Rehabilitating Cathy

[fyunch]

Rehabilitating Cathy - Part 1

Packed up

The appointed day arrived. Cathy's transfer to the Meridon Prison was this morning. The van was due to pick her up at 10AM. She hadn't slept much the night before, wakening after only a couple of hours of sleep and tossing and turning the rest of the night. Breakfast in the mess hall with her regular crew was an out-of-body experience. She knew that she'd likely never see any of them again.

She sat down with Amelia at the usual table. She wasn't hungry. Amelia addressed her kindly.

"Eat your breakfast, girl. You don't know when you'll get a meal next or what it'll be like."

"I'm not very hungry. I didn't sleep much last night and now my stomach feels upset."

"Drink your juice. That will make you feel better."

Cathy sipped the apple juice.

"You're right. I'm not hungry, but I'm definitely thirsty."

She drank the rest of it down.

"Here, I'll trade you my juice for your bacon. Try to eat some of your oatmeal. That stuff always calms my stomach down when I've got the quivers."

"I can't wait to go! My mom and sisters will be able to visit me a lot more often. And Brad will be allowed to visit me, too!"

"OK, OK. Keep your pants dry, girl. You'll be there soon enough."

After breakfast a matron took Cathy back to her cell alone while the rest of the girls went off to their regular morning routines, some to class and some to the various workshops. In her cell on top of her bunk was a cardboard box. Hanging on from her clothes hook on the wall was a cotton shift. It had wide vertical pink and white stripes. It looked a bit big to Cathy.

"Pack whatever you want to take with you in the box," said the matron. "You only get the one box, so anything that doesn't fit you'll have to give to someone here or throw away."

"I don't have much stuff. I don't think I'll have a problem."

"You'd be surprised. You accumulate a lot of junk in a big hurry."

"Whatever. I don't really care."

"When you're done packing, take off all of your clothes and dump them in your pail. Put on that dress there. The Meridon folks sent it to us. It's how they want you dressed for the trip."

"OK."

"I'll come get you in about half an hour. The van called in a while ago and said that they'd be here on time."

Cathy went through her meager stash of belongings and packed the cardboard box. The boom box was too big.

I'll leave that for Amelia, she thought. She'll like that.

Cathy wrote a note to Amelia and put it and the boom box and Amelia's favorite CDs on her bunk where she'd find them that afternoon.

She closed the box carried it to the cell door. Then Cathy stripped off her baggy shirt and pants. She took the hanger with the shift on it down from the hook and looked it over. There was a cotton brassiere hanging from the crossbar of the hanger but no panties.

I guess the panties fell off somewhere along the way, Cathy thought. I'm sure this joint won't give a damn if I take one of their pairs with me. They're certainly nothing to write home about.

She took off her bra and put the new one on. Then she pulled the shift over her head and settled it on her shoulders. The top wasn't too bad, but from the waist downward it was too loose and floppy. And the skirt was far too short for Cathy's comfort, stopping above mid-thigh.

She took the discarded clothing over to her cleaning pail and piled them in. She looked at the clock. Five minutes to go. Cathy felt like she had to pee, but when she sat down on the toilet she found that she was too nervous to produce. She pulled her panties back up and settled the skirt back around her hips. She sat down on her bunk and waited.

Cathy heard the matron and another woman coming down the long echoing corridor long before they arrived. She couldn't make out what they were saying, but she could tell that the other woman, probably the guard from Meridon sent to transport her, was doing most of the talking.

"Here is Cathy Philips," said the matron. "Cathy, this is Miss Martinez from Meridon. She's taking you today."

"Glad to meet you," said Cathy. The polite formula sounded silly in the prison context. What is the proper etiquette on being introduced to a new prison guard, Cathy wondered.

Martinez was a middle aged woman who could have been someone's maiden aunt. She was plump and comfortable looking, certainly not Cathy's idea of a prison guard. She picked up the cardboard box and hefted it, nodding not approval but acceptance of its weight. She carried a canvas briefcase of some size, like a very large handbag, on a wide strap over her shoulder. She set it down on the bunk and unstrapped the flap.

"Just for the record," said Miss Martinez, "are you Catherine Philips?"

"I am," said Cathy.

"Good," said Miss Martinez. "I have here an identification necklace that I will put around your neck and seal. It will ensure that no mistakes are made."

Miss Martinez produced what looked like a long strip of white ribbon. She showed it to Cathy, who read her own name on it, a six-digit identification number, the name of Meridon Prison, and a toll-free telephone number. Miss Martinez reached behind Cathy's neck and wrapped the ribbon around. She removed a piece of white paper and then stuck one end to the other. She tugged experimentally on the ribbon to verify its security.

"Cathy," she said, "you understand that in the interests of security you have to be secured for the duration of the transfer, don't you?"

"Um. I hadn't thought about it, but yeah, I'm not surprised."

"Good," Martinez said, "then we can get this taken care of and be on our way quickly. You're the first pickup I have today, but after here we have four other girls to get. It will be a long day. Turn around, dear, and clasp your hands behind your back. Hold your left elbow in your right hand and your right elbow with your left hand. That's good. No, turn this hand around here a bit."

Martinez then wrapped a padded cloth apparatus of some sort around her paired forearms. She tightened several straps which pressed Cathy's arms together firmly but not uncomfortably. Miss Martinez then wrapped the padded material around the upper part of Cathy's arm and tightened some Velcro straps. Cathy wouldn't be able to pull her elbows away from one another and slide them out of the tube that captured her arms.

Having her arms pressed behind her straightened her posture and pushed her breasts out. Cathy caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and thought, I should hold my shoulders back like this all the time. I'd drive Brad mad.

"Is that comfortable, dear? It doesn't hurt, does it? Does it press or rub anywhere?"

Cathy flexed her torso and wriggled her arms about, feeling for friction or pressure.

"It's OK, Miss Martinez. It doesn't hurt anywhere."

"Good." she said from behind Cathy. "Just stay put for a second."

Cathy heard the clinking of the metal buckles on Miss Martinez' satchel as she rummaged for something in it.

"Cathy," said Miss Martinez, "this next step will seem a little strange to you. I don't have any choice in this matter. Meridon's rules about transportation of prisoners are very precise. Would you open your mouth, please, dear?"

Cathy was astonished. Open her mouth?

"Huh?" was all she could manage.

"Open your mouth, dear."

Cathy's desire to be closer to home struggled briefly with her natural caution. Home won. She opened her mouth.

Miss Martinez stepped forward quickly and lowered a jumble of leather over her head and quickly popped a largeish wad of rubbery plastic into her mouth. As her new jailor pulled straps across her cheeks, the matron stepped forward and lifted Cathy's long hair from her shoulders so that Miss Martinez could seat the straps snugly at the nape of Cathy's neck.

Cathy felt Miss Martinez tighten the buckles at the back of ner neck. She experimented gingerly with the object that so completely occupied her mouth. It was shaped like a large relatively stiff tongue pointing backward. The wide part was at her lips and the rounded tip was in her mouth. It protruded fairly far in, though not far enough to trigger her gag reflex. It did, however, pin her tongue down quite effectively. There seemed to be a little ridge around it, just behind the lips, that her teeth settled into quite naturally. She tried biting the object to test its consistency. The outer surface was flexible and rubbery without any particularly definable flavor. There was a definite resistance further inside that hinted that there was more to it.

With it completely seated in her mouth, her teeth were forced to stay open what felt like about an inch. She wiggled her jaw hinges side to side slightly. It didn't feel like she'd be uncomfortable wearing the thing, though if it held her jaws any further open she had a suspicion that she'd get cramps before long.

Cathy tried to say, "wait a minute," but all that came out was a faint, muffled mumble.

"That's OK dear. It's designed to be as comfortable as possible. It has some other useful features which I'll introduce you to during our trip today. Now let's just get this attached and you'll look great."

At this point Miss Martinez stepped around to stand in front of Cathy. She had piece of pink cloth in her hand which she held up in front of Cathy's eyes. It was a flesh-colored strip with a pair of lips embroidered on its surface. It looked quite realistic. Miss Martinez turned it over to reveal a Velcro backing which she then pressed up against the strap across Cathy's face, which turned out to have matching Velcro on it. After a few seconds of fiddling, Miss Martinez turned away.

"Do you have everything that belongs here, Miss Westix?"

"One second, I'll check," said the matron.

The matron expertly stripped the bed, piling the blankets and the linen on the floor near the cell door. She took Cathy's pail and started taking the clothing from it, dropping them on the pile of linen one piece at a time.

"Slacks, shirt, socks, bra, where're the panties? The panties aren't here?"

"Did you pack your panties, my dear?" asked Miss Martinez?

Cathy shook her head no.

"Hmm. I wonder where they are?"

Miss Martinez suddenly stepped forward and lifted the hem of Cathy's skirt.

"Here they are, Miss Westix. She's got them on. Hold on a second, I'll get them off for you."

Miss Martinez pulled Cathy's skirt further up and reached around behind her. She grabbed the elastic at the back of the panties and in one quick motion pulled them down to Cathy's ankles.

"Step out of them, dear, please, won't you?" said Miss Martinez.

Cathy blushed furiously and shook her head. She grunted in protest.

"Let's not get off to a bad start, dear," said Miss Martinez, with the first hint of steel in her voice. "Don't worry about being naked or cold down there. I'll take good care of you."

Cathy stepped out of the panties. After all, she reflected, she was bound and gagged. There was little she could actually do, and in any case, she was a sentenced prisoner with virtually no rights to start with.

"Very good dear," said Miss Martinez, all warmth again, "Now the final step in preparing you for the trip will seem at first to be a bit of a surprise. Before we go on, I feel that it's best to explain why I need to do this."

Cathy was taken aback. More surprising than strapping this big plastic thing in her mouth?

Miss Martinez went on, "Back before the prison was privatized and budgets were cut, we didn't do this. But back then each transport team consisted of two matrons like me plus a State Police officer to keep order and provide any necessary security assistance."

"Now, however, each transfer is limited to a single matron, that's me, dear, and instead of one or two prisoners per trip we take up to six. Today we have five, four more plus you, to pick up. Because of the long distances and the number of prisoners, we don't have the time to ensure an adequate number of stops along the way."

Cathy looked at her expectantly. Miss Martinez seemed to be beating around the bush for a terribly long time. And when would she give her a pair of panties?

"Lie down on the bunk here, dear, and lift your legs up," said Miss Martinez.

Miss Martinez stood close to her and slightly behind on the right. Cathy sensed the matron moving up to a similar position on her left. Cathy moved forward to the bunk and turned her back to it. She bent her knees and slid her bottom on to the slippery surface that had so recently hosted her sheets and blankets. Lying back was a bit of a challenge with her hands pinioned behind her, but she finally relaxed and flopped back onto the mattress.

To Cathy's surprise and dismay, Miss Martinez and Miss Westix then stepped forward and quickly handcuffed her ankles to the siderails of the upper bunk, one on each side. Cathy felt grotesquely spread out, particularly since the short skirt had ridden up during the maneuver, leaving her completely exposed.

Miss Martinez then turned away and rummaged in the satchel, which she'd moved to the top of the bunk across the cell when Miss Westix had been checking the inventory. When Miss Martinez turned to face Cathy, she held a bundle of white cloth in her hand.

"All right, dear," Miss Martinez said with a friendly smile, "just stay there and we'll get you taken care of lickety-split. Would you lift your bottom up there for a moment, dear?"

By now Cathy was beginning to have a notion of what was coming, but she was too astonished, and too limited in options by now, to resist. She flexed her back, transferring her weight to her shoulders and her ankles and lifting her bottom off of the mattress.

Miss Martinez quickly put one of the cloth rectangles down on the mattress. She then picked the other up and folded it in half lengthwise and put it down on top of the other one.

"OK, let down now, dear."

Cathy lowered her bottom to the mattress. As she expected, the thick wad of cloth was centered underneath her bottom. She could feel the top of the cloth more by the transition from its relative warmth to the coolness of the slick mattress surface than from any particular texture. Miss Martinez produced a gob of cold oily cream of some sort from a jar on the other bed and proceeded to rub it in to the skin of Cathy's groin area, front and rear. Then Miss Martinez leaned over Cathy's midriff and reached down between her legs and smoothly pulled the rest of the cloth up and snugly pressed it between her legs. The top came up to Cathy's waist. Miss Martinez then secured the outer pad using Velcro straps that Cathy hadn't noticed before.

Miss Martinez turned back to her satchel and returned with another strip of cloth. This one seemed quite thin and about half the width of the large pad at its widest. This one had Velcro strips at each end, which Miss Martinez secured to the waistband of Cathy's new pair of "panties" at the front and back, so that it covered the central part of the cloth entirely. Cathy was puzzled at the purpose of this extra item and she looked inquisitively at Miss Martinez and grunted questioningly.

"Oh that, dear? That's just to let me know how you're doing."

The explanation didn't mean anything to Cathy, but it was obviously all that she was going to get. Meanwhile Miss Martinez had turned back to the satchel and fetched what looked to Cathy like a crumpled pink rubber glove.

"Miss Westix, if you'd oblige me by releasing her inside leg and holding it firmly by the knee?"

Miss Westix sat down at the end of the bunk and reached up to the handcuff that secured Cathy's ankle there. She unlocked it with a key that she produced from her pocket and then scooted forward a bit so that she could wrap her arms around Cathy's leg at the thigh. If Cathy had had any thought of using her one free leg to kick or fight, she was certain that it wouldn't do her any good.

Miss Martinez shook out the pink object, which turned out to resemble a pair of baby's translucent waterproof plastic pants, but in a size large enough to accommodate her adult female hips plus the extra padding she now wore, and threaded the hanging handcuff and Cathy's ankle through it. She then briskly reconnected the open cuff to the lower bedrail.

"OK, Miss Westix, the other leg, if you please."

The maneuver was repeated, at the end of which time the plastic pants were draped around Cathy's knees. Miss Martinez reconnected her right ankle handcuff to the same bedrail as that which held Cathy's left ankle, which reduced the spreading of her legs. Meanwhile Miss Westix slid off of the bed and stood up, smoothing out her uniform.

Now Miss Martinez sat down on the bunk just below the calfs of Cathy's legs. She quickly worked the plastic pants up her legs and settled them about her hips and thighs. She checked efficiently around each hem, carefully tucking stray bits of cloth inside.

Finally Miss Martinez stood up. She dusted off her hands in symbolic show of completion and turned to her satchel, which she repacked and closed up. She turned back and as she put the strap of the satchel over he shoulder, she said to Cathy, "You're ready to travel now, my dear. Miss Westix will unlock your ankles from the bed. We will help you stand up and then we will walk down to the transit station where they'll process your transfer from this prison to my custody for transportation to Meridon. You won't give us any trouble will you? I wouldn't want to have to ask Miss Westix to hobble you or otherwise restrain you, my dear. You've been wonderfully cooperative so far. Will you cooperate now? Nod your head."

Cathy, in a daze, nodded. They set off.

[diaperpt]

This is a wonderful start! I'm anxious to see what happens both along the way and when she gets to Meridon. The fact it is a private prison facility opens up so many possibilities...

[diaper24/7]

I like this very creative story please more.

[Cute Baby]

Great start, looking forawrd to the next part.

[fyunch]

Rehabilitating Cathy - Part 2

The blue oval

Miss Westix radioed to the control center that they were ready to depart. While they waited for the remote control door lock to be released, Cathy caught a glimpse of herself in the cell mirror that had been the focus of all of her vanity for the last three-and-a-half months. It was astonishing. The flesh-colored applique across her mouth and the baggy dress disguised everything. She looked for all the world like she was on her way for a stroll in the park.

A loud click, and the cell door opened a few inches. Miss Westix pushed it open and stood to the side holding it for Cathy and Miss Martinez.

As they walked down the corridor to the transit station, Cathy was acutely aware of the thick wad of cloth between her legs. It rubbed her most sensitive areas in a sensual way as her legs moved back and forth. She felt the slick softness of the plastic pants against the sensitive skin of the inside of her thighs.

This is stimulating, she thought. I better not start liking it.

They got to the transit station and Miss Westix motioned for Cathy to sit down in a chair. Miss Martinez and Miss Westix then conferred with two women at the counter of the control center. Miss Martinez showed them several documents on a clipboard that she produced from an outer pocket of her satchel. The four women examined the papers and looked across the room at Cathy. One of the control center staff, a tall thin woman with brown hair, turned to her computer and typed something there. She then said something to Miss Martinez and picked up a telephone and dialed. The thin woman spoke on the phone, clearly asking and answering questions, some of which she relayed to Miss Martinez and Miss Westix. She glanced over at Cathy and away and then glanced quickly back. Cathy's heart raced for a moment. What was going on? During the next half hour, while the women seemed to be conducting some sort of complex discussion on the phone, the thin woman glanced frequently over at Cathy.

Suddenly Cathy realized that she was sitting facing straight at the thin woman and that her short skirt couldn't hide the bulky swaddling around her loins. She pressed her knees together in an attempt at modesty, though the bulky material between her thighs made this uncomfortable to sustain for any length of time.

Finally the thin woman nodded her head at something that someone on the phone said and turned to Miss Martinez and nodded at her. She hung up the phone and rummaged in her desk, from which she produced a paper form, which she laboriously filled out, referring repeatedly to Miss Martinez' clipboard and to her own computer terminal. She signed the form, as did Miss Martinez and Miss Westix. She tore one of the carbon copies off and gave it to Miss Martinez, who stuck it into the pile on her clipboard. Martinez returned the clipboard to her satchel and then Miss Martinez and the fourth woman, a sturdy blonde who looked like she worked out with weights, turned to Cathy.

"All set, dear," said Miss Martinez. "All of the paperwork is in order and we're ready to go. Come along."

Cathy tried to stand up from the chair. Between the imbalance caused by having her hands strapped behind her and the lack of friction between her plastic pants and the smooth plastic surface of the chair, she had trouble getting up. Miss Martinez stepped forward and put one hand on Cathy's shoulder and one at the small of her back and helped her stand up, stabilizing her as she gained her balance. As Miss Martinez let go of her, Cathy was almost certain that she'd patted Cathy's padded bottom.

When they emerged to the parking lot and the midmorning sunshine, Cathy blinked her eyes at the sudden unexpected brightness. As her eyes adjusted to the light, Miss Martinez and the matron led her over to a large heavy looking brown van. The van had no markings on the doors or sides that Cathy could see, though it did have what looked like an official license plate. The windows were made of darkened glass and she couldn't see inside.

Miss Martinez unlocked the rear of the van, swinging both of the doors open wide. Cathy looked inside apprehensively. The space inside the van held six large chairs, three on each side facing each other. The chairs looked large and comfortable.

"Up you go, my dear," said Miss Martinez.

Cathy put one foot up on the floor of the van and shifted her weight forward. Miss Martinez helped her up, placing her large hand square in the middle of Cathy's padded bottom and pushing. She hopped up into the van herself while the blonde matron stood alertly at the doorway.

Miss Martinez led Cathy forward to the frontmost chair on the right side of the van.

"Just turn a bit and sit back, dear. That's good. Now just let me get you settled in snugly and we'll be on our way."

She pushed Cathy back into the chair, which, she realized, had an extra recess in the back to reduce the pressure on her arms. Amazing, Cathy thought to herself, these chairs are custom made just for carrying people with their hands strapped in back of them like this. Miss Martinez busied herself with a collection of straps. One across Cathy's waist, another X-shaped pair across her chest, and two pairs that secured her legs to the chair. When Miss Martinez was done Cathy was comfortable but absolutely incapable of getting out of the chair. I hope we don't have an accident, Cathy thought to herself.

Miss Martinez quickly checked each strap for snugness. As she turned away, she reached down casually with her left hand and patted Cathy's padded crotch. "All set, my dear."

Miss Martinez stepped down from the rear of the van. She closed and locked the doors. Cathy watched through the smoked glass windows as Miss Martinez and the sturdy woman talked together. It looked like Miss Martinez was checking her directions. Both women spent some time looking at a map that Miss Martinez produced from her satchel.

Finally, Miss Martinez waved at the blonde guard and walked around the van to the driver's door.

As they waited for the outer cast-iron gate to be wheeled aside so that they could get on their way, Miss Martinez said to Cathy,

"I wish they didn't require the gags on you girls, my dear. Driving these long distances would be much more fun if we could chat. But I'm sure they know what they're doing. If I had six of you and you were all shouting and cursing, I'm sure I'd wish you were all gagged."

She turned the van out on to the two-lane highway passing in front of the prison. In about ten minutes she approached the intersection of the Interstate highway. She turned in to a large filling station just before the onramp.

"Just a quick pit stop, my dear, and we'll be on the road," said Miss Martinez. She got out of the van and locked the front door. She spoke to the attendant when he came over. He pointed over to the side of the garage and Miss Martinez started walking in that direction while he moved to the pump and began to fill the van with gasoline.

After five or ten minutes Miss Martinez returned. She paid the attendant, unlocked the van, and got in. As she started the engine and steered the van to the onramp, she turned momentarily to Cathy and said kindly, "Don't worry about anything, dear. We'll be on the road for about an hour and a half. If you need to go, just go ahead. Those diapers you have on will protect you just fine. They'd keep an elephant dry, my dear, and I don't think your bladder has that much capacity, do you?"

By the time they turned off the Interstate Cathy was thoroughly bored. Miss Martinez' conversational stream had run down within half an hour of starting out. Cathy would have been glad to talk with her, but the gag that inhabited her mouth was distinctly intolerant of speech.

Miss Martinez maneuvered the van along a road that crossed the Interstate for several miles. Cathy saw a long razor wire fence along the side of the road off to the left quite some time before they drew up to a brick gatehouse and a forbidding set of iron gates. Miss Martinez pulled up in front of the gatehouse and got out of the van, locking it behind her with Cathy inside. I guess she isn't worried that I'll trash the van, thought Cathy wryly.

Her captor disappeared inside of the gatehouse, though Cathy caught a glimpse of her through the window that gave on to the verge of the road in front of the gate. After what seemed to Cathy like an interminable wait, Miss Martinez and a trim sandy-haired middle-aged man emerged from the gatehouse. Miss Martinez got back into the van and the man waved at her as the gate opened and they drove into the grounds of this, to Cathy, nameless prison.

"We won't be here too long, dear," said Miss Martinez. There are two girls here waiting to be transported to Meridon, but I've worked with the staff here before and they're used to the routine, so the girls will be ready. We won't spend as much time here as we did getting you ready. Did you know that you're the first girl from your old place ever to transfer to Meridon?"

Cathy waited in the locked van while Miss Martinez, carrying her satchel over her rounded shoulder, disappeared into the prison. There was nothing to see. Not a bird, not a tree, not a dog or a cat. Nothing. She peered out in each of the three directions that she could see, but nothing moved. Boredom.

She began to pay attention to her body and her immediate surroundings. She flexed each limb in turn and wriggled her legs and her torso. Nothing gave. She tried biting into her gag, but it hadn't changed at all. She tried making the loudest sound she could, which disappointed her by being a nasal whine. She tried pulling her elbows apart, but the padded apparatus that secured them to one another behind her back was completely secure. Finally she relaxed her body and tried to fall asleep.

She was running as fast as she could. She was still three blocks from home and breathing hard. She ran and ran and ran. When she got to Sunset Highway, the light was red. She stopped and waited impatiently for the light to change. She shifted her weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other and back again. Why wouldn't the damn light change? She had to get home now.

Suddenly Cathy woke up. I wonder how long I was asleep, she mused. She looked around, but nothing had changed. She couldn't tell if the angle of the shadows had changed, but she didn't know if that was because the sun hadn't moved or because she hadn't noticed the angle before she dozed off. Vaguely Cathy became aware that the seat of her anxiety was centered somewhere in her lower half. She tried to focus on the sensation. I have to pee, she thought. Damn! Where is Miss Martinez, she thought. At least we're here at this place ... I'm sure that they have enough guards to escort me to the john. I'm glad the urge hit me here.

With the awareness of her need came increased urgency, but the surrounding terrain remained still and oblivious. Cathy sucked on her gag in frustration.

After what seemed like an eternity, the door into which Miss Martinez had entered last year opened and a positive troop of people emerged into the bright light. Miss Martinez led the way to the van and as they walked Cathy resolved them into six individuals. Two were young women in short cotton shifts with vertical pink and white stripes. Their hands weren't visible, but Cathy was sure that they were strapped behind their backs. Each girl was flanked by a pair of matrons dressed in olive green uniform fatigues. Cathy couldn't tell if the two prisoners were diapered as she was, but the skirts did look bigger than they needed to be for the slimness of the girls' thighs and calfs.

Cathy watched the little procession approach the van until it disappeared behind her. She felt the van vibrate as Miss Martinez opened the back doors. The rush of cool air reminded Cathy of how close the inside of the van had become and she welcomed the fresh air with deep breaths, completely forgetting the increasing pressure between her legs in the confusion of the moment.

Miss Martinez steered the first girl to the seat opposite Cathy and pushed her back into it. Briskly she strapped her in and then turned to Cathy.

"Cathy, this is Linda," she said, pointing. "Linda, this is Cathy. You are both from the same college, did you know each other?"

Linda had long blonde hair that hung straight down her shoulders, ending just above her breasts. Linda's legs were long and slim and she seemed tall. Looks like a model to me, thought Cathy. Cathy looked curiously at Linda's crotch. The front of the skirt was hanging partway down, so Cathy couldn't be absolutely certain, but she was pretty sure that Linda was diapered. She certainly had pink panties on, in any case, and they looked suspiciously bulgy and shiny. Cathy peered at Linda's face, but didn't recognize her. She couldn't be absolutely certain, since her mouth was covered and the shape of her cheeks were distorted by the strap and its coy pink covering, but Linda was certainly not one of the girls that Cathy knew well. There are over 15,000 other girls at the college, Cathy reasoned to herself. No reason that I should know her. And she might not even be my year, for that matter.

Next, Miss Martinez positioned the second girl in front of the seat to Cathy's left, on the same side of the van. She made quick work of strapping her in. Cathy looked over her shoulder at the newest girl, who had flowing curly hair of a luxurious auburn color. The new girl wasn't as tall as Linda, and perhaps it was a trick of the angle, but to Cathy she seemed to be quite well endowed. If Linda's boyfriend is a leg man, Cathy thought, then this girl's beau must be a tit man. The new girl's mouth was covered by the same cloth strip that covered Linda's and that she knew covered her own. I presume there's a gag under there, thought Cathy. Surprise me. The short skirt of the cotton dress had ridden up quite far on this girl and there was no doubt that she was heavily diapered. Her plastic pants were the same translucent pink as Cathy's own. That makes three, thought Cathy.

"Mary, this is Cathy. Cathy, Mary. Cathy, Linda and Mary know each other. They were cellmates for the last month, once their transfer to Meridon was arranged."

Introductions over, the three girls settled down to get acquainted. The conversation, for some reason, was extremely slow in getting started. Too bad about the gags, thought Cathy. Miss Martinez stepped out of the back of the van and shut and locked the doors. She stood talking with one of the olive-drab guards while the other three straggled back to the door, where they stood under the shade of an overhang looking back at their colleague. Finally Miss Martinez started around the van toward the driver's door and the fourth guard headed for the door.

As the van turned out of the prison onto the road, Cathy remembered her bulging bladder. OhMyGod, she thought, I didn't get a chance to go to the bathroom. I wonder how long it will be to the next stop.

Miss Martinez might as well have been a mind reader. As they turned on to the Interstate and merged with the fast flowing traffic, she said to her rapt audience,

"Not too long to the next stop, girls. This one may be a bit of a challenge, however, because we'll be picking up a girl who will just have been sentenced and she won't have had any time to prepare herself for the trip to Meridon. The folks at the courthouse have dealt with us before, so I don't expect any trouble, but there may be some delay."

By the time they turned off the Interstate again, Cathy was squirming. She tried closing her legs to increase the pressure on her bladder and hold it back, but the straps kept her legs indecently spread. The sensation from her urinary sphincter was a burning pain that became the entire focus of her consciousness. She noticed Linda looking at her, but she couldn't tell if the other girl was curious, amused, sympathetic, or bored.

The van drove past the front of the courthouse and turned in to an enclosed loading dock area just around the corner from the front of the building. Miss Martinez got out of the van and locked her door, as Cathy realized she always did. She stood near the van, however, until a lean man in a State Police uniform carrying a clipboard approached her. They talked for a few minutes, and then the lean man lifted a walkie talkie from his belt and spoke into it. A few minutes later three people emerged from the double doors in the center of the wall above the loading dock. One was another State Police officer, this one much stockier than his colleague. The other two were women, one in the uniform of the State Police and the other, a much younger woman, in a blouse and a tweed skirt. The girl had her hands cuffed behind her and had obviously been crying.

Miss Martinez rushed over to the trio. Cathy couldn't follow what was going on terribly well, but Miss Martinez clearly wanted them to move the girl indoors where, presumably, she could dress her in the pink and white striped dress and all of its concomitant goodies. The two State Police officers rejected Miss Martinez' demands, nodding their heads with finality. The woman pointed at the girl's skirt and waved her other arm. Miss Martinez shook her head firmly. Finally, after much back and forth discussion, it seemed that a compromise had emerged. Miss Martinez put her satchel down on the ground and took out one of the padded cloth arm binders. The two State Police officers gripped the girl by the arms and Miss Martinez stepped behind her and busied herself with the straps. Then Miss Martinez fetched a jumble of straps from her satchel and the male policeman stepped up behind the girl and gripped the sides of her jaw. Cathy heard a sharp shriek, quickly cut off, and the next thing she saw was Miss Martinez putting the final adjustments to the gag straps while the girl tried to shake her head from side to side, as the policewoman tried to hold her head steady.

At this point Miss Martinez gathered up her satchel and darted to the back of the van, which she quickly opened. The two State Police officers manhandled the girl, still making quiet keening noises and visibly weeping, up to the floor of the van, where she collapsed on her knees. Cathy stared intently, wondering how Miss Martinez was going to handle this situation.

Miss Martinez kneeled down next to the crying girl and spoke quietly and intensely to her. The girl shook her head and turned away from Miss Martinez. The next thing Cathy knew, Miss Martinez had grasped the girl firmly, placing her left hand on the girl's shoulder and reaching down behind her with her right hand. Cathy couldn't see Miss Martinez's right hand, but from the angle she could tell that Miss Martinez' hand was somewhere near the girl's bottom.

The girl's head jerked up as if she'd been tugged by a rope. She came up off of the floor in a rush, almost hitting her head on the roof of the van. As the girl turned toward the seat next to Linda, Cathy could see what was propelling her. Miss Martinez' right hand was underneath the girl's skirt, pressing upward forcefully.

Once the new girl was settled in her seat and securely strapped in, Miss Martinez stopped for a moment, seemed to take a deep breath, and then turned to the other girls and said to them,

"Girls, this is Tamara. Tamara, these are Linda, Cathy, and Mary," pointing to each one in turn.

As Miss Martinez closed and locked the back doors of the van and got settled in the driver's seat, the other three girls assessed the new arrival. Tamara was dressed in a pretty white blouse trimmed in lace, somewhat disheveled. Her short tweed skirt was practically around her waist, revealing bulging pink plastic pants that obviously covered the regulation issue diapers.

By the time they reached the onramp to the Interstate, Miss Martinez had calmed down and was chatting quite companionably to the four silent girls.

"All right, girls, we're on the way. One more stop, where we will pick up our last passenger, and then a couple more hours and we'll arrive at your new home."

"Tamara, I'm quite disappointed at your courthouse staff, I must say. The last time I picked up a girl from there, they were wonderful. They provided us with a changing room where we could get her packed and we had a simply charming departure. Today it was a total disaster. They clearly didn't read the packing instructions carefully. They diapered you properly, at least I hope they did, but they didn't do any of the rest of it at all. I can't imagine what they did with the dress."

By now Cathy's need to pee had returned with a vengeance. The excitement surrounding Tamara's arrival had distracted her from her plan to attract Miss Martinez' attention, and she had lost the moment again. She didn't know if she could hold on much longer. The burning pain between her legs now occupied her entire consciousness.

Cathy began to lash her head from side to side, moaning as she did so. The other girls watched in fascinated horror, unable to help and unsure of the problem. At a pause in her monologue, Miss Martinez noticed Cathy's distress.

"Cathy? Are you all right?"

A vigorous negative shake of the head.

"What's the problem, dear?"

Cathy stared. She made her attempt at speech, producing the muffled grunting that she'd grown used to in the hours of her confinement.

"I'll bet you have to pee, don't you, my dear?"

Cathy nodded. Miss Martinez caught the vigorous motion in the wide curved rearview mirror.

"Don't worry, dear. You won't leak. Just go ahead and do what comes naturally. I told you when we packed you that we didn't have the staff to provide adequate rest stops. Given how long you've been done up, I'm surprised you aren't wet already, to tell you the truth."

Cathy stopped breathing in horror. The diapers weren't just a precaution. Miss Martinez expected her to wet herself. Unbidden, tears started to pour down Cathy's face.

Cathy clenched the inner muscles of her thighs, trying to help her besieged bladder. She could feel the thick cloth bunch between her legs and press against her crotch. She was acutely aware of the texture of the plastic panties against the sensitive skin on the inside of her thighs. The pressure of the compressed cloth of the diaper against her sensitive crotch made Cathy aware of an increasing, and not unpleasant, sensation. Cripes, she thought, I'm getting hot.

The crying somehow reduced Cathy's need to pee. The crisis passed, though the continuing pain between her legs told her that it was only a reprieve, not a pardon. She again became aware of her surroundings. Across the aisle Tamara and Linda were staring at her. She thought she saw signs of sympathy on their faces.

Tamara began to chew on her gag. Cathy could see her cheeks flex and bulge around the hidden strap. Cathy wondered what was bothering Tamara. Tamara began to wriggle her lower torso, short jerky motions brought up sharply by the straps securing her to the seat.

Cathy stared fascinated. Suddenly she noticed a small blue oval near the center of the crotch of Tamara's plastic panties. That wasn't there when she sat down, thought Cathy. As she stared, fascinated, the oval slowly grew larger. It didn't grow evenly, but rather it grew in length faster than in width and it grew downward faster than upward. Within a few minutes Tamara's diaper was bisected by a blue band that extended from underneath her bottom to halfway up her crotch.

Light dawned suddenly for Cathy. Tamara must have just wet her pants. The blue band was an indicator. I'll bet that blue band is on that thin strip that she put over the diaper before she put on the plastic pants, thought Cathy. Now she knew what Miss Martinez meant when she had said that it was to let her know how Cathy was doing. With the realization, came the final struggle against her own urethra. She knew that she would lose and she wished that she could give up and end the pain, but the struggle went on and on. Finally she felt the first squirt as her urinary sphincter began to spasm. Squirt. Squirt. Squirt. She felt the crotch of her diaper get damp as she wet it. Squirt. Squirt. Squirt. Her arousal was increasing! Squirt. Squirt. Squirt. More pee, and she could tell that she had only begun to wet her pants ... there was much more to come. Squirt. Squirt. Squirt. She began to pant rhythmically, in time with the pulsing of her pee. Squirt. Squirt. Squirt. Suddenly she began to feel a telltale warmth start to flow over her body, radiating outward from her crotch. No! She screamed silently to herself, or not so silently she realized, as her rhythmic grunting penetrated her hazed consciousness. Squirt. Squirt. Squirt. As her orgasm rose to its peak and then began to ebb, she relaxed. Cathy's pee flooded out of her and into the thirsty, waiting diaper.

Sight returned. As Cathy's breathing slowed she became aware of the girls around her. No secrets among us, she thought. There's no way they could have mistaken what just happened. She would have blushed with embarassment if her face hadn't already been flushed red from the exertions of her final struggle and sudden overwhelming defeat.

[diaperpt]

Great chapter! Excellent descriptions...a little light on dialogue, haha (love the gags, but I don't quite get the little pasty lips). Looking forward to the next installment.

[Cute Baby]

Totally great chapter, dont leave it to long for the next one

[diaper24/7]

Yes nice chapter really getting better as it go along in each chapter you done and please keep it coming.

[fyunch]

Rehabilitating Cathy - Part 3

Dead skunk in the middle of the road

It was mid-afternoon. Cathy had almost forgotten the damp feeling clinging to her loins. Across the van from her she could see two blue stripes bisecting two diapers. She wondered if Mary, off to her left, was exhibiting the blue stripe as well. By now Tamara's stripe had extended upward until it disappared under the waistband of her plastic panties. The moisture had had time to soak upward, against the pull of gravity.

Suddenly Cathy sensed a change in the rhythm of the van. They were slowing down. They were approaching an exit. This is the last stop before we get to Meridon, thought Cathy. Thank goodness! I can't wait to get out of these fucking diapers.

After the usual interminable delays, Miss Martinez opened the rear doors of the van and entered with a slender blonde girl. She was bound in the usual way and her mouth sported the same flesh-colored cloth disguise as all of theirs. Cathy guessed that she was diapered, though she couldn't see anything from her vantage point. All of the girls looked curiously at the new arrival.

"Girls, this is Denise. She's a shoplifter whose behavior at her current prison made her unwelcome. Denise, please meet Tamara, Linda, Cathy, and Mary."

Instead of stepping out of the back of the van after securing Denise in the seat to Mary's left, however, Miss Martinez moved forward, stopping in front of Linda. She tested each of Linda's bindings, nodding her head in satisfaction at their firmness. She pulled Linda's skirt up and examined the blue stripe that bisected her crotch from top to bottom. Her last action was to press the back of her hand against the crotch of Linda's diaper, as if to feel her temperature.

"Very good, Linda. Comfy now?"

Miss Martinez then turned to Cathy and treated her to the same examination, including taking the temperature of her diaper. After completing her inspections of Tamara and Mary, Miss Martinez then addressed them all.

"Well, girls, I think it's time for a sip of something to drink, don't you?"

Cathy perked up at the prospect of having her gag removed, even if for only a few minutes, to take a drink. I hope it's cool, she thought.

Miss Martinez busied herself with a cooler mounted on the floor of the van just behind the front passenger's seat and off to Cathy's right. From it she extracted what looked like a plump balloon. This she hung from a hook in the center of the ceiling of the van. She turned back to the cooler and returned with what turned out to be a long plastic or rubber tube. Miss Martinez attached one end of the tube to a fitting on the balloon and then turned to Cathy with the other end in her hand.

"Open wide, my dear," said Miss Martinez with a chuckle. The end of the tube seemed to have a thin metal fitting on it. This fitting she pressed against the middle of Cathy's gag. What's she doing, thought Cathy? The metal fitting found a small hole between the embroidered lips and slid into a matching receptacle in Cathy's gag. Cathy felt more than heard a metallic click as Miss Martinez seated the tube home with a twist of her hand. Suddenly Cathy felt her mouth begin to fill up with a slightly sweet fluid. It was seeping out of holes all over the gag! Cathy's mouth filled up and she was forced to swallow a mouthful of the fluid. Her mouth started to fill up again. She stared at the balloon. It didn't seem any smaller. It must hold at least a quart, Cathy thought in despair. If I drink all of that, I'll have to pee again.

In short order each of the other four girls was hooked up to her own bulging balloon. The sight of the working jaws as the girls drank the fluid down suddenly struck Cathy as terribly funny.

As they got under way, Miss Martinez addressed her captive audience,

"Enjoy your refreshments, girls. What you're drinking is basically just water, but it has some sugar and salt added to make it match the electrolyte balance of your bodies better. What that means is that your stomach absorbs it more quickly. It's like Gatorade. Plus a little diuretic and a tiny bit of laxative."

Oh, great, Cathy thought. More fluids. Well, the diaper's already wet. Anyway, if I leak, it's her problem, she thought rebelliously.

The next eternity dragged slowly for Cathy. She couldn't tell how much time had gone by, but they had passed six exits from the Interstate when Tamara began to act agitated. She strained her limbs fruitlessly at the straps that welded her to the large padded chair. She turned her head this way and that. She made muffled grunting sounds through her gag.

Suddenly Cathy realized that Tamara was flexing her thighs and calves with all of her might. Cathy could see the individual muscles of her calves standing out, and the tendons above her knees were quite distinct. The tremendous force moved her torso up an inch or so in the chair. Cathy realized that Tamara had managed to raise her bottom off of the seat almost entirely.

The other four girls were now thoroughly alarmed at Tamara's behavior. I hope she's not having a seizure, thought Cathy. All four of them began thrashing around and grunting through their gags in an effort to attract Miss Martinez' attention.

Miss Martinez glanced back in her rear-view mirror. Instead of slowing down and pulling over, however, she gave an amused chuckle.

"Don't worry about Tamara, girls, she'll be just fine. I've seen this many times before. She's either just soiled herself or is about to soil herself. It'll be over in a minute or two, you'll see."

Cathy stared in horrified fascination at Tamara. Her heaving breast indicated the rapidity and depth of her breathing. Her face was red with exertion and glistened with perspiration. She seemed to be flexing her lower abdomen as she strained her legs and grunted rhythmically through her gag.

As quickly as it had started, it was over. Tamara suddenly slumped in her seat, her eyes closing and all of the fight draining out of her. Shortly afterward Cathy's sensitive nose caught a whiff of confirmation of Miss Martinez' prediction. Tears ran down Tamara's cheeks as she wept silently.

Two exits later they were treated to a repeat performance as Denise messed her pants. Having witnessed Tamara's humiliation, this one didn't provoke nearly the alarm in the other girls as had the first one.

Miss Martinez adjusted the vents in the dashboard of the van. "It's getting a bit close in here, isn't it girls? I remember one time two or three years ago when I had a full van and all six of them messed before we got to Meridon. It was so smelly in here that I had to open the windows up front, even though it was the dead of winter and way below freezing outside. But that was before we began recommending that transfer candidates not be fed on the day they are shipped. Now we've gotten it down to where no more than half of you girls arrive with dirty pants."

Oh no, Cathy thought to herself. I ate breakfast this morning. And oatmeal, too. Now that she noticed it, she did have that feeling deep inside her that usually preceded a bowel movement. Oh, shit, in more ways than one, she thought.

At the next exit Miss Martinez turned the van off of the Interstate. At the bottom of the ramp she pulled into a gas station and drove up to a full service pump.

"This van is very powerful girls," Miss Martinez said to them as she unbuckled her seat belt and stepped out of the door, "it'll pass anything on the road except a gas station."

With that, she closed and locked the door of the van. She spoke to the attendant, who moved to the rear of the van with his nozzle as Miss Martinez walked over to the service station and, Cathy presumed, its bathrooms.

When Miss Martinez returned to the van, she didn't immediately drive away. Instead she moved the van over to the side of the service station where there were some parking spots. She came back to where the girls sat and inspected them. As before, she shook all of the straps. She took the temperature of each girl's diapered crotch with the back of her hand. And she lowered her head to about bust-height over each girl's lap and sniffed. Well, thought Cathy, if anyone soiled herself without making a fuss, Miss Martinez knows her secret now.

They hadn't been back on the road long when Miss Martinez picked up the handset of a cellphone mounted between the driver's and passenger's seats. She pressed a button and held the handset to her ear.

"Jane? Hi, it's me. I've got them all. No problems, though those dopes in Andersonville wouldn't let me dress Tamara Cousins properly. No, she's packed properly, but she's in her own clothes. I don't know what happened to the dress. Maybe Warden can call the courthouse and ask what they did with it."

She listened for a few seconds. "Five blue and two brown, so far." Another pause. "No, no troublemakers. A normal cleanup crew will do, I think."

"We're at mile 178, so we'll be at the gate in less than half an hour. See you soon."

Hello, Dolly

Not long afer the phone call, Miss Martinez turned the van off the Interstate at an otherwise undistinguished exit. "Meridon Road" said the big green sign. The service board didn't show any of the cute little icons to indicate the presence of motels, gas stations, shopping malls, or other necessities of life.

The landscape was low rolling hills, partially wooded. The areas that weren't wooded seemed to be pasture land. Cathy didn't see any orderly rows of crops or other indications of agriculture.

At the bottom of the offramp the van turned left, passing back under the highway and off into the woods beyond. After no more than a couple of minutes, the left side of the road opened up. Wide fields covered with mown grass extended from the side of the road to a high chain link fence that paralleled the road some distance from it. After a while they turned left onto a long straight gravel driveway that took them to a stone gatehouse. Miss Martinez pulled the van up in front of the gate, set the parking brake, and got out of the van. This time she left the engine running and didn't close, much less lock, the door of the van.

A short thickset man with grey hair came out of the gatehouse.

"Hello, Maria," he said.

"Hello, Ziggy," she replied, "how are you today?"

"Just fine, Maria. How was your trip?"

"It was OK. No more than the usual problems with the petty bureaucrats. This batch of girls seems reasonably well behaved."

"That's good. They're expecting you inside. They've got a reception team waiting in the intake center. Go right up."

"Great. Thanks."

Miss Martinez returned to the van, shutting the door. Ziggy went back into the gatehouse and a moment later the big chain-link panel began to roll slowly to the side, clearing the way for the van to proceed inside.

After passing yet another gate, this time without getting out for a conversation, they drove for what seemed to be quite some time before coming up to a cluster of grey stone buildings on the top of a low rise commanding a view of spreading fields in all directions. Off in one direction Cathy could see what looked like a soccer field in the distance. She could see a surprising number of tiny figures on and around the field. Some seemed to be running around on the field, presumably chasing a ball that she couldn't make out. Others were clustered in groups around the sidelines, seemingly waiting their turns to play or possibly just spectating.

That looks like fun, thought Cathy. I haven't played soccer since High School.

Miss Martinez pulled the van up in front of one of the stone buildings. She got out, closing, but not locking it, and went to the door. While Cathy waited she noticed that her bladder was now again quite full, thanks to the "refreshment" to which she'd been treated earlier. Feeling the wetness of her entire diaper, Cathy decided to relieve herself immediately rather than wait to be released. Who knows when I'll get a chance to use a bathroom next, thought Cathy, as she relaxed and flooded her diaper. The rush of new pee seemed to spread through her now-wet diaper much more rapidly than the first time, when it was dry. She felt the heat of the fresh pee spreading downward and backward up the soaking seat of her diaper, warming her bottom, and upward, warming her crotch and the lower edge of her firm belly. Her heightened senses registered the texture of the wet cloth against her most sensitive areas and she tensed her thigh muscles to increase the sensation. The slight motion of the muscles of her inner thighs caused the slightest friction between her soft tender skin and the plastic of her waterproof panties, which stimulated her more. Unfortunately, she couldn't manage to stimulate herself any more than that, so the heights of sensation that she'd reached at her first wetting remained unattainable.

The door opened and Miss Martinez emerged, trailed by a number of other women, all dressed alike in lemon-yellow jumpsuits. Cathy counted four, counting Miss Martinez. I wonder how they're going to control five convicted prisoners, she thought. Cathy wasn't destined to wonder for long.

Miss Martinez opened the rear doors of the van and stepped up, followed by one of the yellow-suited women. Miss Martinez and the woman in yellow unstrapped Denise and, grasping her by her shoulders and forearms, frogmarched her to the rear of the van, where they transferred her to the waiting arms of the women standing below. Mary followed her out into the afternoon air.

As the yellow-clad matron started to work on the straps on Cathy's right side, Miss Martinez started on her left. Strong arms lifted her from the seat and glided her swiftly to the rear doors of the van. She blinked in the glare of the sun as her eyes accustomed themselves to the light after the dim interior of the van.

Two of the yellow guards stood on either side of her, grasping her forearms gently. The third guard came around from the side of the van that had been behind Cathy only moments before. In her hands she carried what looked to Cathy like a furniture movers dolly, a rectangular wooden board, padded on top, with large gray plastic wheels on the bottom. The third guard placed the padded side of the dolly up against Cathy's calves, where it extended from just above her ankles to just below her knees. The guard knelt down on one knee and quickly fastened two broad straps from the both sides of the dolly, firmly attaching Cathy's calves to the top of the dolly.

The kneeling woman rose and nodded, at which point the guard on Cathy's left put her hand firmly on Cathy's thickly diapered bottom and pushed her forward. Not understanding what was happening, but not able to resist, Cathy's knees folded and the dolly lowered gently to the ground. She was kneeling on it. Next a strap was led from the back of the dolly up and inside of her bound arms and snugged down and fastened back to itself. This had the effect of keeping Cathy from rising from the dolly, though she could still adjust her position somewhat by flexing her knees and hips and sitting up higher or down lower. Finally, a strap was hooked on to a ring at one rear corner of the dolly and led across her lap and around to the other rear corner. When this was snugged down, the rear of Cathy's diaper was pressed firmly into her heels. This reminder of her wetness wasn't terribly welcome. Well, she thought, as the guards pushed her by her shoulders around to the side of the van, I'm glad I'm not Denise or Tamara. If I had a load of poop in there, I'd be really miserable now.

The guards left her next to the other two girls, identically bound to dollies and lined up along the side of the van. In short order Linda and Tamara joined them, each neatly and securely attached to a dolly.

Transfer to the intake center was uneventful and soon Cathy found herself parked with the other four girls in a neat line along the side of an interior corridor, facing a grey-painted cinderblock wall. She strained her head from side to side in an attempt to get a view of her surroundings, but all she got was an impression of a grey door with a glass panel in it across the hall.

After a while a woman came by and went down the line of girls examining each one's identity necklace and calling off the names and numbers to someone else whom Cathy couldn't see.

Hurry up and wait, Cathy thought. I wish they'd untie me and let me get out of this wet diaper and into normal clothes. I'm tired and hungry and I'd be happy to lie down in my new cell and go to sleep. Over to her left a muffled disturbance told her that one of the girls, she thought it was Mary, was losing her battle with her bowels. In the silence of the corridor Cathy could hear Mary's desperate puffing and grunting as she approached the crisis. Cathy heard a long muffled fart followed by an indiscribable sound and a shrill moan of despair as she filled the seat of her diaper. If I don't concentrate, thought Cathy, I'll be filling my own diaper in about five minutes.

Finally some action. A woman in a yellow guard's jumpsuit came out of the door across the hall. She went down the row of girls looking at the ID necklaces until she came to Linda. She pulled Linda's shoulders slid her dolly out from the row and across the hall into the open door, which closed behind them.

What seemed to Cathy several years later the woman reemerged, returning pushing Mary. More time passed. Cathy imagined what went on in the room behind the door. She imagined that Mary would be undressed and undiapered. She would be taken to a shower where a warm soft rain of water would clean her off completely, removing everything, almost even the memory of soiling in her diaper. A fresh set of clothing would follow, normal clothing including soft cotton panties and comfortable shoes. Then a tour of the prison and a trip to her new cell and a soft bed and sleep.

[diaperpt]

Fantastic writing! Great detail with quite an imagination. The little dollies for the women to be wheeled in on is a great invention! I love the way they were strapped down to it.

Why is it I suspect Cathy's thoughts of shower and being re-dressed is going to come true - but without the panties?? We'll have to wait to see!

I wonder about those people out playing soccer too...I suspect we'll eventually find out more about them? I hope so!

Keep the story going! This is a good one!!!

[Cute Baby]

I am surew she is in for more humilation, discomfrt and punishment, well I hope so!!

[diaper24/7]

Another nice chapter well done .

[fyunch]

Rehabilitating Cathy - Part 4

Overnight

Cathy's reverie was interrupted by the discovery that she was moving. While she'd been daydreaming, the woman in yellow had come out and was now pushing her to the door. She had a moment to take stock of the woman who was pushing her. She seemed to be in her mid 30's, with straight light brown hair arranged in bangs in front and in a inward-curling page boy cut on the sides. She had good skin and pleasant, regular features. Her expression seemed nice, but distant and bored. When they got inside and the door had closed behind them, the woman spoke up, addressing someone Cathy couldn't see further inside the room. "She's just blue, Ma'am."

Miss Martinez' voice came from behind Cathy. "Well, my dear, it seems as if it was too long a schedule. The Intake staff has all left for the day, so we can't process you girls in and assign you cellmates and so on. Unfortunately, that means that you'll have to spend the night secured in the Intake staging area."

Cathy became aware of motion behind her.

Miss Martinez spoke again. "We'll just get you girls cleaned up and fed and then bed you down for the night. You'll be comfortable here and in the morning you'll be processed into Meridon."

Halleluja, thought Cathy. Out of these damn diapers. I won't have to poop myself after all!

Hands gripped Cathy's shoulders and she felt herself being dragged backwards further in to the room. Its walls were cinderblock, two tone, with a pale olive-green below and white above. Cathy craned her neck and looked around as she was pulled further in to the room. She saw several wheeled beds, rather like hospital gurneys but rather more substantial, along each wall. The dolly stopped. Hands moved to the straps holding Cathy down. Soon she stood, flexing her stiff calfs and thighs, enjoying the relative freedom of motion after the long ride in the van and the interminable time staring at the hallway wall.

Two of the yellow-clad women grasped her arms and began to undo the web of leather that still held them snugly crossed behind her back. Cathy's relief was short-lived, as the two women quickly strapped padded plastic cuffs snugly around her wrists.

"Over here," one of them said, not unpleasantly, pushing her toward one of the wheeled beds. Before she knew what was happening she was lying on the bed and the women had snapped rings on the cuffs to attachments on the sturdy steel frame of the bed.

One of the women quickly pinned her legs while the other wrapped cuffs around her ankles and snapped a clip through the rings, fixing them together. Why hobble me, Cathy wondered, since I'm strapped to the bed by my wrists?

"Mmmph," Cathy protested as one of the women lifted her joined ankles. She caught a glimpse of something shiny and realized that one of the women had just slipped a rectangular pad on to the bed under Cathy's posterior. The woman then pulled Cathy's dress up above her waist while the other one brought what looked like several diapers over and spread them out under Cathy's bottom.

Shit, Cathy thought, they're not letting me out, they're changing me. "Mmmph mmph mmph," Cathy protested.

One of the women pulled Cathy's plastic panties down from around her hips and slid them down just below Cathy's knees. The slightly acrid smell of stale urine reached Cathy's nose. "Mmmph," she protested again.

Within moments the women in yellow had pulled apart the Velcro fasteners at the hips and dropped the sopping diaper into a pail by the side of the bed. Several damp cloth wipes made quick work of the accumulated moisture around Cathy's loins and a dry one was rubbed vigorously around her bottom and crotch.

"We can't have you getting a rash, can we dear," said one of the yellow-clad women as she briskly massaged a generous quantity of some sort of thick ointment into Cathy's crotch and around her bottom, paying careful attention to both orifices in a dispassionately professional way. A quantity of baby powder followed, causing one of the women to sneeze. "Gezundheit," said the other.

In a moment each of what turned out to be three diapers was Velcroed shut around Cathy's hips. The plastic panties were worked back up over her hips, going on with somewhat more effort than they'd come off.

It was only a moment's more work for the women to remove the changing pad from under Cathy's bottom and clip her left ankle to the bed frame. The clip joining her ankles was removed and her right ankle was then attached to the other side of the bed. Cathy was now spreadeagled on the bed. The entire transaction had taken less than five minutes.

Two of the women left, while the remaining one rolled Cathy over to the wall where Cathy could see what looked like two more of the drinking bags hanging from clips high overhead. "Time for a little dinner, darling," said the woman, as she inserted the metal fitting of one of the two hoses into the socket in Cathy's gag. "This will fill you up in a hurry, I think."

The stuff that began to ooze into Cathy's mouth wasn't sweet the way the drink she'd had during the trip had been. It was also rather thicker, though still quite fluid. It tasted bland and slightly gritty, as if it had cornmeal or raw flour blended into it. It seeped into her mouth quite rapidly and she found herself working her jaws rhythmically, albeit not as rapidly as she'd had to earlier, to clear her mouth as it filled up.

The first two women in yellow returned with another girl strapped on a dolly. As they entered the room Cathy twisted her neck to catch a glimpse. It looked like Linda. As Cathy continued to nurse on her "dinner" she watched the three women rapidly and efficiently change Linda and strap her spreadeagled to a bed and start her on her own feeding bag hanging from the wall opposite, just across the room from Cathy.

A few minutes later Mary joined Linda and Cathy. After a rapid diaper change she began working her jaws energetically as she swallowed her evening meal from a location just beyond Cathy's head along the same side of the room.

Shortly after Tamara's changing commenced Cathy was reminded by her nose that Tamara had dirtied herself during the ride. This didn't seem to prolong the diaper change, however, and Tamara was soon attached to a feeding tube along the wall just beyond Cathy's feet.

During Denise's treatment Cathy's feeding tube ran dry. Thank goodness, she thought, I feel really full. I wish they hadn't given me so damn much! While one of the women in yellow attached Denise to her dinner, another came over and removed the plug from Cathy's gag. "Now for a nice soothing drink, dear," said the woman as she clicked the other plug into Cathy's mouth. More of the slightly sweet fluid she remembered from the van ride began to flow into her mouth and she resumed the rhythmic jaw motions now so familiar to her.

Over the next half hour or so the rest of the girls finished their dinners and ended up sucking on the large bags of fluid. After Denise was switched over to liquid things slowed down a bit. To Cathy's dismay, she wasn't done when her fluid bag ran dry. Another one was quickly connected by one of the yellow-clad women and Cathy resumed her suckling.

Finally, after consuming two fluid bags, the women removed the attachment from her gag and carried the bags and tubes away. Over the next half hour or so as the rest of the girls finished up, their feeding apparatus was tidied away as well. Finally only one of the yellow-dressed women remained. She turned down the main lights in the room. By the light of a reading lamp near the door she proceeded on an inspection tour of the five bound and gagged girls.

When she got to Cathy's cot she tugged at the straps holding Cathy's arms and legs spreadeagled to the bed, inspected the gag strap, and checked the seams of Cathy's plastic panties.

"All set, dear," said the woman, "you'll be fine all night. If you need anything, just ask. Don't worry about the diapers. They'll stand anything you can put out and you'll get a change in the morning."

After her tour of the room the matron adjourned to her chair by the door where she picked up a book and began to read quietly. Cathy found herself drowsing off, though not before she heard from the steady breathing of her roommates that they were dozing off too.

Several times during the night Cathy awoke, disoriented. Each time, as she cast her limited senses around in quest of the source of the disturbance, she heard one of the other girls in the final throes of some distress that she could readily imagine. Quiet sizzling signaled the wetting of a diaper somewhere in the room, while a muffled but nonetheless louder Bronx cheer indicated that a bottom was being dirtied underneath a hapless girl. After each disturbance Cathy dozed back off to sleep.

Cathy awoke suddenly from a bad dream. She had been a little girl again and a mean boy had just punched her in the abdomen. Her tummy ached. As her eyes fluttered open she realized that the dream had just been her mind's attempt to cover up the reality that her bowels were full and demanding attention. Cathy "mpphed" through her gag, but the woman reading at the door didn't even look up. "I guess it's my turn to poop myself," Cathy thought. "Damn!"

Resigned to her fate, Cathy began to push quietly. To her surprise, her urinary sphincter released first, flooding her padded crotch with a rush of warm fluid. Before the first rush had abated, however, her lower sphincter relaxed as well and she raised her bottom up from the bed as the beginning of a large movement thrust itself into the seat of her diaper. Moments later she began to smell herself, wrinkling her nose in disgust. A minute later it was all over and Cathy lay spent, tears running from her eyes at the humiliation of having been forced to disgrace herself in this way.

After a long while, Cathy finally fell asleep again.

Intake

Cathy awoke with a start when the lights snapped on.

The morning started with another round of diaper changes. For Cathy this change was more traumatic.

Cathy raised her head as the door opened and a number of the yellow-clad women whom she now knew were the Meridon matrons came in. The women set about systematically changing each of the five girls, much as had been done the previous night. Cathy's bottom was beginning to itch and burn from the extended contact with her poop, so when two of the women came over carrying a changing pad and a basket of supplies she gave them a pathetic smile around her pacifier gag.

One of the matrons attached a short rod equipped with clips at each end and a ring in the center to the D-ring on Cathy's right ankle. Meanwhile the other matron unhooked Cathy's left ankle cuff from the corner of the bed and quickly clipped the other end of the rod to another D ring on the cuff.

Each of the beds that Cathy could see had a metal rod rising several feet from the center of its head. At the top of the rod was what looked like a metal pully, and Cathy could see what looked like a thin metal wire cord running up one side of each rod, through the pully and down to a hook that was attached to another hook affixed to the headboard of the bed. A crank handle low on the headboard seemed to be attached to some sort of machinery into which the other end of the cable disappeared. She was about to discover one of the uses of this machinery.

One of the matrons positioned herself at the head of the bed. Cathy could hear her fiddling with something and suddenly she saw a hand at the end of a yellow-sleeved arm enter her field of view. The hand was holding a chromed hook and pulling it forward toward Cathy's feet. Cathy could hear a sound as if something were turning as the cable extended toward her feet. The other matron grabbed the hook with one hand and continued to pull it toward the foot of the bed while she grabbed the rod joining Cathy's feet together with the other. She attached the hook to the ring at the center of the rod and then slid her hand up the cable, maintaining tension on the cable so that it wouldn't slip off of the ring. Some noise above her head told Cathy that the matron was twisting the crank and suddenly she felt a strong pull on her pinioned ankles.

The cable pulled her ankles up and Cathy was forced to bend her knees and her hips as it ground upward. Cathy mmmphed in protest as the winch continued its inexorable lifting of her hobbled ankles. When the matron stopped Cathy was folded in the middle, with her soiled and itchy bottom elevated, her ankles over her head, and all of her weight on her shoulders. Her diapered crotch with its telltale blue stripe filled her field of view and the smell of her ripening poop made her eyes swim.

One of the matrons put the changing pad on the bed underneath Cathy's bottom and then set about removing Cathy's plastic pants and diapers.

"Whew, this one is really stinky," said the leader as she set about cleaning up Cathy's bottom.

"Yea, verily, sister," agreed the other as she attached the tube from a large feeding bag to Cathy's gag.

As she had the previous evening, Cathy began involuntarily to suck down the viscous and slightly grainy food mixture that flooded her mouth, her cheeks pumping rhythmically. Meanwhile the matron, having finished cleaning up Cathy's bottom, took a handful of a greenish foam that looked to Cathy very like shaving cream from an aerosol bottle.

The matron rubbed the foam all over Cathy's crotch, spreading it high above her pubis and extending it all around to her inner thighs and down to her bottom. As the foam settled in Cathy began to feel a burning heat wherever it touched.

"Mmmmph," she protested, between gulps of the pasty food.

"Don't worry, dear," said the lead matron, "we're just taking care of your dirty hair. It makes it much easier to keep you clean and protects you from infections. You'll thank us once you know what you're avoiding."

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmph," she protested, more emphatically.

The matrons then wiped Cathy clean of the green foam, taking her pubic hair with it and leaving her smooth and clean. After thoroughly cleaning her crotch with moist wipes they spread a coating of soothing ointment on her abused skin.

By now Cathy's food bag was empty, so her gag was quickly connected to the first of two bags of the now-familiar liquid. While one matron laid several clean diapers on the changing pad beneath her abused bottom the other moved around to the head of the bed. With the new diapers in place, the other matron started letting the winch cable out with a noisy clattering of pawls. Cathy's ankles began to lower, and with them her bottom. The matron stopped when Cathy's bottom was firmly on the diaper, at which point the diapers were snugly velcroed shut around her hips. A pair of plastic panties were added and firmly sealed before Cathy's legs were fully lowered to the bed. The winch cable was disconnected from her hobble and returned to its hook at the head of the bed.

The matrons left Cathy and moved on to one of the other girls. Cathy lay in misery staring at the ceiling and listening to the sounds of her fellow prisoners receiving their diaper changes, depillation, and feedings. She continued to suck on the gag as the fluid flowed down her throat. A matron returned to switch her to the final drinking bag, leaving Cathy for another eon of misery. At this point all five of the girls had been changed and fed and were drinking their final bags

While she was still sucking on the second bag Cathy realized that her bladder was signaling fullness. "Shit," she sait to herself, "I wonder if it's just the amount of liquid or if there's something in this drink that makes me pee more." Some time later, the final bag of fluid empty, several matrons went through the room removing each girl from her bed and securing her to another of the dollies in the identical bindings, arms strapped behind the back, that they had experienced the previous evening.

Shortly after she had been secured to the dolly Cathy found herself peeing profusely. She noticed that it seemed this time it had been much easier to start her pee flowing than the first time she'd had to wet just the day before.

A few minutes later Cathy found herself in the hallway staring at the wall again as yellow-dressed women passed this way and that on unknown business.

Time passed. Cathy wet her diaper two more times and heard her neighbors irrigating their own diapers numerous times.

After a while she felt someone grab her by the shoulders and her field of view began to shift. The invisible person behind her shoved her down the hall and through an open door into a large brightly lit room in which Cathy saw a women dressed in the one of the distinctive yellow dresses worn by the matrons.

"OK, let's put her on the examining table and prep her."

The woman in yellow was joined by another, this one a bit younger and with jet black hair pulled back from her face into a bun in back of her head. They quickly and efficiently unstrapped Cathy from the dolly and then led her over to what looked a lot like a gynecological examining table. Now came the first hint of oncoming relief. They spun Cathy around and set about unstrapping the bindings that held her arms so effectively behind her. Before she could enjoy her new freedom, however, they had pulled the pink and white striped shift over head, discarding it in a tall pink hamper that stood near the table. One of them stepped behind her and unhooked her bra while the other one lowered Cathy's plastic panties. After Cathy had stepped out of them, the woman tossed them, along with her bra and the soaked diapers, into the hamper, which she then closed. The brunette then took what looked like a very large baby wipe and proceeded to thoroughly clean Cathy's diaper area, front and back. A dry towel completed the process and Cathy stood there naked but clean. She moved her hands up to the buckle of her gag, but the two women grabbed her arms and instead urged her up onto the examining table.

Now began the departure from her normal experience on such tables. One woman strapped her to the leg supports of the table, leaving her spread quite widely, while the other quickly attached her arms to cuffs at the sides of the table top. A strap across her midriff held her tightly to the table. She was now securely bound to the table.

Now a third woman, one Cathy hadn't seen before, approached the table from out of Cathy's view. She wore a white coat and Cathy assumed that she was a doctor. The woman did in fact examine her, but quickly almost superficially. Unless they take this gag out of my mouth, I can't very well give her my medical history, Cathy thought.

The dark-haired woman in yellow then turned to a counter at the side of the room and returned with something that glinted silvery in the fluorescent light of the room. It was a bracelet that seemed to open with a hinge. She addressed Cathy,

"If you're right-handed, nod your head."

Cathy nodded. The woman moved around the table to Cathy's left arm and snapped the bracelet shut around her wrist. It fit snugly. The woman spoke,

"This bracelet can't be removed. It has an ID code in it that identifies you and that will enable you to do the things that you're permitted to do around here. You'll learn more about its uses and capabilities during the next few weeks as you get acquainted with our ways here."

At this point Cathy noticed that all three of the women in the room with her wore similar bracelets. I guess everyone has an ID bracelet like this, Cathy thought, not just the prisoners.

The dark-haired woman went back to the counter and when she returned Cathy had a shock that had her heart pounding and her breath coming in gasps. In her hands were diapers and plastic panties! Cathy screamed in despair, though nothing emerged from her gagged mouth but a low moan.

In short order Cathy was again diapered, though this time the plastic panties, instead of pulling up her legs, sealed at the sides with velcro strips. Next came a pair of pink mittens that the women worked her hands into. Each finger slipped into a snug place inside the mitten, but the mittens seemed to be unusually stiff. Cathy couldn't move her fingers inside the mittens at all. Each mitten had a strap with a curious metal buckle on it. The matron pulled the strap snug and then pressed her silver bracelet against the buckle, which then emitted a quiet click and seemed to latch shut. The other matron applied her bracelet to similar buckles on the corners of the side panels of Cathy's plastic panties, eliciting more clicks. Finally, a pink-and-white-striped cotton shift, undistinguishable from the one that she'd worn on her ride to Meridon, was produced and lowered over her head.

The two women in yellow then returned Cathy to the dolly in exactly the same position she'd been in before. Her hands were free, though useless because of the stiff mittens, and the cloth disguise over the gag strap had been removed. They wheeled Cathy through a door at the opposite end of the room and down a carpeted corridor and left her outside a wooden door. At least this time they left me looking outward, not just at the wall, thought Cathy. And I'm not wet anymore. Though I wouldn't bet big on my ability to avoid messing my pants, she thought, as her bowels grumbled menacingly.

Cathy looked around. This was clearly executive territory, not the institutional painted cinderblock of her last parking spot. The walls were covered with a dignified cream-colored wallpaper and the baseboards were solid wood, stained a dark brown and polished to a high shine.

Cathy heard voices coming down the corridor. She looked and saw two women, one in a well-cut dark blue suit and the other in a pink-and-white striped shift that told Cathy that she was a prisoner. They were engrossed in intense, quiet conversation which stopped once they got within earshot of Cathy. They turned into an office door on the opposite side of the corridor before they reached Cathy's parking spot.

Cathy then heard the squeaking of wheels from the corridor down which she'd so recently been pushed. The dark-haired woman in yellow appeared, pushing Tamara, presumably now with a nice clean bottom, on a dolly. Tamara's hands sported the same mittens that pinioned Cathy's hands. The pair passed Cathy and moved down the hall and around a corner. As Tamara rolled past her eyes met Cathy's and they exchanged a glance of helpless sympathy.

The door beside which she was parked opened. Cathy whipped her head around to see a tall slender young woman with short light brown hair surveying her new charge. The woman walked around to the far side of Cathy's dolly and put her foot on the side and pushed Cathy into the doorway. She then moved around to stand directly in front of Cathy. She put the toe of her shiny red leather pump on top of the dolly, between Cathy's thighs. The toe dented the front of Cathy's plastic panties, though she didn't actually feel any pressure. The woman leaned forward, pushing Cathy into the room.

Cathy rolled backwards into a large office lined on three sides with handsome book-filled shelves and on the third side by a picture window that looked out over a pastoral view of fields and rolling hills. The woman stepped behind Cathy and grabbed her shoulders, spinning her around so that her captive faced the large executive desk positioned with its back to the window.

The woman went around the desk and seated herself. She picked up a manila folder and extracted a document, which she glanced at before addressing Cathy,

"Catherine Philips?"

Cathy nodded her head.

"Welcome to Meridon Correctional Facility for Young Women. My name is Phyllis Mallory, though you will call me 'Miss Mallory' once you're able to speak. I've been assigned to be your guidance counselor during your stay here. My job is to help you adjust to life at Meridon, advising you on the rules and regulations and answering any questions you might have about getting along while you're here. I'll also be monitoring your progress and making recommendations that bear directly on your comfort, so you will be doing yourself a favor if you pay close attention to what I have to say to you."

Cathy surveyed her guidance counselor. Cathy didn't think Phyllis Mallory was much older than Cathy herself. Five years was Cathy's guess. I wonder how someone comes to be a cog in a machine like this, she thought to herself.

"You won't be able to ask any questions tonight, since you'll remain gagged for at least the first two weeks, but you'll meet with me weekly and if your behavior is good you'll be able to ask questions week after next."

"At Meridon we strive for a cooperative culture in which the girls who live here work hard to improve and we who are responsible for your rehabilitation work hard to help you improve. In order to make it easy for you to tell when you're doing well and when you're not, we have a system of rewards and punishments, focused on your comfort and freedom. Better behavior is rewarded with increasing comfort and increasing freedom, poorer behavior and backsliding results in the withdrawal of privileges and the reduction of comfort."

"We have several dimensions for reward and punishment at Meridon. Your comfort can be increased or decreased by means of your diapers and your feeding. You start at the midpoint of the scale, with relatively thick diapers and moderately infrequent changings. As your behavior improves, we will reduce the thickness of your diapers and increase the frequency of your changes. The ultimate in this direction comes when you're a senior girl and you are admitted to the ranks of the thin. Girls in this class wear the thinnest diapers and are allowed changes whenever they want them. In the other direction, we can make the diapers even thicker and we can adjust your feeding to make your wetting and your messing more frequent and less pleasant, as we also reduce the frequency of changes. The thin girls get to change whenever they need, while girls at the other end of the spectrum are changed only twice a day, once before bedtime and once right after waking up."

"In the freedom dimension you start with very few privileges. As your good behavior is rewarded we will take the gag out of your mouth for increasing periods of time and remove the mittens from your hands. Once you are at the maximum for these two freedoms, we will increase the range of places to which your ID bracelet will let you travel. On the other hand, if you fail to behave appropriately you will be punished with less comfortable gags and reduced freedom of motion. The ultimate in that direction is a very large gag worn almost full time and restriction to the dolly for everything but sleeping."

"Beyond those measures, which we call the primary methods, we have a number of rewards for exemplary behavior. These include getting to share a two-girl cell with a friend, increased visiting privileges, day trips with family to destinations in the area, and ultimately parole opportunities."

"Our rehabilitation program includes three major activities. We have educational services that will enable you to earn anything between a high-school diploma and a bachelor's degree. In addition, we have a number of workshops that support small businesses in which you can work for wages or a share of the proceeds from the sales of products. Finally, we have a variety of recreational sporting activities, adapted to the degree of freedom that you've earned, to help you stay fit and healthy."

"In order to help you adjust as rapidly as possible, your first two months will be spent sharing a cell with a recently promoted "thin" girl. These are our most promising, best adjusted and best behaving girls. We find that these pairings encourage the development of responsibility in the senior girls and of good behavior in the new girls."

"You'll start out gagged with a small gag and wearing thick diapers and receiving two changes a day. Barring behavior problems, you'll rapidly progress to three changes per day and then to medium thickness diapers during the daytime. Your hands will be released from the mittens after you've demonstrated that you can control yourself appropriately. If you behave outstandingly and do well in your classes, you could conceivably reach thin status in about three months, though most girls who actually do make it take between six months and a year to get there. Talking back to a matron, doing poorly in your classes, and fighting are among the misbehaviors that will rapidly result in demotions in comfort and freedom."

"You can't ask any questions this evening, but every girl wants to know the answer to this one. Is there ever a level of freedom that eliminates the diapering and lets you toilet normally? The answer to that question is no. Not until you've served your term or have been paroled will you have that option. There are several reasons for this. The primary reason is cost. This prison is built without toilets or other plumbing in the cells or in any of the prisoner areas. The savings are substantial. Beyond that, we feel that the enforcement of diaper dependency has an extremely beneficial result in rehabilitation. The recidivism rate for alumnae of Meridon and of its sister institutions around the country are the lowest of any comparable facilities anywhere."

"What else do you want to know? Every time we diaper a girl we put a special indicator cloth between the diaper and the plastic panties. A strip of this indicator is treated with a dye that reacts to the chemicals in her pee by turning blue. You'll hear people refer to a girl as being "blue," which means that she's wet. When they say that a girl is "brown," they mean that she has dirtied her pants."

"In a few minutes one of the matrons will take you to be fed and then you'll be put to bed in your cell. Tomorrow will be the beginning of your rehabilitation at Meridon. I wish you the best of luck and I urge you to do your best to use Meridon to improve yourself."

[Cute Baby]

Looking forward to the next stage of her training, sure she may step out of line from time to time

[pampywamp]

Great story so far hope for more soon

[diaperpt]

love this story! (is there a prison like this for men?? ...I'm a bigtime offender!

[CS Fox]

Great story so far. There's been a real lack of the hard and heavy fetish stuff in this community, and I'm glad to see some more of it. I really like that there are multiple girls in diapers in your stories, so that its not just the main character, but she also has these other girls she can co-sympathize with.

[diaper24/7]

Nice chapter getting iteredting.

[fyunch]

Rehabilitating Cathy - Part 5

Withholding

Miss Mallory pressed a button on her intercom and then began to examine papers on her desk. Cathy was dismissed. A few moments later the door to the office opened and Cathy saw, by twisting her head around, one of the yellow-clad matrons enter. Her dolly ride led her back to the carpeted corridor and along it to a pair of grey metal double doors. On the other side and perpendicular to the corridor from which she emerged, was a long wide cinderblock corridor floored with painted concrete. The matron pushed her along to another larger pair of double doors from which a muted clatter issued.

Through these doors, Cathy discovered, was the cafeteria where all of the girls ate. She got a confused impression of girls dressed in pink stripes sitting at long tables. Her captor pushed her over to the side where a number of other girls sat, some on dollies and some on benches, all attached by thick hoses to bulging plastic bags hanging from overhead racks. She looked around. All of the girls were dressed in short pink-striped cotton dresses, so short that the skirts never failed to reveal the bulging waterproof panties that contained the diapers all the girls wore. As Cathy surveyed the crotches she could see, she noted that the majority of them exhibited the blue stripe that, she now knew, indicated that the diaper inside was wet.

The woman unbuckled Cathy's gag but didn't remove it. Cathy tried working her jaw and was beginning to persuade it to move when the guard returned and yanked it from her mouth. Cathy spread her jaws in relief, only to have her mouth invaded suddenly by a much larger gag, which was quickly strapped in place behind the nape of her neck.

The yellow-clad guard then hooked a bulging ivory bag to the rack over Cathy's head and led a thick hose from it to a fixture in the front of her gag. With a click, Cathy was suddenly presented with a flow of soft, mushy, flavorless paste. She couldn't prevent it from oozing from the various large holes in the sides of her gag, so she was again forced into the rhythmic swallowing that she'd experienced in before. Once she'd gotten the hang of it, she looked around. She recognized Mary and Linda on dollies not far from her, jaws working steadily as they nursed at their thick bags of mush. Linda's indicator stripe was blue, but Mary's was not. From time to time one of the women in yellow would check the bags and the diners. Each time one of the big ivory bags emptied out, she'd replace it with a clear bag that looked like water. When Cathy's bag sagged and emptied and was replaced, the fluid that began to flow rapidly into her mouth was the same slightly sweet liquid that she'd sipped in the van.

After Cathy's fluid bag emptied she sat there for a while as the dining room emptied out. A woman in yellow unhooked Linda's feeding tube and replaced her gag with a smaller one and then pushed her on her dolly out of the room through the double doors in the center of the long side of the room. A few minutes later the same woman returned and disconnected Cathy's tube and began pushing her toward the door. As she rolled out through the door she glanced back at the feeding area. She noticed that Mary's diaper now sported a blue stripe. As they moved down the echoing corridor, Cathy looked around curiously, trying to take everything in. They passed a glass door on the right that was marked "Changing Room". Through the glass she could see Linda on her back on a large changing table with her legs up in the air, ankles joined by a hobble bar like the one Cathy had worn that morning raised high by a winch cable descending from somewhere out of view above. Her plastic panties were off but Cathy couldn't tell whether the wet diaper had been replaced before she was pushed out of view.

Cathy's guard pushed her along endless corridors, turning here and there until Cathy was completely lost. Finally she stopped at a barred door and placed her ID bracelet against a rectangular silver plate at doorknob height on the wall next to the door. A loud click and the woman in yellow pushed Cathy's dolly against the door, which swung inward silently. She pushed Cathy into the center of the cell, turned her around so that she faced the door. The guard took a piece of note paper from her pocket and wrote on it for a moment. She put the note into the patch pocket sewn into the front of Cathy's dress, just above the top of the diaper, pausing a moment to reach down and pat Cathy's defenseless crotch with her hand, and then left, closing the door behind her.

Now I wait, thought Cathy. I wonder what's next.

Cathy waited, rather uncomfortably, on the dolly. Time passed very slowly. She dozed off, waking from time to time to empty her bladder.

She woke to the click of the opening door. A matron came in, pulled up Cathy's skirt and inspected her diaper. The woman first prodded the front of Cathy's diaper and then reached around behind her and felt her bottom, obviously checking for signs that Cathy had dirtied herself.

"Changing time," said the woman as she wheeled Cathy out into the hallway and down to the changing room. After a brief but nonetheless humiliating visit to the changing room, Cathy found herself in a fresh diaper returned to the dolly and rolling back into the cell where she'd already spent many hours.

After a short while the lights in the corridor dimmed. Cathy heard the sounds of chattering girls in the distance, increasing in volume to signal their closer approach. She began to hear the sounds of doors opening and closing. The door of Cathy's cell gave a distinct click. The light from the corridor was suddenly reduced as a girl appeared in front of the door. The girl, a tall brunette whose slim shapely legs descended from below the hem of her skirt, pushed in through the cell door, closing it behind her. She was carrying a large satchel over her shoulder. She walked over, took the note from the pocket of Cathy's dress, and read it.

"Hi, Cathy Philips," said the brunette girl. "My name is Jessica Netley. You and I are going to be roommates."

The cell was a good size, maybe seventeen by thirteen feet. The walls were cinderblock, painted with a glossy two-tone green pattern. From the middle upward was a pale green, while the lower half was a darker shade. The ceiling was white. A small window occupied the geometric center of the wall opposite the cell door. Two narrow beds, unmade, occupied the corners farthest from the door, each with its headboard pointed away from the door. Each bed had a mattress of the institutional type that Cathy had grown accustomed to in her last home. It was a normal matteress size, but it was only about four inches thick and quite firm. On top of each mattress was a pillow and a stack of neatly folded linen. Cathy's new roommate, for that's who she was, set about making the two beds.

"I'll take this bed," Jessica said, dropping her satchel on one. "Not that you have much to say about it at this point, of course," she remarked with a grin.

Jessica walked back around and stood with her back to the door, facing Cathy, "I was just promoted to 'thin' today. Wanna see?"

Not waiting for a reply, she pulled up the skirt of her shift, revealing pink plastic panties bisected by a blue stripe. Cathy gathered that this girl was wearing thin diapers. I can't say that they are obviously thinner than any of the other diapers I've seen, Cathy thought. I'm sure they feel different when you wear them.

"Since you're going to be wearing the mittens for at least a week, I'll have to make the beds for both of us. You should be grateful. Only newbies get such posh treatment. You have to fold the corners very neatly, hospital style. They don't inspect at night, but it's always good to keep in practice. If they find your bed poorly made two days in a row, you loose one level of comfort. That means if you're in light diapers, you go to heavy, or if you're in heavy, you go to double overnight. Or you might go from a thin gag to a thick one. Or if you've got multiple changings per day, you could lose one."

"We just had evening free time, which we have every night after dinner and before last change. Now we have an hour in the cell to relax and get ready for last change. After last change, which usually takes about an hour, there's a final hour before lights out. We don't have a TV or a radio, but I do have some books. You can't very well read with your hands like that, but if you like, I'll read to you."

By now Cathy was wondering if she'd have to sleep attached to the dolly.

"Oh my goodness," said Jessica, "where are my manners. Here I am rattling on and doing housework and there you are strapped to the dolly."

With that Jessica unhooked the various straps that secured her new roommate to the dolly and helped her rise. While Cathy flexed her legs and massaged life back in to them, Jessica took the now unoccupied dolly and leaned it against the wall by the door of the cell.

"I'll bet that feels better," said Jessica. "You're lucky. When they brought me here they dropped me in my cell just after breakfast. By the time Susan came in after dinner I was so wet and poopy I thought I was going to die."

Jessica pulled up Cathy's skirt. "You're not blue, so I guess you got changed pretty recently, huh?"

Cathy nodded.

"Well, that's nice. Anyway, you'll like it here. People are nice and once you get used to the diapers, it's not so bad. The teachers in the college program are excellent. When I get out of here, I'll be only fifteen credits short of my B.A. And my mom and dad visit me every weekend. Are you a college student?"

Cathy nodded.

"Hey, great. I'd love to know what your major is. Mine is Fine Art, with a special interest in the decorative crafts of the seventeenth century. I can't imagine that's your major?"

Cathy shook her head. Suddenly she heard a click from the door.

"That's last change. We'd better hurry if we don't want to spend an hour in line," said Jessica as she opened the now-unlocked door of their cell. As they exited Jessica moved the dolly to the hallway side of the door.

Jessica led Cathy down the hallway to the large changing room at the end of the corridor where Cathy had been recently. They'd moved quickly and their room occupied one of the preferred positions closer to the changing room, so their wait was only a few minutes. The changing room about double the size of a cell and contained two changing tables. The walls were lined with counters and shelves. There were four women in yellow, two at each changing table.

As the two preceding changees left, Jessica led Cathy into the room, pushing her toward one of the tables and going herself to the other. Jessica addressed the women in the room as she got up onto her changing table on her back,

"I'm blue. Cathy doesn't seem to be blue or brown, but she just got changed, I think."

The women in blue guided Cathy to her changing table and pushed her back on to it, lifting her up so that her bottom was at the foot of the table. In short order they had removed her plastic panties, unlocking the little metal clasps with their ID bracelets. They removed her diaper, which was still completely dry and clean, replacing it with a new one that Cathy almost immediately realized was much larger and thicker than the one she'd been wearing. As they replaced the plastic panties, Cathy thought to herself, I guess these are what they call night diapers.

The women helped her up from the table and Jessica joined her at the door and led her back to their cell, whose door still gaped open. Inside, Jessica closed the door behind them.

"Comfortable?" asked Jessica.

Cathy shrugged her shoulders. Jessica looked concerned. She stepped forward and quickly lifted Cathy's skirt. She bent down and inspected Cathy's diaper, running her fingers gently along each of the seams where the elastic hem of the plastic panty pulled close to Cathy's soft skin.

"Everything looks OK from the outside," said Jessica. "Does it hurt?"

Cathy shook her head. No, it didn't hurt.

"Is it binding somewhere?"

Cathy shook her head again.

"I can't figure out what's wrong. Should I call for a warden. She can ungag you and you can tell us what's wrong. Of course, if she decides it's not important enough to have bothered her, we'll both be punished."

Cathy shook her head emphatically. No, don't call the warden, she thought silently. I'm simply uncomfortable because I'm wearing diapers, not because there's anything else wrong with them.

"OK, then I guess you're OK?"

Cathy nodded.

"Great! We can read a book for a few minutes before lights out if you like. Why don't we get you into bed and I'll come sit on the side of your bed and read to you. That way when the lights go out you don't have to try to get into bed with your hands like that."

Jessica pulled Cathy's blanket and the top sheet down. Cathy sat on the bed and put her mittened hands down. She swung her feet up from the floor and inserted them under the top sheet and covers that Jessica was holding up for her. Cathy slid down in the bed, feeling the slick frictionless movement of her bottom as the plastic panties slid across the cotton sheet. Jessica pulled the blanket up, settling it snugly across Cathy's breasts and under her upraised arms.

"Sleep tight, Cathy," said Jessica. "See you in the morning."

Cathy tried to respond, but only produced a mumbled grunt from behind her gag.

Jessica stepped to the desk that stood at the foot of her bed and returned with a book. She opened it to a page marked with a bookmark and began to read aloud in a pleasant well-modulated voice. Cathy had a hard time concentrating on the book. The story was one that she didn't know, Jessica was in the middle of it, and Cathy's bladder was demanding urgent attention.

Not long after Jessica had begun to read, Cathy's bladder gave up the fight and she began to wet. Cathy didn't want to embarass herself by attracting Jessica's attention to her state, so she held her breath as she began to pee and only resumed breathing after she felt the flow had stabilized. Within minutes the wetness felt like it had spread across her entire bottom.

A few minutes later the lights dimmed. Jessica put the bookmark back and returned the book to her desk. Just as the lights went out altogether, she got into her bed, pulling the sheets up.

"Goodnight, sweetie," said Jessica. Cathy mmmphed in reply. After a while she slept.

It was dark. Where was she? As awareness returned, Cathy remembered Meridon prison, her long van ride, her roommate, and, finally, her diapers. Her bladder was very full again. She flooded her diapers for the second time, feeling the warmth concentrate around her bottom, as the bulk of the pee flowed downward. Afterwards she tried to get back to sleep, but something felt wrong. Finally she noticed that Jessica's breathing wasn't regular. Cathy wondered at the source of the faint irregularity in her roommate's breathing. Suddenly she heard a quiet bubbling sound, like a child playing with finger paint in the distance. After a minute or two, Jessica heaved a long quiet sigh and rolled over, causing a slight creaking from the bedsprings. A few minutes later Cathy caught a faint scent that put it all together for her. Her roommate had just soiled her diapers! The mystery explained, Cathy slipped off into a deep sleep.

"Wake up, sleepyhead"

Jessica was shaking Cathy by the elbow. It was morning. Light was streaming into the cell through the window at the end opposite the doorway. Cathy felt the soggy heaviness of her diapers. She smelled Jessica's dirty diaper.

"Quick, get up! Get over to the door. The matrons are coming down the hall for morning inspection and Heaven help you if you're caught sleeping!"

Heart pounding, Cathy made it to the door and stood next to Jessica. Jessica was standing facing the door with her legs slightly spread. She had lifted the skirt of her shift up to her hips, exposing her diapers and plastic pants. Cathy could see the blue stripe that ran from Jessica's waistband down out of sight between her's crotch. Jessica's diapers didn't seem any thinner that her own, Cathy noticed. I thought she was a thin. Jessica noticed Cathy's gaze.

"At night all girls get thick diapers. Thin really just means thin in the daytime," Jessica said.

"Lift your skirt for inspection," whispered Jessica intensely. Cathy could hear the guards coming slowly down the hall. They were a couple of cells away. Cathy scrabbled at her skirt with her mittened hands, finally managing to pull it up to her hips.

Suddenly Cathy felt a hand on her thickly padded bottom. Jessica reached up underneath Cathy's skirt from behind and quickly and firmly probed in between her bottom cheeks, pressing the damp cloth of Cathy's diaper up into the crack. Cathy dropped her skirt and turned sharply, glaring at Jessica.

"Get back in position before they get here! I'm sorry I did that, but there's no time to explain. Hurry!"

Confused and outraged, but unwilling to risk provoking her roommate or the guards outside, Cathy returned to position and clumsily lifted her skirt again.

Two yellow-clad guards appeared at the cell door. One of them carried a clipboard and the other had a club. "Inspection," said the woman with the baton.

Jessica spoke, "she's blue and I'm brown, ma'am."

The clipboard woman made some notes. "A new girl with you, Jessica," she said. "Hmmm ... not brown since yesterday morning. Possible withholding. You'd better explain things to her. First change in five minutes." The two guards moved off.

Jessica dropped her skirt and relaxed, turning to Cathy. Cathy stepped back from the door, trying to smooth out her skirt with her mittened hands. She felt the warm wet heaviness of her diaper as it bunched between her thighs as she stepped back to her bed and sat down on the edge.

"Do you have to poop?" asked Jessica.

Cathy nodded.

"Bad?"

Cathy nodded again.

"Well, you better do it right away. You only have a few minutes before first change." Cathy looked at her quizzically.

"Cathy," said Jessica, "as a new girl you only get changed twice a day, once just after getting up and once right before going to bed. If you don't poop now, you'll be much better off holding it until after dinner tonight. Do you think you can do that?"

Cathy shook her head.

"You'll have almost fifteen hours with the diaper that you're going to get put into in the next few minutes. If you haven't pooped since before yesterday morning, then you've probably got quite a load waiting. They'll have no pity on you. If you mess yourself after first change, you'll be walking around with dirty panties until late this evening. Also, if you're not brown by tomorrow morning, they'll decide that you're withholding. That means you're deliberately holding your poop in, which is dangerous. If they decide you're withholding they'll put a laxative suppository into your bottom at first change and you'll really regret that!"

Cathy was terrified, but she couldn't bring herself to deliberately soil herself. As Cathy struggled with her dilemma, Jessica spread her knees slightly and crouched down a few inches. Cathy watched in puzzlement as Jessica took a deep breath and held it, clenching her fists. Suddenly Cathy heard a quiet sizzling from under Jessica's skirt. She was wetting herself, and quite deliberately too!

Jessica stood up and smiled at Cathy. "Never pays to have anything in your bladder at first change, even if you're a thin and can get changed anytime you like. Maximize dry time, I always say."

The door clicked.

"That's first change," said Jessica. "Let's get a move on or we'll have to stand in line."

They pulled open the door and stepped out into the corridor. Other girls were emerging from their cells, but Jessica and Cathy were already moving rapidly down the corridor toward the changing room.

As they waited their turn, Jessica turned to chat with another girl in line behind them. Cathy tried to concentrate on releasing her bowels, but with the interruptions of the regular forward motion of the line and her own ambivalence to the project, she was unable. Finally, just before she got to the front of the line Cathy managed to release her bladder, flooding her already soaked diaper with more warm pee.

Breakfast was almost identical to the previous evening's dinner, except that this morning she was permitted to sit on a bench rather than being strapped to a dolly. The matron in charge of her table removed her small gag and strapped a much larger one in before attaching her to the bag of tasteless pasty food. Cathy was much more comfortable with her diapers dry and recently changed. The ointment and powder rubbed into her sensitive groin during the diaper change had improved her disposition, not to mention her state of arousal.

I can't believe they give me this much to eat and drink for breakfast each morning, mused Cathy. I don't have this much capacity. Already her bladder, so recently emptied, was beginning to contend with her bowels for painful attention.

Cathy was waiting to be released from the now empty fluid bag when Jessica, who'd been off across the room chatting with a short redheaded girl, returned to their bench and sat down next to Cathy.

"I checked your schedule. It's posted over there on the bulletin board, in case you need it. You have Algebra and History this morning. After lunch you have some visitors and in the afternoon you have your first soccer practice. You're lucky you have visitors. That means that you'll get changed after lunch today instead of having to wait until dinner time. I've arranged for you to practice with my team. That girl over there is our captain, Melissa Argolis. Come on, I'll take you to your Algebra room, B24. No point worrying about a notebook or a pen, with your hands in those."

Cathy stood in line outside the door of the Algebra room to which Jessica had brought her. Her linemates were all girls of about the same age, though only one of the others was gagged and none of them wore mittens on her hands. Her attention was increasingly focused on keeping her diaper clean and dry. She would have willingly wet herself to release the pressure and eliminate the pain from that part of her crotch, but her first tentative effort in that direction had told her that she had reached the point beyond which she couldn't wet without soiling herself as well.

A loud clanging clatter exploded suddenly just above her head. Cathy jumped in shock. Bells scattered around the hallways announced the beginnings and ends of the 50-minute-long class periods, and Cathy's place on line had put her, unsuspecting, underneath one. As the girls to her left began to troop into the room, Cathy became aware of a difference in her diaper. The cacophony of the bell had frightened her into completely losing control. She had emptied her bowels into the seat of her diaper before the bell had finished ringing. As she stood stunned and weeping in the line, her bladder continued to drain into her now soaking diaper.

After Algebra class Cathy stood in the hallway outside the classroom wondering where her History class was. The gag made asking for help problematical. I wonder what punishment they'll give me for cutting class, she thought. Finally, she remembered Jessica's comment about seeing her schedule on the bulletin board in the Cafeteria.

She retraced her steps and found the Cafeteria. The warm, wet diaper would have been uncomfortable by itself, but with the large sticky mass spread across the seat it was almost unbearable. She finally found the schedule bulletin board. There were six large boards, each covered with small index cards labelled with girls' names. Fortunately the names were in alphabetical order, so Cathy was able quickly to find her own schedule. Her schedule for the week was laid out on the card. She found Tuesday morning and discovered that History was in room C17. OK, Cathy thought, Algebra was in B24, so all I have to do is find the C corridor.

Not long after, she found herself at the door of C17. She looked in through the glass window at the class, which was well underway from the amount of chalk writing on the blackboard in front. Oh great, Cathy thought, the door is right up front. No chance for me to slip in unobtrusively.

She grasped the doorknob clumsily between her mittened hands. After the third try she was able to rotate the smooth brass knob sufficiently to push it open. It opened abruptly and she staggered into the room, suddenly silent.

She stared at the teacher and then turned toward the back of the room, looking around to find an empty chair. The chairs were standard classroom furniture, light wooden seats with a small wooden notebook rest all held together with thin bent steel tubes. Cathy noticed that between the construction of the chairs and the brevity of the girls' skirts, she could see almost every diaper in the room. She didn't have time to count, but she was sure that the majority exhibited blue stripes.

[diaperpt]

whew! for a second, I thought cathy was going to end up with a suppository right away...'saved by the bell' took on a whole new meaning, didn't it?

great story! I can't wait for the next installment!

[fyunch]

Rehabilitating Cathy - Part 6

Visitors

After the end of history class Cathy joined the general rush to the cafeteria for lunch. Most of the girls queued up at changing rooms for their midday change. Cathy was unsure of whether she should line up for a change now or whether some special arrangement would be made before her visitors. After wavering, she got on to a relatively short line at the last changing room before the entrance to the cafeteria. In short order she was beckoned into the room. The yellow-jumpsuited matron impatiently grabbed her left hand and pressed her ID bracelet against a white circle on the side of a computer monitor. The screen flickered and Cathy could make out her name in large letters at the top of the window. After a quick glance, the matron said,

"You don't normally get changed now, but since you have visitors, you're lucky."

The woman reached under Cathy's skirt and probed her bottom. Cathy winced as the hard push of her fingers spread the mushy poop around her sensitive skin.

"OK, you're brown, so get over there to the shower."

Cathy stepped to the rear corner of the changing room where a stall shower stood. The matron quickly stripped the shift over Cathy's head, removed her bra, pulled her slipon shoes off of her feet, and pushed her into the shower. The matron pressed her ID bracelet against the catches of Cathy's plastic panties and they snapped undone. She pulled the pink plastic away from Cathy's crotch and dropped it into a hamper standing near the shower. Then she undid the velcro holding the diaper so snugly to Cathy's bottom. With a sloppy plop and a rush of foul smell, the diaper fell to the floor of the shower. The Matron rolled it up gingerly and lifted the soiled diaper and dropped it into the hamper. She turned on the shower, which flooded Cathy with lukewarm water, and said,

"Get it all off of you. Since your hands are in mittens, I'll wash you after you've gotten the worst of the poop off."

Cathy turned this way and that, letting the jet of water do the bulk of the work. Finally the matron reached in with a washcloth and a large bar of orange-colored soap and began to roughly wash Cathy down. In short order Cathy was clean and rinsed, and the matron turned off the water. She quickly rubbed Cathy down with a hard gray towel and then she motioned Cathy over to the changing table. Cathy mounted the table meekly and the matron quickly spread lotion on her loins and efficiently diapered her. After slipping the pink plastic panties up and briskly inspecting the seams, she helped Cathy back into her bra, shoes, and dress.

Cathy made her way to the cafeteria, where lunch was well under way. She walked over to the area where, by now, she knew that gagged girls were fed. The matron there removed her gag but rather than immediately regagging her with a larger feeding gag, she led Cathy over to a small sink mounted on the wall of an alcove. There she proceeded to brush Cathy's teeth with a disposable toothbrush. The toothpaste tasted awful, but Cathy was grateful for the attention to oral hygiene. She tried to ask the matron a question, but she was brusquely hushed.

With a feeding gag inserted, Cathy was led over to a bench and seated. Instead of the usual first course of mushy food, Cathy's first bag was fluid. After absorbing a quart of liquid, she was attached to a bag of tasteless gloppy semisolid food. Hey, she thought, variety! I can go for that. To her surprise, after finishing the food, she was treated to a second quart of liquid. As she drank the second bag of liquid she looked at the girls around her, jaws moving rhythmically as they nursed at their lunches.

By the time the matron removed her thick feeding gag and replaced it with the thinner regular gag, Cathy's bladder was sending up smoke signals. As Cathy walked over to the schedule bulletin board to find out where she should go next, the pressure of the thick padding between her legs and the friction from the rubber panties on the insides of her thighs began to produce a sense of liquidity that wasn't pee.

Cathy finally found her way to the visiting rooms. They were near the intake center and the panelled offices of the warden and the guidance counselors. It took her longer to get there than it should have, but she couldn't ask for directions with her mouth gagged. Cathy presented herself to the guard at the doorway to the suite of visiting rooms, who looked Cathy's number up on her computer.

"You're a little early, but the room you've been assigned is empty so I'll put you there. You're new here, aren't you?"

Cathy nodded.

"OK, I'll explain the drill to you. We have two sorts of visitor rooms. One is a limited contact room, which we use for high risk girls, for visits with lawyers or people who aren't family members, and for new girls who are still restrained, as you are. The other is for less limited contact. When you've graduated to a higher comfort level we'll begin letting you have meetings with your family in there. The ultimate in privilege is when you are allowed to meet in the family contact room with your boyfriend, if you have one. Got a sweetheart?"

Cathy blushed and looked down.

"Never mind. Anyway, at this point in your development you're only allowed visits by immediate family members in the limited contact room. Come this way."

The woman in the yellow jumpsuit led her through a doorway and down a short hallway. She ushered Cathy into a small room that was bisected by a low wall surmounted by a glass panel that reached up to the ceiling. On Cathy's side of the room was a chair facing the dividing wall. On the other side were four identical chairs. The visitors' side of the room could only be entered by a door on the wall opposite from the one that Cathy had been brought in by.

"When your family gets here this afternoon," said the guard, "they'll be brought into the other side of this room. You can hear and see each other pretty well, but no physical contact is allowed at this stage."

"Remember that we'll be monitoring you over the closed circuit TV system and that any untoward behavior will be noticed and dealt with appropriately. Do you understand?"

Cathy nodded soberly.

"All right, I'll be back when it's time to take you back inside."

The guard left the small room, locking the door behind her. Cathy sat quietly waiting for her parents to arrive. It's a good thing I don't have to worry about a bathroom, thought Cathy, since I can't summon any help from in here.

Time dragged. Cathy struggled to stay dry. I don't want them to see me in a wet diaper, Cathy said silently to herself. The pressure in her bladder and the consequent heat in her loins increased steadily.

A remote clatter signalled the arrival of her visitors. A guard in a yellow jumpsuit led the way into the room, followed closely by Cathy's mother and her father. Cathy drank them in with her eyes and they stared equally hungrily at her. The matron said, gesturing toward a clock on the wall in the visitors' side of the room,

"OK, folks, remember what the warden told you. You have an hour. I'll come back when your time is up."

The next hour was a treat and a torture for Cathy. She had wanted so much to be closer to home so that she could visit with her mother and father, but the reality was so different from her original desire. She wasn't sure she'd have done it if she'd known what she'd have to give up to get here.

"Oh, sweetie," gushed her mom, "it's so good to see you. Your dad and I have missed you so much. Cindy was so disappointed that she wasn't allowed to come to see you today. Brad sends his love, I talked with him this morning. He can't wait until he's allowed to come visit you here. He's been miserable since you went away, dear, he really loves you. We have him over to dinner almost every Sunday evening."

"Everyone here seems very nice. They told us that for the first couple of visits you'd be gagged like that, but that it's only part of the initial training process and that if you're well-behaved you'd be able to talk with us within a couple of weeks."

Cathy drifted away as her mother chattered on, talking of the doings of friends, relatives, and acquaintances. Cathy looked at her father, beaming at her from her mother's side. You'd think they were visiting me at college, not prison, thought Cathy.

Cathy noticed that the low wall dividing the room cut off her view of her parents from mid-torso downward. My goodness, she thought, they can't see my diapers. I wonder what the warden told them about the training process. Maybe they don't know. I can't imagine they'd be smiling so blissfully if they knew that I've been set to spend the rest of my sentence wetting and soiling my pants.

Cathy returned to her mother's rapid-fire narrative of aunts, uncles, cousins, and more distant relatives. The news brought her out of the prison and her predicament and back to the world that she'd so recently and so heedlessly inhabited.

Cathy saw a yellow-clad matron walking down the corridor beyond her parents. She was astonished to see her open the door behind them and enter. I thought we had an hour, thought Cathy. Why's she back so soon? As her parents rose from their chairs, repeating goodbyes and blowing kisses to her, she realized that an hour had passed. She lifted her bound hand and mimed blowing a kiss to her parents with her gagged mouth. As they walked down the hallway back toward their car and their drive home, Cathy's attention was forcibly returned to her aching bladder.

Cathy clenched her legs together in an effort to forestall the inevitable. She folded her arms and began rocking up and down as she struggled to stay dry. The pressure on her breasts told her that her nipples were erect and hard. As she rocked back and forth she rhythmically clenched and relaxed her inner thigh muscles. She was getting more and more aroused. The sexual feeling wasn't helping her resist the pressure in her bladder, but she couldn't stop the mounting tension in her loins.

Finally Cathy's tortured bladder gave way, starting the flood into her thirsty diaper and tearing a muffled moan from her mouth. As she wet, she was overcome by a massive shuddering orgasm that seemed to last an eternity.

[Cute Baby]

Good way this story is continuing, hope it does for some time yet.

[diaperpt]

Such a mix of shame and embarassment, yet growing pleasure!

I'm looking forward to more of your great writing, wondering if her parents and family will eventually find out about her diapered state, whether she will be good enough to continue an upward mobility within the prison or will be punished - or if we'll at least witness others being punished, and how she'll feel about herself and her treatment as she continues her incarceration.

I even wonder what an eventual transition out of this prison might look like. After such a long time diapered, I wonder if some inmates may either be unable or unwilling to make a transition out of diapers... oh, the possibilities!!

But I don't mean to steer the story in any way, really. Write what you have in your mind, let it go wherever you feel it should. But do continue to write!!! This is a great story!

[dldad]

A great story indeed, and look forward to further chapters.

[fyunch]

Rehabilitating Cathy - Part 7

The Sporting Life

"Are you Cathy?" asked a slender, compact dark-haired girl. Cathy remembered that Jessica had pointed her out earlier in the cafeteria, identifying her as the captain of the soccer team to which Cathy had been assigned.

Cathy looked at her and nodded. "How do you to," she said, taking Cathy's mittened hand and shaking it somewhat awkwardly. "I'm Melissa Argolis. I'm captain of the Pop Tarts, the best soccer team at Meridon, if I don't say so myself," Melissa said with a self-deprecating grin. Cathy tried to smile at her around the intrusion in her mouth, managing to distort the corners of her mouth around the strap in a grimace that would have been gruesome under other circumstances.

"Have you ever played soccer," asked Melissa.

Cathy nodded emphatically and mmphed to emphasize.

"I take it that you do play soccer and that you like it," said Melissa. "Are you any good?"

If Cathy had had her voice available she might have said something self-deprecating that would indicate her sense that she was a competent soccer player but also convey her own humility and modesty in order to impress her new captain with her intention to work hard and earn a spot on the team. But with the gag in her mouth limiting Cathy to inarticulate mmmphing, she was perplexed at how to convey her eagerness to play and her belief that she had something to contribute. At last she stopped, turned to face Melissa straight on and nodded her head slowly while looking directly in the captain's eyes.

"Cool," exclaimed Melissa. "I'll try you in the midfield on mixed offense and defense and see how you do."

"Come walk with me. We have to get to the gym and out to the field and it's a bit of a trek. While we walk I'll explain how soccer works here at Meridon."

Melissa led Cathy down a long corridor and onto a wider corridor. At the end of the main corridor was a large double door opening to the outside of the building, the first time Cathy had been outside since her arrival the previous evening.

Paved paths led away from the door in several directions. A pair of paths proceeded left and right along the facade of the building. Another path headed out into the surrounding gardens. Melissa set of briskly down that path. The grounds surrounding the main building were attractively landscaped with scattered deciduous trees, clumps of shrubbery, and scattered flowerbeds here and there.

As they walked Cathy learned that at Meridon, soccer was played pretty much according to international standard rules. With a few modifications.

Standard international soccer has penalties known as "yellow card" for caution and "red card" for a penalty severe enough to send the player out of the game.

Meridon soccer has yellow and red cards, but also had two special versions reflecting the special conditions endured by the players. In addition to red and yellow, Meridon referees could award blue and brown cards. A blue card, rarely ever awarded, sidelined a player for five minutes. A brown card, however, sent a player off for the rest of the game. Needless to say, Melissa explained, the blue and brown cards were keyed to the player's diaper condition.

Melissa then went on to explain to Cathy the landscape of the intramural soccer competition at Meridon. Their team was the Pop Tarts. In addition to theirs, there were three other strong teams. One was called the Blue Streaks, another the Seven Ups, and one more called the Luvs. There were other teams within Meridon, and there were teams at other prisons, but the name of the game was beating the intramural rivals, particularly the Blue Streaks, with whom the Pop Tarts usually competed for the Meridon soccer championship.

"The soccer season is pretty long here and is broken into a regular season, during which our teams play both intramural games against other Meridon teams, and intermural games against three other prisons and five schools in our region that make up our league."

Cathy looked at Melissa in surprise. Schools, she wondered to herself. Are there schools that let their girls play against prison inmates? And what do they say about the fact that the prisoners from Meridon are in diapers?

"Just like in most sports leagues, the most important games are the playoffs after the regular season. Meridon gets to send its top two teams to the playoff ladder, since we're so big. Some of the other schools only get to send one."

"One of the reasons that it's important to play well in the intramural games and in the regular season is the brown card rule."

Cathy looked inquisitively at Melissa.

"Well, years ago one of the schools figured out an way to cheat. They equipped all of their best girls with special plugs in their bottoms during the game that kept them from pooping. Needless to say, once the word got out that they were doing this, the other schools got mighty pissed off."

"After a lot of arguing back and forth among the schools, it was agreed that each team in the playoffs would get a number of plugs determined by how well they had done in the regular season. They decided to do this because it gave the regular season games some real value beyond just determining who are top two teams that get to go to the playoffs."

The path they were following intersected an asphalt-paved street after several minutes of walking. To Cathy's untrained eye the street looked too narrow for two lanes of traffic.

At the intersection of the path and the street was a paved area sporting a lamp post, an emergency telephone, and a park bench. Melissa sat on the bench and Cathy followed suit. Within a few minutes a small bus rolled up. It had seating for perhaps twenty passengers and was driven by another of the omnipresent yellow-clad matrons. Melissa led the way on to the bus, which had a number of other girls and one other matron already in seats.

The bus pulled away and proceeded along the asphalt roadway. Cathy saw no other vehicles and after a few minutes they approached a large building with a high curved roof.

"Here's the gym," said Melissa.

The bus pulled into a semicircular driveway in front of the gym and all of the passengers trooped off. Cathy looked expectantly at Melissa.

"Come on, I'll take you to the matron here. She'll get you fixed up for practice. Once you're out of those mittens you'll be expected to take care of yourself, but for the first couple of weeks they'll sort you out."

Melissa led Cathy into front door of the gym. The big double doors let into a modest foyer lined with glass cases filled with tropies and photographs of girls in various sporting poses. Plaques adorned the trophies, though Cathy couldn't catch more than a glipmpse of what they said.

"This way," said Melissa, taking Cathy by the hand and conducting her through the doors in the far side of the foyer, which led into a wide hallway. Turning right she brought Cathy through a pair of doors that led into a large locker room. To Cathy's surprise, the lockers had no doors and seemed to contain no clothing. Some of them seemed to hold various items of equipment, Cathy spotted a number of Lacrosse sticks and numerous pairs of sneakers, some with cleats on their soles.

Melissa led Cathy up to a tough-looking matron seated behind a table. "Here's a newbie, Miss Dellin. Her name is Cathy Philips. She's assigned to the Pop Tarts, of course, or some other captain would have brought her in."

Addressing Cathy again, Melissa said, "I've got to run out to the field or Coach Spears will kill me, or worse. Miss Dellin is tough but she takes good care of us athletes, so cooperate with her. She'll tell you where to go once she's gotten you ready for practice. I'll see you on the field."

Miss Dellin looked Cathy up and down, a frown on her sour-looking face. "Let's get you ready to play. This is just a practice scrimmage, so there's no need to change you. All we have to do is put a soccer uniform, some joint pads and shin guards, and some shoes on you and you'll be ready to go."

In short order Cathy found herself stripped of the striped dress, her bra, and the low shoes she'd worn since arriving. Miss Dellin quickly dressed her in a sports bra, taken from one of a number of labeled stacks in cubbyholes in the wall. Miss Dellin then dressed Cathy in a green two-piece soccer uniform. The upper part was a snug halter top that further stabilized Cathy's breasts, while the bottom was a short pleated skirt that barely covered Cathy's diapers. Miss Dellin measured Cathy's feet and brought out a box containing a pair of new soccer cleats. They fit Cathy well, the only oddity being a strange circular lug that protruded from the back of the heel.

She then fitted Cathy with shin guards, forearm guards, and knee and elbow pads. These also appeared to be pretty standard soccer gear, with the exception of the forearm guards. Cathy had never worn forearm guards, so they were pretty strange. Each of the forearm guards sported a circular lug on the outside corner, near the little finger side at the wrist end of the guard.

"OK, Philips," said Miss Dellin. "You're all set. Come this way and I'll show you where you can find your team."

Miss Dellin led Cathy through the locker room to the side where another hallway ran along the wall along the opposite side from where Cathy had entered the gym. At an open door partway down the corridor to the left Miss Dellin paused. She pointed over to a group of girls in the distance across an expanse of regulation soccer fields. "That's your coach, Miss Spears," she said. "Run don't walk there," she said, giving Cathy a slap on the bottom that was just over the line between a pat and a goose, causing Cathy to jump in humiliated surprise as she took off running across the fields.

As Cathy ran she noticed quite a few other teams of girls out practicing in other parts of the huge neatly mowed field.

Scrimmage

"Center the ball! Center the ball!"

The coach shouted directions to the soccer players as they scampered around the open field. Cathy had been gamely attempting to stay with the action when the ball was over on her side of the field. Cathy recognized one of the women on the sidelines supervising the players as the matron who'd changed her that morning.

"OK, Pop Tarts, you have the ball, I want to see some offence!" shrieked the coach, a trim brunette woman dressed in yellow shorts and a matching yellow blouse. Cathy moved forward with the rest of the middle line, alert and prepared should the ball come her way.

Cathy had been playing in the scrimmage ever since the coach had taken out one of the regular midfield players, who Cathy could see standing at the side of the field watching the play.

As a new girl, Cathy's hands were encased in thick mittens that restricted their motion and her mouth was occupied by a rubber gag that was held in place by a strap buckled behind the nape of her neck. The gag limited her wind, adding to her difficulties in keeping up with the action. As play progressed Cathy observed that even with her handicap she was one of the better players on the team. Her experience and practice, even after almost a year off the field, gave her an edge over the other girls.

During a break in the action over on her wing, Cathy paused to catch her breath. Watching as the ball was kicked backward and forward away on the other side of the field, Cathy became aware of an uncomfortable pressure low in her abdomen. Darn, she thought, all of this physical activity has got my bowels going. I'm going to earn myself a brown card soon if I'm not lucky.

In a moment the ball was on its way back over to her side of the field and she was running again, but the awareness of how close she was to soiling her diaper made concentration difficult for Cathy and her play deteriorated. Within the next five minutes she committed two errors, errors that she wouldn't have made under normal circumstances. At least one of the errors caught the eye of the coach, who whistled her off the field, sending in another girl to replace her.

Cathy presented herself, breathing heavily through her nose, to the coach, by now walking slowly and stiffly as she tried to maintain pressure on her bottom. The coach looked and her and said, "go stand over there next to Judy." Cathy obeyed her instructions and made her way along the sidelines to where the girl Cathy had replaced less than a quarter of an hour before stood.

As Cathy stood watching the play of the two teams, a slight motion of air brought an indication to her nose. I guess Judy had the same problem that I'm having now, thought Cathy. Anyway she's brown now.

While watching the scrimmage Cathy began to speculate on the construction of the protective gear worn by the soccer players. Forearm, elbow, shin and knee guards were in place on every girl, in addition to athletic shoes with spikes. Each shoe was equipped with the same circular lug protruding from the back of the heel that she wore, and each forearm guard sported a similar lug on the little finger side of the wrist end. The lugs didn't seem to interfere with play in any way, though, so Cathy finally stopped worrying about them.

Some time later, after the Pop Tarts had scored two more points, Cathy noticed a stake truck roll up the road to the gravel turnaround near the northeast corner of the field. A few minutes afterwards one of the assistant coaches, a warden whom Cathy had seen before in one of the classrooms, came over and directed Cathy and the rest of the sidelined girls over toward the truck for the trip back to the prison buildings. As she walked toward the truck, Cathy saw girls streaming toward the same place from all over the field. Cathy wondered why the truck was there.

Cathy and other girls congregated near a gate between the edge of the field and the dirt road. The truck wasn't visible from this vantage point because of the tall dense hedge surrounding the gate. A matron came through and, tapping each one and pointing, sent the bound and gagged new girls through the gate first. Once through the gate another matron marshalled the girls into a single line that extended from the gate almost to the side of the truck. Every few moments a matron would appear from behind the truck and lead the girl at the head of the line around the corner and out of view. Within a few mintues it was Cathy's turn.

Present arms

On the ground in back of the truck was a wooden stand that came about up to Cathy's knees. It was about the width of Cathy's shoulders, and square. The matron led Cathy over to it and shoved her into position with her back to the side of the stand that was away from the truck. Then the matron, joined by another, leaned Cathy backward so that her back was lying on the platform with her bottom and legs hanging over the edge. In a moment one of the matrons had attached some sort of hook to the lugs at the backs of her shoes and was pulling them skyward to a sort of lightweight crane that they'd swung into position over Cathy. Another moment later and the lugs on her forearm guards were attached to other parts of the hook. Suddenly there was a high-pitched whine off to the side of the truck and Cathy found herself suspended from the crane, swinging slightly from side to side, as the matrons maneuvered her into position on the floor of the truck.

Cathy was positioned in a row of girls, her head toward the front of the truck and her exposed bottom toward the open back. She could feel a slight pressure against the top of her head that told her that her hair was pressing against the exposed diaper of another girl. She could see off to her right the girl who had been immediately in front of her in line. They're packing us in like sardines, Cathy thought.

In a moment the cable attached to the hook had been detached from the crane and tied instead to one of several bars going across the truck from side to side. The matron tied it so that Cathy's arms and legs were pulled up almost straight, leaving only the expanse from head to diaper lying on the bed of the truck. The next thing Cathy knew, another matron was attaching a by-now familiar hose from somwhere out of her view into the fitting on Cathy's gag. Great, Cathy thought as lukewarm slightly sweet fluid began to flow into her mouth, I was thirsty after that workout. While the next girl was installed to Cathy's left, Cathy tried to look around, but the tension in the fluid tube prevented her from moving her head enough to see much. She could hear the sounds that indicated that her neighbors were nursing as assiduously at their gags as she was.

Cathy craned her neck and watched as the bed of the truck was loaded with tired soccer players. She realized that they were inserting gags into the mouths of the girls who didn't already have them and that everyone on the truck was sucking on the rehydrating fluid.

After a while the truck must have been full, for Cathy heard the tailgate of the truck being swung up and latched into place. I wonder how long we wait, Cathy wondered to herself. I really have to poop. From the smell around here, some of the girls on the truck have already soiled themselves, so I don't know why I'm being so fastidious. Off to her left Cathy heard a slight commotion. One of the girls was grunting through her gag and thrashing around enough to disturb her neighbors. I'll bet she's messing her diaper, reflected Cathy, as she strained to keep her own diaper clean.

Above Cathy's head the driver's door of the truck slammed, followed by the starting of the engine. Within moments the truck was moving, bouncing across the rutted dirt road on its way back to the prison dormitory. The bouncing, on top of the strain in her abdoman proved too much for Cathy. With a tortured moan Cathy spasmodically filled the seat of her diaper.

Afterwards Cathy reflected on the use of the truck to transport the tired girls. I guess the exercise stimulates the girls and makes a lot of them mess their pants, she thought. I'll bet it's easier to get the girls onto these trucks on their backs than to make them sit on seats in those buses, Cathy thought.