He didn’t know where to look as the four girls, one of them his cousin, peered over the rail of the old cot where Jonathon was secured by his wrists and ankles. The shame of being strapped in the cot he could probably manage, it was the fact that once he had been tricked into being secured to the bed they had stripped him below the waist and put him into a big brightly coloured nappy, much resembling the ones he wore when he was a kid. That was an hour ago. Now they were looking down at him and laughing not only because he was an eighteen year old boy wearing a nappy but the fact that he had wet it.
“Please Rebecca! Let me out.”
“Oh no little cousin we haven’t started yet! Your not coming out until you’ve filled your nappy with a big stinky poo poo!”
“No, please - I wont do it!” He shouted.
“Oh yes you will baby! You won’t get much choice when that laxative I put in your drink earlier gets to work! And better still we’re going to stand here and watch you do it!”
(In my ABU Cushies at Nanny Betty’s adult nursery)
