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Curio
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The oil slowly glops down the tube until it reaches our mouths, we gag as it hits our tongue. The pacifier/gags prevent us from spitting it out and we have no choice but to gulp down the foul tasting liquid, our tummies grumbling as we do. The flow stops after a few minutes and some robotic hands unclip the gags, with the equipment withdrawing into the ceiling, leaving us along in a darkened nursery, strapped into cribs with churning tummies and full nappies.
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"It's stuff that 'keeps you regular'." I reply, moments before the oil gloops its way down the tube.
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(Robot hearing picks up everrrrything) A pair of clear tubes descend from the ceiling, connected to what look like pacifiers. The nanny forces them into our mouths and ties them behind our heads so we can't spit them out. "Some castor oil will help flush out any bad behaviour," she says, before turning to leave. "Night night babies, remember, behave."
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"Mmmghg!" I moan around the pacifier as we pass our car, still sitting where we left it last night.
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I glare at you as the nanny seems to start thinking. "You just had to say something, didn't you."
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"No," replied the nanny sternly. "Babies that don't behave don't get fresh nappies." We are released from the changing table and the arms immediately cart us over to the cribs. As soon as we touch the mattress, our wrists and ankles are secured in place. "You will be changed in the morning, hopefully you will have learned your lesson."
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Chris does the same, ignoring the strange taste of the pacifier as it was preferable to a spanking. "Okay babies, I think you need some time outside."
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I groan as the dam finally bursts and I fill my diaper as well, the garment drooping as it happens. With nothing else to do we just sit there as the mess sticks to our butts. The nanny stands up. "I think a night in messy diapers should teach the babies to behave."
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The nanny stands nearby, watching we we wiggle and squirm in nothing but nappies and plastic pants. Slowly coming over, she places a hand on our swollen bellies and presses down. "Perhaps babies need a little bit of a hand." I grunt and groan as the pressure builds and I try to hold it in, but its just too much.
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"You'll be finding that out soon, baby," replies the nanny, as the nozzles withdraw from our backsides. By now our tummies have swollen as a result of the enema, the water sloshing about in our insides.
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"Urrrrg..." I groan in response as the water fill my bowels. I try to clench my cheeks to stop the water but it doesn't work and it keeps flowing. I can feel my gut swelling and the water churning inside. The nanny watches us both as the enema is administered, the hands prepared for the next stage.
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"No please, I don't want a messy nappy!" I cry, but the nanny is having none of our protests. She takes a jar of Vaseline and lubes up the nozzles before they move in. Pressing against our rear entrances we feel them push inside before water starts gushing in. We squirm and struggle on the changing table at the sensation.
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We both squirm and kick our feet as the nanny rains blow after blow onto our bottoms, quickly turning them cherry red. She doesn't stop until the flesh glows, but as she releases us, the arms grab us both. Struggling in their grasp, we are helpless as they drop us onto the changing table on all fours, our reddened behinds in the air. The nanny approaches as the House drops two hoses from the ceiling. "Maybe babies will feel like behaving after a good cleanout."
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The nanny steps up to you and glares. "You should have thought of the consequences before you got out of bed." She then goes over to a nearby chair and sits down, while the arms jerk back to life. They strip us out of our pyjamas and tear off our nappies before depositing us both in the nanny's lap. She holds us in place with one arm, while the arms hand her a wooden hairbrush.
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"Aww did baby fall down?" coo's the robot. Our heads snap up at its voice, neither of us heard it approach. It patted Coles head condescendingly. "Good babies suck on their paci's, bad babies get spanked, do you understand?"
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As you go to leave, I rush forwards and begin frantically searching for something that might have the password, tearing through old books and desk drawers as fast as I can. However, before either of us can find anything, robotic arms emerge from the ceiling and grab us both in an iron grip. They carry us back to the nursery, where the nanny is waiting. "Naughty babies shouldn't leave their cribs," she says, sternly. "Or go into areas they shouldn't. I think you both need to be taught a lesson."
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(I think we could still have some fun,
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Chris looks nervously up at the cameras as he crawls over to Cole, the teddy firmly clutched in his mittened hands.
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Chris pawed at the pacifier, but the onesie included mittens so his hands were useless. Going back over to the soft toys, he grabbed the teddy bear that hid the screwdriver before crawling over to Cole.
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(Do you want to get caught?) I spot it as well, the button is in a control room of some kind. Banks of old computers line the walls, and a console takes up the front space. Above it are TV screen showing different rooms in the House, including the living room where the robot family stand in charging docks.
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This changing table was much like the bath as it too had robotic hands attached to it. As soon as the boys naked bodies touched the surface the machine sprang into action. A set of hands grabbed their wrists while another pressed down on their chests, keeping them in place as they struggled to get free. Another set their grabbed their ankles and lifted up their legs so a sprayer could apply a fresh layer of baby oil to their behinds.
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I manage to walk/waddle towards the service entrance for the nursery. Reaching the door, I manage to twist the knob and push it open, revealing a dimly lit utility corridor. "Did way," I whisper. "Dere must be an off button somewhere."
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It's the same washtub they saw before, with all the robotic hands attached to the bowl. As soon as they touch the warm water, the hands set to work with an array of sponges, soaps, towels and brushes. Gloved hands grabbed their wrists and held up their arms so soapy sponges could clean their armpits, while another set of arms squirted some baby shampoo into their hair and worked it into a lather. Meanwhile, more hands washed their bodies and butts, making sure to thoroughly clean every inch of the two teens.
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Turning sideways, I manage to squeeze my body through the gap, although it takes a bit more effort to get my padded butt through the bars. Dropping to the floor, I listen for any indication that I was heard, but the House is silent. "I tink dere asweep...charging...whatevwer they do. Come on!"
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Approaching the machine that original diapered the two teens. The robot sat them on the conveyor belt once again. "I think the babies need a good clean to star their day," it said, wirelessly sending commands to the machine. A sign that read 'BATH TIME' was illuminated above the belt.
