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You know what you've done It’s the twelfth day and twelve-year-old Robbie still hadn’t acknowledged why he was back in nappies. ~~~~ He’d woken up on that first day of Summer Break hoping for an exciting time with all his mates only to be greeted by his father looking grim and holding a bundle of stuff in his hand. “Okay Robert,” his dad was not angry but never one to brook too much nonsense. Standing at six feet tall and having a fairly muscular physique from his job as a builder he looked most imposing. “School may be over but you’ve got a lot to learn so... it’s back into nappies for you. Go and get a shower and come straight back and I’ll see to you.” Robbie bristled at the idea, as if he’d let that happen. Besides, what could he have possibly done to be returned to wearing a nappy? It had to be a joke, right? Perhaps he was dreaming and had yet to wake up properly because this was just silly. However, why would he be dreaming of such a thing it...? He found his voice when he realised this wasn’t a dream at all. “But dad... WHY... I haven’t wet the bed or anything?” Robbie grinned but looked suspiciously at what was in his father’s hands. “Why don’t you think about the ‘why’ whilst having a shower, but don’t take too long.” Dad indicated for him to get up and get moving. “Dad this isn’t going to happen, I’m not a kid and you can’t make me... I’m not a bloody baby,” he added insolently. “Strike one, our little boy thinks he can swear with impunity...” Robbie had no idea what that word meant, “but he’s going to find that there are loads of things he thought... but thought wrong. Now, do as you’re told because this is going to be your underwear until we decide otherwise.” “I don’t think so...” The cocksure defiance was there but he was wondering... “There you go again, thinking and has been recently discovered... not your best feature Robbie. Because of all the things you’ve been up to over the past few months, thinking no one would get to know about, have come home to roost. Don’t think for a second you’re getting out of this because sonny, you aren’t.” The seriousness and directness of his dad’s words made him uncertain. Unsure of what a twelve-year-old could do but, and this is what mattered, he was twelve years old and therefore had... oh... but... There was also that guilt... what exactly was it they knew about that would bring about such a weird punishment? “Shower... now.” Dad pointed towards the bathroom. “But dad...” Robbie reluctantly did as he was told, easing his four feet six inch body from under the warm covers and then padding hesitantly to the bathroom in his creased t-shirt and boxers’ sensing it wasn’t the time to argue. Although slightly smaller than the others he was confident - he was after all in the school’s first eleven football team, and more recently mixing with his new tough friends, thought himself a toughie. However, when called out like this his swagger and self-confidence dropped. He needed more information and time to corral his excuses and arguments. ~ All through showering he wondered what dad knew he’d done. His grades weren’t too bad, granted there was always room for improvement. Although the Headmaster’s final comments on his end of term report card said that he ‘...didn’t try and easily distracted. A noticeable decline in ability and respect’ also didn’t help. He couldn’t remember being rude or cheeky to his parents but of course such occasions are done without much thought. He and his mates hadn’t been caught doing anything that might be regarded as foolish or criminal (although that hadn’t stopped them from doing such stuff). Mind you, he didn’t want a complete investigation into what he and those mates had been up to, that would open a huge can of worms. Then there was one ‘biggie’ which he knew they better not know about otherwise his life would be ruined - and he wasn’t sure if that was an over or understatement. Was there a difference between being cheeky and downright disrespectful? To a lad his age it was all part of growing up and having opinions, attitude and actions that might not correspond to what others might agree as normal. He wasn’t that bothered what anyone else thought... only himself... and his mate’s. The ‘biggie’ was BIG and it weighed heavily now his parent’s said they knew what he’d been up to. His mates had said that no one would ever know so it was just between them but still, as he showered, the guilt cut through his body like a cold, cold knife. ~ Recently at school he’d been hanging around with a little gang who were dangerously close to being young hoodlums and whom he was desperate to impress. He’d somehow found himself in with this particular ‘in’ crowd with ‘attitude’ and liked the infamy by association that went with it. He adopted quite a bit of their style – the way they dressed, the way they spoke, the off-handedness in any conversation. They were lippy, disrespectful, rebellious and took anything not nailed down (and a few things that were). He didn’t come from their rough, tough background so had a lot to prove to fit in. So far, he thought he had but now his parents had pulled him up, he wasn’t so certain it had been that good a move. Although in their company Robbie saw himself as a rebel, and someone who thought for himself, the hardened, uncaring streak that his new mates possessed really wasn’t part of his character. In fact, despite his attempts at ‘fitting in’ with his new ‘friends’, it was safe to say that none of what they’d done sat easily on his conscience so more or less knew that eventually he’d be brought to book. But what specifically was it his dad knew and what was it that made him think in terms of ‘nappies’ as a penalty? Under the warm plumes of water, he chuntered to himself on how he would never wear a nappy, nor would he let his father fulfil his threat. Despite his absolute intention of not giving in he felt an unease creep into his head -something he’d never felt before. Well, it had but his mates told him to “...forget it ever happened” but it was a hard secret to keep. That secret, that thing, only he and ‘the gang’ knew about and which they’d laughed off as “...a great stunt” was hanging heavily but he dare not confess to it... ever. He was at a loss to know why his father would want to impose such a juvenile punishment – one that had been threatened but never pursued before. Well, not exactly being put back into nappies but not able to go anywhere, have an early curfew or allowance stopped. All these penalties had been threatened in the past but never applied. So why now AND what had caused this dramatic shift that his dad intended to carry it out? What the HELL did dad know? Well, he decided, whatever he knew, or thought he knew, he wasn’t going to wear a nappy and there was nothing dad could do to make him. Of that he was certain. ~ Returning from the bathroom drying himself but confused as to why there was so much stuff spread out on his bed and why had his t-shirt and shorts he’d just slept in disappeared whilst he took the shower? Not only that but the very serious look on his father’s face indicated that any further argument could well be a huge mistake. Still, he’d decided, he certainly wasn’t going to wear a nappy and that was final. After all he was twelve, and twelve year-olds don’t wear nappies. He may be a little smaller than some his age but on the football pitch he was a little terrier and one of the best players. He was fairly good-looking (or so his mum thought) with longish brown hair and brown eyes. Despite his veneer of confidence he approached his father with more than a little trepidation. He noticed the thick fabric squares (more than one) which was a bit scary, the clear plastic pants like those he remembered his toddler cousin used to wear when visiting (he didn’t remember the days as a child he also used to wear them). Additionally, arranged on his dresser were a large canister of baby powder and several tubs of ointment. This was not looking like a simple threat, but he was adamant - no nappies. “Dad, what is it I’m supposed to have done?” He implored as innocently as possible, though dreading his father knowing some of the things he (and his mates) had been up to. “‘Supposed to have done’ ah! Acting innocent, eh? Well, that won’t work.” His dad fluffed out one of the large squares of white fabric and began to fold it. “Dad this isn’t fair, if I don’t know what I’ve done I can’t...” “Oh Robbie, Robbie, Robbie... I think you know only too well why this is happening and you’ve no one but yourself to blame.” Robbie mentally tallied some of those things and then physically shivered at the more ‘suspect’ offences, wondering if those were also what his father now knew about. However, he figured, if he knew about all of them, and the big one, he doubted if having to wear a nappy for a couple of days would be his punishment it would be much worse. Not knowing was making him less sure and put him at a huge disadvantage. He began to feel vulnerable, especially as his dad was looking more and more determined. “Dad this isn’t fair,” he was being as firm as he could, “I’m too old to wear a nappy and I’m not going to.” At least he was confident about that. “Really,” his dad looked a bit more than pissed off at his son’s denial, “well we can visit other, more embarrassing, public punishments if you wish. I don’t think you’ll like them, and, in the end, you’d still end up wearing a nappy... but if you insist.” The nappy was now folded, and his father indicated for him to lie out. “It’s up to you Robert, last chance, this now or something less easy, well for you anyway...” He’d never felt intimidated by his father before but there was something in his attitude that implied ‘mess with me at your peril’. He tried to ignore it but the thing was... a guilty conscience (in fact a very guilty conscience) was getting the better of Robbie - he was uncertain. He knew he should be making a huge scene and storming off or swearing like his mates and demanding the independence any twelve-year-old deserved and to stop being treated as a child. But he was caught off-guard - what might be ‘less easy?’ but when he thought about it, he and the gang had done some terrible stuff. The threat got the boy’s attention. His mind was full of appalling possibilities. He’d heard that some of his new friend’s parents weren’t afraid to take a belt to their wayward offspring and the idea of having a fiercely whipped arse had no appeal whatsoever. He dreaded pain, the few times growing up he’d been physically hurt made sure he stayed away from any confrontation where violence might happen. Even being in the gang he always maintained a distance between them and him... just in case. However, his mind conjured up a terrible situation. THWACK! (it was as if he could feel it) on his vulnerable bottom scared the hell out of him, not that his parents had ever said they’d do such a thing BUT, as his father was hinting, there’d be worse – public punishments - so that possibility flitted into his head and fuelled his worst case scenario. Some of the gang had intimated that physical punishment was almost a daily occurrence in their household and no amount of anti-smacking laws would change their parent’s attitude to discipline, even if it didn’t work. One lad had told him quite openly that his father had taken the belt to him after a visit from the police and he had to sit painfully at the dinner table on a hard chair as the family ate their meal. He’d shrugged when his mates told him what his dad had done was illegal, his reply, so was what he’d done so...? ~ Thoughts of rebellion, of simply refusing, of acting out and not giving a damn rippled through his mind. He was twelve and, as he kept saying to himself, twelve-year-old's do NOT wear nappies or get put in them either. This hadn’t happened to any of his friends, so he was certain it wasn’t going to happen to him. But a chilling other thought entered his head – what if it happened to his mates all the time, except, he didn’t know about it? ‘THWACK’ that thought triggered a fear he didn’t know he had. A catalogue of harsh and terrible punishments filled his brain and made him shudder in indecision. How could he rebel or even argue if that kind of violence was delivered to his bare bottom. What if, once delivered it became a regular event? What if...? However, he was sure if any of his mates had suffered from any embarrassing punishments he’d know about it. BUT, what if, they were so ashamed it was something no one ever talked about? Being strapped was something you could talk about but being forced to wear a nappy, well, that was just too weird and embarrassing. What if there were loads of kids, teenage kids, being made to wear some form of padding as an alternative to receiving a beating and it was simply something that no one ever spoke about? It was as if some strange influence had got into his head and all he could mentally experience was the pain that people were inflicting on him. In his imagination it wasn’t just his parents, in fact they were not to be seen, but stranger after stranger piling in and walloping him for having done what he’d done. Aarrggg, it was all too much. Robbie needed to get rid of these scary thoughts, but how? ~ His recent truculent nature was suddenly suffering from uncertainty and for the first time in quite some time Robbie was at a loss of what to do. He knew he should be making a scene, denying everything, call his parent’s names and swear the house down, except he didn’t, he was conflicted. The part that knew he’d done wrong, even if he wasn’t sure which ‘wrong’ they knew about - was edging over the part demanding he fight back. Basically, he was a good boy gone rogue, but now he was held to account, the roguish element was undeniably slipping away. What if... yes, again, what if...? The idea that there was a secret world of punishment going on where everyone involved was so ashamed of mentioning it - it had become THE way of dealing with disrespectful, out-of-control and threatening youths. Although this thought didn’t make much sense it was now imbedded in his brain and had somehow settled as an actual punishment that happened, and worse still, happen to him. Psychologically he could see the swish of the belt through the air and the sickening ‘THWACK’ as it met its target. He could hear his screams; he could feel his pain - he definitely didn’t want that to happen to him. But would a nappy be better than the strap? Would it be more effective than actual physical punishment? He was sure no kid his age would admit to such a thing... thus ensuring the secret would remain just that... a secret. He trembled at the thought, the revolt, was this something he’d be able to rebel against? His parents were ‘nice’ people, surely, they wouldn’t want to embarrass him but still, if they not only insisted but the penalties for not doing so were worse, would it then be the secret all threatened teens kept... including him? SWISH, THWACK - “Ooooowwwww” His desperate cry of sudden and direct pain may have been bouncing about in his head, but the reality now seemed an option. He was nervously sweating - not just at this possibility but the ensuing probability. ~ Robert stood there thinking just what he had done and dad knew about that he could apologise for and escape this ridiculous childish sentence. For the first time ever he felt intimidated by his father. He was in comparison quite small for his age but until that moment had never thought about it. However, at that moment, he felt tiny and timid. He tried to continue to dry himself to delay whatever was about to happen. Try as he might he couldn’t think of anything, well anything he would openly confess to. There was ‘cheeking’ Mrs Oldershaw. There was a chance he knew about bunking off the last couple of periods at school but thought that wasn’t much of a crime. His part in a bit of schoolboy bullying, which didn’t sit well with him but nonetheless he’d been there. Then of course it was possible that the incident in the shop in town might have reached dad’s ears. That was where he and his mates wandered in and whilst the cashier was kept busy, he and a chum helped themselves to various snacks and booze (and this hadn’t been the first time or the first shop to receive the gang’s attention). However, he’d never admit to that, unless they had CCTV and could prove it. When he thought about it there were quite a number of ‘little’ things that his father could be angry about but until he had a better idea perhaps wearing a nappy for a day or two might be the easiest way out of whatever trouble he was in. The main thing was, as long as they didn’t know about his serious ‘crime’, which he hoped to take to the grave, then all might just be forgotten. He suddenly decided it was a no-brainer, if he was going to be punished harshly AND still end up wearing a nappy, then he might as well jump straight to that and avoid any painful attention. “Okay,” seeing this as a possible way out he reluctantly agreed. “Very sensible, now, let’s get these on you,” he held up the white fabric triangle, “and then the... hmmmm... on second thoughts... Claire... can you come in here please?” “Yes dear,” his wife appeared at the bedroom door carrying what looked like a supply of new towels. Robbie was confused as to why mum would be just hanging around his bedroom like that. “Do I need to put extra padding in?” Dad looked a little confused at the extra items that were next to the fabric squares on the bed. “Of course love, but don’t forget the barrier cream first, make it thick and sure it’s spread everywhere, we don’t want our Robbie to get a rash now do we?” She smiled benevolently at her son. “Yes, well I had that covered...” her hubby said a bit annoyed because he hadn’t asked for that instruction. Robbie lay there, towel in hand and all but naked wondering why they were arguing over this but of course they weren’t. This was more ‘theatre’ for his benefit. They were making sure he knew this was a huge deal that they were taking seriously. So, although he was being punished for his misdemeanours, they were still going to take good care of him. Mum busied herself clearing out his underwear drawer, bagging up underpants, boxers and trunks and replacing those items with this fresh ‘laundry’. She then dug deep into another bag and pushed unopened packs of plastic pants in beside the pile of new fleecy terry nappies. Finally, she pulled nappy pins from her pocket and left them in a little dish next to the baby powder. Her boy was going to be well-cared for, the pins had white plastic ducky safety covers. She then looked on in a supervisory capacity as hubby started the nappying process. Meanwhile, a nervous and confused Robbie turned beet red under scrutiny from both parents. It was scary that they seemed to think this was perfectly acceptable behaviour. “You’ll need to use a booster pad and nappy liner before you pin it all together, it will make cleaning him up after any little accidents that much easier.” Claire added as she passed her hubby the items and a couple of safety pins. “WHAT?” Robbie all but screamed and clamping a hand over his naked genitals. “What, what?” his dad replied as he smacked his hand away, whilst inserting the things his wife had just suggested and pulling the multi-layered fabric up between the boy’s legs. “I’m not going to shit in a nappy... I... errrrr....” His dad gave him a second quick slap to his naked thigh “Language Robert, I’ll not tell you again.” Although the slaps didn’t hurt there seemed to be a warning that had to be taken seriously. Was this just the start of a much more violent regime? It scared him to think that might be the case. However, the material felt really thick as it was pulled up and left him unsure if he’d be able to cope with such an item wrapped around his genitals. Despite a half-hearted struggle dad pinned the thick, soft fabric tightly around his son’s wriggling waist. “Dad please,” he begged, “I can’t be seen wearing a nappy I’m a grown...” “Of course, you can sweetheart” Mum intervened as she saw the first tears begin to form in the corner of his eyes. “You’ll be wearing one from now on or until we see a huge improvement in your behaviour and an actual understanding of what you’ve been up to... and more especially... why we think this is necessary.” Her smile was benign but firm as she admired her hubby’s work. Her voice was soothing even if the message was chilling. Meanwhile, she flapped out a pair of smooth, clear plastic pants. ~ Mr and Mrs Davison had decided that their only son Robert (Robbie) was at an age where hormones and attitude kick in. They knew he was becoming, well, a teenager, but there’d been a very noticeable deterioration in his behaviour both at home and in school for almost a year. They knew he was part of a group that had been ‘disruptive’ in class and no doubt had been equally annoying at all other times. They suspected he’d been up to all manner of stupid, possibly illicit and undoubtedly antisocial activities... even if they didn’t know exactly what all of them were. Twelve years old and at that age, when a firm hand can be easily swatted away, where a parent’s authority has begun to diminish greatly and a time where his friends and what they say (and incite) matter more than anything else, meant something needed to be done. It is most parents worry that their offspring might go down a road of wrong choices: criminal, anti-social or any manner of other unacceptable activities. Thomas and Claire Davison were determined that if they got in first, made him guilty about what he thought they might know, then they stood a chance of keeping their son as they wanted him. “Keep him guessing,” that had been the idea, to not agree or disclose exactly what it was they knew. That way, and hoping they knew their son, he’d be on the defensive, anxious and, they hoped, so unsettled that he would comply, albeit reluctantly, to their decisions. Up until relatively recently Robert had always been a good boy, not perfect, but good. However, reports from school, neighbours and homelife (attitude) had seen a complete turnabout that had made him become – unpleasant. This was a side that Claire in particular didn’t want to see develop, so, with the agreement of hubby, set about coming up with something that would change him back to the likeable little scamp he used to be. Of course, they ran the risk that whatever they said or did might rebound but thought, for the sake of their only son, they had to try. Although they’d planned their action, it was still an ad hoc situation as they didn’t know what reaction they’d get. They had no idea that the spontaneous threat of ‘something worse’ had already had such an effect so he was at present cowed and scared of speaking up too much. As their action continued Robert’s worry about this warning and what he had done became a bonus (although they were unaware of it), to keep him where they wanted him - nervous of terrible (but undisclosed) retribution. Once the course of action was decided, they hoped that guilt, terror of discovery and an agenda where all choices were made for him (but in a caring, loving way) made his involvement unequivocal. Any time he questioned them about why they were doing this they simply put it back to him that he knew why and until he recognised and admitted his own complicity in this punishment then the penalty would continue. This was infuriating for him because he had no idea exactly what it all meant apart from the fact, he would be wearing a nappy for a while. How or why taking him back to wearing a nappy had come up in discussions neither was sure. Maybe Claire had read an article about kids not acting their age and this had been deemed a suitable punishment. However, even if she hadn’t read about such a reaction, she fondly remembered those happy nappy times when he was a toddler, that idea stuck so thought it worth a try. They also believed that by being supportive of his nappy wearing, just as they were when a child, and praising him each time he used it, they could convince him it was less of a punishment and simply a reminder. ~ Mastigophobia: irrational fear of punishment. No one knew the word, no one knew where this sensible phobia had come from, but it had taken up residency in Robbie’s subconscious. The nappy, though appalling for a lad his age, was at least bearable... well maybe. ~ tbc ~

chapter 1 Paul P.O.V Hi there! My name is Paul and I’m 7 years old! I live in a fun city called Tamir, which is in a place called Goran. Today is super-duper exciting because Sister Rose told me I’m going to have a new family! Yay! My new mommy is named Barbara, and she’s coming to take me home soon. To get me all ready, Sister Lucy gave me a bubbly bath, which I really love! Then she dressed me in a pull-up and a cool white t-shirt with Goofy on it, who is my most favorite cartoon buddy! After that, she gave me my pacifier and took me to a big room filled with toys. She said I should wait there, and I did! I grabbed some blocks and sat down to play, while Sister Lucy knelt beside me to join in the fun. I really like Sister Lucy; she’s super nice and we have a blast together! We played for a long time, and then Sister Rose came in and said there were two people who wanted to meet me. The first one is a tall lady, kind of like Sister Lucy, with long blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and a smile that makes me feel all warm inside. She’s wearing a pretty purple top and a long skirt. The other one is a girl who is my age but taller! She has blonde hair in two bouncy pigtails, green eyes, and she’s wearing red overalls with a white shirt. “Hi Paul! I’m Barbara and this is Zoe!” She points to the tall girl who is so big I can almost touch her chest! “Do you want to come home with us?” she asks with a big happy smile. I nod my head really fast! “Okay, now grab your things!” Then she tells Zoe to come with me, and the little girl takes my hand and follows me while I hear Sister Rose and Barbara chatting. I go with my new sister to the bedroom where there are three other kids, and I grab my stuffed panda named "Poe," hugging him tight. Then, holding Zoe’s hand, we go back to Sister Rose’s office. "Did you grab all your stuff?" Barb… Mom, asks in a super nice voice as I walk over and she scoops me up! She's so tall, it feels like she could reach the fluffy clouds! With Poe cuddled in my arms, we wave goodbye to my friends at the orphanage. Mom helps me into her big, shiny car, puts me in my cozy car seat, and fastens the buckle nice and snug! I make a grumpy face because I really don’t wanna be there! So Zoe grabs Poe and starts making him chat. "Why are you making that face?" my friend asks me. "Because I don’t wanna sit in the car seat!" I say, crossing my arms like a tiny troublemaker. "But nice kids sit in the car seat!" says my friend who is perched on my sister's lap. "Why?" I ask, looking at my sister who is pretending to look out the window. "Because if something goes boom, you might get hurt! And you don’t wanna get hurt, do you?" my friend asks me. "No!" I shout. "Then be a good kid and stay in the car seat!" says my friend. "Okay! But it’s not fair!" I say as I snuggle into the car seat and watch my mom drive.

Hello. after some time, I begin another role play. I hope someone come to play with me. After the war of sexes, Lucas was one of the scant males that weren’t been jailed after the men’s defeat. However, despite at the time of the war he was only ten years old, he had saved a high officer of the female army’s life, for which he was been rewarded personally by the new amazonian confederation president. However, the war didn’t finish to hurt him: The chemical weapons used by the female army had made him sick with cancer and the only therapy that could have saved his life was too expensive for him. After the end of the war, all better-payed jobs have been forbidden, they can play only the most tiring and less-paid jobs. Lucas couldn’t play that job because of his serious health conditions, then he would never have the money to pay for treatment. For this reason, he tried to rob a bank, though with only a toy gun: he didn’t want to hurt anyone after all. Now he was in front of the judge a forty years old woman who looked at him with a lot of disapproval “Then young man I see that you tried to rob a bank with a toy gun. It's not a very common thing!” “I didn’t want hurt…” he said before inspiring from his inhalator “anyone”. The tumor had destroyed the 50% of his lungs and he had a lot of difficulty in breathing “What did you want to do with that money?” the judge asks the young man “I wanted to pay a nanomachines therapy” he explained to the judge before inspiring from the inhalator again “to cure my cancer” he explained to the woman in front of him, “I thought for that money’s owners one or two hundreds of thousands of credits less wouldn’t do any difference, while for me it would safe my life” he explained before cough in a brown handkerchief for his dry blood “OK! I understand the situation!” the judge said “I admit to finding myself in a deeply embarrassing situation. In light of the new elements and considering that in this case we can’t talk about the armed robbery but interruption of public service” the old woman said “the penalty for this infringement is a fine of 500 credits. Can you pay for it?” “No, I can’t” Lucas answered to the judge before inspiring by the inhalator “OK! Then I condemn you to the reborn!” the woman said beating the gavel “after the treatment, you will be entrusted to the orphanage at S. Elisabeth convent. I admit to feeling relieved to issue this sentence; my conscience would forbid me to give you a more severe punishment. Good luck young boy!” (I would like play Lucas) Three weeks passed since he has been entrusted to S. Elisabeth orphanage. The Nanomachines operation succeeded, and though his hair wasn’t still ground back and sometimes he needed the inhalator, in that period he felt very better, so much that he had regained some kilos too. He was 110 cm tall, very low than before but it wasn’t a problem for him. He stayed sat down on sister Kate’s knees, wearing only a light blue tank top, listening to the sister who read a book for children for him, when sister Amelia came to pick him up kissing his check: “Come on! Let's go to know your new mom!” she said going to her office. (Pleas contact me only if you're really interested)

Six weeks were spent since Lucas, 8 years old, was been introduced in his new adoptive family and many thing was going good his new mommy was fantastic. But at school the things weren’t going good at school: He was having difficulty in attending the lessons, and he had often problems with bullies. But this was very comprehensible since he had a very childish behavior. He was a very he was a fairly short and thin child, with green eyes and black and short eyes. Now he stood sat down on a chair in front of the principal office, because he had rowed with an older student who had bullied him and to defend himself he bitted him until he bleeds. He knew that his mommy would scolded him and he feared that his mom would have abandoned him at the institute like his natural mother did, then he was sighing while he waited that his mother come to take him, since the principal had decided to suspend him from school for at least a week. When his mother arrived at school he was sucking hi thumb trying to calm down.

The war of sexes ended two years ago when Leonard moved in with his sister. Even during the war he never hurt anyone because he had always believed that no problem would be solved by violence. He was a convinced pacifist. For this reason he never had any problems at the end of the war and since he never committed a war crime, the winners offered him to live in peace with his sister on condition that he changed sex and respected the new laws. He was not dissatisfied with the change because, although his family had never understood him and had never allowed him to live this side of his life, he was always attracted by his infantilism before the war, so now he could live his life AB with an alibi. His name was now Eleanor Knight and he lived with his sister in their new home. She was 52 inches tall and had very dark skin, black and curly hair (which she always keeps in twin tails) and two brown eyes. She was usually a whining little girl, so she was often teased by her sister but never with malice. It was morning when her sister came to her room where she slept with a very wet diaper and sucked her thumb.

version reviewed by HiperShark Part One Chapter 1: The Arrival Poor Jonathan didn’t know what awaited him when he arrived in front of Judge Scott. He had committed a robbery and it wasn’t the first time he stole some food from a shop. Life was very difficult on the street. It wasn’t the first time he was caught, but he knew that the penalty wouldn’t be too serious, the fact that he was underage would work to his favor. “In the worst case I’ll spend some night’s in the cell where I will have a clean bed and some hot meal.” he thought. He was an optimist. “Jonathan Reyes, accused of robbery in a food store. How do you plead?” asked the Judge. “Guilty.” Jonathan answered. The Judge made eye contact with a very severe look “In your file it’s written that your are eighteen.” “Yes sir!” Jonathan said humbly. “Though there are four condemnations for robbery against you. What do you say in your defence?” In that moment the boy’s optimism dissolved like salt in a glass of water. “Ehm…!” Jonathan spouted as he began to sweat conspicuously. “Perhaps you thought there wouldn’t be consequences to your actions” roared the Judge. “Well you got it wrong young man! I condemn you to three regression cycles from three to five years. Enjoy your holiday to Camp Nursery!” The sentence left the boy without words. Two days later he found himself on a bus travelling to Camp Nursery with other eleven teenagers. In the seat next to him there was a girl. “Hello what is your name? And why are you here?” asked the girl. “My name is Jonathan.” Answered the boy “I’m here for robbery, you?” “My name is Patricia.” Answered the girl. “I’m here for falsification of documents. Did Judge Scott send you here?” “Yes! How do you know?” Asked the boy. “He sent here me too” answered the girl “It seems that he sends everyone underage who comes into his courtroom.” After arriving at their destination they were let off the bus and welcomed by a woman who appeared be about thirty years old. She was tall and handsome and had long blonde hair that was bound in a french braid that descended along her right shoulder. She wore an elegant dress, and behind her there were fifteen other women dressed up like nannies. “Welcome to Camp Nursery my little ones. My name is Stephanie but you can call me Aunty Steph. I am the fifth director of this re-education center and I have administered it for four years. But getting to the point, I’d like to tell you the history of this place. Follow me please!” “Who knows how long the speech has been prepared for” Patricia said to Jonathan in a low voice. “Camp Nursery was open in 1920 by Marcus Sloan, Nobel prize for medicine. He discovered a way to make rejuvenate human body between what is called ‘The Sloan Method’. The method consists of the utilization of a serum, whose formula is secret, that it’s injected in the subject who is beamed with infrared ray. This leads to rejuvenation of the subject subjected to treatment. Adjusting the intensity of radiation it’s possible adjust the speed of regression. This procedure doesn’t have negative effects in humans and in theory it can be replayed endlessly without any risk” she said smiling “The purpose of this place is re-educate difficult teenagers, starting from the period in which they are more easy to manage, that is the first childhood.” While they appreciated a huge building, Aunty Steph guided the group through the entrance door, beyond which there was a big room. “Good my little ones! Beyond this door there are Sloan’s regressors,” she said with a big smile. “Now I will explain you the rules of this place, which are few and very simple: N. 1: You will obey any adult’s order N. 2: Don’t talk back to an adult N. 3: No brawls or violence for any reason N. 4 An adults decision is always final without discussion If you break any rules you will be punished. The rest will be explained later. Is everything clear or are there any questions?” A girl raised her hand. “Tell me honey!” said Aunty Steph. “You said that the formula of serum is secret” said the girl “But what happens if someone has an allergic reaction?” “A more than legitimate question!” said Aunty Steph. “But don’t worry! The serum is produced so so that an allergic is almost impossible. Any other questions?” Nobody asked anything. “Very good” she said satisfied. “We have some some paper coat’s, you have to undress and wear only that” she said while two young ladies rolled out a big cloth to act as a screen. Jonathan did what he was told after one of the girls gave him a paper coat. After that the screen was removed and the group was asked to get in line. Then they received an injection in the arm with an automatic syringe. “Now we go to the regressor room” Aunty Steph said while she opened a door. As they entered the room, the group saw strange machinery that look like a tanning bed. “Now when I call your name, step forward and lay down on the bed.” Aunty Steph said. “The first is Adams Richard, four cycles from two to five years. Come on!” A thin boy with red and ruffled hair shyly approached the bed. “Courage champion!” Aunty Steph urged him with a smile. “Will it hurt?” Asked the boy. “Usually the process isn’t painful” answered Aunty Steph. “Rather, it’s said that it’s like a strange tingling” Aunty Steph answered in a reassuring tone. Richard laid down on the bed that was closed and one of the girls began to type something on a computer, and when she pressed a button the machinery started. A red gleam radiated from inside of machinery for five or six minutes until it turned off, and one of the girls dressed as a nurse opened the bed and took an arm of a child who could not have been more than two years old. She brought him on a changing table next the machine, where she removed the paper coat and put him a diaper. Jonathan was shocked by the scene. “Very good!” Aunty Steph said. “Let’s continue with the next one. Alcott Patricia three cycles from three to five years.” The girl was petrified, Aunty Steph took her by the hand and lead her up to the machinery and kindly made her lie down on it. Then she closed the machinery and gave the order to start it, and when this turned off there was the same scene that repeated until it was Jonathan's turn. Jonathan was very scared at the idea of returning to a little child. He hadn’t had a beautiful childhood and the idea to relieve that was very scary for him. “So young man!” said Aunty Steph a little impatient. It didn’t take long for the nurse to take the boy by weight and put him in the machinery despite his protests, even because he weren’t robust. The machinery was started and the boy felt a strange tingling followed by a strong nausea. When the bed was opened, and the woman dressed as a nurse went to take him he threw up. “Oh blimey!” exclaimed the woman “Don’t worry sometimes it happens” she reassured him with a smile. “Breathe slowly and you will feel better!” When the boy began to feel better, the nurse brought him to the table to put him a diaper. When the last of the group was regressed Aunty Steph started speaking again.“Good my little ones!” Now she could say it for sure “Now I explained to you how our program works. You will now be divided into four groups of three and taken into the custody of a nanny. She will take care of you completely, from feeding to change diapers. You will wear diapers 24 hours a day and you aren’t allowed to remove them for any reason. Only an adult can do it and at their discretion. If you try to remove it you will be punished. Now we will give you a bracelet” she said while two nurses passed in front of them. One of them had a tray upon which there were toddler sized blue and pink bracelets. “It contains two microchips, one is a GPS that will allow us to know where you are only moment, don’t try to remove that. If you do an alarm will sound and you will be punished; the other chip serves to collect data related to your health condition, your evaluation and any disciplinary measures that have had to be taken. Are there any questions?” One of the toddlers raised their hand. “Two questions, how are the groups decided? And can I go to bathroom? I have to pee.” Aunty Steph answered “The groups are decided by chance. Your name will be put in an envelope and drawn by lot. Regarding the second question the potty is not allowed for you. Use the diaper!” the little boy blushed after Aunty Steph answered. “Good! Now let’s proceed.” Group 1: Nanny Alexandra Children: Lisa Clark Jim Lee Ronald Wood She went on like this until the last group: Nanny Matilde Children: Jonathan Reyes Patricia Austin Samuel Castillo The three children approached a woman with long black hair cut into a bob. She had tanned skin, grey eyes and a very sweet smile. “Very good my little ones, today is your first day, I am going to leave you to get to know your nannies better, your activities begin tomorrow. Bye bye” said Aunty Steph taking leave.

It was a night like others at Tokyo and like usual Usagi Tsukino was gone out to fight the usual bad monster who tried to attack the city. She runned a lot of to reach the attacked place and once she was there, with some breathlessness she recited her presentetion formula. But, unfortunately, she didn’t noticed that Chibiusa had secretly followed her because she wanted so much watch the young warrior girl fight.