The Punishment Place

[diaperpt]

In response to mskvor asking about this story, I'm posting it. IT IS NOT MY STORY.

I do not remember the source or author or I would post that information. I hope someone who knows anything about the story will help out. It is NOT my intention to offend anyone, but rather to preserve interesting stories, perhaps from sites long gone.

MY VISIT TO THE PUNISHMENT PLACE

I was lying in bed, sort of half-asleep, clad only in my somewhat-damp diapers and plastic pants, when I heard the key in the door. It was my roommate Billy, returning home after his two-week vacation. After a few moments, he exploded into my bedroom.

"Dammit, Bobby", he shouted. "This place is a complete pigsty. I go away for two weeks and look what happens! I don't think you've picked up a paper or washed a dish the whole time. All you want to do is lay in your bed and wet your diapers like a baby. You know that you're supposed to pitch in and help keep this place in order. I've a good mind to toss you out on your ear!" I should explain that the lease was in Billy's name, so he had the ability to make good on that threat. "I'm sorry, Billy", I replied in a somewhat quivering voice. "I guess I just got careless without you around to remind me to help clean up. I guess I deserve to be punished. But please don't make me move out," I pleaded. "You're damn right you deserve to be punished. And if you don't want to be thrown out, you'd better agree to whatever punishment I decide upon! Now, get yourself out of bed and help me clean up this mess".

Billy didn't say anything further about punishment for the next several days,

but then one night, at dinner, he told me what he had in mind. "A friend of

mine told me about this place where adults can be brought to get the

punishments they deserve. It's called "The Punishment Place". My friend sent his roommate there for a weekend, and he's been much better behaved ever since. I think a stay there is just what you need." I sat there and said nothing, so Billy continued. "You still have a week's vacation, don't you, Bobby?" "Yeah," I replied, "I was planning on taking it next week and going on a train trip." "Well, Bobby, forget about your train trip. I'm signing you up for a week at The Punishment Place." I started to protest when Billy added, "Remember, Bobby, either you take the punishment or you move out!" I didn't want to move out, so I had no choice but to agree to the week's punishment.

"Fine," Billy said. "Be home by 5:30 this Friday night. I'll arrange to have

you picked up. I'm sure the week will do you a world of good!"

For the rest of the week, I don't think I thought of much else other than what was going to happen to me during my punishment. I was really nervous and afraid, but also a bit excited. I was really trembling by the time I got home on Friday afternoon. Billy told me I didn't have to pack anything, that everything would be taken care of by the place. At precisely 6 PM, a van drove up to the door, and two large but cute girls in leather jump-suits got out and rang the bell. Billy answered the door. "Hi," one of the girls said. "I'm Cathy and this is Cindy. We're from the Punishment Place, and we've come for Bobby. You must be Billy, who called us the other day." "Yes, I'm Billy. Bobby is right here". "Hi, Bobby," Cindy said. "Before you come along, I'd like you to sign this release. It states that you agree to the course of punishment you are going to undergo for the next week, and that you will not take any legal action against us." I stood there with Billy, Cindy and Cathy all staring at me, and of course I had no choice but to sign. "Very good, Bobby," Cindy continued. "Now come along like a good boy. Don't give us any trouble. Both of us are well trained to handle any resistance. But just to make sure, hold out your hands." I did as I was told, and found my wrists in a pair of locking leather restraints, with a short chain attaching them. My ankles were soon similarly fastened. As I was led out to the van, Billy called after me. "Have fun, Bobby. See you in a week!" I gave him a scowl just as the door closed behind me.

I was led into the back seat of the van, with Cindy and Cathy on either side of me. Soon, the chain connecting my ankle cuffs was attached to a bolt on the floor of the van, and the chain connecting my wrist cuffs was attached via a short chain to the same bolt. This kept my hands safely positioned in my lap. I felt like I was a dangerous criminal being let away to my life imprisonment!

"This is both for safety's sake, and to remind you that you are our prisoner

for the next week," explained Cathy. The driver started the van and we were on our way.

The drive took a little less than an hour. The van drove into an underground loading dock underneath an ordinary looking building. I was released from the van, and led by Cindy and Cathy into a reception area. "You must be Bobby," the receptionist said. "Let's see, it says on your form that you're here for a whole week. You must have been a very bad boy to deserve that. Well, don't worry. By the time your week is over, I'm sure you'll be a good boy from then on." The receptionist took the release form that I had signed from Cindy, and put it in a file folder with my name on it. Handing the whole folder to Cindy, the receptionist said, "Bobby's schedule of treatments is listed in this folder. As you can see, it starts out with some time in the meditation area. Why don't you get him cleaned and dressed, and take him there."

"Come along now, Bobby. That's a good boy!", said Cindy, as she led me (still in wrist and ankle restraints) out of the reception area and down a corridor into a room marked "Dressing Room". There she removed my restraints, and told me to undress. I took off my outer clothes, but when I started to hesitate before taking off my underwear, Cindy said, "Come on, Bobby. I haven't got all day. Remember, any disobedience just earns extra punishments!" So, embarrassed as I was, I proceeded to remove my underwear. Then Cathy led me to what looked like an oversized babies' bathinette filled with water and told me to lie down. As soon as I did, my wrists and ankles were clamped into restraints that held me in the tub. "Now, Billy told us all about your diaper games. So that's what you will be wearing all the time you are here. But first, we're going to make sure that you are nice and clean, just like a good baby." She began to rub some cream all over me, and then sponge me all over with a wet washcloth. You can't imagine how embarrassed I felt, lying there helpless while a pretty girl sponged me down all over. An ingenious swivel in

the structure of the tub allowed her to turn me over without releasing my

restraints. After a while, I noticed that all my body hair was being wiped off

by the washcloth. "Oh, yes. Babies don't have any of that ugly hair on them, so we're going to make your skin as smooth as a baby's." I started to protest, but was immediately stopped with, "Oh, babies can't talk. From now on, no more grown up words. If we catch you talking, you can be sure that it will be punished. Here, suck on this!", and Cathy proceeded to put a large pacifier in my mouth. Eventually, I was towelled off, which removed the last of my body hair, and then released from the tub and led to a large changing table where I was again secured. Cathy brought out several very thick diapers, and folded them to fit. She slipped them under me, and pinned them on tightly. Then, removing my legs from the restraints one at a time, she pulled a pair of plastic pants up over my diapers. "Billy told us you're a real heavy wetter, so you can be sure you'll be kept well diapered here," Cathy said. She also pulled on a pair of booties on my feet, and then let me up.

I was led out of the Dressing Room and down two flights of stairs to a very

dark, dank corridor. The corridor was lined with cells with very heavy solid steel doors on them. One of the doors was opened, and I was led inside. There was no light in the cell, and from the light in the corridor I was able to see that there was nothing at all in the cell but four bare stone walls, and some chains. Cathy chained me to a wall by my wrists, neck, and ankles with very heavy old-fashioned iron shackles. As she was doing so, she said, "We're going to leave you alone here for a while, to contemplate your bad behavior and the punishment you are going to receive for it over the next week. We find that a stay here at the beginning of the punishment tends to make our guests much more cooperative and docile. Especially since we can always threaten that you can be returned here for the rest of your stay if you don't cooperate. We also find that its more effective not to let you know how long you're going to spend here, so you won't be worried about trying to keep track of time. It's

impossible to do so anyway. Now, I'm going to give you a bottle of formula to drink. It's the last food you'll have until you're let out of here, so drink it up good. We wouldn't want your diapers dry for long, would we, Bobby?" I was, of course, helpless to feed myself, so Cathy held a large, quart-sized baby bottle up to my lips, and I began to suck on the nipple. I found out later that what I was being fed was Pedialyte (which is designed to add fluid to a baby's system), laced with diuretics to make sure I wet readily, and stimulants, to make sure I stayed wide awake through my ordeal. After a while, my stomach began to feel full, and I stopped sucking. I was immediately prodded, "Come on, now, Bobby. Drink it all up like a good little baby". I continued to suck. When the bottle was finally empty, Cathy strapped a pacifier in my mouth, and fastened it behind my neck so I couldn't spit it out. "This will keep you quiet. We don't want you making any noises to disturb the other inmates down here". Then she started to walk out the door.

"Now just stay put and think about your misbehavior and punishments. Have fun, Bobby!" Cathy left the cell and closed the door with a loud clang. I was plunged into absolute darkness. I heard the lock turn in the door. I was very frightened. As Cathy suggested, I could do nothing but contemplate what the rest of my week here would be like, and that just made me more and more nervous. Before long, my diapers were wet, partly, I'm sure, from the medication, but partly from just plain fright.

I really don't know exactly how long I was left in that Meditation Area, but

I'd figure it to be around 6 hours. By that time, I had wet myself many, many times, and my diapers were close to soaked. My muscles were very stiff since I was chained in place and was unable to sit or lie down. I was very relieved when I heard the lock turn, and the door creak open. The dim light from the corridor stung my eyes, and it took a few moments for me to adjust. Cindy was entering my cell. "Well, Bobby. I hope your meditation did you some good." I nodded my head yes, as I still had the pacifier strapped in my mouth. "Its time to get you some rest before your next punishment session". Cindy unchained me from the wall, and led me (somewhat unsteadily) out of the cell and back upstairs. She led me into a room marked Nursery. In this room, there were about a dozen adult-size cribs, all looking very secure with steel bars, and some with tops locked on, making them inescapable cages. Most of the cribs were occupied with other adults, both male and female, all wearing diapers and plastic pants. Some of them seemed to be fastened in their cribs in various uncomfortable ways. Most of the "babies" were fast asleep, as it was the

middle of the night, but some looked like they were awake, but still perfectly quiet. I was led into a room off the nursery where my very wet diapers were removed. I was wiped off and powdered, and then pinned into fresh diapers. Then I was led into my crib. I was wondering how I was going to be fastened in my crib, but thankfully, I wasn't restrained at all this time. Cindy unstrapped the pacifier from my mouth, but signaled that I should remain quiet. She gave me another bottle to suck on. Then Cindy pulled up the crib side, locked the top over the crib, and left me alone.

I must have been very tired, or maybe there was some sleeping medication in the bottle, because the next thing I remember was Cathy unlocking the crib and shaking me awake the next morning. "Rise and shine, Bobby! Time for another day of punishment." I noticed that my diapers were very wet, which meant that I must have wet in my sleep. Although I had been sleeping in diapers for years, this was the first time that I had done that since I was a real baby, and it scared me some. It probably was a result of the medication in my bottle, but still, I was afraid that I was turning into a real bedwetter, and I wasn't sure I liked that idea. Cathy let me out of my crib and led me into the changing room. I noticed that other attendants were rousing the other babies and letting them out of their restraints and cribs as well. Inside the changing room, there were several other baby boys and girls being changed, and I could see that one of them had not only wet but had messed her diaper. Her attendant strapped her down to the changing table, face down, cleaned up her mess, and then proceed to give her a spanking. Cathy said to me, "We don't like our babies pooping in their diapers. You can see what happens to those who disobey. We'll let you sit on the potty, once a day, after breakfast, and if that doesn't take care of your poo-poo, then we have other methods as well." The enema bags hanging on stands in the changing room left little doubt as to what those other methods were.

After being pinned into a clean diaper, I was dressed in a cute short-legged romper suit, and led out of the nursery into the dining room. The dining room contained about a dozen adult-sized high-chairs. In some of them, babies were fastened in and were being spoon fed some awful-looking mushy baby food. In others, babies had feeding gags strapped in their mouths, and were sucking on the nipples while liquid drained from a bag hanging over the chair. I was led to one of the chairs that had a bag hanging from a stand, and Cathy strapped a feeding gag into my mouth. It contained a large nipple, which was quickly inflated to fill my whole mouth. Cathy explained, "We don't know how cooperative a baby you're going to be, so we start out by force feeding you like this. If you are a good baby, you'll be allowed to be spoon fed in a day or so, but if you are a bad baby, we'll keep you on the feeding gag." Then she released the flow, and a rather sticky liquid began oozing out of my gag and into my mouth. I had to swallow if I didn't want to choke, and the action of swallowing drew even more food into my mouth. I had no choice but to keep swallowing and swallowing. "You see, Bobby," said Cathy. "This isn't a very

pleasant way to be fed. So be a good baby, and you'll earn a spoon feeding."

I resolved that I would cooperate, because I sure didn't want to be fed this

way for much longer. After what seemed an eternity, the bag was empty, and Cathy removed the feeding gag, but immediately replaced it with a pacifier strapped into my mouth. "Just to remind you that you're not allowed to talk," said Cathy. Then she let me out of the high-chair and led me back to the nursery.

"Now its potty time," said Cathy. "As I told you before, this is the one time

a day we let you sit on your potty and do your poo-poos. If you don't do them now, then we'll have to clean you out later. As I said, we don't want dirty diapers around here". I saw that in front of each crib, there was now an adult-sized but baby-styled potty chair. Some were shaped like ducks, others like frogs. Mine was a turtle. There were already a few other babies sitting on their potty chairs straining to do their business. Cathy unpinned my diaper, and sat me on my potty, strapping me in. I certainly didn't want an enema, but sitting here in full view of half-a-dozen women and ten other "babies", I was so embarrassed that I couldn't do anything. After twenty minutes, we were all let off our potties, and the attendants checked the results. "Bad boy", Cathy said to me, as she pinned back on my diaper. "I warned you what would happen if you didn't poo-poo now. Just wait till later. I'm sure you'll learn that you're much better off doing it now." One more thing for me to worry about!

Next, it was time for our morning punishments. Cathy explained that these

weren't punishments for things we did wrong here, but rather, part of the

punishment that we were sent here to receive in the first place. Cathy checked my chart and said, "I see you are scheduled for a good one now. Come on, Bobby." She led me out of the nursery and down another corridor, into a door marked "Punishment Room C". The room was full of all sorts of strange looking contraptions, most of which I couldn't figure out what they did at all. But none of them looked very pleasant. I was led over to a low padded stool, and my diapers were removed. I was told to bend over the stool, and soon I was attached to the stool by both wrists and ankles. In addition, a leather belt was strapped around my tummy, further securing me to the stool. I couldn't move, or even squirm much. Cathy turned on a switch, and a motor started up. I strained my neck to see what was happening, and saw two paddles attached to armatures. First one, then the other swatted my backside. Cathy adjusted some

controls, to fine-tune the positioning of the swats, and then adjusted the

speed to about 1 swat every 5 seconds. She also adjusted the strength of the swats to a position marked 5 on a 1-to-10 scale. "That should be good for your first go at our spanking machine. Enjoy yourself, I'll be back in a while".

She gave me no clue as to how long I was to be left at the mercy of the

diabolical machine. It didn't take long before my backside really started

feeling sore, and involuntarily, I started to whimper, just like a little kid

getting a spanking. The pacifier was still strapped in my mouth, so I couldn't make any more noise even if I wanted to. I must have been left on the machine for about 30 minutes, which means I must have gotten a total of 360 swats. When Cathy finally turned the machine off and let me up, tears were running down my cheeks, and I was sobbing uncontrollably through my pacifier gag.

I guess they realized they had to show some mercy on the prisoners here,

because Cathy rubbed some soothing cream onto my backside, as she re-diapered me. "There, there, Bobby! It's all over for now." She comforted me as she led me into the playroom. It was a large room filled with toys, and there were about a half dozen other adult babies playing or just resting. All of them had pacifiers strapped in their mouths, just like I did, so none of us could talk. All we could do is make little baby noises. I laid down on my side and started to absentmindedly play with some blocks as I waited for the pain in my backside to subside some. Soon, I fell into a light sleep, which was interrupted by Cathy coming back and announcing that it was lunch time. We were led back into the dining room, and I was once again fed my lunch through the feeding gag. Cathy told me, "If you're a good baby for the rest of the day, maybe we'll let you eat your dinner from a spoon."

After lunch came nap-time, and I was locked back in my crib for my nap. As I was laying there, the realization came that I had to move my bowels. I

realized that I was in trouble because I would have no choice but to dirty my diapers, and I knew that I would be punished for it. So I tried to hold it in, but eventually the cramps grew too strong, and I just had to let go and push it out. When Cindy came around to let me up from my nap and checked my diapers to see if I needed changing, the "accident" was very apparent. "Bad baby Bobby! You wouldn't do your poo-poos in the potty this morning, like you were told. You had to do them in your didee. You're going to be sorry!" Since my movement, I had been laying on my side or my stomach to avoid spreading the mess around. Now Cindy turned me on my back, and pushed me down to make sure I sat right in my own mess, and then strapped me down. "First of all, you'll spend the rest of the afternoon laying in your dirty diapers. Maybe that will teach you not to play a trick like that again. And then afterwards, we'll have more surprises for you!" All the other babies were let out and allowed to play, but I was left there strapped in my crib. Of course, I had to wet soon, and that made the mess even more sticky.

Several hours later, I was finally let up from my crib, and taken to the

changing room and cleaned off. But then, as I had feared, I was strapped down over a stool, my wrists and ankles secured, and then a large tube inserted in my rectum. "This is to teach you a lesson for your stunt this afternoon," Cindy said, as she proceeded to inflate the retention cuff, preventing me from expelling the enema tube. The inevitable flow started, and I felt the warm, soapy water start to fill my bowels. I think she let two quarts into me before she stopped the flow, and disconnected the tubing. She left the tube and cuff in my rectum, so I couldn't release any of the liquid. Then she proceeded to rediaper me with very thick diapers, and two layers of heavy plastic pants, and locked me back in my crib. My wrists were secured to the crib sides, so there was no way I could interfere with the plug in my rectum. "This way, you'll be sure not to have any accidents for a while", she said as she left me alone. I wondered how long I was going to have to hold this enema in me. As the cramps started to get worse and worse, I wondered if I would survive at all. After about 30 minutes, Cindy came back and released the catch on the tubing,

deflating the cuff, but left the diapers and plastic pants on. Almost

immediately, I started expelling the liquid into the diaper. It felt good to

release it, but now I was sitting in all this smelly dirty water. The diaper

and plastic pants were thick enough to make sure it all stayed inside. Cindy attached my legs to the crib mattress, thus leaving me spread-eagled. "You'll stay this way all night, Bobby. Maybe next time you'll learn not to mess your diapers. Oh, and since you'll be missing your regular dinner, we'll have to make sure you get your nourishment anyway." She strapped on a feeding gag, set up a feeding bag on a stand next to my crib, and started the flow. I had no choice but to keep swallowing as the fluid poured into my mouth. After about 15 minutes, the bag was empty, and soon Cindy was back to detach the tubing, but left the gag in my mouth. "Pleasant dreams, Baby Bobby," she said as she left me for the night.

As I lay there, I considered my plight. I had been in the Punishment Place

only about 24 hours, and I had already undergone discomfort and humiliation the likes of which I had never even dreamed about. And I was sentenced to spend another SIX WHOLE DAYS here. One thing was sure. When I got back home, I would never again give my roommate any excuse to punish me again!

Somehow, I did manage to get some fitful sleep that night, despite the

uncomfortable position I was bound in. Sunday morning, I was once again awakened and, thankfully, changed out of my very messy diapers into clean, dry ones. At breakfast, I was finally allowed to be spoon-fed some baby cereal, and given my formula from a bottle. My feeder made sure that at least some of the food ended up on my chin, and then chided me for being a "messy baby".

Then came potty time again, but Cathy told me that while I was going to be put on the potty, I wasn't necessarily expected to do anything, since I was pretty thoroughly cleaned out last night. But surprisingly, I did have some more to eliminate, and this time, I was able to do it in the potty despite the

embarrassment. When I was let up, Cathy told me I was a very good baby.

Nevertheless, I still had to go for my morning punishment. This time, I was

led over to a very diabolical-looking contraption. It consisted of a large

turntable, mounted vertically over a pool of water. There were straps for

neck, arms, waist, thighs and ankles on the turntable, and I was soon tightly strapped in. Then the turntable was started up at a very slow rate of speed,

about 1 revolution per minute. I was positioned so that for about 20 seconds out of every minute, my head would be dunked into the water. That wasn't long enough for me to really have any breathing problems, but nevertheless, it certainly wasn't a very pleasant sensation. And the water was freezing cold! Cathy left me without, of course, telling me for how long I had been sentenced to be left spinning round and round. I tried to keep count of the revolutions, but soon lost track. I think they must have left me turning for about an hour. I was in quite a sorry state by the time Cathy stopped the motor, unstrapped me, and toweled me off.

That afternoon, at nap time, I found myself strangely excited. So I lay in my

crib on my tummy, and started to rub myself against the rubber sheet. The

sensation of my penis pressing hard against the damp diaper really felt good, and it didn't take long to work myself to a climax. But as soon as I had climaxed, there was Cindy standing over my crib. "Naughty, naughty, Baby Bobby! That's not allowed here. We'll have to do something to make sure you can't do such naughty things!" Cindy shortly returned with a syringe and a plastic sheath. First she injected me with the syringe, which instantly made my penis go flaccid. She then slipped the sheath onto my penis. It fit tightly around my flaccid penis. It was open at the head so as not to interfere with my diaper-wetting. It was held on by a chain wrapped tightly around my scrotum, and locked with a tiny key. There was no way I could remove the sheath by myself. I felt that the inside of the sheath was covered with small studs - not sharp enough to puncture the skin, but certainly enough to be noticed. It was obvious what the purpose of the sheath was. Any time I began to grow erect, my penis would be pushed painfully against the inside of the sheath. There was not nearly enough room for me to grow fully erect. I certainly wasn't going to be able to satisfy myself with that sheath on, and any time I was stimulated, I was in for a painful period until I could control myself and lose the erection. "There," Cindy said. "That will keep you from being naughty again. And it gives us another way to have some fun with you!"

I wondered what she meant by that last remark, but I was sure that when I found out, it wouldn't be pleasant! My diaper was repinned on, and I was released from my crib and allowed to go into the playroom for afternoon playtime.

That evening, after being spoon-fed a dinner of strained turkey and noodles, I was led by Cindy and Cathy into a room. My diapers and plastic pants were removed, and I was secured in a chair with wrist and ankle cuffs. My sheath-covered penis was visible for the two of them to see. Then both of them proceeded to perform a very sensuous strip-tease. The purpose was obviously to excite me so that I would feel the pain of my penis expanding against the studded sheath. As hard as I tried, I was unable to prevent the inevitable result. After about 15 minutes of this exhibition, the girls redressed, refastened my diapers and plastic pants, and released me from the chair.

"Wasn't that fun, Bobby?," chided Cindy. "We'll have to do that again

sometime!" As I was led back into the playroom, I was feeling both the pain of my sore penis, and the frustration of not being able to come to climax, as well as the humiliation of the whole scene. They really know how to punish someone here!

When bedtime came, Cathy came over to my crib and said, "We always tell our babies to "Sleep Tight". Well, tonight, Bobby, as part of your punishment, you're going to be sleeping VERY tight!" She unfolded a leather and canvas garment, into which I was placed. It covered me from my neck to the soles of my feet. My arms were inserted into internal pockets, and the whole thing was zipped and then strapped up very tightly. I couldn't move a muscle. Then to top it off, a tight leather hood was placed over my head. Now I could neither see, hear, nor speak. Only small holes around my nose allowed me to breathe. I was left in this tight, dark confinement for the night. I didn't think I would be able to sleep at all, but I think I was able to catch a few cat-naps throughout the night. Of course, I had no way to know the time, and when awake, just had to lie there wondering when I would be released from this confinement. Finally, I felt my crib being unlocked, and soon hands were removing the hood from my head. Immediately, a pacifier was placed in my mouth, as Cindy said, "We'll let you stay in your sleepsack for just a bit longer while we get all the other babies ready for breakfast." My muscles ached from the confinement, and I wanted to protest, but by now I knew better than to try to say anything. Eventually, she came back and unstrapped me. I

really felt relieved as I was able to exercise my stiff muscles. I wondered

what else they had in store for me at this place.

Monday morning, after pooping in my potty like a good boy, I was pleasantly surprised when Cindy told me, "You had a hard time of it yesterday, what with the penis sheath, and the sleepsack. So we'll let you skip your morning punishment today. We'll just give you a short spanking to remind you that you're still being punished". After all the diabolical punishments I had been subjected to lately, a simple spanking seemed like a relief. But the spanking still hurt, and in addition, it stimulated me enough to remind me painfully of the sheath on my penis. The rest of that day was very uneventful. I did nothing that earned me any extra punishments, and wasn't treated to any special "surprises". At bedtime, I was put into handcuffs and leg-irons for the night "just to remind you", but compared to what I had to put up with the night before, I was practically unbound. And I only had another four days to go. Maybe I was going to survive after all!

Tuesday morning, however, my bowels didn't want to cooperate and make my life easier. I couldn't do anything in my potty at potty time. Cindy scolded me, and then proceeded to insert a rubber plug up my anus before diapering me.

"This will make sure that your poo-poo doesn't come out until we want it to. We don't want any repeat of what happened the last time you didn't potty!" Then I was led to my punishment for the day. This time, I was led to a device that was a combination pillory and stocks. I was made to sit on a hard wooden bench. My legs were stretched out and clamped by the ankles into two holes in the lower part of the device. Then my wrists and neck were clamped into holes in the upper part of the device. It was all locked tight by two heavy padlocks. "Have fun! See ya later!" crowed Cindy as she left me. The situation was made even worse by the large rubber plug in my anus. Because my feet were off the floor, more of my weight rested on my backside on the hard bench, which put lots of pressure on the plug. In addition, the presence of the plug served to stimulate my penis, which was, of course, still trapped in the plastic sheath which made it painful to expand. Before long, my breakfast bottles proceeded to make me wet my diaper, making it even more uncomfortable

to sit there. And then, to top it all off, I started to feel the need to move

my bowels, which of course was impossible in the situation. By the time Cathy came in to visit me, two or three hours later, I was a pretty sorry baby. And then to my surprise and horror, she didn't release me, but began to feed me a quart bottle of formula for lunch. "Be a good boy and stay put", she said laughingly as she left, giving me no clue as to how long I was going to be left in this predicament.

It must have been close to 5 PM by the time I was finally released from that

punishment. My diapers were completely soaked through, and I desperately had to have a bowel movement. But as soon as the diapers and butt-plug were removed, an enema nozzle was inserted in its place. As Cathy inserted it, she said, "Maybe this will teach you that you need to do your poo-poos in the potty!" I had to suffer through an enema, and a 10-minute spanking before I was finally allowed to relieve myself. Fortunately, nothing else special happened that evening. But I had to sleep in the "fetal position" that night, since my wrists were attached to my thighs with 2-inch chains. By this time, though, I was able to sleep almost any way they left me!

Thankfully, my bowels cooperated on Wednesday morning. And once again, it looked as if it were going to be a light punishment day, as I was only given a spanking after breakfast before being brought in the playroom. But during playtime, another adult baby named Sammy threw a block and hit me on the head. So I threw it back at his head, and before long we were really fighting. Cindy came over and dragged us both out of the room. "Bad, bad babies! You should know better than that! Now you'll see how we treat bad boys that fight with each other here!" First we both were bent over punishment stools, attached at ankles and wrists, and given long, hard spankings. I was really sore, since I had just had a spanking earlier that morning! Then, our plastic pants were removed but our diapers (which were already a bit damp) left on. Then we were

positioned standing face to face, as Cindy unfolded an extra-large diaper, and pinned it tightly around both of us. A huge pair of rubber pants were pulled up over both our legs and around the diaper. Then our ankles were bound to each other. We were told to place our arms around each other, and our wrists were handcuffed behind each others backs. To top it off, a special double-ended pacifier gag with two nipples was placed in our mouths and strapped on behind our necks. Each time one of us moved our head even slightly, the other one felt it. "By the time we let you out of this, I think the two of you will learn to cooperate VERY well," said Cindy. It took quite a while to develop the coordination necessary for us to walk, and of course, there was no way we could sit down. We each knew whenever the other one had wet his diaper. The contact and the wetness in that area was stimulating, but of course that was just another problem to me as I had my penis sheath on.

Apparently, Sammy was not similarly encumbered, because I felt him climaxing and ejaculating once.

At lunch time, we discovered that our double-ended pacifier gag was also a force-feeding gag, as some extra tubing was connected to the outside of the gag, and formula started to flow into both of our mouths simultaneously. At nap time, Cindy changed our joint diapers and then helped us into my crib, where we had to lay on our side. We were left that way for the rest of the afternoon. At dinner time, we were once again force fed through our gag. Finally, just before bedtime, we were released, as Cindy said "I hope you've learned your lesson, babies." But we were made to spend the night handcuffed to each other by one wrist as we were put to bed in my crib.

Thursday morning, the handcuffs stayed on through breakfast and potty time, as we sat their on adjacent potties trying to do our thing. Fortunately, both of us succeeded. Then Cathy took us both into a Punishment Room. This was a very small room, with tiled walls and a stone floor. In the center of the room was something that looked like an ordinary see-saw except that it had restraints at each end to keep the victims in place. "The two of you get along so well, that we thought we would give you a joint punishment today. Besides being uncomfortable, like all our punishments, this one teaches cooperation very well!" We were both strapped in, and Cathy encouraged us to begin using it like a see-saw, which we did. I really couldn't see what this punishment was all about. Then Cathy left, and the room began to fill with water. When it stopped, we discovered that the water level was such that if we balanced on the see-saw, both our heads would be under water. Only if one of us submerged himself, could the other's head be above water. That was what Cathy meant about cooperation. We were left there for about an hour, see-sawing back and

forth. Eventually, we heard a pump start up and the water started draining

out. When it was all drained, Cathy came back in and released it. We both looked like drowned rats! "Very good, babies. I see you learned to cooperate with each other!" We were both dried off, rediapered and brought back to the play room, finally unattached from one another.

That evening, just before bedtime, Cindy took me out of the playroom, and said to me, "Bobby, you've been here for more than six days now, and I think you've learned a lot of lessons from your experiences. Just to make sure you think about all you've learned, we're going to let you spend tonight back in the meditation room." So back down the stairs we went, and once again, I was left chained in the darkness to meditate. This time, it must have been more than 12 hours before Cindy came back to release me.

After breakfast and potty time, Cindy took me into an office, and said, "Bobby, you're time here is almost over. I hope you've learned your lesson well. You realize that we offer our clients a guarantee, so that if Billy has any more trouble with you during the next year, he'll be able to send you back here for more punishment at half-price. And the punishment we give to returnees is much more severe than anything you have experienced. Billy has asked us to have you sign this agreement, with the understanding that if you violate any part of it, you will be returned here." Cindy handed me a sheet of paper. The agreement stated, "The undersigned, Bobby, agrees to obey his roommate Billy completely.

He will do all housework that Billy asks him to do quickly, properly and

without complaining. He will keep his room neat and clean. He will wear

diapers to bed every night, and any other time Billy tells him to, and he will

wash all his diapers and baby clothes. Any violation of these rules will

result in Bobby being returned to "The Punishment Place" for further

discipline." Cindy said, "If you don't want to sign this, then you must move

out of Billy's house immediately." I didn't want to move out, so I had no

choice but to sign the agreement. And having signed it, I had every intention of keeping it. I had no desire to return for more punishments!

Then Cindy let me put my regular clothing on over my diapers (there was a BIG bulge in the pants!) and led me into the reception room, where Billy was waiting to take me home. "I hope you learned your lesson well this week, Bobby," said Billy as we left "The Punishment Place".

[mskvor]

Hello diaperpt,

thanks a lot.

Best regards,

MS

[Guest little_jonny]

WOW! i dont know who wrote this but very good job to who ever wrote it

[willnotwill]

That one has been around a long time. I think it was one of the DPFers back when we used to hang out on the compuserve HSX forums.

Might have been Billy himself.

[pampywamp]

In response to mskvor asking about this story, I'm posting it. IT IS NOT MY STORY.

I do not remember the source or author or I would post that information. I hope someone who knows anything about the story will help out. It is NOT my intention to offend anyone, but rather to preserve interesting stories, perhaps from sites long gone.

MY VISIT TO THE PUNISHMENT PLACE

I was lying in bed, sort of half-asleep, clad only in my somewhat-damp diapers and plastic pants, when I heard the key in the door. It was my roommate Billy, returning home after his two-week vacation. After a few moments, he exploded into my bedroom.

"Dammit, Bobby", he shouted. "This place is a complete pigsty. I go away for two weeks and look what happens! I don't think you've picked up a paper or washed a dish the whole time. All you want to do is lay in your bed and wet your diapers like a baby. You know that you're supposed to pitch in and help keep this place in order. I've a good mind to toss you out on your ear!" I should explain that the lease was in Billy's name, so he had the ability to make good on that threat. "I'm sorry, Billy", I replied in a somewhat quivering voice. "I guess I just got careless without you around to remind me to help clean up. I guess I deserve to be punished. But please don't make me move out," I pleaded. "You're damn right you deserve to be punished. And if you don't want to be thrown out, you'd better agree to whatever punishment I decide upon! Now, get yourself out of bed and help me clean up this mess".

Billy didn't say anything further about punishment for the next several days,

but then one night, at dinner, he told me what he had in mind. "A friend of

mine told me about this place where adults can be brought to get the

punishments they deserve. It's called "The Punishment Place". My friend sent his roommate there for a weekend, and he's been much better behaved ever since. I think a stay there is just what you need." I sat there and said nothing, so Billy continued. "You still have a week's vacation, don't you, Bobby?" "Yeah," I replied, "I was planning on taking it next week and going on a train trip." "Well, Bobby, forget about your train trip. I'm signing you up for a week at The Punishment Place." I started to protest when Billy added, "Remember, Bobby, either you take the punishment or you move out!" I didn't want to move out, so I had no choice but to agree to the week's punishment.

"Fine," Billy said. "Be home by 5:30 this Friday night. I'll arrange to have

you picked up. I'm sure the week will do you a world of good!"

For the rest of the week, I don't think I thought of much else other than what was going to happen to me during my punishment. I was really nervous and afraid, but also a bit excited. I was really trembling by the time I got home on Friday afternoon. Billy told me I didn't have to pack anything, that everything would be taken care of by the place. At precisely 6 PM, a van drove up to the door, and two large but cute girls in leather jump-suits got out and rang the bell. Billy answered the door. "Hi," one of the girls said. "I'm Cathy and this is Cindy. We're from the Punishment Place, and we've come for Bobby. You must be Billy, who called us the other day." "Yes, I'm Billy. Bobby is right here". "Hi, Bobby," Cindy said. "Before you come along, I'd like you to sign this release. It states that you agree to the course of punishment you are going to undergo for the next week, and that you will not take any legal action against us." I stood there with Billy, Cindy and Cathy all staring at me, and of course I had no choice but to sign. "Very good, Bobby," Cindy continued. "Now come along like a good boy. Don't give us any trouble. Both of us are well trained to handle any resistance. But just to make sure, hold out your hands." I did as I was told, and found my wrists in a pair of locking leather restraints, with a short chain attaching them. My ankles were soon similarly fastened. As I was led out to the van, Billy called after me. "Have fun, Bobby. See you in a week!" I gave him a scowl just as the door closed behind me.

I was led into the back seat of the van, with Cindy and Cathy on either side of me. Soon, the chain connecting my ankle cuffs was attached to a bolt on the floor of the van, and the chain connecting my wrist cuffs was attached via a short chain to the same bolt. This kept my hands safely positioned in my lap. I felt like I was a dangerous criminal being let away to my life imprisonment!

"This is both for safety's sake, and to remind you that you are our prisoner

for the next week," explained Cathy. The driver started the van and we were on our way.

The drive took a little less than an hour. The van drove into an underground loading dock underneath an ordinary looking building. I was released from the van, and led by Cindy and Cathy into a reception area. "You must be Bobby," the receptionist said. "Let's see, it says on your form that you're here for a whole week. You must have been a very bad boy to deserve that. Well, don't worry. By the time your week is over, I'm sure you'll be a good boy from then on." The receptionist took the release form that I had signed from Cindy, and put it in a file folder with my name on it. Handing the whole folder to Cindy, the receptionist said, "Bobby's schedule of treatments is listed in this folder. As you can see, it starts out with some time in the meditation area. Why don't you get him cleaned and dressed, and take him there."

"Come along now, Bobby. That's a good boy!", said Cindy, as she led me (still in wrist and ankle restraints) out of the reception area and down a corridor into a room marked "Dressing Room". There she removed my restraints, and told me to undress. I took off my outer clothes, but when I started to hesitate before taking off my underwear, Cindy said, "Come on, Bobby. I haven't got all day. Remember, any disobedience just earns extra punishments!" So, embarrassed as I was, I proceeded to remove my underwear. Then Cathy led me to what looked like an oversized babies' bathinette filled with water and told me to lie down. As soon as I did, my wrists and ankles were clamped into restraints that held me in the tub. "Now, Billy told us all about your diaper games. So that's what you will be wearing all the time you are here. But first, we're going to make sure that you are nice and clean, just like a good baby." She began to rub some cream all over me, and then sponge me all over with a wet washcloth. You can't imagine how embarrassed I felt, lying there helpless while a pretty girl sponged me down all over. An ingenious swivel in

the structure of the tub allowed her to turn me over without releasing my

restraints. After a while, I noticed that all my body hair was being wiped off

by the washcloth. "Oh, yes. Babies don't have any of that ugly hair on them, so we're going to make your skin as smooth as a baby's." I started to protest, but was immediately stopped with, "Oh, babies can't talk. From now on, no more grown up words. If we catch you talking, you can be sure that it will be punished. Here, suck on this!", and Cathy proceeded to put a large pacifier in my mouth. Eventually, I was towelled off, which removed the last of my body hair, and then released from the tub and led to a large changing table where I was again secured. Cathy brought out several very thick diapers, and folded them to fit. She slipped them under me, and pinned them on tightly. Then, removing my legs from the restraints one at a time, she pulled a pair of plastic pants up over my diapers. "Billy told us you're a real heavy wetter, so you can be sure you'll be kept well diapered here," Cathy said. She also pulled on a pair of booties on my feet, and then let me up.

I was led out of the Dressing Room and down two flights of stairs to a very

dark, dank corridor. The corridor was lined with cells with very heavy solid steel doors on them. One of the doors was opened, and I was led inside. There was no light in the cell, and from the light in the corridor I was able to see that there was nothing at all in the cell but four bare stone walls, and some chains. Cathy chained me to a wall by my wrists, neck, and ankles with very heavy old-fashioned iron shackles. As she was doing so, she said, "We're going to leave you alone here for a while, to contemplate your bad behavior and the punishment you are going to receive for it over the next week. We find that a stay here at the beginning of the punishment tends to make our guests much more cooperative and docile. Especially since we can always threaten that you can be returned here for the rest of your stay if you don't cooperate. We also find that its more effective not to let you know how long you're going to spend here, so you won't be worried about trying to keep track of time. It's

impossible to do so anyway. Now, I'm going to give you a bottle of formula to drink. It's the last food you'll have until you're let out of here, so drink it up good. We wouldn't want your diapers dry for long, would we, Bobby?" I was, of course, helpless to feed myself, so Cathy held a large, quart-sized baby bottle up to my lips, and I began to suck on the nipple. I found out later that what I was being fed was Pedialyte (which is designed to add fluid to a baby's system), laced with diuretics to make sure I wet readily, and stimulants, to make sure I stayed wide awake through my ordeal. After a while, my stomach began to feel full, and I stopped sucking. I was immediately prodded, "Come on, now, Bobby. Drink it all up like a good little baby". I continued to suck. When the bottle was finally empty, Cathy strapped a pacifier in my mouth, and fastened it behind my neck so I couldn't spit it out. "This will keep you quiet. We don't want you making any noises to disturb the other inmates down here". Then she started to walk out the door.

"Now just stay put and think about your misbehavior and punishments. Have fun, Bobby!" Cathy left the cell and closed the door with a loud clang. I was plunged into absolute darkness. I heard the lock turn in the door. I was very frightened. As Cathy suggested, I could do nothing but contemplate what the rest of my week here would be like, and that just made me more and more nervous. Before long, my diapers were wet, partly, I'm sure, from the medication, but partly from just plain fright.

I really don't know exactly how long I was left in that Meditation Area, but

I'd figure it to be around 6 hours. By that time, I had wet myself many, many times, and my diapers were close to soaked. My muscles were very stiff since I was chained in place and was unable to sit or lie down. I was very relieved when I heard the lock turn, and the door creak open. The dim light from the corridor stung my eyes, and it took a few moments for me to adjust. Cindy was entering my cell. "Well, Bobby. I hope your meditation did you some good." I nodded my head yes, as I still had the pacifier strapped in my mouth. "Its time to get you some rest before your next punishment session". Cindy unchained me from the wall, and led me (somewhat unsteadily) out of the cell and back upstairs. She led me into a room marked Nursery. In this room, there were about a dozen adult-size cribs, all looking very secure with steel bars, and some with tops locked on, making them inescapable cages. Most of the cribs were occupied with other adults, both male and female, all wearing diapers and plastic pants. Some of them seemed to be fastened in their cribs in various uncomfortable ways. Most of the "babies" were fast asleep, as it was the

middle of the night, but some looked like they were awake, but still perfectly quiet. I was led into a room off the nursery where my very wet diapers were removed. I was wiped off and powdered, and then pinned into fresh diapers. Then I was led into my crib. I was wondering how I was going to be fastened in my crib, but thankfully, I wasn't restrained at all this time. Cindy unstrapped the pacifier from my mouth, but signaled that I should remain quiet. She gave me another bottle to suck on. Then Cindy pulled up the crib side, locked the top over the crib, and left me alone.

I must have been very tired, or maybe there was some sleeping medication in the bottle, because the next thing I remember was Cathy unlocking the crib and shaking me awake the next morning. "Rise and shine, Bobby! Time for another day of punishment." I noticed that my diapers were very wet, which meant that I must have wet in my sleep. Although I had been sleeping in diapers for years, this was the first time that I had done that since I was a real baby, and it scared me some. It probably was a result of the medication in my bottle, but still, I was afraid that I was turning into a real bedwetter, and I wasn't sure I liked that idea. Cathy let me out of my crib and led me into the changing room. I noticed that other attendants were rousing the other babies and letting them out of their restraints and cribs as well. Inside the changing room, there were several other baby boys and girls being changed, and I could see that one of them had not only wet but had messed her diaper. Her attendant strapped her down to the changing table, face down, cleaned up her mess, and then proceed to give her a spanking. Cathy said to me, "We don't like our babies pooping in their diapers. You can see what happens to those who disobey. We'll let you sit on the potty, once a day, after breakfast, and if that doesn't take care of your poo-poo, then we have other methods as well." The enema bags hanging on stands in the changing room left little doubt as to what those other methods were.

After being pinned into a clean diaper, I was dressed in a cute short-legged romper suit, and led out of the nursery into the dining room. The dining room contained about a dozen adult-sized high-chairs. In some of them, babies were fastened in and were being spoon fed some awful-looking mushy baby food. In others, babies had feeding gags strapped in their mouths, and were sucking on the nipples while liquid drained from a bag hanging over the chair. I was led to one of the chairs that had a bag hanging from a stand, and Cathy strapped a feeding gag into my mouth. It contained a large nipple, which was quickly inflated to fill my whole mouth. Cathy explained, "We don't know how cooperative a baby you're going to be, so we start out by force feeding you like this. If you are a good baby, you'll be allowed to be spoon fed in a day or so, but if you are a bad baby, we'll keep you on the feeding gag." Then she released the flow, and a rather sticky liquid began oozing out of my gag and into my mouth. I had to swallow if I didn't want to choke, and the action of swallowing drew even more food into my mouth. I had no choice but to keep swallowing and swallowing. "You see, Bobby," said Cathy. "This isn't a very

pleasant way to be fed. So be a good baby, and you'll earn a spoon feeding."

I resolved that I would cooperate, because I sure didn't want to be fed this

way for much longer. After what seemed an eternity, the bag was empty, and Cathy removed the feeding gag, but immediately replaced it with a pacifier strapped into my mouth. "Just to remind you that you're not allowed to talk," said Cathy. Then she let me out of the high-chair and led me back to the nursery.

"Now its potty time," said Cathy. "As I told you before, this is the one time

a day we let you sit on your potty and do your poo-poos. If you don't do them now, then we'll have to clean you out later. As I said, we don't want dirty diapers around here". I saw that in front of each crib, there was now an adult-sized but baby-styled potty chair. Some were shaped like ducks, others like frogs. Mine was a turtle. There were already a few other babies sitting on their potty chairs straining to do their business. Cathy unpinned my diaper, and sat me on my potty, strapping me in. I certainly didn't want an enema, but sitting here in full view of half-a-dozen women and ten other "babies", I was so embarrassed that I couldn't do anything. After twenty minutes, we were all let off our potties, and the attendants checked the results. "Bad boy", Cathy said to me, as she pinned back on my diaper. "I warned you what would happen if you didn't poo-poo now. Just wait till later. I'm sure you'll learn that you're much better off doing it now." One more thing for me to worry about!

Next, it was time for our morning punishments. Cathy explained that these

weren't punishments for things we did wrong here, but rather, part of the

punishment that we were sent here to receive in the first place. Cathy checked my chart and said, "I see you are scheduled for a good one now. Come on, Bobby." She led me out of the nursery and down another corridor, into a door marked "Punishment Room C". The room was full of all sorts of strange looking contraptions, most of which I couldn't figure out what they did at all. But none of them looked very pleasant. I was led over to a low padded stool, and my diapers were removed. I was told to bend over the stool, and soon I was attached to the stool by both wrists and ankles. In addition, a leather belt was strapped around my tummy, further securing me to the stool. I couldn't move, or even squirm much. Cathy turned on a switch, and a motor started up. I strained my neck to see what was happening, and saw two paddles attached to armatures. First one, then the other swatted my backside. Cathy adjusted some

controls, to fine-tune the positioning of the swats, and then adjusted the

speed to about 1 swat every 5 seconds. She also adjusted the strength of the swats to a position marked 5 on a 1-to-10 scale. "That should be good for your first go at our spanking machine. Enjoy yourself, I'll be back in a while".

She gave me no clue as to how long I was to be left at the mercy of the

diabolical machine. It didn't take long before my backside really started

feeling sore, and involuntarily, I started to whimper, just like a little kid

getting a spanking. The pacifier was still strapped in my mouth, so I couldn't make any more noise even if I wanted to. I must have been left on the machine for about 30 minutes, which means I must have gotten a total of 360 swats. When Cathy finally turned the machine off and let me up, tears were running down my cheeks, and I was sobbing uncontrollably through my pacifier gag.

I guess they realized they had to show some mercy on the prisoners here,

because Cathy rubbed some soothing cream onto my backside, as she re-diapered me. "There, there, Bobby! It's all over for now." She comforted me as she led me into the playroom. It was a large room filled with toys, and there were about a half dozen other adult babies playing or just resting. All of them had pacifiers strapped in their mouths, just like I did, so none of us could talk. All we could do is make little baby noises. I laid down on my side and started to absentmindedly play with some blocks as I waited for the pain in my backside to subside some. Soon, I fell into a light sleep, which was interrupted by Cathy coming back and announcing that it was lunch time. We were led back into the dining room, and I was once again fed my lunch through the feeding gag. Cathy told me, "If you're a good baby for the rest of the day, maybe we'll let you eat your dinner from a spoon."

After lunch came nap-time, and I was locked back in my crib for my nap. As I was laying there, the realization came that I had to move my bowels. I

realized that I was in trouble because I would have no choice but to dirty my diapers, and I knew that I would be punished for it. So I tried to hold it in, but eventually the cramps grew too strong, and I just had to let go and push it out. When Cindy came around to let me up from my nap and checked my diapers to see if I needed changing, the "accident" was very apparent. "Bad baby Bobby! You wouldn't do your poo-poos in the potty this morning, like you were told. You had to do them in your didee. You're going to be sorry!" Since my movement, I had been laying on my side or my stomach to avoid spreading the mess around. Now Cindy turned me on my back, and pushed me down to make sure I sat right in my own mess, and then strapped me down. "First of all, you'll spend the rest of the afternoon laying in your dirty diapers. Maybe that will teach you not to play a trick like that again. And then afterwards, we'll have more surprises for you!" All the other babies were let out and allowed to play, but I was left there strapped in my crib. Of course, I had to wet soon, and that made the mess even more sticky.

Several hours later, I was finally let up from my crib, and taken to the

changing room and cleaned off. But then, as I had feared, I was strapped down over a stool, my wrists and ankles secured, and then a large tube inserted in my rectum. "This is to teach you a lesson for your stunt this afternoon," Cindy said, as she proceeded to inflate the retention cuff, preventing me from expelling the enema tube. The inevitable flow started, and I felt the warm, soapy water start to fill my bowels. I think she let two quarts into me before she stopped the flow, and disconnected the tubing. She left the tube and cuff in my rectum, so I couldn't release any of the liquid. Then she proceeded to rediaper me with very thick diapers, and two layers of heavy plastic pants, and locked me back in my crib. My wrists were secured to the crib sides, so there was no way I could interfere with the plug in my rectum. "This way, you'll be sure not to have any accidents for a while", she said as she left me alone. I wondered how long I was going to have to hold this enema in me. As the cramps started to get worse and worse, I wondered if I would survive at all. After about 30 minutes, Cindy came back and released the catch on the tubing,

deflating the cuff, but left the diapers and plastic pants on. Almost

immediately, I started expelling the liquid into the diaper. It felt good to

release it, but now I was sitting in all this smelly dirty water. The diaper

and plastic pants were thick enough to make sure it all stayed inside. Cindy attached my legs to the crib mattress, thus leaving me spread-eagled. "You'll stay this way all night, Bobby. Maybe next time you'll learn not to mess your diapers. Oh, and since you'll be missing your regular dinner, we'll have to make sure you get your nourishment anyway." She strapped on a feeding gag, set up a feeding bag on a stand next to my crib, and started the flow. I had no choice but to keep swallowing as the fluid poured into my mouth. After about 15 minutes, the bag was empty, and soon Cindy was back to detach the tubing, but left the gag in my mouth. "Pleasant dreams, Baby Bobby," she said as she left me for the night.

As I lay there, I considered my plight. I had been in the Punishment Place

only about 24 hours, and I had already undergone discomfort and humiliation the likes of which I had never even dreamed about. And I was sentenced to spend another SIX WHOLE DAYS here. One thing was sure. When I got back home, I would never again give my roommate any excuse to punish me again!

Somehow, I did manage to get some fitful sleep that night, despite the

uncomfortable position I was bound in. Sunday morning, I was once again awakened and, thankfully, changed out of my very messy diapers into clean, dry ones. At breakfast, I was finally allowed to be spoon-fed some baby cereal, and given my formula from a bottle. My feeder made sure that at least some of the food ended up on my chin, and then chided me for being a "messy baby".

Then came potty time again, but Cathy told me that while I was going to be put on the potty, I wasn't necessarily expected to do anything, since I was pretty thoroughly cleaned out last night. But surprisingly, I did have some more to eliminate, and this time, I was able to do it in the potty despite the

embarrassment. When I was let up, Cathy told me I was a very good baby.

Nevertheless, I still had to go for my morning punishment. This time, I was

led over to a very diabolical-looking contraption. It consisted of a large

turntable, mounted vertically over a pool of water. There were straps for

neck, arms, waist, thighs and ankles on the turntable, and I was soon tightly strapped in. Then the turntable was started up at a very slow rate of speed,

about 1 revolution per minute. I was positioned so that for about 20 seconds out of every minute, my head would be dunked into the water. That wasn't long enough for me to really have any breathing problems, but nevertheless, it certainly wasn't a very pleasant sensation. And the water was freezing cold! Cathy left me without, of course, telling me for how long I had been sentenced to be left spinning round and round. I tried to keep count of the revolutions, but soon lost track. I think they must have left me turning for about an hour. I was in quite a sorry state by the time Cathy stopped the motor, unstrapped me, and toweled me off.

That afternoon, at nap time, I found myself strangely excited. So I lay in my

crib on my tummy, and started to rub myself against the rubber sheet. The

sensation of my penis pressing hard against the damp diaper really felt good, and it didn't take long to work myself to a climax. But as soon as I had climaxed, there was Cindy standing over my crib. "Naughty, naughty, Baby Bobby! That's not allowed here. We'll have to do something to make sure you can't do such naughty things!" Cindy shortly returned with a syringe and a plastic sheath. First she injected me with the syringe, which instantly made my penis go flaccid. She then slipped the sheath onto my penis. It fit tightly around my flaccid penis. It was open at the head so as not to interfere with my diaper-wetting. It was held on by a chain wrapped tightly around my scrotum, and locked with a tiny key. There was no way I could remove the sheath by myself. I felt that the inside of the sheath was covered with small studs - not sharp enough to puncture the skin, but certainly enough to be noticed. It was obvious what the purpose of the sheath was. Any time I began to grow erect, my penis would be pushed painfully against the inside of the sheath. There was not nearly enough room for me to grow fully erect. I certainly wasn't going to be able to satisfy myself with that sheath on, and any time I was stimulated, I was in for a painful period until I could control myself and lose the erection. "There," Cindy said. "That will keep you from being naughty again. And it gives us another way to have some fun with you!"

I wondered what she meant by that last remark, but I was sure that when I found out, it wouldn't be pleasant! My diaper was repinned on, and I was released from my crib and allowed to go into the playroom for afternoon playtime.

That evening, after being spoon-fed a dinner of strained turkey and noodles, I was led by Cindy and Cathy into a room. My diapers and plastic pants were removed, and I was secured in a chair with wrist and ankle cuffs. My sheath-covered penis was visible for the two of them to see. Then both of them proceeded to perform a very sensuous strip-tease. The purpose was obviously to excite me so that I would feel the pain of my penis expanding against the studded sheath. As hard as I tried, I was unable to prevent the inevitable result. After about 15 minutes of this exhibition, the girls redressed, refastened my diapers and plastic pants, and released me from the chair.

"Wasn't that fun, Bobby?," chided Cindy. "We'll have to do that again

sometime!" As I was led back into the playroom, I was feeling both the pain of my sore penis, and the frustration of not being able to come to climax, as well as the humiliation of the whole scene. They really know how to punish someone here!

When bedtime came, Cathy came over to my crib and said, "We always tell our babies to "Sleep Tight". Well, tonight, Bobby, as part of your punishment, you're going to be sleeping VERY tight!" She unfolded a leather and canvas garment, into which I was placed. It covered me from my neck to the soles of my feet. My arms were inserted into internal pockets, and the whole thing was zipped and then strapped up very tightly. I couldn't move a muscle. Then to top it off, a tight leather hood was placed over my head. Now I could neither see, hear, nor speak. Only small holes around my nose allowed me to breathe. I was left in this tight, dark confinement for the night. I didn't think I would be able to sleep at all, but I think I was able to catch a few cat-naps throughout the night. Of course, I had no way to know the time, and when awake, just had to lie there wondering when I would be released from this confinement. Finally, I felt my crib being unlocked, and soon hands were removing the hood from my head. Immediately, a pacifier was placed in my mouth, as Cindy said, "We'll let you stay in your sleepsack for just a bit longer while we get all the other babies ready for breakfast." My muscles ached from the confinement, and I wanted to protest, but by now I knew better than to try to say anything. Eventually, she came back and unstrapped me. I

really felt relieved as I was able to exercise my stiff muscles. I wondered

what else they had in store for me at this place.

Monday morning, after pooping in my potty like a good boy, I was pleasantly surprised when Cindy told me, "You had a hard time of it yesterday, what with the penis sheath, and the sleepsack. So we'll let you skip your morning punishment today. We'll just give you a short spanking to remind you that you're still being punished". After all the diabolical punishments I had been subjected to lately, a simple spanking seemed like a relief. But the spanking still hurt, and in addition, it stimulated me enough to remind me painfully of the sheath on my penis. The rest of that day was very uneventful. I did nothing that earned me any extra punishments, and wasn't treated to any special "surprises". At bedtime, I was put into handcuffs and leg-irons for the night "just to remind you", but compared to what I had to put up with the night before, I was practically unbound. And I only had another four days to go. Maybe I was going to survive after all!

Tuesday morning, however, my bowels didn't want to cooperate and make my life easier. I couldn't do anything in my potty at potty time. Cindy scolded me, and then proceeded to insert a rubber plug up my anus before diapering me.

"This will make sure that your poo-poo doesn't come out until we want it to. We don't want any repeat of what happened the last time you didn't potty!" Then I was led to my punishment for the day. This time, I was led to a device that was a combination pillory and stocks. I was made to sit on a hard wooden bench. My legs were stretched out and clamped by the ankles into two holes in the lower part of the device. Then my wrists and neck were clamped into holes in the upper part of the device. It was all locked tight by two heavy padlocks. "Have fun! See ya later!" crowed Cindy as she left me. The situation was made even worse by the large rubber plug in my anus. Because my feet were off the floor, more of my weight rested on my backside on the hard bench, which put lots of pressure on the plug. In addition, the presence of the plug served to stimulate my penis, which was, of course, still trapped in the plastic sheath which made it painful to expand. Before long, my breakfast bottles proceeded to make me wet my diaper, making it even more uncomfortable

to sit there. And then, to top it all off, I started to feel the need to move

my bowels, which of course was impossible in the situation. By the time Cathy came in to visit me, two or three hours later, I was a pretty sorry baby. And then to my surprise and horror, she didn't release me, but began to feed me a quart bottle of formula for lunch. "Be a good boy and stay put", she said laughingly as she left, giving me no clue as to how long I was going to be left in this predicament.

It must have been close to 5 PM by the time I was finally released from that

punishment. My diapers were completely soaked through, and I desperately had to have a bowel movement. But as soon as the diapers and butt-plug were removed, an enema nozzle was inserted in its place. As Cathy inserted it, she said, "Maybe this will teach you that you need to do your poo-poos in the potty!" I had to suffer through an enema, and a 10-minute spanking before I was finally allowed to relieve myself. Fortunately, nothing else special happened that evening. But I had to sleep in the "fetal position" that night, since my wrists were attached to my thighs with 2-inch chains. By this time, though, I was able to sleep almost any way they left me!

Thankfully, my bowels cooperated on Wednesday morning. And once again, it looked as if it were going to be a light punishment day, as I was only given a spanking after breakfast before being brought in the playroom. But during playtime, another adult baby named Sammy threw a block and hit me on the head. So I threw it back at his head, and before long we were really fighting. Cindy came over and dragged us both out of the room. "Bad, bad babies! You should know better than that! Now you'll see how we treat bad boys that fight with each other here!" First we both were bent over punishment stools, attached at ankles and wrists, and given long, hard spankings. I was really sore, since I had just had a spanking earlier that morning! Then, our plastic pants were removed but our diapers (which were already a bit damp) left on. Then we were

positioned standing face to face, as Cindy unfolded an extra-large diaper, and pinned it tightly around both of us. A huge pair of rubber pants were pulled up over both our legs and around the diaper. Then our ankles were bound to each other. We were told to place our arms around each other, and our wrists were handcuffed behind each others backs. To top it off, a special double-ended pacifier gag with two nipples was placed in our mouths and strapped on behind our necks. Each time one of us moved our head even slightly, the other one felt it. "By the time we let you out of this, I think the two of you will learn to cooperate VERY well," said Cindy. It took quite a while to develop the coordination necessary for us to walk, and of course, there was no way we could sit down. We each knew whenever the other one had wet his diaper. The contact and the wetness in that area was stimulating, but of course that was just another problem to me as I had my penis sheath on.

Apparently, Sammy was not similarly encumbered, because I felt him climaxing and ejaculating once.

At lunch time, we discovered that our double-ended pacifier gag was also a force-feeding gag, as some extra tubing was connected to the outside of the gag, and formula started to flow into both of our mouths simultaneously. At nap time, Cindy changed our joint diapers and then helped us into my crib, where we had to lay on our side. We were left that way for the rest of the afternoon. At dinner time, we were once again force fed through our gag. Finally, just before bedtime, we were released, as Cindy said "I hope you've learned your lesson, babies." But we were made to spend the night handcuffed to each other by one wrist as we were put to bed in my crib.

Thursday morning, the handcuffs stayed on through breakfast and potty time, as we sat their on adjacent potties trying to do our thing. Fortunately, both of us succeeded. Then Cathy took us both into a Punishment Room. This was a very small room, with tiled walls and a stone floor. In the center of the room was something that looked like an ordinary see-saw except that it had restraints at each end to keep the victims in place. "The two of you get along so well, that we thought we would give you a joint punishment today. Besides being uncomfortable, like all our punishments, this one teaches cooperation very well!" We were both strapped in, and Cathy encouraged us to begin using it like a see-saw, which we did. I really couldn't see what this punishment was all about. Then Cathy left, and the room began to fill with water. When it stopped, we discovered that the water level was such that if we balanced on the see-saw, both our heads would be under water. Only if one of us submerged himself, could the other's head be above water. That was what Cathy meant about cooperation. We were left there for about an hour, see-sawing back and

forth. Eventually, we heard a pump start up and the water started draining

out. When it was all drained, Cathy came back in and released it. We both looked like drowned rats! "Very good, babies. I see you learned to cooperate with each other!" We were both dried off, rediapered and brought back to the play room, finally unattached from one another.

That evening, just before bedtime, Cindy took me out of the playroom, and said to me, "Bobby, you've been here for more than six days now, and I think you've learned a lot of lessons from your experiences. Just to make sure you think about all you've learned, we're going to let you spend tonight back in the meditation room." So back down the stairs we went, and once again, I was left chained in the darkness to meditate. This time, it must have been more than 12 hours before Cindy came back to release me.

After breakfast and potty time, Cindy took me into an office, and said, "Bobby, you're time here is almost over. I hope you've learned your lesson well. You realize that we offer our clients a guarantee, so that if Billy has any more trouble with you during the next year, he'll be able to send you back here for more punishment at half-price. And the punishment we give to returnees is much more severe than anything you have experienced. Billy has asked us to have you sign this agreement, with the understanding that if you violate any part of it, you will be returned here." Cindy handed me a sheet of paper. The agreement stated, "The undersigned, Bobby, agrees to obey his roommate Billy completely.

He will do all housework that Billy asks him to do quickly, properly and

without complaining. He will keep his room neat and clean. He will wear

diapers to bed every night, and any other time Billy tells him to, and he will

wash all his diapers and baby clothes. Any violation of these rules will

result in Bobby being returned to "The Punishment Place" for further

discipline." Cindy said, "If you don't want to sign this, then you must move

out of Billy's house immediately." I didn't want to move out, so I had no

choice but to sign the agreement. And having signed it, I had every intention of keeping it. I had no desire to return for more punishments!

Then Cindy let me put my regular clothing on over my diapers (there was a BIG bulge in the pants!) and led me into the reception room, where Billy was waiting to take me home. "I hope you learned your lesson well this week, Bobby," said Billy as we left "The Punishment Place".

[pampywamp]

i hpe bobby messes up love 2 hear whats in store 4 him

[bad ab]

go on please

[diaperpt]

go on please

Sorry. This was someone else's story. This is all there was. i thought it was fun, but I'm not really interested in making it any longer. It is a fun story though, isn't it?

[willnotwill]

Sorry. This was someone else's story. This is all there was. i thought it was fun, but I'm not really interested in making it any longer. It is a fun story though, isn't it?

There wasn't any more of it, but there was a couple of other Punishment Place stories that should be kicking around in cyberspace.