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Matron had returned Ronnie to toddlerhood. Over a period of just a few weeks, he was reduced to a sissied, nappied, dummied, restrained, locked, and spanked existence. There was rarely a day that Ronnie wasn't over Matron's knee for a "good smacked bottom" for the smallest of naughtiness against her rules.

Of course, Ronnie was over Matron's knee at least once a day for his morning enemas. He still felt utter shame when Matron put the nozzle in and inflated the balloons, one inside and one outside his bottom. Then the rush of warm soapy water, at first startling, then a bit calming, before the water gurgled and his tummy felt full. The bags had got bigger, so now he was getting a full 2 litre bag, before Matron would put him in the corner, kneeling down with his nose in the corner and knees spread on a soft pad. He had to reach back and spread his cheeks, while Matron cleaned up the bag.

A full 10 minutes and then Matron would deflate the balloons and take the nozzle out. She'd let Ronnie go and sit on the grownup potty, feet up on a small stool, just like a toddlers one. It also had the effect of Ronnie having his knees up much higher. Embarrassed beyond belief, the enema was released. But while that was happening, Matron got the next bag ready, this time clear warm water.

After cleaning himself, Ronnie went back over Matron's knee for the second enema. Again the nozzle and balloons filled his bottom and the water rushed in. Weakly, Ronnie moaned his dismay, not daring to say anything for fear of the bathbrush.

Finally, he was again allowed to let the enema out, before being put in the shower and sprayed clean by Matron, scrubbing him with the bathbrush soaped up. The scrubbing was thorough and included his bottom hole and caged peepee and balls and his more and more sensitive nipples. The cold water of the spray was almost a relief as Matron made sure he was covered head to toe, back to front, inside and out.

But now, after a few weeks, Matron had decided to add to Ronnie's training. She introduced him to his "bottom dummies", a selection of dildos and plugs that went from the size of Matron's finger, to one that he wasn't sure he could get his hand around! One of his chores was now to keep all of his botom dummies spotless and clean, ready for Matron to use.

So far, Matron hadn't chosen the larger of the bottom dummies, but every few days, as she used the chosen dildo, or put the plug in before nappying him, as he moaned and squirmed, she would make him ask for a larger bottom dummy, make him beg for a bigger one because his bottom needed to be taught and he needed to learn that his mouth and his bottom were Matron's to use.

If he didn't beg satisfactorily, Matron would immediately start spanking, starting with his thighs, the most childish of smacks, but hard and stinging, until his legs were red and sore and he was in tears. Then it would be nappies down if he was plugged, or dildo pushed right in, as Matron would cover his bottom as well, making him crimson all the way up his cheeks and even pulled them apart so that they were red and sore as well.

Of course, Ronnie would be a tearful wreck, pleading for the larger dummy, agreeing with Matron when she said that he needed it to be large, that his bottom needed to be filled, that he wanted to please Matron and her friends. She would make him hump the plug or dildo, smacking his bottom if he didn't do it to her satisfaction.

By the end, she would make him stand and get the next larger plug, make sure it was properly lubricated, both with his tongue and with the silicon lube for his bottom. Then she would bend him over the changing table and have him stretch his cheeks wide, as she put on her latex glove and carefully used one and then two and then three fingers, to make sure his bottom was properly ready.

As he squealed, she would force the new plug slowly in, twisting it and pulling it back before pushing it further. Ronnie whimpered and squealed, face messy with tears, as his new dummy made its way until it was firmly in place.

Matron made him climb up on the changing table, where she strapped him down, lifting his legs and attaching them to the cuffs holding them in the air. Depending on her mood, Matron sometimes decided Ronnie needed a bit of extra color, so out would come her nursery strap. The strap would make quick work to getting Ronnie howling once more.

Crying and completely cowed, Matron slid the three thick terry nappies underneath his bottom, covering him with powder and rash cream before pinning the nappies tightly. She put on a snap-up pair of plastic pants, making sure the nappies were tucked in. Ronnie squirmed as the tight elastic rubbed against his sore smacked thighs. The plug throbbed in his bottom as it throbbed from the spanking and strapping. Sitting him up, Matron pulled up another pair of plastic pants, before a onesie that had snaps, thick cotton tights, Ronnie's baby reins tight around his chest and with the crotch piece tight and locked out of reach.

Ronnie couldn't even walk, so thick where his nappies, combined with the way they were pinned and the plug. So he crawled over to his cot, where Matron strapped him down on his back, before his hands were mittened.

As a last humiliation, Matron introduced him to a "new mouth dummy" as well. This one was inflatable and had a tube attached. Ronnie whimpered as Matron used her gloved fingers to rub orajel in his mouth, completely harmless, but made his mouth numb. She strapped in the new dummy, inflating it until Ronnie moaned. She attached it to the enema bag, again filled, this time with cold water.

Lifting up the sides of Ronnie's cot, she started the flow of water. Ronnie had no choice but to swallow, as she watched and waited, making sure he both drank it all and didn't choke. Finally Ronnie finished and she let the dummy deflate a bit, enough that Ronnie could breath around it.

She slowly patted and pushed on Ronnie's nappies, making the plug go deeper, making Ronnie desperately want to hump, but unable to. Eventually, all the water had its effect and Ronnie wet his nappies shamefully as Matron teased him about what a wet and silly baby he was, that he needed his mouth dummies and his bottom dummies, because both of those ends belonged to Matron, to use however she wished.
Interesting piece; the question is - is it the fruit of a vivid imagination or borne out of experience?
(12-27-2020, 05:44 PM)Girlygirl Wrote: [ -> ]Interesting piece; the question is - is it the fruit of a vivid imagination or borne out of experience?

Yes and yes, a pinch of this and a pinch of that, I've definitely experienced some of the things and imagined some of them.

The trick is to know which is which.

This story was inspired by some of what I've had done to me and also Bobby's recent picture of his enema nozzles up to what he calls the "sissy splitter".
It's a very lovely tale, Wailer. Thank you for sharing!
There's nothing quite like the feeling of being stuffed to capacity by a massive phallus, is there? Wink
Thank you for a great story. It's an interesting twist.
Thank you for this faboulus story.
Mitains are in mohair woll ?    
gislaine from France
(12-28-2020, 04:15 PM)Bobby1111 Wrote: [ -> ]It's a very lovely tale, Wailer. Thank you for sharing!
There's nothing quite like the feeling of being stuffed to capacity by a massive phallus, is there? Wink

It's something I'm learning to love Bobby. Even though its so shameful to think about wanting.
(12-29-2020, 12:49 PM)wailer Wrote: [ -> ]
(12-28-2020, 04:15 PM)Bobby1111 Wrote: [ -> ]It's a very lovely tale, Wailer. Thank you for sharing!
There's nothing quite like the feeling of being stuffed to capacity by a massive phallus, is there? Wink

It's something I'm learning to love Bobby. Even though its so shameful to think about wanting.

I enjoy reading these stories. I enjoy how you refer to matron she is a powerful person in your life and demands respect and worship.
That’s a lovely story, thank you Wailer.

There’s something deliciously humiliating about the contrast of having a grown-up, full or extra sized dildo forcibly inserted, and yet then it being kept firmly in place with a thick babyish nappy and a pair of baby knickers.
Thank you Wailer, I thoroughly enjoyed the picture you've painted of Matron's rigourous disciplinary regime.