Potty Training Bootcamp

[willnotwill]

OK, I promise to finish The Toilet Permit.   I've already got a couple of unreleased chapters done.   But as mentioned in another posting, here's the beginning of Bootcamp

We filed into the room.   There was a quiet murmur as we took seats.    Nobody was really talking, we were all too nervous.    We had all enlisted in the Army for our own reasons.   We had notions of what this was going to be but nobody knew for sure.    I sat their with butterflies in my stomach until I heard a sharp “ten-SHUN.”     I looke dup and saw a bullet-shaped man in a uniform looking sternly at us.

“I said, ‘Attention!’” he repeated.    Some people in the room got the clue and rose to their feet.   The rest of us followed.    Finally, another man in a nicer uniform stepped past the bullet-shaped man.  “Thank you, Sergeant.   I know you’ll have the responding quicker in no time.   At ease.”   Those in the room relaxed, but we remained standing not knowing what to do.   “Be seated.”   We sat down.

“I am Captain Baker, the company commander here.    This is Sergeant Major Able.   He will be responsible for training you these next ten weeks.   Sergeant, they’re all yours.”    The sergeant snapped a salute as the captain left the room.

“Lesson one,” he barked at us.   “When an officer enters the room,   And that nice man in the suit with the shiny jewelry on the collar was an officer, the first person who notices him will shout ‘attention.’   Then you all shall stand up, shut up, bring your heels together, arms at your side, eyes to the front.   Let’s try that again, TEN-SHUN!”

This time we got quickly to our feet.   “Still pretty sloppy,” he said.   “But you will work on it, and you will get better.   Ain’t that right?”

“Yes, sir,” a couple replied.

“Yes, Drill sergeant,” Able corrected.

“Yes, Drill sergeant,” we all said.

‘I can’t hear you,” he said.

“Yes, Drill sergeant!” we said with emphasis.

“At ease,” he said.   A few sat down, some stayed at attention, others just shrugged.

“TEN-SHUN,” he barked again.   We all rose again.

“Children, at ease means you can relax from the attention position, but you remain in your place and on your feet.   At ease.” We breathed out but remained standing.

“Now, in a few minutes, you are going to start your journey into becoming soldiers.   Now you are ignorant children.   Worse than that, some of you are hardly fetuses.   You’ll be aborted before you finish.    But for the rest of you, after I’m done with you, we may let you stay in my Army.    Before that happens, I have to teach you how to eat, sleep, walk, talk, shoot, shit like an Army soldier.”   The last line was delivered with increasing volume.   The shit part took me by surprised and I let out a laugh and then quickly swallowed it.

Baker moved to straight in front of me.   “Did you find something I said funny, fetus?”   Now, I couldn’t resist smiling.

“No, drill sergeant.”

“Then why are you laughing at attention when you should be silent?   Why do you have that silly grin on your face?”

“You said ‘shit,’ drill sergeant,”  I  replied, instantly knowing that I shouldn’t have bothered trying to make an excuse.

“I know what I said.   Everything I say has a purpose.   Everything I say, you will listen to and follow.   Get that, fetus?”

I regained my composure.  “Yes.  Drill sergeant,” I barked back.

“Good.”   He took a few steps back and turned to the group at large.   “Since this premature sack of cells brought it up,” he started.    This brought some chuckles, which were immediately stifled.  Able seemed not to take notice.   “Part of your training will involve learning how to take care of your bodily functions.    Some of you will take to that immediately.    Others will need more help.”   He turned toward me.  “Some of you may need a lot of help.”

“Now we’re going to walk to the next building.    There we will start your journey into maturing into soldiers. First, we’re going to have the doctors check you out.   Then we’re going to get you dressed appropriately.    Now I don’t expect you fetuses to be able to march, but let’s make this an orderly walk.   Single file, one behind another, eyes forward, no talking.   Got it?”

“Yes, drill sergeant,” came a room full of voices.

[willnotwill]

We shuffled several buildings over to another building.    Here, one by one, we gave our names, last name first, to a clerk.   He handed me a box with my name on it, and on top was a chain with my dog tags.

“Get undressed and put everything in the box.    You can keep your panties on, for now, boys and girls, but everything else needs to go in the box.   That includes watches, jewelry, earrings, and anything else you might have pierced.   I wanna see nothing but your panties and dog tags coming out of this room.”

I did as I was told.   I dumped my shoes and socks in the box, followed by my pants and shirt.    I was standing there in my boxers and put the dog tags around my neck.   I did one quick check and noticed I was still wearing my watch.   I quickly filed out of the room.    The sergeant and a couple of assistants were checking us as we left to make sure we had fully complied.    I passed that inspection.

I passed over the box with my clothes in the next room and followed the line of recruits to a person presiding over a scale.   I was weighed and had my height measured.    Next, another man took several measurements:  waist, chest, even shoe size.   I was handed a folder and pushed along.

At a following station, a stony-faced man in scrubs came at me with a tongue depressor and looked in my mouth and ears.   He produced a stethoscope and listened to my chest and back.   He took my folder, made some scribbles on the paper inside.   I went next to the next station.

“Shorts off,” the doctor there said.    I dropped mine to the floor.   “Turn your head and cough,” he said while holding my balls.   I did.   He had me turn, and I felt my butt cheeks spread for a second.   He plucked the folder from my hands and made his notes.   “Pick up your shorts,” he said, handing me back the folder.

At a last station, a man sitting at a desk took my folder, and to my surprise, my shorts.   He started looking through the folder.   I was looking ahead and could see lines of recruits picking up their uniforms from more clerks.    It looked like the examination was over.    I looked back a the man at the desk.  He was now looking carefully at my shorts.   He then did some more writing in my folder and then wrote a big red T on the outside of the folder.   He threw my shorts into a large bin behind him and directed me on.

I could see now that all the recruits ahead of me were now completely naked.   Our clothes other than our shorts were in the box.  Our underwear had been tossed into what I presumed was the trash.   We were being issued new clothes.   Army olive drag green from the skin out, it would appear.   I took a few steps toward the line heading to the issuance of clothing when the sergeant called to me.

“This way, baby.”

He was pointing toward a different, yet shorter line.

“What?”

“See that big red T on your folder?    It seems that you’re going to need some lessons in shitting after all.”   I had no idea what he was on about, but I had learned it was best not to rock the boat at this point.  “Yes, drill sergeant,” I replied and did as directed.

I made my way to the head of the line and was directed to a small booth.    A woman I presumed to be a nurse led me onto an examining table and had me lie down on my back.    She wasn’t bad looking though she had her hair cropped short in a tight military cut.   She turned away to get something, and I realized my penis was coming to attention.    She turned back and noticed immediately.

“You new guys are such letches.”  She reached under the table and brought up something, and touched it to my cock.    It felt like a million volts went through me.   My member immediately went limp.  “Good. At least you didn’t pee on me.”   She started wiping my rear end down roughly.    She then squeezed some goo on her gloved hands and started applying it to my crotch.    The smell was vaguely familiar.

“Is that Desitin?” I asked, putting it in context.

“We don’t want baby to get a diaper rash,” she said with a smile.

She then grabbed a green piece of cloth from behind her and slid it underneath me.  “Tushie up,” she said as she pulled it under my rear.   “Down,” she said, and I dropped down.   She brought the thing up through my legs and pinned it together.   I now realized what it was, a diaper.   “A diaper?” I said, out loud.

“Of course,” she said pulling a pair of plastic pants up my legs.   I raised my rear so she could slide that all the way up.   She dropped the folder on my chest and told me “Next station.”

I walked over to a counter where a clerk took my paperwork.   He handed me a T-shirt and shoes, again olive green, and told me to put them on.   I pulled the shirt over my head.  I looked at the shoes.   They were soft, gathered around the ankles, with no ties.   I slipped them on my bare feet.   I looked down.   GI baby booties is what they were.   The clerk pushed across a stack of more clothes and a back pack.

“Put everything in the pack,” he told me.   I did as I was instructed.   “One last thing.   He reached forward and clipped something to the chain holding my dog tags.    I was about to inspect it to see what it was when he pushed it in my mouth.    I felt the rubber bulb sit over my tongue.    A pacifier.

“Keep that in unless your drill instructor asks you a question.”   I nodded.

I walked out and found a bunch of similarly attired recruits standing there.   We were all wearing uniform t-shirts, plastic pants, and booties.    I could see through the translucence of the plastic pants, that we were all wearing the same olive drab diapers.

[Kaleros]

Interesting start, I wonder where things go from here.

[Little Baby Becca]

Hmmmm.....

[maly]

I like the start thanks.

Maly.