enough of you too! Can you leave
Matty alone?"
"Sorry."
"Take him
and seat over there," she motioned towards a row of chairs. "Show him
some game on your phone. Or distract him with something else. He's your brother
for crissakes. You know why we brought him here."
"But I was
preparing him for..."
"Shh! Are
you out of your mind? Look around. Those moms would kill me."
"Don't they
like... know?" Lucy whispered to her mom.
"Of course
they do. But their... " Lucy's mom shook her head in disbelief. "Can
you keep your mouth shut till tomorrow? I already regret I told you. Now sit
with your brother over there and keep him occupied."
The conversation
didn't go unnoticed by Jimmy. If it wasn't going to be a routine checkup for a
seven year old Matty, it surely didn't look like one for Jimmy. Lucy and her
mom knew something he didn't.
"Mom, what
they were talking about?"
"Who?"
"That
girl," Jimmy pointed at Lucy. "She was about to say something and her
mom stopped her... "
"Sorry,
honey. I didn't hear anything."
Jimmy looked his
mom in the eyes. He knew she was lying.
"And all
doctors here are women!" Jimmy tried to complain.
"Looks like
it. Why? Would you stop worrying, sweetie?" Laura hugged her son. "I
didn't know doctors scared you so much. I thought you were a big boy. There's
nothing to worry about, sweetheart. The doctor is just going to ask a few
questions."
It sure didn't
look like "a few questions" after they checked in and went to another
room. Jimmy has never seen a medical office like that before. The one he went
to, had private exam rooms. None here. Just a large hall with a row of
oversized changing tables - the same kind he saw in the previous room.
Jimmy counted six
tables - occupied by naked toddlers. All boys. Seemed like that age group was
the office specialty. The only other big boy in the room was seven year old
Matty. It was quite embarrassing to sit and wait your turn among diapered two
and three year olds. Even knowing that you were going to be examined
differently.
Was he really?
The admin girl told Matty's sister that the doctor would check
"everything". Meaning his boy parts. Jimmy shook off his fears. No
one would ask a big boy like him to remove all of his clothes. He was not going
to undress at all. For a "few questions"?
Only babies
needed a full exam. Jimmy wasn't one of them: peeing when the diaper comes off
and pooping after their temperature taken. Not to mention only little babies
had their temperature taken that way. But the question remained: why his mom
brought him to this "baby clinic"? Jimmy couldn't help asking
"what ifs", picturing himself on one of those changing tables naked,
expertly handled by a pretty nurse.
It'd be so
embarrassing. Those tables belonged to a daycare, not medical office. Why
didn't they have fancy leather-covered folding benches that looked like beds
with drawers? Or whatever those things were - at normal exam rooms of normal
medical offices. Nothing seemed normal here. No blinds or curtains on the large
windows, arranged into one huge glass wall.
To Jimmy's
dismay, the exam tables were set right by that glass wall - for everyone
outside to see how the doctors examined their little patients. The "what
if" didn't look good at all. The sidewalk behind the glass was quite busy:
young moms pushing strollers, tourists in expensive beach clothes, carrying
shopping bags from the nearby mall, countless bystanders... All women, as the
entire population of this strange island didn't seem to have a male over 10
years old.
Worst of all, a
group of teenage girls stopped outside, giggling and pointing fingers at the
kids on the changing tables. No doubt enjoying the view. Jimmy hoped they'd
leave by the time his turn comes. As if Lucy who came here with her mom and
brother, wasn't enough. Matty's turn was right after Jimmy's now, since he went
to the back of the line. It meant, that Lucy would see everyone's checkup,
including Jimmy's. Thankfully he wasn't going to take off any of his clothes
with her watching. Nor the seven year old Lucy's brother, no matter how much
she wanted the doctor to examine Matty naked like a toddler.
No doubt she'd
enjoy seeing Jimmy like that too. The thermometer sticking out of his butt...
he quivered at the thought of that thing invading his body. Especially lying on
the back in the humiliating "diapering position", the nurses favored
for taking little kids temperature. Jimmy would die if they do it to him...
with Lucy watching. Not to mention the giggling teenage girls outside. Other
kids' moms. The doctors and nurses - all attractive young women.
Eight years of
age, Jimmy wasn't ready for such concentration of female beauty. It confused
and frightened him: being surrounded by women, he couldn't takes his eyes off.
The "baby clinic" with its lack of privacy was the worst place to be
exposed to attractive girls and women. Why it didn't have private exam rooms?
And whose idea was to put the changing tables right by the windows? To
entertain complete strangers outside? Seemed like privacy didn't apply to kids
his age on this island.
Whatever... it
just didn't look like a medical office. More like some kind of daycare. But...
the sudden realization made him shiver... why would anyone need such large
changing tables there? For children his age?
Jimmy gasped,
terrified by his discovery. Such daycares did exist on this island. All of the
puzzle pieces: scenes he absorbed during the 20-minute bus ride, finally
started to click together: boys his age in strange infantile pants and diapers,
Lucy's fixation on the potty training. She was very certain her seven year old
brother would be using a plastic potty instead of an adult toilet. What about
eight year olds? Would Jimmy be subjected to the same humiliation? Why boys his
age were treated here like toddlers?
It wasn't just
Lucy, who didn't bother to differentiate seven year old boys from
diaper-wearing toddlers. Matty's mom treated him like a toddler as well.
Together with the rest of the moms, living on the island - if they made their
sons wear diapers and toddler clothes.
Jimmy was also
certain, that the curt pediatric nurses in their early 20s would most certainly
view him as a toddler - judging by their condescending smiles holding kicking
and screaming toddlers with thermometers in their butts. And the demeaning
comments after the thermometer was withdrawn, resulting in convulsive pooping.
Slightly older doctors acted a bit more professional, but couldn't completely
hide their condescending tone.
And wasn't it
strange, how absolutely every kid pooped after his temperature taken? Were the
nurses making them to? Like Lucy, who bragged to her friend about wiggling a
soapy thermometer in her brother's butt. The nurses seemed to do exactly the
same, causing their little patients noticeable discomfort. Duh? Was that thing
really a thermometer? Jimmy's never seen that kind before: a thin stick with a
large ball, that looked more like a lollipop, than any thermometer known to
him. At least no one was going to stick that cruel device in his butt. He was
too old for rectal thermometers.
Jimmy wasn't so
sure now amid the ominous surroundings of this strange island. If everyone was
a toddler to the pediatricians and their nurses, he was going to be subjected
to the same humiliation. He blushed, imagining one of the young doctors
touching his boy parts with a cute smile: examining him for diaper rash. Not
gonna happen! He didn't wear a diaper, period! Nothing to see down there. He
was too big to be examined naked like a baby. He couldn't recall ever being
made to remove his underwear in the doctor's office. Let alone the dreaded
rectal thermometer.
Besides, he was
100% healthy. Hoping to get through the checkup ordeal quickly: ideally w/o
removing any clothes. What for? His mom told him the doctor was just going to
ask her a few questions. If it was anything more, than that, his mom wouldn't
let the pediatrician treat him like a baby. She'd protect him from those mean
doctors and nurses.
Little did he
know, his mom was already wet from watching the ministrations the nurses
subjected their naked patients to - anxiously awaiting her son's turn to lie on
the changing table. It had been more than a year since she saw Jimmy naked, as
he started showering all by himself, locking the bathroom door. Laura had
numerous talks with Jimmy, asking him to at least leave the door unlocked, so
she could help him if he slips and falls. But Jimmy refused to let her in.
Everything was
about to change. Not only she'd admire her son naked again. She couldn't wait
to see Jimmy's reaction to the rectal thermometer invading his bottom. And that
cute freckled girl... Lucy would surely make a few comments about it. Enough to
make him blush. "Oh my," she thought, feeling sorry for Jimmy. But
what an entertainment he was going to provide for her.
It seemed like a
dream. The wet kind. The island was just... perfect. No privacy for cute little
boys - treated the same regardless of age. Every girl and woman could admire
boys naked: at the beach, during public diaper changes, in a bathtub, on the
potty chair... And especially at pediatrician offices, that lacked private exam
rooms.
The glass wall...
What a wonderful idea to offer a breathtaking ocean view for the moms inside,
while letting anyone walking by enjoy the beauty of naked little boys,
especially during their cute infantile acts of uncontrollable peeing and
pooping. Nothing's more adorable, than a baby boy's innocent pee fountain.
Laura regained
control and moved her hand away from the crotch. She desperately needed to
relieve the sweet tingling between her tightly pressed legs. Hopefully the wet
spot wasn't too noticeable.
She looked
around. Her Jimmy was the oldest boy in the room. Most kids, that came on the
same plane were two and three years old. If only she discovered this program
when Jimmy was that age. She missed six years in paradise. Not to mention the
economic benefits. She hated her old job. It paid close to nothing. She had to
deal with a degrading boss. The traffic was a nightmare.
It seemed like a
distant memory now. She's finally made it. Her dream job waited for her at the
local Orlov Robotics office. Creative marketing. There was no catch. Everything
seemed perfect.
Especially the
complete absence of men. Only little boys like her Jimmy. Laura never liked
men. They confused her at best. It took her some time to find her sexuality.
She tried men and felt nothing at all. Except being used. Sex with girls was
much better - at least they could bring her to orgasm. Which paled in
comparison to her explosive feelings for her son. He was her true love. Though
the girls were still an option. She could only imagine a family with a girl.
Raising Jimmy and maybe another little boy. The conception? A total no-brainer
nowadays. Plenty of sperm donors.
She tried her
best to build a "normal" family. But Jimmy's "father", if
he was ever worthy to be called such, ran away as soon as he heard of her
pregnancy. She insisted on keeping the baby. Not easy when you are halfway
through college. But what a bundle of joy her little Jimmy was. The ideal man -
one that required diapering, bathing, and sitting on the potty. One she could
undress and admire naked any time she wanted. The only male body she loved - of
a little boy. Without disgusting body hair and frightening dick.
Sooner or later
little Jimmy would grow up into such hairy monster. Nothing she could do about
it, other than enjoy his childhood. And dream that perhaps one day the science
would find some drug to stop little boys from growing into disgusting men. If
only Jimmy could stay a toddler forever.
There was no way
to shrink his body to turn him into a two-year old, but the experimental ETB
(Extended Toddlerhood for Boys) program offered Laura a second chance to enjoy
his infancy. An unbelievable opportunity to bond with her son.
Laura recalled
her conversation with the program counselor. ETB was sponsored by the Worldwide
National Feminist Party, the only one left after the world entered the Era of
Global Stability and Prosperity - the result of the historic election night 20
years ago. The program was established by none other than the WNFP Chairman and
the all-female World Parliament leader Arianna Orlov.
Orlov made her
fortune in robotics: particularly the autonomous mining machines deployed to
Mars and Venus. Her generosity knew no bounds. She gave an entire island to
single moms.
Granted Laura
could only stay on the Arianna island for two and a half years - until Jimmy
reached 11, they were set for life. As long, as Laura adhered to the program.
She was guaranteed employment at one of Orlov's companies, enjoying the same
creative work and stratospheric salary. Jimmy was to go to a good college and
also end up at Orlov Robotics or another Arianna's company. He had no chance at
a corporate career. Arianna didn't allow males to grow professionally. In
exchange for never having to worry about the money.
ETB was the most
important, early childhood stage of the life-long OM (Obedient Male) program.
It asserted female superiority at the subconscious level - through powerful
childhood memories. It was the foundation to raise the new generation of men -
groomed to serve female bosses and cater to their desires.
Arianna Orlov has
single-handedly changed the world. Her robots completely replaced men. The
"strong" sex was no longer needed: to pump oil, lay bricks, or fight
in wars. There were no more wars in the world led by Arianna's Worldwide
Parliament. The wise and cautious keepers of the planet - women were finally in
charge. They eradicated poverty and violence, outlawed devastating stock market
gambling, and even banned auto racing. Arianna eliminated anything remotely
risky, a prudent mom would not approve.
She was a very
vocal lesbian, but loved men too. Below the certain age. Arianna called
children the world's cutest puppies and kittens. She unconditionally loved both
girls and boys. And while it seemed to many that she did not care what happens
to the latter after they reach puberty, Ariana really did: in a different way.
Grown men were a "decorative breed" to her, since no one needed their
strong arms anymore. Or their dicks.
Most importantly
the planet didn't need their stupid decisions. A male brain is not wired to
make the world a better place. And so she made it her lifetime mission to
properly wire it. Around just one thing: shame. Young boys were raised to live
in shame and worship female perfection.
Shame saves
lives. By preventing mischievous boys from doing dangerous things. Arianna
wanted grown men to retain the toddler mindset: timid, sorry for their
mischief, and afraid of the ensuing punishment. With only one desire: to be a
good boy and please the mommy. Along with other caregivers who could administer
humiliating punishments. She wanted men to delegate all their decisions to
women and rely on them for the most basic needs - like every little boy depends
on his mommy to change his diapers and sit him on the potty.
That was the shame
she wanted all boys to remember upon growing up: the embarrassing memories of
wetting and messing their pants in front of beautiful teenage girls and young
women. Only a business visionary like Arianna Orlov could come up with such
ingenious way to establish unquestionable female superiority - reminding the
men of their childhood struggle with potty training. Every time they felt the
urge to visit a bathroom.
Cultivating that
behavior required a specific environment. A tropical island was perfect to build
a secluded community with the right lifestyle and demographics.
Prepubescent boys
could not have any male role models like fathers or big brothers. Males over 11
years of age were forbidden within a 100 nautical miles off the island's coast.
In the ideal case a male child born on the island was expected to see a grown
man for the first time at the safe age of 11, having his mind filled with the
proper memories and behavior patterns. The boys brought to the island by their
moms, had the image of male strength and authority gradually erased from their
minds by living among women.
It was just as
important to never let a young boy observe female weakness. For that reason no
girl under 12 was allowed on the island either. Only little boys pee their
pants. The term "little" was not applicable to a girl. Boys were the
only pathetic "littles" on the island. While even 12 year old girls
acted as adults in charge. Simply by being girls.
Any "adult
in charge" needed to be physically stronger then her charges to boss them
around. Two years provided a safe gap. Taught the proper technique, e.g. to
hold down a squirming and kicking child during his diaper change, a 12 year old
girl could easily overpower a 10 year old boy.
The upper age
limit for the island's residents was 45. No grannies. It was important to
surround boys by youth and beauty. Arianna wanted every boy on the island to
constantly experience "cuteness overload". The looks mattered a lot -
to induce a prepubescent boy's crush on teenage girls and young women, ensuring
his maximum humiliation upon wetting his pants, being seen naked during his
bath or diaper change, and other embarrassing situations.
The program
recruiters scouted the world, searching for girls and women with the right
looks, carefully selected to populate the island. It was the innocent childish
standard of beauty, focused entirely on the face. Little boys don't pay
attention to anything else like "ass" or "boobs". Nor
they're scared by BDSM theatrics: leather-clad gothic dominatrixes and
exaggerated latex nurses. Arianna wanted all grown up women on the island, even
the ones pushing 40 to have the "sweet 16" appearance. A petite or
even moderately chubby build with a cute youthful round or slightly triangular
face, big eyes, upturned nose, and full lips. Features like freckles and cheek
dimples were a bonus.
Beauty doesn't
work without a happy smile. Arianna went out of her way to keep the female
population of her island happy. It was a very specific kind of happiness. She
populated the island with girls and women who enjoyed seeing little boys naked
and took an even bigger delight in humiliating them.
Laura glanced at
her watch, impatient to see Jimmy on the changing table. It took doctors about
15 minutes on average to examine a patient from head to toe - half of that time
spent on cleaning the mess every toddler made after his temperature was taken.
Rectally, how else? The thermometers looked a bit unusual. Every mom knows what
a pediatric rectal thermometer is supposed to look like. The ones used by
nurses at this office seemed to be designed for a very specific purpose. She
smirked, secretly hoping the "special thermometer" would make her
eight year old son poop too.
Boy, did she miss
innocent things boys do at the age of two: running around naked, peeing in a
bathtub, pooping after their rectal temperature taken. Those
"accidents" were the extent of trouble Jimmy could cause her as a
toddler, when he fully depended on her. Compared to the eight year old's
mischief she had to deal with lately.
Everything was
perfect when Jimmy was two. Even the diaper changes. Like most moms, Laura
didn't have a tiny bit of repulsion wiping off her baby's pee and poop. Clean
or dirty, who'd be disgusted by a sweet baby boy's bottom? Not to mention, that
every diaper change provided a perfect opportunity to play with the boy's
delicate rosebud: first by thoroughly cleaning it with a wet wipe, and a lot
more when applying baby oil or diaper rash ointment. Right on the puckered
hole, sensitive to the slightest touch. Tickling and poking it with one finger,
probing a little deeper, and finally sliding it all the way in. Instantly
rewarded by a cute baby erection.
She quickly
learned what to expect next: a spurt of pee. Why all her friends complained
about their sons peeing during diaper changes? It is so cute, when toddlers
spring innocent fountains out of their tiny willies. So funny to watch a boy do
it: lying naked on his back in front of you. Makes every mother's panties wet.
Oh, the sweet memories...
Jimmy peed during
every bath too, when he was younger. Laura learned the right tricks to make him
tinkle. Gently lathering up the little sack between his legs: every boy's most
ticklish spot. It was so much fun watching his goose-bump covered naked body
squirm and shudder, until the tickle made him pee. Another sure way to cause
him to lose his bladder control was pulling back his foreskin and rubbing the
exposed pee slit. That stimulation was a lot more intense than tickling his
balls, producing results much quicker. He peed so hard responding to her touch.
Laura has
experimented with all kinds of stimulation during Jimmy's baths and diaper
changes. She thoroughly masturbated him on several occasions. Though his climax
wasn't as intense, as she hoped. Compared to Jimmy's reaction to tickle. If
anything, masturbating a little boy proved to be a useful technique to prepare
him for prolonged scrotal and anal tickling, since the climax made the boy's
skin extremely sensitive. She learned her son's most vulnerable spots, and used
every opportunity to mercilessly tickle his boy bits and the anal passage:
baths, diaper changes, wiping him after the potty...
Was her pleasure
sadistic? Making him shudder and lose control of his bladder and sometimes
bowels? She never caused her sweet little boy any pain. She was fine with
smacking her son's bare butt once in a while, but she never spanked him for
real, like many of her friends, who definitely got off by reddening their sons
bare bottoms. A single slap - all it takes to get a little boy to behave. Why
to make such a ritual out of it?
Laura hated the
spanking drama. She preferred the elaborate subtlety of motherhood. The blurred
line between care and punishment. Whenever she felt like tickling Jimmy's balls
to cause convulsive peeing, she lovingly cooed to her quivering son, that he
needed a thorough application of the moisturizing cream to avoid diaper rash.
When she was lathering up his ultra-sensitive pee slit, it was to properly wash
it. And when she felt compelled to stick something in his bum: a thermometer,
enema, or just her finger, it was always to relieve his constipation. Little
boys get constipated quite often, whether they complain about it to their
mommies or not.
She knew, that
her manipulations weren't pleasant for Jimmy, and it turned her on: his
discomfort and resistance - trying to break free from her firm hold, squirming
to escape her tickling fingers, and ultimately giving in to her expert tickling
skills and rewarding her with convulsive pee spurts. That kind of power over
men: a complete control of their most private body functions... It made her
crotch tingle.
Laura felt sorry
for her son, but couldn't stop. The pity turned her on too: a twisted
combination of compassion and curiosity how much tender torture a toddler can
take. Two conflicting feelings feeding each other - that was her unique brand
of motherly love.
She had no
remorse for doing "inappropriate" things to Jimmy. It was her son,
and she made decisions what's good for him. Any mother has the right to have a
little fun with her son. Just watching him in such helpless state: lying naked
on his back in the diapering position: forced to expose the most private spots
between his legs... fully accessible to her fingers... Gosh, it was such an
incredible turn-on.
Potty training
proved to be an even bigger fun. Following her pediatrician recommendations,
she kept Jimmy butt-naked most of the day - to quickly catch the right moment.
Thankfully boys always show it. They strain their willies, when they are about
to pee. So cute.
Standing him in
front of the potty and holding his tiny pickle, cooing, patiently asking him to
do tinkles. And when he did - squirted an innocent stream out of the throbbing
spigot she held in her fingers... she often wet her panties a little too.
That era was long
gone. First went Jimmy's infant reflexes: his sensitivity and reaction to
tickle. Then he learned to hold his willy aiming it in the potty. It wasn't
long until Jimmy stopped using the children's potty at all, growing tall enough
to climb on an adult toilet. She didn't teach him those things. Laura wanted
her son to depend on her. She wanted Jimmy to call her to wipe his butt after
number two. Which she always did with wet baby wipes. Jimmy hated the word
"baby". Like any boy, he wanted to grow up as quickly, as possible.
She should have removed the toilet tissue from all house bathrooms, so he'd
never learn to wipe his bottom. But he inevitably did. Her only remaining
opportunity to admire her son's bare bum was the daily bath. And finally, a
year ago, she lost that too. How could an eight year old be so shy? Many of her
friends still bathed their sons: even older than Jimmy.
Her little bunny
was growing up and Laura didn't like it at all. She did nothing wrong - for him
to reject her like that. If that growing distance between them wasn't bad
enough, the school trouble started. Laura was called into the Principal's
office almost every week. She didn't know what to do, having refused to put
Jimmy over her knees, as all of her friends suggested.
That's when she
stumbled upon the ETB program website. She's never been into national-feminism,
but the reference to puppies and kittens immediately made her wet. It was right
up her alley. Not to mention the money side. No doubt many moms
"corrected" their sons for the lifetime financial stability offered
by the program. Others considered it their duty because of ideology. Laura just
wanted to enjoy Jimmy's second toddlerhood.
"Harper!"
one of the nurses called.
"Come on,
honey. It's our turn." Laura got up and took Jimmy's hand.
The boy heavily
sighed and followed her to the cute blond nurse. Why all medical staff here was
so young and pretty? He always felt more comfortable around older women.
"James Kyle
Harper. Date of birth..." the nurse confirmed Jimmy's bio with his mom and
stopped tapping her small tablet, "Hi. I am Molly. Dr. Larsen will be with
us shortly. Hop up on the table, sweetie."
She picked Jimmy
up and before he could say anything, sat him on the soft changing table
surface. The boy gave his mom a worried look. Why the nurse put him here, if
the doctor was only going to ask a couple of questions? Jimmy stared at the
pretty nurse, trying to guess her next step. Only to hear the dreaded words.
"Could you
undress your son please?" she casually asked his mom.
"Mom, you
said..."
"Shh, baby.
Don't make a scene. It'll be over in no time. Raise your arms."
Jimmy didn't have
much of a choice and reluctantly allowed his mom to pull up and remove his
t-shirt.
"Pants
too," the nurse said briefly glancing at Jimmy, "And the diaper... I
mean his underwear. The doctor needs him completely undressed."
Was she serious?
It wasn't a "what if" scenario anymore. Jimmy's worst fear just came
true. He looked at Lucy, watching her mom quickly undress a seven year old
Matty at the next changing table. Matty's face was red with embarrassment,
though he seemed to have accepted his fate.
"Do you need
help with him, mom?" Lucy asked, grinning from ear to ear.
"No honey.
Thanks. I'll tell you if I do."
"Boys this
little are always examined naked?" Lucy turned to her brother's nurse for
confirmation.
"Of
course," the nurse nodded, "The doctor is going to examine him from
head to toe."
"Including...
the boy parts?" Lucy giggled, staring at Jimmy with her big blue eyes.
"That
too," the nurse said.
Jimmy couldn't
stand Lucy's smug face.
"Honey, we
need to get these off," Laura said softly, moving her son's hand, so she
could unbutton and unzip his jeans. By now she's already removed his shoes and
socks.
Jimmy just froze.
It was surreal: being undressed by his mother like a two year old. Could she
save some of his dignity by allowing him do it? Not really. He was going to lie
on this table naked no matter what.
"Lay him on
his back. It'll make things easier," the nurse suggested.
"Lie down,
honey," Laura gently pushed Jimmy on his back. "Here we go. Now let's
get your pants off."
Laura raised
Jimmy's legs, taking a mental note, how good it felt to undress her son in this
position, like a baby.
"Mom, I
don't wanna... " the boy protested.
Laura just smiled
and yanked the already pulled down jeans off Jimmy's legs.
"Now
these," she slid her fingers inside the waist of his white briefs.
"Tighty-whities!"
Lucy giggled.
"Mom,
please! I am not... like those babies" Jimmy begged, clutching his
underwear with both hands.
"Jimmy!"
Laura raised her voice. "You heard the nurse. Please move your hands and
let me pull your briefs down."
"But I don't
wanna!" Jimmy broke out with tears, "I am not a baby!"
"Sure about
that?" Lucy just couldn't stay quiet.
Lucy's mom gave
the girl an angry look. By now she already undressed her son, who lied on his
table naked covering his crotch.
"Naughty
little boy!" Lucy slapped Matty's hands away. "No playing with
yourself!"
The girl was
immensely enjoying her seven year old brother's embarrassment. Jimmy's too. The
best day of her life: to see both of them naked.
"So
shy," Jimmy's nurse chuckled, watching Laura's struggle to lower her son's
underwear, "I am sorry, sweetie, but you can't have your undies on. How am
I going to take your temperature?"
That was too
much. Jimmy's checkup was turning out to be exactly the same, as the two year
old's, who lied on this table before him.
"I am not a
baby... not a baby..." he kept chanting hysterically, tears streaming down
his cheeks. "I wanna go home!"
"Look!"
the nurse said suddenly, holding a small toy truck. "Wanna play with
it?"
She handed the
toy to Jimmy waiting for him to take it. That split second was enough for Laura
to yank his briefs down.
"Thanks!"
she said, effortlessly pulling the white briefs off her son's legs.
Jimmy's eyes
widened. It was over. It happened. What he was going to do? He froze watching
his mom slide the last piece of clothing off his ankles. It couldn't be
happening. It was so, so, so embarrassing. He wanted to disappear in the thin
air.
"What a cute
little boy you have!" 12 year old Lucy told Laura with a smug face, like
she was one of the moms.
If that wasn't
bad enough, Jimmy clearly heard a faint laughter outside the window. He turned
his head to meet the gaze of four girls Lucy's age - focused on his groin.
Laura smirked,
seeing her son quickly covering himself.
"Please
don't, honey," she told Jimmy with a soft smile, taking his hands away,
"Boys shouldn't touch their pee-pees."
"Like anyone
here has seen anything new between you legs," Jimmy's nurse said with a
condescending smile. "Why don't you play with your truck instead of your
little pickle."
Lucy's giggle
sent new hot waves over Jimmy's already red face.
"Mom, how
come you didn't buy such thermometer for Matty?" she asked, turning to her
brother's nurse again. "Are they like the special hospital kind? I've
never seen one of those in a drugstore."
"You mean on
the mainland? They are relatively new," the nurse explained. "Very
convenient. No need to hold the thermometer. Even our youngest patients are
able to retain them."
"No
kidding!" Lucy giggled. "With such large bulb... Perfect for little
boys' bums."
Horrified Jimmy
watched his nurse lubricating the lollipop-looking thermometer. He knew where
it was going, but her preparations seemed surreal.
"Legs
up!" the nurse said enthusiastically, bringing Jimmy back to reality.
"No, no,
no!" he protested, after she tried to lift his legs. "I'm not
a..."
"Baby?"
the nurse looked at him with a condescending smile. "Honey, we take all
children's temperature rectally."
"Don't make
a scene," Laura told her son. "The nurse knows what she's
doing."
"But I am
not a baby!" Jimmy cried in anguish, having lost his mom's support.
It was so unfair!
Bawling like a two year old, Jimmy struck the soft table padding with his fists
and kicked his legs, preventing the nurse from grabbing them again. Laura stood
silent watching her son's tantrum with a faint smile. It was rather funny
seeing a naked third-grader kicking and squirming like a restless toddler
during a diaper change.
"Would you
mind holding his legs?" the nurse asked, showing signs of frustration.
"I am so
sorry. He's usually not like that."
Laura took both
of her son's ankles and raised his legs as far, as she could, pressing Jimmy's
knees to his chest. She's been longing to do it for so many years.
"It's me,
honey," she said with a warm smile. "I know you're not a baby. Could
you be a big boy for me and calm down?"
Jimmy's crying
subsided to sobs. It was his mommy after all: her smell, touch, and of course
words. Which made him feel little instead of big. Lying naked on a changing table
like a two year old. With his own mom holding him in the most humiliating
position with his boy parts and even the poop hole on full display.
In any case,
fighting the battle he could not win only made the situation more embarrassing.
Another school age boy: Matty just accepted his fate, preserving the last bits
of his dignity. Jimmy's best course of action was to do the same: pretend he's
not in this horrible room. He closed his eyes. It kind of worked. Until Lucy
decided to remind him where he was.
"Nice
view!" she chuckled.
Jimmy opened his
eyes. No, Lucy didn't mean the ocean, She was staring right between his raised
legs. He couldn't imagine a worse nightmare. But he knew, things were about to
get much worse.
"Thanks,"
the nurse gave his mom a nod. "Can you spread his legs a little? Perfect.
I'm going to put some of this cream on his bum, so the thermometer goes in
easier."
Jimmy flinched at
the cold touch of the stranger's finger right to his sensitive hole. Having
deftly massaged her cream into the boy' puckered anus, the nurse squeezed a
drop of the white substance on her index finger, and without wasting a second,
inserted it in Jimmy's butt.
"Let's
loosen you up a little," she told the mortified boy, wiggling and twisting
her finger inside him. "By the way... when was the last time he had the
bowel movement? Feels a bit constipated to me."
"You think
so?" Laura struggled to keep the concerned face, that funny her son looked
right now, embarrassed by the nurse's question.
"I don't think,"
the nurse said matter of factly. "I know. Well... the thermometer might
help if you know what I am mean."
Lucy giggled.
The nurse
withdrew her finger, applied more cream on it and put it in Jimmy's bum,
followed by the usual wiggling and twirling. The unpleasant feeling made Jimmy
quiver. It tingled and hurt. The nurse didn't care at all. She repeated painful
insertions several times, finally declaring Jimmy "all ready" with a
satisfied smile.
He froze in
horror, feeling something cold press against his hole.
"Tickle-tickle-tickle!"
the nurse smiled, stroking his sensitive balls.
Jimmy shuddered
and the next moment a large foreign object entered his butt.
"Here we go.
It wasn't that bad... was it?"
The thermometer
didn't hurt Jimmy too bad, if that's what she meant. But it couldn't have been
any worse. He was reduced to a helpless toddler. Any pediatric nurse could do
whatever she pleased to him. While his own mom not only kept quiet, but... he
couldn't believe it... was helping his tormenter. If that wasn't bad enough, he
realized he's about to prove to everyone in the room what a toddler he was. By
having an accident after the nurse takes the thermometer out. It couldn't be
happening to him. Was he really no different than the two year old who lied on
this table before him?
The tingling in
his butt turned into painful burning, causing an unbearable urge to poop. If it
wasn't for the thermometer plugging him, Jimmy would have already had the
mortifying accident in front of everybody.
"Let me take
over," the nurse crossed Jimmy's ankles, holding them with one hand. The
other one put a thickly folded diaper cloth under his butt. "Just in
case."
Jimmy's cheeks
burned with shame. How did she know? The boy groaned, feeling the thermometer
move inside him. Couldn't she leave the damn thing alone?
"It's
definitely going to help with his little problem," the nurse said,
wiggling the thermometer. "I can see it already."
"Is he
pushing the thermometer out?"
"You have no
idea," the nurse wiggled the plastic stick again, intensifying Jimmy's
urge to expel everything in his bum.
"How is my
little bunny doing?" Laura looked at her son affectionately, caressing his
bare butt.
It's been ages
since she felt the tender skin of his round bottom. And the plastic thermometer
sticking of her baby boy's little hole... Good thing she was wearing a dress -
to hide her wet panties.
The nurse finally
let the thermometer be. Laura was mesmerized by the sight. Unable to resist the
temptation, she "adjusted" the plastic stick, pointing its display
up. Looked like it needed other adjustments. Laura pushed the thermometer in,
turned it left and right... She wanted to see Jimmy's reaction.
Exactly what she
expected. The thermometer was going to produce predictable results. The naked
boy lying in front of her was no longer a third-grade brat she straggled with
for the past year. It was her little Jimmy again. She had complete control over
his most private body functions. She would no longer be deprived of her mother's
fun. She loved it so much when Jimmy was little - to use a thermometer, along
with a few other objects to make him poop. Lying exactly like this: in the
diapering position.
"What's
wrong baby?" she asked sweetly, twisting a thermometer in Jimmy's butt.
"Do you wanna go potty?"
Making her son
uncomfortable - to lovingly coo soothing words to him was her favorite game.
"I know,
pumpkin. Kids don't like their temperature taken. Just hold on for a little
longer, baby."
Jimmy was visibly
upset. Forget the mean nurse. His mom started to address him as a toddler.
"Do you
wanna go number two, sweetie? No?" Laura turned to the nurse. "He's
not gonna poop right away, is he? After you take this thermometer out."
"He
might." the nurse gave Laura a sly look. "Most kids do. Don't worry,
It won't be a problem at all. Plenty of baby wipes to clean him with."
Jimmy let out a
sigh of relief, after he heard his mom's phone ring. At least she'd stop
wiggling the thermometer in his butt.
"Hi
Maggie... The flight was great. And the island... So beautiful... Hey, can I
call you back? Say in 20 minutes... I am at the pediatricians office now... No,
nothing happened. Just a well-baby checkup... Yeah, I am talking about Jimmy...
He'll always be my baby..."
Good thing she
didn't reveal more details about the "well-baby checkup" to their
former neighbor.
"So funny!
Why their thermometers shake like this?"
Jimmy blushed
realizing he became the object of Lucy's attention again.
"Wiggle it
for me, baby!" the girl asked him. "Yeah, the thermometer in your
bum. Are you trying to push it out? You know what's gonna happen after that,
don't you?"
Lucy moved closer
to Jimmy's table. His mom didn't mind, busy with checking her email, or
whatever else she did with her phone. Lucy picked a moment, when Jimmy's nurse
looked away and quickly bounced his thermometer.
"Aah!"
the boy gasped, kicking his legs.
"What's
wrong?" Jimmy's nurse gave him a surprised look.
"Don't do it
again! OK?" Matty's nurse told Lucy with laughter.
She must have
seen the whole thing. Lucy seemed to become friends with her brother's nurse,
casually chatting with her about the two naked boys.
"How
cute!" Lucy giggled, pointing at Jimmy's crotch. "Do thermometers
cause it? Matty always has a stiffie when I take his temperature."
"Absolutely
normal reaction" her brother's nurse explained.
"Because
he's gonna pee? The thermometer makes boys go number one as well? Matty springs
a fountain every single time. At least when I take his temperature. Laying him
on the back, like you did. Or it has nothing to do with the thermometer? Do
little boys always pee after pooping?"
"Wouldn't
you want them to?"
"To pee in
the diaper they've just messed? Sure. Keeps the new one dry longer. The diapers
are so expensive."
"Exactly."
"Do you
think both of them are going to make a mess after their temp taken?"
"Looks like
it."
The conversation
went for another few minutes. Jimmy felt his face change several shades of red,
forced to listen to Lucy's blabber: comparing his boy parts with her brother's
and asking the nurse countless questions. "Why boys' strain their
pee-pees, when they are about to tinkle?" "Why Matty's little balls
jump, when you adjusts the thermometer in his bum?" "Are there more tricks
to make a boy pee or poop?" And other things 12 year old girls are curious
about.
"Hi!" a
tall blond woman in mid twenties approached Jimmy's table. "Angela Larsen,
a resident pediatrician and developmental behavior specialist."
"Hello,
Dr.Larsen," Jimmy's mom shook the doctor's hand. "I am Laura Harper,
and this is my son Jimmy."
"How are
doing, little Jimmy?" Dr.Larsen asked the shy boy with a faint
Scandinavian accent.
The young
doctor's face blinded Jimmy with its beauty. Not that it mattered now, since
everyone could see him naked, he'd have much preferred the attractive doctor to
meet him in a different situation.
"How long
he's been holding it, Molly?" the doctor asked, casually pushing Jimmy's
thermometer in.
Jimmy groaned. He
desperately needed to poop.
"Three minutes,"
the nurse told the doctor.
"Let's keep
it for another three," the doctor decided, wiggling the thermometer one
last time. "Has your son been constipated lately?"
She took out her
tablet and proceeded to ask Jimmy's mom all sorts of embarrassing questions
about gas, colics, and the potty habits - suitable for a one year old rather
than a third-grader. His old doctor never asked anything like that. Diaper
rash? Seriously?
"Does his
foreskin fully retract? I am going to check in a moment, but have you noticed
anything unusual? How he typically pees? One long stream or several
bursts?"
Then went even
more embarrassing questions about the stool.
"How long it
usually takes him to do his potty business? Does he strain too much sitting on
the potty? Does he cry pushing the stool out?"
Jimmy couldn't
bear listening to the pretty doctor, discussing him like a one year old baby,
but the worst was yet to come.
"So how is
your son's potty training going?" she asked casually. "How many times
he wets his pants during the day? Or he only wets at night?"
"He..."
Laura struggled to keep the straight face.
"He has
number two accidents as well?"
Why she kept
assuming those things? Did she want to embarrass him? She's certainly
succeeded. As if lying naked with a thermometer in his butt wasn't embarrassing
enough.
"What's your
favorite diaper brand?"
That was too
much. But worst of all his mom started to play along, recalling Jimmy's
struggle with potty training at the age of three.
"Do you
typically administer enemas when he's constipated?"
The constipation
topic prompted the nurse to resume twirling and wiggling the thermometer in
Jimmy's butt. The boy trembled and squirmed, made to endure the excruciating
urge to void his bowels, followed by the sharp tingling at the tip of his willy
that made him want to pee.
The nurse
undoubtedly loved torturing boys like him. While his mom just watched with a
smile. She'd never think a pediatric nurse can do something wrong. The cruel
doctors didn't care either. When was it going to stop? He must have held the
damn thermometer in his bum for those additional three minutes already. Why
everyone wanted to wiggle it? Who hasn't touched it already? Even Lucy did.
The young doctor
put her tablet away and looked at Jimmy with a smirk. She definitely knew what
was happening to him.
"Is he
pushing the thermometer out, Molly? Good thing you put this diaper cloth under
his bottom," she turned to Laura again. "So when was the last time
your son had bowel movement?"
"I don't know."
Jimmy's mom shrugged her shoulders. "He doesn't tell me."
"What do you
mean? You let him use the adult's bathroom? Unsupervised?"
"Yes."
"But he
calls you to wipe his butt?"
"No."
"I wouldn't
trust an eight year old with that. Don't tell me you never inspected his bottom
after doing number two."
"He wouldn't
let me."
"That's a
different issue: following the rules you set for him. But as far, as the
hygiene, we have different standards here. An eight year old needs to use a
potty chair. Under the adult's supervision."
Jimmy's jaw
dropped. The doctor finally acknowledged his age, which was good, but she also
put a "potty chair" in the same sentence. Was she serious?
"And you
need to keep track of your son's potty business." Dr.Larsen continued.
"Both number one and number two. When, where, and how he did it: in the
potty, in his pants or diaper, during the bath or diaper change, etc.
Jimmy's mom
nodded in agreement, making his heart sink.
"Glad I am
not the only one thinking about this." Laura said. "Boys make such a
mess in the bathroom."
"Exactly.
Wet toilet seats, puddles on the floor, forgetting to flush. An adult bathroom
should be off-limits for him."
The doctor
glanced at her watch. "A couple more minutes. Let me check a few things while
he's lying like this on his back."
She reached
between Jimmy's legs taking a hold of his willy with her cold fingers. To make
matters worse Lucy came closer to watch what the doctor was doing to his
pee-pee.
"Shh! No
fussing!" the doctor gave Jimmy a stern look. "Hold still, little
one. It doesn't hurt... Here we go," she turned to Jimmy's mom. "The
foreskin is very tight, but fully retracts. Good. Erections like this are
pretty common at his age. It means only one thing, when little boys strain their
tiny penises... You're not going to pee on me, are you? I better move to the
side."
Jimmy was indeed
struggling with the sharp urge to pee, that had been building up since the
nurse put the thermometer in his butt. He couldn't even decide which urge was
stronger now: number one or number two. Both were driving him insane, the only
thought in his head being to somehow endure this horrible checkup without a wet
or messy accident.
The doctor's cold
fingers moved lower, making Jimmy flinch. The tall Scandinavian goddess was now
feeling his sensitive balls, rolling them in her hand.
"Both
testicles have fully descended." she announced to Jimmy's mom, continuing
her ministrations.
Jimmy shivered
and squirmed in extreme discomfort. The tickle was unbearable. It felt like
being touched by icicles. Under the gaze of her equally cold steel blue eyes.
Her white medical lab coat made her look like the Snow Queen: the evil main
character of the fairytale, that gave Jimmy frequent nightmares: to the point
he couldn't sleep in the dark. He was afraid the Snow Queen would come in the
middle of the night and take him, while his mom happily sleeps in her bedroom.
Looked like the kidnapper and torturer of little boys finally found him. Was
this cruel Scandinavian doctor going to take him to Lapland? Or torture him
here, on the tropical island?
"See how his
testicles jump when I touch them?" Dr.Larsen pointed out for Jimmy's mom.
"Excellent sensitivity. Especially here, behind the scrotum."
She flicked her
fingers across Jimmy's most ticklish spot: the back of his boy's sack. Covered
in goose bumps and uncontrollably shaking, he couldn't stand the excruciating
tickle torture anymore. But worst of all the tickle impaired his ability to
resist the sharp urge to pee.
"Make sure
to check his reflexes often," the doctor asked Laura. "For example
when you change his diapers or bath him. Both boy's testicles need to pull up
in his little sack when he's lightly tickled between his legs. Very good."
Seeing her son's
distress along with his bobbing willy and other tell tale signs of the
impending "baby boy's fountain", Laura wondered if the doctor was
trying to get Jimmy to pee. She often used the same tickling trick when he was
little. It stopped working at the age of three. Would be interesting to see the
doctor succeed. Of course a pediatrician is more skilled manipulating little
boy's willies and balls, than any mom.
"Just tickle
him?" Laura asked the doctor.
"Yes."
the doctor nodded. "Like this. Use very light touch. Just glide your
fingertips over his sensitive areas."
Jimmy couldn't
hold his pee anymore. He groaned and let go, releasing a long stream out of his
willy.
"Oh my gosh,
Jimmy!" Laura was anxiously waiting for this moment, but decided to act
surprised. "I am so sorry, doctor."
"I knew that
was gonna happen!" Lucy giggled. "Little boys use every opportunity
to show off their peeing skills."
Jimmy gathered
all his strength and stopped peeing. His face was so hot, one could use it to
boil water. He wished the Earth would open and swallow him.
"Did you do
it on purpose?" Laura asked her son with a stern look, trying to hide
excitement.
"It's
OK," the doctor smiled condescendingly. "Every boy does it
here."
"They sure
do," the nurse confirmed with a scoffing chuckle. "Makes collecting
urine samples a breeze."
"Good
idea," the doctor nodded. "Would you, Molly?"
The nurse put a
plastic cup under Jimmy's willy.
"Go
on," she told Jimmy. "Don't be shy. Fill this cup, honey."
Jimmy desperately
needed to pee, but he couldn't imagine springing a fountain again in front of
everybody.
"Little boys
always do it at the worst possible moment," the doctor sighed. "But
when you actually want one to pee... in the cup for a urine sample or in his
potty instead of wetting his pants... every single one becomes so
stubborn."
"Sweetie,
you need to pee in the cup." Laura firmly told her son.
"Hold
on," the doctor smirked. "Let me bring something to help him
tinkle."
She went to the
fridge in the corner of the room and dispensed a few ice cubes into a plastic
cup.
"This should
speed things up," the doctor explained to Laura upon her return, taking an
ice cube out if the cup. "The easiest way to make a child pee when you
need to collect a urine sample, is to rub his lower tummy with an ice
cube."
Jimmy's body
jolted at the touch of the ice below his belly button. The urge to pee
instantly intensified and he let out a short spurt.
"Good
boy!" the doctor smiled. "Let's just aim your little spigot in the
cup."
She took the
boy's willy in her cold fingers.
"Why don't
you pee a little more?" the doctor asked Jimmy, visibly enjoying his
embarrassment. "We need a full cup, honey."
With his eyes
full of tears Jimmy kept wondering, why his doctor and nurse were so determined
to collect his urine sample right here, with everyone watching. Not to mention
they were making him pee like a helpless toddler: lying on his back in the
humiliating diapering position.
"So that's
how one makes a boy pee?" Lucy asked, taking interest in their efforts.
"Yes,"
the doctor explained, resuming to tickle Jimmy's lower tummy with a dripping
ice cube. "The cold makes the bladder contract and causes the urge to
urinate."
"I thought
you'd rub his pee-pee or something," Lucy giggled.
"That works
too. But we can't contaminate his urethra right now, since we need a urine
sample."
The 12 year old
girl looked perplexed, prompting Dr.Larsen to explain the term: "The
little slit at the tip of the boy's penis."
The doctor gently
rolled back Jimmy's foreskin - just enough to show Lucy his pee hole.
"There is
another technique," she continued. "Very effective considering how
cold my fingers are after holding ice. Leave it on his tummy and use your hand
to tickle him. Here, behind the scrotal sack. Every boy's most ticklish
spot."
"Oh my
gosh!" Lucy laughed watching Jimmy spurt a long stream. "Now he's
really trying!"
"See how
easy it was?" the doctor turned to Laura, stroking the back of her son's
quivered ballsack. "Even the most stubborn kids can't hold their pee, if
you know the right spots. He won't be able to stop if you keep tickling him.
Let's make him empty his bladder."
It couldn't be
any worse. Lying naked on the changing table with the evil doctor making him
pee for everyone's amusement. She took complete control over his most private
body functions.
"The
testicles are very sensitive at his age," the doctor explained to Laura.
"Use it to your advantage. The tickle makes it difficult for the child to
fight the urge. It forces him to relax his muscles and let go."
The doctor used
her fingertips to play with Jimmy's balls.
"Look at
that!" she smiled "Trying to impress us, aren't you Jimmy? At last!
Doing your little boy's business. Is it always that hard to get you to tinkle
in the potty? You prefer wetting your pants, don't you?"
She shook the
last drops off Jimmy's pee-pee.
"Tickle and
cold." she told Laura with a satisfied smile. "All there is to make a
little boy pee. Chill your hands with ice before his diaper change, and he'd
spring his baby boy's fountain, guaranteed. You'll save a lot on diapers, you
know. By making sure he emptied his bladder before you put a new diaper on
him."
"Doubt he'd
like my cold hands."
"Don't feel
sorry for him. Diaper changes shouldn't be pleasant for children his age. Makes
stubborn boys like him learn to use potty quicker."
"Never
though the tickle trick works on older boys," Laura told Dr.Larsen.
"I used it to get Jimmy to pee in the potty, when he was little. But it
stopped working when he turned three."
"The reflex
weakens with age, when the child develops better bladder control. But it never
goes away. And can be reversed, you know." The doctor winked at Laura.
"We'll talk about it in a moment."
Jimmy gave the
pretty doctor a suspicious look. What was going on here? What they were going
to do to him?
"It's time,
Molly," Dr.Larsen told the nurse pointing at the thermometer.
"Brace
yourself!" the nurse chuckled, abruptly jerking the plastic stick out of
the boy's butt, followed by the loud pooping.
"Eew!"
Lucy held her nose in mock disgust. "Ma! Look, that boy pooped a lot more
than Matty having his thermometer taken out."
"Good,"
Lucy's mom smiled sarcastically, "Guess he's no longer constipated."
Red-faced Jimmy
wondered how he didn't die of shame.
"I told you
the thermometer would help," the nurse winked at his mom.
"Why you
held all that poop, honey?" Laura asked, embarrassing Jimmy even more.
"Didn't I ask you to go potty before leaving the house?"
Jimmy's answer
was more poop coming out of his violently contracting hole. He couldn't stop
until the painful cramps in his stomach passed.
"Oh my gosh,
that wasn't it?" Lucy laughed. "How much poop such a little boy can
hold?"
"Quite a
bit!" Jimmy's nurse chuckled, still holding his legs up in the air.
"You think
he's gonna make more poopies?" Lucy giggled. "He hasn't..."
"Peed?"
the nurse winked at the girl touching Jimmy's balls with an ice cube.
The sudden cold
touch took the boy by surprise, making him convulsively spurt a stream of pee.
"Here we
go!" she proceeded with tickling behind the boy's balls with her cold
fingers. "A little more, honey. Good boy! All done? Peed and pooped
everything out?"
She pulled the
dirty diaper cloth from under Jimmy's bottom, and threw it in a special bin.
"You seem to
know a lot about little boys." she told Lucy, starting to clean Jimmy's
butt with a wet wipe.
"That they
spring a fountain after pooping?" Lucy giggled. "Everyone knows
that."
"Keep
still!" the nurse told Jimmy, wiping his balls with an ice-cold wipe.
"What a
restless baby!" Lucy giggled. "Baby boys can't lie still during
diaper changes."
Lying in the
diapering position, Jimmy couldn't see, that the nurse put an ice cube inside a
folded baby wipe she was cleaning his boy parts with. It tickled so bad, the
urge to pee started to build up again. She took her time tormenting the
shivering boy, and even more putting the diaper rash cream on his most ticklish
spots: the butt crack, anal opening, balls, willy, and groin folds. She was
immensely enjoying Jimmy's discomfort and embarrassment. Unable to kick his
legs firmly held by her other hand, the boy squirmed, desperately trying to
escape the nurse's tickling fingers.
"All done
and ready for you, Dr.Larsen!" Molly declared after a few agonizing minutes,
allowing Jimmy to lower his legs.
The young doctor
took over, proceeding with the thorough physical: listening to Jimmy's lungs
and heart, feeling his tummy, and checking his throat. She kept the naked boy
lying on the table, like a six-months old.
"No signs of
diaper rash," the doctor told Jimmy's mom after spreading his legs.
"You take such a good care of your son's skin."
"I
try."
Jimmy was upset,
that his moms started to play along again. Why couldn't she tell the doctor
that he didn't wear diapers? And what... his eyes widened... his nurse was
holding in her hands? Definitely a pack of baby diapers. He's never heard of
that brand: "Happy Wetters". The package featured a boy his age,
wearing an explicitly babyish purple-striped diaper. "Boy diapers. Ages
7-8" Jimmy read. Everything pointed out those diapers were for him.
"Perfect,"
the nurse nodded after briefly holding a diaper next to Jimmy's crotch.
"Which one you like more, sweetie? This one with stars and rockets? Or you
prefer trucks and buses?"
He was lost for
words. The nurse was indeed about to diaper him. What for? The checkup was,
thankfully, over. What was holding his mom here? Jimmy couldn't wait to get out
of the "baby clinic". Before someone put a diaper on him or stuck a
pacifier in his mouth. But most importantly he wouldn't have to lie on the
changing table naked.
"What are
you doing?" the nurse stopped Jimmy's hand from reaching his underwear.
"The doctor didn't tell you to sit."
"Uhm...
getting dressed."
"You can't
wear your old clothes, silly. They are contaminated."
The nurse grabbed
all Jimmy's clothing including his snickers and threw it in the bin with a
biohazard emblem. He didn't know what "contaminated" meant, but his
heart sunk upon realizing, that his ordeal was far from over. Jimmy recalled
how his mom packed plenty of her clothes, but none of his. No, they wouldn't...
He wanted off this island. Immediately. On the first flight home.
"I don't
know if your mom lets you dress all by yourself," the nurse continued in a
patronizing tone. "But here, in a pediatric office, only adults can dress
and undress little kids like you."
Jimmy bit his
lip. Arguing would just keep him naked longer.
"Let me find
something suitable for a boy, like you," the nurse said.
She reached under
the table and showed Jimmy a short t-shirt with the nursery print. Was she
serious? He'd never wear anything so embarrassing. He's not two. Didn't they
have plain t-shirts? Of any color. Or just white.
"Come on,
sweetie. Raise your arms."
She was serious.
"Jimmy!"
Laura gave her son a stern look. "Let the nurse put the t-shirt on
you!"
Jimmy reluctantly
raised both arms. Whatever. They'd go to the nearest clothing store and buy him
something normal. Let's just get out of here. Which he obviously couldn't do
naked.
"So
cute," the nurse admired Jimmy. "Now lie down again, honey."
"Absolutely
adorable," Lucy said, reminding Jimmy she was still there, staring at him.
"Boys are so cute bottomless."
He blushed
realizing the short t-shirt barely covered his belly button. Come on, pretty
nurse! Where is my underwear and pants?
"Legs
up!" the nurse took a hold of Jimmy's ankles. "Here comes the
diaper!"
"I am not
wearing it!" Jimmy protested.
"I am sorry,
sweetie." the nurse started to explain with a hint of sarcasm. "I
know you are a big boy, who goes potty..."
Jimmy cringed.
Why everyone kept using that word around him? It's been years since he sat on a
plastic potty. And why so much attention to the toilet business?
"But every
kid is required to wear diapers in the hospital," the nurse continued.
"Regardless of age."
"What
hospital?!" The nurse's words hit Jimmy like a lightning. "Mom! What
she's talking about?"
"Manners,
young man!" Laura raised her voice, trying to hide a guilty smile.
"You know the nurse's name."
"Mom, what's
going on here?"
"I am sorry,
honey."
"Your mommy
didn't tell you?" the doctor joined the conversation. "All new
arrivals under the age of ten are quarantined and monitored for 24 hours in a
special medical facility. We need to run a few additional tests. To make sure
you didn't bring any nasty infections from the mainland. The children born on
the island don't have immunity against those."
Jimmy managed to
understand only half of doctor's reasoning. Her voice was calm, and everything
seemed logical. Though still didn't make his situation any better. Why he
agreed to come to this island? Was that decision ever up to him? Did his mom
know what a horrible mistake she made? This humiliating checkup alone... Has it
taught her anything? And now... the hospital?
"I wanna go
home!" Jimmy couldn't hold back his tears anymore. "Mom! Please!
Let's go back. I don't want to be here."
He wept in
despair, realizing not only his mom knew about everything he'd be subjected to
on this island, including the hospital, but she also knew what was going to
happen to him at that hospital. No one routinely goes to a hospital just for
"observation" upon arriving at a tropical resort.
"'Please,
mommy!" Jimmy begged. "I don't wanna go to a hospital!"
"It's only
one day, baby."
"But I don't
wanna!" Jimmy cried louder. "I don't wanna be there! I don't wanna
wear a diaper!"
"For someone
who claims he's too big to be in diapers, you sure bawl like a one-year
old," the doctor said with a condescending smile. "Look at other
kids. Not a single one threw a tantrum."
Jimmy felt silly
and embarrassed during his pathetic protest, lying on the changing table
butt-naked. The lack of underwear was his last worry now, as his mom was about
to leave him at this terrifying clinic. The scary fairytale was unfolding right
before his eyes. The cruel Snow Queen in the white coat was taking him from his
mother to her ice palace: the hospital, where she tortured kidnapped little
boys.
"I think it's
best for you to leave." Dr.Larsen gently touched Laura's arm. "He'll
never stop crying with you here."
"I
understand," Laura said with a heavy sigh.
No matter how
much she prepared herself for this moment, it was impossible to walk away from
her crying son. Did she make a mistake? Should she grab him and catch the first
flight back? Then what? She already quit her old job. Which she hated upon
waking up every morning. No! She was not going to throw away her, and her son's
future over one day in a hospital. Eight year old boys don't plan their future.
The moms do.
"Calm down,
baby," Laura tried to wipe away Jimmy's tears. "I'll see you
tomorrow. Be a good boy and do everything the doctors and nurses tell
you."
Laura bent over
the changing table and hugged her son, noticing how nice his bare butt felt,
wrapped by her arm.
"I love you,
Jimmy," she quickly kissed him on the forehead and turned away to hide
tears in her eyes.
"Mooommyyy!"
Jimmy screamed. "Please! Don't leave me here!"
"Let's
go!" Dr.Larsen pulled Laura's arm with more determination.
"Aaaah!
Mommy!" Jimmy continued to cry hysterically.
"10
milligrams of T!" the young doctor ordered, briefly turning her head back.
"I've had enough of him! And Molly, please make sure he is placed in Unit
2B after the operation. They know how to handle fussy babies."
An operation?
Jimmy gasped for air. His suspicions were right. It wasn't just "a couple
of routine tests". Everyone here, particularly that mean blond doctor,
knew he was 100% healthy.
What they were
going to do to him? Turn him into a helpless baby since everyone here treated
him like one already? Probably not. He saw other boys his age and even older
walking the streets of the island. What else could they do to him?
A better question
was what his mom agreed to? Since she clearly knew about the
"operation". And... he sobbed in despair... it was probably her who
organized the whole thing. What she wanted done to him? She kept calling him
her little baby for the past several weeks. What's up with all her jokes about
his return to toddlerhood? Recalling how well he behaved when he was two.
Dreaming how much they would have enjoyed it again together. He didn't think
much about those remarks. Was she really serious?
No one can be
turned into a baby. It's not physically possible. He knew at least that much at
the age of eight. But the whole island seemed to be about one thing: the
babyhood. In its worst form: the complete absence of privacy. Whatever the evil
doctors were going to do to him, was to make him comply with the island's
demeaning customs.
"Let me
diaper you before you made a mess," the cute nurse reminded Jimmy of his
predicament. "Tiff! Could you help me with him please?"
"You want me
to hold him down?" another pretty nurse came to Jimmy's changing table.
"Please."
The other nurse
grabbed Jimmy by his ankles and raised his legs.
"Thanks."
"Let me
go!" the crying boy demanded. "Where's mommy?"
"You always
get fussy ones, Molly," Tiff said.
"Well, what
do you expect from an eight year old one? To calmly let you diaper him? Should
have behaved. He's going to pay fro his tantrum. Angie sent him to 2B."
"Amy's
dungeon? A bit harsh for refusing to wear a diaper, don't you think?"
"I'm just a
nurse. I don't make those decisions."
"Poor baby.
You know, Molly, what happens to cuties like him in 2B."
"They get
undivided Amy's attention. He brought it on himself. Alright, lift his bum, so
I can slide a diaper under it."
"Why don't
you let him stay bottomless? It's a crime to cover such a cute bum. Even with a
diaper."
"You know
it's not up to us. Besides, you should have seen the load he pooped out after I
took his rectal temp. How long before he does it again?"
Jimmy looked at
the nurses, trying to comprehend their conversation. Who was Amy? Some
super-mean doctor, who tortured little boys?
"Almost
forgot." Molly produced a small disposable syringe and filled it from one
of the tiny bottles on the nearby cart.
"That'd clam
him down for sure" Tiff smiled.
"Hold him
still" Molly released a small spurt of clear liquid out of the syringe and
bent over Jimmy.
He felt a sting
in his right thigh.
"All
done," the nurse smiled. "Now let's put this diaper on you, before
you peed all over the table."
Jimmy wanted to
protest, but suddenly felt the strange weakness come over him. His last sight
before drifting off to sleep was Molly's pretty face: reddish blond hair, full
lips, upturned nose, and the huge blue eyes. Looking straight at him, while
fastening the diaper tabs.
3. Raising a Good Boy: the National Feminist Perspective
The doctor took
Laura into her office, decorated with pictures of cute naked boys.
"All your
patients?" Laura looked around.
"Cute.
Aren't they? Would you mind if I add your son's photo?"
"Not at
all."
"Such a
sweetie. Though can be a real handful."
"I am so
sorry for his accidents. He didn't get any of his pee on you, did he?"
"No worries.
Actually... we made him pee and poop on purpose. An important behavior
reinforcement - making an eight year old experience a loss of bladder and bowel
control. Giving him a glimpse, what it is like to be a toddler. Makes the
further regression therapy easier."
"I
see."
"You think
anyone needs their urine samples? We just take them in the most humiliating
manner. Which," the doctor switched to a serious professional tone.
"… is what you are gonna be doing for the next two years: putting your son
in different embarrassing situations. Boys should live in constant shame."
"Shame saves
lives?" Laura chuckled, recalling the main ETB staple.
"It really
does."
"So he peed
because you tickled him?"
"He's going
to after the correction procedure. Today though, there were a few extra steps
to induce the urination and defecation urges. First, Molly gave him a generous
dose of fast acting diuretic rectally."
"I was
wondering what that ointment was. Never seen it before."
"Second, she
covered the thermometer with a strong laxative."
"Your
thermometers are rather unusual. Designed... to relieve constipation?"
"Glad you
figured it out."
Both women
laughed.
"And
finally, all our pediatricians hold ice cubes in their hands before entering
the exam room. You should chill your hands too for a diaper change, if you
enjoy innocent baby boy fountains."
"Are you going
to perform Jimmy's correction? Is that... a real surgery?"
"Yes and no.
It's a series of precise shots into the spinal cord, assisted by
electromagnetic imaging to hit the exact sensory pathways. The surgeon
stimulates the patient's urge to urinate to find the right "wire"
transmitting the signal to the brain. Having found the right neural pathway,
the surgeon administers the growth hormone into it."
"Making the
wire thicker?"
"Significantly.
A similar shot is administered into the neural "wire" responsible for
transmitting the defection urge. Wider wires transmit signals better,
intensifying the urges several times. There is a lot more to it. I am just
trying to explain it to you in simple terms."
"That's it?
Just two... wires? What about the tickle one?"
"There isn't
a single wire responsible for tactile senses. Not to mention the human body has
many ticklish spots. The whole tickle reflex is rather a side effect. See, when
the urination and defecation urge pathways grow, they intertwine with other
neural "wires", typically of the tactile sensory tract, since the
signals are coming from the skin closest to the boy's penis and anus. Basically
the whole groin area plus the tummy. The correction makes it extremely
sensitive."
"So when he
feels the tickle those tickle wires get hot and... short the peeing and pooping
ones?"
"Exactly. I
see you are starting to grasp the concept. Normal infants exhibit the same
reflex due to the extremely narrow spinal cord with many wires tightly pressed
together."
"That's why
I was able to tickle him to pee when he was little."
"Not only
the correction restores the specific infant reflexes in older children:
urinating when tickled between the legs, and defecating in response to the
irritation of the anus. It makes them several times stronger."
"Is it
painful?"
"The shots?
Somewhat. Plus the patient needs to be completely immobilized. So we prefer
general anesthesia."
"Is it
reversible?"
"No need.
Without additional shots the effect simply goes away - approximately by the
time your son reaches puberty. As the vertebral column grows, it provides more
space for the spinal cord, and the wires stop touching each other."
"Will he
need followup injections then - while we are here?"
"Very
unlikely. One should cover the full two years. It only sets the baseline
though. So if you want to increase your son's sensitivity to tickle, all you
need to do, is tickle him more. To heat up and short more wires, melting them
together. The effect lasts for several hours. We recommend prolonged tickling
sessions at least once a day. You'll find the right occasion. Most moms prefer
to do it right before the child's bath, since the things usually get quite
messy. You can "train" your son's reflexes more often, if you wish.
You won't hurt him. No one has ever died of tickle or thorough anal
stimulation."
"How
interesting. Never thought I'd be able to fine-tune such things."
"To a
certain extent. You'd need professional help to turn your boy into a six month
old infant, peeing and pooping from a single touch."
"You can do
that?"
"A specially
trained nurse can. Ask your regular pediatrician about tac-stim sessions...
Tactile stimulation... Intense tickling after the application of a special
ointment, that increases the skin sensitivity. Plus various mechanical and
electric stimulators. Again, an absolutely safe treatment. Though somewhat
extreme for the boy: keeps him on the verge of fainting. Oh... and be prepared
to deal with wet and messy pants a lot more often, since he won't be able to
hold either urge for longer than a couple of seconds."
"I'll think
about it. It does seem a little extreme."
"It's your
son. You decide, how much fun to have with him. Just make sure he'll have
embarrassing accidents daily, providing an opportunity to change him. Ideally
in public. Let others change him too: your friends, their daughters, even
strangers offering their help. Make every change the most unpleasant and
humiliating experience."
"I'll
try."
"He'll also
spend a lot of time at regular and after-school daycares. And with babysitters,
who humiliate boys much better, than moms. There are plenty of "bad
cops" he'll be exposed to, so you can be a good one."
Dr.Larsen
proceeded to explain how they rotated the caretaker staff: hospital and pediatric
office nurses, babysitters, not allowed to look after one boy for longer than
two months, daycare workers, and anyone else who comes in contact with her son.
"It teaches
him, that any girl or woman can undress him and touch his boy parts," she
explained. "Changing his pants and diapers, bathing, sitting him on the
potty, and otherwise caring for him. Not to mention the complete control over
his urination and defecation. Anytime, anywhere. That'll remind him of his
pathetic self when he grows up - every time he goes to the bathroom.
We carefully pick
caretaker personalities to alternate between good and bad cops," she
explained. "Making the boy wonder what comes next. Uncertainty is a
powerful tool to reinforce the feeling of vulnerability and despair. Not to
mention the shame of being seen naked by someone new. And having embarrassing
accidents in that person's presence. You are required to alternate babysitters
with daycare environment. Your son's pediatrician will also make sure the child
visits the hospital once in a while. The next two years are going to be quite a
ride for him. And you. Hope you are ready."
"I am."
"His potty
business is really up to you. You can make him go potty often to avoid wet and
messy pants. But we recommend staging a couple of accidents every day - ideally
at some public place like a busy mall. Or when you have guests. Your son needs
to be constantly reminded of his condition."
"I
understand the humiliation aspect of potty training older boys," Laura
said. "Don't get me wrong. It's a much better idea, than for example
diaper punishment. But how do I make it last for two and a half years? Sure
he'll be embarrassed to use the potty for the first couple of weeks, especially
under my supervision..."
"Not just
yours. Guests, babysitters, daycare workers, nurses... We'll make sure to
rotate all his caregivers, so he won't get used to one person."
"I get that.
But the concept is rather simple to grasp, don't you think? For an eight year
old. What am I supposed to do if, I mean when he starts using his potty?"
"First off,
he cannot "use" it on his own. He needs to ask you for his potty.
Telling you what he needs to do: pee-pees or poopies. Make him uses those baby
terms. And while you'd always put the potty in the living room, so you and
ideally some quests can observe his little boy's business, keep it locked in
the bathroom when not used: off-limits for your son."
"OK. What if
he starts regularly asking for his potty?"
"Don't give
it to him right away."
"What am I
going to tell him?"
"A lot of
different things. You can make him ask for his potty again, using the proper
words and tone. Keep doing it for a minute or two and he'll wet or mess
himself. You can simply forget where you put the potty. You can tell him you
are busy. Many moms dial their friends when they see the signs that the kid
needs to go potty."
Dr.Larsen showed
Laura a special number to chat with a bot.
"Or you can
find him something to do," she continued. "You can also keep him from
asking for a potty by scolding him. Experienced moms and babysitters time their
scolding. Looks like your kind of fun?"
"To scold
the kid when he's about to wet his pants? What'd I scold him for?"
"There is
always enough mischief. How about his potty training failure?"
Laura chuckled.
It did seem like fun.
"You should
also time all your public outings, so he'll be surrounded by people when he
feels the urge. Obviously you can't carry a potty with you everywhere you go.
Nor there are public restrooms for little kids on our island. I mean no
restroom for males.
But most
importantly it is you, not him - who decides when he needs to go number one or
number two. Offer him the potty at the worst time, when you have guests in the
house. Ask one of them - ideally some teenage girl to help your son with his
potty business: hold his willy, massage his tummy, wipe his butt... Ask him to
use the potty after a recent accident, when his bladder is empty. Praise him
for being a good boy and using his potty in public. There will always be some
12-14 year old girls, who'd tease him about it. Discuss his potty training with
your friends and even strangers: moms you meet at the mall, playgrounds, and
bus stops.
One way or
another trick him into refusing to pee and poop in the potty. Believe me,
asking him to use the potty in the most embarrassing context will make him
clamp up. It's not that hard to make an eight year old boy hate his potty.
And don't forget,
that the correction procedure made things very easy for you. It gives the boy a
30-second window to go potty like a "good boy". All you need to do is
delay giving your son the potty for a minute or so. He'll have an accident,
guaranteed."
"Right."
"Besides,
the potty privilege needs to be earned. The key to never completing your son's
potty training is focusing on its very early stage called elimination
communication. Are you familiar with that concept?'
"The
eco-friendly way of raising a baby?" Laura smirked sarcastically.
"Without landfills full of disposable diapers?"
She tried the so
called EC, when Jimmy was two: not because of its environmental aspect, but
solely to enjoy watching her son do his little boy's business right in front of
her. She did for a couple of days - until realizing she didn't need to practice
EC to make her son entertain her with baby boy fountains. She saw plenty of
action during diaper changes and baths.
Though right now,
applied to a shy eight year old, the idea of holding him butt-naked over a
plastic basin or potty took on a completely new meaning. Laura was confident
she'd be able to hold her eight year old son in such "classic EC
position". It'd surely make his face way redder, than just being sat on
the potty.
"The
environmental benefits of EC are really a bonus," the doctor explained.
"Your main goal should be maximizing the shame. EC typically precedes
potty training, so "teaching" an eight year old to pee and poop on
cue before you can trust him with using a potty is perceived as an infant's
activity, a lot more demeaning than being forced to wear a diaper. Not to
mention EC requires him to do his little boy's business in the full view of the
supervising adult: held on the changing table in a diapering position or over a
basin, bathroom sink, or another receptacle with his legs raised and spread. It
takes away the last bit of privacy the potty offers."
"I always
told him to keep his knees apart, when I sat him on the potty," Laura
recalled.
"Right. A
supervising adult should always be able to monitor the process. But wouldn't
you agree, an EC hold is just more fun."
"Holding
both of his legs up in a suspended squat position, with the butt and boy
package hanging over the potty? Absolutely!"
"Take your
time with EC, and your son's potty training will stretch over the two and a
half years quite naturally. You are the one who decides when to make the switch
from holding him over the potty to letting him sit on it. Let him graduate from
EC and fail at traditional potty training."
"By staging
a few accidents?"
"Which would
prompt you to "start over" with the part-time (diaper-wearing) EC,
followed by a diaper-free stage, then another try at potty training, which
he'll predictably fail at again."
"Never
thought of EC that way. I can basically reset Jimmy's potty training as often,
as I like."
"Exactly.
Would be rather awkward without the EC stage you can always go back to,
wouldn't it? Get yourself familiar with EC terms. Here's a couple for you.
"Pottytunity" - an opportunity to potty the little one. Basically any
time you feel like making him pee or poop. The "catch" concept
doesn't really apply, since the correction makes it easy for you to get the
needed results, making the likelihood of a catch 100%. You can still use
"special sounds" like "pss" and grunting, along with cooing
your son into making his little boy's business. It's more to embarrass him with
babytalk and assert his infant status, than actually coerce him to pee or poop.
Scrotal tickling and anal stimulation produce the results within seconds."
Dr.Larsen glanced
at her smartwatch. Plenty of time before the next appointment.
"In addition
to the spinal injections to correct the urination and defecation urges, we take
care of a few other things," she told Laura. "We use mild hormonal
therapy to give boys a perfect, slightly feminine body. Your son will basically
look like a three year old: with a bubble butt, the arched back to attenuate
it, and a slightly round tummy. The right diet will keep him in shape: not too
skinny and not chubby."
"What about
his..."
"Genitals?
We ensure, that they stay slightly underdeveloped. Not abnormally small. Just
toddler-like, even erect. An innocent little penis a cupid or angel would have.
Not a scaled down version of an adult..." Dr.Larsen momentarily wrinkled
her face in disgust. "...dick".
That's how Laura
liked little boys' pee-pees: small and infantile.
"Embrace
your feelings," the doctor continued. "There is nothing to be ashamed
of. No taboos. You are free to enjoy all your previously forbidden desires. As
long, as you are not hurting the child... physically. You can't hurt someone
you love, can you? Everything you do to your son, is for his own good, whether
it is pleasant or not."
"I am not
into spanking, if that's what you mean."
"We tolerate
corporal punishment to a certain degree. Not severe caning or anything
explicitly sadistic like that. As far, as tickling... like I said, no one has
ever died of it. A very effective way to reinforce the right behavior. Without
cuts, bruises, or any lasting damage.
One more thing
about their little penises. Not sure if you've noticed by watching the boy
checkups, none of them was circumcised. We are strictly against that barbaric
procedure. It traumatizes the child, and also makes the penis adult-like - a
big no-no here. We don't accept circumcised boys into the program.
From the
physiological point of few, the foreskin keeps the penis glans sensitive,
allowing several types of manipulations to cause the strong urination urge.
Among otherwise extreme sensations. One more effective technique to make the
boy behave in addition to tickling his extremely sensitive scrotum.
Which should be
smooth, round, and tight. To maintain the same toddler appearance even at the
age of 10. That's, by the way, when you are required to leave the island."
"In two
years, I know."
"It's hard
to fight changes in older boy's physique. We can take care of the pubic hair,
but will inevitably lose the battle with the adolescence, when boys start to
look masculine. Some moms are into that, and you are free to enjoy that stage
of your son's development. Just not on our island. The ETB program ends at the
age of 11.
What else?
Special additives to eliminate the poop odor. Makes the child defecate more
often: at least five times a day. Plenty of opportunities for you to stage an accident.
And punish him for it. Softly, like a mother would: e.g. making him do his
business lying legs-up on the changing table.
The correction
takes away the control of the bladder and bowels, but we don't want complete
incontinence: when the child doesn't feel that he wet his pants. We want the
boy to experience intense urination and defecation urges. And fight them with
everything he has... for a minute or so. We want him to live in constant fear
of unpleasant and embarrassing accidents.
And we want him
to know that adults: the women are in complete control of his two most private
body functions. Not only you decide when and where your son does his potty
business. You also decide how: in his pants, in the potty, held legs-up on the
changing table, etc.
It is not up to
him at all. He should live in constant uncertainty, not knowing if being good
would spare him from unpleasant treatments. For example, put him on the
changing table even after he diligently pooped in his potty. Tell him you want
to check if he peed and pooped everything out. Boys never do. Next time he'll
try harder, but it won't save him from the unpleasant tickling and anal
stimulation.
Most importantly
he should learn that once he was asked to pee or poop, his caretaker: you,
daycare worker, pediatric nurse, or even a 12 year old girl babysitting him,
will always get the results, no matter how hard he resists.
As far, as the
home attire, try to keep him butt-naked as much, as possible. Especially when
you have guests."
"Running around
the house bottomless is customary during toddler's potty training."
"And caring
for toddlers provides plenty of opportunities to leave the child completely
nude. You should expose your son to sun and air. Does wonders to the immune
system. We also offer special massage therapists that make house calls.
Everything is free.
Of course no
excessive nudity in public, except at designated places: beaches, kiddie pools,
fun fountains... You can't keep him naked or bottomless 100% of the time,
because he'll get used to nudity. It is the act of undressing the boy in the
presence of others, that makes him blush. Generally he should only wear pants
to pee and poop in them - ideally in public. So you'll have an excuse to take
them off.
Natural, isn't
it? No need to explain weird rules that boys need to be naked all the time,
they need no modesty, etc. We want him to be very modest. And we want you to
tell him why he doesn't deserve privacy: for wetting and messing his pants and
otherwise acting like a toddler.
No underwear. It
just increases the amount of laundry, since he'd wet it together with his
pants."
"What about
diapers?"
"Use them
once in a while, when you take your son out. Make sure the diaper is visible.
Most moms don't allow their kids to wear anything over it, though it's as
embarrassing covered with tights. In any case, try not to diaper him often.
Remember, it's EC and potty training.
Any bottoms come
off completely when you sit him on the potty. And he stays butt-naked until he
does a thorough job filling it. How thorough is for you to decide. You may
scold him for not peeing or pooping enough and leave him without pants. Unless
you specifically want him to wet or mess his tights.
"They are
not really tights. More like footed yoga pants. So cute. "
"Yet
absorbent enough to contain an accident."
"Are they?
Like diapers?"
"Pretty
much. Except for letting everyone see, if the boy wet or messed himself."
"Whose idea
was it?"
"Thank
Chairman Arianna. Thick boy tights are quite common in her home country:
Ukraine. The whole Eastern Bloc actually. They are also very popular in
Germany. Tights are as much of a symbol of toddlerhood over there, as diapers.
And work much better than the Chinese take on EC clothing: split pants."
"The ones
with a hole cut out around the crotch and butt? They look so funny."
"Yeah, but
why not just leave the kid bottomless if you want to admire his naked butt? Why
to cover it with any pants, if you still need to deal with puddles on the
floor?"
"You are
right. Should be either absorbent pants that contain the mess or no pants at
all. Besides, they are so stretchy and tight, it's like wearing nothing."
"That's the
idea."
"Why only in
Europe? Little boys look absolutely adorable in them."
"Well, you
know, the whole homophobia thing... Though we don't want to make that specific
statement. No pink or purple tights. I mean, no one's going to stop you. It's
your son. But most moms stick with boys colors: blue, green, or yellow. The
white ones... are more of a dressy kind: for special occasions."
"To make the
boy wet or mess them during some kids party? Would be so funny."
"The most
important part is subtlety. He should never suspect he's treated unfairly and
constantly being belittled. With no explicit insults or punishments like severe
spanking there is nothing he can complain about.
The tickling? You
just happen to clean and lubricate the most ticklish spots between his legs. Or
gently stimulate him do his potty business, so he won't wet or poop his pants.
Cold wiping? To
teach him a lesson not to wet and mess himself.
Some moms get
very creative with their punishments: marching their sons around town after
they wet themselves, making them ride a small toddler tricycle in messy pants,
massaging the butt to mash the load inside. I've even heard of one mom using a
vibrating massager for that. Have fun, but don't overindulge, so he won't get
suspicious.
A boy should
remember one thing. Adults always help, whether it is pleasant or not. Because
they, I mean the women, know what's better for him. That's the mindset we want
to reinforce - unconscious submission to female wisdom and superiority. He's a
pathetic little boy who'll always need to be cared for by a strong woman."
Dr.Larsen got up
from her desk.
"Can't wait
to see Jimmy after the correction," Laura smiled, getting up from her
chair as well.
Two women shook
hands and Laura left, heading to the nearest kid's superstore. Decorating
Jimmy's bedroom... uhm, "nursery" would be so much fun. She decided
to buy an additional changing table for the living room: to change her son in
front of the guests, enjoying his red face.
4. Nurse Amy
Three hours later
Jimmy woke up in a crib-style hospital bed. He felt dizzy and completely
disoriented. It took him a few minutes to realize where he was. He's never been
hospitalized before, so he didn't know what a pediatric hospital should look
like. Most are similar to adult ones - with one or two-person rooms. Plus the
privacy curtains around the bed. Just like the unusual pediatric office he went
to earlier, the hospital Jimmy was in, had little in common with mainland ones.
It didn't have rooms or even wards.
Instead one half
of the floor was made a "unit": a large hall with two rows of
crib-style pediatric beds. It was essentially a hallway, intentionally designed
to have non-stop traffic of doctors, nurses, and little patient moms. The beds
stood perpendicular to that wide walking area in the middle. Not only they
didn't have curtains, the patients weren't given any blankets. No need for
those in a tropical climate anyway.
The unit Jimmy
was at: 2B (second floor, East wing) was ran by the head nurse Amy Wilson. Only
25 years old she was a distinguished member of the Worldwide National Feminist
Party, awarded a Platinum Venus medal for her research in young male
sensitivity and special punishment techniques. That medal, like other WNFP
regalia, looked more like an expensive piece of jewelry - a femininity symbol
necklace with a tiny Venus rock embedded in it - courtesy of Arianna Orlov's
space mining operation. The necklace was always on Amy's neck, reminding others
of her untouchable status. Shaking hands with the WNFP's Chairman Arianna
during the awards resulted in an unheard of promotion for a young pediatric
nurse, making her the head of a hospital unit overnight.
Nurse Amy's
cruelty was known well beyond the Central Children's Hospital walls. The whole
island talked about her. Sending a boy to the "Nurse Amy hospital"
became one of the most effective threats used by big sisters, baby sitters, and
even moms.
Those, who've
never seen Amy, pictured her as a tall leather-clad gothic queen. She was the
exact opposite looks- and personality-wise: a petite 25 year old woman with a
perky, almost teen figure and a matching face, that made her look like a high
school girl. Whether the rumors of 50-something Chairman Arianna relationship
with a 25-year younger Amy were true or not, Amy was the WNFP's standard of
female perfection. The slightly round freckled "baby face" with big
greenish eyes, cute upturned nose and sensual lips - framed by dark blond hair.
The high young voice and and impossibly sweet smile completed the picture.
Amy was raised on
the Arianna island since 12, and couldn't imagine living anywhere else. She was
the happiest person on the island. She loved her job. The smile never left her
lips. Whether she was condescendingly addressing her embarrassed naked
patients, trying to cover their boy bits, or she expertly handled boy's most
vulnerable tiny appendages, making the poor kid gasp for air and beg for mercy,
Amy always did it with a smile.
"That's the
new kid? What a cutie!" Jimmy noticed two young nurses stopped by his
bed."
"He's just
woken up after the anesthesia. Probably doesn't know where he is. How are you
feeling, sweetie?"
Jimmy kept
staring at the nurse, mesmerized by her beauty. Like most eight year old boys,
he knew nothing about sex. Or paid attention to boobs, butt, and other adult
female features. He only looked at girls faces.
"How are you
doing, little one?" another nurse asked. "Do you feel pain
anywhere?"
Jimmy turned her
attention to her, struggling to decide who was cuter. It was so humiliating and
unfair - being seen by pretty nurses in such condition: lying in an oversized infant
crib in a ridiculous attire: babyish t-short and a matching diaper. Which... he
felt his face getting red... was already wet. It was only the matter of time
before the pretty nurses discover it, since he didn't have any sheet or blanket
to cover his shame.
"Any
tingling in your lower back?"
The boy shook his
head. Why she was so worried about his back? How long he's been out? They must
have already performed the procedure. What did they do to him? Removed
something from his body? Or inserted? Jimmy didn't know much about surgeries at
the age of eight, but being a smart and curious kid, he figured out, that any
surgical procedure would leave a scar. One of Jimmy's school friends bragged
about his - from having his appendix removed.
Jimmy's body was
intact. He already inspected every inch of it - upon realizing where he was. He
was too shy and too frightened by anyone in the nurse uniform, to ask
questions. Maybe they decided not to do anything to him. Who knows.
"When he was
administered M30?" the first nurse reached into her pocket, took out a
small tablet, and scanned the bar code on Jimmy's bed rail. "Only an hour
ago? Wow! I've never seen the spinal correction work so fast."
"Judging by
his diaper condition?" the other nurse felt the front of Jimmy's diaper,
making him blush a deeper shade of red. "Already filled it like a
six-months old. I suspect, not just with pee."
The nurse smiled
slyly and before Jimmy could do anything, casually lifted his legs and felt his
diapered bottom.
"That's some
load," she said mashing the yucky poop inside Jimmy's diaper.
Feeling the soft
poo spread all over his butt and crotch Jimmy pouted and started to sob - that
unpleasant and embarrassing it was. Out of all people it had to be these two
pretty nurses discovering his pathetic state.
"Aww, poor
baby! Did you go poo-poo in your diapie?" the other nurse produced a green
pacifier, immediately sticking it in Jimmy's mouth.
Jimmy bit the
pacifier, deciding to suck on it, so he wouldn't need to have an embarrassing
conversation with those nurses. One kept massaging his dirty bottom, pushing
the poop deep into his butt. The sliding mess tickled his balls so badly, he
shivered and involuntarily let out a hot stream of pee.
"Did you
just pee?" the nurse put her hand on the front of his diaper.
Jimmy wanted to
disappear. The experienced pediatric nurse seemed to notice everything. She
winked at her colleague and continued her tickling massage of boy's balls
through his messy diaper, making him pee again.
"Look at him
wetting."
"Yeah, I can
see it from here. Guess, the spinal correction is working."
Jimmy flinched,
feeling the nurse's finger probe his poop hole, as much as the diaper allowed
her. What was the point of such unpleasant ministrations? Was she teaching him
some kind of lesson?
"You sure
love wetting and messing yourself," she said with a condescending smile.
It wasn't
personal. The hospital nurses subjected every little patient to the same
humiliating "massage" upon waking up from the general anesthesia.
They simply enjoyed embarrassing helpless boys in their care. Especially cute
shy ones like Jimmy.
"Wanna
change him so badly. See how sensitive he is."
"Me too...
Need to wait until Amy sees him. Speaking of the devil..."
"What's
going on, girls?" Jimmy looked at the unbelievably pretty young woman
approaching his bed. She was surrounded by several 17-18 year old girls in
nurse uniform.
"Checking
his diaper. He seems to have responded exceptionally well to the spinal
correction."
"No kidding!
Thank you, sweetie. I'll take it from here. Could the two of you check if
anyone else needs a diaper change?"
"Yes,
ma'am."
The two nurses
quickly walked away.
"I dare you
to find a cuter boy among our today's patients." Amy told her girls.
"He is
indeed an angel."
"So
adorable."
"Angels like
that are primarily my responsibility," Amy added. "I'll be using him
today to teach you the essential pediatric care techniques."
"So we get
to try them on him?"
"Of course.
You wouldn't wish for a cuter patient to try different things."
She removed the
pacifier from Jimmy's mouth.
"Let's start
with the proper introduction. What's you name, sweetie?"
"J-jimmy,"
managed to say the boy, staring at the nurse.
By now he
realized that the pretty young women was "the" Amy everyone was
talking about. She didn't look mean at all. Just blindingly beautiful. Her eyes
were impossible to break contact with.
Amy was used to
little patient's stares and their pathetic elementary school crushes.
"Beauty is your main weapon" Chairman Arianna told her, hanging the
Venus medal on her neck. "Then your skilled fingers".
Amy knew every
patient's name. She just wanted to gauge Jimmy's shyness.
"Hello,
little Jimmy," she smiled sweetly. "Looks like you already learned how
to properly use a diaper. I am Miss Amy, the head nurse of Unit 2B. And these
are our trainees. I am teaching them how to properly care for little boys like
you. Please introduce yourself to the patient, girls."
"Amelie."
"Emma."
"Becky."
"Tess."
"Holly."
"Cathy."
"Now, after
we got properly acquainted, let's hear from our patient. Are you feeling
better, little one?"
"I'm...
feeling fine," the dazzled boy mumbled, staring into her huge green eyes.
"The pain's
gone? Or the allergic reaction that brought you here?"
"What
reaction?" Jimmy hadn't a slightest idea what she was talking about.
"Let's look
at your chart," Amy produced a small tablet and scanned Jimmy's bed bar
code. "Now I am confused. No allergies. No pain. Was it some other discomfort?
Nausea? Constipation? Which seems to be completely cured." She pointed at
Jimmy's diaper, making the girls giggle.
Jimmy felt his
face getting red. Why she kept bringing up that embarrassing topic?
"Oh, yeah.
Found it," Amy said with a condescending smirk, looking into her tablet.
"You wouldn't believe me, girls. Such a big boy... Shame, shame... Do you
know, why you are in a hospital, Jimmy?"
"For...
tests?"
"Really?
That's what your mommy told you? OK, let's start with a simpler question. Can
you tell me why are you wearing a diaper at the age of eight? Pretty obvious
why you need them, huh?"
"I... I
don't..." Jimmy struggled to explain, blushing even more. He wasn't just
wearing a diaper. He's used it for its intended purpose.
"You don't
what? Need diapers? What makes you say that?"
"I'm... too
big for them."
"How would
you explain your soaked and messy diaper then?"
"Aww! Aren't
little boys even cuter, when they blush?" one of the trainee girls
giggled.
"It was...
and accident," Jimmy struggled to preserve the last bits of dignity.
"How many of
those accidents you have daily?"
Jimmy knew she
wouldn't believe him. No one here would. Worst of all, he wasn't 100% sure if
he wet and mess himself by accident. The previous nurses mentioned a "spinal
correction", when they talked about his diaper. Was that "the"
procedure? To make him dependent on diapers like a little baby? It didn't make
any sense. Like the rest of this island. No sense at all. Just extreme
embarrassment.
"I asked you
a question, little one!" Amy raised her sweet young voice.
"I
dunno."
"Guess you
don't have a potty chart at home? To record how you do pee-pees and poo-poos.
And reward you with stars when you use the potty. Have you seen a chart like
that? No? Your mommy hasn't started potty training you yet, huh?"
Jimmy bit his
lip. It was pointless arguing with her. And what could he possibly say with a
yucky mess in his diaper?
"We'll start
a potty chart for you. What should I put there? Can you tell us what you did?
Yes, in your diaper. Come on, everyone is dying to know."
The trainee girls
giggled.
"Well, it
appears to be a big and stinky... secret, why you need a diaper change,"
she continued. "You need it, don't you?"
Jimmy froze,
unable to answer. He wished the Earth would open and swallow him.
"Hey!"
Amy snapped her fingers in front of Jimmy's red face. "Do you need a
diaper change or not?"
"I...
do," Jimmy mumbled with a nod.
"That's a
start. Now tell us why. We have a few rules here. No nurse will change your
diaper, until you tell her, what you did in it, apologize, and properly ask for
a diaper change."
Jimmy frowned,
holding back tears. It was so unfair. Why she was going out of her way to
humiliate him?
"It's up to
you." Amy shrugged her shoulders. "I don't care if you spend the
whole day in this yucky diaper. It's completely soaked and will get very cold
and uncomfortable really soon..."
She softened her
tone, smiling at him.
"I wanna
help you, honey. Admitting that you peed and pooped yourself is the first step
towards becoming a big boy... No? Not gonna tell us? I am the one signing your
release and I can promise you, that you'll remain here until you learn to
behave like a boy your age."
The frightened
boy struggled to understand "signing the release", so she put it in
simple terms.
"Honey, I
decide when you leave the hospital. This..." she pointed at his diaper.
"...is a serious condition. It brought you here: to the special unit for
children, who wet the bed and otherwise struggle with potty training. I can't
let your mommy take you home until you show some progress. Which starts with
honesty. Are you ready to tell me what you did in your diaper?"
Jimmy gave the
nurse a suspicious look. Was she bluffing? Didn't doctors make such decisions?
He knew better, than questioning her authority. And a lot of things were
different on this damn island. What if she could keep him in the hospital
forever? Jimmy started to sob, feeling completely defeated.
"Don't cry,
sweetie," Amy came to his bed and stroked his hair. "Let's start
over. What did you do in your diaper?"
"I..."
Jimmy took a deep breath, waiting for the hot wave of shame to sweep over his
face, and managed to continue... "Peed."
"A
lot!" one of the trainee girls giggled.
"Eight year
olds make much bigger piddles, than infants, don't you think?" another one
smiled.
"It's OK,
sweetie," Amy consoled the boy, enjoying his embarrassment. "Isn't it
every little boy's natural reaction: to tinkle in the fresh dry diaper? You
couldn't resist, could you?"
Jimmy hated the
conversation with every fiber of his being, but that was his only way out of
the evil hospital.
"Boys being
boys..." Amy sighed, "Put one in a diaper, and it won't stay dry for
long... So you just made pee-pees in your diapie, honey? Or you want to tell us
more?"
She spread
Jimmy's legs and pressed his dirty diaper to his crotch, producing a loud
squelching sound of mashed poop. The unpleasant sensation made Jimmy squirm.
"Eew!"
the girls behind the nurse giggled in mock disgust.
"There is
definitely more to your story, dear," Amy smiled. "Go on. Looks like
thoroughly soaking your diaper felt so good, you decided to poop in it too,
didn't you? Or someone else made that mess?"
The trainee girls
broke out laughing.
"Why to waste
a good diaper just on pee? Amy chuckled, watching the boy's red face.
"Look at me when I am talking to you! We haven't gotten very far. Do you
want your mommy to take you home tomorrow?"
Jimmy nodded.
"Then answer
my questions. Did you make poopies in your diaper?"
"Yes,"
the boy whispered.
"Yes,
what?"
"I...
pooped." Jimmy managed to say.
"No,
dear," the nurse corrected him. "Big boys poop. In the potty. While
little ones, who wear diapers, make cute little poopies in them. And I want to
hear it from you. What did you do in your baby diaper? You made pee-pees
and..."
"Poopies,"
Jimmy said with a crimson face.
"Say it
loud, so everyone can hear. I made poopies in my baby diaper."
Jimmy had no
choice, but to repeat the humiliating phrase for the nurse and her girls.
"Good! Now
tell us why you did it."
"I
dunno."
"Yes, you
do! You like pooping yourself, don't you? How many times a day you have messy
accidents? Do you have them at home? What about school? Who changes your
diapers there? The school nurse? Or some teacher's assistant. Am I right? Look
at him, girls. The color of his face says it all."
Amy knew no
mercy.
"This brings
us, little one, to the topic, that started our conversation," she
continued. "Do you understand, why you are in this hospital? What happened
at the routine medical checkup this morning?"
Jimmy's cheeks
burned with shame. She knew everything.
"Tell us.
What you rewarded the nurse with for taking your temperature?"
"It... was
an accident," Jimmy mumbled, unable to make an eye contact with the nurse.
"Too many
accidents, don't you think? I already spoke to Dr.Larsen. She told me
everything. That wasn't your only..." she paused with a scornful smile.
"...accident during that physical, was it? Wanna tell us how you tried to
pee on the doctor, when she was examining your boy parts?"
Jimmy thought his
face would catch fire, that hot it was.
"One year
olds have accidents. But when a boy your age pees and poops, lying legs-up on
the changing table, that's a different story. And I wanna hear it from you. If
we don't in the next 30 seconds, I am going to get up and leave. Some nurse
will change you diaper eventually. Say, tomorrow morning. But your mommy won't
take you home. Neither tomorrow, nor the next day. Nor the next week. Is that
what you want? Seems like you really took a liking to wetting and messing
yourself. We don't want your mom to deal with it. This facility is much better
suited for 24-hour infant care."
Jimmy had no
choice, but to tell the mean nurse and her giggling trainees everything that
happened during his embarrassing checkup.
"Congratulations,
little one!" Amy smiled sarcastically. "Your infantile behavior
convinced Dr.Larsen, that you needed additional evaluation for a preteen
incontinence syndrome. Or in simpler terms potty-training failure. Turns out,
she was absolutely right. Look at your diaper! I feel for your mom. She must
have given up on your potty training. Not to worry. We are going to guide you
on the right path - to dry pants. Your journey to the potty begins now. By
properly asking for a diaper change. Repeat after me..."
The nurse spent
several minutes making Jimmy repeat embarrassing confessions, apologize for his
diaper condition, and ask her to change it. The boy's face changed several
shades of red by the time he was finished.
"Would you
mind if one of the girls changes you?" Amy asked him. "Under my
supervision of course. They need to learn how to change a boy's diaper."
The question
didn't sound like much of a choice. Having a giggling 17 year old girl see your
boy parts, let alone touch them, was extremely embarrassing, but all of them
were going to watch the diaper change anyway. And it also meant the meanest
nurse in the Universe won't be touching him. Who knew what she'd do.
"Who'd do
the honors?" Amy looked at her trainees. "Any volunteers?"
"I can
change him," one of the girls said casually, doing her best to hide the
excitement.
"I wanna
change him too!" another one added.
"Can I
change him?" the third girl asked.
"Come
on," the fourth one sighed. "Who doesn't want to change such a little
cutie?"
"Cathy was
first," Amy announced her decision. "Come here, kitten."
"So
unfair!" the second girl gave Cathy an angry look.
"Y'all will
get your chance today." Amy told the girls, taking Jimmy out of his crib.
The nurse put the
boy on one of the nearby changing tables. Jimmy cringed. The table stood, as
usual, by a large window - for everyone outside to see him naked. Not counting
the people walking up and down the isle between the beds.
"I know all
of you are experienced babysitters," Amy said after the trainee girls
gathered around the changing table. "But let's start with the
fundamentals: how to properly hold a child during a diaper change. It is
especially important with older boys. What's the oldest you babysat,
Cathy?"
"Nine."
"The first
rule changing a boy, is standing a little to the side: out of the "splash
zone". Secondly you need to be able to securely hold the child with just
one hand. There are two ways to do it. You can completely immobilize him by
crossing his ankles and grabbing them with one hand, like this. Bring his legs
up... You don't need to be strong to hold even a ten year old in this position.
Nothing he can do to break loose. And if he resists too much, you can also put
his hands on his ankles: one on top of another, covered by your hand. See, now
I am holding both of his legs and both of his arms? With just one hand."
Amy allowed the
boy to lower his legs.
"The second
hold is more... entertaining: behind his knees. Like this... pushing down with
your forearm. It allows him to kick his legs, but as any of you, who've tried
it, already know, no matter how much little boys kick and squirm, they can't
break your hold. So... how you are gonna hold him, Cathy?"
"Behind the
knees. Wanna see him kick his legs. So funny, when boys his age act like six
month olds during a diaper change."
"Let's see
how you handle him," Amy said.
"Looks like
I have everything I need..." Cathy assessed the diapering supplies on the
table. "Diapers his size, the cream, baby wipes..."
"Let me
check those," Amy said, touching the box of wipes. "Not cold enough.
Becky, would you bring a new box from the fridge please? And put this one in
there to chill."
Amy handed Becky
the box.
"Always use
chilled baby wipes, when changing boys his age. They should not look forward to
being changed after wetting or messing themselves. "Chilled wipes also
make your fingers cold, which increases the boy's discomfort. Let's make sure
he's not going to enjoy his change."
Becky brought a
new box of baby wipes.
"That's what
I'm talking about!" Amy said with a satisfied smile. "Now, let's
remove his diaper, shall we? Put this towel under his bum in case he wets
during the change."
Cathy quickly
unfastened Jimmy's diaper and raised the boy's legs.
"Geezus..."
she winced after opening it.
"I've seen
much dirtier bottoms." Emma shrugged her shoulders, watching Cathy pull
the dirty diaper from under the boy's butt.
"Aww, are we
ticklish?" Cathy smiled, starting to clean Jimmy's bottom with an ice-cold
wipe.
"Look at him
kick his legs!"
"So
cute."
Shivering Jimmy
struggled to endure the cold wiping. He never thought a diaper change could be
so unpleasant. As if humiliating him by displaying his naked butt and boy parts
to everyone wasn't enough for the mean nurse and her trainees.
"Kick your
legs for me!" Cathy smirked. "Here we go! Poor baby... So sensitive.
Let's wipe your little jewels again. Now this tiny pickle. And the tummy..."
"They hate
cold wipes on their tummies," Amelie noted.
"Could
someone give him a pacifier?" Amy asked. "Thank you. Do you always
kick and scream like a six month old during diaper changes, Jimmy?"
Cathy took her
time wiping the boy's tummy and pubic area, enjoying his squirming and kicking.
"Entertaining
us by kicking your legs, huh Jimmy?" she teased the boy after changing the
wipe. "Wanna show us something else little boys do during diaper
changes?"
The girls
giggled.
"Fold the
wipe," Amy instructed her. "Yeah, like that. And use the pointy tip.
I think he needs additional wiping behind his little balls: every boy's
dirtiest spot after they mess themselves."
Cathy winked at
Amy and tickled Jimmy behind his balls, almost instantly making him pee.
"Look at
that!" she laughed. "What boy doesn't love peeing during a diaper
change?"
"So
funny!" Amelie giggled. "Make him do it again."
Cathy touched
Jimmy's shriveled sack with the cold wipe, pretending to clean him. The
shuddering boy immediately rewarded her with a jet of pee.
"Kicking his
legs and peeing," Amy said. "You need to do it on stage, little
one."
"Mom!
Look!" a 14 year old girl walking through the hall, stopped and pointed at
Jimmy. "Did he do it on purpose?"
"Never let
your guard down, when changing a boy," her mom replied.
"Why all
boys pee during diaper changes?" the girl wondered.
"He probably
thought a baby boy's fountain would get him out of cold wiping," Cathy ran
the pointy tip of the wipe across Jimmy's balls, watching several convulsive
spurts burst out of his throbbing willy, "No, sweetie. Everyone here is
used to that. Pee all you want, but your diaper change is not going to
stop."
Jimmy blushed
deeper seeing another mom with a teenage girl stop by his table. The diaper
change was indeed turning into a stage performance.
"Take a
q-tip and thoroughly clean his poop hole," Amy instructed Cathy.
"Yes, with soap."
"It's so
sensitive too," Cathy noticed, running the q-tip over the boy's puckered
hole. "Look at him squirm and shake. Oopsy!" She inserted the cotton
tip inside and twisted it.
Jimmy felt the
sharp tingling, followed by a severe cramp.
"Oh my gosh,
I think he's gonna..." Cathy realized, quickly withdrawing the q-tip.
"Poop?"
one of the 14 year olds giggled, watching Jimmy produce a load under his butt.
"Showed us
everything. Didn't you, Jimmy?" Cathy said with a scornful smile. "Is
this diaper change ever gonna end? I need to clean your bum again."
She covered her
index finger with a wet wipe and forced it into Jimmy's butt, making the boy
nearly jump off the table.
"Good!"
Amy nodded. "Change the wipe and do it again. Deeper. Now twist you
finger. Left... And right. That'll teach him a lesson. OK, that's enough.
Unless you want him to poop more. So what comes next, kitty?"
"Applying
the diaper rash cream?" Cathy picked up a blue tube.
"Right.
Start with the butt," Amy coached the girl. "Up and down his crack
with one finger. Make sure it gets inside too. Good! Now his scrotal
sack."
Shuddering at the
touch of the cold fingers to his sensitive balls, Jimmy convulsively squirted a
stream of pee.
"Hey!"
Cathy raised her voice. "Will you ever stop peeing? Now I need to start
over."
"So cute
when boys do it," one of the 14 year old girls giggled.
"But we don't
want it to happen again," Amy said. "Could you make sure he
completely emptied his bladder?"
"Just tickle
him?" Cathy asked.
"Yeah. Until
he pees everything out.
"OK.
Coochie-coochie-coo..." Cathy ran her fingers over Jimmy's pink sack.
"Look at that fountain!"
Jimmy felt like
he was about to faint. He's never been so ticklish before. And this girl seemed
to know all his vulnerable spots. But worst of all he had to listen to the
giggling and comments from the "audience".
"All
done?" Cathy asked the boy.
"Keep
tickling him," Amy insisted. "Even if nothing is coming out. No one
has ever died of tickle. Gather around, girls. See, how he strains his little
twig?"
"Looks like
he's trying to pee, but his bladder is empty."
"Exactly.
Boys need this kind of stimulation at least twice a day. The dry spasms make
the bladder sensitive and keep the tickle reflex sharp... Did I tell you to
stop, Cathy? Keep tickling him. And you, little one... Have you enjoyed
spurting baby boy fountains today? Promise not to pee when Cathy starts putting
cream on your boy parts again?"
Jimmy nodded,
desperately trying to escape Cathy's cold fingers.
"I can't
hear you!" Amy raised her voice. "Say "I promise to be a good
boy and keep still, while Ms.Cathy is wiping my little twig and
berries"..."
The quivering boy
had to repeat her words. Jimmy would promise anything to stop the tickle
torture.
"And you are
going to tell her if you need to pee. Understood? You can stop now, Cathy. Go
back to applying the cream."
Cathy made the
boy endure a few more agonizing minutes, while she put the diaper rash cream on
the most ticklish areas between his legs. Jimmy couldn't control the
excruciating urge to pee, but nothing came out. He cried, squirmed, and tried
to break free, feeling completely helpless. The girl easily held him down with
just one hand.
"Let's put a
fresh diaper on you before you made another mess," Cathy said finally.
"He's spent
too long in a wet diaper," Amy told the girl. "Let's keep him
butt-naked for a couple of hours to air the skin."
"Get him
into his bed then?"
"Please."
Cathy picked
Jimmy up and carried him to his crib. Amy with the girls followed.
"Sweetie, I
know that you are used to diapers," the nurse told the embarrassed boy,
spreading his legs. "But let's try to depend on them less, OK? Air is good
for your sore bottom."
"Can I have
a blanket?" Jimmy asked sheepishly. "I'm... cold."
"Don't lie
to me. The thermostat is set at 25C. It's like being at the beach... Why don't
you imagine lying on one of our beautiful beaches?"
"I want a
blanket!" Jimmy insisted on the verge of crying.
"No
blankets!" Amy told him firmly. "There are no waterproof ones, you
know. Like this absorbent pad under your bum. Nor we can monitor what's going
on under blankets. You know what I am talking about. Little boys playing with
their willies."
The girls
giggled.
"Now, the
only way to prevent it is to restrain their arms."
Amy raised both
of Jimmy's arms above his head and secured his wrists to the crib bars with
special velcro straps.
"It will
also make him stay on his back." she explained to her girls. "So he
won't rub his little pickle against the mattress."
Jimmy didn't know
what she was talking about, though it was obvious she was making fun of him.
Could anyone humiliate him more at this point? To be made to lie on your back
naked from the waist down without a blanket, with every passer by gazing at
your willy? It couldn't possibly get any worse, but Amy produced another pair
of velcro straps.
"And to make
sure his bum gets enough air, let's put his legs in the proper position,"
she told the girls.
She raised and
spread Jimmy's legs, tying them to the crib rails. Jimmy couldn't believe it
was happening to him. He was essentially put in a relaxed diapering position
with his butt hole and boy package on full display.
"See?"
Amy pointed at Jimmy's crotch. "If... I mean when he pees again, it is
going to land on the pad under his bum instead of his legs."
"Great
position," Cathy agreed.
"We
alternate diaper time with butt airing," Amy explained to the girls.
"His mom will need to do the same at home. No blankets there either. One
night in a diaper, typically tightly swaddled. Followed by two nights like
this: spread like a frog. We are blessed with such a great climate. So little
kids don't need pajamas. Or blankets."
The nurse turned
back to Jimmy.
"You need to
promise me something, sweetie-pie. Every time you want to go pee-pee or
poo-poo, you are to call the nurse... Any nurse. If it's just number one, she'll
bring a potty and place it under your boy's fountain. If it's number two,
she'll put a disposable diaper under your bum, so you can poop in it. Do we
have a deal?"
Jimmy nodded.
"Good!"
Amy smiled. "Because if any of our nurses discovers that you peed or
pooped on the pad without telling anyone, she'll have to make sure you expel
everything you have inside you. You already know how we do it. Believe me, the
pee fountains you just showed us on the changing table, are nothing compared to
a skilled nurse draining your bladder by tickling sensitive spots between your
legs.
A good pediatric
nurse, and I only accept the best in my unit, can turn you inside out. You
didn't enjoy Cathy applying the moisturizing cream on your precious marbles,
did you? Tickled you pretty bad, huh? You are going to wish for her little
fingers working your balls instead of the nurse's. And that, sweetheart, is
just the beginning. Because you'll still be cleaned with very cold baby wipes,
followed by thorough creaming, which'd probably result in more pee fountains
for a ticklish boy like you. So it's in your best interests to call the nurse
at the first sign of a pee or poo tingle."
"Don't you
have like special buttons to call the nurse?" Amelie wondered.
"Not in
infant and toddler units, dear. They'd think it's a toy. Besides, it's better
to get them used to loudly asking adults for a potty."
"Doubt a shy
boy like him would call anyone," Tess shrug her shoulders. "He'll try
to hold it."
"Corrected
boys can't for longer than 30 seconds," Amy explained. "Plus we make
them drink plenty of fluids: milk, juice, water. He'll be wetting every 15-20
minutes. Number two is even easier: generous feedings of fiber-rich oatmeal
laced with mild laxative and stool softener. In any case, if some stubborn kid
manages to resist the urination and defecation urges, we have a strict schedule
for both. Ready or not, his bladder and bowels will be thoroughly drained by
the scrotal and anal stimulations."
Amy motioned the
trainee girls to follow her. The group slowly walked between the two rows of
metal cribs, admiring butt-naked boys made to lie on their backs with the
raised and spread legs. Amy briefly described every patient, stopping to watch
how the red-faced kid peed and pooped right in front of them. Followed by the
thorough wiping and creaming of his ticklish boy bits, which repeatedly caused
him to lose control and pee again.
Diapered boys
were just as entertaining: watching them struggle with the urge, then give up
and fill the diaper. All diapered patients over the age of four were required
to call the nurse and loudly announce what they did every time they wet or
messed them. After that the boy had to ask for a diaper change using the same
babyish terms.
It was up to the
nurse to change him immediately or make him lie in a wet and messy diaper. Even
forced to endure half an hour or more in a cold wet diaper, no boy looked
forward to being laid on the changing table and tickled with cold wipes and
fingers, causing involuntary peeing and sometimes pooping.
The elaborate
torment Amy and her nurses subjected their little patients to had a profound
effect on the trainee girls. By the time the group was approaching the end of
the hall, all of them were visibly aroused: wet and desperate to rub their
aching slits to relieve the pressure building over the last two hours. The
youngest one: little Becky, a cute 16 year old "ginger" almost lost
it watching Amy punish one of the boys for failing to report wetting his
diaper.
Hospital
punishments varied depending on each nurse personal preferences. Amy favored
anal stimulators: flexible sticks with four large balls, generously lubricated
with the special stinging soap. A simple, but cruel device quickly caused the
excruciating defecation urge. Amy took her time, working the balls in and out
of the poor kid's poop hole. All while smiling, making jokes, and pointing out
little tricks to increase the boy's discomfort.
Amy immensely
enjoyed his screaming, muted by a pacifier gag. She was aroused by the boy's
trembling, squirming, kicking, and futile attempts to free himself from her
expert hold. While she calmly explained, how to effortlessly keep even an older
kid on his back in the helpless diapering position: with his vulnerable bum
hole and boy parts completely exposed to her fingers and tools.
When she finally
allowed the boy's bottom to erupt, followed by more condescending comments, she
typically wiped his butt and proceeded with the merciless tickling of the boy's
shriveled sack: teaching her girls the most effective tickling techniques: with
fingers, feathers, and several kinds of brushes: the art of driving the boy
insane with unbearable tickle, while keeping him from fainting.
"And that's
how you properly "drain" a little boy", she summarized with a
smile, securing a shaking nine year old in his crib. "Questions?"
Amy spread the
boy's legs further by adjusting the ankle straps, and admired his wide open
butt. She couldn't resist the temptation to poke his puckered hole and caress
the pink sack one last time. The boy shuddered and squirted several drops of
pee out of his willy, still pointed straight up - the result of prolonged anal
stimulation.
"See how
sensitive he's become?" Amy told her girls. "Peed from a single touch
to his little marbles. Tickling makes boys more ticklish. But most importantly,
several minutes of powerful bladder and bowel spasms weaken both
sphincters..."
"The valves
that hold the pee and poop," Tess told Becky, seeing her confusion.
"Do you remember anything from the school anatomy course?"
"Yes, those
valves," Amy nodded. "Non-stop spasms weaken them to the point of
turning the boy into a six months old. He won't be able to hold his urine or
stool for longer than five seconds now."
"Isn't it
the main goal of the spinal correction?"
"Kind of.
The correction establishes the base sensitivity threshold. Anything more than
that is achieved by forcing the boy to strain his bladder and bowel muscles.
Compared to the permanent correction of both urges, the residual effect of the
thorough "draining" only lasts a few hours. It's really up to you, as
the boy's caretaker, to keep him in such infant's state. Some moms do. All
pediatrician offices offer special body waste draining "massages".
Similar to what I just showed you. Only three times longer and using mechanical
and electric stimulators in addition to our simple tools.
By the way, I am
certified to administer such treatment too. I may show you this week. I'll ask
one of the doctors to prescribe it to a couple of our patients. We have a
special soundproof room here with all the equipment."
"Soundproof?"
"Yeah. You
have no idea how loud the screaming gets. Even after you gag the little one
with a pacifier. They squeal like pigs."
"That
bad..." sighed Emma.
"For them?
Definitely," Amy chuckled. "But you... are sure gonna enjoy watching
an older boy professionally drained of the body waste. It's typically
prescribed to elementary school age kids. Toddlers never exhibit any
stubbornness holding their pee or poop. If some do, it's easy to correct
without electric stimulation.
Older boys though
are very shy to use the potty when someone's watching. To help them with that,
their bladder and bowel control needs to be adjusted once in a while. Pediatric
nurses time the child's reflexes during regular checkups, when they make him
pee in the cup for the urine sample. If the boy resists the tickling
stimulation and holds his pee longer, than his age norm, e.g. five seconds for
an eight year old, He is prescribed the draining therapy. Typically three times
a week for a month or two. The same if he doesn't immediately defecate after
the rectal temperature taking. You've seen the rectal thermometers we
use."
"If one
doesn't poop after that, he's definitely constipated!" Cathy laughed.
"What if he
pees before the nurse even touches his ticklish balls?" Amelie asked.
"I was
wondering about that too," Emma said. "Every boy would start
obediently peeing in the cup after learning how unpleasant that draining
therapy is. How would you accurately gauge his reaction to tickle, if he
doesn't resist?"
"There are
many tricks to make a boy resist," Amy explained. "Using his natural
shyness. E.g. placing the changing table he is examined on by the window. All
pediatric offices on the island are on the first floor. And as all of you have
probably noticed, there are no private exam rooms. Just several changing tables
to examine the patients on. With other boys' moms and older sisters watching.
Second, the nurses are rotated. The office admin makes sure to assign the boy a
new nurse every time his mom schedules a checkup, which all boys under the age
of 11 are required to take every two weeks."
"I
see," Cathy said. "He'd be embarrassed more, since the new nurse
hasn't seen him naked."
"Right. As a
future pediatric nurse, each of you needs to learn to keep the boy in the
constant state of shame. I am sure, you practiced it when you babysat older
boys. Believe me, it's not that hard to make peeing in the cup extremely
embarrassing for the boy, so most will resist as much, as they can.
The few
"good boys", who pee instantly upon being shown the cup... Every
nurse hates that. So, first she'd subject him to a prolonged tickling anyway.
And second, the doctor will always prescribe the draining therapy in that case.
There are all
kinds of other reasons it's prescribed. Daycares have their own standards. They
typically insist on increasing school age boys sensitivity to the maximum.
Makes it easier for them to control their kids potty business regardless of
age."
"But it also
causes wet and messy accidents more often, doesn't it?"
"They are
used to it. A very convenient way of putting an older boy in his place, if he
complains about being in a daycare with toddlers. Plus they lay everyone on a
changing table every 30 minutes or so."
"To pee in
the legs-up position?"
"Yep. No
potties at daycares. They don't have the patience to sit an older kid on the
potty and wait for him to do his business. Everyone there pees and poop like a
six month old: on his back with the legs up in the air. A lot faster to tickle
a boy to pee, than to stand him before the potty and solicit his tinkle with
gentle talk. Moms love doing it. Not daycare workers. Or hospital nurses.
And not all moms
are patient either. If one complains to the pediatrician about her son being
stubborn, it almost always results in the draining therapy prescription.
Finally, that
unpleasant therapy is very effective to reinforce good behavior and the image
of female superiority. Do you know how much even ten year olds fear
"draining nurses"? Many pee their pants by seeing one when she comes
to the boy's apartment."
"They make
house calls too?"
"Yep. It's
up to the mom, whether to take her son to the pediatric clinic to see the nurse
licensed to provide the draining treatment. Or arrange for house visits."
"So what
happens when the boy pees himself before she starts the session? Not much to
drain, huh?"
"She may
fill his bladder with a catheter. Though draining the kid of his pee and poop is
not really the point. Using intense stimulation to cause the bowel cramps and
bladder contractions is. The nurses task's is to make the boy experience the
extreme urination and defecation urges for 30 minutes. Whether his body has
enough nasty substances to expel is irrelevant.
And believe me, a
boy's bladder is never completely empty. Try it and see for yourself." Amy
pointed at the nine year old she just punished. "Come on. I know, every
one of you is dying to check his sensitivity."
"May
I?" Emma asked.
"Of
course."
The girl reached
behind the boy's pink sack, instantly making him pee.
"Wow! I just
touched him behind his balls."
"A very
convenient position, isn't it?" Amy nodded at the boy tied to the bed
rails. "Everything on display."
"I can touch
him anywhere," Emma giggled. "How about another squirt,
sweetie?"
"Hey!"
Becky said. "I wanna check his peeing reflexes too."
"Have at
it!" Emma smirked. "Hope you don't get any pee on you."
Amy has been
watching little Becky for a while. The girl could barely control her arousal.
"Good thing she's not rubbing herself" Amy thought. She remembered
how it was for her at 16. She orgasmed more than ten times a day babysitting
boys.
Becky approached
the crib and stroked the back of the boy's balls, instantly rewarded by a
stream of pee. She giggled and started tickling the boy again, making him
squirt yellow drops. Amy watched Becky's freckled face, full of tell-tale signs
of the approaching orgasm: rapid breath, pinkish tip of the cute button nose, widened
eyes... There we go... Little Becky "scratched" her groin and let out
a faint sigh.
"Enjoying
helping boys pee a little too much, Becky?" Cathy giggled.
"Who...wouldn't?"
Becky struggled to catch her breath. "Wanna try?"
She let Cathy
take her place.
"Alright,
girls, if you'll excuse me..." Amy said, fighting the unbearable tingling
in her crotch.
What a day. First
all of the little boys in her care: the cutest group of patients ever. Then
this ginger 16 year old, she had a secret crush on since she saw her. No one
would have allowed an eleventh-grader in a pediatric nursing volunteer program,
if Amy didn't pull some strings. And now her big-eyed kitty climaxed right in
front of her and other girls, who sure took notice. Hopefully the boy didn't
suspect anything. They can't see girls like that. All women need to project the
image of strength and superiority.
"We're
basically finished here," Amy told the girls. "You are welcome to
stay and play with him. Try to get him to do number two as well. In any case,
it's almost lunch break. I'll see you in my office. Say, about 13:30? Great
job, everyone! Enjoy caring for my little patients. And you, kitty nose, come
with me."
Amy motioned
Becky to come.
"Anything
wrong, Miss Amy?" Becky asked, visibly shaken.
She already knew
what the feared nurse wanted to talk with her about.
"Nothing,
dear. I am going to the restroom. Want me to show you where it is? I think you
need to visit it too."
Becky blushed.
Amy obviously knew why.
"For
heaven's sake!" Amy chuckled. "It's them..." she pointed at
boys' cribs. "Not you, we want to blush here. Let's go!"
She took Becky's
hand and both walked out of the hall.
"There is
nothing to be ashamed of, sweetie," Amy told the girl. "I know what
you feel. You love caring for little boys: wiping their butts, tickling their
balls to make them pee..." Amy was doing her best to arouse the girl
again, caressing Becky's hand. "Am I right, kitten?"
Amy fondled the
girl's cheek. It was working. She knew just the right combination of words and
touch.
"I love
boys, Miss Amy. Especially older ones."
"Like from
six up?" Amy asked, "accidentally" brushing the girl's ear with
her fingers, then sliding lower, to the girl's neck. "Because older boys
are shy and get embarrassed when you look at them naked?"
"Y-yes. It's
so cute, when they blush."
"I know,
sweetie-pie. All of us love to admire shy naked boys. You wouldn't want to be a
pediatric nurse, if you didn't like seeing them naked so much."
The girl closed
her eyes, allowing Amy to caress her neck.
"But you
need to control yourself around them!"
Becky suddenly
exhaled, staring at Amy with wide open eyes. Years of experience taught Amy to
keep the straight face.
"I saw what
happened when you touched that boy's jewels. It's perfectly natural. Nothing to
be ashamed of. But... No boy can see you like that. Do you understand
why?"
"Yes, Miss
Amy."
"Tell
me!"
"Because I
am a... motherly figure?"
"Right. Be
the authority figure all girls are born to be. Governing mischievous little
boys. They can't know our weaknesses."
"It was...
an accident. I am sorry."
"Accidents
happen, sweetie. Are you at least wearing a pad?"
"Of
course."
"Good! And
for all future "accidents"... Let me show you the perfect place to
have them."
"The
restroom?" Becky wondered, blushing again. "You... do it in there
too?"
"Geez, girl.
Everyone does. Better behind the closed door, than in front of the patient.
Come on. We have a "special restroom" here for girls like you."
She winked at
Becky and opened the door she stood next to. It was an immaculately styled
ladies room.
A nurse washing
her hands welcomed Amy with a wink. A young woman: one of the visiting moms
gave them a nod. Her smile showed, she knew why the two came in.
"Showing my
today's trainees around," Amy said casually. "Alright, let's grab a
couple of fresh pads first. Here we go. And now... which room is free? This
one. Perfect. Go in."
Becky stepped
into what she thought would be a restroom stall. It was: three times more
spacious. It did have a toilet. And a bidet. Won't find these in a regular
bathroom. But the biggest surprise... Becky gasped, when Amy pressed a button,
which quickly rolled up the curtain, exposing a window into a room full of
changing tables with naked little boys on them.
"Our
treatment room," she explained to Becky. "For enemas, bathing, and
other.... fun things.
"They can't
see us, can they?" Becky whispered.
"Nope. Or
hear. But anyone who's been in this... "restroom"... Obviously all of
my nurses have, most of the moms as well... They know, that someone is
watching. Only the boys don't. Come closer. You are free to stay here, as long,
as you want. Well, until 13:30, remember?"
"Oh my gosh,
I didn't know boys can pee that high!" Becky giggled, watching one of the
nurses.
"You have a
lot to learn, kitten. Now, let's change your pad, before you started leaking,
shall we?"
"I... can do
it myself." Becky blushed again.
"Nonsense! I
need to change mine too. Both of us can do it here. Ain't nothing we girls
haven't seen before. Come on, don't be shy."
Amy removed her
pants and put them on a chair.
"Your turn,
little girl."
"I dunno.
I'll go to another... stall."
"Kitten, I
am sure they are all occupied. It's lunch break for the half of our staff. And
if one is free, it'd be really nice to leave it for our patients moms, wouldn't
it?"
Becky's eyes
widened, seeing Amy lowering her panties, revealing the perfect hairless pussy.
The island had an unofficial standard of neatness down there. All arriving
girls and women had their pubic hair permanently removed during their first
complementary visit to one of the luxurious spas.
The girl expected
the nurse to change her pad and pull the panties back up, but Amy casually took
them off.
"What?"
she smiled, watching Becky's reaction, after she removed her nurse scrub top,
standing in front of the girl in just her bra. "Never seen a naked girl
before?"
She unfastened
the bra letting free two perky breasts. "Why she even needs a bra?"
Becky thought. "And why..." she already knew the Head Nurse didn't
bring her here to enjoy masturbating alone. All of the rumors, that Amy loved
younger girls... Or everyone was hitting on her? Who'd resist such beauty? And
who else a girl should love? Men? Eeew!
"Kitty, I
think you came here to see something else," Amy pointed at the window.
"The kind of view best enjoyed naked, don't you think? Get out of the
scrubs. Let your skin breath. It'd be a crime to just change your pad and
leave. So much is happening on the other side. Let's watch together. Just
watch..." she softly whispered into Becky's ear, rubbing her nipples over
the girl's back. "Don't mind me at all. Why don't you pick a table and
describe what's going on for me? How about this one: right in front of you? How
old is the boy lying there? Nine?"
"Yeah, about
nine."
Amy put her
fingers inside Becky's pants making sure to grab the panties as well.
"Don't mind
me. I'm just helping you change your pad. So you don't need to do it yourself,
because you'd miss a lot of action in that room. OK, kitten?"
"OK,"
Amy smiled, feeling her pants and underwear pulled down.
She didn't have
much of a choice, feeling frightened and excited at the same time. She's only
been with a girl once. Fun, but nothing out of this world. Both were equally
inexperienced. But to do it with a feared celebrity like Nurse Amy... Who had
just as many legend about her kinky ways of pleasing girls, as she was infamous
for torturing little boys.
"What a
pretty round bum you have," Amy smiled, caressing Becky's globes.
"Let's get out of these pants. Here we go. Spread your legs a little,
dear. And keep telling me what you see. What the nurse is doing to the
boy?"
"Preparing
him for his bath."
"What makes
you say that? Arms up!" Amy quickly removed Becky's top and without losing
a second unbuttoned the girl's bra. "Off it goes. Oh my! Nice little
titties. Are your nipples always that hard? Only when looking at naked little
boys, right?"
Amy leaned into
the girl's back, pinching and caressing Becky's nipples. The girl let out a
soft groan.
"Now we can
fully enjoy the view, my button nose kitty. A lot better without clothes."
"Y-yes."
"So tell me
what you see. Why the nurse is preparing that boy for his bath?"
"Because she
left him completely naked."
"But where
is the bath?" Amy hugged the girl with her left arm, resting her hand on
Becky's right breast, while sliding the other one between the girl's legs.
"I
d-d-d-d..." Becky quivered, feeling the nurse's finger find her aching slit.
"Oh my gosh... dunno. Maybe she'll bath him in one of those basins."
"Right.
That's how we bath older boys. You wouldn't mind a bath right now yourself,
would you? So wet."
Another nurse
came to the one bent over a naked boy, and whispered something in her ear.
Becky recalled seeing her in the "special restroom" earlier. No, she
wouldn't... The first nurse looked up: right at Becky, and winked.
"You said
they can't see us!"
"Relax. They
can't. But now they know who's watching. She'll make sure you see a lot of
action. If you were tending to that boy, and knew one of your friends is on the
other side, wouldn't you show her something special?"
She was right.
The nurse repositioned the boy on the changing table, making him present his
little package to Amy and Becky.
"Is she
going to raise his legs and tickle him to pee?" Becky wondered.
"She already
did: made him thoroughly pee and poop before his bath. But believe me, no
matter how hard you try, boys always pee in the tub. Well, if you wash them with
your bare hands."
"How else?
With a sponge? One can only wash boy's delicate little things with her
fingers."
"Absolutely
agree. But it also means the moment you start lathering up one's ticklish
little balls, he's going to strain his pickle and spring a fountain. I am not
even talking about washing his little worm with soap. Especially under the
hoodie."
"Is she
going to pull down his... skin? I've never seen it done to a boy before."
"Really?"
"Nope. I've
never baby-sat such a big boy. My oldest was five. Tried to open his willy when
I bathed him, but couldn't. Made him pee though - by rubbing its tip with a
soapy finger."
"Oh, this
one will pee for us too. Michelle is going to make sure of that. She's also
going to make him poop - by cleaning his bum with a soapy finger. You know that
you can always make a boy do that by being a little... thorough?"
Becky giggled, as
Amy was rubbing the little button at the top of her pussy, periodically dipping
the finger inside to get it wet. The girl never felt so good. She completely
relaxed letting Amy set the pace.
"We are in
for a treat. She is going to show us how to use the boy's sensitivity to make
certain things happen."
"What
things?" Becky couldn't continue, as the excruciating orgasm swept over
her.
"Things...
You'll see. Would you let go of my hand now? You almost crushed it with your
thighs."
"Sorry. Did
I scream too loud?"
"Don't worry
about it. Did you feel good? That's all that matters. Relax and enjoy. Here we
go."
Amy started to
masturbate Becky again, a little harder this time. It took the nurse almost
five minutes to bring the girl to the second orgasm, which happened when they
watched the nurse rubbing the exposed nub of the boy's willy. The boy resisted
so much, Michelle had to call another nurse to hold him.
"How about
we switched places, kitten?" Amy whispered into the girl's year.
The girl took a
cue. It was her turn to please her boss.
"In!"
guided her finger Amy. "And the middle finger ri-ight here. You know where
the little girl's button is, don't you? Ohhhhh... of course you do. Don't
stop!"
It took Amy only
a few seconds to come, watching Michelle repeatedly inserting her soapy finger
in the boy's poop hole.
"Did
you..." Becky asked with a surprised look.
"Yes,
kitten. Thank you!" Amy turned around and passionately kissed the girl.
Amy and Becky
quickly dressed and left the "special restroom". Amy felt so relaxed,
she didn't care about tickling and fingering little boys... for another hour or
so. She walked by Jimmy's bed, noting a couple of her nurses tending to him.
She knew her entire staff would be thinking up excuses to have fun with a super
cute eight year old.
Having survived
that "fun" for 24 hours, Jimmy finally saw his mom, ready to take him
home.
"Amy Wilson,"
the nurse greeted Laura by Jimmy's bed. "The Head Nurse of this unit. We
ran a few tests. Everything came out normal. Nothing's wrong with your son
physically. He's just too stubborn to use the potty."
Jimmy knew
better, than to argue with her lies. It was the nurses who made him wear
diapers.
"Look how
wet he is now," Amy sighed. "Soaked his diaper again. He was doing it
non-stop yesterday. Messed himself too. Here's his wetting and bowel movement
chart. We keep track of those things."
Jimmy felt the
hot wave sweep over his face.
"We have a
lot to talk about, honey," his mom told him, acting concerned. "I
though I potty trained you at the age of three. Well, if you prefer
diapers..."
"I wouldn't
diaper him at home. You'd never get him to use the potty. Start with part-time
elimination communication using every opportunity... also known as
"pottytunity"... to make him do his little boy's business. Diaper
changes, baths, taking his temperature, undressing him at the beach... pretty
much every time you remove his pants. Once you establish the urination and
defecation schedule, you can move to the next stage: teaching him to ask for
the potty."
"You are
right. No comfy diapers. Come on, Jimmy. Let's get you changed. Hope you won't
pee your pants on the way home."
Laura looked
around.
"Can I
change him on this table?" she asked the nurse.
"You don't
need to do it. In fact you are not allowed to here. Only the nurses can. And as
for wetting his pants, let's make sure he thoroughly does his little boy's
business before the trip. Both number one and number two."
"Thank
you."
"No problem.
Let me show you a few tricks, that'll make your life easier." Amy picked
up Jimmy and carried him to the closest changing table. "First, always
make sure he empties his bladder when you change him. And if you have time,
induce a bowel movement as well. It's easy to get a boy his age to do his potty
business, if you know the right technique."
Amy unfastened
and opened Jimmy's diaper.
"No poopies?
Good boy! Though you should have had a bowel movement by now. We'll take care
of that shortly." Amy raised Jimmy's legs and pulled the wet diaper off of
his butt. "Let me wipe you first, and then you can make pee-pees and
poopies for your mommy. Can't wait to show her, huh? Aww, aren't little boys
cuter, when they blush? Yes, sweetie, right here, on the changing table. So you
won't wet or mess your pants on your way home."
She took a baby
wipe and quickly ran it over Jimmy's crotch. "Must be cold," Laura
thought, watching her son's uncomfortable squirming. She touched the box of
wipes. It indeed felt like an ice brick. Did they keep it in the fridge?
Laura
experimented with cold wipes when Jimmy was little, keeping the box by the
window. It chilled overnight, especially during the cold months. Jimmy hated
cold diaper changes. A sure way to speed up potty training per one of her
friends advice.
"Do you keep
your wipes in the fridge?" Laura asked cautiously, after Jimmy's shriek
when the nurse started wiping his balls.
"We do. I
suggest you keep them in the fridge too. Boys like him shouldn't be too
comfortable on the changing table. An eight year old should know better than
wetting and messing himself. Even wearing a diaper."
Jimmy squirmed
and kicked, desperately trying to break free. He could barely endure the cold
wiping.
"Goes
without saying, never stand in front of the boy changing him. Especially when
you use cold wipes," the nurse told Laura. "A strained weenie like
this means only one thing..."
The nurse folded
her wipe and used its pointy corner to tickle the boy's pink sack, resulting in
an instant burst of pee out of his throbbing willy. Laura gasped. She had never
seen her son or another boy pee so fiercely.
"I wanted
you to do it after I wiped your boy parts, but it's OK, little one. Couldn't
wait to impress your mom, could you?" Amy told Jimmy with a condescending
smile before turning to his mom. "A mess during a change should be your
cue to make sure he emptied his bladder. Thankfully getting a boy to pee is
extremely easy. Just tickle his little marbles... Here we go! Look at that
fountain! Keep going... Good boy!"
Amy kept stroking
the boy's sack with her cold fingers, making him squirt one spurt of pee after
another.
"The back of
the scrotum is very sensitive," she explained. "You can also run two
fingertips over both testicles. See? The sides are ticklish too. And of course
the spot behind his boy's sack: between the scrotum and the anus.
Coochie-coochie-coo... That was dry tickling. You can also use soap. Let's
thoroughly wash his little jewels. Wanna pee some more for mommy? Yes, that's
what I'm talking about! Good boy!"
"He seems to
pee everything out," Laura noted. She was excited, but also found it
increasingly difficult to watch the nurse expertly torture her shuddering son.
"Boys never
do," Amy chuckled, making Jimmy squirt again. "Always keep
stimulating the urge for a couple of minutes after he seemed to stop peeing.
The dry contractions weaken the bladder, making the child a lot more compliant
when it comes to potty business. It'll be much easier for you to make him pee
in the potty next time."
The nurse stopped
tickling Jimmy, letting him catch his breath.
"Simple,
isn't it?" she told his mom. "Boys his age cannot endure tickle for
longer than five seconds. Just the matter of knowing the right spots. Now,
sweetie, didn't you also want to show your mommy, how little boys make
poopies?"
"Are you
gonna take his temperature?"
"You've
already seen our pediatric thermometers in action. I am gonna show you
something new today. There are other tools to treat little boys' constipation.
Like this one."
She produced a
thin plastic stick with four balls.
"They come
in different sizes. This one looks about right for an eight year old."
"You
sure?" The "right size" seemed awfully large to Laura.
She watched the
nurse cover the plastic stick with a generous amount of liquid soap, curious
how Jimmy takes the ominous device, "innovative" rectal thermometers
paled in comparison with.
"Don't
worry. His cute puckered hole would happily gobble it," the nurse smiled.
"Especially lubricated with soap. This one works best: a special gel, that
irritates the bowels causing strong cramps."
Amy pressed the
stick against Jimmy's butt hole.
"Don't be
afraid to force it in," she continued. "He sure won't enjoy it, but
he can do absolutely nothing in this position to prevent objects entering his
little hole. See?" Amy pushed the first ball into Jimmy's butt, making the
boy flinch. "He can't clench his butt at all lying on his back like this:
with the legs raised to his chest and slightly spread apart.
Resisting the
insertion only makes it more painful. Are you trying to poop already,
sweetheart? Of course you do.
When he acts like
that, you should teach him to take all balls in without a fuss. Let him push
the stimulator out and immediately reinsert it. Here we go. It is the moment of
penetration they hate the most. Are you crying because you wanted to poop for
mommy and I didn't let you? You are gonna do it soon, I promise... Withdraw and
insert it several times, until he learns to keep it in his bum. In... And
out... And again. See? He stopped pushing it out. Good boy!
Now let's push
the second ball in. I know, baby, I know. No one likes it. But it will help you
poop, and your tummy will feel better."
Jimmy's tummy
felt perfectly fine. He couldn't get the nurse's obsession with making him do
his potty business on the changing table. Hopefully his mom was not going to
practice those extremely unpleasant, let alone embarrassing treatments at home.
Or was she? Why
she didn't stop this mean nurse from torturing him? And worse, is closely
listening and even asking questions. It was pointless to argue with nurses
here, as every one of them looked at him, like a mindless toddler. But his
mommy would listen. He wouldn't need to convince her that his tummy is healthy.
Little did he
know, no one, not even his mom, cared about his health, subjecting him to
unpleasant and humiliating treatments solely for the caretaker's amusement.
"There is
another, gentler technique," the nurse continued, having quickly withdrawn
the stick.
Laura smiled,
seeing the first two balls covered with poop. She didn't mind, thinking along
"your own kid's poop never stinks" lines. In fact it didn't smell at
all. She recalled Dr.Larsen mention the special food additives to kill the
smell. Laura wasn't a fecal freak. She was a good mom. Just like Amy was a good
pediatric nurse used to messy diapers. One thing the two women had in common,
was being aroused: not by pee or fecal matter, but the innocent and quite funny
acts of uncontrollable toddler urination and defecation.
"This stick
is also suitable for punishments," Amy winked slyly. "Though you may
consider a special one designed just for that: with a slightly larger balls
covered with bumps. Best used with the special stinging soap."
Laura smiled with
delight. She knew Jimmy would provide plenty of opportunities for creative
punishments with anal sticks and other tools she was anxious to try. A lot more
effective than old-fashioned spanking. She felt the familiar wetness in her
panties. Making Jimmy behave has never looked so sweet.
"I am sure
he's going to be a good boy after he gets acquainted with tools like this
one" Amy smiled sarcastically. "Invaluable for every mom... And, by
the way, his good behavior shouldn't keep you from enjoying certain things,
when you are in the mood to treat his constipation or have other fun..."
Amy winked at
Laura.
"So when
he's been a good boy and you want to be gentle inserting these rather large
balls into his rather small hole," the nurse continued. "You need to
make him relax his anus for you. Which you need both of your hands for. Have
someone hold his legs up. Or secure them with a special strap."
The nurse opened
the table drawer and took out a leather strap.
"Run it
under his back," she showed to Laura. "Now wrap these around his
legs: right under the knee... And tighten. See, how it made him spread his
legs? And if you want to secure his arms as well... See these velcro straps? In
it goes. And the left arm... Let's tighten everything up... All set. Isn't he a
sweetheart? Nicely parted his buns to present his little hole."
Amy took a moment
to admire the naked eight year old boy.
"You can buy
it at any drugstore," she continued. "Comes very handy. He can kick
and squirm a little, but he'll keep everything between his legs open and
accessible to your fingers."
"So that
position makes him relax his bottom?"
"Tickle
does," Amy wiped the boy's hole and ran her index finger over it.
"Did you know, that the anus is very ticklish too? So sensitive. Look at
it pulsing with every touch. Just wait for the right moment, when he opens it.
Here we go!" she effortlessly slid the plastic stick all the way in.
"Nice and easy... There are other ways as well."
Amy withdrew the
stick. The repeated insertions and withdrawals started to take effect on
Jimmy's weakened bowels. Not to mention the stinging soap the stick was
lubricated with. He was unsure how long he'd be able to hold the growing urge
to poop.
"It doesn't
really matter what to tickle," Amy said. "Try his other ticklish
spots. Like these little marbles. Tickle-tickle-tickle... Oops! Decided to
squirt some more from your willy? Don't mind him peeing. Keep tickling him
until his whole body starts to shake. Which means he opened his hole for us
again... And in it goes. The first ball. Now the second. And the third... One
more sweetie. Here we go. Now let's work your poopie hole a little, shall we? Let
him push the stimulator out... Not so fast, sweetheart..."
Amy stopped the
stick.
"Pull the
ball out halfway," she explained to Laura, "And hold it for a moment
to stretch his little hole... Then let him push it out completely. Now the next
one. Nuh-uh! The last ball stays in. Let's just add liquid soap. Here we go.
All in again."
The nurse's
ministrations hurt so bad, Jimmy broke out in tears. It felt like pooping soap
bars over and over.
"So cute
when they kick their legs?" Amy smiled, increasing her pace. "Aww,
poor baby. Let me cheer you up. Coochie-coochie-coo!" she tickled the
boy's sack until a yellow fountain erupted out of his jerking willy. "Feel
better? Let's continue... Pushing the balls in fast and taking them out slow. All,
except for the last one..."
Amy poured more
soap on her torture device.
"Always take
your time," she told Jimmy's mom. "It's really up to you how long to
stimulate him with this stick. I'd say two-four minutes for a boy his age.
Works wonders on stubborn boys' poop holes by stretching them and making the
rectum super-sensitive. So the next time you want him to do number two: in his
potty or like this, in the diapering position, just touch his anus, and he'll
instantly poop."
"Aaah! It
hurts!" Jimmy cried. "Please... take it out. I wanna poo!"
"Hush,
little one!" Amy smiled. "The adults are talking."
"Why don't
you let him poop?" Laura asked, trying to remain calm.
"What makes
you think he will? He didn't tell us anything. Do you wanna make poopies,
honey?"
Jimmy nodded.
"I can't
hear you!"
"Y-yes."
"Yes, what?
Tell your mommy you want to show her how you make poopies. Yes, those exact
words. Dear mommy, let me show you how I make poopies."
Laura hated the
mean nurse as much, as her son did, but she couldn't help admiring her expert
humiliation skills.
"We're
waiting..." Amy reminded Jimmy, working the stick faster. "Mommy...
let me show you..."
"Mommy, let
me show you..." the boy repeated with his face aflame.
"How little
boys make poopies."
Jimmy blushed a
brighter shade of red and repeated the embarrassing words.
"Well, let's
see it then!" the nurse withdrew the stick, instantly making Jimmy poop a
big load onto the diaper cloth under his butt.
"Holy
crap!" Laura gasped.
"Literally!"
Amy giggled. "You think this is it? Let me show you another handy tool.
Now that the ball stick made his anus sensitive, a single touch can make him
poop. How about cleaning his little hole with a toothbrush?"
Amy produced a
toothbrush and ran it over the puckered Jimmy's poop hole.
"Oh my
gosh!" Laura said, watching her son convulsively poop again. "You
were right."
"Let's try
an electric one now," the nurse continued. "These vibrating ones work
best."
She turned on the
toothbrush and touched Jimmy's anal opening with it. The boy's body jolted and
he immediately increased the load under his butt.
"Look at him
kick his legs," the nurse told Laura. "I think I told you already:
boys' anuses are as ticklish, as their balls. By the way you can use this
toothbrush on his scrotum too, you know."
Amy moved the
buzzing toothbrush up, sending convulsions through Jimmy's body.
"Showing off
your peeing skills again?" she teased the shaking boy. "How about we
clean another dirty hole of yours: the one you pee from?"
She expertly
pulled back the boy's foreskin and touched the exposed tip of his willy with
her finger, making Jimmy shudder a let out a burst of pee.
"Always open
his little hood and clean under it, when you can use both of your hands,"
Amy explained to Laura.
Amy poured soap
in her fingers and started to lather up the pointy tip of Jimmy's willy, using
her other hand to keep it open. The boy's shudder turned into seizure-like
convulsions, making the whole table shake.
"I know,
sweetie. Little boys' pee-pees are very sensitive," the nurse smiled,
enjoying Jimmy's suffering. "I am almost done. Could you stop kicking your
legs please? And peeing is not going to get you out of having your little
buddy's head thoroughly washed with soap."
The nurse glanced
at Laura, gauging her reaction. No mom ever questioned her cruel methods. Amy
knew every one of them secretly wanted to test the limits of their sons
endurance too.
"Boys hate
being washed like this," Amy told Laura. "But he needs to learn to
keep still when you change him. So if he gives you any trouble on the changing
table, you can also clean his nub with a toothbrush."
She picked a
different electric toothbrush and ran it over the boy's tiny nub. Laura gasped
in shock watching her son frantically kick his legs and shake the changing
table with his wildly bucking body. His convulsive peeing was no doubt painful
too. "Who hires such sadists?" she thought. She tried to open her
son's pee-pee and wash it during one of his baths, but Jimmy cried and resisted
so much, she had to stop. She never did it again, afraid to hurt him, since he
complained about stinging when he peed in the potty after his bath. She could
only imagine what a vibrating toothbrush felt like.
"Slowly
slide it up and down over the top of his nub," Amy explained, "It
instantly makes boys pee. Aww, poor baby... Why don't we clean your tiny pee
slit too?"
Amy pressed the
buzzing brush into the hole at the tip of the boy's willy.
"That'll
teach him to keep still next time you clean his his little worm."
The nurse felt
wetness between her legs. She typically enjoyed torturing boys with an electric
toothbrush for a bit longer, but she already got enough angry stares from
Jimmy's mom to push her luck. How would she explain a patient's fainting to his
mom?
Amy quickly wiped
the boy's willy and returned the foreskin to its normal position, proceeding to
demonstrate feathers, brushes, and other tickling tools on his balls.
"Alright.
The fun is over!" she said after a couple of minutes, replacing the wet and
dirty diaper cloth under Jimmy's bottom with a new one. "Let's wipe you
again and apply the diaper rash cream."
She quickly and
efficiently wiped Jimmy's bottom and picked up a q-tip.
"Always
clean him inside too," Amy said, pouring a drop of liquid soap onto the
cotton tip. "Sweetheart, you need to open your little hiney for me... It
is important to teach him to keep his bum open, when you are cleaning it. Let's
do a fun little exercise. Open your bottom, honey. I am talking about your poop
hole. Just relax and pretend you are pooping... Not gonna do it for me?"
The nurse
inserted a soap stick into Jimmy's bottom, pushing it deep with her finger.
"How about
now? Do you like soap in your bum? I don't think so. Let's try again. Relax
your hole..." she massaged the puckered hole with one finger. "Here
we go. Now try to keep it open like this. Good boy! Imagine yourself sitting on
the potty, waiting for the poopies to come out."
Amy took a q-tip
and poured a drop of liquid soap on it.
"Gently
trace the inside of his hole," she explained to Laura, touching Jimmy's
butt hole.
The boy flinched
and puckered it.
"What did I
tell you?" Amy gave him a stern look. "To keep your bum open?"
She inserted
another soap stick in his butt, making sure to wiggle her finger, until Jimmy
burst out in tears.
"You need to
learn to keep your little hole open, so your mommy can thoroughly clean
it," the nurse told him. 'Every time you close it, I am going to put a
soap stick in your bum. Let's try again. Good!"
Amy touched the
inside of Jimmy bum with a q-tip. It tickled so badly, his whole body trembled.
He strained to keep his butt open. He didn't want another soap stick in his
bottom.
"No manners
at all!" Amy laughed after her q-tip caused Jimmy's bowels to cramp and
let out a loud fart, "I'm sorry, honey. You shut your little hole again.
You know what it means: another soap stick."
She kept
torturing the boy until he shuddered and pooped all of the soap out.
"Trying so
hard, you made a poopie?" the nurse sneered at the embarrassed boy.
"Luckily just soap. OK, enough for the first time. Your mommy will train
you more at home."
Amy wiped Jimmy's
butt and quickly covered everything between his legs with the diaper rash
cream. As always, the nurse took delight in tickling the boy's most sensitive
spots, though his bladder was completely empty, and the tickle just caused dry
spasms, making Jimmy strain his willy and gasp for air.
"You can
dress him now," she said after two minutes, that seemed like an eternity
for an eight year old boy.
"Look what I
bought you!" Laura said enthusiastically, showing Jimmy cute tights and a
matching baby blue t-shirt.
She expected her
son to protest, but Jimmy was so exhausted by the nurse's torture, he just gave
her a "whatever" look. Laura quickly dressed Jimmy and sat him on her
arm like a toddler.
"Thank the
nurse for taking such a good care of you!" Laura knew how wrong it was to
ask her son to do that after everything Amy subjected him to in the last 30
minutes, but she couldn't resist contributing to Jimmy's humiliation.
"Thank
you!" Jimmy mumbled, avoiding the eye contact with his tormenter. He
couldn't believe they were finally leaving the horrible place, likely to haunt
him in his nightmares for the rest of his life.
Laura left the
hospital, holding Jimmy in her arms. She wanted the world to know he was her
toddler again.
5. The Neighbors
It took them
almost an hour to get home due to the lunchtime traffic.
"Beats our
old house, huh?" Laura said after they entered a spacious two-bedroom
apartment. "Just the view alone..."
She pointed at
the giant living room window, better described as a glass wall with a sliding
door to the balcony.
"Come
here," Laura took her son's hand, and walked onto the balcony. "Have
you ever imagined living in a building like this? Overlooking the ocean."
The futuristic
all-glass apartment building was indeed pretty cool. Until Jimmy realized the
spacious balcony, that served as a "back yard", was shared: spanning
across the entire floor. Anyone could come to their window and look inside.
"I don't
know about you, but I'm gonna spend most of my time here, outside" Laura
told her son.
Neighbors: young
moms like Jimmy's with little sons and teenage sisters also seemed to prefer
the balcony to being inside. It was quite busy, best compared to a regular
house backyard during some kid's birthday or another party. Maybe there was one
of those going on.
"They
thought of everything," Laura said. "Even changing tables."
Jimmy followed
her sight, discovering a 15-16 year old girl changing a toddler boy's diaper.
Was she the boy's aunt or sister? His babysitter? So pretty. Did that boy's mom
put the changing table outside? Probably not. He counted five of them
throughout the balcony, apparently provided for the moms convenience. Whose
idea was that? Little kids had no privacy at all on this island. Jimmy blushed,
recalling embarrassing diaper changes at the hospital. Thankfully he won't be
changed in public again. Not here. Since no one would make him wear a
diaper.
"Let's go
inside," Laura took her son's hand and they returned to their apartment.
"Mom, is
that a..." Jimmy couldn't believe his eyes. Something he initially mistook
for a dresser, was a very obvious padded changing table.
"Changing
table?" Laura smirked, "It is. Nice to have one in the living room,
isn't it? So I can watch TV, while changing you."
She couldn't be
serious. And why she put that table right by the window?
"Are there
any blinds?" Jimmy wondered.
"No need for
blinds or curtains. The window glass dims automatically when you turn the TV
on. Watch!"
Laura picked up
the TV remote and pressed a button, turning on a huge screen on the wall. Jimmy
noticed the window dim a little.
"Let me
record this show," she said, pressing another button. "Come on,
honey! Wanna see your room?"
Jimmy followed
his mom into one of the bedrooms, noticing it didn't have a door. A bigger
surprise was waiting for him inside.
"Like what
you see?" Laura asked, struggling to keep a straight face. "Isn't it
the most adorable little boy's bedroom in the world?"
She knew her
eight year old son would be shocked to see an oversized crib and the second
changing table. She even decorated the light blue walls with cartoon character
decals for a distinctive toddler nursery look.
"Is that a
crib?" Jimmy could barely hold back tears. "I'm not sleeping in
that!"
"It's a
kid's bed. The only one I found with a waterproof mattress."
A subtle
reference at night-time incontinence made Jimmy blush. It was so unfair.
"I don't
wanna sleep in a crib!" he cried in protest. "I'm not a baby!"
"Calm down,
sweetie. It's not a crib."
"But it has
side rails!" Jimmy pointed at the crib, tears streaming down his cheeks.
"All kid's
beds do."
"My old one
didn't. I wanna go back! I hate this island!"
Laura chuckled,
secretly enjoying her son's tantrum. "If you are so upset over this crib,
wait, until you discover your potty," she thought with a sly smile. The
bathroom had a fingerprint lock, programmed, like many other doors, for the
female residents of the island only. Her eight year old son would have no
choice, but to use a toddler potty.
"Let's go
back!" Jimmy insisted with a sob.
"Honey, this
is our home now," Laura said firmly. "But you can indeed go back...
to the hospital. I swear, if you don't quiet down right this minute, I am going
to take you straight to the hospital we just came from."
Laura glanced at
her son's frightened face. He was definitely afraid to see the
"creative" nurses. Especially the one that changed him last. What
little boy wouldn't? Laure briefly mulled on the sudden idea.
"I'm
serious, honey," she told Jimmy with a straight face. "Let's call the
hospital."
Laura quickly
looked up and dialed the hospital number.
"What was
that nurse's last name... Wilson... Can I speak with Ms.Wilson please?"
"Mom!"
he cried in fear.
"Shh!...
Who's calling? I am one of her patients mother... Harper... Yes, James...
OK."
Laura put the
phone on loudspeaker, so Jimmy could hear the conversation.
"Mom,
please!" Jimmy begged between sobs.
"Quiet! Not
another word, or we'll start packing. Are you gonna be a good boy now?"
Jimmy nodded.
"Promise to
do everything I tell you?"
"Yes."
"Good! ....
Hi Amy."
"Hi,
Laura."
The unmistakeable
young voce made Jimmy nearly pee his pants.
"How is our
little Jimmy doing?" Amy asked. "What a cute boy you have."
"He's doing
fine, thank you. We just got home. A lot of new discoveries. You know how it
is."
"I certainly
do," Amy stifled laughter. "What can I help you with today? Would you
like to schedule Jimmy's next checkup? Say, two weeks from now. Bring him to
the hospital and I'll personally take care of him."
"Let me
think about it," Laura was enjoying her son's frightened look. "I
just wanted to thank you for taking such a good care of Jimmy. Especially
considering all his diapers you had to change."
"No problem
at all. That's what we do here: care about little wetters and poopers. Hope
your son will be using his potty at home. Good luck with his potty training!
Say hi to Jimmy for me."
"He's
actually listening. I put the phone on the loudspeaker. Sorry for not telling
you earlier."
Jimmy heard
another giggle.
"It's OK. So
if you are listening, little one, do everything your mommy tells you," Amy
said in a patronizing tone. "Especially when it comes to your potty
business. Or we'll be seeing each other quite often."
"Thanks
again for taking care of my son. Is there anything I can do for you?"
Amy wanted to
tell Laura to ask Jimmy's pediatrician for the tac-stim therapy... mentioning
just the right nurse, certified to do it... But that' would have been too
obvious. Besides Jimmy's mom didn't seem to pick a pediatrician yet. All in due
time.
"Making sure
his pants stay dry would be the best reward for me and the rest of the nurses
who changed him." she said instead.
The women said
goodbyes and hung up. Amy stood in the hallway grinning. She was used to calls
like that, typically ignoring moms calling her to frighten their sons. Half of
the island did.
Though she made
an exception for Jimmy, she still vividly remembered. The cute eight year old
provided endless entertainment for the Unit 2B staff. He was more than welcome
in their hospital again. Naïve Jimmy's mom couldn't know her threat to send her
son to Amy would indeed materialize.
Cuties like Jimmy
never severed their ties with the Unit 2B. Arranging his new visit there was
super easy - the matter of just one conversation with his pediatrician.
Especially if it was going to be Amy's best friend and lover Angie Larsen, who
always sent Amy the cutest kids arriving on the island. Convincing others took
more effort. Amy had to brandish her WNFP connections.
"I am sure
your bedroom will grow on you," Laura told her son. "Let's go back to
the living room, where you'll be spending most of your time in this
apartment... with your mommy, since little children always need to be
supervised."
Jimmy pouted at
being called "little", but didn't argue. The hospital threat still
seemed very real.
"All your
toys are in that box" Laura pointed at the big plastic container.
"Make a habit of putting them back after you are done playing. By the way,
that's your play area. You are only allowed to play on those mats."
"But they
are for babies," Jimmy protested, staring at the brightly colored foam
mats: the interlocking kind commonly found at daycares.
"What's
wrong with the mats, honey? Easy on your knees, don't you think? You crawl a
lot, when you play... My little baby." Laura loved teasing her son.
"Well, if you hate them so much, I can get you a playpen. Would you prefer
that, honey?"
Jimmy couldn't
understand, why his mom started treating him differently the moment they
arrived on the island. It was so unfair. Even with everyone around treating
kids his age like mindless toddlers... Why she allowed other moms to convince
her, he was one too?
"I did some
thinking after seeing your baby boy's fountains at the pediatrician's
office," Laura started cautiously. "We need to change a few things,
honey. You are not quite ready to be a big boy."
"What do you
mean?" Jimmy gave his mom a suspicious look.
"For
starters, I regret letting you shower on your own. You can't even wipe your
bottom properly," Laura smirked at Jimmy's red face. "It was quite
embarrassing seeing your dirty hiney, when the nurse took your temperature. She
probably thought I am too lazy to take a good care of you. Pooping after the
thermometer left your bum didn't make things any better. I am supposed to keep
an eye on your potty business and take care of your constipation. Not a nurse
with a rectal thermometer."
"But
mom!"
"Silence!
I'm not finished yet! I was a bad mother: not paying enough attention to your
health and hygiene. We are going to start things right in our new home.
Children your age need to have their temperature taken daily. Yes, with
"that" thermometer. I already bought one. Hopefully it'll take care
of the constipation problem too."
Jimmy frowned
realizing how serious his mom was.
"And I am
going to make sure, that the little hole the thermometer goes into, stays
squeaky clean. I will not let you embarrass me at your next checkup."
Laura struggled
to keep the straight face, watching her son blush.
"You are
going to be bathed by me from now on," she continued. "I am also
going to thoroughly wipe your bottom after going potty. Speaking of
which..."
She went to the
bathroom, returning with a light blue plastic potty.
"Like this
potty, honey? Seems to be the right size for a boy your age."
"Mom are
you..." Jimmy stared at the potty, unable to continue.
"Serious? I
am, sweetheart. Little boys don't shower on their own. Nor they use adult
toilets."
"But I'm not
little!" Jimmy broke out in tears.
"Tell it to
the hospital nurses, that changed your diapers. They gave me this wetting and
pooping chart. Let's see. You took quite a liking to soaking and messing your
diapers. Interesting... Looks like you also peed during every diaper change
like a six month old. Why did you do it? I wouldn't want your nurse's job.
Having to deal with your pee fountains all day long."
Jimmy didn't know
what to say.
"I'm not
little! I'm not a baby!" he kept chanting between sobs.
"You sure
wet yourself like one. Don't tell me how big you are. Prove it. Show me, you
know how to use a potty."
"Uhm... right
here?"
"Yes,
sweetie. Right here."
"But aren't
you..." Jimmy blushed deeper. "...gonna leave? I can't do it with you
watching."
"No, honey,
I'm not leaving. Little children need to be supervised at all times, remember?
Especially on the potty. What's the matter, sweetheart? I'm your mother. You
weren't so shy, when I potty-trained you a couple of years ago. You loved
showing everyone, how you tinkle in the potty, like a big boy. Come on. Let's
take your pants off, so you can show your mommy again, what a big boy you
are."
Laura kneeled and
reached for Jimmy's pants.
"No!"
Jimmy jumped back before she could put fingers inside the elastic waist of his
footed "yoga" bottoms.
'Honey, let's try
to pee in the potty. It's been over an hour since you did it last. Good thing
the nurse made you tinkle before we left, so you wouldn't wet your pants on the
bus. Let's keep them dry."
"But I don't
wanna pee!" Jimmy lied, fighting a rapidly intensifying urge to relieve
himself.
'Why did you
cross your legs like that then? Honey, I don't want you to pee these nice
pants. Can't you do it in the potty like a good boy?"
Jimmy didn't
answer.
"Fine!"
Laura raised her voice after standing up. "I gave you your chance to be a
big boy. Guess you are not ready for the potty. Expecting me to diaper you? Is
that what you want?"
She looked at her
fidgeting son, gauging how soon he'd have a wet accident.
"You're
gonna be very sorry, if you wet these pants," she told Jimmy.
Laura didn't care
about the dirt-cheap pants. She bought plenty, expecting frequent accidents.
She was secretly waiting for one. Hasn't seen her son pee himself for ages.
Always so funny. She could stage Jimmy's wetting and messing every 30 minutes,
if she wanted to. Laundry was a breeze: completely automatic. She didn't even
need to dispose of the load inside the kid's pants. The washer machine took
care of everything.
Suddenly the
doorbell rang. Laura opened the door, looking at a mid-thirties woman with a
teenage girl.
"Hi! I'm
Monica, the 24th floor community president," the woman introduced herself.
"And this is my daughter Vicky. We saw you on the balcony and thought we'd
stop by and welcome you to the community. By the way we live next door, in
24E."
"Laura,"
Jimmy's mom smiled, taking a note of Monica's silver Venus pin indicating her
WNFP rank. "Please come in."
"Are you
busy tonight?" Monica asked. "I'm thinking of a welcome dinner.
You'll get a chance to meet everyone. How about 19:30? Right after the daily
kids bath."
"I need to
bath my son before bringing him to that dinner?" Laura looked confused.
"No, not for
the dinner," Monica explained. "Sorry. I thought you knew. Another
tradition of ours: to bath all little children together on the balcony. We set
up several inflatable kiddie pools."
"What a
great idea!" Laura smiled slyly, imagining her shy son's reaction to such
public bath. "Letting little ones play in the water together."
"With a
weather like this all year round no one bathes their kids indoors. One
condition though, if it's OK with you. Someone other than you would bath your
son. While you'd bath somebody else's kid."
"Interesting..."
it took Laura a couple of seconds to digest. "Like... swapping kids?"
"Something
like that. You don't have to swap your son with another mom's kid. You are free
to pick any little one you like. As long, as he is not yours. Or just bring
your son there to have him bathed, if you are busy."
"I
see."
"It lets you
care for children of different ages: younger and older than yours. Just make
sure you go through all of the kids before bathing the same one again. By the
way, you can also visit other floors. All floor communities bath little kids
like that. They may have different schedules. Some prefer mornings. Make sure
you are OK with specific rules, like cleaning the child with an enema before
his bath."
Laura grinned
with delight. She yearned to hold a baby in her arms again, missing her son's
infant and toddler years. And if she bathes someone else's boy Jimmy's age,
he'd blush, when she touches his boy parts. While watching her red-faced son
bathed by another mom. Priceless!
"It teaches
the kids, we are one happy family," Monica kept explaining.
"Jimmy will
be thrilled to find out, that he's got many moms, who can bath him," Laura
smirked sarcastically. "And big sisters." She winked at Vicky.
"Is that kid sharing strictly between moms? Or you bath little ones too,
sweetie?"
"Love doing
it," Vicky smiled.
"You can ask
for a babysitter certificate, if the girl that wants to bath your son looks too
young." Monica suggested. "Most girls here become experienced
babysitters by the age of 14. Infant care is part of the high school
curriculum."
"Younger
girls are allowed to bath kids too," Vicky explained. "They just
cannot do it alone."
"I can assure
you, everyone here has the necessary skills to bath your son," Monica told
Laura. "Young girls learn them very quickly. We set aside one day a week
just for that. No one older than 16 is allowed to bath little ones. Just
supervise."
"Great
idea," Laura agreed. "To teach younger girls how to bath a kid."
"Yep. The
adults take a break, watching their daughters and younger sisters doing that.
Many bring friends."
"Seems like
fun. I'll be delighted to participate," Laura decided. "Jimmy needs
to get used to being cared for by others, so he won't give trouble to
babysitters and daycares workers. I won't always be around to change and bath
him. Starting the new job next week."
"Congratulations!
What you do for living?"
"Creative
marketing."
"Wow! So you
are an artist?"
"Of the
internet kind. And you must be a pastry chef?" Laura turned to Vicky.
"Did you bake these delicious rolls yourself?"
"I did. We
always bake them for the new neighbors."
"Thanks a
lot! Can't wait to try them. And Jimmy would gobble all of them, if I let him.
Can I offer you some tea? Please come in."
Laura invited
Monica and Vicky into the living room.
"This is my
son Jimmy."
"Hi
Jimmy," Vicky smiled. "I'm Vicky."
The boy just
stared at her, unable to speak.
"Jimmy!"
Laura raised her voice.
"Hi!"
Jimmy mustered to say, mesmerized by the girl's beauty.
"So
shy," Monica smiled. "How old is he? Eight?"
"Yeah,
eight," Laura confirmed.
"Love your
pants, Jimmy," Vicky said. "You must be a big fan of Vinnie the
Pooh."
Jimmy blushed,
reminded of his ridiculous toddler attire. Not to mention how awkward it felt
being at the center of everyone's attention.
"And this is
your potty?" Vicky pointed at the plastic potty, making Jimmy's face
redder.
"Made your
mom's life a lot easier..." Monica remarked.
"When did
you get him to regularly use the potty?" Vicky asked.
"We're still
working on it," Laura told her. "You know how it is with boys."
"Boys are
notoriously hard to potty train," Monica agreed. "How many pairs of
wet pants you have to deal with daily?"
"Looks like
he is about to pee these ones," Vicky giggled.
"I noticed
his potty dance too," Monica nodded.
It suddenly
dawned on Jimmy he didn't need to stand in front of them listening to the
absurd conversation about his potty training. Not to mention he indeed needed
to be somewhere else: in the bathroom, to avoid wetting his pants in front of
everyone. He glanced at his mom and dashed out of the room.
"Mom!"
Jimmy called anxiously a couple seconds later after finding the bathroom door
locked.
"Honey, what
are you doing here?" his mom came. "It's kind of impolite to leave
guests like that. They were wondering where you went."
"The
bathroom's locked."
"Yeah. So
what?"
"I need to
go to a bathroom!"
"No, you
don't. I'll bath you before the dinner."
"But
I..."
"Honey, how
many times I have to tell you? You need to use the potty for your little boy's
business."
"I don't
wanna!" Jimmy burst out in tears "Only babies do!"
"Don't make
a scene. We have guests," Laura told her son calmly. "You heard the
doctor yesterday. Children your age should do their business in the potty. Both
number one and number two. How about this? Show me that you know how to use the
potty. Keep you pants dry for a week, and we'll talk about the adult toilet.
Deal? Now, calm down and let's go back to the living room."
Laura took
Jimmy's hand and dragged him to the living room.
"What
happened?" Vicky asked.
"He does
need to go potty after all," Laura sighed. "It's right here, honey.
Let's take your pants off and sit you on it. Or it's just number one?"
Jimmy froze with
a blank stare on his face. Was his mom really going to sit him on the plastic
potty?
"Jimmy, I
asked you a question!" Laura raised her voice. "Is it number one or
number two?"
Barely able to
hold his pee, Jimmy decided to tell his mom about it. He still hoped she'd
unlock the bathroom for him. She couldn't be serious expecting him to pee in
the potty right in front of their neighbors.
"It's..."
Jimmy felt the hot wave sweep over his face. "Numb-b-b..."
He trembled and
let out a stream of pee in his pants. He couldn't believe what was happening to
him. And he couldn't stop wetting his pants, feeling the warm patch spreading
around his crotch and inner thighs.
"Oh my gosh,
Jimmy!" Laura tried her best to act surprised. "Look what you
did!"
Jimmy kept his
eyes downcast. He couldn't face his mom's gaze. Or anyone else's. He wanted to
disappear in the thin air.
"Never seen
a redder face in my life," Vicky giggled.
"At least
he's ashamed of peeing his pants," Laura sighed. "Why did you do it,
Jimmy? Why you are so stubborn? Couldn't you pee in the potty, when I asked you
to?"
Laura felt the
tingling in her crotch. Scolding her red-faced son was so much fun. His first
wet accident far exceeded her expectations, when Jimmy peed himself in front of
their neighbors. Especially the cute 14-something girl he seemingly had a crush
on.
"And there I
thought you were a big boy," Monica sighed, playing along.
Jimmy strained
his whole body and stopped the flow. There was a big wet spot on his pants
everyone kept staring at. Having finally realized the full extend of what just
happened to him, the boy started to sob.
"How often
he wets himself during the day?" Monica inquired.
"Quite a bit
according to the chart they gave me at the hospital. Though they diapered him
there."
"Hospital
nurses don't have time to sit kids like him on the potty and wait for the
results."
"I thought
it wouldn't be a problem to get him to use it at home." Laura took her
son's hand. "Come on. Let's get you on changed."
She brought Jimmy
to the changing table and sat him on it. "Lie on your back. Here we go.
Lift your butt!"
The boy complied
allowing her to pull his pants off.
"Don't touch
anything there!" she slapped Jimmy's hands away. "Great! Now I need
to wash your hands too."
"He's so
shy," Vicky giggled.
"Jimmy!"
Laura raised her voice, seeing her son cover himself again. "Could you
keep your hands on the table please?"
Jimmy sighed and
moved his hands away from his crotch, wondering why their neighbors didn't
politely leave. Seemed like they really wanted to watch his change.
"That's
better," Laura said. "Hasn't anyone here seen little pee-pees
before."
"Nothing new
down there, sweetheart," Monica agreed, pointing at Jimmy's crotch.
"I see plenty of naked little boys every day at the daycare I manage.
Vicky works there too. When she's not babysitting privately."
"You
do?" Laura turned to Vicky. "I may need your services."
"Let me
know," the girl said. "I'll be happy to babysit your little
cutie."
"Would you
watch him for a few moments?" Laura asked her. "I need to get the
baby wipes and his diaper rash cream."
Laura went to the
fridge, returning with a box of baby wipes and a tube of cream.
"We also use
chilled wipes on kids his age," Monica nodded in approval.
"He needs to
learn his lesson."
She raised her
son's legs and started wiping Jimmy's bottom.
"So cute...
Wiggling his bottom like a six month old!" Vicky giggled. "Why boys
are always so restless on the changing table?"
"Keep
still!" Laura told her squirming son. "If you pee your pants at the
age of eight, you can surely handle cold wiping."
"Let me hold
him for you" Monica offered, taking a hold of Jimmy's ankles.
"Thanks,"
Laura nodded.
She proceeded to
wipe her son's balls, taking a note how he trembled every time she touched his
pink sack with a cold wipe. Laura took her time, watching Jimmy's pee-pee
strain. She was determined to make him spring a baby boy fountain.
"You're not
gonna pee on me, are you?" she asked her embarrassed son, tickling his
balls with a folded wipe.
Jimmy shuddered
and let out a spurt of pee.
"Guess
that's your answer..." Laura sighed.
"Playing
firemen?" Vicky giggled. "Every boy's favorite game on the changing
table."
"Who needs a
fire extinguisher, when we have his little hose?" Laura said, making
everyone laugh.
"With boys,
you don't need mad elimination communication skills to turn a pants/diaper
change into a pottytunity," Monica remarked. "Every single one pees
having his little package cleaned with a cold wipe."
Having learned by
now what EC meant, Jimmy was sick of listening to adults exchanging tips to
"potty" him like a six month old.
"Thoroughly
wipe him behind the balls," Monica instructed Laura, "Every boy's
dirtiest place."
Laura kept wiping
Jimmy for another couple of minutes, following her neighbor's pointers. An
experienced daycare worker, Monica taught her even more tricks, when Laura
proceeded to put the diaper rash cream on her son's boy parts. Knowing how
ticklish Jimmy became after the "correction", Laura made sure to use
a very light touch. It didn't take long for the pee to pour out of his willy
again.
"Jimmy!"
she gave him a stern look, trying not to laugh. "Are you doing it on
purpose? I've had it with you! Do you want me to spend all day changing you?
Since now I need to start over. There is so much to do in our new apartment.
Not to mention a ton of emails I need to answer."
"I can wipe
him clean and apply the ointment," Vicky offered, taking a hint.
"You can? If
it's not too much to ask... So sorry about him."
"No problem.
I'll take care of him."
"Thanks!"
Laura let the girl take her place. "He's all yours, sweetie."
"I can hold
him all by myself, mom," Vicky told Monica, taking Jimmy's legs.
"Sure you
don't need my help? He's a handful."
"I'll
manage," Vicky crossed Jimmy's ankles and raised the boy's legs making him
lift his butt off the table. "First let's make sure we're not gonna have
any more surprises." She winked at Jimmy. "Can you make a tinkle,
sweetie-pie?"
Jimmy blushed a
brighter shade of red. It seemed unreal: a pretty teenage girl holding him
butt-naked on a changing table and asking to... pee? Like a six month old? He
started to regret he didn't pee in the potty, though doing it in front of
everyone like a three-year old was only marginally better.
"What's the
matter, bunny?" Vicky cooed, "Show me your baby boy fountain again. I
know you love doing it. Every little boy does. Come on. Let me help you a
little."
She reached
behind Jimmy's balls and started expertly tickling them, quickly making the boy
pee.
"Here we
go!" the girl smiled. "Look at that fountain! So much fun!"
No matter how
hard Jimmy kicked his legs and squirmed, he couldn't escape the girl's fingers.
"How are you
able to hold him down like that?" Laura asked Vicky, watching her son's
wild bucking. "You had a good teacher, sweetie."
"Amazing,
isn't it?" Monica grinned with pride. "Only 14 years old, yet
perfectly capable of handling the most uncooperative kids even older than
yours."
"You taught
your daughter well," Laura said, watching the girl's fingers dance all
over Jimmy's shriveled little sack. "I wonder if she plays piano."
"I do,"
Vicky nodded.
Vicky kept
tickling Jimmy for a little while even after he stopped sprinkling pee out of
his willy.
"There is
like a special term for cowardly boy's balls..." she said, "When they
jump up at the lightest touch trying to escape your fingers."
"Are you
talking about the cremasteric reflex, honey?" Monica suggested.
"Yeah,
that's what doctors call it. Look!" she tickled the left side of Jimmy's
ballsack. "So jumpy. The right one is too. Is that how the doctors check
the boy's ticklishness?"
"Among other
things," Monica smirked.
Laura immensely
enjoyed watching Vicky's ministrations. It was such a cute and innocent scene.
She wished for a 14 year old sister or niece: pretty and experienced like
Vicky. Would have been perfect for Jimmy. It was fate. That cute giggling
neighbor girl was meant to be his babysitter.
Seeing her son
pee again responding to Vicky's touch sent Laura over the edge. She desperately
needed a relief. It was wrong, but she had a crush on the cute girl too. Who
wouldn't? Vicky got Jimmy under her spell the moment he saw her. He didn't have
a chance, instantly drowning in her pretty hazel eyes. Laura has never seen her
son blush so much. His red face always turned her on. And together with that
cute kitten changing him...
"Would you
excuse me for a moment?" she apologized to her guests, heading to the
bathroom.
It took Laura
mere seconds to rub her engorged "girl's button" to a shuddering
orgasm, she hadn't experienced in years. She covered her mouth to silence the
screams. The first excruciating wave of pleasure passed, and she just sat on
the toilet shaking. It seemed like the sweet cramps would never stop. Was she
still on Earth, or she went to heaven? She was so lucky to be accepted into the
ETB program with her son.
"Almost
done," Vicky told Laura upon her return, "Just need to put some cream
into his groin folds."
"I need
bathroom breaks like that too, when I am at work," Monica whispered into
Laura's ear. "Especially if someone brings a pretty boy like yours. You
are so lucky!"
"Thank
you!"
Having her secret
discovered felt a little awkward, but Laura did not need to be ashamed of her
desires. Not on this island.
"Stand
up!" she told her son, after Vicky finished massaging the diaper rash
cream into his delicate folds.
"Can I wear
different pants?" Jimmy asked, noticing a piece of footed clothing in his
mom's hands.
"They are
different, honey. Lime green with a little froggy."
"Do you know
his name?" Vicky asked.
Jimmy sighed. Of
course he knew the frog's name: Kermit. But why this pretty girl kept talking
to him like a two year old?
"I don't
like them," he told his mom, on the verge of crying. "Mom, please!
Can I have like... normal pants? And underwear."
"I am
afraid, honey, the only underwear appropriate for you after your accident is a
diaper. So what it is going to be? These Kermit pants or this Diego
diaper?" se pointed at a couple of diapers the nurses gave her at the
hospital.
Jimmy frowned,
offended by the choice his mother's gave him.
"Neither?"
Laura asked with a scornful smile. "No pants at all?"
"Doesn't he
look cuter without them?" Vicky giggled, admiring the butt-naked boy in
his short t-shirt, that didn't even cover his belly button.
"What did I
tell you about covering yourself?" Laura raised her voice. "Stop
pulling your t-shirt. You almost tore it at the seam.
She was tempted
to leave her eight year old son butt-naked, but she didn't need another scene
in front of the guests. There'd be a more appropriate time to introduce him to
being naked from the waist down at home. And most importantly on the spacious
shared balcony, where other moms can admire his bare butt. While she is
enjoying looking at their sons round bottoms and bouncing willies.
"Did your
mommy tell you, you have the cutest tummy in the world?" Vicky jokingly poked
Jimmy in his belly button.
It took the boy
by surprise, making him let out a loud fart.
"Where are
your manners, Jimmy?" Laura asked her son. "Our neighbors probably
think I didn't teach you any."
"I am
sorry," Jimmy mumbled with a red face.
"Sorry for
what? Come on. You need to say it loud. That you are sorry for pooting. Let's
hear it: sorry, I pooted."
Jimmy had to
repeat the humiliating apology, wishing the Earth would open and swallow him.
"You are
only allowed to do it on the potty," Laura told her son. "And lying
on the changing table with your legs up in the air. If it happens in any other
situation, you need to apologize for pooting. Understood?"
Jimmy meekly
nodded.
"Now, let me
ask you again. Are you gonna wear these pants or you prefer a diaper? Pants,
right? I thought so too."
Jimmy reached for
the green pants in his mom's hands.
"What are
doing?" she gave him a sharp slap on the wrist.
"Getting my
pants?" Jimmy looked completely confused.
"To put them
on? You can't do it, honey. Guess, I forgot to tell you the last rule. Only
adults can dress you from now on."
"Why?"
"Little boys
are dressed and undressed by their mommies and babysitters, silly."
"I'm not
little!" Jimmy struggled to hold back tears. He didn't want to cry like a
toddler in front of the pretty girl smiling at him.
"I am
afraid, sweetie, you are", Laura told him with a condescending smirk,
"A mischievous little boy refusing to use his potty. Keep wetting and
messing your pants, and you'll be treated accordingly: like a two year
old.".
Jimmy bit his
lip, realizing, that arguing with his mom would only make things worse.
"Now,"
she continued. "If you want me to put these pants on you, you need to
promise, that you'll ask for your potty next time you want to make tinkles or
poopies. And if I am not around, you need to ask any adult supervising you - to
sit you on the potty. Is that clear?"
Jimmy nodded.
Anything she says. He couldn't bear standing on the changing table butt-naked
in front of his mom and the two neighbors, not to mention the ones on the
balcony, that surely stared at his bare bottom.
"Good! Do
you know how a good boy should ask for his potty?" Laura wasn't quite
finished, enjoying her son's red face. "No? First you need to tell me or
your babysitter, what you need your potty for: tinkles or poo-poos. If it is
only number one, the potty will be placed in front of you. Like this,"
Laura brought the plastic potty and put it on the changing table by her son's
feet. "Put your hands down by your sides! Stop covering yourself! Or you
are trying to play with your willy? We'll eradicate that nasty habit as
well."
Vicky stifled a
giggle, sending new hot waves over Jimmy's face.
"What a
shame!" Laura couldn't stop scolding her son, feeling familiar wetness in
her panties. "How many times a day you rub it?"
She took a hold
of Jimmy's flaccid pee-pee, making him blush more.
"Little boys
have this tiny spigot between their legs for only one purpose," Laura
continued, rolling her son's willy in her fingers. "Can you tell us? No?
Forgot what your willy is for?"
"For
peeing?" Jimmy managed to mumble.
"Right. And
nothing else. Under no circumstances you are allowed to touch any of your boy
bits. Only mommies can touch their little boys down here. And other adult
caretakers."
"But
she..." Jimmy nodded at Vicky.
"Hush!
Ms.Vicky..." Laura made a pause for her words to sink in. "...is an
adult, as far, as you are concerned. She is a skilled babysitter, and she can
touch you anywhere she needs. I won't always be around to change your wet
pants. Get used to others helping me bath and change you. Even girls younger
than Vicky."
Laura let go of
her son's pee-pee, noticing, that her manipulations made it stick forward.
Perfect for what she planned next.
"Since you are
not allowed to touch your little twig, someone else needs to aim it in the
potty, so you won't wet your legs or make a mess on the floor," she looked
at her son's red face. "No one enjoys mopping pee puddles. And as far, as
your own hands, put them on your head please. You heard me! Now pick your
favorite person in the room to hold you willy. Yes, I really want you to try.
Show us how good little boys pee in the potty."
Jimmy hated his
mom's game, but he desperately wanted her to put the pants on him.
"Mommy?"
he looked at Laura.
"No, honey.
I am sorry. I've had enough pee-pee holding for today. Why don't you ask Vicky
to do it? Didn't you like how she wiped your bottom and boy parts? So much, you
tried to pee on her several times. Is that how little boys show their
affection? I know you can't wait to do it again while she's holding your little
spigot. Go on, ask her... Ms.Vicky, could you please hold my willy while I
tinkle in the potty?"
Jimmy stood
silent, unable to comprehend her request. He couldn't believe his own mom would
humiliate him like this.
"Are you
acting up again? Do you want your pants? Or you prefer to spend the rest of the
day butt-naked? Mostly on the balcony. It's so nice outside."
The boy meekly
abided, asking Vicky to hold his willy.
"Well, what
are you waiting for?" Laura asked Jimmy after Vicky aimed his little
spigot in the potty.
"Let's make
tinkles for mommy," the girl asked him with a sweet smile. "Don't you
want to show her what a big boy you are - peeing in the potty standing up?
Vicky cooed to
Jimmy for another minute trying to persuade him to pee.
"What I
thought," Laura concluded with a smug face. "Not quite ready to be a
big boy."
"But I don't
wanna!" Jimmy tried to explain on the verge of crying.
"Don't wanna
what?"
"Pee,"
he blushed again.
"Mommies
know best when their little ones need to go potty. If I listen to you, we'll
run out of dry pants in a few hours. I want to make something very clear.
Adults are always in charge. You need to do what you are told. You are lucky I
don't have time right now to deal with your stubbornness. Or keep Vicky here
for another hour holding your pee-pee."
"I can lay
him on his back and tickle him again," Vicky offered.
"No, dear.
You've already spent too much time on him. Without me paying a penny."
Laura turned to
her son again.
"Alright,
we've covered number one. Let's move to the second part: making poopies. Which,
remember, you also need to properly ask for. Assuming you still remember how...
What one needs to do after that?" Laura moved the potty behind Jimmy and
forcibly sat him on it.
To Jimmy's
surprise and further embarrassment the potty indeed fit his eight year old's
bum perfectly, though it was a little low for his longer legs, forcing him to
open his crotch. He traced Vicky's gaze and brought his knees together in a
futile attempt to hide the boy parts hanging between his legs.
"Is that how
good boys sit on the potty?" Laura raised her voice, "Keep your legs
apart, so everyone can see your progress." She pulled his knees apart.
"So what we do to make the poopies come out?" she continued.
"Strain and push, right? Can you at least pretend, honey? Looks like you
completely forgot your potty training. No wonder you took to wetting and
messing diapers."
Laura let her son
sit on the potty for half a minute, watching his face changing different shades
of red.
"I don't
suppose you'd reward us with a poopie right this moment," she sighed.
"Next time, when I sat you on your potty for real, you'll be given exactly
two minutes. Your potty better has a nice big load when that time is up.
Because otherwise you'll find yourself on the changing table in a diapering
position. Spending some quality time with this mommy's helper."
She showed Jimmy
a "special" rectal thermometer. "Or this one," Laura
produced an enema syringe. "Yes, I know, very unpleasant. But extremely
effective tools to make stubborn boys like you do your little kids business. I
hope it won't come to this, as you'll be filling your potty, when asked to. Now,
what you need to do after you went number two? Come on, it's obvious."
"Wipe my
butt?" Jimmy looked up, wondering how long his mom was going to torment
him with embarrassing questions.
"Not
exactly. You need to tell the adult in charge, that you finished pooping, and
ask her to clean your little hiney with baby wipes. Which will happen on the
changing table in the diapering position - for easy access to you dirty hole
and boy bits. Followed by a thorough oiling or creaming, so you won't get a
rash."
Laura put the
thermometer and enema syringe back into the top table drawer.
"OK, get
up!" she helped her son to stand up. "Not sure, how much of what I
just told you sunk in, and how many wet and dirty pants we are going to go
through today, but before I put a new pair on you, you need to do two things:
thank Vicky for taking such a good care of you and promise me and our sweet
neighbors, that from now on you'll ask for your potty in time - to avoid
wetting and messing your pants. Can you promise that, honey?"
With his face
aflame, Jimmy made the humiliating promise, repeating his mom's words.
"Now thank
Ms.Vicky for cleaning your bum and boy bits"
"Thank
you!" JImmy told Vicky, noticing his mom's stare.
"For
what?" Laura raised her voice. "Repeat after me. Thank you, Ms.Vicky
for cleaning my pee-pee... Go on."
Jimmy repeated
her words, wondering how his face didn't catch fire.
"My little
marbles..." Laura continued. "And my poopie hole."
Jimmy stumbled.
He had no choice, but to repeat that too.
"Alright,
let's get you dressed," Laura quickly put the footed pants on her son,
pulling them high over his t-shirt. "Do you need help getting down? Here's
the chair."
Jimmy got down
from the changing table and immediately headed to the door. He couldn't stand
another second with the neighbors who just witnessed the most humiliating
moments in his life.
"Your play
area is over there!" reminded her son Laura after catching his arm.
She pointed at
the brightly colored mats.
"Thanks for
your help, Vicky. Finally... Let's have some tea."
Laura made the
tea and invited everyone to the kitchen table.
"We are
going to the beach," Monica mentioned. "Wanna come?"
"Which
one?"
"The
Pond."
"I heard
about it. It's like a giant aquarium full of colorful fish?"
"You need to
see it for yourself. Come with us. There will be another mom. Her son and Jimmy
can play together."
"OK. It's a
crime to avoid beaches, living on this island."
"Let's
meet... say in one hour? At the bus stop by our building?"
Laura bumped her
smartwatch with Monica's exchanging the contact info and the neighbors left. An
hour was enough to eat sandwiches and get ready. She had everything: the
sunblock, towels, and toys for her son to play in the sand - all bought
yesterday during one epic shopping spree, while Jimmy was in the hospital.
6. Beach Fun
In exactly one
hour Laura and her son were standing at the bus stop, everyone agreed to meet
at.
"Ready?"
Jimmy heard behind his back.
He turned around,
noticing Monica, Vicky, and a blond woman in the early twenties, holding a two
year old boy.
"This is
Irene," Monica introduced the toddler's mom.
"Hello!"
Irene greeted Laura and Jimmy with a slight Eastern European accent.
"Hi,
Irene!" Laura said, "I am Laura. This is my son Jimmy. And who is
this happy little fella?"
"Danny. He
loves the beach. We brought plenty of toys for the both of them to play in the
sand."
"I brought
some too. Where are you from? Such a beautiful accent."
"Poland.
Though going to the US after our stay here. WNFP took care of the green card.
And the job."
"Of course.
What city you're gonna settle in?"
"Haven't
decided yet. Any with an ORC office." (Orlov Robotics Corporation)
"You'll sure
have enough time to decide. How old is your Danny? Two?"
"Turned two
last month," Irene confirmed.
"How long
he's been out of diapers?"
"I started
potty training Danny a couple of weeks ago."
"See,
Jimmy?" Laura couldn't pass up the opportunity to make her son's face red
again. "Even a two year old managed to learn how to use the potty. While
you prefer to pee your pants."
"He
does?" Irene faked her surprise. "Poops them too?"
"Thankfully
hasn't happened today," Laura sighed. "Gonna keep your promise,
Jimmy? To ask for your potty in time. Are you?" she raised her voice.
"I am,"
Jimmy nodded, feeling his face getting hot. Why his mom had to bring up his
embarrassing accident? And this happy toddler. That's who they wanted him to
"play together" with? He expected a boy around his age instead of a
two year old. Who'd surely make him look like a toddler. Little did he know,
what waited for him at the beach.
"Here's our
bus," Monica said, pointing at the compact driverless bus.
It took about ten
minutes to get to the beach.
"How about
this spot?" Irene suggested after a brief walk in the sand.
"Perfect!"
Laura agreed, dropping her bag.
Everyone rolled
out their beach blankets and planted the umbrellas. Jimmy lazily watched Irene
undress her two year old son. He expected her to put some kind of swimwear on
Danny, but she left the boy naked. And this is when it hit Jimmy: every boy at
the beach was naked too. Some even older than him. The pictures at the airport
were indeed taken at the local beaches.
"Come here,
honey," his mom called. "Raise your arms. Let's take off your
t-shirt. Now the pants..."
"Are
you..." Jimmy felt his cheeks getting hot. "… going to change me
right here?"
"Change? Who
said anything about changing? Stand still. Here we go."
She pulled
Jimmy's pants to his ankles and quickly freed his feet of them. Jimmy wasn't
very happy about changing in front of everybody like a toddler, but he still
hoped he'd be treated differently than the rest of the island kids.
"That's it,
honey," Laura told her naked son. "Here's your bucket and shovel. Go
build a sand castle."
"But... what
about swimwear?"
"Swimwear?
Sorry, sweetheart. There is no swimwear for kids your age."
"Little kids
don't need to wear anything at the beach," Irene told Laura with her
Polish accent. "The "swimwear" I saw in your country is absolutely
ridiculous. Swimming diapers? Are you kidding me? No such thing in Europe. And
pretty much the rest of the world."
"Never liked
those either," Laura agreed, taking off her dress, "Still here?"
she looked at her son. "Don't give me any trouble. You gotta stop acting
like this. Never thought an eight year old could be so shy. I thought you'd
happy to lose your clothes. Look at Danny. What's happened to you? You loved
running around naked when you were younger."
"But I am
not anymore."
"There we go
again." Laura sighed. "A big boy, huh? Who hasn't learned how to use
the potty. Stop making a scene! Look around. See that boy?" she pointed at
the naked boy nearby. "Looks older than you. I bet he let his mom
undressed him without a fuss. What's he, nine?"
"Maybe even
ten," Monica said.
Jimmy looked
around. He did make a scene and quite a few young moms and their teenage
daughters were staring at him. Not to mention Irene two feet away looking him
up and down.
"What did I
tell you about touching your pee-pee?" Laura slapped her son's hands after
his attempt to cover himself.
"I'm..."
Jimmy's face turned redder. "Not touching it."
"Yeah,
right!" Laura rolled her eyes.
"Boys use
every chance to do it," Irene added.
Jimmy heard a few
stifled giggles, as more young moms around them tuned in.
"Move your
hands! No covering!" Laura slapped his hands again. "Nothing anyone
here hasn't seen before. Are you gonna stand and stare at me? Who did I buy
this for?"
Laura handed her
son a small plastic bucket with a matching toy shovel. Jimmy reluctantly took
the toys. It was so unfair. Only a three year old would play with something
like this. Not to mention how ridiculously he looked standing in front of
everyone naked.
"I've got a
better idea," Vicky said, getting up from the blanket. "Wanna go for
a swim, Jimmy? See the pretty fish? Plenty of it in the water."
"You're
gonna watch him, right?" Laura asked the girl.
"In the
water? Of course!" the girl nodded and turned to Jimmy. "Do you like
swimming?"
"He can't,"
Laura said.
"I'll teach
him. Let's go!" Vicky took Jimmy's hand.
By the time they
got to the water, walking past moms with toddler sons and teenage daughters,
Jimmy's face was beet-red. Seemed like the entire beach was staring at him. He
couldn't wait to get in the ocean: waist deep, so no one would see his willy.
Well, at least people on the beach. The ones in the water could perfectly see
everything and everyone, that clear it was.
"Pretty
cool, huh?" Vicky asked him.
The calm blue
lagoon indeed mesmerized Jimmy: its crystal clear water, pebbles and seashells
at the bottom, not to mention the small fish.
"Let's go
deeper," Vicky pulled his hand. "What's the matter, honey? I know you
can't swim. Silly little boy. You are safe with me. I am gonna hold you. I
won't let you drown. Come on. There is more fish... right over there."
She took Jimmy in
her arms like a baby, looking at him with a sweet smile. He stared at her
beautiful face, enjoying being so close to her, but also confused and
embarrassed. He was like a little brother to her. A pathetic toddler brother,
who pees his pants.
"My little
baby boy," Vicky gently rocked Jimmy in her arms. Should she even charge
for babysitting such an angel? He definitely had a crush on her. She noticed it
a while ago, catching a few of his shy glances. She felt the boy squirm and
held him tighter.
"Playing the
bubbles game?" Vicky giggled after his loud fart.
"Sorry,"
Jimmy apologized awkwardly.
"Do you need
to go number two?"
The red-faced boy
shook his head.
"Sure? Your
little hole..." She felt it with her finger, making the boy flinch with a
surprised and frightened look on his face. "...is trying to convince me
otherwise. How about we plug it. Just in case."
Vicky curtly slid
her big finger in before Jimmy could say anything. He was speechless, staring
at her with a dropped jaw.
"What?"
Vicky tried to act innocent, wiggling her finger inside Jimmy's butt.
It was so funny
watching him squirm and kick his legs.
"Do you play
the stinky bubble game in the bathtub with your mommy?" she asked the boy.
"No more pooting. Promise?"
Jimmy nodded,
wondering how long she was going to keep her finger in his sensitive hole.
Vicky kept wiggling and twirling it, knowing that such stimulation will cause
new loud farts the moment she withdraws her finger. She did it without notice,
satisfied with the results: a big bubble erupting out of Jimmy's poop hole.
"You seem to
need some help with keeping your little hole shut," she told the
embarrassed boy, pushing her finger in again.
Jimmy cringed at
the unpleasant invasion. He felt helpless and vulnerable: left naked and held
by a much older girl, who touched him anywhere she wanted penetrating his most
private places, no one, even his mom, dared to touch.
"Calm down,
baby. It doesn't hurt," Vicky told him with a sweet smile, wiggling her
finger around. She was contemplating withdrawing and inserting it again to
enjoy Jimmy's reaction. It is the moment of penetration, that causes the most
discomfort. Though it also evokes the strong urge to poop - something she
definitely wanted to avoid now.
"Let's turn
around," Vicky reluctantly withdrew her finger from Jimmy's butt and
turned his weightless naked body to face away from her, putting her hand
between his legs and holding him like moms hold their infants. Except there was
no diaper, and Vicky's hand cupped Jimmy's boy parts.
She chuckled upon
discovering his cute stiffie, no doubt caused by her recent anal ministrations.
"You weigh
nothing in the water. Ever thought you could just sit on one's hand?"
Vicky couldn't help playing with his ticklish balls, rewarded by furious leg
kicking.
"Hold still.
You are scaring the fish. By the way... let's make sure you don't scare any
with your farts." She giggled and quickly inserted her big finger into
Jimmy's puckered hole, keeping the other four on his balls and willy.
"Let's go a
little further. Calm down. It's safe. I am holding you. With just one hand. Or
better said finger." She giggled. "The trick is to know, where to
place it, right?"
She wiggled the
finger inside his butt following by gently tickling his sensitive balls with
other fingers. The sharp tickle made Jimmy kick his legs and nearly jump out of
the water.
"OK, since
you are so eager to swim, let me teach you," Vicky told the boy, putting
him into a horizontal position. She kept her big finger in his butt, using the
other four to tickle his balls. "Ready? Hold your breath and put your face
in the water... Let's do it again. Only now you need to exhale, making
bubbles... Good! Let's see how long you can hold your breath underwater. I'm
gonna count. Ready. Set. Go! One! Two! Three! Four! Five! Not bad for a first
timer."
Jimmy proudly
looked at her. It was a lot of fun. He almost forgot she was still holding her
finger in his butt.
"And as for
swimming, it's just treading water," she explained to the boy. "Come
on!"
Vicky reasserted
her authority by wiggling her finger in his butt.
"Kick your
legs and move your arms, silly!" she told the boy, tickling his balls.
"Here we go! That's what I'm talking about!"
She could care
less to teach him swim. It was her excuse to manipulate Jimmy's boy parts under
the cover of water. She experimented with different ticklish spots to make him
kick his legs. Not just the back of his round sack and the sensitive area
between it and his poop hole. She explored the tip of his willy, delicate groin
folds and even the smooth hairless pubic area.
Vicky did it to
every boy, she babysat, when she brought them to the beach. At least she never
viciously masturbated them in the water, like some of her friends, bragging
about their mad skills to give little boys prolonged "wigglies", an
unofficial babysitter's rite of passage.
One claimed that
she was able to keep a six year old climaxing for half an hour, until he passed
out. Then, after the poor kid regained consciousness, he was subjected to
prolonged scrotal tickling and willy nub rubs, making him repeatedly lose
control of his bladder and even bowels. Until he passed out again. Vicky
enjoyed tickling boys to make them pee, but she never subjected anyone to such
torture.
"Wanna try
something different?" she asked Jimmy, withdrawing a finger from his butt.
"Do you know, that you can just lie on your back without doing anything?
You won't drown. Yes, I am serious. You don't need to tread water. Just lie
still with your arms and legs apart. Like a starfish. Remember Patrick?"
She gently laid
Jimmy on his back, supporting him with one hand.
"Ready? I am
going to let go for a second. Let's see if the water can support you... Oh,
come on. You need to be absolutely still to float. Let's try it again. I am
here. Just trust me, OK? You won't drown."
She let go for
two second, watching Jimmy panic and helplessly tread water.
"You need to
completely relax and let the water support you," Vicky told the boy after
bringing him back to surface. "Make a star. Good boy!"
She pushed on
Jimmy's soft butt to raise his tummy out of the water. Then some more to reveal
his willy. It was still stiff - pointing straight up. Vicky smiled at the cute
infantile erection. The tiny thing was so adorable. Why didn't her smartwatch
had a camera to snap a picture?
"Lookie what
we got here!" she giggled, flicking the boy's pee-pee. "Is that a
ship mast? A submarine periscope? Or just one little boy's weenie?"
Jimmy giggled at
her references, but abruptly stopped, realizing he cannot laugh at baby jokes
about his willy. Only two year olds do.
"Why it is
pointing up like this?" Vicky asked, watching the boy's face getting red.
"You know why, don't you?" She gently rolled the little twig in her
fingers. "What happens when little boys strain their willies? No clue,
huh? Pee fountains happen! Is that what you wanna show me? Guess doing it on
the changing table wasn't enough."
"Yup!"
someone laughed behind her. "You are about to see a baby whale."
Vicky turned her
head back, noticing a pretty girl a couple years older than her.
"I meant
with his little pickle like that we are about to see the baby whale's
fountain," the girl explained. "Every boy's favorite pastime."
Both girls burst
into laughter, sending hot waves over Jimmy's already red face.
"What an
adorable little brother you have!" the girl told Vicky.
"He's just a
neighbor. Moved in today."
"So lucky! I
don't have cute neighbors like him. What's your name, sweetie pie?"
"Jimmy..."
the boy said meekly.
"Great to
meet you, little Jimmy! I am Ashley," the girl introduced herself.
"Vicky."
"They are so
much cuter when they blush."
"He's very shy."
"Just the
way I like my boys."
Ashley moved
closer and patted Jimmy's tummy, proceeding to casually flick his willy.
"Gonna make
a fountain for us?" she asked Jimmy "Like a baby whale?"
Jimmy tried to
cover himself, but Ashley moved his hands away.
"Your
favorite toy, huh?" she giggled. "Well, since we are not gonna see a
baby whale's fountain, how about jumping out of the water. Whales do it a lot.
Wanna try? Can I?"
"Of
course," Vicky let her new friend take the boy.
Jimmy frowned at
being handed to a complete stranger like a toddler. But Ashley's game turned
out to be fun: weightlessness, splashes... No one tossed him in the air like
that. Probably not since he was three years old, which he couldn't remember.
"Wait a second..." He was being tossed like a toddler. Naked. So they
could watch his bouncing willy and make fun of it.
"What's
wrong, little one?" Ashley asked the boy. "Why such pouty lips? Tired
of jumping? Let's take a break." She held Jimmy in her arms, like he was
her son.
Ashley suddenly
smiled, enlightened by a new idea.
"Excuse
me," she asked one of the moms nearby. "Is that you swimming
ring?"
"Yeah, it's
ours," the young woman replied.
"You are not
using it at the moment, are you? Can I borrow it for five minutes?"
"Sure.
Actually... We are about to go back. Just bring it to me after you're done. See
that big umbrella?" the woman pointed at the shore.
"The white
one?"
"Yep."
"OK. Thanks
a lot."
"No problem.
Have fun!" the woman smiled, starting to walk towards the beach.
"Let's put
him in," Ashley said. "Here we go. Much better. This ring is perfect
for him. Not too small. Not too big. Just right."
Vicky smirked
noticing Ashley's hand move towards the boy's butt. She knew why her new friend
borrowed the ring. Swim rings were very convenient for rendering the boy
helpless since he couldn't reach down with his hands or even see what was
happening to his lower body and legs.
A lot of
different things could happen. Done by the mom, big sister, or babysitter. All
the boy could do was helplessly kick his legs while their fingers penetrated
his hiney or played with his sensitive package.
"Such a cute
round bottom," Ashley caressed Jimmy's butt with her hand, proceeding to
grab both of his feet with another one.
Vicky watched her
bend Jimmy's legs and bring them up. She knew what was going to happen next.
"Shh! Don't
be scared. Here we go."
Vicky felt sorry
for Jimmy seeing his surprised and frightened look. But didn't her own finger
visit the same place not so long ago? Let Ashley play too.
Little boys lived
on the island with their moms, but in reality they belonged to the entire
"community". It was customary to let other women, including complete
strangers, not only admire the boy naked, but also "pet" him - like
someone would pet a cute puppy or kitten.
The problem, at
least for Jimmy, was everyone playing with kittens differently. Unlike Vicky
who mostly held her finger in his butt, Ashley wasn't gentle at all. She
unceremoniously probed around causing extremely unpleasant sensations. Until
she found one spot, that instantly made Jimmy's willy super-stiff and sent
tingles to the very tip, like he was about to pee. He never felt anything like
that before. He couldn't call it pain. Just a very intense and unpleasant
sensation.
"He likes
you a lot!" Vicky giggled, noticing the state of Jimmy's twig in the clear
water.
"I
know," Ashley nodded with a smile, "The little fella between his legs
can't lie."
The girls
laughed, making Jimmy blush upon realizing they were making fun of his pee-pee.
"Oopsie!"
Ashley withdrew her finger and quickly reinserted it again, causing Jimmy to
shudder and kick his legs. "Love when they do it." She repeated her
in and out motion.
Jimmy stifled a
cry. The repeating insertions became unbearable, especially when Ashley
increased the pace. Vicky didn't like Ashley's ministrations a single bit. Her
new friend looked like the kind of babysitter who'd "wiggly" a boy
until he faints. Though there was an unwritten code not to interfere unless
someone caused your boy real physical pain.
"Could you
hold his legs please, so he doesn't kick?" Ashley asked Vicky.
"Why? What
you wanna do to him?"
"Check
something," Ashley winked at Vicky. "You babysit him, right?"
"Sort of. If
changing a pair of wet pants counts as babysitting."
"Did you
notice if his foreskin retracts all the way?"
"When I was
wiping his willy? Sorry I didn't check. I was busy avoiding his pee
spurts."
"I can
imagine!" Ashley giggled.
"I guess it
does," Vicky shrugged her shoulders. "It should at his age, shouldn't
it?
"Let's see.
Would you hold him for me please?"
"OK,"
Vicky took a hold of Jimmy's legs.
"A-aah!
Stop! It hurts!" the boy screamed.
"No, it
doesn't!" Ashley told him. "Stop fussing!"
"Boys hate
having their little hood open."
"Don't I
know that? Hold him still... A little more..."
Vicky gauged the
distance to the blanket, Jimmy's mom was sitting on. She could barely see her,
having walked quite a distance into the shallow lagoon to get to the shoulder-deep
water. Vicky wasn't particularly happy with Ashley's manipulations of Jimmy's
boy parts, but at least no one would hear his cries. She knew Ashley was doing
something naughty... and just let her. She was strangely aroused by her
friend's ministrations. What if she prepared Jimmy for the
"wigglies"?
"Gotcha!"
Ashley smiled with satisfaction. "Super-tight, but fully opens. Don't tell
me, you've never done it to a boy."
"I do
sometimes. When I bath them. Though I can't do it alone. Someone needs to hold
the kid. Boys can't stand even the lightest touch to their little worm, when
it's open. Not to mention washing it with soap makes them pee."
"Well, the
reaction depends... On where you touch."
"Are you
talking about..." Vicky paused, overwhelmed by guilt and excitement.
"...wigglies?"
"What
else?" Ashley winked at her. "Wait a second... You've never wigglied
a single boy you babysat? Want me to show you, how it's done?"
"OK,"
Vicky nodded shyly.
"Actually...
How selfish of me. You should do it. You said he just arrived on the
island?"
"Yesterday.
Why?"
"With a
foreskin this tight... Looks like we've got a virgin. You are his babysitter,
so you should pop his cherry. Don't worry, I'll teach you."
Jimmy had no idea
what "virgin" and "cherry" meant, but that girl was no
doubt planning something horrible. He looked at the shore, trying to find his
mom. She seemed so far away.
"Alright..."
Ashley looked around, making sure there was no one nearby. "Come
here."
She switched
places with Vicky.
"First you
need to properly anchor him, so he won't float away," Ashley giggled.
"You want me
to put a finger..."
"Yes, in
there. It'll make things much quicker. Let me hold his legs." Ashley
spread and raised Jimmy's legs making him part his buttocks.
Vicky traced her
index finger between them, until she found Jimmy's little hole. She felt for
the boy, but couldn't help enjoying his frightened look.
"Oops! I did
it again!" she forced her finger in.
"Look at
him, Ashley giggled, "Wanna call your mommy, little one?"
Vicky kept her
finger in Jimmy's butt, awaiting further instructions.
"Turn your
finger, so it's pointed forward... Aww, poor baby. Are you gonna cry now? ...
And find... I can't really describe it... Feels like a bump."
"I'm not
sure. Seems like it..."
"Oh you
surely found it!"
"How do you
know?"
"Look at his
twig."
"Geezus. You
mean my finger makes it dance like that?"
"Yep. Keep
pressure on his bump. Rub it with your finger. Hold on... Let me grab his legs
differently, so I can hold them with one hand."
Ashley crossed
Jimmy's ankles and pushed his legs further up and apart. The boy tried to break
free, only to feel defeated and vulnerable. Ashley firmly held his legs, while
Vicky's finger rhythmically moved inside his butt causing strange tingling at
the very tip of his willy.
"You know
how many kicking and screaming little boys I've babysat?" Ashley asked
Jimmy with a condescending smile. "Stop fighting, and you might actually
enjoy it."
Jimmy quivered,
feeling the stranger's fingers take a hold of his sensitive willy.
"Still open.
Good!" Ashley smiled. "I'm gonna make sure his little buddy's hood
stays down. All you need to do is rub the tip."
"I
dunno..." Vicky hesitated. "I really wanna try. But what if he tells
his mom?"
"Yeah? And
what exactly he's gonna tell her? He has no idea what's happening to him. No
one's gonna listen to him anyway. Stick to your story. Tell her he sprung a
fountain when you played with him and you made sure he thoroughly pees in the
water before bringing him back. To avoid accidents when he's lying on the
blanket enjoying the sun."
"What if he
faints?"
"No one
does. Come on. Wigglies are good for boys. Keep rubbing the magic spot in his
bum. Now put your other hand under him and find the pointy nub of his
pee-pee."
A jolt surged
through Jimmy's body, like someone touched his willy with an electric wire.
"Don't
worry, I'm holding his legs. He's not going anywhere. Start rubbing the
tip."
"His pee
slit?"
"Yeah. Apply
some pressure. Try to open it a little. Good! Move a little lower and rub the
tiny bridle underneath the slit. But not the top of his nub, or he'll pee. Come
on, girl. Work it a little harder. I can tell by his strained pickle, we're
almost there. And don't stop rubbing the bump in his butt. Do you feel him
tighten his little hole around your finger."
"Oh yeah."
"Ah-ha-ha. Let's
start the countdown. 5, 4, 3, 2..."
Jimmy sharply
exhaled and kicked his legs, still firmly held by Ashley.
"Holy
shit!" Vicky gasped. "His whole body is shaking. And the hole. Is it
supposed to pulsate like that? Is that the wigglies?"
"Congratulations!
I wish I could take a picture. Both of you look so funny now. You're as
surprised, as him."
"Well, if I
knew what to expect..."
"Now you
know. By the way, keep wigglying him."
"Isn't he
like... done already?"
"Id doesn't
matter. You can wiggly him as long, as you want. Preteen boys don't produce
any... hmm, milk, so they can be kept in this state for a very long time. Give
him another one. Did his hole start to pulsate again?"
"Not yet.
But I think... Oh my gosh, this time it's even more intense. He's like having a
seizure."
"Gets better
with every time, huh? Though the real fun actually starts right after the
wigglies."
"What do you
mean?"
"Try to
touch the top part of his nub now. Just touch. Don't rub it yet."
"Oh my gosh!
Is he peeing? From a single touch. I feel something warm."
"The
wigglies make boys extremely sensitive to tickle. Try to rub the same spot
now."
"The one
above his slit?"
"Yes."
"Gezus! He's
going to jump out of the water. And is obviously peeing again."
"Now that's
what I call fun! You can also tickle his balls, you know."
"You read my
mind," Vicky's fingers touched Jimmy's shriveled sack, instantly making
the boy release a stream of pee. "Unbelievable. I can't even touch him,
that sensitive he is. I gotta stop. Seriously. I don't want him to pass
out."
"Trust me,
he's far from passing out. He never will if you alternate: tickling different
spots. The exposed nub... Here you go. Now his jewels... Behind them - every
boy's most vulnerable spot... Poor baby! Pee some more for us... The lower
tummy is pretty sensitive too... Good boy! You just love peeing, don't you? A
li-itle more. All done? Rub his pee slit to see if anything comes out. Did you
feel him peeing? No? Let's cover it then."
"Geez,
Ashley, we really drained him. And look how he's shaking. Poor Jimmy. It's
over, baby. No more tickling... Well, until you need to tinkle again. Which I
am sure your mom is gonna make you do soon."
Vicky removed her
finger from Jimmy's butt and carefully freed him of the swimming ring,
immediately taking the boy in her arms. She held him under his butt, making the
boy wrap her waist with his legs: still shaking with his stiff willy poking her
stomach.
The tingling
inside Vicky's crotch was unbearable. She wouldn't mind if someone wigglied her
too.
"Stand
still, girl," Ashley asked her suddenly. "And spread your legs a
little... You know, for better balance, since you are holding someone so
heavy."
Older and more
experienced Ashley seemed to read Vicky's mind.
"He's not
heavy at all," Vicky argued "Especially in the water."
"Shh! You
need better balance anyway."
"OK,"
Vicky giggled, getting a clue. "But what if he..."
"Don't
worry. Just stand still and hold your precious bundle of joy."
Jimmy was curious
about Ashley's ministrations behind his back, but Vicky made him rest his head
on her shoulder. Now he couldn't even see her face to guess what was going on.
At least Ashley wasn't doing it to him.
Vicky found
Jimmy's little hole and started to caress it with her finger, occasionally
stroking his balls. She kept doing it, making him squirt warm liquid into her
stomach, while Ashley pulled down her bikini bottom and started rubbing her
engorged pleasure button.
"A-ah"
Vicky groaned.
It took Ashley
mere seconds to bring her to climax.
"It's OK,
sweetie," Vicky whispered in Jimmy's ear. "Nothing's happened. Oh my
gosh... Aaa-ah, I love you so much!"
She tightly hugged
the boy.
"Easy,
girl," Ashley chuckled. "You'll crush him."
"How...
aah... Jimmy, do you know how pretty you are?" Vicky needed to keep
talking. Otherwise she'd have completely lost her mind... "You're my
favorite little boy in the world."
"Mine too!"
Ashley withdrew her finger from the tightened Vicky's slit and pulled her
panties up. "Need any help babysitting him?"
"Uhm... an
extra pair oh hands is always welcome... Especially such skilled hands. You
know, I can also try..."
"Not right
now. His mom is probably wondering where you are. And that nice lady is waiting
for her son's swimming ring. I'll call you, OK?"
Vicky felt
Ashley's smartwatch bump against hers, followed by a soft confirmation tone of
the exchanged contact info.
"Let's do
something fun tomorrow."
"Sounds
good. And... thanks again. That was very... educational."
"I can teach
you a lot of things about little boys. Have you ever played a "machine
gun" with one?"
"What?"
"A machine
gun. His cute bum would be perfect for it. Clean him up with a couple of enemas
and stuff his hole with a dozen of grapes or cherries. Dipped in shampoo or
liquid soap. Keep him like this for a minute: on his back with the legs up in
the air. Buns tightly pressed together."
"Until I see
he like really needs to go?"
"Yeah. Wait
until he cannot take it anymore and tickle his balls. And right when he starts
peeing... simply release his butt. He'll shoot the grapes out of it. Really
far."
"I can
imagine!" Vicky giggled.
"I'll teach
you. You can't call yourself a babysitter until you played it with your boys.
Gotta go now! Bye, little angel!" Ashley patted Jimmy's butt. "And
you, pretty girl. It's so unfair, you got such a cutie living next door."
"Bye,
Ashley!"
Ashley took the
swim ring and headed towards the big white umbrella on the beach.
Vicky went ashore
too, returning Jimmy to his mom. The boy did try to complain about the
unpleasant ministrations he endured in the water, but Ashley was right: no one
believed him. Vicky calmly told her story: how she met Ashley and they played
with Jimmy, splashing the water and tossing him in the air. Until he peed.
"You mean
when he was out of the water?" Laura winced. "Like... on you?"
"On
Ashley."
"Did you do
it on purpose?" Laura asked her son after giving him a loud smack on his
bare butt.
"I
didn't!" Jimmy burst out in tears. "She's lying!"
"Couldn't
you tell Vicky you needed to tinkle? So she'd take you to the bushes?"
Laura continued, completely ignoring her son's cries. "What did I teach
you today? Always tell adults when you need to pee and poop."
Jimmy wept and
tried to argue, but his fed up mother just slapped his butt again to shut him
up.
"It wasn't
bad, you know," Vicky said, trying to diffuse the situation. "Little
boys always do it in the water. I just positioned him away from me and made
sure he pees everything out. I tried to be gentle, but considering how ticklish
he is... Boys don't like that kind of help: to do their potty business."
"That's it?
That's what he's complaining about?" Laura sighed. "Being made to
pee?"
"Yeah,"
Vicky nodded. "He's probably upset, that Ashley helped a bit too."
"Should have
thanked Vicky and her friend for making you do your little boy's business at
the appropriate time," Laura told Jimmy. "So you won't wet anything
here."
She turned to
Vicky.
"I'm so
sorry about him, honey. How can I possibly thank you for taking such a good
care of my son?"
Jimmy couldn't
believe his mom take the mean girl's side. No one believed him here. He was
nothing, but a mindless toddler even to his mom. No one listens to
toddlers.
"Let's help
Danny build his sand castle," Vicky told Jimmy, pulling his hand.
"Are these yours?" She pointed at the brightly colored plastic bucket
and shovel. "Come on!"
Vicky took Jimmy
to the two year old poking the sand with his tiny shovel.
"Alright...
Fill your bucket, Jimmy," she told the eight year old boy. "Show
Danny what he needs to do. That's it. He got it. Stay here. I'm gonna bring
some water."
Jimmy was still
upset at Vicky, not to mention embarrassed of being naked, but her sweet smile
quickly made him forget the terrible things she did to him in the water. The
castle turned out great. Vicky knew a thing or two about building them.
"Look at
these two cuties!" Jimmy suddenly heard behind his back.
He looked up,
noticing two 12 year old girls staring at him.
"So
adorable! Let me snap a picture."
One of the girls
took a step back and pointed her phone at Jimmy, prompting him to cover his boy
parts.
"What did
your mommy tell you about touching your pee-pee?" Vicky forcibly moved
Jimmy's hands away from his crotch.
"Aww, look
at him blush!" the girl on the left smiled, making Jimmy's face redder.
"Is your brother always that shy? The little one doesn't seem to
mind."
"Is that OK
if I take pictures of them?" the one holding her phone asked Vicky.
"Sure!"
Vicky nodded. "Take as many, as you want. Come here, Danny. And you,
Jimmy... Where is your smile? You were so happy building this castle. What
happened, honey? Come on. Everybody say cheese!"
Vicky made both
boys pose for pictures. The giggling 12 year old wasn't satisfied, until she
took several.
"Could you
make his little brother stand next to him? How about making both of them get on
all four? Make them arch their backs and stick their cute bums out. Perfect!
Let me find the right angle... Legs apart, so I can catch their cute pink
packages... Oh my gosh! Look! The little one's got a stiffie. So cute! Lay him
on his back. Yeah, like that, so his tiny thing is pointing straight up.
Thanks! I bet this one will get a hundred thousand likes."
Jimmy felt like
his face was on fire. Seemed like the requests to turn left and right, stick
out his tummy, and present his willy would never stop.
"Wanna shoot
a video too?" Vicky asked with a hint of sarcasm.
"Can
I?"
"Of course.
It'll probably get a million likes... What do you want them to do?"
"Could they
like..." the girl paused for a couple of second, thinking. "…jump up
and down?"
"Jimmy! Come
here and show Danny how to jump. Come on! Just jump! Hey! Did you hear what I
tell you? I wonder if Ashley has left already. Maybe we can go for a swim
again..."
"Who's
Ashley?" the girl on the left wondered, noticing a frightened look in
Jimmy's eyes.
"A
friend," Vicky said casually. "So... Are you gonna jump or we're
going for a swim? Here you go!"
"So
funny!" the other girl giggled, keeping her phone pointed at the jumping
boys. "Look at their bouncing willies!"
"I didn't
tell you to stop!" Vicky raised her voice, looking at Jimmy. "Would
you clap your hands every time you jump? Yeah, like that. Good boy!"
"Can they
squat and do a duck walk?" the girl with a phone asked. "Make a pass
around their castle?"
"You heard
the girl, Jimmy!" Vicky pushed on the boy's shoulder, making him squat.
"You too, Danny. That's my boy! Now walk like little ducklings."
"Oh my gosh!
Too funny!" the girl with a phone burst in laughter. "The best video
ever! That's enough, boys. You can get up now." She turned to Vicky.
"Thank you so much for letting me take pictures and video of your little
brothers."
"They are
not."
"Nephews?"
"Nope. I'm
just watching them at the beach."
"I see.
What's your email? I'll send you a link to my album. By the way, I am
Bianca." the girl with a phone introduced herself."
"Sabrina,"
her friend smiled.
"Nice to
meet you. I'm Vicky."
"So you are
babysitting them?" Sabrina asked Vicky.
"Helping his
mom." Vicky nodded at Jimmy. "Mostly in the wet pants
department."
"You're
talking about the younger one, right?" Bianca gave Vicky a confused look.
"Nope, this
one," Vicky pointed at Jimmy.
"How old is
he? Like seven?"
"Eight."
"And still
wets his pants?" Bianca stifled a giggle.
"He did two
hours ago," Vicky confirmed. "Right in front of me. Then peed several
times when I was changing him."
"Seriously?
An eight year old?"
"Boys do it
quite often," Vicky told the two girls. "Gotta stay alert when
changing one."
"I
know," Bianca giggled. "Baby boys love peeing during diaper changes.
So cute watching them squirt."
"Want me to
give you a call next time I need to change his wets pants? So you can come and
shoot a video of him peeing on the changing table."
All three girls
burst in laughter.
"I may
actually take you up on that," Bianca told Vicky.
"Can I come
too?" Sabrina asked. "Wanna see it so bad!"
"An eight
year old peeing up all over himself?" Bianca giggled. "Would be so
funny."
"It is. But
considering you need to wipe him again... everything he sprayed: the legs,
butt, tummy, not to mention his boy package... With a high possibility of
another pee fountain, when you start putting the diaper rash cream on his balls
and willy... A lot of work, you know."
"Why boys
give their moms and babysitters so much trouble?" Sabrina sighed.
"Did he try to get you with he? On purpose?"
"At that
age? Are you kidding me?" her friend giggled. "Of course he did it on
purpose."
"I've
babysat a few older than him," Vicky told the girls. "Nine and even
ten year olds. It's like a game to them."
"Wait a
second... Are you saying you changed them? Because they wet themselves?"
"You have no
idea. Several accidents daily. Including messy ones."
"Eeew!"
both 12 year olds giggled in mock disgust.
"You're
gonna see it a lot around here." Vicky smiled. "When did you come to
Arianna's?"
"A week ago.
Why? Is it that obvious?"
"Yeah. By
your lack of tan." Vicky lied to the girls with a sweet smile.
Tan had nothing
to do with spotting FOPs (Fresh Off the Plane): naïve 12 year olds, who
typically came during the summer break to get enough time to settle on the
island before the middle school start in September. Which was the first time
some of the new arrivals learned about the "correction". Though the
majority typically discovered the specific "boy reflexes" on their
own.
Vicky didn't want
to ruin the 12 year olds surprise. It was an unwritten code among the older
girls to never explain the ETB program to the fresh arrivals, robbing them of
the fun of discovering things on their own.
"Boys are
notoriously difficult to potty train. Even at that age," Vicky sighed
matter-of-factly. "I do my best to get my kids to pee and poop in the
potty."
"So... did
he get you when you were changing him?" Bianca nodded at Jimmy.
"With his
pee? I know better than stand in the "splash zone"! And it's easy to
tell, when a boy is about to spring a fountain. Just watch for the signs, and
even the most conniving little sprayer won't take you by surprise."
"What
signs?" Bianca wondered.
"They always
strain their little pickles when they are about to pee," Vicky explained,
raising Jimmy's flaccid willy with one finger to imitate an erection."
Both 12 year olds
giggled, making Jimmy's face red. Vicky smiled with delight. It was war after
he complained to his mom. She was determined to make his face much redder. And
very skilled at humiliating boys his age.
"Is that
your truck?" Bianca kneeled next to Jimmy. "Let's fill it with sand.
No, not here. How about over there? It'll be our sand quarry."
She intentionally
moved the toy truck away from Jimmy to make him reach for it. Providing her the
opportunity to pat his cute round bottom.
"What?"
Bianca put on an innocent look after caressing Jimmy's butt. "Fill your
truck, sweetie."
Vicky watched the
two FOPs with a smile. Sabrina seemed somewhat reserved, while Bianca was
completely uninhibited, using every chance to touch the naked boys crawling in
the sand around her. She started with patting their butts and poking the
tummies, soon letting her fingers explore other interesting spots: mainly
between the boys legs. As expected, Jimmy got more attention, than Danny. Every
Bianca's touch made a shy eight year old blush, providing endless entertainment
for her and Sabrina. Both immensely enjoyed embarrassing him with endless
comments about his red face, questions about his wet and messy accidents, and
giggling comparisons of his boy bits with Danny's.
It didn't take
long for Sabrina to figure out what her friend was doing and she started to
play along, touching the boys all over their naked bodies. The truck game
turned into crawling around the castle with stops to collect and dump the sand.
The girl in front of the boy kept him distracted with "operating" the
toy truck, while the one behind quickly snuck up and poked his butt hole or
tickled the little sack dangling between the boy's legs, while her friend
"accidentally" trapped his hands.
Two year old
Danny couldn't understand what the girls were doing to him, but red-faced Jimmy
was noticeably upset with their ministrations. The sudden touch always took him
by surprise, making him flinch. Bianca even managed to get Jimmy to pass gas by
repeatedly poking his little hole with her finger. Jimmy awkwardly apologized,
making the girls laugh.
7. The Bushes
"Who are
those girls?" Laura wondered, watching her son.
"Vicky
always makes new friends at the beach," Monica told her.
"She's so
good with kids," Laura commended Vicky's babysitting skills. "Look at
them happily play in the sand."
Jimmy wasn't
happy at all, but he didn't know what to complain about. Everything around
seemed more or less appropriate. For a two years old, like Danny. Which
everyone here assumed him to be as well.
"Their
moms?" Sabrina asked pointing at the two women approaching the sand
castle.
Vicky nodded.
"Probably going to take them to the bushes."
"To
pee?" Bianca giggled. "About time. Look at their willies."
"I noticed
that too," Sabrina said. "That's the sign you were talking
about?"
"Yep,"
Vicky confirmed with a smile. "It means only one thing, when little boys
stick out their willies like that."
She had no
intention of telling the two FOPs, that it was their tickling of the boys'
sensitive balls, that caused Jimmy's and Denny's infantile erections. And
surely a strong urge to pee.
"What I
thought," Irene smirked, pointing at her son's stiffie. "Let's go to
the bushes, honey." She picked up her two year old son and turned to
Laura. "I think yours needs to visit the bushes too."
"Don't you
think I noticed?" Laura sighed. "Should have taken him there already.
A little embarrassing... letting such young girls see him like that."
"Like they
haven't seen little boys' stiffies before," Irene laughed. "Come
on!"
"Do you need
to make tinkles, honey?" Laura asked her son, making his face crimson.
"Let's go to the bushes."
"I... don't,"
Jimmy mumbled.
"Come
on!" his mom didn't take a "no" for an answer. "Little
Danny is going there too. You'll have fun watering the bushes together."
Jimmy frowned,
offended by his mom's babytalk. Couldn't she ask about such private things
discreetly? Instead of humiliating him in front of the two new girls.
"Mom! I
really don't..." Jimmy tried to keep the conversation neutral: without
referring to the infantile activity his mom insisted on.
"Why to even
ask him?" Irene gave Laura a frustrated look. "A boy would never tell
you until the last moment. Just grab him and go."
"You are
right," Laura agreed. "Jimmy! Get up and come with me!"
She yanked his
hand, making her son stand up.
"I don't
wanna!" Jimmy broke out in tears.
"And I don't
want you to pee in the sand other kids may build their castles of," Laura
told him. "Or pee your pants again. Stop fussing, honey! You know you need
to go number one. You can't make your little buddy lie for you, can you?"
She pointed at
his strained willy, making the girls giggle.
"I saw how
much you enjoyed playing with your truck. Make your tinkles and return to your
game."
"Yes, go
with your mommy and make tinkles, little one!" Bianca giggled. "We
don't want you to tinkle here, playing with us."
Laura dragged her
son by his hand towards the area unofficially designated for little kids potty
business, known as "the bushes".
"Don't
wanna!" Jimmy kept wailing. "Don't wanna be here! I wanna go
home!!"
"We will
soon. Another reason why I need you to do your little boy's business: so you
won't pee your pants on our way home."
"But I don't
need to! Please, mom! I really don't!" the crying boy pleaded.
"Mommies
know best, when their little ones need to go potty!" Irene looked back at
him with a condescending smile.
A few stifled
giggles made Jimmy's face redder. He was at the center of everyone's attention
again.
"About time
your mom took you to the bushes," a young woman sitting on the blanket
nearby told Jimmy.
"Judging by
his little twig?" the 16-something girl next to her giggled. "Most
definitely!"
"Put your
hands away! Stop touching your willy!" Laura smacked her son's hands and
then his bare butt, making him cry louder.
The slap was
rather loud, than hard, but Jimmy didn't want another one. It was so unfair.
What did he do to deserve it? Being humiliated in front of the two girls,
marched through a busy beach naked with everyone staring at his stiffie... and
now spanked on his bottom like a fussy toddler.
The worst was yet
to come. He knew his mom was not taking him to a restroom. But he expected more
or less normal "bushes" one could hide behind. Not a few patches of
tall grass, that barely covered his knees.
"So those
are the bushes," Laura chuckled. "Should he make his tinkles on one
of them?"
"It's a bit
more civilized than that," Irene explained with a smile. "The kids do
their business into that concrete trench. Then you turn on the water to wash
the stuff away."
"A toilet of
sorts. Come here, Jimmy."
"Mom, I
don't nee...."
"You do and
you will!" Laura cut him off. "I don't wanna hear another word from
you. Stand here, at the edge of the trench. Nuh-uh! No covering and no touching
anything between your legs! I'm gonna aim your pee-pee."
She took a hold
of her son's tiny twig pointing it into the trench.
"Now be a
good boy and do your tinkles."
Jimmy blushed a
brighter shade of red. Did she seriously expect him to pee on command? Talking
to him like a mindless toddler? While holding his willy? As if standing naked
in front of her and quite a few other moms wasn't bad enough.
"Pss, pss...
Come on, Jimmy! Look at little Danny. He's already peeing. I thought it'd be
you showing a two year old how big boys do it."
"I thought
so too," Irene snickered at Jimmy. "Instead of the little one teaching
yours how to pee. Let's show him, Danny, shall we?"
Irene
repositioned Danny in her arms and gently tickled the back of his boy's sack,
instantly making him squirt pee out of his willy.
"That's my
boy!" she praised her two year old son.
"Maybe I should
hold Jimmy in that position to get the results," Laura said. "Not
like you though: holding just one of Danny's legs. Looks so funny: letting him
kick it while he pees."
"Quite a
secure hold for toddlers," Irene explained. "A one-hand version of
the classic EC hold. A firm grip on the right thigh behind the knee, pushing
his leg all the way up. Supporting his back against my torso. He can't move his
body at all. Now, if I wanted him to do number two, I'd have held both of his
legs. While squatting down all the way: making his butt hang between my legs,
inches from the ground."
"That's what
I'm gonna do," Laura got behind her son. "Bend your knees,
Jimmy."
"But
mom!"
"I gave you
a chance to do your tinkles standing up, like a big boy. Since you refused, you
must want to be held like a baby, with your bottom hanging down."
She wrapped her
left arm around Jimmy's chest and put the right one behind his knees,
proceeding to pick him up in one smooth motion.
"Definitely
heavier than a two year old," Laura told Irene. "But not as bad, as I
expected. Let's just get lower to the ground."
Laura slowly
squatted, placing her son's naked body between her legs. She adjusted Jimmy's
knees, spreading them apart, both bent up against his chest and wrapped by her
right arm.
"Pss-pss..."
Laura used her free hand to feel the tender sack hanging between her son's
legs. "Every mommy knows how to make her little one tinkle. Right, honey?
Are you gonna make pee-pees for mommy?"
Laura stroked the
sensitive area behind Jimmy's balls, making him buck wildly in her arms. It
wasn't working. An eight year old was strong enough to knock her down by
furiously kicking, squirming, and arching his back pressed against her chest.
She needed to hold him with both hands.
"Can't
get him to pee?" Laura heard Vicky's voice behind her back.
She
smiled noticing her son flinch and turn red at the sound of the girl's voice.
To his dismay Vicky brought the girls, who played with him in the sand earlier.
"That's
how little ones do their potty business around here?" Bianca giggled,
jumping over the trench - followed by Sabrina.
Both
now stood in front of Jimmy on the other side of the trench, gazing at his
crotch. Beet-red with shame, he wanted to disappear in the thin air. No way
he'd pee while they are watching.
"Come
on, little one, make your tinkles." Sabrina smirked.
"He
seems to have forgotten what that little spigot between his legs is for,"
Bianca giggled pointing at Jimmy's crotch.
"Let's
try again," Laura said, reaching behind her son's balls.
Jimmy
kicked his legs and arched his back, making her stop, afraid to lose her
balance.
"Keep
still Jimmy!" she raised her voice. "And do your little boy's
business already! Makes me wonder too, if you've forgotten how to pee."
"Why
don't you hold him with both hands," Vicky suggested. "And I'll get
him to tinkle."
"Thanks!"
Laura repositioned Jimmy between her legs grabbing both of his thighs and
spreading them as wide, as she could.
"Nice
view!" Bianca giggled.
"How
are you gonna make him pee?" Sabrina asked Vicky.
"I'll
ask him nicely," Vicky replied with a smug smile, ripping two thick pointy
leaves off of a shrub-looking plant behind Laura. "I mean I'll let these
two leafs do the talking." She winked at Jimmy's mom.
Laura
braced herself for Jimmy's kicking and bucking. Having witnessed Vicky's expert
tickling skills, she knew what kind of agony the 14 year old girl is capable of
causing her son with the two leaves.
"Tinkle
time!" Vicky announced enthusiastically, squatting by Laura's side.
She
traced the back of Jimmy's ballsack with the pointy tip of one leaf, making the
boy tremble.
"How
about a nice baby boy's fountain?" Vicky added the second leaf, poking and
teasing the tiny opening in the wrinkled hood covering the tip of the boy's
willy: instantly erupted with a stream of pee. "Here we go! Don;t I know
how you like to show off your peeing skills?"
The
two 12 year olds stood with their mouths agape, watching the leaves dance all
over the boy's shriveled sack, causing new convulsive bursts out of his willy.
"Did
you just... tickle him?" Bianca wondered, having regained her ability to
speak.
"Yeah...
Boys his age are very sensitive. All it takes to get one to pee is knowing his
most ticklish spots. The back side of his little sack... See? And the area
behind it... Coochie-coochie-coo!"
"Never
seen a boy pee that hard!" Bianca pointed her phone at Jimmy. "Make
him pee again. Aww! It is so, so cute, when a little boy springs a fountain!
Gonna be an epic video!"
"Is
it just their balls?" Sabrina asked. "I saw you tickling his willy
too."
"The
little pickle is also very sensitive," Vicky explained. "Mainly the
tip."
She
took a hold of Jimmy's willy and started to rapidly scratch its tip with the
leaf, resulting in more convulsive peeing.
"And
of course the hole he pees from" the girl pushed the pointy leaf tip into
Jimmy's willy and started twirling it left and right.
"Aaaaaah!"
Jimmy let out an anguished cry, shaking and kicking his legs, as he
involuntarily strained and squirted several hard bursts of pee.
Laura
was getting tired of holding her son, though she decided to allow the girl to
continue her ministrations. Jimmy needed to learn his lesson.
"Let's
not forget the other hole. It's extremely sensitive too. Watch!" Vicky
withdrew the leaf from the boy's willy and used it to tease his anal opening.
Jimmy
responded with a loud fart, making the two 12 year olds giggle.
"Would
you like me to take care of the number two as well?" Vicky asked his mom.
"Since you brought him here."
"Worth
a try," Laura nodded.
"Gonna
tickle him too?" Bianca giggled. "Until he poops?"
"Yeah.
Just not with those leaves."
Vicky
looked around and picked up a tiny twig with a bud.
"Wish
I had shampoo or shower gel."
"My
mom bought some on our way here," Sabrina told Vicky.
"Could
you ask her? I just need a few drops."
"OK,"
Sabrina went to her mom, returning in a minute with a bottle of shower
gel."
"Now
we're in business," Vicky grinned, pouring a drop of the thick pinkish
liquid on her finger. "Let's thoroughly lubricate his little hole first.
See, how it puckers at the slightest touch? So sensitive... Alright, that's
enough. All you need to do now is work his hole with some tool," Vicky
explained to the girls, lubricating the twig with the shower gel. "In and
out... With a twist... Let's twirl it a bit more... Withdraw and insert
again... Poke and tickle his poopie hole..."
"Look
at him wiggle his bum! Are you still shooting your video, Bianca?"
"Yep!
Waiting for the big moment."
"Get
ready!" Vicky winked at Bianca.
She
kept poking and tickling Jimmy's butt hole with a twig, using her other hand to
tickle his balls. That was the last straw. Jimmy shuddered and squirted a jet
of pee, followed by loud pooping.
"Finally,"
Vicky sighed with a satisfied smile. "Wonder is that was it."
Vicky
poked the boy's hole again, making him poop more. The prolonged stimulation
made him completely lose control of his bladder and bowels.
"Got
that?" Vicky asked Bianca, laughing.
"On video?
Of course. Is he done?"
"Let's
see," Vicky pressed the twig bud to Jimmy's hole and started twirling it,
making the boy shudder and kick his legs. "Looks like he is," she
concluded after a minute of poking and twirling. "Though he didn't squirt
any pee out of his little spigot. That's typically the sign, that a boy's done
pooping."
"You can
make him," Sabrina shrugged her shoulders.
"Yeah, let's
make sure he's emptied his bladder. Boys never do... without help. I'm gonna
use my fingers this time... Tickle-tickle-tickle... Good boy! I knew you saved
some pee for us. How about another spurt? Here we go!"
Vicky picked up
the bottle of shower gel and poured some in her hand.
"Shower gel
and liquid soap are great for tickling little boys balls too," she
explained to the girls. "They make the tickle worse."
She cupped
Jimmy's shriveled sack with her soapy hand and started playing with his tiny
balls.
"Look at
that fountain! Now we are really trying!"
"Isn't he
shaking too much?" Sabrina wondered. "Looks like some sort of
seizure."
"Seizure or
not, you always need to completely drain the boy's bladder," Vicky
explained, mercilessly tickling Jimmy's balls. "Alright, looks like he's
done with number one too. Let's thoroughly wipe him," she took a baby wipe
out of a box conveniently left at "the bushes" by one of the moms.
"All done!"
"Thanks,
sweetie!," Laura got up and stood her son on the ground, "Gotta admit
you handled Jimmy much better, than me today. I'm sorry. I'm a little new to
this whole EC thing."
"No problem.
Let me hose his stuff into the trench."
"Thanks
again!" Laura took Jimmy's hand and started walking towards the showers.
She took her time
thoroughly rinsing her son, trying her best to clean him up without soap. He
needed a full bath, which Laura was anxiously looking forward to: the moment
Jimmy learns about the public bathing - by someone other than her.
"Wish I
could stay with you, girls, a bit longer," Laura told her new friends upon
returning to them, "Need to do some shopping. Come here, Jimmy. Let's get
you dressed."
Jimmy let out a
sigh of relief. Finally! They were leaving the worst beach in the world.
"Say goodbye
to everyone!" Laura instructed her son. "And thank Vicky for taking a
good care of you."
"Thank you,
Vick... Miss Vicky!"
"You are
still going to attend the bath?" Monica asked Laura.
"Of course I
am. He does need it after the beach."
"Just making
sure. Bye!"
Laura took
Jimmy's hand, heading to the bus stop.
"We're so
lucky to live on a tropical island, honey," she told him once they boarded
the bus. "Which means either me or your babysitter will be taking you to
the beach daily, if the weather permits. I know it's hard to adjust to the new
environment at your age, but you need to accept certain things. And start doing
what you're told. Especially when it comes to your potty business. I love you,
baby, but my patience is running low. Don't test it again."
8. Happy Shopping
"Mermaid
Lagoon Galleria" the bus voice announced.
Laura pressed the
stop button and took Jimmy's hand. They got off the bus and entered the huge
mall.
"How about
ice cream?" Laura pointed at the ice cream shop. The question was rather
rhetorical, especially asked to an eight year old.
They went in and
Laura got her son a generous three-scoop portion with all imaginable toppings:
sprinkles, chocolate chips, gummy bears, and pretty much anything else
available there. She also bought him a large decaf Pepsi.
Jimmy was
astounded by his mom's generosity. The ice cream was the first good thing that
happened to him on the island since they arrived yesterday. What gives? She
never let him drink Pepsi or Coke. Perhaps she was trying to make up for the
horrible things that happened to him at the beach.
Laura did want to
see her son happy: once in a while, between the mortifying accidents and other
embarrassing situations the ETB program required her to put him in. Treats like
ice cream and soda drinks were a win-win, taking the edge off Jimmy's non-stop
humiliation, while setting up his "pottytunities". She watched her
son gulp down his soda, knowing quite well where it'd end up.
She was thinking
up her next move. No restrooms for little boys on this island. Which left her
two choices. To lay him down on one of the changing tables in the mall's
hallway and tickle him to pee. Or to walk to a nice crowded spot at the first
sign of his urge to wet, and stay there for a few minutes watching him
struggle, until he pees himself in front of the giggling teenage girls. Maybe
he'd mess his pants too. Would be so much fun to watch his face change
different shades of red. Scold him of course, prompting the bystanders to make
humiliating remarks. And proceed to change him right there, on the nearest
bench, in front of the same giggling "audience": entertaining it with
a few pee fountains.
Whatever she was
going to subject Jimmy to, one thing was certain: he'd be ready for his next
"pottytunity" or accident in about 30-40 minutes - she planned to
spend visiting the mall stores, while keeping an eye on her son for fidgeting
and other signs of discomfort.
"All
done?" Laura picked up the tray to empty it into the trash bin.
"Let's go, honey. We have some shopping to do."
They left the ice
cream shop and walked towards the huge kids store. Laura chuckled, knowing,
that her son wouldn't like anything there. Not even the toys. Though she
couldn't help teasing him.
"Look at all
these toys!" she smiled enthusiastically. "Anything you like, honey?
How about this ring stacker?"
"Mom!"
Jimmy gave her a frustrated look. He didn't like her joke.
"What? I
thought you'd like it," Laura put on an innocent smile.
Jimmy knew better
than pointing out, that all of the crude brightly colored plastic things in
front of him were for toddlers. And labeled accordingly: "Ages 1-3".
Couldn't she see that?
"Alright,
you've got enough toys at home. Let's get other things." Laura said,
taking her son's hand.
The realization
of where she was taking him, made Jimmy blush. Please no! Not the diaper
section!
"Hmm... so
many choices," Laura chuckled, feeling Jimmy desperately trying to jerk
his hand out of hers.
He definitely did
not want to be seen with her in this section, shopping for diapers.
"These seem
to be your size," she teased her red-faced son. "Boy's diapers. Age:
7-8... What? Why you are looking at me like that. It's not a typo. They say
"years", not "months". And you do need diapers at the age
of eight, don't you? Do you like them, honey? So cute: Winnie the Pooh and the
Piglet... No? How about these: with cars and trucks. Alright... Since you can't
decide, why don't we buy both? See which ones fit you better."
"Is he a
heavy wetter?" a cute 18-something girl in the store uniform stopped by.
"These are light to medium duty. They may leak if he floods them at
once."
"Really?"
Laura was enjoying Jimmy's red face.
"There are
different kinds of diapers depending on the child's wetting habits. Some kids
wet as soon, as they feel the urge to pee, while many, especially boys, try to
hold it for as long, as they can, before soaking the diaper."
"Definitely
his case: holding until the last second."
"Then he'd
be better off wearing these," the girl handed Laura a different pack.
"How often he wets himself during the day?"
"About every
hour according to his hospital's wetting and messing chart," Laura
recalled.
"Oh
my!" the girl shook her head. "I thought he'd be somewhat
potty-trained by... eight?"
"Don't even
start..." Laura sighed, playing along.
She had a crush
on that blue-eyed button-nosed angel, who seemed to enjoy embarrassing eight-year
old boys as much, as she did.
"Get these
too. They are great at nighttime," the girl handed Laura another pack,
"By the way, you can have him try them on if you are unsure about the
fit."
"You let
customers try disposable diapers on their kids?"
"Of course.
Like any clothes," the girl shrugged her shoulders. "Except we
obviously discard the diaper after."
"I'm not an
environmentalist, but seems like a waste."
"Most moms
wouldn't let a free sample go to waste," the store girl winked at Laura.
"Are you
serious? You mean they like... have the kid test drive a diaper?" Laura
laughed.
"Fine with
us. It's going into the diaper pail anyway. Why not check it in action to make
sure it won't leak?"
Jimmy stood
frozen in disbelief. Trying on a diaper? Could it get any more humiliating?
"Let me
check if we have the samples of these," the girl said.
She went to the
row of changing tables by the store entrance and opened a few drawers.
"Ran
out," she told Laura, returning to her. "No problem, I'll open a new
pack." She took one from the shelf. "Come with me. Sorry, you'll have
to wait for a couple of minutes, since all changing tables are occupied."
Jimmy gasped,
realizing where moms had their kids try on diapers and regular clothes. The
store did not have a single fitting room. Boys his age were simply lifted on a
changing table and undressed in front of everybody like toddlers. Somewhat OK
to try on a t-shirt, but not their ridiculous tight pants worn without
underwear. Not to mention diapers.
"It's only
going to be a couple of minutes," the girl asked Laura, "I wish we
had one more changing table to diaper him on."
Laura was mulling
on the idea of "test driving" a diaper. Would be fun, but it'd spoil
her grand plan of staging a humiliating accident. And how she'd make her son
wet the diaper? By tickling his tummy? Sides? Feet? Since she'd have no access
to the most ticklish spots between his legs.
"How would I
make him wet the diaper?" she asked the girl.
"You mean
without tickling his boy parts? There are several ways. I am sorry, you seem to
be new to this."
"That
obvious, huh?" Laura chuckled. "There's a lot to learn indeed."
"Everyone
knows, that scrotal tickling makes little boys pee," the girl started to
explain. "But it's not the only way to make a boy let go. You can apply a
special ointment to the inside of the urethral opening: easy to do with a q-tip
even if your son's foreskin doesn't fully retract yet. Insert the cotton tip
just a tiny bit and twirl. You'd only have a couple of seconds after that to
pull up his diaper, before he floods it."
"Do you sell
that ointment?"
"Yes, at the
infant care section. Gotta warn you though. It causes the mild irritation of
the urethra, resulting in an unbearable urination urge. I'll make him completely
lose bladder control for the next couple of hours: wetting every few minutes.
Which typically requires diapers, though some moms and babysitters use such
ointment as a punishment, taking a boy for a walk or making him do physical
exercises, while peeing his pants non-stop. Another popular application is
nighttime swaddling, typically with laxative suppositories to make the boy wet
and mess himself all night long."
"Very
interesting."
"Do you
really want your son wetting himself for the next two-three hours? I'd just use
a tickling butt plug to make him soak a diaper. You're welcome to buy one to
use at home, though we provide them to diaper testers at no charge."
The girl reached
into her pocket and took out a strange rubber device. It resembled a fish
skeleton with a large conic "head", thin bristle-covered
"spine" and the split "tail", full of longer bristles.
"We call it
a fishy," the girl explained. "You can guess, where the head goes.
Once in, expand it by pulling on the tail. Prevents the kid from pushing it out
of his hiney. Point it forward, making sure the tail rests on the scrotal sack,
and pull the diaper over it. It turns on and off with a remote..."
She showed Laura
a tiny remote, pressing the red button, which made the "fish" buzz and
flop in her hand.
"The tail
bristles tickle the back and underside of the boy's sack, while these..."
the girl touched the fish "spine", "...stimulate the sensitive
area between his balls and the anus. Resulting in almost instant urination. By
the way, it doesn't need to be a diaper..."
"I was
thinking the same thing," Laura winked at the girl. Wet accidents with a
press of a button. At some busy public place. Would be so funny.
"Wanna give
it a try? Test his diapers in action?"
"Maybe some
other time, when there is no wait. I can return diapers if they don't fit,
can't I?"
"Of
course."
"Thank you
so much for your help!"
"No
problem."
Jimmy let out a
sigh of relief, having just dodged a bullet.
"Let's go,
mom!" he anxiously pulled on her blouse. He couldn't wait to leave the
diaper section.
"Just a
second, honey," Laura pretended to check her phone messages.
Curious to see
the "fishy" in action, she wanted to watch a diaper "test
drive", as they stood fairly close to the changing tables.
"Who's gonna
flood his diaper first: yours or mine?" a teenage girl winked at another
one standing by the next changing table.
"Let's find
out," her slightly younger friend giggled.
Both looked like
babysitters to Laura. She watched them expertly place the tickling
"fish" in their boys bottoms before pulling up the front of the
diaper and fastening the tabs. Certainly wasn't their first "test
drive". Maybe they came to the store just for that, pretending to buy
diapers for their nine year old boys. Why she was deprived of such fun when she
was 14? These girls were so lucky to live here.
"Should we
keep them on their backs?" one of the girls wondered.
"Let's stand
them up," the other one suggested. "The only way to test if the
diaper leaks."
They helped their
boys get up and asked the attendant girl for spreader bars. Having attached
those to the boy's ankles, each girl lifted his arms, holding them with one
hand. The other one held the remote.
"Ready! Set!
Go!" the girls giggled, hitting the red buttons.
The boys started
to shake and dance on the table. It was so funny to watch them struggle:
twisting and wiggling in a desperate attempt to free their hands. The spreader
bars kept them from squeezing their thighs to stop the "fish"
flopping behind their sensitive balls.
"I
win!" the girl on the left announced pointing at her boy's rapidly
expanding diaper.
"Big
deal...Started peeing a second sooner, than mine" the other one put down
the remote and felt the front of her boy's diaper with her hand."Let's see
who wets more."
Laura felt the
familiar tingling in her crotch. Little boys don't necessarily need to be naked
to entertain their moms and babysitters. Just watching their red faces was such
an unbelievable turn-on. Not just for her. She noticed a few moms stop to watch
the fierce diaper wetting too.
The girls kept
holding their boys for almost five minutes. Laura was sure both already stopped
peeing and just endured dry bladder contractions. Though one never knows, when
it comes to boys. There always seemed to be some trick to make one squirt a few
drops of pee out of his tiny spigot.
"Going for
the record?" the attendant girl smiled sarcastically. "I told you
they won't leak."
"Just making
sure." one of the teenage girls replied.
"Look!"
the store attendant put her hand under one of the boy's diapers. "You can
squeeze it as hard, as you can, and nothing will happen."
She squeezed the
wet diaper, making the boy groan of extreme discomfort.
"The
manufacturer stands behind its no-leak guarantee." the attendant girl
continued, doing the same thing to the other boy.
"Let's
go," Laura took her son's hand. The diaper show was over, and she could
continue her shopping.
They walked up to
the infant care counter.
"Could I
have those bottles," she asked the girl behind the counter. "All
three: the red, yellow, and blue. Thanks... And that green sippy cup. Yeah, the
one with monkeys."
Jimmy tried to
free his hand. He couldn't bear the counter girl's condescending smile. And
everyone around watching his mom buying that stuff... for him. Baby bottles?
What's next? A pacifier? He traced his mom's gaze and turned redder.
"You have
quite a selection of pacifiers," she told the girl. "Are they
available in all sizes?"
"Of
course," the girl nodded. "What's he? Eight? That'd be size five
here."
"Thanks.
Which ones you like, sweetie? I think this green one looks the best. So cute.
And this blue one with the yellow ducky. Why don't we buy both?"
She waited for
the girl to hand her the pacifiers.
"Thanks.
Wanna put it in your mouth, sweetie? No? OK."
Laura walked
along the counter, stopping by the section with special liquid soap,
suppositories, anal stimulators, and other tools to induce the bowel movement.
She chuckled at several electric toothbrushes. If it wasn't for the nurse's
demonstration at the hospital, she'd have definitely wondered who put them next
to the bulb enema syringes and rectal thermometers.
Jimmy's heart
sunk, when he saw his mom buy quite a few of the scary looking devices.
"That seems
to be all, we needed to buy," Laura told him.
She looked at her
watch. It's been 20 minutes since Jimmy drunk the two large cups of soda. Stall
him at the mall for another 10? Until his "big moment"?
9. The Star of the Show
"Hey! What's
happening over there?" she noticed a commotion at the back of the store.
Laura came
closer. It was some kind of a demo. Or class. There was a changing table and
another longer one next to it - with an oversized infant bathtub, that could
fit a boy like Jimmy. Size aside, the material was a bit unusual: clear
plastic.
"I'll have
to cancel the class," the early twenties woman taking on her phone,
sighed. "Hope he gets better, so we can do it next week. What did the
doctor say?"
The woman looked
around, stopping her gaze at Jimmy.
"Actually...
I've got an idea. I think I can pull it off without Billy. I'm so sorry, sis.
Kiss him for me. He'll get well in no time. Bye now!"
She hung up and
approached Laura.
"Hi!"
she greeted Jimmy's mom. "Did you register online for my infant bath
class?"
"Sorry, I
didn't."
"It's OK. We
have plenty of seats," she nodded at the several rows of chairs. "I
was just wondering. Can I ask you a favor?"
"Sure,"
Laura smiled warmly, knowing what the button nosed cutie was going to ask.
"I'm Sarah,"
the young woman introduced herself.
"Laura. And
this is my son Jimmy."
"How old is
he? Seven?"
"Eight."
"Perfect. So
sorry to bother you. Is there any chance I can... borrow him for my class? I
typically show everything on my three year old nephew. Just found out he's
sick. Some kind of flu. Hopefully nothing serious... I was gonna cancel the
class, but then saw your son..."
"You wanna
bath him?"
"Bath,
massage, cut his nails, comb his hair and make him look pretty... Not that such
angel needs any help with that. He's absolutely adorable."
"Thanks."
"Please!
I'll pay you."
"Absolutely
not! I won't take any money from you. He does need a bath. We just went to the
beach."
"Mom!"
"Jimmy,
adults are talking!"
Laura made her
decision. She could stage her son's accidents any time she wanted. It'd be way
more entertaining to see him spurt a pee fountain in the hands of a stranger
bathing him. Sure, there was another bath for Jimmy in a couple of hours.
Nothing's wrong with keeping little boys clean. Especially after visiting the
beach. There's no limit on the number of baths, kids can have daily.
"He's all
yours," she told the woman. "And if you, sweetie, give Ms.Sarah any
trouble, you are going back to the hospital. I am sure nurse Amy will be happy
to see you again."
"Did you
mean Amy Wilson?" Sarah gave Jimmy a look of pity. "He was in her
unit?"
"Yeah.
Why?"
"I work at
the same hospital."
"So you know
her?"
"The whole
island does. Look her up online... Now, why would such an angel give me trouble?
Show me a little boy who doesn't like bath time. Right, Jimmy? What's your
favorite bathtub toy?"
Sarah lifted the
boy onto the changing table. Jimmy sat on it, frozen in disbelief. He was so
shocked, he couldn't even cry. It didn't seem real. Like a bad dream, one is
desperately trying to wake up from. For the second day now.
"Hi! What a
cute son you have," one of the women greeted Laura, after she took a seat
in the second row.
"Absolutely
adorable!" another one added.
Laura looked
around. Half of the women that came to the class were pregnant. Average age
about 25. Many brought their teenage sisters. There were also a couple of women
slightly older than her, in the early thirties. All with 12-13 year old
daughters. The kind of audience that guaranteed her son's red face. She
couldn't wait for the class to start.
"Thank you
for coming to my class today," Sarah addressed the audience. "I'm
Sarah Harris. And this little angel's name is Jimmy. He's filling in today for
my nephew Billy, typically featured in my online videos. Billy's OK. Just got a
little flu."
"Poor
baby!" one of the women in the audience sighed.
"You can
wish him well online. Just visit my sister's C-Book page. I'm sure she's going
to post updates on his condition. Along with a few pictures of the temperature
taking."
The audience
broke out with giggles.
"Let's give
it up for Jimmy and his mother Laura, who allowed me to bath him today.
Couldn't wish for a better kid. Little boys don't get prettier than this, do
they, ladies?"
Everyone
enthusiastically clapped.
"Thank you.
Let's begin, shall we?"
Jimmy noticed
half of the audience take out their phones to record the class. One woman in
the back even had a professional looking camera with a little glowing red
light.
"The first
step is self-explanatory. You need to undress the child. Raise your arms,
sweetie. Here we go." Sarah removed Jimmy's t-shirt. "Now lie down on
your back please. Let's move you up. Perfect... It's easier to remove the
pants... or diaper, when the kid's lying down. Regardless of his age. Raise his
legs to make him lift his bum off the table. And pull the pants down.... Honey,
you need to let go of your tights. Does your mommy put you in the bath in them?
No? I didn't think so either. Here. Look what I got for you." She showed
Jimmy a toy car. "Have you ever seen this car on the street? It's an
expensive Italian one. There is a couple on our island."
She pulled the
boy's pants down and then completely removed them in one quick motion. Jimmy
frowned, holding the toy car in his hands. It was a cool metal toy unlike the
ones he saw in this store, but how could he allow being fooled by a toy again?
He should have been immune to tricks like that at the age of eight.
"No,
honey," Sarah gently, but decisively moved the boy's hands away from his
crotch. "No covering. Ain't nothing the ladies here haven't seen before.
Where is your yellow car?" She gave Jimmy his car again. "Do you
know, that you can open the doors? And the back. Bet you've never seen a car
like that: with the engine in the back. I tell you what. Don't drop it again
and it's yours. Deal? Honey, you need to hold it with both hands. Here we go.
Good boy!"
Sarah
repositioned the boy on the changing table to lie across it diagonally.
"The next
step takes about five minutes on average, so if you have a large tub to fill,
you can turn on the water. I am going to hold off, since he's getting a
massage. However before any bath or massage... Anyone wants to tell me what we
do after undressing the baby? Yes, sweetie..."
She pointed at a
cute 12 year old girl in the first row.
"Make him
pee and poop?" the girl giggled.
"You are
absolutely right. Being undressed before the bath is a perfect pottytunity.
Especially for boys. Hoping, just hoping your little one doesn't pee in the
tub. Or worse. You need to always make sure he does his little boy's business
before the bath. Both number one and number two."
She raised
Jimmy's legs and crossed his ankles, holding them with one hand.
"Potty is
out of the question. Even for eight year olds like him," Sarah explained
to the audience, pushing a thickly folded diaper cloth under the boy's butt.
"First, every second counts. You can't wait for him to make poopies while
the bath is being filled. The water would get cold. And second, you need to
make sure he emptied his bladder and bowels, which requires two types of
stimulation, everyone here is certainly familiar with. Number one is induced by
tickling the sensitive scrotal area... Coochie-coochie-coo! Let's show everyone
a baby boy fountain... Here we go! Aww, isn't it cute, ladies?"
"Never seen
a boy pee that high." one of the teenage girls giggled.
"Though he
didn't overshoot the table," a young woman sitting behind her remarked.
"Because his
willie is pointing straight up," the 12 year old in the first row said.
Jimmy though his
face was going to explode - that hot it was.
"Good
observation," Sarah nodded. "No need to hold and aim his pee-pee. And
as far, as the intensity, it's just the matter of finding his most ticklish
spots. Typically the back of the scrotal sack. And the sensitive area behind
it. Keep tickling him until he completely empties his bladder. And for about a
minute after that to be sure. See? He's still squirting... You like playing
fireman, sweetie? Every little boy does... The lower tummy and the pubic area
are very ticklish too. Make sure to use a very light touch. Just glide your
fingertips over his tender skin. Here we go: more spurts. Circle around the
willy... Amazing sensitivity. I though my three year old nephew responded to
the stimulation well, but this one pees from a slight touch. All done, sweetie?
Let's take care of the number two then."
She replaced a
wet diaper cloth under the boy's butt with a new one.
"There are
many tools to induce the bowel movement: from thermometers and enema syringes
to ball stimulators. I prefer this," Sarah showed the audience an electric
toothbrush and raised Jimmy's legs again. "Needs some lubrication of
course. Just a few drops of soap on his little hole... And inside... Lie still,
honey..." she twirled her finger inside the boy's butt, quickly withdrew
it and showed the audience the baby wipe she used to clean it with. "He
definitely needs to poop. We don't want this in the bathtub."
Jimmy was beyond
embarrassed. He felt like he died. He wasn't in this world anymore. This island
could only exist in some evil parallel universe. Because if those young women
and giggling teenage girls watching him helplessly pee like a toddler, were
real, the world would have ended...
The
excruciatingly tickling touch to his butt hole returned the eight year old boy
to reality.
"Gonna make
poopies for me?" Sarah asked him sweetly, tickling his sensitive hole with
the buzzing toothbrush. "It'd make your tummy feel so much better. Here we
go! That's my boy!"
"His tummy
should definitely feel better after that!" a pretty pregnant woman said,
eliciting a few giggles.
"No
kidding!" the one sitting next to her agreed with a condescending smile.
"Does he
always poop like that at home? Or he's trying to impress us?" another one
asked Laura.
"Responded
to the stimulation rather well, didn't he, ladies?" Sarah looked at her
audience. "Note, without an enema syringe, stick with balls, or anything
else in his bum. By all means, vary your tools. I do use ball simulators and
enemas. Not every day though. And honestly I get much better results with a
toothbrush."
"You think
this is it?"
"Let's find
out. Wipe his poopie hole... And tickle it again..." she put the buzzing
toothbrush to the boy's butt hole, making him shudder and squirm in a futile
attempt to evade the unpleasant touch. "Make sure to firmly hold the kid's
ankles. Raising his legs as far, as you can. Like this: his feet should be at
the face level. See, how nicely he opened his hole for me? Let's make more
poopies, sweetheart. For your mommy and all the nice ladies in the audience.
Aww, lookie what we got here! How about another one? Good boy! Let's wipe your
bum and repeat..."
Gentle and sweet,
Sarah had the determination of a pediatric nurse to turn the boy's bowels
inside out. Jimmy wasn't sure who he feared more: mean Amy, who tortured him at
the hospital or this pretty woman cooing sweet baby talk to him.
After a few more
agonizing minutes of convulsive peeing and pooping, met with condescending
remarks and giggles, Jimmy finally saw Sarah put the electric toothbrush away.
"Move here,
honey," she told the boy after quickly wiping his butt and crotch.
"Let me clean the table."
Sarah covered the
changing table with a large towel.
"Roll over
onto your tummy, dear. Yes, lie on this towel. Are you ready for your
massage?"
She started
massaging Jimmy's shoulders. It actually felt good.
"Always
allocate enough time for the child's bath, so you can give him a relaxing massage
before putting him in a tub," she told the audience. "Start with the
shoulders... The back... Arms... Legs. Let's spread them a little
wider..."
Jimmy shivered at
the tickling touch to his inner thighs. The fingers went higher, briefly
stroking his sensitive balls and going between his buttocks.
"Relax your
bum, honey. You need to completely let go." Sarah gently tickled the back
of the boy's sack with another hand. "That's it. Good boy." Her
fingers continued moving up, momentarily stopping to poke the poop hole.
The unexpected
touch made Jimmy flinch and pass gas, eliciting giggles from the audience.
"Now all the
way down: between the buttocks and along the inside of his legs." she
explained. "And up again. Spending a bit more time on this cute round
bum... And down again."
The tickling
ministrations continued until he involuntarily peed into the towel he was lying
on.
"I knew
you'd enjoy my massage," Sarah told the red-faced boy with a hint of
sarcasm. "Get up!"
She slid her hand
between Jimmy's legs cupping his boy package with four fingers, while pressing
on his butt hole with a big one.
"Up!"
Sarah pulled her hand, making the boy rise until he was on his fours.
Laura was amazed
how well that 20-something woman handled her son. Jimmy was visibly distraught,
but didn't give her any trouble. What was Sarah's secret? Her sweet, yet
assertive tone? The smile she could kill with?
"Turn this
way, sweetie," Sarah positioned the boy on the table diagonally, making
him present his butt to the audience. "Now bend your elbows and put them
on the table. Good boy! Relax your back..." she put her hand on his lower
back and pushed down, making him arch his spine. "Good!"
"Quite a
sight!" one of the women in the audience said with a gleeful smile.
"Haven't
seen such a perfect round bum in a long while," another one remarked.
"Absolute
perfection indeed."
"Divine
beauty."
"So cute,
when they arch their backs and present the bum like that.
"Where such
naked angels come from? Heaven?"
"Augusta,
Main, United States," Laura told her, trying to keep a straight face.
"You are so,
so lucky!"
"Thanks!"
Hasn't she known
it already? Let them envy her. Finally... she found a place where her main
achievement in life: her beautiful baby boy mattered most. To everyone. Instead
of stupid connections and resumes. Laura was admiring her son's naked body too.
She could stare at it for hours.
"Spread your
legs a bit more, cutie-pie," Sarah continued, patting Jimmy's boy parts to
make sure they hang freely between his legs. "No, no, no! Don't get up!
Elbows on the table! Keep your back like this: completely relaxed. These buns
too."
Sarah poured a
generous amount of baby oil down Jimmy's crack.
"That's it,
baby. Stay relaxed. Good boy!" she smiled sweetly, running her index
finger up and down between his buttocks. "Feels good, doesn't it?"
It didn't feel
unpleasant, if that's what she meant. Just extremely embarrassing: standing
naked on all fours in front of nearly 50 young women and teenage girls.
"You need to
gently massage his crack to make him relax his bum," Sarah explained to
the audience. "Just run your finger up and down... probing his hole's
tightness, when you touch it... Keep still, sweetie... Good! See him relax his
little hole?"
Jimmy let out a
loud fart, feeling his face getting hotter.
"Not sure
about seeing, but I can definitely hear it!" one of the women laughed.
"Save some
for the bath, honey. You know, to make bubbles," Sarah told him, knowing
quite well, that such toddler joke was rather humiliating, than funny for an
eight year old.
Predictably
Jimmy's face turned redder.
"Another
technique to make a boy relax his anal sphincter is tickling his scrotal
sack..." Sarah continued. "Keep your elbows on the table, honey...
The tickle makes him shiver and completely lose the tension. Wait for the right
moment, when his body shakes, and... yes, slide your finger in. See how easy it
is to make the little boy let it in? Now let's give him a thorough... internal
massage."
Sarah started to
pump the boy's hole with her index finger. Jimmy felt completely defeated,
trying hard to hold back tears. Not in front of these women.
"Keep your
finger pointed down and locate his boy bump: about 6-7 centimeters in. You
can't miss it. Not to mention, the boy will let you know..."
Most of the
audience grinned, though a few younger girls gave Sarah a blank stare.
"How?"
a pretty 12 year old girl in the first row asked.
"Come here,
kitten... Ladies, please!" Sarah waited for the giggles to die down.
"What's your name, sweetheart?"
"Maddie."
"What a
pretty name for a pretty girl. Now, you've seen what boys do when they are
about to pee?"
"Strain
their willies?"
"Right. Take
a look."
The girl bent
down to look under Jimmy's tummy.
"Oh, my
gosh!" Maddie reached between the boy's legs and bounced his stiff willy.
"It's like a spring!"
The audience
erupted in laughter.
"Learned a
lot today?" Sarah asked the girl.
"Yeah!"
the girl played with Jimmy's pee-pee a bit more before returning to her seat.
The funny scene
left a deep impression on Laura. She wasn't surprised, let alone offended by
Sarah letting a 12 year old girl fondle her son. She enjoyed watching his face
getting redder, like the rest of the audience. What amazed her the most, was
how casually complete strangers like Maddie touched naked boys' packages. She
noticed it at the beach first, watching the two girls Maddie's age playing with
her son. No reservations at all. Like petting a cute puppy.
"Having
located the bump, you can use two fingers to thoroughly massage it," Sarah
continued. "Keeping the boy in place by cupping his little package with
your other hand... And gently massaging it of course."
She rolled
Jimmy's balls in her fingers, making the boy gasp.
"Does he
need his paci?" Sarah asked Laura. "I can give him one of Billy's if
you forgot yours at home."
Sarah's
assumptions made Jimmy choke in anger. But his mom... simply played along, as
always.
"Here."
Laura took out one of the pacifiers she just bought for Jimmy, walked to the changing
table and stuck it in his mouth. To her surprise her eight year old son
immediately started sucking on it.
There was no
point arguing - standing naked on all four. It'd have only made the situation
more embarrassing.
"Thanks,"
Sarah increased the pace, pumping Jimmy's butt hole with two fingers.
"Make sure to drain his bladder," she placed a small bowl under the
boy's willy and gently stroked the back of his pink sack.
Jimmy flinched
and peed into the bowl eliciting giggles and awws.
"Once he's
peed, you can massage his little willy," Sarah continued, "If that's
a toddler with tight foreskin, rub the tip of his "hood" with one
finger... If it's an eight year old and the foreskin retracts... Seems like it
does... Keep still, honey... almost there... Once you fully open his little
nub, rub the top along with the urethral opening, which, as you may expect,
will cause... Yes, instant urination... And that, my dear ladies, is how you
drain a little boy, preparing him for his bath."
Laura looked around.
Everyone's eyes were glued to her shuddering naked son. She noticed several
young women holding one hand between their legs, casually covered with a purse
or hat. They couldn't help rubbing themselves, which was becoming increasingly
hard to resist for her as well. Seemed like a norm here: as long, as no boy
could see it.
"Are you
wigglying him?" the cute 12 year old asked with an innocent smile.
"Maddie!"
her mom gasped, visibly embarrassed by her daughter's naïve bluntness.
"No, honey,
I am not," Sarah explained after the giggles died down. "It's just a
massage. Though I'm certain some moms do what you just mentioned before the
boy's bath. A sure way to calm a fussy little boy. Right, ladies?"
The audience
burst out in laughter.
"Sure there
is plenty of classes dedicated to that specific technique," she continued.
"Just not mine, sorry. And Miss Maddie brought up a valid point. We don't
want the boy to enjoy his massage too much if you know what I mean."
Sarah withdrew
her fingers from Jimmy's butt, wiped them with the towel, and helped Jimmy lie
on his back.
"The same
sequence," she explained. "Top to bottom: shoulders, chest, left
arm... The right one... Spend a little longer on the tummy: circle around the
belly button... Then massage the area under it... Up and down... And left to
right... He's a little tight, which means..." she turned to the audience.
"Gas,"
one of the women said.
"Right!
Raise both legs, bend the knees and press the thighs against the stomach...
Come on, little one..."
She pressed
harder making Jimmy fart.
"Here we go!
Massage his tummy again, raise the legs and... Good boy! Music to every mom's
ears, isn't it?"
The audience
giggled.
"Now...
Let's put some oil on his bum, keeping him in the legs-up position... Right on
his hole..."
Jimmy winced,
knowing what was going to happen next: her finger in his butt. Sarah inserted
two and immediately started rubbing his "special spot" making his
willie ache.
"You can do
several leg exercises, while keeping your fingers in his hiney. Lifting one leg
at a time... Now both of them... Lift them up... Cross the ankles and push down
to make him spread his legs... All while rubbing his boy's bump. Of course it's
better to have another pair of hands helping you."
She looked at
Laura.
"Do you want
me to help you?" Jimmy's mom wondered.
"I was
thinking about that kitten," Sarah pointed at Maddie. "If that's OK
with you."
"Absolutely!"
Laura nodded with a smile.
"Wanna help
me, Maddie?"
Sarah beckoned
the girl to come and went to the tub to turn on the water.
"Alright.
Let me raise his legs. I can hold them separately now... allowing me to spread
them wider and raise them higher, almost to his ears. It makes the boy do to
things: present his little package..."
The girl giggled.
"And open
his poop hole."
"He did open
it a little."
"What are
you waiting for?"
"You want me
to... Oh my gosh!" the girl giggled with excitement.
"Two
fingers, honey... A little deeper... Can you feel his bump?"
"I am not
sure..."
"Watch his
willy... Here we go. You certainly found it."
"Just rub
it, right?"
"Make sure
to apply some pressure... Good! And use your other hand to massage his little
marbles. Excellent! Keep doing it"
"Looks like
he's gonna pee."
"Well, don't
stand right in front of him, in the soak zone!"
"OK.
Oopsie!" the girl giggled, watching Jimmy spurt of stream of pee.
"Make him
pee again. That's my girl! In the meantime, we are going to proceed with the
leg exercises... Lifting... Crossing... Spreading... Lifting again... Now the
exercise called "bicycle". Tickle his balls, sweetie... A little
lower, behind them... That's the spot... And I am going to let him kick his
legs, making sure he can't hit you... Don't mind his spurts. Keep tickling
him... Fun, isn't it?"
"Your daughter
is a natural," one of the women told Maddie's mom.
"Thank you.
Wonder where she learned that..."
"Video
tutorials?"
"Of
fingering little boys?"
"Shh! It's
called relaxing massage around here."
A few giggles
ensued.
Laura started to
worry if the pad in her panties was up to the task. She didn't expect so much
excitement at the mall. She looked around noticing more women rubbing
themselves. She should come to such classes more often. Maybe even start her
own. On "wigglying" little boys... No one explained that term to her
officially. Seemed like some kind of secret. Are they kidding? There was only
one thing those "wigglies" could mean.
"That's
enough, honey. Thank you," Sarah told Maddie. "Remember what I just
said? Don't let little boys enjoy the massage too much."
The girl withdrew
her fingers.
"Make sure
to thoroughly clean your hands with baby wipes," Sarah instructed her.
"Oh, and could you turn off the water please? Thanks."
Sarah quickly
wiped Jimmy's butt and crotch.
"Let me
clean up here..." she told the audience. "As you can see, a baby
massage can get quite messy... Now... Come here, sweetie." she took Jimmy
in her arms. "Let's put you in the bathtub. Isn't it what these lovely
ladies came to see?"
She lowered the
naked boy into the tub.
"Sorry,
honey. It's a class. I can only let you play for a couple of minutes before I
start washing you." Sarah apologized to Jimmy, throwing several toys into
the bathtub, "Go on. Play with your toys. What's the matter, baby? I
thought you liked bath time."
Her smile was so
sweet, Jimmy instantly forgot what that woman just did to him, and picked up a
plastic boat. It felt really awkward: pretending to be a happy toddler playing
with boats and duckies. But what else he could do sitting in this bathtub?
Watch the 50 women staring at his naked body through the clear plastic?
"Having fun,
sweetie? What's this ducky name? Haven't named him yet? And who's that? A
little fishy? You know he can squirt out of his mouth?"
She squeezed the
rubber toy, squirting a jet of water into Jimmy's face. He couldn't help
giggling.
"Squirt toys
are fun, aren't they, Jimmy? Including your favorite one..."
Sarah reached
between the boy's legs and flicked his willy, making him flinch and let out a
big bubble of gas.
"I knew you
wouldn't miss that opportunity," she said, making the audience laugh.
She kept holding
the boy's pee-pee.
"On a
serious note, ladies," she continued. "If you haven't gotten your
boy's foreskin to retract completely... which every mom should make sure of by
the age of three... Bath is the best time to loosen Mr. Willy's little hood.
The hot water makes the skin soft and stretchable. Pull it back as far, as you
can.... Hold it like that for a few seconds... Return to the original position
and repeat, trying to stretch it a little more... Be very gentle. Don't force
it open at once. It typically takes about two weeks if you work his willy
daily.
She stopped
rolling Jimmy's pee-pee in her fingers and poured some shampoo into her hands.
"Some moms
wash the kid's hair last, but I prefer to take the "head to toe"
literally. It's way easier to wash his head when he's still sitting in the tub.
Close your eyes, honey."
Jimmy quickly
did. He hated when his mom washed his hair, but Sarah's soft hands actually
felt good.
"Thoroughly
rinse the hair... Face too... You can open your eyes now, sweetheart."
Sarah reached
into the water and pulled out the tub's plug to drain it.
"Get up,
hon. Let's have you washed."
Jimmy reluctantly
stood up, immediately covering his crotch. He couldn't bear facing 50 young
women and teenage girls devouring his naked body with their pretty eyes.
"Need to go
potty?" Sarah asked.
Jimmy shook his
head, feeling his face getting hotter.
"Sure? Why
are you touching your willy then? Could you keep your hands out of there
please?"
She put the boy's
hands on his sides and started lathering them up.
"I think
everyone here would agree, that the only way to bath a kid is with your bare
hands. Start with arms. Then the body: shoulders... back... Turn around,
honey..." Sarah poured more shower gel into her hands and lathered up
Jimmy's chest, making sure to rub the boy's nipples. "Now the tummy...
Hold still!"
She moved her
hands lower, making Jimmy endure the sharp tickle.
"Relax your
bum, honey. I need to wash it too. No? You know I am gonna do it anyway?"
Sarah lathered up
Jimmy's buttocks and forced her hand between them. Nothing he could do to stop
her slippery finger from reaching his sensitive hole.
"No little
boy likes having his hiney washed. I am not even talking about his boy's
package. Great if you have someone to help, but if you are bathing the kid
alone, there is a simple way to make him comply and stand still: the
hook."
She bent her
index finger in an explicit gesture. No one in the audience needed an
explanation where the "hook" goes.
"Doesn't
really matter if he clenches his buns, because a well-soaped finger will make
it to the right spot... And in it goes."
Sarah forced her
finger into Jimmy's butt hole, making the boy jump.
"Did you
poke him through?" a young women in the first row asked sarcastically.
"It's not your finger, is it?"
She pointed at
Jimmy's willy, that sprung up the moment, Sarah inserted her finger into the
boy's poop hole.
"Some boys
really love their baths," another woman laughed.
"Some?"
the one sitting next to her giggled.
"You're on
my hook now, sweetheart," Sarah smiled, bending her finger inside Jimmy's
butt. "How about some ballet?"
She pulled her
finger up, making the boy stand on tiptoes.
"Up, up, up!
Good boy! My little naked ballet dancer," Sarah smiled sarcastically,
wiggling her finger in his butt.
Jimmy quivered
and fidgeted in discomfort, biting his pacifier. The soap stung his butt every
time his smiling and cooing tormenter moved her finger.
"Dance some
more for me..." Sarah kept wiggling her hooked finger inside the boy's
hole. "Are you going to let me wash your dirty bum now?"
He nodded.
"Because if
you don't..." she wiggled her soapy finger again, making him fidget.
"Where did you learn these moves, honey? Trying to entertain the ladies?
The new dance sensation, isn't he?"
The audience
burst out in laughter.
"I'm sure
your best performance is coming up: when I start washing your jewels. Spread
your legs, sweetie! I'm not gonna ask twice! Good boy! Now bend your knees a
little and arch your back. Keep your bum stuck out, while I am washing it...
Between your buns... And your dirty little hole of course. In... And out...
In... Honey, you need to keep your knees bent. There we go... Out... And in
again. What? I am sorry sweetie. It's gonna stay inside, while I wash your boy
parts."
She cupped the
boy's balls with her other hand, making his whole body shake.
"I know,
baby. I know... It's every little boy's most ticklish spot. Try to keep
still..." she wiggled her finger in Jimmy's butt and turned to the
audience. "Every time you need to persuade him to do something, use the
"hook" to do the talking."
A few stifled
giggles ensued.
"Let's
thoroughly wash your little sack... What was that?" she momentarily
stopped rolling the boy's balls in her soapy fingers after he convulsively
squirted two jets of pee out of his throbbing willy. "I told you,
ladies..." Sarah said with a condescending smile. "One can only hope
after making a boy go potty before his bath, that he wouldn't pee in the tub.
Obviously accidents like that shouldn't deter you from thoroughly washing his
boy parts."
Sarah resumed her
gentle massage of Jimmy's shriveled sack, rewarded by more spurts from his
pee-pee.
"Aww!"
one of the teenage girls smiled with glee. "Little boys are so cute, doing
it."
Sarah kept
lathering up Jimmy's balls for another couple of minutes. Laura watched her son
shudder and pee, knowing, that he was deliberately subjected to prolonged
tickling for everyone's amusement. Who'd resist tickling sensitive boy's balls
when giving him a bath? She did it every single time she bathed Jimmy, when he
was little: tickled him to pee and then some more, after a mock scolding.
"Do boys ever
grow out of this naughty habit?" Sarah let out a condescending sigh,
enjoying Jimmy's beet-red face. "Are you done with your peeing fun, baby?
Let's give Mr.Willy a thorough wash, shall we? Keep still and try not to pee
again please. If that's not much to ask from a boy your age... Honey, I told
you to hold still!" Sarah used her soapy finger inside the boy's butt to
assert her authority. "Do we have an understanding? Good! I need to clean
Mr.Willy with soap... Inside and out... Which means we're gonna pull his hood
all the way down... Hold still... Here we go! Now we can thoroughly wash his
head."
An excruciating
jolt made Jimmy nearly jump out of the tub. The sensation was so strong, he
couldn't help peeing again.
"That was
too much to ask of you, wasn't it?" Sarah sighed, continuing her
manipulations. "Boys being boys... And since you are refusing to keep
still, we're gonna do things a little differently."
She reached
behind the table and picked up a strange looking plastic bench.
"Comes handy
when you are bathing an uncooperative boy alone," Sarah explained to the
audience. "Move here, honey."
Sarah placed the
bench into the tub.
"Lie down,
sweetheart... On your back... Good boy... Legs up!" she grabbed Jimmy's
ankles and pushed both of his legs up. "See, how I positioned him? The
butt hanging off the edge of the bench, so everything that comes out of his pee
and poop holes lands in the tub and goes down the drain. Now, you don't suppose
he'd lie still in this position, allowing me to wash his poopie hole and boy
parts? Let's make sure he does. See the poles on each side of the bench? Let's
raise them a little higher... Aligned with his knees. Perfect... Secure each
leg to the pole. Two straps: one at the ankle and one below the knee.
Beautiful. Made him spread his legs and present his little package. The bum is
wide-open too. Sweetie, you can come closer to watch, if you want to." she
beckoned Maddie with her finger.
A few other
teenage girls came too, making Jimmy's face redder.
"Stand on
the other side please, so your moms can watch too." Sarah instructed them.
The bench was
slightly lower, than the edge of the tub, though it didn't matter, since the
tub was made of clear plastic. Jimmy felt completely exposed and vulnerable,
shivering in anticipation of very unpleasant things the young woman restrained
him for.
"Did
Mr.Willy put his hood back on? Before I finished washing his head?" she
took a hold of the boy's pee-pee, making the girls giggle. "By the way, is
your little buddy tired of standing upright? Let's fix that too."
She thrusted two
soapy fingers into Jimmy's butt hole, making him gasp.
"Here we go!
Up again," Sarah poked the boy's "special bump" a couple more
times and withdrew her fingers, turning her attention to his willy.
"So cute!"
one of the girls giggled.
"Let's pull
the hood down... And thoroughly wash Mr.Willy's head."
Jimmy felt the
familiar sensation: intense tingling and unbearable urge to pee. His body shook
wildly, making him gasp for air.
"Boys hate
being touched like this," Sarah explained to the girls. "Be gentle,
but very thorough. And of course prepared for this." She removed the palm,
she was rubbing the boy's tiny slit with, letting a jet of pee burst out of it.
"Don't mind his pee fountains. Every boy does it having his little nub
washed with soap."
"Poor
baby!"
"Not very
pleasant, I know. Spend a couple extra minutes on his sensitive nub to teach
him a lesson. Why don't we wash this pink sack too. Aww, is little baby
ticklish? What about your little hole? Let's thoroughly wash it again. In and
out... Now with a twist. Just quickly insert and withdraw. Rapid penetration is
a very effective way to stimulate a bowel movement. Here we go! Better in an
empty bathtub, than your pants. Right, Jimmy?"
Sarah continued
her ministrations for another minute, before turning on the shower head.
"Rinse all
of the soap away... And we are done! One sparkling clean little boy."
She unfastened
the straps and took Jimmy in her arms.
"Back on the
changing table," she lowered the boy onto the fluffy towel. "It's
more convenient to pat him dry lying on his back, like an infant. The hair,
face... Peekaboo! Arms... chest... tummy... legs... the boy bits of course...
Now turn him on his tummy and thoroughly dry the back and this cute round
bottom. Did your mom tell you, you have the cutest baby boy bum in the world?
Stay on your tummy, honey. I need to apply the lotion all over your body. The
lavender one is the best. Feels good, doesn't it? Spread your legs a little...
Sweetheart, when I said "the whole body", it meant your bum too. OK,
it's much easier when you lie on your back. Turn over... Hold still. Yes, it
goes under the Mr.Willy's hood as well... And on your little marbles... Thanks
for not peeing on me. Now... Let's lift your legs and take care of your
bum..." she turned to the audience. "Make sure to get some inside
too... All done. Stay on your back. I need to clip your nails."
Sarah took a nail
clipper and lifted Jimmy's left leg.
"Aww, how
cute!" one of the girls said. "Lying naked on the changing table
having his nails clipped."
"Yeah, so
adorable. An eight year old with a pacifier in his mouth."
Jimmy rolled his
eyes. At least Sarah was gentle with a nail clipper unlike his mom. It didn't
hurt at all. But being naked in front of a dozen giggling teenage girls? Not to
mention their moms in the audience... Listening to endless awws... A couple of
girls even played with his boy parts. Sarah just watched it with a smirk,
listening to the girls debate if Mr.Willy looked cuter with his hood up or
down.
"Sit up,
honey," Sarah helped him sit. "Gotta style your hair. Let's prepare
you for your beauty pageant." She turned to Jimmy's mom. "Have you
enrolled him in one yet?"
She started to
comb Jimmy's hair, using a brush and expensive looking hair dryer.
"I am
serious," she told Laura. "With his looks... He'll easily win this
year in his age group."
"I'll think
about it," Laura smiled.
"Well, if
you do decide to enroll him in the "Cutest Boy" pageant, you can
count on my vote.
"And
mine!" Maddie smiled.
"Mine
too!"
"Geez, who
wouldn't vote for such an angel?"
Sarah stood Jimmy
up.
"What do you
think of this hairstyle, ladies?"
"Absolutely
stunning!"
"I'm
speechless"
"I think I
need to go to the bathroom."
"Yeah, I came
a little too."
"Shh!"
"What a
pretty little boy!"
"The best
kind of attire for this cutie, don't ya think?"
"His
birthday suit?"
The awws
continued for another couple of minutes. Sarah let everyone take pictures of
the naked boy with their phones.
"Could you
make your son pose for me?" a late-twenties woman with a professional
camera approached Laura. "I run an ad agency."
She handed
Jimmy's mom her card.
"Little
Cuties... So you make kids commercials?"
"Yeah.
Mostly clothing. Can I take a couple of test shots? I'll email them to
you."
"Sure. Take
as many, as you need."
"Thanks."
The woman started
photographing Jimmy in different poses.
"Such a
great boy model. It's up to you."
"Modeling?"
The woman nodded.
"If you say "yes", he's basically hired. Wanna do some modeling,
Jimmy? Let's try these on."
She handed Laura
a couple of cute nursery print t-shirts. Laura put the first one on Jimmy. It
was short: didn't even cover the boy's belly button.
"Thanks!
Perfect!"
The camera
started to click again. "Aww. Are you shy, little one? No! Don't remove
his hands. Let him pull the t-shirt down. Wanna capture his face... Such a cute
scene. I know a few magazines, that'd kill to have it on their covers. By the
way, keep the t-shirts. They're yours. So... Would you consider modeling for
him?"
"When do we
start?" Laura chuckled.
"I'll call
you tomorrow. Can I get your number?"
The women bumped
their smartwatches exchanging the contact information.
"The star of
the show!" Sarah smiled. "Come here, Jimmy." She hugged the boy.
"Thank you so much, sweetie! And your mom of course. Can I hug you
too?"
"It's me who
should be thanking you. For bathing Jimmy and making him pretty."
"Anytime.
Seriously. You know where to find me. So any time he needs a bath... after
visiting the beach... or to clean him up after an accident..." she winked
at Laura. "Can I also invite you to our weekly brunch? We have it every
Sunday. Just my sister and a couple of friends."
"I'll be
delighted to meet them," Laura pulled her son's pants higher. "Say
"bye", Jimmy! Let's stay in touch, Sarah."
They bumped their
watches and Laura helped Jimmy to get down.
"Did you
enjoy your bath? We still have another one tonight. Sorry, honey, I make no
exceptions. Every little boy needs to be bathed before going to bed. Let's
go."
10. Puppies and Kittens
She took Jimmy's
hand and they left the store. The rest of the mall looked more or less
conventional: expensive boutiques and big department stores. Until they turned
the corner and saw a glass-encased shop in the middle of the hallway.
"Little
Bottoms," Laura read the sign, "A funny name for a daycare. Guess
they take kids of all ages..."
"Mom! I
don't wanna..." Jimmy pulled her hand.
"Relax! I'm
not taking you to this daycare... Well, not right now. Unless you keep acting
up... I just wanna ask a question, that's all."
Laura stepped in.
"Hi!" a
cute 16 year old girl greeted them. "Welcome to Little Bottoms. What a
pretty son you have. I am so sorry. We're full..." she looked into her
tablet. "...until 18:15. I can try to talk to the manager. Maybe she'd let
him in."
"It's OK. I
just wanted to ask you a few questions. You charge hourly, right? And take kids
of all ages?"
"Under
11."
"Of course.
So I can leave him here and go shopping?"
"For up to
three hours."
"What if
he..."
"Has an
accident?" the girl chuckled. "We make every kid go potty upon taking
him in. Both number one and number two. Then get them to pee every 20 minutes,
so they won't make puddles on the floor. Since they are not wearing any
pants."
"That's what
"little bottoms" means. You keep them butt-naked?"
"Yes. Little
boys love it," the girl pointed at a three year old running around in just
a short t-shirt.
"Wanna come
here someday, honey?" Laura couldn't resist teasing her son. "So I
can shop alone instead of dragging you from one store to another? You'd have so
much fun with other kids."
"He
will!" the girl turned to Jimmy. "Do you like sports? We have
football. And basketball. All kinds of games with all kinds of balls." She
chuckled, but managed to keep a straight face and continue. "Tricycles,
trampolines... The manager is big on physical exercises."
Laura looked
around. All kids were indeed involved in some kind of ball throwing game. Their
bare bottoms looked so cute. Not to mention the bouncing willies. She noticed a
few shoppers stop by to admire the kids too. Mostly teenage girls, taking
pictures with their phones.
"Is he
potty-trained?" the girl asked.
"We're
working on it."
"So he's
not? That actually works out better, since we don't allow potties."
"What do you
mean?"
"EC only. We
don't have enough staff to supervise every kid on the potty."
"I see.
Since you make them tinkle so often."
"Yes. Plus
no one gets offended. Being too little for the potty or too old for the
changing table. Everyone does it the same way: lying legs-up in the diapering
position."
"Fine with
me."
"You sure
you don't want me to talk to the manager? See if she can squeeze him in."
"No need.
Thanks. Almost forgot. Do you bath kids?"
"We can -
for an additional fee. Not here though. We take them to the grooming salon over
there."
"Grooming
salon?"
"You've
never seen one? Every mall has them: bathing and grooming salons. I can call
them and make a reservation for you. Do you wanna have him bathed now? While
you're shopping?"
"No, he's
just had a bath. I was just asking."
Laura thanked the
girl and headed to the "grooming salon."
"Curious
what they do," she told her son.
The grooming
salon turned out to be a fenced off area in the corner of the hallway. It had
three big stationary bathtubs, several plastic infant ones, and a couple of
large basins. Plus the changing tables: one occupied by a three year old
toddler receiving a massage from a pretty 18-something girl. The most unusual
part was the seating for moms watching their kids bathed: a set of retractable
bleachers taken straight from some high school gym.
The amphitheater
arrangement reminded Laura of the medical theaters she saw in the movies. What
a great idea. Watching naked little boys during hygienic and medical
treatments. As she expected, the audience wasn't just their moms. Half were
teenage girls and young women just enjoying the show. Like pet store visitors
who never owned, nor cared to adopt a dog or cat: coming to the store to admire
adorable puppies and kittens up for adoption.
"So that's
the grooming salon..." Laura chuckled.
"I am
sorry," the girl at the counter corrected her. "We used to be called
such, but are a full-service kids spa now. Would you be interested in our
today's special? It's called "Happy Baby". A thorough colon cleansing
with two enemas. Followed by a relaxing massage. A special herbal bath. The
moisturizing lotion over his entire body. Cutting and polishing the nails. A designer
haircut. And lastly a small vitamin enema."
"How
much?"
"Oh, the
first one's on the house. I don't think I've seen you here before."
Laura was
tempted, but Jimmy just had his bath. Not to mention another one in a couple of
hours.
"We're kind of
in a rush," she apologized.
"Come back
any time!" the girl smiled.
They left the
mall and boarded a bus, heading home. Laura took the last look at the mall. She
was definitely going to take advantage of the grooming salon's offer. Maybe
even tomorrow. A "spa"? Yeah, right! It was nothing, but a
"grooming salon". For pets. Grooming cute little doggies and kitties
while their owners watched. The glass-encased "bottomless daycare"
also belonged to a pet store. Puppies and kittens made to run the ramps and
jump through hoops. Dogs and cats don't need any clothing. Nor do little boys.
Laura recalled
Chairman Arianna's famous speech: "men becoming a decorative breed".
That's who boys were on this island: pets. Precious and loved, but still...
nothing, but pets.
Most dog and cat
breeds were indeed decorative: to develop certain physical features. Tiny
chiwawas and curly poodles didn't have a chance in the wild. But the planet
wasn't wild anymore. No harsh environment or physically demanding jobs, that
required muscle strength. The robots took over traditional men duties.
The procreation
was even easier. Cleaner, safer, well-planned genetically... And so, males
indeed became a decorative breed to entertain the prudent and cautious keepers
of the planet: women. Who'd never do anything risky or foolish. The era of
mischievous overgrown boys was over. The world has entered the new phase of
stability and prosperity. Led by the all-female economic council presided by
Arianna Orlov.
Laura wondered
how many other "special" islands she owned. Running all sorts of
experimental programs. It'd have been nice if she found a way to freeze the
boy's physical development, stopping their growth at ten. No doubt her
scientists were already working on that. In the meantime Laura had two and a
half years of living in a dream. Or nightmare for her son. She didn't wish him
ill. But one's dream is always somebody else's nightmare, isn't it?
To be continued...
(End of File)