“We’ve overheard them! We know exactly what they’ve got in store for you, don’t we Daisy?”
“You’re going to stay in the nursery until Friday including night times and be our likkle babie……”
“We’ve been appointed as your nurses. Every day we’ll show the other girls how to change your nappies, clothe, feed, play with you, teach you nursery rhymes to sing to the girls, bath you and put you to bed. Won’t that be fun!”
“Your mummy wants you to take deportment classes, ballet, dance and singing so you’ll become a polite, dainty, elegant, prancing sissy princes……..!”
“And, even better, your feet will be moulded to only wear the highest of heels so you’ll be forced to take only dainty little steps…..”
“And dressmaking too so you can sew ribbons, bows and bells on the dresses you make….”
“And elocution lessons too to make your voice that of a high pitched, lisping sissy, singing and dancing to make everyone laugh at you. Can’t you just hear it?
Thee thellth thea thellth on the thea thore……”
Their words tumbled over each other in their rush to name all the treats in store for me.
Daisy was the sportier of the two with a strong arm for spanking. She pulled her wavy blonde hair up into a pony tail so it didn’t get in the way then she changed my nappy, delighting in rubbing me hard with a damp cloth.
“Ah! Look at her tiny pee-pee”, she laughed, “does Diddums like Daisy rubbing her, is she getting all hot and bothered?”
I squirmed but there was no escape as they’d strapped me to the changing table. Daisy pulled my legs up and over so my heels were beside my head and my bare bottom stuck up in the air. Without my nappy on, they took turns to spank me, turning my cheeks bright red. Unstrapping me they made stand in the corner.
Matron appeared at the door, whispering instructions to the girls. When I was allowed to turn round Matron had placed, what looked like, a long white plastic board with straps on to the changing table. Hurrying me back to the table I was quickly re-nappied. Straps from the board were pulled over my shoulders and the wide bottom half with padded edges pulled up between my legs forcing my thighs wide apart and all the straps clipped shut.
“There are combination locks on the straps so don’t think of getting out of it,” Matron cautioned.
They helped me up. “This is awful,” I gasped. I could only manage an ungainly wide-legged waddle and barely balance on my modest two inch heels, let alone anything higher.
“Crawl, like the little baby you are”, ordered Matron. The pain in my thighs eased as I did what she demanded, on all fours, spreading legs I soon got used to this new way of moving.
The bell rang for playtime. “Strap Sissy Poppy in the pink baby stroller and parade her around the playground for all the girls and staff to see.”
