Castle Bond


Part One

***

The car finally braked to a stop. “Yay,” My younger sister Jocasta exclaimed as she opened the door on her side. “Just about time to stretch my numb legs and arms.”

“You better stretch well,” my younger brother and the youngest in the family remarked. “It’ll be your last stretch for a long time…ow!” Jo pinched his arm.

“Stop it you two, this is a holiday, can’t you keep the quarrels away?” My Mother remarked.

Both my siblings glared at each other turned their backs as they helped pull out their luggage. A sudden breeze swept through the carpark and I furiously rubbed my bare arms and legs.

“Told you to dress warmly,” Mum remarked. Hey, this was suppose to be a holiday away from the dreary British winter, not one where the weather was still cold, I thought. Not replying, I yanked out my suitcase and followed my family towards the sign saying ‘Mandatory Registration Centre’. It was a short queue and next to us was a burly man in uniform. The whole place looked like that of an immigration centre.

“Ladies to the side,” he barked in a thick accent. “All ladies to the side, hands on your head.”

With our bags left with the men, we did as we were told. Nearly half an hour later, dad motioned us to a side room and simply said, “Ok, it’s time. Assume the position.” We each turned around and place our hands behind us. As soon as I did, I felt soft nylon rope draw them together and in just over a few minutes, my hands were bound behind my back. “Open wide,” I heard my brother say and as soon as I did, a thick cloth was inserted between my teeth and secured behind my back.

Ok, I’ll have to explain. This is not some weirdo family or punishment for us siblings. Rather it’s a family vacation to a mystery castle called Castle Bond in a small landlocked country in Europe near the Alps. The whole castle was built in the 16th Century and today it is a famous holiday resort with a twist: All female and only female guests must be restrained and gagged while in the castle. This dates back to the history of the castle where women staged an unsuccessful rebellion against the king and were bound and gagged as a punishment for months after. The owners of this castle, the Bond family, latched on to the history and visitors across the many decades accepted the idea. My family, well particularly my sisters, use to play lots of tie up games with the boys my eldest sister knew. My parents, well, seemed to also partake in this sort of activity. My youngest brother was only just introduced to TUGs when our parents caught us in the act. Instead of punishments, they admitted to us that they to played TUGs when they first met. A quick Google search revealed this place so it seemed perfect for all of us.

I tried to balance myself but it wasn’t easy, wearing heeled boots. “Ok,” my father announced as he secured the knot behind my mother’s head–all three of us were bound and gagged in the same fashion. “Jon, grab their bags. Let’s go, the main meeting will start soon.” My brother gave a slight remark that we over packed but dragged both our bags. Outside, other families and couples were streaming out of the centre. All ladies and girls were definitely bound and gagged in various ways with different accessories. All of them were in the company of some male or young boy. Dad had pre-registered in in advance and luckily for us there was a lift; I didn’t fancy using the steps in my condition. The room or rather suite we were allocated was huge, well, my family is huge. I’ve three other older sisters who would only be joining us tomorrow. That’s Avena, 25, Imogen, 29 and Sayle, 31, the oldest and the only sister married–she would be joining us with her husband, Martyn. Jo is 20, I’m 22, Jon just turned 18.

“Ok, we don’t have time to fully unpack now.” He reached over and undid my bonds. “You may just want to wash your hands and change your footwear.” I brought my hands to my gag but he waved. “No, your gag stays on, remember our agreement.” Ok, another explanation: Castle rules state that all women must be bound and gagged when outside, unless they have medical issues. But inside the rooms it is optional. Since our family has played TUGs, dad ruled that we would still be bound and gagged while inside our guest room. I head to my allocated bed and unzipped my bag, exchanging my boots for dark tights and sensible flat heeled shoes. After a quick handwash, I was back in the main common area to see my brother retying my sister. “Hands, Freyja,” Jon said. I’m sure you’re enjoying this, I thought as he tied my wrists again with the same rope. That was not the end as I saw both them pull up black cloths from the packets they were given.

“Whmmm?” I queried.

“They said all girls have to be blindfolded for the introductory meeting,” Dad explained and both men applied the blindfolds. They looked like ordinary black cloth but boy it immediately blocked out my vision. Unable to speak properly, move my hands or see, I was at the mercy of my brother as he guided both me and my sister back down. It was short walked through a corridor and my ears heard the noise of more individuals. Next, I felt hard surface as I was helped down on a chair. That was far from the end as I felt my ankles bound and more rope secured me to a chair. Then, someone tested a microphone and I heard a voice boom. “Ladies and gentlmen, welcome to Castle Bond….” The next two hours was an introductory speech about the castle and the main rules and regulations. Usually, I would rather read the powerpoint presentation or slides on the screen but without proper sight, I was forced to listen instead. “Ladies and gentlemen, please remember to sign up for the sessions tomorrow. We understand many of you have prior experience, but it is still compulsory to attend. With that, I wish you all an enjoyable stay.” Finally, we were released and soon back in our guest room. Since we all wanted to shower, it was bonds, blindfolds and gags off which was a welcome relief.

But soon enough, it was dinner and that was down at the restaurant below. I sauntered over to the partitioned side of of the room and looked at my suitcase. I picked out another strapped dress–I arrived in one–but this time added a thick cardigan, pulling on some black tights on wore the same shoes. I wasn’t about to wear heels for my first day. “You look stunning sis,” my brother commented as he yanked my hands behind me. “Mmmmm…ph,” I grunted at his comment and the tightening of the new ropes around my wrists. Another one of rope ropes went around my waist, pinning my arms to my back. Once again, I was guided by him and my father took my mother and Jo. In the lift, a guy and what looked like his girlfriend in a strapless black and patterned dress. She was extensively wrapped with ropes all over her arms, wrists and breasts and had a cleave a OTM gag. My father and brother greeted him and I initiated eye-to-eye contact with her. I could sense she was saying, you’re lucky girl, look at how much I’m trussed up.

A few more steps and we were at the hotel’s restaurant. “Good evening sir,” the maître d greeted my father. “Table for five? Will your wife and daughters be using their hands or require assistance?”

My father immediately replied, “We will be feeding them.” What the heck?!

“Very well sir. Margo,” he called. Suddenly, a waitress with a rather short skirt and patterned tights came up to us. What surprised me was that she was gagged with a red ball gag protruding out of her mouth. Her hands were cuffed in a rather long set of handcuffs in front of her and looking down, her ankles were also encased in leg irons. “Thsmwy,” She spoke through her gag and guided us to a table. As she handed out menus only to the men, I noticed that other female staff were similarly dressed, bound and gagged. Oh my gosh, they really were serious about this bondage!

Usually, I could engross myself over the various dishes on offer but being bound and gagged and with my brother sitting opposite me, I was deprived of that. Instead, he just read out the dishes. We ladies settled on the local river fish in breaded form while the men got steak. Such and agreement was done by gag speak. Margo, the waitress arrived with bread and expertly placed the rolls on our side plates despite her fetters! It was only after my brother buttered the roll did he reach over and and lower the cleave gag.

“Open wider sis,” he said and boy did it feel humiliating being fed by the baby of the family. The melting butter dripped down my chin.

“Jonathan, wipe it off.” No response. “Jonathan!” My father yelled.

“Yes, Dad.” Idiot, I thought silently. Just you wait when this trip is over.

Our mainly came and the spoon feeding continued with us ladies suffering under more humilitation. Finally,the last piece was swallowed. Dad held up my glass and I gratefully drank since the dish was quite salty. “That’s enough, you be using the loo too much.” Oh man, are you going to restrict our toilet usage just because we have to be bound all the time?

“Thnku, syammh,” our waitress remarked farewell in gag speak. Back in our room, dad allowed us to just be wrist bound but told us girls not to talk. Mum then mouth a few words silently.

“Your mother wants to retire soon. The TV can stay on, but not too loud. Don’t stay up too late; the sessions start at 10.”

“Night dad,” my brother said then turned to us girls. Suddenly, he tackled both of us down and tied both our ankles and knees. “Hey!” Jo cried.

“Oh you broke silence, do you want to shut up or be gagged.”

We both glared at him and accepted the light hog tie.

“Now, what’s on….” he flicked on the TV Surprisingly, all channels were in English but rather boring shows. Just over an hour later, we two girls were in bed, with our hands lightly bound in front of us and gagged with a small strip of medical tape. Thus ended the first evening in Castle Bond.

***

Part 2:

I was awaken by both the burst of sunlight and a hand shaking me. “Hey wake up, Freyja,” it was my Dad. “Time to rise; we’ve lots to cover today.” I instinctively tried to say “morning” but it came out as “mmrning”. It was then I saw the state I was in. But soon he undid my bindings and tape gag, giving me a sip from a bottle with a straw.

“You’ve less than ten minutes to the shower and out. Go!” It was like camp all over again and I did my best to scrub myself and stretch my limbs since I wouldn’t have the chance to do so for the rest of the day. Back out, I had barely changed back to my PJs and a bra when dad returned. Obediently, I accepted the cloth wrist bindings and cleave gag. The rest of the family was in the common dining area with Mum in her dressing gown and Jo opposite her. Both of them were also cleave gagged and from the looks, their wrists were also bound. My brother was bending down on my chair when my dad cleared his throat. “Not now.”

“But dad…”

“I said ‘not now’. Help Freyja sit.” I was glad dad didn’t want our ankles bound so early in the morning. With our gags lowered, it was spoon feeding time again. Dad had ordered a classic full English which was alright for me but not so when my brother literally shoved the food in my mouth and got the sauce and butter again on my chin. “Jonathan…” Dad scolded.

Well, it wasn’t better with the tea. First, my brother added too little milk and being told not to speak, it was hard to give corrections. Second, he nearly splash some of the hot drink on my lips. I gave up and gestured to the juice. Finally, another meal without the ability to use my hands was over. But there was not time to relax. “They said nothing special for the sessions, but girls should ideally be in skirts or dresses.” Jo gave a dejected look as she was never the skirt or dress type. “Weather is much warmer today so you can shed the hosiery. Get changed.”

I selected a thicker strapped cyan blue dress with the same bra yesterday and new black knickers. Back came rope for my wrists bindings, this tight more secure. The new cleave gag seem thicker or was it my brother’s evil plan for me? Jo, mum and me were made to knnel on the floor while our ankles were given a “leg-iron” type rope binding. “Ok,” dad said, re-checking mum’s bonds. “I’ll be heading back down to pick up Avena, Imogen, Martyn and Sayle. Jonathan,” he turned to my brother. “Watch over all. And that’s it. Not additional binding, no additional gags, no dirty play, you got it?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes Dad.” I hope you mean that, I thought, and luckily he did. Around fifteen minutes later, the door opened to reveal my brother-in-law, Martyn, and my other sisters. Avena was in an ankle length skirt with black ropes circling her lower torso and her wrists behind her back. Her cleave gag was was black as well. Imogen, my red-haired sister, was in a red tube top with a rather short jeans skirt. She was bound and gagged similarly but with coarse brown rope. Sayle, the married sister, was also bound and gagged in the same way, wearing a knee length translucent dress. All girls were brought down to the floor near us but Imogen emitted a “omw!” as Jon brought her down.

Dad gave him another verbal reprimand and Imogen quickly crossed her legs lest there be an upskirt. “Alright, welcome all. As you know, despite our own history and experience, we still have to attend a session which will teach us everything from basic ties to advance bondage. But as a family, we still have some major rules of our own for these few weeks of stay. One, all ladies will still be restrained and gagged in their rooms unless scenarios or orders are changed. Two, no one is to wonder off by themselves, boy or girl. All female members must be accompanied by one of us guys at all times, unless we formally allow other men to escort you. Three, we will still give toilet breaks despite the daily restraining and gagging. If you need to go urgently, say “mmmph, mmmph” loudly. Safe word for removal of restraint is “mmm” for restraint and “mmpph” with a shake for your gag. Other rules will be what they dictate and what happens as well go along. Got it?”

We girls nodded. Dad continued, “Ok, Despite the uneven ratio, here’s how it goes. I’ll take Donna (that’s my my mother) and Imogen. Jonathan, you take Freyja and Jocasta. Martyn, Sayle and Avena. Let’s go.” Jo’s ankle bonds were off and my brother dusted her black skirt. Then it was my turn with his right arm holding me and Jo on his left. Even though I had chosen flat heeled shoes, it still wasn’t easy balancing myself. Luckily, we were the only ones in the lift–perks of such a large family. Downstairs, couples and families were all heading to the conference room again, with daughters, mothers and girlfriends all bound and gagged in various fashions. Dad presented a card to the guard at the door when I spied two different lines. “Ladies this way, men that way,” the guard waved.

“But, we’re a family,” my dad protested.

“This is how it will be for the session. Don’t worry, you’ll see each other after.” Wishing us ‘bye’ and ‘good luck’ they, joined the male queue while other marshals guided us ladies. One clip tags on our left breast area. “You’ll see why,” he said as he ushered us in.

All the ladies were hustled to one corner and then men directly opposite them. “Alright, silence!” Some six-foot tall guy in faded jeans and checkered shirt said. “It’s quite simple. You all have number tags but you girls are well silenced. Each guy will step forward call out their number and the girl with the corresponding number will pair with him. Got it? Go!” It was a messy work of calling and a guy shorter than my 1.75m height was paired with me. “Hi, I’m Carter,” he said, holding out his hand then realising the silliness, withdrew it.

“Oh, pairs, step forward.” The session was about to start.

***

This part is inspired by sarobah’s story/stories “The resort”

***
Part 3:

I inched forward when suddenly Carter’s hand shot out. It felt cold and the grip wasn’t as strong as my brother’s. “Mmm,” I mumbled, not showing either disgust or like at the moment.

“Couples, take a seat on any part of the matted area,” the same man said and still held by Carter, we both did. I quickly crossed my legs though I guessed that there would be unintentional or forced up skirts later. “Alright all,” the guy introduced himself as Erik with a ‘k’, and he was one of the descendent of the original owners of the castle. Next to him was a girl in a spaghetti top and knee length skirt, with a OTM white gag and ropes around her busts, wrists behind her back. Erik introduced her as Karin and continued briefly outlining what was on the programme.The workshop would be divided into three two-hour sessions during the daytime, a lunch break, same format for the afternoon and a final two hour in the evening. First, we ladies were all unbound and gags off but told to be silent. The firs session was called “Basics” and that’s what it was – nothing really new to me, although I picked up a few handy hints about stuff like the best materials to use in different circumstances: rope, tape, that sort of thing. Then we were given basic gags–cleave with different cloth, cleave stuffed, OTM, OTM stuffed, tape of all kinds of tape and tape stuffed. By the end of it, Carter had me bound with a blue nylon rope and hankie stuffed in my mouth with gaffer tape over. This session also involved advice from Erik for us girls: a good warm-up is the best way to prepare yourself, physically and mentally, for a tie-up session. It helps you to relax when under stress and also to become more flexible. “You’ll be able to enjoy the TUG or bondage then,” he said. TUGs or bondage or whatever we wish to call it is like a spiritual awakening–you are denied ability to move in the world around you, your gag prevents communication and, he held up a piece of cloth, “your eysight is gone.” Yeah, back to the good ol’ blindfold, I thought, as I felt the knot against my skull. ” But when you’re cut off from the world, You discover strength in your vulnerability, power in your submission, self-reliance in your helplessness, sensuality in your suffering, ecstasy in your agony, joy in your shame, intense self-awareness in your sensory deprivation….” He droned on and on.

The final part of this session was a timed tie-and-gag session to see which team was be the fastest to get the girl bound and gagged. Erik yelled out several combinations like “cloth only” or “rope and cleave” or “rope and stuff”. While it was quite fun to race, it was also really physically taxing and many girls and women suffered rope burns. Carter wasn’t fast enough but Imogen and her parter, Donald, got third place for two combinations. “You’ll get your prizes later,” was the only comment. It was a short breaktime and water was passed around, again with us girls wrists bound behind our backs–Carter chose tape.

The next part moved to more advanced stuff like hogties. These were just with rope but with cloth. Hogties in my view are the more physically torturing as the strain muscles all over. Then, chairs were brought out and Erik taught chair ties of various forms, again with simple material. Then came out tables. “Table tie,” Erik said. “Classic in ancient and modern times for interrogation and torture.” Soon enough, my hands and legs were spread out like a starfish and tied with rope. I’ve hardly done table ties or spreadeagle ties before and it seemed just as bad as hogties. “Ok, next,” he called. But that was not a call to relax. Rather, it was time for stuff like elbow ties. We started with a fairly loose binding, which was gradually tightened until – at least in some cases – our elbows came close to contact. Of course, as we know the major attraction is not that it totally immobilizes your arms, but rather the ornamentally enhancing effect it has on your breasts. By hauling back on your shoulders it forces your boobs outwards; and for the likes of myself, not generously endowed in that department, the enforced posture is rather flattering.

Next, we progressed to the lotus technique. This is where your legs, with ankles crossed, are drawn up folded to your breasts, and you are forced to bend forward at the waist until your shoulders are between your knees and your chin almost touches your heels. A rope is looped behind your neck and tethered to your ankles to keep you restrained in your balled-up position. With your hands still bound behind your back, this is a very effective arrangement because you’re completely helpless, unable to move anything – except maybe wiggle your fingers and toes. It’s also very taxing on your muscles and joints.

The came the ball tie, which was a little more relaxing but definitely meant dresses up for many and knickers exposed for the boys to see. I’m sure Carter was aroused well before that with the various TUGs/bondage, but his face didn’t show. I strained to see the other family members. Jonathan is probably well having his briefs soaked with semen now, I thought. Sayle to Avena? I only spotted Imogen again. I was most concerned for mum–she wasn’t the kind of accept stannous bondage especially with a strange guy. Was she given some one around her age or some young squirt?

***

Part 4:

Finally, it was lunch time and it was a good selection of bite-size food and international fare. Of course, it was boy-feed-girl but unlike my brother, Carter was much more careful not to get any sauce or liquid on my face or chin. He gave a short introduction of himself–German on his mother’s side, American on his father’s side, taking a gap year before taking a physics degree at a top Ivy League university. Interesting but well, not really one for immediate dating. Lunch over, the stuff tape gag went back on. The afternoon was for more advanced bondage and several younger girls politely dropped out.

“Breast bondage time,” Erik announced. Ok, that’s not too bad if done properly. My partner failed to do so properly and caused me to moan (not erotic moans) from the pain. Finally, with Erik’s help, he got it right and boy did that also push my 34B boobs out. Just when I thought it was over, Erik said, “Ok now we’ll try that again, with just underwear on.” What?! But lo really, all the female folk were untied and took off their out clothing. Oh well, they did say this was the more advanced TUG/bondage part. With my hands undone, I dropped my dress to the ground, revealing my black lingerie underneath. I heard a typical boy’s “woohoo” from Carter as he rebound my wrists and started work on the second round of breast bondage. He was a little faster this time. As he finished, Erik and Karin, wearing a silky red lingerie set with exquisite breast bondage and thick OTM gag, approached. “No, this rope goes here, and tighten that knot,” he told Carter. As Carter re-did the corrections, my boobs really protruded out. I also became a little unbalanced and nearly fell down, had Carter not caught me.

“Okay, I see you you all are alright with this. Now boys, tied a overhand knot on a very long piece of rope.” Oh, what now? Next, the boys soon tied on over our bare stomach area and I knew what this was: crotch rope. I was made to lie to the side and “mmmph” Eric yanked the rope between my buttocks and pulled it tight against my knickers-clad crotch, fastening it again the waist rope. “And girls, relax.” But that was hardly an order to be followed since almost immediately, the knot pressed hard against clitoris and it soon swelled. Very quickly, it started to swell and I gave a short grunt through the gag. Then I believe the muscles there began contract there and my vagina juices started to flow out. then, “Mmmmahmm,” the orgasm came. It lasted for a few minutes and I rolled about on the matted floor as did other girls. The resolution phase came but the crotch rope did it work again and the cycle repeated itsself. All the women were rolling on the floor and we couldn’t help but collide into each other. I then spied mum in her high waist white knickers. Her breast bondage appeared looser but she had two knots instead of one for her crotch rope and boy was she moaning alot!

Erik left us girls in this erotic stage for just over an hour before he instructed the boys to remove the crotch rope. My knickers was not wet with all my vaginal juice and I myself was soaked with sweat. A quick drink and our breast bondage was removed and our outer clothes were back on. It was more advance gags time and they gave a series of ball gags, penis gags, butterfly gags, ring gags, jennings gags harness gags and all the other various adult gags around five minutes each. Erik finally said that girls could indicate their preferred gag and I nodded to the panel gag. As soon as the went on, he said, “now it’s chains time.” Oh yeah, handcuffs and leg irons! Those that they provided here felt lighter but firmer than the ones I’ve used before in my TUGs involving my sisters. Then finally it was to leather cuffs and then to plastics ties/handcuffs.

Before we knew it, it was dinner time. It was pretty rapid feeding and then the gags came back on with only a small sip of water. “Ok, we’ll let you girl’s pee, in various groups.” If you think this was normal no. Our wrists were handcuffed to our front and our legs were still locked in leg irons. If you wore a not too long dress or skirt, it might be easy to lift it up or drop it down and wipe your female private part. But for most of us ladies it wasn’t the case, so it was a huge challenge just to answer the call of nature. Back in the main room, the last session was test time. Carter still struggled with the various forms of ropes but scored high with basic gags especially tape gags and the more advanced bondage. Prizes were given out and we got runners up for zip ties and panel gags combo. Imogen got her prize from earlier and that was the end of it. “Alright, enjoy yourselves for he remainder of your stay her. If there’s any questions you can Whatsapp me at…” He gave a number and all the men folk clapped.

We were soon reunited with our own family members and retied and re-gagged in the same manner. Back in the sanctuary of our guest room, we ladies changed into casual wear. Mum as she was the night before, turned in earlier, while the male folk had to unpack the suitcases of the new arrived sisters–perks of being bound and gagged! The TV was turned on and somehow the channel was a local programme from the Castle itself. On it was a newcaster, ball gagged and handcuffed, reading in gag speak!!! We all watched before we all called it a night. This time, it was thick tape gag, and tape around my wrists–thankfully in front–and ankles. “Night sis,” my brother greeted and it was darkness.

***

Part 5:

I woke up to the feeling of both a dry throat and a roughly shaking hand. “Get up sis, it’s bright and early,” I heard my brother call. No sooner had he removed my gag did he clamp his hand down on my mouth. “No talking,” he hissed, and I gave my best glare at him. Why would I, I thought. He roughly brought me up, dragged me to the bathroom and told me to brush my teeth. Giving him a quizzing look, I did as told then suddenly spied the red ball gag in his hands. “Wh…” I began but he clamped his hand over my mouth.

“Dad’s orders. Every lady must be ball gagged for breakfast.” I shook my head, not believing him.

“It’s true,” my brother growled and pinched my nose, allowing him to push the dreaded ball in side and secure the gag. “Ten minutes for bath. Don’t you try remove the gag.” Shaking my head in amazement, I managed to shower. Outside, i found my brother had laid out the shortest skirt I brought and a tube top.

“Nmmm,” I shook my head. I’m not letting you dictate my dress code so early on.

“Ok, but you won’t be so lucky later on. I’ll turn around.” I made sure he did then pulled on a fresher pair of knickers, plain beige bra and normal T-shirt and jeans. At the table, all the women were similarly gagged with either red or ball black gags and wrist bound with tape. “Alright, from now on, morning shows will be taken with ball gags unless you feel ill. There’s no reason for you to talk there.” Dad finally removed our ball gags and the men–dad, my brother, my brother-in-law–feed us a cold cereal breakfast. “Today it’s a day tour of the castle. We’ll all go and and different stages of the tour, you ladies will get types of bondage.” The first one was tape. Tape was over not just my wrists but my elbows, really restricting my arm movement. The tape was was further secured with a piece of clean cloth in each of our mouths. My brother was watching over me and my other sister Avena. Dad took Jo and Imogen, my brother in law took mum and Sayle. In the lift, we met an elderly couple who looked as old as my grandparents. The lady was in a lose cleave gag and cloth bindings. The boys greeted them and downstairs, we all headed for the quite evidentlong queue. Everywhere, women and girls of all ages were bound and gagged in different ways. The young children were either cloth gagged or had loose wrist bindings or light duct tape gagging and bindings. Some young teenagers had bulging mouths, indicating that they were stuffed like us daughters. Those around our young adult age had more secure rope or even leather ties. Some chose to use plastic or metallic handcuffs, while other just did all rope. Gags for late teens and above included all kinds, from the cleave gag to the Jennings or ring gags which really tortured your jaw. Not a single girl was left unbound or ungagged. Even if girls travelled in all female groups, male staff from castle would escort them.

Dad got the tickets for the tour and us girls even had badges pinned to our breast area. “Welcome to Castle Bond’s day tour, I’m your guide Johannes,” a tall lanky man is a slight German accent greeted us. “Men, please ensure that your ladies are securely bound and gagged, especially those 12 years and above. Also, do not lose sight of your ladies. Alright, follow me.” We did so then he pointed out areas which we have seen the day before. “That’s the main entrance of the castle completed in 1600. The gate is still visible but hardly lowered and raised due to need for repair; we’ve constructed doors instead. Over there is the conference room. It was the main meeting room for King Bond and inner council during his year of reign. Major planning and dinners have occurred there.” We moved further past the restaurant my family had dinner the first night. That wasn’t around in those days. We passed by several arch ways and I was surprised to see a moat running near our feet.

“Yes, this is a moat. King Bond instructed that they channel the moat within, not around the castle,” Johannes explained. But our gagged cries were more directed towards the wooden gallows structure in the middle. “Oh, yes, that’s the King’s main display, but not if you guessed, for hanging. Rather. women would be secured to poles over there and made standing for hours while water or dirty stuff would be thrown at them. Our menfolk guided us closer and the small notice did indeed it mentioned that ladies would be bound to poles–there where several poles sticking out from the structure, making it not like a normal gallows. “Today, female guests can be secured to the structure but only regulated water sprays and wet sponges will be thrown at them.”

“Cool thingy. Can’t wait to try it out,” my brother commented. Asshole, I thought. You just love to see us sisters suffer.

Johannes then led us inside a small door where I nearly bummed my head Inside was a narrow corridor with rooms, no they were jail cells, but the bars were shiny. “The King and the knights would bring captive girls, and sometimes men, and lock them up in the cells, still bound and for the ladies, gagged. “Cuffs were rare in the early days, but soon iron fetters were available.” As we moved closer, we saw the inside of the cells contain either a plain wooden bed with metallic cuffs on four corners or a single chair, also with cuffs at the front legs and arms rests.

“These are modern tables and chairs, but yes, if the women had committed serious crimes, there was no need to go through court, they would be sent down here and locked to either the chair or table. This would happen for nearly 24/7, with only breaks for food and the toilet. Today, females can either be restrrained to the table or chair for a period of time, or you can request them to be removed and try your own different restraints and gags there.”

“Great!” My brother said and Jo and I gave him an annoyed glare.

“Break time,” Johannes said. “Five minutes and we’ll resume the tour.”

***

Part 6

Dad, my brother-in-law and my brother approached us bound and gagged ladies. “Ok, gags off first then we’ll all give you a drink, then it’s ropes and undies and tape gag.”

Undies? I thought. Oh yes, knickers or panty gags. But this thought was interrupted as I saw my brother approach. Please don’t…he peeled off the adhesive gag slowly but there still was the sting and quite possibly a red mark. He eased out the saliva-soaked cloth and I coughed in response.

“Sssh, no talking.” I wasn’t you fool, I thought but gratefully accepted the bottle of water to my lips. It wasn’t exactly cold water not did it taste like the mineral water I knew but it was a grateful quench of thirst.”That’s it; don’t wanna make you pee.” I glared at him but he simply moved and cut away the bonds around my arms and wrists. I expected to get time to rub the circulation back but nope, he immediately tighten cotton ropes around the same area and before I knew it, I bound tightly again.

“Less than two minutes before we begin again folks,” Johannes called.

“Open wide sis,” my brother said and I noticed something bunched in his hand. I shook my head but knew it was inevitable. The cotton undies were jammed in and not one bit protruded out. Ripp! came the sound and soon enough, two strips of the same tape sealed my undies inside. “They are your beige ones, picked out from your suitcase when you were sleeping,” he added. Asshole, asshole.

I turned and saw dad slap the same tape on mum’s lips. “Alright people. Gentlemen; gather your ladies, the tour is about to begin again.” Once more my brother’s hand grabbed my arm and I was quite helpless as we moved off into a larger room. Inside were several tables but clearly, they weren’t for eating or decoration. They did have ropes or leather straps connected to them. “This is the rack chamber,” Johannes started. “The King and his inner circle would bring ladies charged with any offences here, strip them to their underwear or naked, and interrogate them until they confessed. For some strange reason, this chamber is the first phase before they bring the confessed ladies to the rooms you saw earlier.”

“How do they interrogate them?” One guy asked.

“For the minor offences, it was simply verbal questioning and humiliation. For serious offences, cold water, heated objects were used. For even more serious,” he gestured to another set of tables. “Whips and various devices would be struck.”

“Wow, wee…” my brother breathed. “Can we actually…”

“Jaigo, we aren’t in the business of making of humiliating the ladies or torturing them.” my father growled. Yeah that’s right little boy, don’t you dare try to strap me to that.

“We do allow ladies to be restrained to them in their lingerie,” he remarked, mispronouncing the last word. “But if you go naked, you must sign a consent form. And we monitor activities at all stations. Our staff will step in my we suspect action that is too extreme.” That didn’t make me feel any better.

“Over here is something rather new but similar,” our guide continued and we entered what really looked like a medical operating room. Inside were four metal tables, with medical restraints and medical instruments by the side.

“This is a modern addition; the kingdom naturally wasn’t that advanced. As the room suggest, this is for medical play. As before, ladies and well gents must sign consent forms if they want to be naked and no excessive play will be allowed. Both these areas are off limits to children and young teens.” I heard couple of muttering of affirmative. No way should that happen.
We moved out into day light and by now, my knickers–the one in my mouth–was definitely soaking with all my saliva. It had not dried out my throat yet, but I guess that would change shortly. Johannes asked us to move single file along the walkway. Mum moved first, her mouth bulging with her high waist undies–I could see part of it stick out of her mouth. Dad followed after her. Next was Sayle with her husband steadying her, how cute. The red-headed Imogen, then Avena, then me and Jocasta, with my brother behind both of us. A couple of minutes later, I heard Johannes mention something when, WHUMP! I bumped into a frame.

“…careful of the arch way, it’s short.” Thanks for saying that after it happened, I groaned in my head and through the panty gag.

“Hey, you alright?” I turned to see….

TBC

A New Doctor


Trying to calm myself, I knocked rapidly on the door.

“Enter,” was the curt remark. Inside, I found two individuals, a grey-haired man, maybe in his fifties or sixties and a plumb lady with the name “Roberts” stencilled on her left breast.

“Doctor…Carter Jamieson?” The grey-haired man read out from his open folder.

“That’s me. Doctor…?”

“Henderson. George Henderson.” He gestured to the single seat in front of him. “I’ll be quick. First in your class in medicine. Recommended by lecturer to pursue any medical specialisation. Worked in young offender’s home, police behavioural department…you haven’t any medical experience, have you?”

“No but…”

“And you specifically and only wrote down ‘mental health’ as opposed to other medical issues. Why?”

“I’ve always an interest in cure the mental well-being of individuals. I believe any state of mind can be rectified and…”

“Ok, we’re in a hurry today. Nurse, give Rd. Jamieson the file so he can read as we walk.” Before I could even open the folder, they shot up and exited back into the hallway. Scurrying to catch up, I open the file. It was a long ‘essay’ reporting about an 18-year-old female named Catherine Granger. She had a history of anger tantrums and cases of violence, the latest destroying university property, injuring two tutors and four lecturers, causing them to suspend her and her scholarship.

“Here we are,” the nurse announced, swiping a card to reveal a rather small room with a large black screen in front and another door.

“Wait here until you are called,” the doctor said, as the nurse buzzed the two of them through the door. As it banged shut, I felt a wave of helpless surround me. Calming myself again, I look around and saw a switch near the screen. Curiosity building up, I flicked it and the screen rolled up to reveal a two-way mirror. There, the senior doctor and the nurse stood around a young girl, most definitely the subject Catherine, who was dressed in a dark blue spaghetti top, black bra straps visible, and in tight shiny black jeans. The three of them were definitely engaged in conversation but there seemed to be no audio speakers around. Having no ability to lip read, I could only guess they were arguing about the girl’s anger problems. Suddenly, the girl shot up and definitely shouted at the two medical staff. She ran towards the locked door, slamming violently against it. She spun around and was about to strike Dr Henderson when Nurse Roberts grabbed her and to my shock, the doctor stabbed her arm! The teenager suddenly collapsed down on the ground.

“Hey, let me in!” I cried, pressing against the locked doorknob. It finally opened.

“I said for you to wait Jaimeson,” Henderson said irritably. “But since we let you in, help Miss Granger out of her clothes.”

“Out of…her CLOTHES?!” I cried.

“Hey, you want to pipe down? She’s a violent girl and had to be sedated. We are preparing her for the jacket.” I turn to see the nurse already yanking off the girl’s top to reveal her full bra. “Go on help her.”

“Is this right…legal? I thought we talk thoroughly with patients first, then help them into jackets clothed.”

“She’s really violent and was going to assault me. Now, help Nurse Johnson; the drug won’t keep her unconscious for long.”

I hesitated then bent down. The nurse had already unbuttoned her jeans to reveal pink bikini knickers underneath. The nurse turned her around with some of my help and unhooked her bra. That off, she peeled off the lower underwear and turned the girl back flat down. Immediately, despite my medical education, I felt a sharp erection.

“Check her for contraband and items,” was the order. I started to question it, but the nurse proceeded as instructed checking her hair, ear lobes, nostrils, parting her lips, then searching, or rather quite fondling her breasts, poking her fingers up her anus and parting her vaginal lips.

“Clean,” she said, snapping off her gloves. Out of nowhere, the nurse produced a thick white straitjacket and something else which appeared to be a pair or slightly thicker ‘granny knickers’. Those went up to cover her vulva. Then, with more prodding from Henderson, I helped the nurse slip the ‘sleeping’ girl’s arms into the straitjackets sleeves. Instead of the single or double straps for the front there were three and at the back there were four instead of three. The nurse sealed the back straps first and there were buckled instead of Velcro. She then, with some of my help, folded Catherine’s arms horizontally, threading them through two loops before sealing the front bonds. Finally, the ‘crotch strap’ locked her into place. Testing the ‘gown’ for any loose parts, the nurse declared the unconscious patient ready.

“Ok thanks, nurse. I have to move on somewhere. Dr Jamieson, perhaps you and the nurse like to help our patient to the vehicle?”

That vehicle turned out to be a white rather unmarked van and boy was the girl heavy to drag up into the back. “One last thing, ankle cuffs,” the nurse said.

“We’ve done her like a prisoner to Guantanamo Bay,” I protested.

“Hey Doc, ever had a patient kick you in the balls?” The cuff went on and suddenly, the girl stirred. “Wh..” She mumbled.

“Oh yeah, this as well,” and to further shock, the nurse presented a panel gag–I’ve seen BDSM parties before–which was expertly locked around the girl’s head, turning her conscious cries into whimpered sounds.

“Let’s roll,” the nurse said in a wall intercom.

The drive took around twenty minutes and the vehicle’s noise masked any conversation. Actually, there was none since the nurse stared away from me and the girl across from me was tightly gagged. I could definitely see her protest through the gag and shift around in her bonds and was quite sympathetic towards her. Moreover, I was quite shocked over the series of events from the interview to the striping to the straitjacket and now to this ride. The vehicle jerked to a stop and the nurse swung the doors open. Without any bidding, I unbuckled the straitjacketed girl and we both helped her down through the security card-locked doors. The reception area was nearby and the nurse trotted over, signing away at the counter.

“Hey doctor, I can take it from here. You may need to get your administrative stuff cleared, get the security cards and what not. I think Doc Henderson said to report at 0830 tomorrow? There are bunks. Night.” With that, she pulled the poor, still quite groggy girl out of sight.

Still bewildered, I took several deep breaths before turning to the duty nurse and getting the necessary items ready. “Through those doors, take two rights pass through locked doors and there’s the doctor’s sleeping quarters,” she said. “Oh, Doc said you might want to read this,” I was given a thick folder titled, “Henderson Mental Hospital: Policies, and Solutions.”

To Be Continued

 

 

University of Birmingham and University of Warwick topless and nude girls


University of Birmingham and University of Warwick topless and nude girls

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Contact Harriet Wingfield, 5’8 girl: harriet_4343@hotmail.co.uk

 

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Improving studies: Nappies for schoolgirls


Dear Parents and Girls of Solihall High,

As you might know, there was an unusual policy implemented by our “special relationship” cousins across the Atlantic. They ruled that wearing nappies (British English) would help a student concerntrate more and prevent any cheating/plagiarism during examinations.

The senior management board has evaluated this policy and discussed it it with the PTA and the wider community and have agreed to adopt a similar policy. Hence forth, it is mandatory for all students to wear a nappy to school. We will not allow girls to use the toilet for urniation and only for defeaction. If a girl needs to use the toilet, she will be inspected by a duty staff member or prefect.

In implementing this policy, all girls must wear nappies during school hours and school-related activities. Prefects and staff members will inspect all girls upon arrival at the school and random checks will be made across the day. Only proper tape on nappies are allowed; no pull ups or pads or washable knickers. If a girl fails to comply with this policy, she will receive demerit points, detention or possible expulsion from the school.

We will be lenient and let parents choose any kind of nappies for their daughter to wear. As our school covers Year Seven (12/13) to Sixth Form girls, the nappy brand may differ but once again they must be tape on nappies. We recommend products from Abena, Attends or Tena or even Molicare. The school will set aside a small financial fund for parents to buy such nappies.

Changing at school: Will be performed by the school nurse and only the school nurse. In some circumstances, male and female teachers might change the girls during school hours.

If you have read the case in the US, you may have heard girls are just in nappies during examination times. We alter the policy and have a room for all girls to change out of their uniform. They will wear only their nappies and a translucent gown provided. During examinations, no child is allowed to leave the room at all so we suggest girls have a light breakfast to prevent defecation during the examination time period.

With this policy, we hope that your girl will have an even more enriching experience with our school.

I attached the new school uniform criteria below.

Yours Sincerely,

P. Seager

(Principal)

 

School Uniform:

Blazer with School crest

Jumper with School crest (during winter months)

Tie with school logo

White Blouse

White or Beige normal bra. No coloured bras are allowed. Non lacy and non silk.

Blue skirt no less than three inches above knees

Adult/Youth Nappies (No exceptions! No knickers over nappies, no pullups/goodnites allowed)

Dark Blue Tights (40 Denier during spring to early autumn, 70 Denier during cold/winter months), girls may wear stockings and garter belts, but same ruling applies

Flat-heeled school shoes

Sports uniform:

School issued shirt/tank top

White coloured or beige or dark  coloured coloured sports bra (non T or Y backed)

sports skirt/shorts

Adult/Youth pullups (No exceptions! Students will be change back to their nappies after sports.)

socks (school issued)

trainers

For swimming: School will issue all girls with a one piece swimsuit with an in built nappy in it. Please approach swimming teacher for more details.

Leotard with pullup (for gym lessons, again nappy to be put back on after lesson)

***

Dear Principal Seager,

I have read, with much surprise, your letter regarding the new dress code for my daughter. She has just turned 13 and donned her first bra, thus is entering womanhood. The prospect of her wearing nappies again is naturally quite frightening.  I have read the news about the usage of nappies in American schools but I’m still not convinced about the usage in her school. Yes my girl’s grades aren’t exactly top but are you sure that putting her in nappies will assist in her performance?

Mrs. T. Bebbington

***

A Year Eight student chats with a boy on an Instant Messaging (IM):

 kathykat has logged in.

 

 sammystriker has logged in

 

sammystriker (10:00pm): Hi kathy

 

kathykat is typing…

 

kathykat (10:01): Hi Sam.

 

sammstriker: How’s it going. What are you up to this Sunday evening?

 

kathykat is typing…

 

kathykat (10:02): The usual, finishing up homework for school. But more surfing the net.

 

sammstriker: Oh yeah, you go to that school, Solihall?

 

kathykat: Uh yeah…

 

sammstriker: Is it…that school where you wear nappies to school?

 

kathykat: :~ oh you heard….

 

sammstriker: Everyone’s been chatting about it Kathy. You actually have to wear them? New school rules???

 

kathykat: Ouch…yeah it’s some silly idea but it’s compulsory. Apparently the P got the idea from some Yank school across the pond.

 

sammstriker: Oh so cool!

 

kathykat: It’s not cool! It sucks! Such a weird policy!

 

sammstriker: Sawr…ry. I feel for yah. It does sound crazy.

 

kathykat: Yeah, well there’s no way out of it, especially during test and exams. You have to wear it and that’s all But I try my best to ignore it.

 

sammstriker (10:06): Oh…only a nappy?!!

 

kathykat: Yes. Don’t start dreaming about it pls.

 

sammstriker (10:08): Nah…promise. And you have to wear it all day at sch?

 

kathykat: Yeah. The check you in the morning  and do random checks through the day.

 

sammstriker: Yikes! what happens if you are caught not wearing one?

 

kathykat is typing…

 

kathykat: You get put back in on and not allowed to wear your skirt or tights for the rest of the day. Demerit points and/or detention…

 

sammstriker: Ouch, and I thought my school rules were harsh…

 

kathykat: You have a boring yet sane school. Lucky boy.

 

sammstriker: Sorry that you have to suffer. Do you really have to er use them?

 

kathykat: Yeah for pee. We can still do number 2 in the toilet but the teachers check.

 

sammstriker: Yikes! What happens if you pee in them?

 

kathykat (10:12): Uh…

 

sammstriker: Ok prodding too much.

 

kathykat: Well them you are forbidden from using the loo in school. You have to poo…

 

kathykat is typing…

 

kathykat: hold on BRB in a few minutes?

 

sammstriker: K

 

kathykat is typing…

 

sammstriker: Back?

 

kathykat (10:30): Yeah sorry mum called. She wanted to show me the creams and other supplies she bought.

 

sammstriker: Oh…wha…ok you need those for changing. You said something about poo?

 

kathykat: Uh yeah if you use the toilet to pee, then you have to poo in your nappy before you can use the toilet for poo again…

 

sammstriker: Gross. They are really fixed on this idea…

 

kathykat: Yeah….weirdos…if you want I’ll send you the file…

 

kathykat is sending School_policy_nappies.pdf

 

File received

 

sammstriker: Hmmm….wow that’s a lot of rules!

 

kathykat: Yeah :(😦  Tis the life of of a gal in Solihall…

 

sammstriker (10:36): Heh. Do you think you can stand it? It’s through out the whole year right?

kathykat: Till you finish your GCSEs or As…Hold on again…changing to nightie…

 

kathykat (10:41): back.

 

sammstriker: You must look cute.

 

kathykat: Sam!

 

sammstriker: *Holds up hands in surrender* It’s a compliment Kathy!

 

kathykat: Oh…ok. You do treasure normal clothing especially during weekends.I Especially wearing knickers….

 

sammstriker: I can’t believe the whole community approved of this..

 

kathykat: Me neither. Supposedly its going to be debated in government or what not….I don’t get politics though or those in power. I’m just  a normal teen…

 

sammstriker: *pats you on the back*

 

kathykat (10:49): Thanks.

 

sammstriker: But really, do ya feel you study better with a nappy on?

 

kathykat: I dunno. Peeing in your nappy felt like wetting yourself at first. Then you figure you aren’t going to the toilet in school so often. Then you can only look down at your books.

 

kathykat is typing…

 

kathykat is typing…

 

kathykat (10:57): It’s getting late. Got to check up that I finished everything or I get even more punishment from teachers.

 

sammstriker: :( Stay safe little one.

 

kathykat: Little nappied gal :(😦

 

sammstriker: Well try hard and maybe they will stop it. Do you take the usual school bus?

 

kathykat (10:58): It’s a new one. But it will soon return to the usual route.

 

sammstriker: Great. Then I get to meet you in the mornings.

 

kathykat: Ah! Then you’ll see me in such an embarrassing state!

 

sammstriker: Well you are clothed.

 

kathykat (10:59): Oh. Ok. We can meet up soon. Got to go…

 

sammstriker: Okie. Good luck.

 

kathykat: Thanks Sam. You too. Bye.

 

sammstriker: Bye.

 

kathykat has logged out.

 

sammstriker has logged out.

***

 

How to improve a girl’s studies: Nappy them!

 

Local school adopts a controversial move to improve grades

 

By: Anne Cheatle

 

Part 1:

 

I walk through the school gates in the earl morning. Like so many schools, girls in their school uniforms enter through the gates. Unlike other female schools, here girls form several long lines with several teachers at the front. Each girl has their skirt lifted up, their tights lowered and their crotch and buttocks touched. Some girls are channelled off to a different line while the majority head straight for their classes…

 

Welcome to Solihall Girl’s School. where it is now mandatory for all students from 12 to 17/18 (or Year Seven to Sixth Form) to wear not knickers or pants underneath, but nappies. Yes, nappies, like any toddler, bedwetter or incontinent person would need. “The idea came from Sunny Vail School in the US,” explained Principal Seager. “I read news articles and reports on how the school ask students to come in absorbent underwear, especially during remedial lessons. Then the policy switch towards the students wearing nothing but diapers or nappies during exams to reduce toilet breaks and prevent them from writing information on their clothes or limbs. Soon the policy spread to cover all lessons and amazingly, student’s grades improve dramatically. I further read independent reports that ascertained the effect of students wearing nappies. So I decided to implement it in this school.”

 

“Just like that?” I asked.

 

“Solihall has had a recent history of poor grade performance and girls turning towards crime and other despicable activities. Simultaneously, we have a group of student’s struggling to concentrate in order to get good GSSCE and A level grades. So I held a board meeting and a PTA meeting and a meeting with the town council. A majority vote decided in favour.”

 

“So exactly what happens?”

 

“Well as you can see in the morning, the girls have to form a queue to get inspected by teachers. Those caught not wearing a tape of nappy–it must be tape on and not a pull up–or not wearing at all will be sent to be put into one by our discipline master, Mr. Goddard. Through the whole school day, that means until a student leaves the school grounds, she must wear a tape on nappy. There will be random unannounced check through the school day to ensure girls are still wearing their nappies. Yes, instead of asking to go to the toilet, girls are expect to use their nappies.”

 

I ask if it is for both. “No, we aren’t that cruel; we say the nappy is for urinating only, which after all, is the main reason why students ask to go to the toilet. For number 2, they can use the the toilet for it but only for that only. If they are caught urinating in the toilet, even a small bit, they will be forbidden to use the toilet and only allowed to if they crap in their nappy once.”

 

It sounds terribly strict but it works. Principal Seager shows me a record of the student’s performance ever since the scheme, as it is known, was announced. Many students have rapidly improved in their grades.  Students have improved in all subject areas, far better than predicted. “Half a class will be taking their GCSEs  a year early,” he remarked.  I then prod him on that and other parts of the scheme.

 

“Ah yes GCSEs. Well, the nappy wearing will definitely happen for students taking examinations. The Sunny Vail plan for their students was rather harsh–all students had to take off their clothes and wear only a stand issue nappy. We’ve modified it that our girls wear a nappy with issued adhesive bras instead of their normal bras. A gown that is warm in enough will be draped over them and they may request thigh high stockings if they feel cold. That’s all we ask for student’s taking exams. Oh, during exams, no girl is allowed to to go to the toilet at all. We recommend that they clear themselves before the start of the exam. Of course, with a nappy on, they can crap in it, but that would be unpleasant.”

 

The principal leaves and I head towards a group of teachers to gather their views on the scheme. This will be in Part 2 of the report.

***

I exited the shower with my towel wrapped around me as usual. Just as was about to reach into my drawer, I heard an “ahem” behind me.

 

“Catherine, you’re suppose to wear this,” my mother said, pointing at the package on the grounds. Rats, I forget I was registered at Solihall, the new school with the nappy policy. Basically, students had to wear nappies instead of regular underwear to school. Toilet breaks for urination would not be allowed and only toilets for number 2, where teachers would have to verify that the student was doing that. It was an extremely unusual and really controversial method of ensuring student’s would stay in the classroom, not play truant, and even be more disciplined. I wasn’t at all sure whether wearing baby-like absorbent underwear would improve my studies or me at as a person at all but my parents were all on board with this.

 

“Oh,” I replied, turning to face the package. “I…I’m still not so sure how to put them on…”

 

“Well lie down let me put it on for you.”

 

Put it on? “But, mum…”

 

“No buts Cathy. Hurry or you’ll be late for your first day of school.” Given a silent groan, I did so, not before noticing that there was some kind of mat on top of my duvet. “It’s to prevent and liquid staining your bed,” mum said, as I saw her snapping on gloves. She lifted my towel to expose my crotch area and then I felt a pretty cool jelly-like substance being rubbed down there.

 

“OW! Mummy, what was that for?”

 

“It’s a special cream, dear I don’t want you to get rash down there.” I won’t get rash if the school didn’t require us to wear this “thing” I thought. Thankfully, the cooling feeling didn’t last long. I was told to roll over then I heard the dreaded crinkly sound. The feeling against my smooth skin was just, well really damn weird. Before I knew it, snap, snap, snap, snap, mum taped the youth-sized nappy securely against my waist.

“It’s a bit tight,” I complained but wordlessly, mum drew me up and adjusted the “item”. “It has to be really secure darling, if not when you pee, you’ll leak.” I don’t want to think about that I thought. Walking around in it, I heard the dreaded crinkling sound that I haven’t heard since I visited my younger baby cousins a while back. Ugh! I dressed but immediately found that my nylon tights couldn’t fit over the nappy.

“You should use your thigh highs, dear,” mum said, pointing at the un-opened package. I bought it once but never of using them. Well, I hope they don’t fall down my legs suddenly. Straightening my blouse and blazer, I walked with the crinkling sound out.

How to improve a girl’s studies: Nappy them!

Local school adopts a controversial move to improve grades

By: Anne Cheatle

Part 2:

I move over to the group of teachers who are checking the girls as they enter. One by one, each girl is stopped. Her school skirt is lifted and her tights are lowered. If teachers are satisfied students can enter directly into the school. If not, some students are directed to another lane. I encounter Mr. Wingfield, the chief teacher in-charge and headmaster.

“At first, lots of girls would arrive not wearing the nappies or wearing just pull ups or pads,” he explains. “Now, it’s down to a smaller minority and the usual suspects.”

“What happens if they aren’t wearing…the nappies?” I ask, struggling to believe the sight.

He guides me over to the other lane and I see a small room with only a table inside. Looking closer, the table in akin to that of a doctor’s medical examination table. Each girl caught wearing the wrong incontinence wear or even just knickers I made to lie down on the table. She is strapped down to the table and her lower clothes are removed. Another teacher would clean her crotch, then slide a diaper underneath and tape on on her.

“Each offender is booked and monitored. Repeating offenders will get this,” the headmaster held up a plastic pants with a chain. “These are locking panties or knickers. If a girl fails to wear proper tape on nappies, she’ll be locked in her nappy for a the whole day. Neither her parents nor her will be able to remove the nappy until it is filled with pee or poo. That is extreme and only a rare number of students were treated so.”

I check with him if they are meant to use the name for both functions and he said only for pee. If they have to poo, they have to get permission and a duty teacher checks if they really use the toilet for number two. Offenders are dealt with if they break the rules. If girls need to change during school hours, we hare more duty nurses to help change them. Under no circumstance will a girl be allowed to change themselves at school.” He then mumbles an excuse and moves off.

I meet an set of teachers and ask them their thoughts on the policy. One a science teacher said “It really works. Previously, my students would either chat loudly, make necessary remarks or ask to head to the toilet many times. I had lots of cases of bullying and teasing. Now, with the whole class in nappies, they pay attention.” Several other teachers add\ in their agreement. Even the physical education teacher says the girls are better behaved and she doesn’t see much hindrance from nappies and their sports performance. Only one teacher, a geography teacher, didn’t exactly see the need to have the girl’s in nappies. Still, she wasn’t exactly a full objector to the policy.

It’s recess time and I meet up with of the students. After glancing around, they open up. “It’s terrible but it’s school rules,” one a year nine student named Nichola Sterns remarked, crossing her legs tightly. “It sucks big time,” another of her classmates Jemimah Sternwood complains. “It’s like wearing a big pillow between your legs all day.” Jemimah continues to complain, saying that she doesn’t want her boyfriend from another school to know. “But this school has hit the news, so everyone knows..” she wailed.

Another student, Lauren Hanks, says the nappies actually helped her. “Before, I would often run to the loo and miss important teachings or advice,” she says. “Now with a nappy on, I can pee and sit and listen at the same time.” Another student, Sian Coghlan chimed in saying that after a while, the nappy feels like normal underwear. “It’s actually still just something you put on everyday.” Several others agree and disagree over it.

I tour the classes and spot some students taking their semester exams. Instead of their school uniforms, they are in just nappies and a translucent gown over them. “It’s to ensure the girls don’t cheat in their exams or tests,” another teacher explains. “Previously, many girls hide answers or notes in their accessories or even bras. So during tests, girls are made to take off their uniforms and bras and don a gown to cover their breasts. We thus ensure they they have absolutely no chance of cheating.”

A few hours later, I meet up with some parents. Sue Fuller, a leading member of the PTA has a cup of tea with me over the subject. “It was a bit ridiculous at first,” she said. “My daughter was happy to be a teenager but now she has to wear nappies in order to study. But having looked at my daughter’s report cards, I can see the difference.” Another parent, James Stone said it was really weird since his young one was just completing toilet training while his daughter had to go back in nappies. “But that’s the rules I guess. We have to live with it.”

In part 3 of the report, we get the wider views of the community.

***

This debate is British Parliamentary Style and based on the UK Parliament. Google around to get an idea.

Disclaimer: This does not represent the current or past British Parliaments, nor does it represent any Minister, Secretary of State, or British Political Party.

Mr Speaker: Order. Urgent Question from the Shadow Secretary of State for Education.

Shadow Secretary of State for Education (Mr. Ramsay): To ask the  Shadow Secretary of State for Education the government’s perspective on girls at Solihall Girl’s School being made to wear nappies.

Minister for Schools (Mr. Oliver): Mr. Speaker, allow me to reply. I thank the right honourable gentleman for the question. Yes, the ministry is aware that Solihall Girl’s School has conducted a policy where by all its students have to wear youth or adult nappies to school. This policy has been adopted by Sunny Vail School District in the US state of Tennessee. Mr. Speaker, the whole House must understand that Solihall is a private school and is not directly subjected to government educational policies. We nevertheless conducted a review into this method of making girls more attentive in class. Give the time constraints of this debate, Mr. Speaker, I naturally cannot read out the full report conducted by my staff. I will endeavour to make copies available. However, I shall try to summarise the report.

Mr. Speaker, Solihall Girl’s School implemented this policy as it has been low down the Educational League Table for many years. It’s principal and main committee decided on this due to the main factor for poor performance being attentiveness in class. After reading the case study of Sunny Vail School District, the Principal chaired a meeting and gain almost full consent from staff and the Parent’s Teaching Association, the PTA, to implement this policy. Mr Speaker, this policy has been on going at Solihall for around four months. Mr. Speaker, my staff have independently studied the school’s performance and noted a tremendous improvement in the grades of all Years. Mr. Speaker, it is almost certain this policy, however unusual, has had a positive impact on the school and its students. We interviewed several staff, students and parents and the feedback was mixed. Mr. Speaker, the review found that only a small handful of parents opposed this move and wrote to us to attempt to stop it. As stated, Soilhall Girl’s is an independent school and the government has no direct control over it. The rest interviewed have accepted the policy and provided positive reviews regarding it. Mr. Speaker, I again say that the full report will be available for all MPs to read.

Mr. Ramsay: I thank the Minister for that reply, however short. We in the opposition understand the private status of Solihall. Nevertheless, we do have questions that the Minister must answer. Firstly, the enforced nappying of girls. What assurances can the Minister give that the girls are made to wear the nappies to improve their studies and not for other reasons? Second, what safety measures are in place to ensure that the girls are not assaulted or abused when they are changed in school? Third, wearing a nappy, in school and outside takes much confidence. What support have the Education Ministry given to families and the wider community? Fourth, Solihall may be a private school. Is the Ministry confident this unusual or rather controversial policy will not be directly promoted to other schools by the government? Fifth, nappies are not cheap compared to knickers. What financial support has the minister given to families, especially poor ones?

Minister for Education Oliver: Mr. Speaker, I thank the Shadow Secretary for his understanding of the matter. I will try to answer his questions as best as I can. As noted, this again is a private school policy. Our review note that there was no act of abuse by teachers or parents when the girls have to wear nappies at school. During school hours, if they need to be changed, I understand they go to any school nurse who will change them. Since the implementation of this scheme, no abuse has occurred. There are set rules as to how to wear the nappy but this again is created by the school itself. The Shadow Minister asks about support. The school’s policy has been supported by the local council or community. We have some calls and letters by parents about support and have helped the council by sending in experts to help the girls to adjust to his policy. On financial support. Solihall itself has made a certain brand of youth nappies free for parents to collect from stores for their girls. Again, the local council has been supporting needy families and all such issues rests with them. On whether this policy will be spread to other schools. If private schools wish to take it up, we have no reason to stop them. We may take the idea under consideration for public schools, but we have no definite plans at present.

Mr Speaker: I naturally have to call the Memeber for Solihall.

MP for Solihall (Mr. Lawson): Thank you Mr. Speaker. I thank the Minister and the Shadow Minister for their speeches. I must say to the house I was not a proponent of this scheme initially. However, having seen the results, I have become a supporter. The government has always proponent of innovation by individuals and organisations. Will he at least congratulate the Principal, Principal Seager, for this bold move?

Mr. Oliver: I thank the honourable gentlemen for his work in his constituency. Yes, we champion those who dare to experiment and innovate, and this is quite the case.

Mr. Shields (MP for Netherhall): Mr. Speaker, this is certainly a unique case. How will the Minister ensure this will to cause the girls to be dependent on nappies?

Mr. Oliver: As the Member must understand, this again is a private school policy. The school has stated students will only wear them in school grounds, whether during school hours or staying in the school afterwards.

Mr. Shaw (MP for Guildhall): May I further on that question? What assurances can the Minister give that girls will not suffer from any medical complications such as rash due to this? Or become incontinent?

Mr Speaker: Order. May I say that backbench members must form only one question only.

Mr. Oliver: Again, it is a private school policy. The school has guidelines for families and the girls to follow. I believe amongst them is that girls are to have shaven crotches.

Miss Smith (MP for Alesbury): Mr. Speaker, I’m sure teenage girls are focused on other issues in life and definitely not to wear stuff that babies wear. Does the Minister really believe nappies improve studies?

Mr. Oliver: I ask the honourable lady to read the report my team has done. The short answer is we have agree they do.

Mrs. Snow (MP or Toddington): This is a demeaning policy! Teenage girls are grown up ladies past toilet training stage! How can the government allow a school to implement this! It breaches Human Rights!

Mr. Speaker: Order, order. The honourable lady is to form a single question, not shout the House down.

Mrs. Snow: This is atrocious! Girls wear underwear not nappies! They have full bodily control!!!

Mr. Speaker: Order, order. I say again, this is a debate, not a place to scream.

Mrs. Snow: I don’t care! These girls are girls who have rights!

Mr. Speaker: Order, order. Sergeant, please escort the member from the chamber. (Sergeant-at-arms escorts the shouting MP out). Order. The Minister must still reply.

Mr. Oliver: Mr. Speaker, we value human rights. Again, it is up to the school to conduct it’s policies.

Mrs. Saw (MP for Goldhall): Mr. Speaker, my colleague makes a point. Why must girls in this school be taped into something only babies wear?

Mr. Oliver: Mr. Speaker, again it is up to the private school to decide. May I say that some grown ups also wear adult diapers due to incontinence or for fun.

Mr. Seen (MP for Northland): I wish this was a nation-wide policy rather than just for Solihall. May I ask the Minister to sincerely make this applicable to all schools?

Mr. Oliver: Mr. Speaker, again it was our mission just to review the policy. We have no plans to make this a government policy.

Mr. Shawness (MP for Solihall North): Mr. Speaker, if only this was implemented in schools in my constituency. May I suggest the Minister praise the school publicly in the media?

Mr. Oliver: We will do it once the report is published.

Miss Teddington: Mr. Speaker, my niece attends Solihall and is having trouble walking now with the nappies on practically whole weak. Has this been highlighted in his report?

Mr. Oliver: Mr. Speaker, again the school has set policies to make it comfortable for the girls. If the member would meet me afterwards, we will study the case.

Mr. Blamping (MP for Solihall South): My daughter was punished by the school twice by having to wearing locking panties over the nappy. Does the Minister think that is acceptable?

Mr. Oliver: It again is up to the school to set the rules.

Mrs. Sun (MP for Solihall South): What statistical formula was made before these girls wear taped into things babies wear?

Mr. Oliver: It again is up to the school to set the rules. May I again say that adults wear nappies (Mrs. Sun shakes her head) It is the case.

Mr. Speaker: Order, we have little time left. I know many female members want to question, but I cannot accommodate all.

Ms Slow (MP for Ashen): Young girls should have the freedom to have pubic hair. Why must they shave?

Mr. Oliver: The honourable lady ask question that is obvious. May I again say it is the policy of the school.

Ms Grey (MP for East Weston): Wearing nappies is one thing. Girls will have to buy Sudocream and wipes and other materials. Shouldn’t there be financial assistance for all families with daughters in the school?

Mr. Oliver: Again it is school policy. I believe they have made such items free. Shops which refuse to provide those items to the families will be fined.

Miss Black (MP for East Weston): Do you expect girls in nappies to grow up with positive stories to tell their friends or future husbands or children?

Mr. Oliver: It is impossible for me to judge. The honourable lady should write to the school or visit it.

Mr. Speaker: Order, last question.

Miss Wylie (MP for Needham): It is surely disgusting for girls to be treated this way. Why isn’t there a strong condemnation from the Minister? Would he like his daughter to be in a nappy?

Mr. Speaker: Order, I say again, one question only. The Minister will answer either.

Mr. Oliver: Mr. Speaker, I must say I don’t have a daughter. But this policy, as the report will show, works.

***

“Rachael wake up! Wake up!” the voice of her mother broke through the teenagers sleep. “Get up or you’ll miss the bus and be late for your test!” Groaning, 14 year-old Rachael Sanders kicked off her duvet and literally dropped onto the floor of her bedroom. After a quick shower, she hastily wrapped a towel around her and fished for her clothes. Her bra naturally was clipped on and she reached for her underwear drawer before stopping. “Stupid school law,” she groaned silently, as she grabbed one disposable nappy out of it packet and laid down. “SHIT!” she yelled, getting the tapes on one side stuck and the other yanked off due to her brute force. She was about to grab another one when hr mother came in again.

“Let me help you with that dear,” she said and before the teenager could refuse, her mother had wiped her crotch clean and snugly tape on the incontinence wear for her. Minutes later, Rachel was in her school uniform and tights, as well as a flask of juice and a few muffins. “Do eat them dear; you need the strength. Good luck!”

Rachael finished her breakfast while cramming more facts about medieval history into her head. At the school gate, she winced as she was checked thoroughly by the duty teacher then scampered straight for the hall. “Uh, uh young lady, you need to get striped down over there,” one of the invigilators pointed. “Oh, another stupid rule,” she thought. “Studied for the test Rach?” Her classmate Rowena asked.

“All through the night. I even woke up late this morning.” All around, students were undressing and removing everything bras, hair clips, scrungies, earrings, watches e,verything. Groaning again, Rachel undid her blazer but still commented, “I can’t believe we have to take the test topless.”

“Not topless,” Rowena corrected. “In our nappy and this translucent gown,” she held one up.

“Looks quite transparent,” Rachael replied with a groan as she unclipped her bra. She had B cup breasts and her skin turned bright red, even though she was amongst girls. One by one, the bra-less nappied students entered the examination hall where teachers checked  them for any hidden items,

“You have three hours to answer four questions. Time yourselves well. It begins…NOW!” With that all the girls rapidly flipped over their test sheets  and began scribbling furiously. Rachael raced through the first question, remembering her facts well. The second was much harder so she slowed down and began to think. Just as she was writing the third paragraph, she felt her bladder signal. Yikes, it must be the morning’s tea. Shifting in her seat, the thick nappy rubbed against her skin. Rachael had hardly ever used her nappy at school and she wanted to hold her pee. But it was impossible and soon enough, her bladder emptied its contents into the protective underwear, causing her to grimace.

Rachael had just begun her third question when she smelt a foul odour. Bloody hell, one of the girls must have crapped in her nappy. Trying to hold her breath, Rachel scribbled even harder, noticing that she was behind the 45 minutes per question mark. Her hands were perspiring when suddenly she felt her stomach give a danger signal. Crap! I don’t want to have a stomach ache now!

“Fifty minutes remaining,” one invigilator called. By this time, Rachel’s stomach pain was getting worse and the last question was one of the hardest so far. Please, please, don’t let me shit in this thing, she thought, trying to remember her facts. She cancelled out her rough plan several times and then began writing. Suddenly, she peed again. Just let it all be pee, she thought, as she wrote.

“TIMES UP! PENS DOWN!” Rachael grabbed the edges on her chair as her stomach ache reached danger levels. Please hurry up and collect silly script, she thought. Only ten minute later, the girls were released and Rachael raced out, telling her classmate to look after her clothes and belongings for her. She was naturally aiming for the toilets, but the nearest one was being cleaned. “DARN IT!” she yelled, as her stomach was on the verge of giving away. “Young lady, keep your voice down and go change to your uniform,” a passing teacher said. Screw you, Rachael thought.

By luck, the nurses office was just around the corner. “Nurse, nurse!” she called, “I have a terrible stomach ache!” Nurse Norma appeared and calmly said, “well hope over to the bed.”

“NO! I need a toilet now!” But instead the nurse grabbed the teen and made her squat over what appeared pail. Just as the last nappy tape was pulled, the young teen’s contents “came out”, part of it falling onto the nappy. “ARGH!” she cried and only ten minutes later, she had finished relieving herself.

“Now you see how good the nappies are? If you weren’t in one you would have dirtied your clothes,” the nurse said, guiding her to the bed and cleaning her. Rachel wanted to argue but the pain was still there. Soon, she was back in a fresh nappy, this one somehow thick and a it more crinklier. “Go get back to your uniform dear,” the nurse  said, handing her a pass for an excuse. But just as Rachel returned to side room where she had changed, her uniform and accessories were gone.

“WHAT THE HELL?!”

***

A boy writes about his sister wearing nappies to Solihall School:

Dear Diary,

If there’s any great example of “Schadenfreude”, it has to be the case of my sister. For years, as my elder twin, she had been teasing me, beating me in competitions, school work, social life, everything. Now that she’s transferred to a certain Solihall school, she’s the one who has to suffer. I mean, this school has a new and weird policy that girls must wear nappies during school hours and school premises in order improve their concentration. I don’t know exactly how this can happen. All I know gleefully is that my sister now has to wear nappies for a good portion of the day. This has sort of stopped her from picking on me and sulking, almost like a little child.  I don’t know how much she pees or even poos in these nappies but boy has mum and dad filled with boxes of youth nappies, wipes, cream and all the stuff babies need–not the clothes, the nappy-related stuff. My once confident twin sister, reduced to nappies in the day–don’t know if mum makes her wear at night in case she wakes up late. Whatever the case, I’m glad to see my sister in nappies!

***

A short outing by a student gone wrong…

“…and remember, at two p.m. sharp, gather at centre care park for the bus to the museum,” Ms. Dorothy Porkins, or Porky as I like call her, said.

“Uh, Miss?” I raised my hand.

“Yes, Charlotte?”

“If we’re going out in public, does this mean we can change out of…”

“No, your nappies stay on.” I hat that word.

“But, Ms Porkins, we’re off school premises,” I protested, really wanting to be out of these baby underwear and into big girl undies.

“And you’ll still be in your school uniforms,” the teacher countered. “I expect those of you who need a change to see Nurse Donna during this break. See you at two sharp and don’t be late.”

Bloody hell, we’ll still be trapped nappies, I thought, as the class exited the room. Which means I have to head how wear nappies. Naturally I’m covered, but I still hate the fact that I have to be out in public wearing these darn things. Idiotic school rule. Unlike many my other classmates, I did not head to the Nurse’s office. One, I didn’t think the current nappy I wore was needed a change. Two, I don”t really like Nurse Donna–she was a rather old lady who was rough with any medical problems with us girls and equally so when coming to changing our nappies. Instead, I head across the the canteen. I didn’t have much for breakfast or lunch and thus bought a large tuna sandwich and a huge can of soda. Just before 2, I made my way to the car park to join the others, meeting up with my classmate Lauren.

“Did you get a change?” She asked me.

“No, snack instead.”

“You sure yours is ok? It’s going to be a trip and a long tour of the museum,” she replied.

“I can mange. Besides, aren’t there toilets there?”

“But that’s why Ms Porkins wanted us to see the nurse.”

I didn’t reply. Lauren was one of the many girls who was comfortable with this school’s nappy policy while I was in the opposite camp. This of course resulted in her being promoted to class leader while I lost out. Man, she would do anything the school rules said to do. The bus came slightly late and the journey was a rather slow one. Just as it turned the corner, there was a traffic jam. “Girls, we’ll have to make our way via an alternative route,” the bus driver announced. As the bus slowly turned around, I felt my bladder signal. Oh, must be the soda I drank. I thought. I tried to hold it but the pressure of my bladder increased and I simply let go, the pee hitting my nappy.

I squirmed in my seat, my elbow striking Lauren next to me.

“What happened?” she asked.

Red with embarrassment, I mumbled, “I peed in my…”

“Well good thing you’re wearing a nappy. You wouldn’t want to stain the seat.” That was all she said. Well yeah, but I’m a grown up girl. I should have been able to hold my urine and not have to rely on some adult incontinence wear. What is wrong with me? And you Lauren?

After ages, we finally arrived at the museum. I darted off the bus towards the toilet sign but ran straight into Pork. “Just where do you think you are going young lady.”

“The…loo. I had a…”

“Get back in line. I told you to see the nurse.”

“But…” I can’t believe this teacher.

She shot out her arm, blocking my short frame. Dejected, I walked back, feeling the damp nappy rub against my labia. The whole history tour was just as long as the bus ride and extremely boring. It was about some super ancient civilization, something that never interested me. Just as the guide started talking about the architecture, I felt another signal, this time from my abdomen. It was a signal that I detested ever since I was toilet-trained–stomach ache. Darn it, it must be the tuna sandwich I had earlier on. I knew that there was something wrong besides the dry taste. The time pasted even slower as the ached increased. My palms started to sweat and I crossed and uncrossed my nylon-clad legs.

Porky was nearby but I had to wave to get her attention. “What now?”

“Miss Porkins,” I used her proper name. “Please, I have to go to the toilet. I have a stomach ach..”

“You can hold. This is a fixed tour and extremely critical. Now be quiet.”

WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU! I screamed silently at her. I’m  going to have diarrhoea and I need to go to the toilet. You can expect me to poo in my…

I couldn’t hold it any longer so ignoring the Teacher, I bolted to the ladies, as fast as my waddling self could move. Just as I pushed open the toilet door, I felt my bowels release itself. NOOO….I cried and hastily banged open a stall door. Skirt and tights down, I  yanked furiously at the nappy tapes. Finally the dreaded nappy came off and yucks! I did pop in them. Ah….the rest of my bowls were released and darn it, it was a bit of diarrhoea. Minutes later, I had finished cleaning my bum and was about to re-dress myself until I realised it was going to be yucky poo-filled nappies. Yikes! I had my school bag with me but as mentioned, I didn’t have any spare underwear or clean nappies.

What to do, what to do? Maybe I should just chuck the nappy away and just go without anything but skirt and tights on. Yikes, would people know? I’ve never gone commando before and just didn’t like the sound of it. Maybe if I clean the silly nappy..I did so and some of the yucky stuff came off. Looks better I thought, although re-taping it up, It felt a bit squishy. Straightening my uniform, I washed up and headed back.

“Where did you go young lady?” Porky asked angrily.

“I’m really sorry miss, I had a stomach ache,” I said, with pleading eyes.

“Get back and listen up to the guide.” I did so, but with the squishy feeling against my bum and the damp nappy, I could hardly concentrate. I doodled some answers in my sheet across the next half an hour until I felt my bladder signal. Darn it, I thought I had peed just now. I couldn’t ask for another toilet break again, especially not with the exit blocked by other people so I risked it and felt another lot of warmth between my legs. Please hold please hold, I thought, as I felt the nappy start to bulge. The sogginess could certainly be felt now and I really started to waddle a bit as I walked.

“You okay?” Lauren asked, appearing next to me.

“No,” I whispered. “I’ve go a thick nappy on….” embarrassed I started to explain to her what happened when Porky yelled silent.

Please let this be over! I screamed in my mind. Nearly half an hour later, it was. “Remember, tomorrow I’m going to quiz you all on this trip. Those who can answer will be marked down.” Finally, I bolted out of the place, or rather walked like a duck. “You really need a change,” Lauren said, catching up with me.

“I…I don’t have a spare nappy. I just want to get out of this,” I explained what happened and turned red.

“Oh Charlie,” she said, “there’s no way you can head home like this. You’ll get a rash or worse.”

“What…”

“Look, my home is nearer. Why don’t you come along and get cleaned up there.” I thought for a while and agreed. It was a ten minute walk to her house, with the dirty nappy really chaffing against my groin. Finally in her bedroom, she handed me some wipes. Boy, despite the ultra-cooling sensation, it felt pretty good to clean up all over. Chucking the stained nappy in her bin, I asked to borrow one of her knickers. “Don’t worry, I’ll return them clean.”

“No you can’t borrow them,” she replied.

“Why? I’ll clean them and return them tomorrow,” I said, bewildered.

“You can’t go home in just undies,” she said, “not with you case of stomach ache and multiple peeing.”

“What? I’m not going home with just my skirt and tights!”

“You are, with a nappy on.”

“But…” I was shocked.

“But you might wet yourself, or need to poo again. And if it wasn’t for the nappy, it would be worse. Now,” she said, unfolding one of her own clean disposable nappies, “lie down.”

“I can change myself.”

“No, you can’t. I know you Charlotte,” she reverted to my full name. “Now, lie down.” There was no where to go and turning so red, I watched as she wiped my vulva and bum again, spread anti-rash cream and then taped on a darn nappy tightly. “There you go, all set. I would even recommend you wear them for a few hours.”

The End.

***

“…Remember you have a big exam tomorrow,” Mr. Roberts called as we all stood up and packed our school bags. “It counts as 40% of your final grade so do study hard.”

“Yeah, that’s some comfort,” I thought, stuffing my books inside my bag.

“Hey, Cath, we still have still afternoon to study,” my classmate and good friend Harriet sat. We had both planned a study session and a sleep over at her house, which was much closer to school than mine. So along with my school bag I had a back pack will clothes and night wear.

“Yeah, you can help me with early World War Two history,” I said as we moved down the hall.

“And you with Cold War stuff,” she replied. “Hey, mind if I stop by Nurse Jenna’s first? I need to get get my nappy changed.” I nodded. Ah, the darn nappies to school rule. It didn’t seem to make me concentrate more in class or focus on my studies. But I still stuck to it unlike some girls who still rebelled. I didn’t want to face the harsh punishments.

“Hi Harriet, Hi Catherine,” Nurse Jenna, the mid 20s nurse greeted us. By now, she knew the names of all the girls she helped change daily. “Take a seat; I’m dealing with some one with a sprained ankle. Minutes later, a girl limped out with an ankle guard. “Now, what can I do for you?”

“Uh, Nappy change,” Harriet replied, immediately moving to the nurse’s examination table.

“Just you?”

“I…think I’m ok Nurse,” I said.

“Alright,” Harriet had already dropped her skirt and lowered her tights. Man, her nappy did appear wet. Nurse Jennings moved methodically, first un-taping and discarding the used nappy, then wiping her all over–crotch and bum, and then adding some cream. Finally, she unfolded a new nappy, albeit different brand, and securely taped it on. “There dear you’re done.”

As Harriet straightened herself and I was about to move, Nurse Jenna called out, “Catherine, what about you?”

“I’m fine Nurse,” well I only had a large piss and a small one in this nappy.

“Really? I’m sure you must be damp by now.”

“Uh…”

“Better get a change, Cath,” Harriet commented, straightening her tights. “It’s still a fair walk to my house.”

With both of them looking me intensely, I reluctantly got on to the table, removing my tights. The nurse removed my school skirt and exclaimed, “well you are quite wet dear,” she said. “you do need a change.”

“Oh,” was all I said, embarrassed.

“You should buy the Maxi brand,” she continued, untaping the nappy.

Ok, well, it’s what my parents get using the school voucher. With the nappy yanked away, I turned red as usual. I know it’s a female nurse, but even so, having someone else see my private part in my teen years seems weird. It felt even weirder as she wiped my vulva and bum then spread the icky cooling cream all around. Finally, a fresh nappy–darn it why can it be normal underwear? The nappy was the Maxi kind which definitely felt thicker.

“There you go? See, lucky you got the change,” I murmured a thanks and slowly tried to to adjust to new thickness. “See you tomorrow Nurse,” Harriet called and we were out the school. “You should have worn the Maxi from the start, Cath,” Harriet commented.

“It’s feels so thick. Dunno how you can move with it on.” Or rather, why the heck must we wear these baby undies to school? I’m glad I will soon be out of it.

Harriet’s home was a rather large one (compared to mine) and it took was three flights of stairs up before we reached her bedroom. “Phew,” I said, panting. “At least now I can get out of my uniform.” Before I could head over to her bathroom, Harriet had already begun unbuttoning her blouse. “We’re both girls Cath,” she said. Soon enough, we had our T-Shirts on  and I removed my skirt. Just as I was about to untape the nappy I had on, Harriet raised her eyes.

“What?”

“Don’t tell me you’re going to take that off.”

“Why not? We’re out of school and we’re allowed to be big girls again.”

“I know but Nurse Jenna just taped it on. Big waste to throw it away,” she argued.

“It’s just a silly nappy. And it’s not like I paid for it,” I continued peeling away a tab.

“Wait! At least do a pee in it first. Then it can be used.”

“Why?”

“Please, Cath. Or I won’t let you throw it in my bin.” She folded her arms.

I shook my head. Harriet was hooked on to this nappy stuff. I focused and managed a small wee into the nappy, the indicator barely showing any change. Great, I became a baby again. “Here you go,” she said, handing me some wipes. Minutes later, I was finally in my proper underwear, jeans, shirt and light jumper. Cath was almost similarly dressed, but still wearing her nappy. Crazy.

For the next few hours, we crammed as much facts as we could into our head about 20th Century history. We exchanged notes on the topics each of us had a comparative advantage over. More than two hours in, I felt my bladder and gut signal and moved off to use her toilet. “Go ahead,” she said. “You know, if you were me, you could still be looking at the notes.”

“Yeah, yeah, you love nappies,” I called.

Around 6 pm, Harriet’s mother called and we both trooped down for dinner. At the table was her mother, father and older brother, Francis. They usual discussion of ‘how are you’ and ‘how are things’ ensued until the topic of our exam came up. “It’s a big one for all the Year Ten history students at Solihall,” Harriet commented.

“The Baby School,” her brother said.

“Excuse me?”

“The baby school were girl’s a babied by wearing nappies and changed by nurses,” he continued. “The school where girls sit in halls practically naked with just a nappy….”

“We’re certainly not babied; it has helped many us achieved better grades,” Harriet retorted. “And we get to wear a top and nappy during exams.”

“Baby, baby, nappy, nappy,” Francis started singing and Harriet threw a piece of bread in direction.

“Stop it both of you!” Harriet’s father shouted. “Apologise to each other.” I heard them mumble “sorry” to each other and the rest of the dinner proceeded in silence. Back in Harriet’s bathroom, I was brushing my teeth my I heard a familiar rustling sound. After rising, I re-entered the bedroom, to see Harriet cleaning her crotch. “Always better to to get a fresh one on,” she commented from her horizontal position.

“Harriet, don’t you think you’re brother is a little right? That you are treating this a little too far?”

She sat up, still half naked. “You think we’re being babied?”

“Well no, but uh, girls like you treating it so seriously. Following the routine even after school, buying every thing related to nappies…”

“Well, either you accept it or you rebel and get punished. Have you seen what they do who break the rules.”

“Yeah, they make them stay in the same nappies and worse,” I said, remembering how some of our classmates were punished. “And the part about taking exams in just some translucent gown and nappy. Don’t you think it’s over the top?”

“No, and can you let me finish changing? We still have to try the mock exam to try out.” With Harriet freshly nappied, she dragged a spare table to the middle of the room. The mock exam paper we had contain questions on topic we studied for but naturally not the same questions as those tomorrow. “Read, your time starts now!” Harriet called and we turned over the paper. It was three questions for three hours. I breezed through the first two questions easily. As I started with the third question, I noticed Harriet shift a bit and cross and uncrossed legs. Probably peeing in her damn nappy, I thought. Just as I wrote another paragraph, I again felt my bladder signal. Darn, it must be the orange squash her mother provided me during dinner time. I continued scribbling away but as I did so, the pressure my bladder increased. “Twenty minutes left,” Harriet called, mimicking the head invigilator. Damnit, I thought, sweating. If this was a normal exam, I could head to the toilet. But given the nappy rule, no girl would be allowed to leave the exam hall.

Just as our time was up, I threw down my pen and raced to the toilet. But it was too late…”Super crap!” I yelled.

“What’s wrong?” I heard Harriet call.

I finished emptying my bladder, washed and came out face all red. “I wet my pants.”

Harriet smiled a smile which said something like “See why I wear?”. “Aw, if this was the real exam, you wouldn’t have been.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I replied. “can I borrow a spare undies of yours?”

“No,” she crossed her arms.

“No? But I just…”

“Yes you just wet yourself like a little child, Cath,” Harriet said. “You shouldn’t be wearing big girl’s pants.” Her hands pointed to…”You’ve got to be joking!” I cried.

“Catherine Robinson, I’m not. Now, take off the rest of your jeans and put a nappy on.”

“No!”

Suddenly, Harriet yanked me towards her bed and pressed me down. “Ow! Harriet Springfield stop this!”

“Wear”

“No….” But the pressure increased. “Damnit!” I cried. Finally I gave in. “You are such a bully,” I cried.

“Well, you are the one who wet her knickers,” Harriet started and I turned red in the face again. Just as I finished taping up the new nappy, there was a knock on the door. I quickly yanked up my jeans as Harriet’s mother entered. “I brought you girls some hot chocolate and biscuits,” she said.

“Thanks Mrs. Springfield,” I said.

“You two studying well?”

“Uh yeah,” I lied. Up to the point that your daughter forced me into wearing nappies.

“Ok, don’t study too late. You need to be fresh in the morning.” As soon as she left, I gave Harriet a “darn you look”. We both studied for another hour or so before we changed into our night clothes. I had light blue pyjamas while Harriet donned a cream nightie.

“You really want me to wear a nappy to sleep?” I asked, still not liking this nappy on.

“Yes.”

“But…”

“But this is my room,” Harriet said, switching off the lights. “Now, let’s get some sleep.”

It was weird indeed with the bulk between my legs but with the whole facts of history buzzing through my mind, I quickly fell asleep. I only awoke with the massive feeling of hands rubbing me. “Hey Cath, wake up, it’s time.” I rubbed my eyes to see Harriet wrapped in a towel. “I’ve just showered, your turn.” Still groggy, I got out of bed then remembered I was still in a nappy. It was a joy to be released on the damn thing in the shower but when I returned to the bed room, Harriet was there, dressed in her uniform and spreading out nappy wipes, cream, a changing mat and a new nappy on her bed.

“Come here, Cath,” she ordered.

“What?”

“You take ages to put on a nappy, now come on. Breakfast will be cold.”

I wanted to argue but again she dragged me to the bed and I suffered through the humiliation of being taped into a nappy by my best friend. More than an hour later, we were back at school and headed with the massive stream of girls to the side room. “All uniform and accessories off,” the head teacher announced. “Place them in the bags with your names. Then go through the checking gates.” One by one, girls striped to just their nappies and donned the translucent gowns. “You, you you,” one teacher point at several girls. “Your nappies show wetness. Go get get changed quickly.”

“Luckily we both are in fresh nappies,” Harriet commented.

Whatever, I thought, still wishing it wasn’t so drastic. Soon enough, the exam began. Having crammed all the facts in my head, I again breezed through the first two questions and moved to the third. Just as there was fifteen minutes left, I once more felt my bladder signal–must be the morning tea. But instead of sweating and squeezing my legs, I let it empty itself into the nappy I wore. Maybe Harriet is right about this nappy policy, I thought.

“Hey Cath, look you are quite wet,” Harriet commented as we head back to collect our clothing. She on the other hand, showed a dry nappy.

“Uh yeah,” I said. We both changed back into our bras, tights and uniforms. “Can you tell Mr. Waingwright I” be a bit late? Need to get a change.”

Harriet smiled as I headed over to Nurse Jenna’s. “Morning Catherine, how was your exam?”

“Just fine Nurse,” this time I had my skirt and tights off before lying down. “The nappy saved me.”

The End.

***

“Well it’s time for our usual reading of emails regarding the policy,” Principal Seager remarked, looking at his colleague, Headmaster Wingfield. “Ready Ed?”

“Sure.” Seager opened his email inbox and read the first one.

Dear Principal Seager,

I want to say that your are an abusive man trying turn good teenage girls into infantalists. My daughter cries every morning that she has tape on a nappy instead of proper girl’s knickers to school. She finds it humiliating that she can’t use the toilet to pee at school and must wet in the silly nappy. It is far worse when she has to see the nurse at school to be changed. You are infantilising these girls and I hope you suffer one day.

“Well, what an ungrateful parent,” Ed Wingfield commented.

“Not a word of thanks that her for what we do for her daughter,” Seager replied, then clicked the next one.

Dear Principal Seager and staff of Solihall,

I want to take you so much for introducing this new (nappy to school policy). My daughter has always been a rebel since she was born. She never concentrated in class, hardly finished her homework, received average grades and hung out late with friends. Now with your policy, she is attentive in class and her grades are improving in most subjects. It’s a great policy and I hope to continue to use it for all years. 

A grateful father

“Well that’s definitely more positive,” both men agreed.

Dear Principal Seager,

I’m just ok with this policy for my daughter. I’m wondering if you could state an efficient diaper? Sometimes she leaks through her Lille diapers.

“Well, try another kind silly,” Wingfield replied. Another few emails were similar to the above. “Ah something new,” the principal said.

Dear Principal Seager,

I have seen the differences with my daughter in nappies at school. But recently she has had touble reaching the toilet in time and even bedwet twice. The doctor says her she may having some weak bladder control. it may be due to your policy regarding nappies. Maybe you should revise it?

“Well, it’s a big may be,” Seager commented.

“We’ll investigate this  case, but I wouldn’t immediately blame it on us.” They turned to the the next one.

Dear Principal and Staff,

My daughter has some improvement in her grades since your policy started. However, after school, she has been still staying in the nappies and some of her classmates have copied her to. I’ve tried telling her to switch back to her pants but she says she prefers to stay in her nappy. Don’t you thinnk your policy is turn young girls into lovers of these nappies?

“We’re not responsible for their after school activities,” Seager replied.

“They can like or dislike the nappies, so long as they wear them here,” Wingfield added.

Dear Principal Seager,

Nappies may be ok, but girls this age are going through puberty. You recommended on your school rules that girls use tampons with the nappy on during their period. But my girl hates tampons and me too; we are used to sanitary towels/pads. Why can’t girls wear knickers or pull ups during their time of the month?

“What are we, the solve-it-all school? No, no, no, girls wear proper tape on nappies unless it is sports,” Seager growled. “Nothing is wrong with tampons.”

“Look at this one from the MP on our area,” Wingfield pointed.

Dear Principal,

My two daughters attend your school and my third will shortly will. One of them prefers the Tena range of nappies such as Tena Slip. The other hates Tena and prefers Abena. This third one is small and wants to use pampers. I’m wondering if you could standardise the nappy brand and type (plus, super or maxi) that students should wear.

“What crap,” Seager snorted. “We allow girls to wear what they want, so long it is tape on nappies.”

“He could have a point though; some nappies aren’t as good as others.”

“Well, that’s for you and the teachers to to find out. Let’s go to the student letters.” The first few weren’t positive.”

Dear Principal Seager,

Nappies, ok. But just a nappy, no uniform and a translucent gown during test and exams?! I think that is way over the top. It’s ok if you adjust the heating or air con but seriously, it’s demeaning to have semi-naked girls in a hall. Change to have uniforms back on!

“No way,” Seager growled.

“I know this Year 10 girl. She complains about everything, nappies or no nappies,” Wingfield added.

The next was not much encouraging.

Dear Principal,

I don’t want nappies; can we switch to just pull ups? Because we’re now known as the nappy girl’s school, I lost my boyfriend.

“I’m not responsible for your breakup, dear,” Principal Seager immediately said.

“Yeah, this is about your grades, not your love life. How many more are there?”

“Oh, about thousands more. Let’s take a break shall we?”

***

 

A School Invigilator describes exam time at Solihall:

Usually as a semi-retiree, I get to sleep in in the early morning. These few days, however, I’m in a school helping to invigilate examinations. Not any school, Solihalll Girls School, or what people have been calling, the “Nappy School.” The school’s senior administration has had a weird idea that if students wear nappies, there would be less number of them visiting the toilet (to pee) and they would concentrate better in class. For examinations, nappies would be a key requirement for them and they would in fact wear only a diaper and a translucent gown during exams. “Girls have had a long history of writing notes on their skins or hiding notes in their uniforms,” the chief invigilator told me, “or asking to go to the toilet where they would hide or exchange information. In order to curtail such activity, we decided to make all students wear only a nappy and a gown in the examination room. No one is allowed to leave for the toilet during the course of the exam, not even to poo. Each girl would be checked that their body contains no visible marks on their body before proceeding to their desks. All stationery and paper would be provided at each table as an added precaution.”

My first role is to stay in the designated side room where girls strip off their uniforms down to just their nappies. I know this is the most embarrassing part since they basically are exposed topless with nappies taped to their crotches. As this nappy rule has been strictly enforced,  they hand me and my colleagues bags containing their uniforms, bra, tights and other accessories and  in exchange receive hospital-like gown. This gown supposedly can support breasts but for those with larger cup sizes, their boobs would still bounce around.

The girls fill into the examination room, some still looking embarrassed by being reduce to semi-nakedness. The chief invigilator reads out exam instructions as each girl sits down, some making a crinkling noise as each chair is covered in plastic just in case girls leak. At the set time, they turn over their papers and start scribbling. As time move by, I glance at the whole hall and boy is it a weird site of teenaged ladies in nappies and gowns writing their answers. One would really thin its over the top in prevent the girls from using the toilet during exams. Such an act is seen around after a hour, where you see girls squirm in their seats and thus can evidently tell that they are peeing in their nappy. Some even do the other, that is, defecate, even though teachers have advised them not to have such heavy breakfasts. Sometimes, their good quality nappies mask the smell. For others, the odour fills the room and quickly, air freshners are sprayed.

Three hours (or more depending on the kind of exam), they are ordered to put their pens down. Each girl sits silently in their used nappy (if they have done their business in them) as we slowly collect and count the exam sheets. Finally, they are released and waddling like ducks, they head back to the changing room. Most of the time, they retrieve their uniforms and clip on their bras gratefully. Only rarely do some girls have to wait as we misplace their clothing. Some girls even out of the hall to go to the nurses office to change as their nappies are soaked or filled. Thus ends an exam session at Solihall.

***

“Well, well,” Discipline Master Mr. Wingfield remarked, “who do we have here?”

“One foul mouth student who wrote not only irrelevant but offensive remarks in her history paper,” the teacher said, handing over several sheets to me with one hand and pulling in a five foot five student.

“Well, let’s see…oh,” Wingfield’s eyes widen as he read the first sheet. “This is…”

“Not only offensive to all us teachers but to the entire community as well,” the teacher remarked. “I believe this warrants…”

“Miss Heatherstone, what you believe you not what will happen. I’m the discipline master here,” Wingfield replied and gave her a stare. After a few seconds, the teacher left, closing the door behind her.

“Name card please,” Wingfield said but the girl didn’t respond, All students in the school had name cards which also allowed them to have discounts on public transportation and certain outlets. Wingfield repeated his question and the girl suddenly threw down her card.

“That was very respectful,” Wingfield said..

To be continued.

 

“Come on Amanda! We’ll be late! An it’s your first day at school!” 12 going to 13 year old Jemimah Galpin called. This was to 13 year old Amanda Delbert, a new exchange student to Solihull from America and the new guest her home. Amanda had just flown across the weekend to Jem’s house and would be staying for about 3 months with them.

“Amanda?” Jem called again then heard and “oomph!” from the locked room. “Are you alright?” Jem pushed against the door and it gave way–the door locks in her house weren’t that strong.

Inside, she found a half dressed Amanda, wearing the required school tie, blouse but with a nappy half way down her legs. Amanda immediately turn red in the face when Jem saw her semi-nakedness.

“I…” she began.

“Having trouble taping them on?”

“I…why the hell do we have wear these damn things?! We’re teenaged girls, not helpless babies!”

“Sshh…” Jem closed the door. “I know, that’s the policy. But it’s how it is.”

“So we can break rules. I wanna wear my panties.” Amanda picked up her pink boy shorts.

“Amanda, we can fight this but not now. Look, let me help you tape them on.”

“Wh…y…”

“Cause there’s always time to fight it. Look, it’s far worse if you break the rules. Everyone else will be wearing them. Once this pack runs out, I’ll try to get mum to buy a thiner pair ok?”

Amanda shook her head, still hating the school rule. But with the clock ticking, Jem helped her down on the bed. Despite her grunting and protesting, the younger girl managed to rub anti-rash lotion on the American’s slightly hairy vulva. Then, helping her friend lay on her side, she slid a new nappy underneath her bum and taped it up.

“It’s so darn tight.”

“You need it tight or they’ll re-doing for you at school. Plus, when you use it, you need it so if you you’ll leak.”

“I can’t walk…”

“Don’t be silly Mandy. Put on your tigh…your hose and your skirt. We are running late.”

TBC.

Continuing from story above…

“Jem…this diaper is still damn too tight…” Amanda wailed once again as the two girls entered their first class, history.

“That’s the umpteenth time you said that. I told you the nappies are supposed to be like that or you’ll leak.”

“But I don’t leak. I’m not a baby…” but Jemimah had already settled down. Amanda stilled whined, especially feeling the padded bottom against the chair, but no one, not even her new classmates seemed to notice how uncomfortable she was.

“Good morning class,” Mr. Horricks, their history greeted and the girls returned his greeting. “I see we have a new girl here. You are?”

“Amanda Delbert, I’m from…” but Horricks cut her off.

“Well, welcome. Ok, class today we’re going to learn about the British East India Company. Turn your to page…” For the next forty minutes minutes, the class listened and read through the history of the EIC in former British Raj. Suddenly, a hand shot up. “Yes, Miss Delbert?” Horricks enquired.

“Can I go to the toilet?”

“You know the rules, unless it’s number two. Now, in the 1870s…”

“I need to pee,” Amanda whispered to Jem.

“That’s what the Abena is for,” Jem whispered back, scribbling down some notes.

“But…” But Jem ignored her again. Unable to hold it any furher, Amanda’s bladder release itself and the young American turned bright red as she peed not in a toilet for the first time in many years. It was such an icky feeling. Luckily, the class was soon over.

“Oh my gosh, it feels terrible,” she whined to Jem as they packed up. Jem glanced at her and them remarked, “does it feel really wet?”

“Damp, wet, horrible, yucky…”

“Maybe, you peed alot. I’ll take you to Nurse Jenna,” before the guest student could protest, Jem has dragged her down the hall to the the nurses’ office.

“Hello, Jemimah, who’s this with you?”

“This is Mandy, an exchange student. She’s quite new to the school. Mandy, Nurse Jenna.”

“How do you do,” she shook the new girl’s hand. “What can I do for you today?”

“I think Mandy used quite a bit of her nappy and may need a change,” Jem answered.

“I don’t…I just want this off…” Mandy protested.

“Every girl has to wear, dear. Come, take off your skirt and tights and let me see,” Nurse Jenna requested. Amanda protested more but eventually gave in and embarrassingly lay out in her blouse, her nappy exposed.

“You did wet alot, Amanda, and this M1 isn’t a good choice. Jem, I thought you use Tena Slip?”

“I guess my mum ran out,” Jem answered.

“Best to use a nappy that can hold more than one shot of urine,” Nurse Jenna said, untaping the nappy.

“Wait…you are actually going to change me?” Mandy cried.

“Nurse Jenna does it for all girls and it’s the rules,” Jem explained.

“But…”

“But she does it well and we’ll be late for the next class,” Jem argued. Mandy shook her head and squealed as the nurse removed her used nappy and started to clean her.

“Can you keep still, or I may scratch you otherwise,” the nurse remarked.

“It so cold….” the student said in response to the wipes. “Ow….” she cried as another wipe was wiped against her labia.

“And try to quieter,” the nurse added but the new girl continued shift and emit sounds in response to the wipes. Nurse Jenna was tolerant, but still only to degree. Swifly, She drew two leather straps just below the girl’s breasts, pinning her to the table. “Hey! What’s this for!” she screamed.

“I warned you, Miss,” the nurse said, then inserted a sterile cotton wad into her mouth, effectively gagging her. Unable to move much and quiet silenced, the nurse was able to finished her cleaning, then lift the girl’s bum up to insert a new Tena Slip Maxi underneath. Once more, Amanda Delbert was taped into a nappy/diaper.

“Now, that wasn’t so hard was it? Do try to more cooperative next time,” Nurse Jenna said, unstrapping her and removing the piece of cloth. Before Amanda could answer, the bell rang.

TBC.

**

The following committee hearing is based on the UK Select Committee format, though it is not specified that this is the House of Commons (even though British English is used). Google it if you are not sure. All names are fictional.

Schooling Select Committee

Parliament

1400 local

Members present:

Mr. Woolwich (Chair)

Mr. Henderson

Mr. Milner

Miss Gorsham

Ms. Heavensworth

Ms. Galpin

Mr. Woolwich (Chair): Order, Order. The committee sits today to examine Solihall Girl’s school policy of making its school girls wear nappies during schooling hours and on schooling premises, hereafter known as the “Nappy Policy”. We have today, the Principal of the School. Mr. Seager and his team to provide evidence. Principal Seager, would you like to introduce your team?

Seager: On my right is Mr. Goddard, the school discipline master and on my left, the head of the parents-teachers association, Mrs. Timble.

Chair: Thank you, I believe you have an opening statement to make?

Seager: Thank you Chair. Splihall has introduced this scheme for a couple of months now. It’s main objective is to ensure girls take less toilet breaks during classes and concentrate on their studies. As a result, all subjects ranging from English to even Information Technology. Many students who have failed in the past have reached at least Bs in their subjects. Many GCSE graduates have scored excellent results and have received bursaries and scholarships to continue their studies at our school or elsewhere. We accept that this is a controversial from the start but have received a wide range of support from parents, school girls and the wider community.

Chair: Thank you for that. As you said, this is a controversial school policy and the committee has convened to investigate it. As Chair, I will start off the questions and the first being. how do you draw a relationship between toilet breaks and academic results?

Seager: Before we implemented this, the girls were achieving terrible results. A large majority of them were asking for toilet breaks, not so much for actual toilet usage, but to gossip and to engage in some unruly behaviour. Those that did want to really use the toilet asked for breaks just  to skip classes or to escape from learning and thus ended up scoring dismal results. We introduced our policy after studying the results from the American school. It has so far turned low grades into high scores and even improved the behaviour of some girls.

Chair: But this is all due to their behaviour. Could you not have implemented something else besides making thme wear nappies?

Goddard: Chair, we have tried many other methods, such as strict limitation on breaks, teachers having more leeway, and stricter detention but not of if changed anything. This policy in sharp contrast has.

Chair: Are you absolutely certain putting them in nappies improve their grades?

Seager: It makes them concentrate more on the studies and teachers spent much less time letting girls off to the toilet.

Chair: I’m sorry, you make them wear but you still allow them to use the toilet?

Seager: Chair, they must urinate in the nappy but their other bodily function, well they can use the toilet for that.

Chair: How do you monitor that?

Goddard: We do check on the girls what they use the loo for.

Chair: That is very intrusive, on top on making them wear nappies.

Seager: Far better than how it is before.

Chair: And from what I read from your guidelines, you ensure they are in nappies all day long?

Seager: In school premises. We have teachers and senior girls do checks in the morning and spot checks throughout the day. The rest of the day, outside school we do not control what they wear.

Chair: So back home, when they study, it is in their knickers.

Goddard: As the principal said, we don’t control what they wear outside school premises.

Chair: Would that not affect performance? Academic performance?

Seager: It might but so far, the grades show an improvement. We care only what they are during school time.

Chair: I’ll hand over to my members now but may return. Mr. Henderson?

Henderson: Thank you chair. Principal, discipline master and head PTA, it is a radical move to make young teenagers wear nappies. What did the girls themselves think of it when you introduced it?

Seager: Mr. Henderson, we set out the policy during the summer months by first consulting all parents, then the PTA and then sending our letters to the girls themselves. We continued to consult them and introduce the rationale for. Finally, when we started implementing, we constantly repeated the message.

Goddard: There was resistance at first, but right now, 99% of the girls accept the policy.

Henderson: I would expect resistance. Your guide book says those who dont wear when entering the premises or are caught not wearing proper nappies or are caught changing back to knickers are punished. Can you elaborate?

Goddard: Yes any girl caught is sent to me. I examine the reason why and then set out the punishment. Usually, it is enforcing the girl to wear 24 hours to 48 hours by locking them using locking pants. If it repeats, we extend the punishment, implement detention or in worst cases, expel.

Henderson: That is really really harsh, especially for the young ones. What is the feedback on this?

Goddard: The parents do cooperate and very few of them resist our policy.

Henderson: Mrs. Timble?

Timble: I can vouch for that, having held constant PTA meetings.

Henderson: You said 99%. What bout the 1%? Do they continue to be punished?

Goddard: We keep telling them to wear. The actual numbers are very low and the threat of wearing all day makess them follow.

Henderson: That is still harsh.

Seager: It is certainly fair enough. If some don’t wear, it may start a trend leading back to the poor grades and behaviour.

Henderson: I may come back but let’s move to changing. I understand the girls don’t change themselves. The school nurse does. Why?

Seager: We considered that but thought letting them change themselves would mean more breaks between classes and girls cleaning and hanging incorrectly. Our head school nurse helps to change them but she also has a team.

Henderson: Is that not babying?

Seager: No it is not. Again, the parents were consulted on this and they agreed. When the girl enters the school, she would have nappied herself or received help. We don’t control that. Nor do we control how they change out of the nappy outside school. But in school, we ensure they are cleaned and changed properly.

Chair: We need to move on fast due to a vote. Mr. Milner.

Milner: I declare interest as I’m one of the MPs in the school district. May I begin by congratulating your team on this policy? It has certainly improved the whole school and definitely my daughter.

Seager: Thank you for your kind words sir.

Milner: I want to focus on a specific issue, that of the provision of free discounts for families who aren’t well off to buy nappies. There has been some delay in that. Would you explain?

Goddard: Yes Mr. Milner we are looking into that and its due to some electronic problems with companies. We are getting it fixed and apologise for delays.

Timble: The PTA has brought it up and some families are helping others.

Milner: Thank you. Next, you allow the girls to wear any brand of nappies. Why not standardise it?

Seager: We want them to have a choice. We are  considering standardising to a common brand but that may cause economic competition amongst companies.

Milner: I pass on to my next colleague.

Chair: Miss Gorsham

Gorsham: Principal and team, I may not fully agree with you treating young girls in this manner but nor do I fully disagree. I wish to head directly to several  issues: Are the female nurses the only ones changing the girls at school?

Goddard: Not exactly. If a girl is found without or not wear a proper nappy, I changed her into one. If however, the nurse is nearby, she will do it. There are three other teachers in my discipline team.

Gorsham: So a male, you, or perhaps other male teachers, can change a young teenaged girl’s nappies?

Chair: Order, Order. We apologise, but a vote awaits us. We will resume later.

***

Schooling Select Committee

Parliament

1600 local

Chair: Order, Order, this  committee will re-convene. Thank you all for your patience. Ms. Heavensworth.

Ms. Heavensworth: Principal Seager, do you have children?

Seager: A boy and a girl.

Heavensworth: And how old is the girl?

Seager: She is 16 going to 17, yes literally. If I may add, yes, she is enrolled in my school.

Heavensworth: Well then Principal, how does she feel having to wear nappies at her age? Or does wear them?

Seager: Ma’am yes she wears them to school; she doesn’t get preferential treatment. She was against it at first but quickly accepted it.

Heavensworth: Is that because  you formed the policy?

Seager: No, actually it’s because it has improved her attitude and academic performance. It would take a while to elaborate, but that’s the truth.

Heavensworth: and you Mr. Goddard, do you have any children?

Goddard: No, it’s due to some complications.

Heavensworth: So, how do you  feel being the discipline master of teenagers wearing nappies?

Goddard: I don’t feel anything really; I just do my job.

Heavensworth: How about when you punish them with locking nappies and make  them undress during examinations?

Goddard: Member, no I am not  around when they undress, actually as mentioned  earlier, they are made to exchange their uniforms and bras for a gown. This is  monitored by mostly female teachers. As for the earlier question, I just implement what the rules are. The majority of the students understand it, those that violate them quickly behave.

Chair: We don’t have much time now, Ms. Galpin.

Gaplin: Principal, Discipline master, PTA head, You have created horror and fear amongst innocent young laides?

Seager: Ms Gaplin…

Gaplin: Every day, you torture them, turning them into babies, denying them their very basic rights

Goddard: Ms Galpin…

Galpin: You two men and you a lady, ought to be ashamed of yourselves…

Chair: Ms Galpin, I know you are a new MP so I will excuse you this time. Ask a question. Also, this  isn’t a chamber to air your views.

Galpin: Aren’t you all ashamed of yourselves?

Seager: Ashamed? Ms Galpin, we’ve explained the rationale for this initiative. We’ve told  you the results. All in the community, not just the PTA (Mrs. Timble nods) are behind us with this.

Galpin: Don’t you have any brains to see that you are humiliating the girls?

Goddard: I take that as an strong accusation. A large majority of the girls find it better in terms of their character and academic results. There are only a couple of resisting students and out of those, some have adjusted to the policy. In no way do we aim to humiliate or psychologically torture…

Galpin: You clearly can’t see

Timble: As the principal and discipline master said…

Galpin: Clearly…

Chair: Ms Galpin enough. (Bangs gavel. Galpin ignores.) Guards, escort her away!!! (Galpin swears at the two men and lady as she is taken away).

Chair: Apologies for that. Mr. Seager, Mr Goddard, Mrs. Timble, thank you all for appearing. This however isn’t the end of it. We will formulate our report and expect you to carry out our  recommendations, unless you disapprove.  Committee meeting adjourned.

***

“Heya, staying up late?” I heard my dad call  through my unlocked door. “Lot’s of exams tomorrow,” I answered.

“Well, don’t sleep too late; you’ve got to get a fresh mind. I’m sure you’ll do well. Night.”

“Night dad,” I replied and then moved to lock my door. Clearing away my books and notes, I headed to the bathroom. It wasn’t my revision that made me stay up late; it was the thought of how I would be dressed for the exam tomorrow. My dad’s great idea was that girl’s would be in nappies during school hours. For exams, it would be literally just in our nappy, plus some gown that sometimes was see through and exposed our boobs. That was the worst part–being semi-naked while writing under pressure. But the damn rationale was because many girl’s had cheated with notes in their uniforms and bras and sometimes even tights. I  had slowly grown used to this “proecdure”, after all, being the Principal’s daughter, it would look out of place with  me complaining about it. But what I wasn’t used to was having exams like this during my period.

In the past, it was straight forward. Wear a sanitary towel and then change it regularly. You could ask to go to the loo if you need to change. But with the nappy ruling, girls weren’t allowed out of the exam room, even for pooing. With my period occuring, I had to use not a pad but a dreaded tampon.I hate tampons; they are so damn difficult to insert and icky when yanked out. But damnit, it’s the school rules. After brushing my teeth, I changed into a thicker pad and donned my nightie. It would be the last time for hours that I would get to wear knickers, even though it was  to hold a pad in…

***

I woke up extra early and wandering into the bathroom, I found that my overnight pad was soaked. Damnit, I thought, stripping naked and throwing the pad in the bin, how could I make it through with just a nappy today? Yeah, it’s exam/test time, where we girls not only where a nappy but only that an a slightly translucent gown in the exam hall. All due to the past history of girls cheating during tests. I told dad many times that this is too extreme, but no, he and his jolly gang of senior teacher’s wouldn’t budget. Shower done and hair come, I fished out a tampon and managed to insert it in on my second try. Next. walked naked back to my room and look at my knickers. I’ll miss you for the day, I thought and regrettably dragged out a nappy . Having taped it on many times, I still couldn’t get it right and had to re-adjust the tapes.

Downstairs, I found a note from dad. “Had to leave for the school early. Good luck today pumpkin.” Yeah, thanks dad. Good luck to my uterus from not bleeding too much. I looked around the kitchen and decided to go light by draining a thick cuppa tea and grabbing two muffins and a banana which I finished on the way to the bus stop. “Hey, hey,” my friend Sian, a Welsh girl who cared alot more about children than anything else. “How’s you today?”

I mumbled an ok and she immediately continued asking why I was so glum. I mouthed the word “PERIOD” to her and she argued back that it is just life. “Well, you know, you dad made us all wear nappies,” she said. As if you don’t know nappies aren’t for periods, I thought. As we alighted at the school gates, I felt a signal from my bladder. Darn, must be that large cup of tea and the extra juice I drank along with the quick breakfast. Normally as a girl, I would have held it until the loo, but this was much different. Telling Sian to walk ahead, I stood by the gates, squatted a bit then answered the call of nature. I hope it’s not too much, I thought, then followed the line of girls inside. As per usual, there was a duty teacher checking if we were wearing the right “equipment”. “Well, hello Lauren,” the science teacher said as I lifted my skirt to show her. “Pass. Have a good day today.”

It was still about an hour to go before we were had to have our first exam so I spent the remainder in the library brushing up on my books and notes again. We girls usually had to enter the side room to change out by twenty minutes to the hour so I paced myself. That is, until I felt my bladder signal again and another splash of warmth hit the darn thickness around my legs. Damn I thought, how much more can the nappy hold? The rule was tight during exams, no toilet breaks at all so girls would even have to poo in their nappy–yucks. I didn’t want to sit in a partly or quite soggy nappy so the only option was to head out to the nurse, dear Nurse Jenna.

“Hello Lauren,” she greeted me. “How’re you today?”

“Ok,’ I said, quickly snapping off my skirt. Could I have a quick change?”

“Well, it’s only a third of the way down,” the nurse pointed out and I looked.

“I don’t wanna sit in a partly used nappy.”

“Ok,” so I braced myself for the humiliation as I undid my tights and she untaped the nappy. “Monthly time,” she noted and I said yeah.

“I can give you a new tampon as well,” and I didn’t argue. A couple of minutes later, I was changed into new of both items and with another load of luck, I headed for the side room. The rules called for everything to be removed–uniform, bra, watches, earrings and even hair clips. So you could imagine the scene as girls stripped and stood naked in just their nappies. Everything even meant tights–the exam hall was heated. All of our  items were secured in clear plastic bags, zipped up with our names on them. These were passed to duty teachers or senior girls while we all got the dread ‘hospital like’ gowns instead. If you had small boobs, it was ok, but for large cup size girls like me, our breasts could still be partially seen through the gowns. We were further checked to see if we had anything incriminating on our bodies then led in to the hall.

 

***
This continues from the story from the post 13/12/2015

****

“The time is now 9 am, you may turn over your papers and begin.” All of us did so and I started scribbling rapidly. I breezed through the first few questions with ease until I struck a question about volumes and spheres. As I paused to recollect my facts, I felt the urge to pee. Well, daddy make this special rule, so I focused on the question as I let my pee flow out against the nappy. At the same time, my uterus was also emptying its lining against the icky tampon. Finally, I scribbled down what I thought was the answer and turned the page. I felt my pee dribble out again as I faced an even tougher question. Just as I changed my pen, a foul stench filled the all. Yikes, some girl pooped in her nappy. It wasn’t the first time I smelt that but boy it really distracts you. I looked around but it wasn’t that easy to identify the culprit–the perpetrator would be ‘targeted’ for hours or even days later. Bearing the pugent odour, I wrote another lots of mathematical mumbo-jumbo just as the head invigilator called out ’15 minutes more’. Frantic, I again scribbled something down. But just as I cancelled it and wrote something else, I felt the need to poo. Must be this morning’s brekkie. Damn it,  let me hold  until the exam is over. “5 minutes,” I heard them call. Anus, please hold…

“Pens down!” Sweaty from all the writing and thinking, the collection of papers took ages and my body kept increasing its signal. Even after my paper was collecting, there was a waiting time as the invigilators counted the scripts. Finally, we were allowed to go and I rushed out, collding into several girls in the process. “Hey, Lauren,” Sian called out but I ignored her  and ran to the loo. It was around the next corridor. Murphy’s law, as American’s call it, happened as I made my best dash. My faeces came out, all into the pretty soaked nappy. “Shit,” I said, more in swearing and digust than describing it. Charging through the door and the cubicle, I lifted up the gown and saw the dark mess. No way I was able to change it myself–I didn’t even have my own uniform or bag with me–so the only option was to walk out to the nurse’s office, the icky poo sliding against my bum.

“Hello again Lauren,” the nurse greeted me.

“I…” I started, feeling rather embarrassed.

“Hop up on the table darling,” she pointed and I did so. The foul odour seem to increase the moment she untaped the used nappy. “Did you eat something expired today?”

“Just muffins and a banana,” I said, as she helped me roll over to clean my whole lower waist. Usually I hate it when someone else does this nappy change but this moment I was grateful she was wiping every inch clean.

“Well either of them must have giving you a slight diarrhoea,” she said, now changing my used tampon. Again, I was feeling brand new. Moments later, I was taped back up into a fresh nappy. “Hold on, take this so that your poo won’t be losen again. You don’t want to have another case of diarrhoea during an exam day.” Thanking her, I made my way back.

***

“Hey, you alright?” Sian asked as I plopped back on chair next to her. We were in a holding room for all students taking exams since our next one was due in 45 minutes.

“Stomach trouble,” I grumbled.

“Well you have your nappy on,” she commented as if that was a natural part of clothing.

“But a girl should be able to hold it till the loo.”

“Your dad’s ruling not mine.”

“Shall we revise?” I changed the subject and we got out our Geography notes to revise. Geography generally is easier than maths in my view, but with my period and the events of the last hour, it was a bit more difficult to cramp the facts into my head. Once back in the hall, we were re-checked for any marks on our bodies, silly move that was added along with the nappy and gown wearing–as if anyone would write anything given our humiliated state! Once more the call was made and everyone was frantically writing away–there were more questions in the same time period so that meant less time per question. This time, I didn’t even wee in a bit in my new nappy and no other girl pooped (or maybe they did but not enough to stink the room). Pens down, I heaved a sigh of relief since the next part was a longer break, one where we were allowed to get food.

“Hey Lauren, save me a seat will you? I need to get changed,” I noticed Sian had soaked the front part of her nappy. Nodding, I head for the cafeteria in my gown and nappy.

Short one, TBC.

I chewed on a

***

Back to SCGS:

 

The Wet Hostage


Warning: 1) Young girl. 2) Mentions wetting/urination, desperation.

It was suppose to be a normal school trip to the Middle East, a region filled of wonder and beauty as well as conflict. Our flight was slight delayed but soon enough we were all headed home. As it was an early morning flight, most of us were sound asleep. That is, until there was a commotion, which grew in volume. An eerie, accent voice came on the intercom announcing that they plane was hijacked!! I literally shot up in my seat as I saw masked men with submachine guns and pistols walking down the aisles instead of the flight attendants. We were all ordered to turn in all electronic devices and I regretably handed over my iphone which contained pictures of the sights we had visited. The plane turned sharply to the left and began to descend. Within minutes, land could be seen out of the window until the accented voice told all of us to close the shutters.

The plane did a hard landing but thankfully I remembered to put on my seatbelt before landing. Then came the errie accented voice. “You all will be allowed to disembark. All of you, except one person. We will take one hostage for a collateral. ” Immediately everyone started to mummur, wondering who it will be . “Silence!” The voice continued. “Everyone quiet, stay in your seats and look straight ahead.” I did so, trembling. Who would be picked? I surmised so sort of young and good looking person. But a boy or a gir…

“You,” I heard the same voice from the speakers and turned to see a masked man. “You, stand up!”

“Noo….” I cried not believing I was chosen.

“Mister, look she’s only a kid, pick someone…OW!!!” I turned to see my teacher Mrs. Seagger interjected only to receive a large blow on her head. “SHUT UP!! Girl, get up NOW!” With my feet trembling I did so and was yanked immediately my a second masked man.

“NO! Don’t take…OW! OW!!” My teacher was again struck on the head but before I could turn around, I was pushed towards the front of the aircraft. The accented voice was on the speakers again: “All passengers will now disembark. Slowly and no heroics. We will watching you.”  As I heard the movement of the passengers, I was turned around to face the masked men again.

“What’s your name girl?” The senior one asked.

“Catherine..” I mumbled more because of my fear of their looks and their weapons.

“Well Catherine,” he continued, now with a softer tone, “don’t be scared. We won’t hurt you, unless you try to resist. We will fly on to another airport where after a short while you will be released. OK?” I slowly nodded but didn’t expect the next part. “Tape her up, and watch things from here,” he ordered his companion.

WHAT?! My hands were yanked behind my back and I felt the feeling of thick duct tape surrounding them. “Ha…mmmmppph!” something cloth-like was jammed into my mouth and then I felt another sticky duct tape plastered over my lips. Before I could move any further, he knelt down and wrapped tape around my nylon-covered knees and ankles. Her further wrapped tape above and below my small breasts. With tape literally all over me, he lifted me up and carried me to front cabin. He buckled me in and said, “now stay here.” I certainly couldn’t move anyway; the tape was really tight!

A few minutes later, I felt the plane moved–we were flying off again! It made me even more apprehensive since they didnt say where we were heading. What if the hijackers/kidnappers didn’t keep their promise and left me in some deserted place? What if they threw me in some hell hole or fed me to some animals or evil people? Or worse what if they killed me?

As I thought about my fate, I then felt a signal from my bladder. Yeah, I drank alot of water, juice and soft drinks during the flight and the meals provided. As the plane continued move, I felt a stronger signal from my bladder and began to struggle against my bonds. Suddenly, the plane banked and started to descend. Well, that was fast I thought. And thankfully too. Hopefully they would release me and I would run straight for the toilet.

The land was even rougher than before. As the plane finally halted, my bladder pressure was unbearable. “MMMMpppp…” I groaned through my gag. One of the masked men appeared and asked, “WHAT?”

“Mmmm…..” I cried again and finally he peeled or rather yanked off the tape and took out the cloth. “Please, mister, can you let me use the toilet?”

“No, no way girlie. You want a quick escape,” he replied and attempted to replace the cloth. “Please, mis….mmmppph!!!!” He jammed the cloth back and taped it up. “Mmmmmppph…” I wailed but he disappeared.

Shit they wont even release me for a pee. I squeezed my legs tight together, knowing that wasn’t going to help but still did so. Please, please, please release me. Five minutes later, I felt that my bladder was really going to burst. “MMMMMMPHHHH!!!” I cried and the man reappeared.

“I said no.” He snapped but I continued to wail and give him  a pleading look. Finally, he reached down and cut away the tape around my knees and ankles. My hands were shortly freed. “Mmmp?” I said, pointing at my gag. “You don’t need your mouth to pee. Two minutes max.”

I scooted off but just as I got past the end of the cabin, my bladder gave way. Warm pee soaked my knickers and trickled down my tights. Oh SHIT SHIT SHIT! I thought silently as I pushed open the door to the cubicle. I had just managed to unclip my skirt and lower my undies as another lot of pee shot out. Oh man, I thought, I’m so embarrassed. Then again, it was that hijacker’s fault for not releasing me the first time. I cleaned up as best as I could but the stained undies and tights felt just terrible against my crotch.

“Good, you are back,” he said seeing me. “Accident?” I was still too embarrassed and in any case was gagged so I couln’t reply. Suddenly,”BANG! BANG! BOOM!!!” The air suddenly turned smoky and I gave a muffled yelp as I smelled pungent fumes. My body collapsed to the ground more from the odour rather than the ear-shattering explosions. Just over a minute later, I heard cries of “She here! Hostage safe!” The smoky air suddenly dissipated and my vision cleared to see many masked men with MP-5 submachine guns. One knelt down and gently removed the tape across my lips and eased out the soggy cloth.

“Are you ok Miss? Everything fine no..oh dear, looked like you had an accident,” the HRT man said, causing me to turn bright red all over.

THE END.

The Patient


The clinic was new to the town and it was certainly welcomed since the old clinic shut down. The single doctor and nurse were strangers to the town’s population but since it was the only medical facility around, they had to visit it for any illness. It was summer time and the town’s star pupil, Charlotte Seager, started coughing a lot. “You better take leave and visit the clinic,”, her head teacher commented.

 

“I’m…*coughh*, ah *cough*…fine,” she stammered. Charlotte or Charlie loved school and did want to miss her maths and history lessons.

 

“You’re certainly not. He’s a day pass, go and if need to, rest at home tomorrow,” the teacher replied. Half-grumbling, half coughing, she packed her bags and exited the school grounds. The sun outside was brightly shining and that was exactly helping the sick 16 year old. Thankfully, Charlie had changed to socks instead of nylon tights. But as she walked to the bus stop, the heat of the day grew and made he cougher even more. The bus ride was no comfort since there was a lack of fans or air-conditioning and it was a rather rickety bus. Finally, after another few more minutes in the heat, she was inside the clinic.

 

“Do you have an appointment dear?” The bespectacled grey haired nurse behind the counter asked.

 

“*Cough*…no,” Charlie replied.

 

“Oh do fill this form up. And there’s a water fountain over there. You look like you’ll need it.” After scribbling her particulars, the teenager thankfully drained three cups of water down, which did sooth her throat. Sitting down, she noticed that there were several patients in front of her. It’s one of those logn waits she thought, and picked up a magazine.

 

After a few minutes, Charlie felt that her bladder was signalling. “Uhm, nurse, is there a ladies in this building?”

 

“Outside, turn left but I believe it’s under repair today. Some leaky pipe.”

 

The signal from her bladder grew so Charlotte exited anyway, and indeed found the door to the unisex loo locked. “Open, damnit!” she cried as her bladder’s pressure grew. Returning to the waiting area, she asked, “Nurse, is there any other toilet here or nearby?”

 

“No, sorry. I thought you have a sore throat?”

 

“Yeah,” Charlotte replied hoarsely then coughed. “But I really have to…” She didn’t want to say the word, especially not with the other patients around.

 

“I’m sorry, I do think Dr. Shaw won’t be much longer. Just sit down.”

 

Shaking her head Charlotte did and crossed her legs and squeezed her eyes. Damn it, hold bladder hold. But why would she suddenly need to pee? It wasn’t that much longer. After what seemed like eternity, the other patients were cleared and the nurse called her named. Charlotte literally ran into the room to find a rather young doctor.

 

“Good afternoon, Charlotte?” he read off his folder. “I’m Dr. Charles Shaw. Please take a seat.”

 

She did so, again crossing her legs tightly with the increasing pressure from her bladder. “Your throat is given you problems I believe,” he continued. “Could you open wide?”

 

She did so and squeezed her eyes shut as he flashed a light and prodded around. Oh please, please, someone stop this torture! Give me a toilet now!

 

“Hmmm, that is really a nasty throat. I’ll have to prescribe a heavy dose of anti-bio..” Just as he was talking, Charlotte couldn’t bear it any more and shot up from the chair. “Doctor, I need to….” Suddenly her bladder emptied itself, a larger shot immediately staining her translucent blue knickers and spilling onto the ground.

 

“OH MY GOSH!” she exclaimed with her hoarse voice. “Oh m..,,” she was lost for words.

 

Doctor Shaw clam walk over and said, “It’s ok dear, why don’t you head over to the bed over there?” Her face red with embarrassment, Charlotte proceeded to but her bladder gave way again, with another dribble. “What…what’s happening to me?”

 

“Nurse Jane? Could you close reception and bring the mop?” The Doctor called. Turning to his patient, he asked, “have you had any bladder infections recently?”

 

“No…I,” she coughed and felt another short drop of urine. This is a nightmare. “I don’t know what’s happening to me?!”

 

“Well, female bladder problems aren’t uncommon with teenagers,” he commented, and that didn’t ease her worry. Just then the nurse came and saw the mess of the floor. She immediately began to mop but Charlie could only turn redder with embarrassment.

 

“Doctor, I really…” suddenly she peed again, this time onto the bed. “What’s happening to me?!!! Why….”

 

“Relax, Charlotte,” Dr. Shaw said, motioning her to roll over and placed a thick towel underneath. “Could you remove your skirt and underwear for me?”

 

Already bright red, Charlotte did so and instinctively cover her private part. The doctor walked ovr to a cabinet and extracted several items. “I can’t tell exactly what’s happening Charlotte, “ he said, “but I can give you something to stop it temporarily.” A minute later, he was by her side, holding a filled syringe in his arms.

 

“What…what’s that?”

 

“It’s an antidiuretic,” he replied, and she racked her brains, remembering reading  the term in one of her advanced biology textbooks. “It will moderate your urine production for a while.” Oh. “Now, Can you place your hands by your side? Won’t hurt.” Contrary to his description, the injection did. Then he used another syringe to extract a sample of her blood.

 

“Now,” he continued, “that’s temporary and I took your blood for further testing. Meanwhile, I suggest you should be given protection.”

 

“Protection?” Charlie queried, shifted in the bed.

 

“Well, the drug will wear off after a few minutes and it is not recommended to give another dose, especially for someone your age. So you need to wear continence underwear to catch further leaking.” It was then she saw what he had extracted out of the cabinet.

 

“A NAPPY?!”

 

“If you want to call it that,” he continued in his calm voice. “Now, could you spread…”

 

“No, no way I’m going to wear that….” she croaked, starting to move off the bed. “I’m…”

 

“You certainly won’t be going home with that stained knickers and skirt young lady,” he pointed,

 

“This is so silly. Let me….”

 

“I say you have about eight or so minutes before you start wetting again. Now back on the bed.”

 

Charlotte’s head was spinning and suddenly she felt a bit dizzy. “Back on the bed,” she heard him say again. For some reason, she didn’t want to but somehow she found herself flat again. “Nurse, please hold her still,” he said then she heard a whirling sound.

 

“What….”

 

“I need to shave you,” he said, “if not the urine and briefs will create rash.”

 

“Noo…” she croaked but the elderly nurse held her down and she felt the metallic blades again her area. After a few minutes, she was released, only to be rolled over to have a mat replace the towel and then something slide underneath. “Ow…Ow…OW!!!” she cried, as she felt a creamy cold substance between her legs.

 

“It’s to again guard again rash,” the doctor commented, glancing at his watch. “Two minutes.” She then realised what else was against her bum. But with the nurse holding her, adhesive sounds followed and the 16 year old was now taped with an adult nappy around her.

 

“Oh my…shit!” she felt a growing warmness between her legs and moved up to see pee staining the nappy. “I can’t believe it….”

 

“I told you the drug was temporary,” he commented, removing his medical gloves and then stowing the rest of the materials back. “You can get dressed now.. Not your underwear of course.”

 

“But how can…”

 

“Put your skirt on, Charlotte,” this came from the nurse. She gingerly did so and found it did fit over the thick nappy. “But…I can’t go out like this!”

 

“You certainly can’t go out with urine flowing down your legs either,” he said, “look, the brief can’t be seen at all.” He was right it couldn’t unless someone stared at it.

 

“But…”

 

“I think we’re done here, Charlotte. Nurse Jane will give you the antibiotics. Since you are a school going child, there’s no need to pay for the pills or the briefs.”

 

“But…”

 

He scribbled something and passed it to her. “Here’s a note which brand of adult briefs or nappies you would want to get. Tena Slip Maxi would be a great choice. They are thin and absorbent. At least buy one packet and come back to me in say about a week’s time. The blood test results should be done by then.” Just as on cue, another burst of urine stained her nappy and she squirmed.

 

“Wait, do get back on the bed.” She didn’t want to, but eventually gave in and he lifted her skirt. “Hmm, it’s it rather soggy. Nurse, can you get another out? And the cream and wipes.” The tearing sounds of adhesive were heard again and the nappy was yanked away. “Sorry, hospital-grade briefs.” he commented, though she did not get him. The stinging happened again as he wiped her vulva and spread cream on it again. Another nappy was slid underneath and secured in place.

 

“But…” she said again getting up. “I can’t walk properly.”

 

“Nonsense, it’s your mind dear,” the nurse replied. “And when you get the Tena Slips, they are thiner.”

 

“But…what will my family and friends say?”

 

He scribbled another note. “I don’t think it’s a medical case to excuse you fully from school. But this will excuse you from your Physical Exercise. As I said earlier, it’s not uncommon for teens to be incontinent.”

 

“But…”

 

“We’re closing now. Don’t forget your bag and shoes. And the anitbiotics. Also, buy some wipes and DESTIN cream along with the nappies. If you show the store people the note I gave you, you’ll get it cheaper. See you next week.”

 

With that, the girl who once wore normal underwear half walked, half waddled out of the new clinic. Once she was gone, he turn to the nurse and gave her a hug. “Thanks mum.” he said. “That was a great move, lacing the water.”

 

“And that was a great act son,” she replied, kissing him. “She fell for it.”

 

“Yes. Next week when she returns, she’ll be all ours.”

 

THE END

 

***

 

 

Comments welcomed. Will probably post a sequel.

***

“Hi…” Charlotte said, re-entering the clinic again. She was dressed in a sleeveless beige halter top and pleated jeans skirt. “I’m…”

“Charlotte Seager, I remember you from last week,” Nurse Jane smiled.

“Uh, yes nurse,” she replied, recalling the horrible ordeal. “Actually, I feel much better. Why do I have to be here?” The nurse had called her to arrange this appointment.

“It’s all standard for a check up. You can go right in,” the elderly lady said.

“Hello again Charlotte,” the young doctor said. “How are you feeling today?”

“I’m much better thank you,” Charlotte replied, hoping that it will be a short meeting. “The medicine work fine; my cough is gone.”

“Well, I still wish to take a look. Open wide please,” she did so and the doctor examined her throat with a tongue depressor and a flashlight. “Yes, it’s all cleared.”

“Thanks,” the teenager got up and was about to exit when he called, “what about your incontinence?”

“Uh,” she turned bright red as she spun around, “it still happened across the week but it became less and less.”

“Did you use the incontinence briefs?”

“Uh…no I changed to pull ups which was easier.”

“I’ll like to take a look,” Dr. Shaw said, though it came out like an order.

“Doctor, it’s ok…”

“Nevertheless, I still like to check. Come on the the table.” Charlotte protested again but finally gave in. “Remove your skirt and underwear please.” Her face and arms glowing red, Charlotte did so. “Bend your legs…ah that’s good,” he said then started to prod her vulva with his gloved hands.

“Doctor…” she wailed from from her horizontal position. “Is this necessary? I’m fine, I don’t have…bladder…weakness,” she couldn’t bring herself to say the words.

“You may think it’s fine but it usually isn’t. I need to perform a full urethra examination.”

“What?!” She knew what that word. “No, no, this is too far.” The student yanked up her clothes and announced, “I’m done here,” but just as she exited she felt a sting to her neck and was about to drop to the ground.

“Good job mum. Close up; I’ll deal with her,” Charles Shaw remarked. Quickly he dragged the unconscious girl back into his room. Placing the limb girl

A change of underwear


It all was because of the damn bus….

 

Usually the bus which I take from school back to my neighbourhood would arrive on time. But for some reason or the other, it was late. Not your late by a few minutes late. Like more than n hour late. And that wouldn’t have been a worried had my bladder not given the signal that it need to empty itself.

 

“D..amn,” I said. Usually I don’t swear, not even using mild words like the D word but this was one exception.

 

“Did I hear you swear?” My partner and one of the close friends, Jemimah asked. We ere both of the same age but definitely did not look so. Jemimah was a tall girl, tall at the age of 13, with feminine curves and growing breasts. Many judged her cup size to be nearly B and guessed that she would have a voluptuous size by her mid-teens. I on the other hand was a short, scrawny 13-year old with a flat chest. Many people commented that I could pass as a ten or even right year old, which made me embarrassed.

 

“Yeah, I uh need to pee,” I replied.

 

“Well, surely you can hold. We’ll be at my house shortly,” she replied. I was heaing over to Jem’s place to work on our English project. Mum also wanted me to stay there to until she could pick me up–for some strange reason, my mother didn’t trust me to be home alone, even if I was already a teen.

 

I didn’t reply to Jem and crossed and uncrossed my legs, hoping that I could really hold it. It was probably the vast amounts of Coca-colaa I had across snack and lunch time. Oh darn it, where’s the freakin’ bus?

 

The rickety old bus arrived as I dashed up immediately, almost forgetting to flash my ID until the driver reminded me. The ride went smooth until a red light halted the vehicle. My bladder again gave a signal and I squeezed my nylon-clad legs together again.

 

“Oh gosh, Lauren, you’re not a kid. Hold it,” Jem commented. I didn’t reply again as I squeezed my legs tighter, hoping that I could really hold myself till we got to her place. Darn it, move bus, move!

 

Finally, we reached our stop and I scooted out of the bus. Jem’s house was at the top of a hill which meant another eight to ten minutes of walking. I started to pick up my pace and then after a few house, stopped.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“I don’t think I can hold it,..”

 

Jem shook her head. “Bloody hell, you’re not a baby! Come on, another few more houses and we’re there!”

 

I moved again then pass another side road I bent and felt a warm dampness between my legs. “Oh my gosh, are you peeing?!”

 

“I…I…” I turned bright red as pee continued to soak my underwear and travel down my tights.

 

“Come on, we’ve got to get to my house.” She yanked my arm and half dragged me up the hill, A few minutes later, we were inside her bungalow. Just as I kicked off my flat heeled shoes I felt the dampness between my legs again and stopped.

 

“Quick! Up to my room!” She again dragged me up the stairs, but not before pee another trickled down my legs and onto the floor! “Bloody hell Lauren!” She screamed.

 

“I’m so sorry…”

 

“The bathroom is over there and use the spare towel. I’ll clean up.” Nodding and giving her a “I’m sorry” looking, I did so. I just couldn’t believe it, me a thirteen year old wetting myself! And in another person’s home!

 

After a grateful shower, I dried off and head into her bedroom. “Jem, I’m so so sorry. That was so stupid of me and I’m so ashamed.”

 

“Well, I guess it can happen,” she said, crossing over to give me a hug, I started to feel a bit better.

 

“You skirt, knickers and tights are in my washing machine. Should be ready after an hour or so. Here’s the rest of your uniform,” she pointed.

 

Nodding, I buttoned my blouse (I told you I had no boobs yet) and donned the blazer. Turning to my friend, I remarked, “Uh, can I borrow underwear and shorts or something?”

 

Jem began to cross over to her drawers then stopped. “Uh, I don’t think that’s possible.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Well, look at me and look at yourself.” I then realised what she meant. We were so different in height a build. There was no way I could fit into her undies, let alone any of her clothes.

 

“But…I can’t just stay around semi-naked!”

 

“Well, you’re lucky I’m a girl as well. Still…” she paused then continued. “I’ve got an idea. Be right back.” Five minutes later, she was back with some sort of package under her right arm and carrying a rather large bag with her left hand. Settling the bag down, she remarked, “I’m sure these are your size.”

 

It was then I saw the picture on package. “Are those diapers?”

 

“If you want to use the American term yeah they are nappies. You know my mum’s a nurse and my father’s a doctor? My cousin is a special needs person and often visits us. She needs to wear these.”

 

“Wait, wait, are you suggesting I wear a nappy?!”

 

“Well, as you said, you don’t want to stay semi-naked right? And I don’t think you and I want another accidental wetting.”

 

I started to back away. “No…no way I’m gonna put them on.”

 

“Lauren Bebbington, you will or you walk back home with nothing on you!”

 

I wasn’t really the type of person to defend myself in arguments. “Ok, but this stay between us. No one knows ok?”

 

“Yeah, now,” she tossed the package over to me. “Get them on. I don’t want to see your crotch anymore.”

 

I extracted one of the nappies out of the open package and unwrapped it. It looked alot like a baby’s nappy, except much larger and somehow, it did look like my underwear, except cut open.

 

“Uh…”

 

“You don’t know how to put it on?”

 

“Well no, it’s not a pull on knickers…”

 

“Get up from the bed,” she said, with a commanding tone. I did so and reaching into the bag, she extracted and unfolded a sort of mat and laid it on her bed. It look exactly like a changing mat, except bigger.

 

“Wait, are you going to nappy me?!” I couldn’t believe this was happening to me.

 

“Hurry up and lie own on it. We’ve got to finish the project for Mrs Granger.” I did so, turning red in the face again. I heard her rumaged through the bag and then extract out something. From my horizontal position, I saw her squeeze something on her hands and then ow!!

 

“Yikes!” I felt the cold sting around my groin and private part.

 

“This is called Destin. It’s cream to prevent any rash from the urine. Espeially given your accident just now.” But I just bathed I thought.

 

“No powder?” I murmured from my position.

 

“Not that my mother taught me,” she continued, and I felt another cold sting.

 

“Roll over,” she commanded again. I felt the nappy positioned around my crotch. Next the sound of adhesive was heard as the dreaded device was secured around me. “All done.”

 

I got up and felt like I was transported into another dimension. Moving around slowly, I realised how thick the nappy really was and I was waddling more than walking, Plus there was that sound. “Do you hear that?”

 

“Most nappies crinkle,” she commented, gathering up the stuff.

 

“It feels really weird.”

 

“Well Lauren, you were the one who wet yourself like a child. Plus as you said, you dont want to stay around naked. Now, let’s get on with the project.”

 

We did so as I sat with a thick bum. Time flew by and we easily completed most of the project. Then, i felt my bladder signal again.

 

“Urm, can we pause? Need to use the loo,” I said.

 

“Don’t you realise what you have on?”

 

“Huh?…wait you want me to pee in the nappy?”

 

“Well, that’s what they are for. But wait, let’s still go to the toilet. Just in case, it leaks through onto the floor.” I did so and then my bladder couldn’t hold any longer. I couldn’t believe it as the nappy swelled, catching my yellow urine. I  was certainly turning red.

 

“Well that’s a huge piss. Don’t think you should sit around in that,” Jem said.

 

“You mean to get changed?”

 

“Of course. ”

 

“I think my clothes should be ready,” I countered. Let me out of this.

 

“No, into a nappy. Your clothes need to dry off.” Oh shit.

 

Back into her room, I was place flat down on the large changing mat and the soggy nappy removed. “Ow, ow, ow,” I said, as she wiped my privates and even bum with wipes. Then another sting with the Dermatological cream and within minutes, I was in a fresh nappy.

 

“I’ll put your clothes in the dryer and then we’ll finish up.”

 

While she was gone, I looked down at the babyish underwear. Despite the crinkling, I slowly realised I wasn’t really waddling around as I walked. Perhaps it was a good safety after all, but I couldn’t imagine myself wearing nappies in public just to prevent accidents. That wetting just now was an exception, I told myself. But wearing this, well, it feels kinda cool.

 

Jem returned and we quickly finished off our work. “Well, we’ve still got time to kill, your mum’s not coming until five.”

 

“When will my clothes be ready?”

 

“Another oh hour or less. But frankly you do fit into that nappy perfectly. And look cute.”

 

“I’m not a baby….” i didn’t want to tell her what I thought of it truthfully.

 

“Well, 13 year olds dont wet themselves in public.” I turned red again. “Seriously, you should go to a doctor to get checked out.”

 

“Then my mother will have to know…”

 

“Yeah well. What do you want to do? Watch TV? Snack?”

 

“Snack,” I replied, realising I haven’t eaten since lunch. Soon we were both snacking on tortilla chips and dips, cookies and soft drinks. As I drained my cup of soda, she let out a giggle. “What?”

 

“I bet you’ll need to pee again.”

 

“I won’t.” I never told her how much soda I drank before the darn bus ride though.

 

“Bet so.”

 

“So not.”

 

Well, she was right in the end and nature did call once again. And yes, the nappy was quite full. “Man, maybe you really ought to see a doctor,” she comment as she untapped the nappy and stung me again with the wipes and cream. Maybe, I thought.

 

I stayed and did pee a bit in the third nappy before she brought my clothes up. As I pulled up my own clean knickers, I again felt I was transported back to a new dimension. Just as I adjusted my uniform, the doorbell rang and it was my mother.

 

“How was your day?” she asked.

 

“Oh, just the usual,” I replied, waving goodbye to Jemimah. Maybe I’ll come back again, I thought. For the nappies.

 

The End.

 

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