All My Caregiver's Punishments: Ronald's Diaper Discipline
(ABDL Novella | New Original Release)
Hello my little ones! I’m back with another brand new 100+ pages novella. Below is a free excerpt for you to enjoy, and you can find links to the full book at the bottom of the post. As always, thank you for all your support. 😘
Buy now on Amazon, Lulu, or Google Play!
[Full Novel Content Tags: ABDL, Diaper Domination, Regression, Psychological Manipulation and Conditioning, Sexual Humiliation, Degradation and Shame, Messy Diapers, Prolonged Messy Humiliation, Bodily Control and Surveillance, Enforced Dependence, Sexual Denial, Orgasm Control, Forced Chastity Themes, Physical Discipline and Spanking, Public Exposure and Embarrassment]
Excerpt: The Breakfast Enema
(Notice: The following features mature content in an ABDL role-play setting. All characters are over the age of 18. It is entirely fictional and shared for entertainment purposes only.)
The first thing I felt was wetness. Water being squeezed into me, into my behind.
I was groggy and confused.
“Hold still,” my Mommy ordered, pinning my wrists over my head while I felt her squeezing a large rubber bulb into my exposed anus. I realized my diaper had been pulled down just below my butt cheeks. It was early the next morning.
“Hey! What are you—ahhh, what are you—“ I squealed in protest from the incredibly strange and invasive sensation of water being shot up my behind.
My cries were answered with a sharp slap to my bottom from my Mommy.
“I said hold still, unless you want a second enema as well right after this one!” she scolded.
I whimpered as I felt my Mommy squeeze the rest of the soapy enema mixture deep into my rectum, making me squirm and whine.
“Every day, you’ll be starting your morning with an enema. If you hold it until after breakfast, you can release it on the potty. If you fail to hold it, and instead use your diaper like the baby you are, you’ll be forced to spend the rest of the morning stewing in your mess,” my Mommy explained.
“I can’t speak enough to how much a daily enema instills remarkably good discipline in a failed potty-trainer. And in any misbehaving little one in general,” I then heard Mrs. Galloway explain to my Mommy from behind her.
Once again, I felt an immediate instinct of panic at being exposed in such a humiliating way to Mrs. Galloway again, but the tight grip my Mommy had on me kept me from going anywhere.
“I’m so grateful you happened to be here when I finally hit the wall with this little brat last night,” my Mommy calmly replied to Mrs. Galloway, as if I wasn’t even there. “Already the supplies and wisdom you’re sharing with me have been invaluable.”
“Oh, please, I’m happy to help,” Mrs. Galloway calmly replied. “I know little Ronald here has been causing you to pull your hair out for months now. I’m just so glad to be helping you take charge again in your relationship. And it just so happens that I have a small lifetime of experience of punishing all sorts of naughty brats in my former career as a specialty nanny.
“Although none quite as big a baby as this one,” they both laughed. “But like I said, I have plenty more supplies where that came from. I just figured I’d bring my enema kit over for you this morning, given all our conversations last night,” Mrs. Galloway explained.
“And I’m so glad you did,” my Mommy replied. “Because you’re absolutely right. The belt can only go so far when it comes to finally putting someone like my naughty Ronald here in his place. We’re gonna have to teach him real humility. If he wants to act like a baby and embarrass me, then we’ll treat him like one all he wants,” my Mommy replied as she finished squeezing off the very last drops of the soapy enema bulb into my bottom.
I immediately wanted to start crying and begging for relief. I couldn’t believe the way they were talking about me, for starters. But far more pressing was how badly I suddenly had to use the toilet!
“Mommy! Please, let me up! I gotta… I gotta…” I started to beg as my Mommy pulled my diaper back up and re-taped it shut.
“You gotta… what? Come with me and Gam-gam to go eat breakfast like a good little boy? Yes, of course you do. That’s what I thought. Because I already said the potty was off limits till after breakfast,” my Mommy said, pulling me to my feet while she and Mrs. Galloway grabbed my arms and started walking me toward the kitchen together.
With every step, I already felt like I was about to explode into my diaper at any moment. By the time we finally reached the kitchen, I was almost relieved to get to sit down and make “holding it” easier by sitting on my bottom.
Of course, my relief was short-lived when I saw a giant plastic highchair in the kitchen full of buckles and restraints.
“Thank goodness I had this number in storage,” Mrs. Galloway explained, helping my Mommy sit me in the adult-sized highchair. “It was donated from a hospital at some point, and now I’m just so grateful it’s getting used.”
Then, when I did get seated, my tummy only started growling and moaning for release even angrier, especially when my Mommy pulled the harness strap over my tummy extra tight.
“Oooooohh,” I bellowed, my stomach ache now feeling unbearable.
“Oh, what a fussy little baby pants we have!” my Mommy teased. “He hasn’t even started eating yet and he’s acting like he’s already full.”
“Don’t let him fool you. He’s gonna whine about every single bite of the baby food mixtures we’re going to force him to eat,” Mrs. Galloway said as she plopped a large bowl of oatmeal and stewed prunes in front of me.
I stared down in disgust, unable to imagine taking a single bite.
“It’s all an act though. We’ll feed him just like a real baby if we have to,” Mrs. Galloway added, suddenly wrapping a bib around my neck and pinching my nose.
Before I even knew what was happening, my Mommy was forcing an extra large spoon of disgusting mush toward my mouth.
“Open up for the airplane!” she said in a sing-song voice, shoving the mixture into my mouth-hole that I was forced to open to breathe.
Both women laughed hysterically as the mash smeared across my lips and chin and down my bib as I choked and failed to swallow the repulsive mixture.
“God, I can’t believe I didn’t see what a baby he was earlier. I mean, look at this! This is just pathetic,” my Mommy cooed, wiping my face with my bib.
“Oh, sometimes it takes finally treating them their age to understand just how immature they really are. Once you see how well a diaper fits them, it’s hard to believe you let them keep soiling their underwear for weeks on end,” Mrs. Galloway commented.
A second bite was shoved into my mouth, this time with me actually managing to swallow some of the putrid mixture, despite my best efforts. Then a third.
Then, as if on cue, I suddenly couldn’t help but lift my bottom as high as I could in my highchair… and explode with a massive poopy mess into my diaper.
Both my Mommy and my new so-called Gam-gam erupted into even more hysterical laughter, making me eat more oatmeal and stewed prunes even faster.
“Oh look, he’s making room for us! What a good baby boy!” Mrs. Galloway joked, peering down the back of my diaper at the big mess I’d just pushed into the rear of my padding.
“Hah! Very funny. But good boys don’t poop their diapers during breakfast. They hold it like a big boy. So someone just earned their first extended session wallowing in their poopy mess,” my Mommy explained.
And as if to punctuate her point, my thighs finally gave out and I dropped back down onto the seat of my poopy diaper mess, immediately making me burst into tears at just how pathetic, gross, and babyish I already had become. Especially with the goopy slop still being forced into my mouth every few seconds, as the two of them made sure I continued gobbling down my disgusting breakfast mush, even in my stinky mess.
“Bad baby!” my Mommy scolded as she continued feeding me. “Bad, stinky baby! You can’t do anything right, can you? Can’t even keep your diaper clean like a big boy for the time it takes to eat breakfast! Naughty, naughty boy!”
“That’s right, Janet, don’t let him manipulate you with his crocodile tears. The moment you let him cry himself out of punishment, you’ll never be in control again,” Gam-gam encouraged my Mommy.
“Oh, don’t worry. I actually like seeing him cry. I like seeing him miserable and suffering like the pathetic little stinky baby he is. Because it’s high time he finally gets what he’s clearly been asking for—being treated the way he behaves,” my Mommy said.
And with that, both women laughed and continued jovially discussing how pathetic I was as they worked to continue forcing down every last bite of the huge disgusting bowl of oatmeal into my mouth while I sat in my first poopy diaper mess of adulthood.
And the worst part was, it was made very clear I now had no expectation of receiving a change anytime soon.
Buy now to read the rest of this (100+ pages) novella!
Buy on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0GMS29PS6
Buy on Google Play: https://play.google.com/store/books/details?id=A7TAEQAAQBAJ
Buy on Lulu: https://www.lulu.com/shop/nanny-chloe/all-my-caregivers-punishments-ronalds-diaper-discipline-an-abdl-novella/ebook/product-e76qgrw.html
Don't forget to also view my full collection of other naughty ABDL books at:
prguitarman
areudirty
theartofmadeline
germansingergirl
jacobvanloon
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