"Young lady!" Nanny's voice was like a whipcrack. "Do you care to explain why this nappy isn't full of poo-poo?"
"Please, Nanny..." Sasha whimpered, but her kidnapper grabbed hold of her diaper's waistband and tugged it upwards, hard. The leg-bands bit uncomfortably into her skin, and the clammy, sodden padding squelched against her privates. She let out a feeble mewl of disgust.
"You've been here all morning, you naughty girl!" Nanny scolded. "You must have needed to go poo by now, and I thought I made it quite plain that you are to fill your pants the moment you feel the urge."
"But I don't... I don't want... Please just let me go, Nanny! Please!"
"How many times do I have to tell you?" The older woman delivered a hard smack to her thickly padded behind. "I'm not letting you go until you've been completely un-potty trained, little lady. That means losing control of your poo-poos as well as your pee-pees. The sooner that happens, the sooner you can go back to your friends and family. Won't it be nice to see them again after such a long time?"
Sasha pulled uselessly against her restraints, even though the last few weeks (or had it been months?) had taught her it was futile. Whether she was in her crib, her playpen, or tied to her punishment cross, she was bound securely at all times. "Please!" she begged. "You've already taken myβ¦ my bladder controlβ¦ Please don't take... donβt take the other thing too... Don't make me a... a..."
"A Pamper-packer?" Nanny suggested, smirking nastily. "A diaper-dumper? A stinky little mush-tush tot? Sorry sweetie, but it's not enough to make you waddle around in wet nappies for the rest of your life. I want you making big, yucky messes in them too. I won't be satisfied unless you're a total baby when it comes to your toileting."
"But why?!" Sasha wailed, tears spilling down her cheeks. "Why are you doing this to me?!"
"Because it's fun, of course!" Nanny tittered. "The moment I saw you strutting down the street, full to the brim with confidence, I just knew I had to make you incontinent. Donβt you think thatβs hilarious? A self-assured woman spending the rest of her life making whoopsies in her pants like a two-year-old?β
Sasha struggled violently for a few seconds, but no amount of anger could get her free. "You'll go to prison!" she snarled. βYouβll spent the rest of your life in a cell, you freak!β
"No," Nanny said, with another titter, "I don't think so, soggy-britches. Neither you nor the authorities will have a hope of finding me. Still, hearing you make those naughty threats does make me wonder if I should just keep you here forever, as my baby. I could even train you to babble and crawl like one too... but no, I'll keep my word. I'll let you go once I'm done. But you'll be waddling back to your old life with a full nappy sagging between your legs, and that's final. Now are you going to make poopy in your pants like a good girl, or does Nanny have to fetch the cane?"