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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
This is my fourth story. It is written assuming the readers have already red all of the prequels, so I advise you to do so if you haven’t already. Opinions are very welcome and, as always, all characters are over 18 years of age.
Emily was rather disappointed by how her plan had turned out. Her fraud scheme had been discovered, and thanks to the betrayal of one of her closest associates, she had been apprehended before she was able to flee the country. With the evidence provided against her by the traitor, she had had no chance of avoiding conviction. The only silver lining was that she had managed to enter an alternative rehabilitation program. She knew escaping from an actual penitentiary, even from a low-security one, would be nigh impossible, but she wagered that wherever she would be kept would prove to be an easier challenge. Any attempt at research on what the alternative sentence entailed had proven to be futile, but she had still prepared herself as best she could.
During the trip in the black van, she had tried to count every passing minute in an attempt to estimate where she was being brought but had given up halfway through the trip and had also been unable to estimate her location from what the area surrounding the facility looked like. She had complied with every request made of her and had been quick to realize that the “program” consisted of an attempt to bring the prisoners to a more “malleable” state of mind through forcing them to act out humiliating mannerisms. She highly doubted such a thing could be achieved, at least not with any practical success frequency, but she realized that giving in to their expectations might make an escape more likely, if still not easy.
On the second day of her sentence, she had awoken with her shoulders sore from having them fixed in a spread-out position the whole night. She saw Sophie and Marie get unstrapped from their respective cribs and wheeled off to another room. When her turn came, she allowed the same to be done to herself. She was once again strapped by Isabella in her blue adult-sized stroller and brought once again through the corridor. She started assembling a mental map of the place. The main corridor went in a rectangle around a central area; however, it was not the same corridor she had seen before having her clothes taken away. She hypothesized there was an outer corridor where only the staff was allowed and an inner one where the inmates were kept. It was still technically a correctional facility after all, no matter how unconventional the methods used were.
She was brought to a room with a door already open, and inside she saw Sophie and Mary sitting on a couple of adult-sized highchairs around a rectangular table, their wrists tied to the armrests. Her stroller was unbuckled, and Isabella put her hands under her armpits and pushed upwards, allowing Emily to take a couple of shaky steps into the highchairs without having the plastic spikes under her soles hurt her. She imagined this repeated ritual was meant to instil a sense of dependency from caretakers to their charges. Very well, she thought, she’d give them all the dependency they needed to trust her.
She was not surprised to see the central part of Sophie’s (who was sitting right in front of her) pacifier removed and a spoonful of baby formula presented to her. She would have found it odd if such a humiliation was spared to them. She was also unsurprised to see Sophie turning her head to one side to avoid being force-fed the mush and Mary doing much the same. The caretakers started telling them, in a condescending but firm tone, that they would be punished if they didn’t eat their breakfast. In that moment, Rebecca was brought into the room and sat on the high chair in much the same way as everybody else, with the singular exception that her booties were also tied to the legs of the chair. However, when one of the caretakers approached her with a jar and a spoon, she slammed her head between the caretaker’s eyes, causing them to fall backwards. Isabella, who was walking behind Rebecca in that exact moment, grabbed a syringe from the bag she always carried with her and rapidly but carefully injected it into the back of the girl’s neck. Rebecca slumped over the tray of chairs. So much the better, Emily thought. The more recalcitrant her peers were, the more obedient she would look.
When the formula was presented to her, she gulped it down enthusiastically, spoonful after spoonful. She was relieved to notice that it was very obviously not actual baby formula but rather just a mix of ground-up fruit, which she found to be somewhat tasty, if not a little bit too sweet. It was in this moment that she was hit by a pang of pain from her bladder. She knew she would şişli escort have had to use the diaper at some point and knew that holding it in for long would be met by disapproval from her caretakers, so she decided to let go then and there. In between spoonfuls of mush, she concentrated shortly and told her bladder to let go. It took a while to override her mental barriers against pissing when not sitting on a toilet, but after a few seconds she was squirming in the chair, trying to call attention to her “accident.” Isabella was currently concerned with unstrapping unconscious Rebecca from the chair and putting her in her stroller but seemed to take notice of the patterns on Emily’s nappy fading. Emily then finished the jar of “formula” and did not resist the reinsertion of the pacifier’s nipple into her gag.
Isabella walked up to her and said, “Well, it looks like we have a very well-behaved girl right here. And she even wet herself willingly! Let’s get you into a fresh diaper, and, (she lowered her voice), if you keep up this behaviour, there might be a little reward for you at the end of the day.” Emily couldn’t answer, of course, but she did hope that the mentioned reward would involve her being allowed to see the outside of the facility, so she could get a better idea of how large it was and where it was located. Meanwhile, Sophie and Mary had, one way or the other, been fed the same mush and had already been carted off by the two remaining members of the staff. Emily was now alone in the room with Isabella. She unstrapped her from the highchair and walked up to a wall, whereupon she pressed a button, causing a changing table to slide out of the wall. Emily wondered if there wasn’t one concealed in every room. This place was, quite definitely, not sparing expenses to humiliate them. Once again, Isabella placed her hands under Emily’s arms and allowed her to awkwardly waddle her way to the changing table. She lay on her back on it, and Isabella snapped her mittens to restraints on her sides. Isabella undid the tape on the diaper and slid it out from under her.
Emily tried to distract herself from the fact that she was currently having her crotch wiped clean by looking at the ceiling of the room, whereupon she noticed a small glitter of light, which was only visible from that angulation. She imagined it was likely light reflecting upon a small, shiny speck of glass. She started forming the principle of a theory as to what it could have been in her mind but was quickly brought back to reality by the fact that Isabella seemed to be concentrating her wiping a little bit too much on the area immediately under the centre of her chastity belt, and it had started to become… distracting. A slight mist started settling over her mind, distracting her from her thoughts, until, a few seconds later, to Emily’s slight frustration, Isabella stopped cleaning her and finally closed up the front of her new diaper and disposed of the old one. She was strapped back into the stroller, and Isabella pushed her out of the room.
She was brought to a third room. It was larger than the room where they slept or ate and had a rubber floor. Colourful drawings of cartoon characters adorned the walls and the sort of toys one might have found in a doctor’s office’s waiting room were sprawled about on the ground. Next to the entrance were the strollers of Sophie and Mary. Her stroller was parked right next to them, and Isabella undid the “seatbelts” on the pram. She was expecting Isabella to help her out of the seat, but she just stood there, next to the stroller. After a few seconds she figured out what she was expected to do: she got out of her stroller by herself and immediately dropped onto her knees. She found that, thanks to the rubber floor, walking on all fours wasn’t particularly uncomfortable.
She saw Isabella walk to the corner at the other side of the door and sit on an office chair and start scrolling on her phone. She continued looking around. Mary and Sophie were both sitting on the wall next to where she was, just awkwardly staring at each other, then the rest of the room, then each other again. Emily decided to make her way to one of the toys and to start absent-mindedly fidgeting with it as her mind worked. Biometric locks on doors, unknown position within the building, unknown geographical location of the building, heavy and constant surveillance, the mittens and the booties… she saw no, even remote, possibility of escape without gaining a few “levels” with the caretakers. She pushed that train of thought to the side. Next up: Could she get help from any of the other inmates?
They hadn’t even tried to look obedient to the caretaker’s eyes, so they probably weren’t the sharpest tools in the taksim escort shed, but perhaps if she could find a way to communicate, she could trick them into helping her. This brought her to another conundrum: Were there other inmates in that place except the four of them? Considering the number of different caretakers she had seen, different every time except for Isabella, there were probably other isolated groups. How many, she had no idea. She tried concentrating on something else, but it was then that she could no longer ignore the fact that the tingling she had felt from Isabella wiping her had not settled down after her change.
She didn’t know if it was the fault of the diaper, the chastity belt, or if something had been slipped in her formula or milk, but she soon started considering whether Isabella would see her if she started humping her mittens. For the moment she resisted the urge and tried to get back to her scheming, but boredom is the mother of all temptation, and a few minutes later she decided it was worth the risk. Emily sat facing away from her caretaker, with her legs spread out and the toy she was playing with between her legs as a decoy. She placed her mittened hands on the front of her diaper (which, she realized for the first time, had a pattern of pink unicorns drawn on the front) and started pressing on it in a repeated rolling motion. However, she immediately realized that barely any sensation was getting through “sensible areas”.
The chastity belt specifically redistributed the pressure from her hands, which was already cushioned by the mittens and diaper. A few minutes later, she was out of breath, her arms hurt, and if before her horniness was but slightly bothersome, she now could think of nothing else. She stopped to catch her breath (she could only breathe through her nose thanks to her paci-gag) and relax her shoulders. As soon as she stopped her noisy breathing, she felt footsteps approaching from behind. She knew that if she turned around, she’d just look guilty. She leaned forward slightly, anticipating the shame of being reprimanded for masturbating… and then she saw out of the corner of her eye Isabella just walking past her, towards Sophie and… oh.
Mary hadn’t even tried to hide her attempt to quench her needs. She was just sitting with her back to the wall and a hand shoved into the waistband of her diaper, obviously trying to slip her whole mitten under the belt. And, judging by her glazed expression, was having some success. Emily observed with a mix of horror, curiosity, and relief as Mary attempted to remove her hand from her diaper whilst Isabella was just a few paces away. Isabella grabbed Mary’s arm, straightened it out, and pushed at the elbow, forcing the poor woman onto her knees and remaining arm. Without saying a word, she forced Mary to waddle all the way to her chair, sat down onto it, and pulled her onto her lap, stomach down. All the while Mary was grunting from pain and, likely, fear, from behind her pacifier.
“So, Mary, do you know what you did wrong?” A defeated grunt was heard from behind the pacifier. Mary nodded. “That’s right, you tried pleasuring yourself without permission. Now, we’re going to show everyone what happens if you put your pawsies where they don’t belong.” Isabella placed one of Mary’s hands between her knee and Mary’s stomach, placed the other hand behind her back, and swiveled her chair so that the two remaining girls in the room were facing her diaper. They all had a feeling for what was about to happen. Isabella placed a hand under the waistband of her diaper and tore it open, revealing the purple chastity belt lying underneath and Mary’s pucker sticking out from the hole in the back of the belt. Emily hadn’t realized how much the chastity belt spread out their cheeks. Mary must have been feeling incredibly humiliated…
A few seconds later Isabella started spanking Mary. Slowly at first, one cheek at a time. Then she picked up the pace, alternating between sides and sometimes spanking one twice in a row just to throw her off. Mary started crying about thirty seconds in, but Isabella uncaringly carried on for one or two minutes after that, until her backside was thoroughly red with spots of purple on it. At the end, she placed the red-faced, crying mess that Mary had become back on the ground while binding together her two mittens behind her back. Isabella left the room, closing the door behind her, and came back about a minute later carrying a small purple plastic chair with some odd straps dangling from it. She placed the chair in front of the wall. She then led the still diaperless and crying Mary to the chair and started sitting her onto it. It was in that moment that Emily noticed that mecidiyeköy escort the seat of the chair was textured with hundreds of rows of tiny, upturned plastic spikes, barely a few millimetres tall.
They would be hardly noticed by anyone wearing trousers, but if the person sitting on the chair was bare-bummed and freshly spanked… a scream of pain shook the room. Or at least it would have, had it not been somewhat muffled by the pacifier. Mary started kicking her legs and squirming wildly as Isabella put together the two straps on the corners of the chair and secured them in between her legs, like if the chair was a baby booster seat. She then strapped her booties to the legs of the chair and walked back to her desk. Meanwhile, Mary kept squirming on the chair (probably dragging her sensible buttocks left and right on the scratching texture of the chair) before falling forwards, half fainted, possibly because of the pacifier only allowing her to breathe from her nose.
Emily went back to fidgeting with the toy but found it impossible to concentrate with the pictures of Mary’s punishment still fresh in her mind. About an hour later, Isabella unstrapped the poor girl from the chair. Her backside was dripping, probably from having pissed herself during the punishment. She was brought over to a changing table and thoroughly wiped and diapered once more. The girl then crawled over back to the wall where she was earlier and sat there once again. Only this time, she was sitting on her knees, keeping her tush a foot clear off the ground. Her face was devoid of any expression.
Some time later they were brought back to the room where they had had breakfast earlier, where they were fed once again, only this time, no one complained. Emily noticed that a fluffy pillow had been placed on Mary’s highchair.
They were soon back in the playroom, where, shortly after, they were surprised by the return of Rebecca in her red stroller. She was dismounted from her pram and made to waddle awkwardly (she seemed to have her ankles tied to a collar on her neck and her hands bound behind her neck) up to a corner of the room by a woman they had never seen before. She was then left there. About fifteen minutes later, Emily felt a very distinct stench coming from Rebecca, revealing she had just pooped herself. She found it odd, since she had imagined that the belligerent girl would have been the last to give in her last shred of dignity that easily, but it also reminded her that soiling herself either that day or the day after was a guarantee. Well, still better than being spanked the way Mary had been.
A few hours later, Rebecca, Mary, and Sophie were put back onto their strollers and brought to another room. Lastly, Isabella ordered Emily back into her own stroller and pushed her out of the room. They soon passed in front of a dark room where she saw Sophie and Emily watching some cartoon on a TV whilst lying on a pile of large pillows (Mary was lying stomach-down, twisting her neck in order to watch), but they carried on walking the hallway. A few meters later, Isabella stopped pushing the stroller and bent down until her head was on the level of Emily’s. To her slight confusion, she took her mittened hands and snapped them to the two cuffs at the sides of the stroller. For a moment, she feared that Isabella had noticed her attempt at rubbing herself and intended to punish her in some special way.
“Normally new guests need to wait a couple of days for their first ‘taste of release”. However, since you’ve been so wonderfully behaved today, I don’t see any reason why you couldn’t cum your little brains out whilst we go around the corridor a couple of times, don’t you think?” Isabella produced a small black remote with “Emily” written onto it from her pocket. She placed it in her hand and slid a small slider all the way to the maximum. The effect on Emily’s arousal-clouded mind was instantaneous. After feeling but the dull stimulation that managed to get through her apparel for the whole day, the vibrations of the small but powerful bullet vibrator, which had been equipped onto her the day before, hit her like a truck. An orgasm had her twisting in her stroller before they passed the corner, and Isabella intended to walk around the square corridor a couple of times.
Between one wave of bliss and the next, she reassured herself that in the coming weeks she would try her best to be as obedient as possible in order to get all the “rewards” she could. But she wasn’t so sure she was the one “tricking” her caretakers anymore.
So, this is the end of my fourth story. A bit of a long one, I suppose. I’m not a fan of my last work, but I think this one is not half bad. As always, feedback and criticism is welcome.
On a second note, I think this is going to be the last story I write in “The Facility” series for a short while, maybe about a month maybe more or maybe less. I might write something else, however it would be a completely different series.
Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32