mellow-sadistic:“P-U! It’s smells a bit stinkyover here, Bridgette. Have you made uh-ohs?”Bridgette
mellow-sadistic:“P-U! It’s smells a bit stinkyover here, Bridgette. Have you made uh-ohs?”Bridgette turned scarlet andrefused to meet her former co-worker’s eyes as she approached. She couldn’t bearto look into the smirking, superior face of “Miss Jessica”, as Bridgette nowknew her, a woman who had once been her equal.Fresh out of school and urgently inneed of a job, the local daycare, ‘Busy-Bees Nursery’, had been the only thing Bridgettecould find. She’d hated every second of it, having to run around cleaning upafter those awful little brats. Determined to get away from stinky diapers atall costs, Bridgette had decided to swap changing nappies for selling drugs. Caught,arrested, and sentenced to regression discipline for five years, Bridgette hadbeen sent right back to Busy-Bees Nursery, only this time not as a member ofstaff.Miss Jessica pulled down thefront of Bridgette’s plastic pants and probed the sodden padding between herlegs with her fingers. “Whoopsie-daisy!” she sang, a delighted smile playingabout her mouth. “Looks like someone’s got a very wet nappy, hasn’t she?Turn around, sweetie.” She spun Bridgette around and cupped a hand to the seatof her nappy. “Oh yes, and there’s a yucky-wucky mess back here as well,isn’t there Bridgey-widgey?”Bridgette cringed at thecondescending baby-talk, and whimpered and wrinkled her nose as the disgustingmess in her nappy was squished against her bottom. She’d experienced these humiliatingnappy checks multiple times a day for weeks now, but she could never get usedto it. She couldn’t stand squishing about in stinky pants while someone else pokedand prodded them, no different from any of the disgusting little brats she’dhad to change at work.“Would you like a nappy change, baby?”Miss Jessica asked sweetly, turning her back around and reaching up to pop Bridgette’sdummy out of her mouth.Bridgette nodded her head,blushing angrily.“No-no, baby. Use your words. Howdo we ask properly?”Bridgette wanted to refuse, butshe knew it would just earn her a spanking. Her lower lip trembled. “Changies pwease!”she begged, hating what she’d been reduced to. “Bwidgette made a poo-poo!”“Good girl,” Miss Jessica saidwith satisfaction. “Now let’s get you over to the changing table. You alwaysused to sneer at us, Bridgette,” she said, helping the diapered young woman outof her crib. “Remember when you said that no self-respecting woman would ever spendher whole life changing diapers? I bet you have a lot more respect for daycareworkers now that you’re on the other end of a dirty bum, hmm? And a bit moresympathy for the babies now that you’re one of them?”Tears of humiliation startedspilling down Bridgette’s cheeks. “I’m not one of them!” she whined.“Yes you are, sweetie,” Miss Jessicalaughed, taking Bridgette by the hand and leading her towards the changingtable. “And you’re going to be one of them for a very, very long time.” She wassmiling a horrible smile that made Bridgette’s blood run cold. “A lot of peopledon’t know this,” she went on, “but even though regression sentences normallyonly last a few years, none of the girls have ever gotten their potty trainingback at the end of them. Not a single one. These”, she said, reaching down andjiggling Bridgette’s loaded nappy, “are forever.”Bridgette looked up into MissJessica’s face in horror, and saw that she was telling the truth. She thoughtabout her horrible, bulky, disgusting nappies and imagined what it would belike to wear them for the rest of her life. What little self-control she haddisappeared. Bridgette scrunched up her face and started bawling at the top ofher lungs. -- source link