Friday, January 17, 2025

My Funny Farm - Chapter 4 – Trouble In Whoville – Part 2 of 2

 

My Funny Farm

By Karen Singer

 

Chapter 4 – Trouble In Whoville – Part 2 of 2

 

Several hours later, I was still there.  Still tied up on the floor.  Still suffering with that damn big gag in my mouth.  My backside was sore and itchy.  Painful really.  I couldn’t tell anyone how it felt because of that damn gag.  How long were they going to keep me like that?  I knew I had been lying there for several hours, not because of the clock, but because of the changing cartoons on TV.

Jared had never come back downstairs, and now Emily had disappeared as well.  Both of them leaving me alone and helpless.  Had they disappeared because I stank too much and didn’t want to be around me?  If that was the case, then they should have taken care of the problem.  Or better still, untie me and remove those damn mitts from my hands so I could take care of the problem myself.  I desperately longed for a good very long hot shower!

“Damn it all,” I heard Emily mutter as she finally returned.  Would she finally untie me?  I could only hope.  Would she finally change me?  I hoped for that even more.  Would she let me free so I could change myself and get cleaned up?  I had pretty much given up all hope about that.

“Shit!” she swore softly as she knelt down over top of me and began removing the straps that were binding my hands and legs.  “I guess I’m going to have to do this myself,” she fumed softly.

Was there trouble in Whoville?  It sounded like it.  If she didn’t want to deal with what a mess I was, then why did she make me go through it in the first place?  Not to mention, why didn’t she just let me deal with it all myself?

She helped me to my feet and led me into my bedroom where she had me get on top of my bed.  I noticed that the bed was still unmade, and everything looked just like when I had left it earlier that day – a mess!  She had me lay down on top of that protective pad that also needed to be changed, and she carefully began removing my diaper.

“Pew!  You stink!” she told me as she peeled it back.  She hadn’t said it unkindly, but again I wondered why she had made me mess myself if she didn’t want to deal with it.  She carefully used my wet and messy diaper to wipe my bottom off before taking the filthy smelly thing away.  I was glad to be rid of it.  She came back a minute later and began cleaning my sore backside…and her wiping hurt!

She chuckled.  “Somebody here has diaper rash.”

I was guessing it wasn’t her.

“Serves you right for being bad!” she told me.

Serves me right?  Okay, after being tied up and kept in that messy diaper so long, and now having to deal with diaper rash, not to mention that darn big…thing…still in my mouth, I had good reason now to think twice about…uh…being bad.

Once cleaned up and diapered again, she took me into the kitchen and sat me down at the table.  Uh…sitting with diaper rash isn’t fun.  Another reason to think twice about being bad.  I waited there while she worked around in the kitchen.  She came back a few minutes later and set a plate with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on it in front of me.  She freed that same left hand for me so I could eat the sandwich myself.  Then finally, finally, finally…she pulled that damn gag out of my mouth.  Instant relief!  I was so grateful to have it gone.

“Eat!” she ordered.

So I did.  Gladly!  While I was working on that sandwich, she brought me another baby bottle full of baby formula.  How to kill any kind of decent taste in your mouth!  I ignored the formula and finished the sandwich.

When I was done, she again bound my hand up in that mitt, pulled me out of my chair, which briefly set my diaper rash on fire, picked up my still full baby bottle, and pulled me all the way into the bedroom.

“Nap time,” she declared.

She laid me down on my bed, pulled the covers over me, and stuck that damn bottle nipple in my mouth.

“Hold it!” she ordered.  “And when I come back in a little while with your pacifier, that bottle had better be empty!”

Yeah, something told me she was serious about that.  I laid there sucking on that horrible tasting bottle while she left me.  When I was done, I tossed the bottle onto the floor.  I laid there happy to not have anything in my mouth for a while, despite the bad flavor that now was all I could taste.

How was I going to get out of this mess?  It was a life I certainly didn’t want.  I had to do something.  Anything!

But what?

 

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On Monday morning, I knew that both Emily and Jared had to go to work.  Were they actually going to bring Mrs. Lowrey in to watch over me all day?  From what little I could see, it sure seemed like it.  Trust me, that concerned me.  Not only did I not want to be in my current babified position, but I certainly didn’t want anyone else to see me that way.

At least I had a clean diaper on when Mrs. Lowrey showed up, and Emily and Jared went out the door, but my hands were still bound up in those damn mitts they didn’t seem to be interested in taking off me.  The only thing other than my diaper that I was wearing was a t-shirt.  Oh, and my pacifier.

I wasn’t just embarrassed when she walked in and saw me sitting on the living room floor in front of cartoons, I was mortified.  I’m sure my face turned several shades of red, and I’m not talking about because of possibly trying to do anything to put something else in my diaper.

She came in and stood there, looking at me.  “Hm!” she said.  “They said they were doing it, but I wasn’t sure if I believed it.  But, well, here you are.  No matter, I guess.  If I can deal with you one way, then I can deal with you like this too.  Don’t worry about a thing.  I spent a long time talking with Emily on the phone and she gave me a list of everything I need to do for you.  It’s no problem at all.”

With that, she sat down in one of the chairs and pulled out a book, and ignored me.  I guess I was supposed to go back to watching cartoons on TV.  Which I did since I had nothing better to do.

All day, Mrs. Lowrey fed me…literally, changed me, gave me my bottles, and put me down for a nap.  At least she was nice about everything, unlike a certain other two people that I knew.  The longer I was in her care, the more like a baby I was beginning to feel.  I wasn’t even trying very hard to hold back and keep my diapers dry.  What was the use?

Eventually, Emily and her non-husband came home from work, and Mrs. Lowrey went out the door.

“At least he doesn’t smell,” Jared declared as he walked into the living room.

“Yeah.  Fortunately,” Emily agreed.

The night before, Emily had layered two diapers on me, cutting holes in the first one so that my pee could leak out into the second one.  I had still leaked a bit when I woke up the next morning.  This time when she put me to bed, she layered three of those diapers on me.  Trust me, the padding felt…uh…extreme.

When the light was turned out and I was stuck being attached to the bed, I discovered that I couldn’t get comfortable laying on my side because of the uncomfortable bulk between my legs.  But that bulk was nothing compared to how bad things got later as the diapers continued to swell all night due to my overactive bladder.  By morning, they were absolutely awful.  But…I didn’t notice a single wet spot anywhere around me.  Was that progress, or what?

Tuesday started out like Monday, but before long, Emily came home from work, and Mrs. Lowrey departed for a while.  What really worried me was that Tuesday was the day when we had been going to see that psychologist, Doctor Clive.  I couldn’t believe that Emily still intended on taking me there.  And if she did, would she let me wear anything other than a diaper and a t-shirt?  I nearly cheered when she brought me into the bedroom and started pulling my regular clothes out of the closet.

No, she didn’t release me in any way.  She simply dressed me.  It was good to be wearing a regular shirt again.  It was even better to be wearing pants, even if they were over top of a slightly wet diaper.  Shoes and socks were nice too.  Having to keep the pacifier in my mouth was not nice, but I wasn’t being given a choice.  And I couldn’t believe it when she grabbed my hand and pulled me out to the car, still wearing those darn mitts on my hands to keep them useless.  How was she going to explain them to the doctor?  I couldn’t wait to find out.

With me buckled into the back seat, she drove to the doctor’s office, then got out of the car and opened the back door for me.  She unbuckled my seatbelt because I certainly couldn't do it myself.  But she stopped right there and grabbed one of my hands.  One by one, she took those crazy mitts off of me.  I was so happy about that.  My left hand got let lose once in a while so I could eat, but this was the first time in days that my right hand was loose as well.  Straightening out my fingers was painful and wonderful at the same time.  I exercised my hands as best I could as she held my hand and led me all the way into the building…while in my head I was planning what I wanted to do.

We sat and waited in the reception area for a bit before finally getting in to talk with the psychologist.

“Hello Mr. Bryson.  How are you?” Doctor Clive greeted me kindly.

She had greeted me so nicely.  I appreciated that.  But it wasn’t going to stop me!  I pulled the pacifier from my mouth, ready to let loose.  “I’m…”

Emily quickly grabbed my arm before I could say anything else.  She led me to a chair and had me sit before she sat down herself.  “He’s probably not happy,” she told the doctor.  “We…the entire family that is…have started a new therapy for him.  One that I have no doubt he’s not happy about.”

“Therapy?” the doctor asked, completely surprised.  “What kind of therapy?”

“Simply put, we’re going by what he said he’d like, and treating him completely like a baby.  We’re taking care of everything for him, so he doesn’t have to worry about a thing.”

“Oh, how nice,” the doctor replied with a smile on her face.  She looked at me.  “It sounds like your family found a way to give you exactly what you wanted.  Aren’t you happy?”

“Happy!  Are you kidding?  No!”

“Stop it!” Emily said sternly.  I ignored her, and so did the psychologist.

Doctor Clive seemed surprised.  “Why not?  I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“They don’t allow me to do anything!”

“Stop!” Emily tried again.

“Like what?” Clive asked.

“Like…I can’t even use the bathroom anymore.  Under my pants, even now, they’ve got me in a diaper.  And then after I wet myself, I’m not even allowed to ask to be changed.”

“So you’re saying they took into account all those things we mentioned about how much old people and babies are alike, and tried to give them to you…kind of like you wanted.  Right?” the doctor said.

“Like I wanted?  Let me tell you, until a few minutes ago, they were keeping my hands bound up in some kind of mittens so I couldn’t use them for anything.  I’m not allowed anywhere near a bathroom and have to use my diaper for everything.  I’ve got a painful diaper rash right now because they refused to change me just because I got mad and protested the cruel way they’re forcing me to live.  They punished me by tying me up and leaning me painfully against the wall, then when they pulled me away from the wall they left me tied up that way for hours!  I haven’t worn anything but a diaper and t-shirt since it started, and that’s even if I get a t-shirt to wear.  And I’m sick to death of drinking nothing but baby formula from a bottle.  I hate it!  I hate it all, but I’m not being given a choice in any of it.  Right from the start they all ambushed me, the whole family, and forced me into this.  All I want is my freedom…and them gone…out of my life.  I can’t believe my own grandchildren would treat me this way, and that includes my own children as well.”

The doctor looked completely shocked.  She turned toward Emily.  “You didn’t discuss this with him first?”

“Of course not.  We knew he wouldn’t like it.  We know it’s a bit unusual, but it’s what he said he wanted, and the bottom line is that it’s for his own good!  Not to mention, it goes right along with his favorite form of porn that he likes to look at.”

“And your entire family is in on this?” the doctor asked.

“Yes!  All of us.”

“Who’s all of you?  Tell me.”

“Mom and Dad.  My Aunt and her husband.  And my two cousins and their spouses.”

The doctor continued to look stunned for a few moments as she looked straight at Emily.

“So…ten of you then, is that right?”

I could see Emily counting it up in her head.  “Yeah.  All of us.”

“That’s it!” Doctor Clive said suddenly with a big wave of her hand.  “We’re done here today.”  She looked back and forth between Emily and me, then settled her gaze directly on me.  “You,” she said.  “I want to see you back here in one week!”  She turned her gaze directly at Emily.  “And you!” she said angrily.  “I want to see you, and your entire family right here for one big family session tomorrow!  And when he comes next week, I’m going to see him alone!  Nobody else, just him and me, like this is supposed to be.”

“The family can’t come,” Emily told her.  “We all work.  And trust me, most of them won’t come anyway.”

“Then book a session with my receptionist for tomorrow evening.  But I want all of your family here, every last one of you, tomorrow night.  Ten people!  Because if we don’t get some things straightened out right away, then I’m going to call the police and have you all charged with wrongful imprisonment!  And probably a few other things as well.  I’ll have no problem sending you all to jail!  So be here.  Tomorrow night.  Every last one of you.  Or jail…for all of you!”

 

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