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We're all fed up with costly and violent crime, committed by young juvenile males between the ages of 16 and 21. How about a new solution? What follows is a look at an innovative new punishment program being tried with success in a large eastern state.
Once you read this account, you'll see why recidivism is extremely low once the young "criminal" has been given this oh-so-appropriate punishment. It's just the thing for the type of aggressive, overly-"macho" teen and post-teen males who are responsible for much of today's annoying and dangerous "crime wave."

Robert Fredericks was scared. He had never been in a more odd situation in his life, and couldn't even imagine anything or anyplace stranger than where he now found himself.
He was in a brightly-lit, institutional room, sitting in a pink leatherette wheelchair. His ankles and wrists were secured to the chair with heavy straps, and a stiff pink leatherette collar was strapped to the high back of the chair. In his mouth was stuffed a quite large rubber pacifier, with a strap around his head securing it firmly in his mouth.
Robert's hair had been shaved off his head so short that all that remained was a bit of soft "peach fuzz." And that was not the only hair missing on his body. In fact, the bit of "fuzz" on his head was the only hair on Robert's body at all! Even his public hair was completely gone.
He was dressed in a tiny white cotton T-shirt, with very short sleeves. The little shirt fit snug, and was cut so briefly it failed to even come down to his navel. Like the "diaper shirt" of an infant, his little T-shirt had snaps down one side and along one sleeve. Pinned to his "diaper shirt" was a large pink plastic tag. It said "My name is BOBBI", and underneath in smaller type it read "Sissy # 94-207."
Apparently Robert Fredericks had a new name. But he didn't like it much.
He also didn't care much for the pants he was dressed in. As he glanced down he saw once again the wide crotch and sexless styling of the briefs he was in. Worse than the styling was the material: pink rubber. They looked like something a baby would wear. And a baby girl at that!
As "Bobbi" sat in his wheelchair, several young women walked by purposefully. They were dressed like nurses, except in addition to their tight white uniforms, they wore aprons. Some of the aprons were white, and some were pink. And some of the aprons, Bobbi noticed, were made of rubber.
The young women paid Bobbi no attention whatsoever. Since he'd been wheeled to this spot nearly an hour ago, no one had talked to him, looked at him, or even seemed to notice him. Once, when one of the women had to get to a door behind his wheelchair, she just quickly and silently moved his chair and then pressed the brake on with her toe before hurrying off.
It was odd being moved that way, Bobbi thought. It was like he was just a piece of furniture in the way or something.
Finally one of the "nurses" came and wheeled him into a small room. She put the wheelchair (and therefore Bobbi, who was solidly attached to it) near a large wall with writing on it. Again without a word, the nurse/Nanny set the brake and left the room.
Bobbi, out of utter boredom, began to read the writing on the wall.

1. You will ALWAYS do EXACTLY as you are told
2. You will NOT speak unless spoken to
3. You will ONLY answer questions posed to you
4. You will address all Nannies RESPECTFULLY, and say, "Yes, Nanny" to all orders
5. You will offer only brief, to-the-point responses -- and do so RESPECTFULLY
6. You may NOT, at any time, speak to any other inmates
7. You WILL eat what is fed to you. (If you refuse to eat, you will be force-fed orally via tube, which is quite unpleasant)
8. You will drink what is given you
9 You will NEVER attempt, in any way, to "play with yourself" (masturbate) or otherwise engage in any sort of juvenile sexual activities whatsoever
10. You will refrain from making any lewd or suggestive motion, gesture, or signal to ANYONE 
11. Using the POTTY is a PRIVILEGE, which can always be immediately taken away. Ask to use the POTTY only in the very most obsequious and respectful tone of voice. Hope that your Nanny allows you the PRIVILEGE of it's use.
12. Do NOT attempt to "get around" any rules. We will not tolerate any amateur "lawyers" here!
13. Do NOT attempt (or even THINK about) any sort of "escape" (It is not possible -- you must simply serve your time.)
14. Remember that TIME CAN BE ADDED to your stay here for any reason. ALL of the Nannies and other staff members are empowered to ADD TO YOUR STAY if you in any way disappoint them or displease them. A few silly, "snotty" remarks, or even a touch of "sarcasm" can easily add months to your stay here. (All any of the Nannies have to do to add to your stay is turn in a little form with your name, Sissy #, and a simple explanation, such as "Add 2 months to ________'s stay. He gave a sarcastic answer to a question.") There is NO APPEAL regarding these time "add-ons" 
15. Obey ALL rules at ALL times. Obey ALL staff members at ALL times. Do not hesitate to obey any orders/instructions given to you -- OBEY IMMEDIATELY!

Denial of all POTTY privileges; Change in "bedtime" hours (earlier); Change in meals (being fed only things you particularly dislike) Being spanked; Having "playtime" taken away; Having time added to your stay (see above notes); Being restrained for more than just feeding and changing times; Having to wear high-heels (locked-on); Having to recite or write down corrective phrases many, many times; and Being spanked (again!).

Bobbi sat in his wheelchair, and read the words on the wall over and over again. He was positioned so that there was little else to look at. And nothing at all else to do. In an hour or two, he had virtually memorized all the rules. He couldn't really imagine living under such harsh and direct restrictions, however.
Finally a nurse/Nanny came into the room and spoke to Bobbi.
"I see you've read our rules, Bobbi. Remember them well. You are expected to live by them completely right from day one, so "mistakes" will cost you, beginning Right Now. This same list of rules is posted in many places here, so you will have plenty of opportunity to "review" them during your stay with us. In a few weeks, you'll be able to recite them perfectly backwards and forwards. In fact, you should study the rules when you see them, since in three weeks we will test you. You must know all the rules VERBATIM by then, or you will receive extra time.
Well, time to go to the changing area, and get you settled in."
The young Nanny wheeled Bobbi out of the little room and down several long hallways. Though he couldn't see well because his neck was strapped to the chair, Bobbi glanced into several rooms as they rushed by. What he saw both confused and scared him. In one room there was a line of large cribs, with locking tops. In some of the cribs, "inmates" like Bobbi sat or laid sadly with forlorn looks on their faces. In another room a "sissy" was strapped in a high chair with a big plastic bib tied around his neck. A "Nanny" was absentmindedly feeding him some sort of beige mash with a big spoon, slopping half of the spoonful of glop all over the inmate's face. 
Soon the wheelchair turned into a brightly-lit room. Bobbi's straps were undone and he was told to get "on the changing table." He did as he was told, being too confused and scared to make any bold decisions at the moment.
Once Bobbi was on the table and laying down, his wrists were quickly strapped above his head. Another strap was placed across his chest and buckled done. Then the Nanny simply and nonchalantly pulled off the pink rubber pants he had on, leaving him naked from the waist down! He struggled to turn over and hide his now-hairless genital area from female eyes.
"Oh, don't worry, Bobbi. I've seen it all a thousand times. It's just your silly little wee-wee, after all," the Nanny said as she casually brushed her hand over Bobbi's small, soft penis.
"You'll be sleeping in a crib tonight, Bobbi. And the crib has a locking top, so you can't exactly get up to go to the bathroom during the night. Our solution to this little "Correctional problem" is simply to put you in diapers," the Nanny said as she began to sprinkle baby powder on Bobbi's groin.
Bobbi's eyes grew wide and he was nervous. The Nanny saw his distress and smiled.
"You'll get used to it, Bobbi. You'll be in diapers during the daytime as well, by the way. And in a month or so, once you're settled in, you'll have a little operation. It doesn't do much -- except make you completely lose all control over your bladder, so you'll be as incontinent as a little toddler."
With this news Bobbi moaned loudly and sadly through his pacifier/gag. But the Nanny just smiled at him.
The Nanny reached down under the table and whipped out a large, thick white diaper. She expertly folded it into a sort of triangular shape, making it even thicker.
"Lift up your bottom," she ordered Bobbi.
Bobbi hesitated until he saw a stern look on the Nanny's face.
"That hesitation just cost you two extra weeks stay, Bobbi! Now; I said lift up your bottom!"
Bobbi stretched and lifted his bare rear off the cool pink rubber covering of the changing table. As quick as a wink, the Nanny slipped the thick diaper under his bottom. As he lowered his bottom, she drew the thick cloth up between his legs and over his little "wee-wee." Diaper pins, with pink plastic duck heads, were smoothly inserted and secured at the corners of the diaper, snugly holding it on Bobbi.
"Now for some nice rubber pants so you won't get your crib sheets all wet," the Nanny said.
She reached under the table again and came up with a large pair of panties in a light pastel pink tone. She held them up by the waistband and shook them gently near Bobbi's face. The smooth pink material rustled softly and the slightly acrid scent of rubber drifted to Bobbi's nose.
"You'll be seeing, and wearing, an awful lot of these in here, Bobbi," the Nanny said with a giggle. Lift your legs a bit now."
Bobbi didn't hesitate this time. Whatever was happening, he didn't want to add to his time in this strange place!
The Nanny slipped the rubber pants over his feet and pulled them slowly but steadily up his hairless legs. The pants pulled and rustled and popped a bit as the tight legbands stretched around Bobbi's chubby thighs. Bobbi lifted his bottom off the table a bit as the Nanny stretched the waistband of the panties over Bobbi's thick white diapers. She suddenly let the stretchy rubber waistband go with a "Pop!" once the rubber pants were pulled all the way over his diapers.
Bobbi looked down to see the smooth, pink rubber of the panties ballooning over his bulky, thick diapers. It was a sight that was not only babyish, but distinctly juvenile and asexual as well. The wearer of such childish clothing could be male or female, since diapers and rubber pants like he now wore were distinctly genderless in styling.
He hadn't noticed the little cable-like thing until the Nanny began to pull the ends of it together at his tummy. It encircled the waistband of the rubber pants, being held in place by a channel like a drawstring on sweatpants.
"This little waist lock is made of Kevlar with a braided stainless core. There's no way for you to cut it without very special tools," the Nanny said calmly as she looked down at Bobbi and smiled. She then took out a small but beefy padlock and slipped it's hasp through the loops in the end of the cable. With a quick "Click!" it was done -- the lock was locked.
"Rubber pants with this cable at the waist make sure sissies like you don't try to play with their wee-wees when they're in their cribs at night. And it also makes sure that only Nannies can ever remove or change your diapers," the Nanny explained.
"You might want to give some very careful thought to this, Bobbi," she continued. "Remember, we are the only ones who can change your diapers. So you had better decide to be very nice to us, and very respectful, Bobbi. And do exactly what we say. Being in diapers without having them changed is quite miserable -- you probably can't even imagine how miserable yet, since you're new here. But believe me when I say you don't ever want to "cross" any of us, Bobbi," the Nanny explained sternly.
Bobbi was scared and not liking what was happening to him. Also, he could feel that his bladder was somewhat full, and he needed to pee a little. Hopefully something would happen so he could ask the Nanny nicely to take off his rubber pants and diapers so he could use the bathroom. But the large pacifier gag prevented him from even asking at this point.
Bobbi was positioned in his wheelchair again and strapped in. The Nanny bent down when she was finished and grabbed his cheek between her fingers and pinched him.
"Now you just stay here for awhile, Bobbi. I'm going to take my break now. I'll be back later to put you to bed -- or "to crib" I guess I should say. And if you have to go to the bathroom, go right ahead. Your diapers and rubber pants are designed to easily handle any such childish "accidents"!
As Bobbi moaned and whimpered a bit, the Nanny walked away with a slight giggle.
It seemed like an hour before the Nanny came back to see Bobbi. It was humiliating to just be left there strapped in a wheelchair. And more than humiliating, it was very, very boring. Fortunately (or unfortunately) he could read the "Rules List" on the wall about ten feet away from him. To keep from getting bored, he read it over and over again. Like the Nanny intended, Bobbi had most of the rules memorized even before he was "tucked in" for his first night.
"Well, I see you're just where I left you, Bobbi," the Nanny said gleefully when she returned. "Have you wet your diapers yet?" she asked as she calmly and nonchalantly put her hand between Bobbi's legs and felt his rubber pants for the tell-tale warmth of wet diapers. It wasn't a sexual move at all, but rather the calm and practiced move of a babysitter checking to see if a toddler had had an "accident" and wet his pants.
"Well, not wet yet. But you will be, of course," the Nanny said.
The Nanny wheeled Bobbi down another hallway and then slowly through a door into a long narrow room. The room was lined along one side with identical large pink cribs. Other Nannies were there -- and other "inmates" as well. They were all diapered as Bobbi was, and wore little belly-showing T-shirts like his as well. One inmate had a lacy baby bonnet tied on his head. And his T-shirt was boldly embroidered with the words "I Have a Very Tiny Wee-Wee." Bobbi guessed that wearing the silly bonnet and the T-shirt with the embarrassing revelation on it was some sort of punishment.
The odor of the "Nursery" was not pleasant. The mixed essences of pee-soaked diapers, wet rubber pants, and sour milk combined with the even more unpleasant scent of the full diapers of a few inmates who had not been allowed "potty privileges" that day. This unpleasant smell would help "punish" all the inmates, so those who were naughty enough to sleep in soiled diapers were NOT popular with the others. 
Bobbi's chair was stopped before a crib, with a tag on it which read "Sissy Bobbi: Inmate # 94-207." The crib was large and was finished in pink enamel.
"O.K. Bobbi" the Nanny said as she unstrapped him from the chair. "In you go."
Bobbi climbed into the crib and got under the covers. It was only then that he noticed that the cribs were outfitted with pink rubber sheets and the small pillow was encased in rubber as well. A pink vinyl-quilted comforter added a bit of warmth if needed. But the "Nursery" was kept quite warm and humid by the heating systems and all the bodies and wet diapers. Most of the inmates kicked down the comforter and slept only in their rubber sheets.
"You'll be sleeping in your crib for at least ten hours, Bobbi, so just relax and get some rest. You're diapered and you're in rubber pants, so don't worry about making a mess. And if by some slight chance there is some tiny little leak, your rubber sheets will handle it just fine," she explained.
Bobbi was on his stomach, with his head buried in his pillow. He was embarrassed, but also trying to hide his nose from the odor of the Nursery. His eyes just saw the barred top of his crib being swung down and locked firmly in place. The large solid padlock swung to and fro from it's immense hasp, making it plain there was no possible escape. 
The Nanny was ready to leave. But she bent down and reached her hand in through the bars of the crib and patted Bobbi's diapered and rubber-pantied bottom a few times. The sound the patting made was a soft "plop", and Bobbi could barely even feel the pats on his bottom due to the thickness of his diapers.
"Have a nice night in your crib, sissy" the Nanny said happily. "I have a date with my boyfriend tonight, so I have to go now. See you around" she said as she walked off.
Bobbi just laid there and cried a bit in frustration. He could hear a few other inmates whimpering as well. He wondered if they were new inmates like him -- or if this place made one whimper at night forever!
The sound of closing crib tops and slithering rubber sheets filled the room for a few minutes. Then it got quiet and the lights slowly dimmed until there was nothing more that a few little night lights glowing on the walls.
Bobbi didn't fall asleep for some time, but eventually he did. What had kept him awake was the Nursery smell. If he had to sleep with this smell every night he'd go insane, he thought!
Sometime during the night Bobbi woke up. He had no idea what time it was, and no way to find out. There were no windows in the "Nursery", so it could be light outside for all he knew. The reason he woke up is that he had to pee. And he had to go real bad! He held it, of course, hoping against hope that someone would come in and realize he had to go to the bathroom.
He was exhausted and still awake an hour later when he just couldn't hold it any longer. First a few squirts escaped into his diapers, and then he was wetting his diapers full force and uncontrollably. He had waited so long that had someone come in right now and told him he could go to the bathroom he wouldn't have been able to stop wetting himself.
In just a minute or two, his diapers were so wet they squished when he turned over. The crotch of the diapers was wettest, but the front and the back were also soon wet -- all the way to the waistband of his rubber pants. He sarcastically thought that someone would have a big mess to clean up, since Bobbi felt there was no way diapers and rubber pants like a baby wore could contain the amount of pee a grown boy produced. But to his surprise he was wrong. He reached around expecting to find puddles on his sheets. But there was nothing but smooth, dry rubber.
"The leg bands of the rubber pants are pretty tight," he thought curiously. And the waistband was high, several inches over his navel -- and pretty tight as well. As soaked as his diapers were, all of the wetness was easily and securely held within the confines of his voluminous, locked-on rubber pants.
There was little he could do but drift off to sleep, feeling ashamed and babyish that he'd wet his diapers like a 2-year old who'd had too much water before bedtime.
Sometime later Bobbi woke to the sound of a silly Nursery song coming over a loudspeaker. The lights were also brighter than before. Other inmates in their cribs were stirring. And, unfortunately, the odor was even worse than the evening before. By this time, Bobbi thought, everyone's diapers must be soaking wet, or dirty, or both. 
The silly Nursery song repeated itself with annoying frequency. Within five seconds of it ended, it began happily again. . and again. . .and again. . .and again. It was the kind of little childish tune that would get into your head, Bobbi thought. Like it or not, you'd end up with it playing in your head all day long.
The song was to the tune of "LONDON BRIDGE IS FALLING DOWN", but the lyrics had been changed. It was sung by a choral group with annoyingly sing-songy and almost taunting voices. Bobbi listened to the words, knowing he'd be singing them in his head the rest of the day. He could even hear some of the other inmates softly humming to the tune, like some kind of mindless idiots.

"Rubber Pants are All I Wear
All I Wear ...
All I Wear ...
Rubber Pants are All I Wear...
With my wet di-apers.

I Eat lunch in My High-Chair
My High-Chair ...
My High-Chair ...
I Eat lunch in My High-Chair
My Bib tied on Tight-ly

Nanny Laughs at My Wee-Wee
My Wee-Wee ...
My Wee-Wee ... 
Nanny Laughs at My Wee-Wee
'Cause it's So Ti-ny.

Rubber Sheets are On My Crib
On My Crib ...
On My Crib ...
Rubber sheets are On My Crib
Since I Wet Night-ly

In My Playpen I will Play
I Will Play ...
I Will Play ...
In My Playpen I will Play
'Til I Take my Napp-y"

Over and over and over it played, slowly getting louder and louder. It was driving Bobbi crazy. But of course, in his head, he was singing right along with it, words and all!
Finally the music stopped suddenly. Someone just pulled the plug, and the silly tune went from it's loudest rendition to not being there at all in a thousandth of a second. For a verse or two, many of the inmates kept humming or singing with the words. And in Bobbi's mind, he found himself singing verse after verse: "Nanny laughs at My Wee-Wee; My Wee -Wee. My Wee-Wee. . ." It was VERY maddening! 
"Goodmorning you diaper-wetting social rejects!" one of the Nannies yelled as she walked into the Nursery. "Whewwww! Some of you have very stinky pants this morning, don't you? Make sure you raise your hand if you have messed your diapers, so your Nanny can take you to the wash-down room."
As more Nannies filed into the room and walked over to cribs, Bobbi saw about a third of the inmates raise their hands. They were taken from their cribs and led off harshly by impatient Nannies who held their noses with one hand, and dragged along their charges with the other. The inmates toddled along with an unusual bow-leggedness, due to their thick, fully-loaded diapers.
Finally a Nanny came up to Bobbi's crib.
Oh, you're our new one, I see," she said as she unlocked the crib. "I hope you had a nice first night in the Nursery. How did you like the smell?" the Nanny asked, not expecting an answer from Bobbi, since he was still gagged with the large pacifier.
"The morning music is fun, isn't it? You'll be hearing that little ditty in your head all day, probably. We have seven different tunes, and they rotate -- I guess today was probably "All I Wear is Rubber Pants". Not to worry -- you'll soon know them all entirely by heart, sissy!" the pretty young Nanny said as she helped Bobbi out of his crib.
"Come along now!" she ordered as she walked toward the doorway. "We have to get you changed for breakfast."
Bobbi just stood there for a moment, his heavy, wet diapers causing his rubber pants to droop at the crotch.
"That's one week additional time, since you didn't follow me, sissy!" the Nanny said loudly as her eyes flashed anger at Bobbi. "I said, COME ON!"
Bobbi toddled along behind her quickly, his legs bowed by his thick diapers. His rubber pants rustled slightly and his soaked diapers squished inside of them. But there were no leaks, and the high, tight waistband of the pants held them up against the considerable weight of his wet diapers.
"You really must learn to obey immediately, sissy. We don't tolerate much hesitation in here," the Nanny said as they approached the changing room.
The changing room was brightly lit, and painted (as much of the place was) with a light pink enamel. Several rows of large, high changing tables were anchored to the floor, with shelves underneath for diapers, rubber pants, pants locks, baby powder, and other "essentials". Dressers lined the walls with large labels on the drawers: "Pink diaper shirts - short sleeve" "White diaper shirts - long sleeve" "Pink Rompers -- nylon w/back buttons" "Winter playsuits w/snapped crotch"
Several Nannies were busy changing the diapers of inmates who laid on the tables. The sodden diapers were picked up with tongs and dropped into pink plastic diaper pails as big as trashcans. All of the Nannies wore rubber gloves, of course.
"Up you go," the Nanny said to Bobbi. This time Bobbi immediately obeyed, causing the Nanny to smile at him.
"That's better. Now, put you hands over your head," she said.
When Bobbi put his hands over his head, the Nanny grasped his wrists and put them in padded cuffs that were strapped to top of the changing table. Then she slowly pulled on her gloves and tied on a rubber apron.
"O.K., sissy -- let's see just how wet you are after your first night," she said calmly.
The Nanny unlocked the waist cable of Bobbi's rubber pants and then pulled the waistband up and down over Bobbi's thick diapers. She motioned for Bobbi to raise his bottom of the table as she drew the rubber pants down Bobbi's thighs and off his legs. She tossed the large pink pants casually into a bin next to the diaper pail that was labeled in big letters "WET RUBBER PANTS". 
The Nanny then began unpinning Bobbi's wet diapers, tinged yellow from his urine.
"Well, you ARE a wet little boy this morning!" she said. "Good thing we have those new, improved rubber pants, or you might have sprung a leak!" With that she held up the wet diapers with a pair of plastic tongs, letting a bit of urine drip on Bobbi's tummy before dropping them with a loud "plop" into the diaper pail.
Bobbi was powdered, and then the Nanny placed a fresh diaper under his bottom. She securely pinned it on and them whipped out a pair of dry rubber pants from underneath the changing table. Bobbi lifted his feet obediently and let the Nanny pull the rubber pants on him. Soon, with a quick "Snap!", he was diapered and his waistband cable was locked, making sure he stayed diapered until one of the Nannies consented to change him.
Next, the Nanny placed pink woolen anklets on his feet. And finally she unsnapped his little diaper shirt and snapped Bobbi into a new one -- this time in a pastel pink that matched his rubber pants.
"And now for breakfast!" the Nanny said happily. "Come along, sissy," the Nanny said as she unlocked Bobbi's wrists from their restraints.
Bobbi followed the Nanny to the "feeding room", which was near the changing room. Inmates in big highchairs were all around the room, being fed by Nannies. Bobbi followed his Nanny to an empty highchair and when the Nanny snapped her fingers and pointed to the chair, Bobbi climbed up and in. Soon his wrists were strapped down to the arms, and "seat belt" was buckled at his waist, and his ankles were shackled so he couldn't kick his feet.
The Nanny tied a big plastic bib around his neck as she asked, "What would you like for breakfast -- mashed bananas, pablum, and a big bottle of buttermilk? Or perhaps you'd prefer mashed bananas, pablum, and a big bottle of buttermilk?" the Nanny said with a giggle.
Bobbi realized any choice in what he ate was now gone. He would eat what he was fed -- do as he was told -- sleep when he was put in his crib -- and obey in every other way. It was not the kind of life someone over the age of two was supposed to have to endure. But there it was.
The Nanny spooned Bobbi his mashed bananas first. He didn't eat it at first, but the Nanny kept spooning it to him, smearing it on his face and letting it dribble down his plastic bib. As this was happening, another Nanny came up with a large, roll-around mirror and placed it right in front of Bobbi's highchair.
"I guess our new sissy should see what he looks like, don't you think, Monica?" the mirror-wielding Nanny said to the one who was feeding Bobbi.
"Oh, yes - I agree. Right now he looks pretty messy and silly, since he's not eating his mashed fruit," she said.
Bobbi looked in the mirror and saw a horrible image staring back at him. Diapered and rubber pantied, strapped into a highchair, in a bib with messy, sloppy food all over his face and down his bib, Bobbi was in a very humiliating position. His almost-bald head and absence of body hair and skimpy little "diaper shirt" added to his embarrassment.
"If you don't begin eating RIGHT NOW, Bobbi, I'll begin adding to your time!" the Nanny suddenly said.
Bobbi ate the bananas being pushed in his mouth with the big spoon. And after that he ate his pablum, which didn't taste so good. After his "meal", a stand was rolled over and clipped to the highchair. It held a large baby bottle filled with some sort of off-color milk. The nipple was placed near Bobbi's mouth.
"Suck on your bottle now, Bobbi," the Nanny said. I want ALL of your nice buttermilk gone when I get back!"
She then walked off to take a coffee break, leaving Bobbi in his highchair with his bottle. Bobbi sucked on the bottle and made a face. The buttermilk was sour and room temperature. He struggled to get it down without gagging. It was awful!
As he struggled with his stomach to get the buttermilk down, a new problem intruded. Bobbi began to feel the need to use the bathroom. And he didn't just have to "wet", either! He had to "go potty", as they called it here. The whole scene was like some nightmare gone bad. Diapered, bibbed, eating bad food and drinking sour milk. And now having to go to the bathroom with no way to get out of his diapers! What was he to do?
Finally the Nanny came back, looking relaxed. Fortunately Bobbi had finished enough of his buttermilk that the Nanny "let him off" on the promise that "he'd be good and finish it ALL tomorrow!" Bobbi's eyes grew wide as the Nanny calmly explained, "whatever you didn't finish today we'll just add to tomorrow's bottle, of course. So you'll end up drinking all we give you anyway. And when I say we add this to tomorrow's bottle, I mean THIS milk, not new milk of the same amount. It gets pretty sour after a day or two, so I suggest you finish your bottle COMPLETELY tomorrow!" she warned. 
As the Nanny was unstrapping Bobbi from his highchair, she casually reached down and felt the crotch of his rubber pants to see if they were warm from being wet in.
"Still dry, for now, I guess," she said.
Bobbi needed badly to tell her he needed to use the bathroom. He knew he shouldn't speak without being spoken too. All he could think to do was raise his hand.
"You need to tell me something, sissy?" the Nanny asked with a smile.
Bobbi nodded "yes!"
"Well, go ahead -- but don't be too wordy about it," the Nanny said impatiently.
"I need to use the bathroom, Nanny, please!" Bobbi said.
"Well, first off -- sissies like you don't "use the bathroom", Bobbi. You should say you need to "go potty" -- not "go TO the potty" -- just "go potty." And you need to ask me VERY, VERY nicely, Bobbi, since I can easily decide to just let you stay in your diapers."
"I need to go potty, Nanny, please," Bobbi asked as respectfully as he knew how.
The Nanny sat down in a large padded chair that had a sign "For Nannies ONLY!" attached to it. She looked at Bobbi with an amused expression on her face.
"I don't think you get it yet, Bobbi," she said slowly. "Perhaps if you pointed excitedly to your diapers and jumped up and down like some silly two year old and said "I need to go potty! I need to go potty!" over and over again loudly, I might think about letting you go."
Bobbi hesitated, since several other Nannies had gathered around, with sissy inmates standing behind them. This was just TOO humiliating.
"Of course, Bobbi -- if you don't want to ask like I want you to, you can just spend the afternoon in your playpen sitting in messy, stinky diapers. Is that what you really want to do, Bobbi? I think maybe you'd LIKE to go potty in your pants . . ."
Suddenly Bobbi's face flushed beet red and he began to jump up and down and point rapidly to his rubber pants. 
"I need to go potty! I need to go potty! I need to go potty!"
"That's better, Bobbi. Now jump a little higher and point more rapidly, like you REALLY have to go!"
Bobbi continued to jump up and down as the Nannies giggled and laughed at him. A two year old would have had more dignity asking his "mommy" to take him to the potty than Bobbi did at that moment.
The Nannies giggled at Bobbi's antics. But after a few moments his Nanny relented.
"O.K., Bobbi, you may use the potty today," she said as she reached out to unlock the cable around his rubber pants. "But here's the rules. You must be back here ALL DONE and dressed in your diapers and rubber pants in EXACTLY five minutes or less! ONE SECOND longer and you'll not get potty privileges for a full WEEK!"
Bobbi was happy, but suddenly he grew nervous. He didn't even know where the "potty" was! He raised his hand again excitedly.
"You're wasting valuable time, sissy," the Nanny said as she looked at her watch. 
"But Nanny, please, I don't know where the potty is!" Bobbi pleaded.
"Oh, I guess you don't, do you," the Nanny said v-e-r-y slowly. "It's down that hall over there -- and it's a little ways too, so you better get going!"
Bobbi turned and ran from the room, his "Nanny" laughing as he went. He ran down the hall and finally found a large room labeled "potty room". There was no door on the room, and all of the "pottys" were simply out in the open, with no sort of "stall" around them at all. Several of the "pottys" were being used by other inmates. But Bobbi had no time to worry about privacy or such "grown up" things. He quickly slipped out of his rubber pants and unpinned his diapers and took a seat. He used the potty as fast as he could, and them pinned himself back into his diapers quickly, pulled up his rubber pants, and ran quickly back to the feeding room.
"Well, you just made it!" Bobbi's Nanny said as he stood there panting in front of her. She quickly locked Bobbi's rubber pants on him again. Then she got up from her comfortable chair and said, "O.K. let's get you over to the playroom."
Bobbi followed his Nanny down several hallways, still out of breath from his run. But he was quite glad he'd made it. Wetting your diapers was one thing -- but messing them was something else! 
The "playroom" was actually a room of little "cells", more like a jail than a playroom. Each little "cell" was outfitted with a rubber-covered floor pad, a small blanket, and several very babyish little toys, like rattles and so forth. The "playpens" had locking tops on them, preventing the inmate inside from standing up. The playpen's occupant had to lie down curled up, since the "pen" was not large enough to stretch out in. Or you could kneel or sit and play with the little toys, Bobbi guessed.
Bobbi's Nanny opened the top of one of the empty pens and said simply, "In you go."
Bobbi climbed into the pen and watch his Nanny close and lock the top. She then walked away without a word.
Bobbi noticed that there was only one Nanny in the very large "playroom". The Nanny sat on a sort of raised platform in the center of the room, so she could see all the "pens" easily. She even had a pair of binoculars so she could look at a particular inmate's activities in his pen more closely without climbing down from her position. In addition, remote video cameras were placed all over the room, slowly scanning back and forth inside mirrored balls so inmates couldn't tell precisely when their "pen" was being viewed.
With this system, one "Nanny" could effectively deal with about 50 inmates, letting the other Nannies take long, relaxing breaks between breakfast and lunch -- and again between lunch and dinner.
Each pen was numbered. And soon Bobbi heard the "monitor Nanny" call out on a loud speaker: "Pen # 113 - Stop trying to play with yourself through your rubber pants, or I will recommend you for a spanking!"
Bobbi was bored in his little pen. But that was the idea, he guessed. And still, the silly nursery song played over and over in his head. He'd been here less than 24 hours and already he was going insane! How would he make two years of this? (Or was it now two years and THREE WEEKS, since time had been added to his stay!)
Suddenly Bobbi heard his "pen number" called out: "Pen # 98, play with your toys now, and stop being so sad -- look happy -- this is "playtime" after all -- the highlight of your entire day!"
Bobbi picked up the rattle in front of him and shook it slowly. THIS was the HIGHLIGHT? He'd be nuts in less than a week if this was what it was like. And he had lunch to look forward to, also, which his Nanny assured him was even LESS appetizing than his breakfast had been!
After several hours in his pen, Bobbi felt the need to wet again. He didn't spend too much time worrying about how he was going to get out or go to the bathroom this time, however. When he had to go, he just wet his diapers. There was little sense in trying to pretend anyone was going to let him do anything else, because he now knew they weren't.
After a few moments he was not only bored locked in his little "playpen", but he was wet as well. His soaking diapers squished as he moved about. But his rubber pants didn't leak. It maddened Bobbi that this place was so damned efficient! It was obvious they wanted to turn him into some sort of "baby". And, though he thought it would be impossible, within 24 hours here he was -- sitting in a little rubber-sheeted playpen with no hair and nothing to do but play with rattles and little stuffed animals, with a queazy stomach full of baby food and buttermilk. And with diapers as wet as any toddler's, too!
He should have NEVER vandalized all those cars and knocked over all those mailboxes and trashcans, he thought. It just wasn't worth THIS boredom and humiliation for two years. He decided right then and there, after less than 24 hours of being in "THE NURSERY PROGRAM" that if he ever got out of this place with any sanity at all, he'd NEVER break the law or destroy property again! 
Bobbi sat in his wet diapers in his little "playpen" for another hour or so before his Nanny came in for him and said happily "Lunchtime, sissy. Boiled kiddie dogs puree'd to a liquid, mashed peas, and more buttermilk for you! Yummy, yummy!" she said with a smile.
"And we'll wait 'til AFTER lunch to change your wet diapers!"
Bobbi cried like a baby as he realized fully what his life would be like for at LEAST the next 24 months. By the time his Nanny was leading him down the hall back to the feeding room, he was sobbing heavily.
"So, now you realize what it's going to be like in here, don't you Bobbi," his Nanny said. "Well, unfortunately, you're right. And, if anything, it will be worse than you even know now, since you'll undoubtedly make mistakes and have potty privileges taken away -- and be spanked and have to write sentences and things."
"And you haven't even begun to work in the laundry yet, washing all those wet rubber pants by hand. And later, once you're "broken in", you can deal with all those wet and dirty diapers, too!" the Nanny informed him. Bobbi's response to this unfortunate news was to scream like a two year old, and begin his crying all over again. He sniffled as he hopped up into his high chair and let his Nanny strap him into it. His diapers were wet and uncomfortable, and he squirmed in his chair a bit. His Nanny brought over the plastic tray with his lunch on it and clamped it to his high chair. There was a runny pinkish liquid, which Bobbi realized was his "kiddie dog" all ground up. And a greenish glop that was his mashed peas. And, of course, a big pink plastic glass of room temperature buttermilk. Uggghhh! 
The Nanny calmly tied a plastic bib on him and then spooned up a big blob of the "kiddie dog".
"Open up wide, sissy -- here comes lunchy!" she said with glee.
There would be no more crime for THIS chastised little sissy when he got out, that's for sure!

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