Telling Lindi The Bad News free porn video

A Script: Breaking the Bad News to Lindscom LaVerne "You look shocked and unhappy." "It's so sudden..." "But, darling, I told you about the possibility of Abigail's Nursery last year." "I didn't like it then and I don't like it now. So I forgot... I don't want to go... I'll be lonely... And it sounds like a prison..." "You won't be lonely. There'll be plenty of babies just like you. You'll make lots of friends... And as far as its being a prison, it's not really much different from here at home... Not really... You don't always get your own way here, and you have follow rules. They're just a little stricter; they won't let you argue or stamp your foot. You'll have to mind without complaint. Otherwise, they'll spank... That's the major difference..." "That's a huge difference, Mummy! First of all, I don't want lots of friends. And second of all, I like it here with you and Uncle Luke. It's too scary there... No one will protect me... I won't go!" "Lindi, stop being contrary! Enough! Do you hear me! Such tiresome, sissy nonsense--- 'Oh, poor little me, I'm so afraid!' My decision is final. Do you remember we agreed that I know what's best? Four years ago we signed the papers in Judge Sally's chambers that made me the adult caretaker and you the child. Do you recall? We were all in agreement then and nothing's changed since. It's very simple... Your health and welfare are primary. I'm the grown-up and you're the toddler. Your job is to obey and I decide all important matters. And you don't get to say no, little girl. Not now or ever... It's all very clear-cut and legal..." "But, Mummy, I'll miss you so! We've all had so much fun for all these years! Why should it end now?" "Yes, it was partly fun, honey-bunch---I admit---but it was a pale kind of fun, pretty thin gruel, and it became so one-sided... Everything was okay at the start. We had some laughs, you and I... But, for me, at least, it got boring, the same thing over and over... Nappies, nappies, nappies... Dirty nappies... Tons of them... You liked it, of course. Why wouldn't you? It was your kind of fun with me fingering your little wee- wee... You just lay back and everything got done. But the fact is that over time the day-to-day routine just got out-of-hand. It was too much... You didn't notice---why would you?---but it became overwhelming. No one could do it day after day! It's not just me, Lindi. The maids are exhausted and some are quitting. Luke is tired of the arrangement. Mother is too old for fulltime nanny duty anymore, even with Auntie Belle's help. That's why a lot of the time you smell of piss and poop and have to sit in a soggy nappy a lot longer than you should and wait for a change... It's not healthy or hygienic... People are starting to talk; they it's disgusting an adult baby sitting in a messy nappy... Plus, I can't get babysitters anymore... Girls think it's just too weird babysitting an adult dressed like a baby girl who's fully alert and mentally able." "I'll be better behaved, Mummy. I'll do what I'm told... I'll mind... I promise... They'll make fun of me there. No one will be there to protect me..." "Everybody there is just like you, honey. They're all big babies. And the nannies will protect you... That's their job... Abigail's is isolated, tucked away in the Central Highlands, surrounded by wind-swept moors, where hardly anyone lives and the climate is miserable, soggy heat in summer, cool and damp in winter... Plus, it has big walls all around. No one will gawk at you or make fun of you. It's not a zoo... You'll have your own room with a cot, toys to play with, and a pretty daytime nanny to take care of your needs, not a grumpy old mother-in-law or a bunch of mocking maids. At night there's a girl on fulltime duty. And wow! How cool is this! You get to go to preschool each day for sewing, dressmaking, water-coloring... Doll-making, too, in the wood shop for boy babies if they give you permission to go back occasionally to being a boy... The brochure says, Abigail's stuff sells worldwide and helps reduce patient costs. I signed the intake-papers yesterday. You're just going to love it there..." "How long do I have to stay? When can I come back home?" "It's for an indefinite stay, honey. I didn't set a time limit... They'll decide when... And Luke and I have to agree... It'll be when you're older..." "I knew it! No fair!!! You're getting rid of me! You're sick of me! And Uncle Luke hates me, too... No fair!!! I won't go!" "This is exactly what I mean! Here we go again! One minute you're promising to be good and respectful and the next minute you're having a melt-down. It's so predictable and irritating. Imagine! You sit there and make crazy accusations against the only people who care about you! You're so ungrateful. This is why you need placement at Abigail's... You need to learn some manners, young lady! Some gratitude... A place where they're strict and don't tolerate nonsense and back-talk! A place where a bit of intimidation would do you good and keep you from getting too comfortable and relaxed so you think you can yell out anything that comes into that pretty little head of yours... Abigail's motto is 'Obedience, Loyalty, Submission.' Tantrums aren't permitted! You'll do as they say or you'll pay the consequences. And if I can go by the pictures in the brochure---I'm not going to show them to you---they'll just terrorize you----those consequences aren't very pleasant, little one!" [Obviously traumatized by what he has just heard, Lindscom LaVerne spits out his pacifier and begins to bawl. His ex-wife, knowing she's gone too far, immediately softens her tone and tries to placate the poor sissy with a more soothing tone]. "Look, Lindi, I know this is hard for you. It's hard on us, too. Four years ago you didn't contest me becoming your guardian. You wanted it... You said it would be fun. You agreed and I took charge and decided everything. And the year before that, you were eager to relinquish everything... We transferred all the assets. Everything you had inherited became mine. A simple transfer from your name to mine... Remember? We signed the papers before a notary and you were as happy as a plastic duck in a bathtub. You said it made you feel extra-special babyish to have no adult responsibilities anymore. Remember? No bills to pay, no bank account to worry about, no credit cards to keep track of; we sold your car and cancelled your driver's license; you gave up your cell phone, your iPad, your tablet, your laptop, your silly little make- work office job, and I changed the password on the desktop computer downstairs so you couldn't use it---I can still remember how you laughed joyously when you were denied entry just like a real child---and I put a child's lock on the television and you couldn't have been happier... You're denied every adult privilege. You're as free as a bird now from every adult responsibility. You got your wish... You can't do the least little thing without asking---you can't even get a snack in the kitchen or ride a tricycle on the driveway without permission and a maid watching you. Even a five-year old can do more by herself than you're allowed... It's a world now of baby gates and locks on cabinets, and having to go up and down stairs on your rear end..." "I still like it this way, Mummy. I need to be supervised and looked after... I'm scared on my own... I don't like all the choices adults have to make... It's safer being a baby." "Of course, it is! I know you've lost your confidence, Lindi. I know you crave constant supervision... I know you need others to take charge and decide for you. This is the main reason I chose Abigail's. It's gone well beyond what we started four years ago... You were never satisfied with mere make-believe and pretending, with my being Mummy. No, to really enjoy it, you had to make it permanent, so there'd be no going back even if you wanted to. That's why you insisted on going to my spa after the papers were signed and having them shave your head and give you a full body wax including your pubs. And then you went back each day for a whole month afterwards to have the girls tie you down and gag you in the back room and rub you all over with that expensive super-cream I bought, to make the hair never grow back and turn your skin baby smooth and soft. Next came the months of teeth extraction---oh, how you cried and carried on until I finally agreed to find a qualified dentist, even though he had been decertified, to do it!---so now you can only eat liquefied food, real baby mush... And you loved it! No more steak and chops! And, to top it off, you couldn't wait for me to take you to Thailand so that ophthalmologist I bribed could implant those artificial cataracts to cloud your vision. Isn't it great not to be able to read or write anymore, or make out who's standing in the doorway half-a-room away? Doesn't that make you feel utterly babyish? Poor thing, totally cut off from adult life now and having to waddle and stumble around like a toddler... No more able to go back to the way things were even if you wanted to..." "But, Mummy, you told me you loved me this way. You urged me to do it... You laughed and said you liked it! You said 'Go for it, Lindi!' That's what you said!" "Are you blaming me, Lindi? Is that what this is about? Were those ideas mine? Did I invent them and say, 'Hey Lindi, why don't you become legally blind?' or 'Hey, Lindi, why don't you remove your teeth?' Were those my suggestions? I always wanted what was best for you, honey- bunch, which was what you really wanted deep down inside, too. But I never pushed... It was fun at first---different and exotic and even kinda sexy in the beginning; it made me feel dominant and strong---it was such a novelty and exciting---kinky, too---we had fun, even Luke when he came to live with us enjoyed it---but now it's just too much work, too tedious, too much of a good thing, so to speak... It got old, Lindi. Very fast it got old... It got boring. Then it got tedious. And after that it was just plain unpleasant---everything about the nursery seemed dirty and smelly, nasty and totally unsexy... All the care and bother and clean-up took any fun it once had completely out of it..." "I'm sorry, Mummy..." "Luke hates it when you sleep between us during thunderstorms and when you have a nightmare, and I can't deal anymore with all the diaper changes, the feedings, the tantrums around beddy-bye time. I'm tied down here all day every day and I'm never able to take a night off to go out and relax... I'm like a slave... There's always something to do involving you, Lindi... It never ends... Day after day locked up in the house, my life revolving around your nursery. It's too much..." "I'm sorry, Mummy..." "It's not a matter of being sorry, honey-bunch. It's not your fault. You're just acting like a baby. We understand... We forgive you... You got what you want. You're happy, and I'm happy for you. Really I am... But did I get what I wanted? Is Luke happy? Are the maids happy? I know you don't mean to be a bother. No baby does... Down deep you're sweet and innocent... We know that... We're not blaming you." "Oh, thank you, Mummy." "And in a sad little way I still love you. Not, of course, like a woman in love with a man. That's long since over, Lindi. We have zero passion between us. It's not just that you're not a man. You're not really a baby either. Not really... So what are you, Lindi? It's like you're something in-between, not quite identifiable... Like a new species... You don't fit into any normal category. Not a 'this' and not a 'that'... It's troublesome not knowing how to act appropriately around you, what to feel, and how to handle things---Are punishments administered a way of providing you sex and enjoyment? Or are they acts of aggressive sadism as a form of revenge for all the work you cause? It's tiresome worrying about these issues. Never being sure... You have no idea... It's not that you're not a sweetie. You are and I love you. But it just gets to me, the 'in-between-ness' thing... The fact there's no accepted protocols on how to act and behave around you... What's 'correct' and what isn't? You're not an adult, you're not a child, you're not even a pet... It's like you're really nothing... So how should I treat you?" "I'm starting to cry, Mummy..." "Honey-bunch, it's not your fault. I told you... I'm not blaming you! Mummy just gets frustrated... That's why I'm sending you away... But before I do I need to tell you something. I'm going to let you in on a big secret... You know what secrets are, don't you? Can you keep a secret? Does Baby Lindi know how? You have to promise not be upset about what I'm going to tell you. Promise? Cross-your-heart-and-hope-to-die?" "I promise! I won't tell! I promise, Mummy! Not even Nana or Auntie Belle! I love secrets! Tell me, pleassssse! It'll be just our secret! Just between the two of us! Just like it used to be..." "Well, honey, not exactly... This is not the kind of secret you have to keep secret. Do you know why? It's because everybody except you knows it already... That's why I'm telling you now... Before you go to Abigail's... You should know... I haven't told you before in order to protect your feelings, but it's time to tell you, to trust you're strong and brave enough to accept the truth." "Oh, tell me! Tell me, Mummy!" "On a beautiful spring day last June, while you were upstairs taking your afternoon nap, Luke and I were downstairs with friends. We kept very quiet so as not to disturb you. We set up chairs and a little altar by the front window and then Reverend Enders came, the same minister who married us. Do you remember him? Such a nice, gentle man... We had a little ceremony and the two of us were married. That's when I went away for two weeks---do you remember?---Mother and Auntie Belle stayed with you. Remember how much fun you had? Well, Luke and I were having fun, too, on our honeymoon at the same tropical resort you and I once stayed at when you were big. The same one, honey-bunch! Isn't that nice? But while you and Auntie Belle played in the nursery with your baby tea set and had parties with your dollies, Luke and I were having adult fun. Do you remember what adult fun was like, Lindi? Do you remember how much fun it used to be? Dressing up and dining out at fancy restaurants; dancing to sexy music; drinking expensive wines; swimming in a heated pool; driving down moonlit roads with the top down, the wind blowing our hair; seeing movies; making out under the stars; and lots of other things I shouldn't mention to a baby!" "I do certain naughty things with my wee-wee in my nappies, Mummy, and sometime I think of those things you're talking about. I think of the maids, too." "Do you miss adult fun, Lindi?" "I don't want to talk about it, Mummy. I get anxious and sad..." "Yes, I suppose you would get sad missing the things Luke and I do together. And jealous, too, now that you can't do those things anymore... Those are just the things Luke and I want to do, Lindi, from now on with each other. Luke and I plan to make this our home, and entertain and travel and eventually make babies, real babies, to bring up. We can't do any of that, though, with you waddling around the place demanding all our attention, being frustrated, and trailing behind us dragging a dolly, a binky in your mouth, your nappy all wet and messy--- your little wee-wee getting jealous of every adult pleasure Luke and I have to steal for ourselves when you're asleep in the nursery. It's just not sustainable any longer, Lindi... The three of us can't live together. You have to go..." "Okay, I understand... This is a great wake-up call, Grace... I get it. At some point you divorced me without even letting me know! That was nice, Grace! Very brave and loyal of you! Thanks much! Sparing my feeling, I suppose... I know I'm in the way... Extra baggage now that you have a new life with Luke... So let's just end the relationship, Grace. No more baby time... No more playing mummy... I'll 'grow up' just like that and be an adult again and move out and start over... I get it. You go your way and I'll go mine." "But it's not that simple, Lindi... That's no longer possible, just splitting up like that with, as you say, you going your way and me going mine. You and I are tied together in a special way... Don't you get it? I'm your guardian and you're my ward. I can't let you walk out of here, Lindi, even if I wanted to... If I could have done that, you would have been gone years ago---as soon as I met Luke... It's too late. In the eyes of the law, it would be like my kicking a small helpless child out of the house to be left on his own to fend for himself... I would be arrested. Remember what guardianship is all about!" "But we were playing then, Grace! That was what the whole adult/baby thing was. A big elaborate game---a stage play with lots of actors..." "Yes, with you at the center of it!" "But it's over! You know that! I'm as sane as you are! With baby-time over, the guardianship thing is over, too... I go my way, you go yours..." "I'm sorry. It doesn't work that way, Lindscom. The court thing we did four years ago, the papers I signed, that was real, not some kind of fantasy game you played and I indulged you in. You should have been more careful. I thought you knew that... That wasn't some make-believe we made together and could stop at will... Guardianship is a well-defined legal concept. The ward doesn't just end it when he wants to, and the guardian is stuck, too.... In fact, in a way, as the guardian, I'm more stuck than you are---I'm legally obligated... I can be arrested for neglect or abandonment. There are strict standards for my conduct. You can do anything you want---dance naked in the streets or shit on the sidewalk, and they'll just bring you home to me with a warning to keep a closer eye on you. You're what is called 'non compos mentis'---not mentally fit." "This is insane, Grace!" "In other words we can't agree to end it and walk away from each other. What we have is a bond tighter than marriage, Lindscom. To end guardianship, I'd have to take you back to court, get a solicitor for you, pay your expenses, try to convince the court you're suddenly okay and have miraculously recovered your sanity. It takes a long time, sometimes years, to convince a court you're just fine and dandy; it involves doctors and lawyers and so on. And think of the embarrassment... Think of the talk... It would be a near-scandal in all the tabloids... Think how it looks in the eyes of the world: I'm the guardian of an adult baby, I divorce him, live with a man while my former husband's locked away upstairs in a nursery, then I marry him; finally when I'm sick of my pathetic former husband in nappies, I kick him out naked and penniless into the street to go his pathetic way while I enjoy his former wealth... How do you think that makes me look in everybody's eyes, Lindscom? Pretty awful, I suspect..." "Well, maybe you should have thought of all these that before we did this, Grace." "And what should you have been thinking about? Besides the fact we can't end our relationship, Lindscom, I don't think we should. After all, you've had your fun... Just because I'm shutting you away in an institution, just because you're being committed for your health and safety, and just because you have no say in the matter, why should that matter to you? You've never been happier being a full-grown toddler, with all the restraints and humiliation involved. How is this any different? Nothing's changed... Abigail's Nursery will be just more of the same, maybe even better. They'll have all kinds of little indignities, little humiliations to inflict. The nannies will tease you just like the maids do. You'll love it... They're professionals there, Lindscom. It'll be like icing on the cake!" "That's ridiculous! I'm walking out of here!" "It's not ridiculous! How dare you! You won't dare walk out! One step out that nursery door, Lindscom, and I'll call the village constable. He knows all about our little arrangement up here---oh, the poor little rich man, the severely retarded ex-husband I hide away in a upstairs nursery locked away for his own safety. Remember 'non compos mentis'? I gave him a copy of the papers filed in his office just in anticipation that something like this might one day happen. , where you become 'violent' and decide to 'break out' of your nursery! Oh, horrors! All I have to say, Lindscom, to old Officer Daugherty is that you're having a terrible tantrum. Can you hear me, Lindscom? 'Oh, Mr. Daugherty, I'm so afraid for him. He has no money, he's legally blind and except for his nappy he's naked! I can't bear to think of him running around loose outside! Can you help me?' I imagine that will bring him and a couple of his burly men quite rapidly to the house with a truncheon and a straight-jacket, don't you think? Have you ever been in a straight- jacket, Lindscom? They tell me they have plenty at Abigail's in the cutest shades of pink and lavender. They're quite comfortable, they say, and some of the patients find them comforting and even rather erotic all tied up and unable to move... Then after the big burly officers subdue you and have trussed up, you can sit in the parlour and wait to be fetched off to Abigail's. It can all get very uncomfortable very fast, Lindscom! Do you really want to risk it?" "And here all the time I thought you loved me, Grace. Oh, I suspected you were bored but I never realized the depths of your hate..." "But I don't hate you. I love you... I'm just trying to protect you... That's all, Lindi." "Some protection! A truncheon and a straight-jacket!" "Well, I can't let you wander around outside undressed except for a nappy, can I? What kind of Mother would people take me for? Not that you have done much recently in the husband department... I can understand not having sex since Luke moved in, but if you recall we haven't slept together in the same bed since you moved into the nursery. Four years is a long time to go without fucking... Wouldn't you agree? A wife gets a bit lonely..." "I was husband enough to provide you with this house, Grace! And all this lifestyle you enjoy now... You were a low-paid nobody when I met you... Let's stop kidding ourselves! Every bit of the wealth you enjoy is really mine! It was my family's..." "Oh, stop it, Lindscom... You're so tiresome! It doesn't matter a fig whose wealth it used to be! Legally it's all mine now, every last pence of it, and I can to do with as I please! None of it is yours anymore!! Nor did I somehow screw you out of your inheritance. You insisted I take it. You practically shoved it into my hands... You couldn't wait to sign it all away... Or have you forgotten?" "I despise you!" "No you don't, Lindscom... Not really... You love me just as I love you and you need me more than you know, just as I need you but of course in a quite different way... We're knotted together, you and I, for life whether we like it or not. If you think I'm mistaken, try this little thought experiment, honey-bunch: Pretend you escape from the house and storm into your old bank to make a fuss. What do you think they'll do? They'll sit you down out of sight somewhere and let you rant; they'll pretend to listen politely, and behind your back they'll be laughing at you. But don't think they'll send you toddling off home with a pat on your nappied rear... There'll be no 'Go home now, Mr. LaVerne, your mummy is waiting.' No, that won't happen. One of them will secretly call child services to come and pick you up and deliver you back to your worried, distraught ex-wife who somehow let you escape your restraints and wander away... Can't you hear them say when they drop you off: 'You better put him in something tighter, Ma'am, something he can't get out of so easily.' That's what they'll say, Lindscom, and they'll say it right in front of you like they would a child..." "That won't happen!" "Of course it won't! You won't get the chance to make a fool of yourself at the bank. That won't happen because, Lindscom, you'll be enrolled in preschool at Abigail's. You'll be doing water-colours for your nanny to post on your nursery walls... So sweet!" "I can't stand this! Please stop! I can't take it!" "I'm really tired of all this stupid pretending, Lindi. Of course, I get that you regret letting everything you owned become mine. Who wouldn't if he had any sense? But if money is such an issue to you and you feel you've been swindled by me, once you're confined at Abigail's I'll see about your nanny buying a pudgy, pink piggy bank for you and putting it on a dresser far out of your grasping little fingers. No fair, Lindi, robbing the piggy bank when Nanny's back is turned! It's for you to look at. Each week if you're good I'll instruct her to drop a pence in as a reward for good behaviour. You will have a little ceremony: You'll stand there and watch her drop the pence in and then curtsy a thank-you. It will teach you the value of saving. All children should learn the value of saving, don't you think? Would you like that, Lindi? In a few weeks you can buy some lollipops at the nursery commissary to suck on. Won't that be fun!" "None of this is funny, Grace! It's downright humiliating!" "Oh, you're so right, Lindscom... It is humiliating! But I'm giving you what you want! This is exactly what you said you wanted years ago. And, frankly, it really is hilarious to have this much control over you. In that sense I'll be sad to see you go... You've turned yourself into such a small, insignificant little baby-man, in a cradle buffeted about by the winds of fortune on a sea of your own making---with a little help from me..." "Very poetic, Grace... This has made me very anxious. Can you see me shivering? You're terrorizing me! I beg you to stop..." "Then call me 'Mummy' again, Lindi. Say it like a child..." "Mummy, please stop being mean and be nice to me again like you used to do... Please! I'm so scared... I'm so confused..." "There! There! There, Lindscom. Calm down... Trust your mummy... You're in good hands... You'll be safe and properly looked after at Abigail's. Think of it as an investment in your future health: I've spent a considerable sum on your welfare; you'll be a model psychiatric patient all sunny and happy; your condition here at home has deteriorated to the point we can't take care of you properly---we're simply overwhelmed... We don't have the manpower or the expertise... There isn't a physician, nor any family court in the land, that would disagree with your placement, Lindscom. We're all on the same page... Seeing the evidence how you've been living in a so-called 'nursery' these years and have become increasingly dependent on others for your care would convince the most determined sceptic. For heaven's sake, Little Lindscom LaVerne, if there was ever a prime candidate for Regression Therapy at Abigail's, you're certainly it!" "Okay, okay, okay, okay... Stop calling me 'Lindscom'! Stop it! You've made your point... I can't take this badgering! Stop bullying me! I'm not strong enough anymore. I'm simply too weak... It's all scaring me... I'll go! I'll go! Just stop with this demeaning, insulting tone of voice you're using! Stop talking to me like I'm an adult! Please, Mummy! Pleassssse! Let's get back to the old footing. I'm 'Lindi' and you're 'Mummy'! You know best. 'Lindi be good, Lindi mind!' Please stop being mean..." "Honey-bunch, your mummy is not being mean. She's only talking common sense. Sometimes it appears she's mean because as a toddler you can't see the big picture the way I can and Uncle Luke. That's for the adults to see. You just have to trust us." "Yes, Mummy... I trust you and Nana and Auntie Belle, too, and Luke as well. Just be nice, please... I be good..." "Now, I'm glad that's all settled, Lindi. Now we can go back like we were... You worry me. For most babies it's automatic that they trust the people who love them. But you can be so suspicious for a child; you get paranoid at times thinking the world's conspiring against you and that everybody's you're enemy. But that's so wrong! The medical staff at Abigail's will get it all sorted out with their famous Tedium Therapy treatments. You'll have lots of time..." [Very meekly, barely above a whisper] "Please, Mummy, don't tell me about it. It will only make me more scared. Let's talk of nice things now: When will you come visit?" "Funny you asked, Lindi... You're so clever! Luke and I were just talking about that. This is how we see it, honey-bunch: You have to get adjusted to Abigail's so for the first year no one will visit since it will only make you homesick... The medical staff agrees this is a good plan---so no visits the first year. Now you might think I should come after that, correct? That would be the reasonable assumption, wouldn't it? But actually it's not a good idea and here's why: if I come you'll get the reputation of being a mummy's boy, a prissy little sissy who can't bear to be apart from Mummy---all the other babies will laugh and point their finger at you---so Luke and I have decided I shouldn't visit at all the first few years until you're completely adjusted and see Abigail's as your new home. But don't be upset... Your mother-in-law, your old 'Nana,' has volunteered to make the long journey in my stead so you won't feel abandoned or neglected... She'll give us a full report. And Auntie Belle volunteered to accompany her, so it'll be just like old times. Nana and Auntie Belle and you in the nursery together... Think of that! They both love you and you like them. I know..." "No I don't! I hate them... They're mean and ugly and old! And they hate me! They'll lie and say everything's fine even when it isn't!" "Oh, that's very naughty! Should I tell them what you just said, Lindscom? Will that make you happy? Is that what you want? Is that what you're good at---insulting the people who love you the most? For shame! Fine! No one will visit you then! You can be all by yourself forever!" "No, no, wait... I'm sorry, Mummy... I didn't mean it... I'm just so scared and upset... Me sorry..." "Well, you should be... I won't tell Mother or Auntie Belle what you said. They'd be terribly hurt and upset. To think this is the way you feel after all these years of their looking after you... Cleaning your butt and changing your nappy and fondling your little wee-wee to tease you... Why, shame on you! How awful!" "Sorry, Mummy..." "It's not enough to be sorry and apologize, little lady... It's not enough at all... In addition, you will sit for an hour on the naughty stool in the naughty corner and stare at the wall. You will regret how thoughtless and unkind you've been. The maids behind you will be rushing about packing your things and I know you'll be curious and tempted to turn around and watch all the excitement. But for each turn-around there'll be fifteen minutes extra time on the naughty stool. Is that understood? Little Gladys, my youngest housemaid, will sit in the rocker and stand watch... Is that clear? Do you understand? During naughty time, I want you to think of something clever and sweet---a little poem perhaps---to say to Mother and Auntie Belle this afternoon when they come over. I want you to thank them in advance for taking time out of their busy schedule to trek up north to visit you. I want you to be very cute and darling, and lisp and curtsy when you thank them, with all the maids standing and watching. Will you do that?" "Yes, Mommy... When do I have to go to Abigail's?" "Tomorrow." "But that's so soon!" "It's better, Lindi, to get the good-byes over with today and make a clean break of it, the sooner the better. It's best that way, so you can start your new life fresh without moping around here and fretting about what's in store for you. You know you have a tendency to invent all these silly phantom worries. You have such a vivid imagination for the weird and ugly... You'll worry yourself to a frazzle if you're not whisked away immediately. No, it's best you be gone without delay. The papers are signed. Everything's in order. Everything's in readiness. The maids are packing your stuff, all your pretty dresses and diapees and plastic panties, stuffies and toys, everything you'll need. In the morning, two Abigail nurses---the brochure assures me they're both very strong but also very gentle and pretty, too---will swing by to pick you up; they'll numb you a little to calm you down and strap you in a gurney. It'll be an adventure! The vehicle will pull up in back. The brochure says it look like an ordinary, nondescript delivery van with the windows darkened so no one can see inside and laugh at my big baby girl in diapees as she's being whisked away. I'm told the girls are super-efficient and super-quick, in and out, wheeling in the gurney one minute and wheeling you out the door the second! You'll be gone in an instant..." "But people will laugh when they know where I've been sent! They'll say I'm crazy!" "Ah, honey-bunch, we knew you'd be worried sick about that. Your precious reputation! But guess what! Say that Luke and I are having a party to celebrate and over drinks one of our friends casually asks where you are or what's become of you. Now let me tell you how we've decided to handle it: We'll get real quiet and mysterious-like, look around furtively as if we might be overheard, and then whisper that you went away on a long, long, long vacation somewhere and won't be coming back anytime soon." "Oh, that good, Mummy!" "We'll say, 'Lindscom's on a secret mission!' We'll say. 'All hush- hush!' Won't that be just so delicious! Our guests' eyes will widen and they'll shake their heads wondering where you are and what you're doing and probably envy you all the exciting adventures you're having in foreign lands! They'll beg us for more information but our lips will be sealed." "That'll be neat, Mummy! No one will know where I am!" "Yes, life here will quietly go on as it always does. You know how people are... They ask at first where you are, but gradually over time when we're not forthcoming they lose interest. Soon they'll tire of asking without getting a response. Eventually they'll forget to ask. And after that, they'll forget they forgot, and not long after that they'll even forget you. It'll be like you were never here at all... We'll fumigate the nursery and reconvert it into a bedroom. All trace of the baby smells will vanish... You'll never have to be embarrassed thinking people know you've been confined as a psychiatric patient in a mental clinic. No one will know you're there or care if they did... Now, honey- bunch, how does all this secrecy and pretending sound? Show me how enthusiastic you can be! Make Mummy happy! You'll be gone and no one will know! How sweet is that!" "Ohhhh, yipppppeee! It'll be our secret!!! Just ours!!! No one will ever find out where I am! It'll be like I'm a spy, a secret agent, for you and Luke---on assignment at Abigail's Nursery to investigate conditions for all the adult babies there who have been locked up... I'll be Agent # 5! Nana and Auntie Belle can be spies, too, Agents #3 and #4---I'll let them decide who will be #4 and who will be #5; they can fight over it---and when they come to visit they'll take all the info I give them back to you and Luke---Agents #1 and #2---back here at Spy Headquarters. It'll be our big secret! No one else will know!" "Well, aren't you the clever one! I told you, you have such an impressive imagination! It'll be our shared secret, just ours, yours and mine. You're Agent #5! And Uncle Luke, of course, has to be part of it. And we have to tell the eight maids, they'll be Agents # 8 through # 15, because they have to know where you've gone so they know you're on assignment and won't be coming back, and Mother and Auntie Belle, they have to be included, too, since they'll be in on the secret mission... But that's it! No one else, Lindi... Just think! You'll be all snug in your nursery at Abigail's, pretending not to have a care in the world, not a thought in your head, playing and having fun with your nanny, every moment of your waking life supervised and controlled, and all the time you'll be busy spying for Spy Headquarters! How much fun is that going to be! Wow! Our little girly spy! A real femme fatale embedded in a secret nursery buried way back in the hills of the Central Highlands ferreting out all its secrets! Getting ready to expose all of Abigail's wrongdoing to the world! You'll be a hero!" "Don't tell a soul!" "Don't you say anything either, Lindi! Everybody will go about their daily activities, their busy adult lives, and not think a thing about you or what you're up to. Won't that be just delicious! And all the time you'll be spying! Our secret agent at Abigail's spying to her heart's content... No one will think a thing about it! It'll disturb nobody... How darling is that! Just think of the irony! The spy who can't be caught because he's already an inmate!" "It'll be just our secret, Mummy! Now I can't wait to go! I'm super- excited! Should I tell the Cook at din-dins? Should I make her Agent #16? What about her helper? I don't think so... She's kinda dumb and stupid and she might blurt our secret out to everybody... I need to devise a secret code for when Nana and Auntie Belle come! Hand signs and baby-babble... I'll teach them... Then the next time they come we'll be able to communicate... It'll be so much fun... The guards won't have a clue thinking it's all 'goo-goo-gah-gah' stuff... They'll be so perplexed... I can't wait... But tell the maids not to gossip and tell anybody else... I'll be so shamed if people think I'm a real mental patient there who has been declared cuckoo by the court. But don't tell 'em I'm a spy either, not yet anyways until I'm embedded there for a while, 'cause that might accidentally blow my cover! Okay?" "Yes, yes, Lindi! Perfect! It's perfect... What a perfect plan you've devised! I've already bought the maids' silence. I've already paid them extra to keep silent, not say a word... They'll be so proud of you when I tell them about your being Agent #5! A real hero! Don't worry about a thing, honey-bunch! They're all very discrete and know how to zip their lips. Their yearly bonus depends on their not spreading nasty rumours about 'kidnapping' or 'being disappeared'... No one will say a word. Everyone is being paid to forget..." "You're so smart... I love you, Mummy. You think of everything..." "I try, honey, and so does Luke... Hey, guess what? You get to skip your enema session with Little Gladys on the changing table this afternoon! I've just decided... Isn't that neat? No more enemas 'til you get to Abigail's... After serving corner time, the maids want to celebrate by having a special going-away party for you. Think of that! They've made a little cake with a single candle and you're the guest of honor! And Luke's coming home early to be here, too. I know you think boys are icky, but you should try to be a little flirty and super-sweet around him on your last day---the way all little girls are with their daddies-- -and as a result he may just lean down and give you a peck on the cheek good-bye. Wouldn't that be sweet? And of course I'll give you hugs and kisses, too!" "I'll try, Mummy, but Uncle Luke's scary... His voice is so low and scary, and he's so big. I'm afraid his hug will crush me..." "Just try, honey... There's no men at Abigail's to worry yourself about, just nice nannies and sissies like you... So be nice to Uncle Luke!" "Yippeeee! No awful boys! Just girls! That'll make spying easier..." "And then it's your last din-din in the highchair with Cook and her helper---she's making your favorite meal, mashed squash and peas with ground-up bits of liver and ham followed by a bottle of apple juice, and then it's a bath time and an early six o'clock beddy-bye time for a tired baby so someone will be fresh and pretty for her early morning pick-up! We'll miss you so much, Lindi! I may even cry a little if Luke and I can remember to get up in time to say good-bye..." "I'll be crying, too, Mummy!" "Why, of course, you will! What else would a little baby like you be doing going away to a new home with no hope of ever coming back?" The End* *Well, not really... Look for more to come about Abigail's Nursery in a future posting. You'll be learning all about Baby Myron being made to endure the infamous Merry-Go-Round punishment in the Round House. Oh, dear, dear dear! You babies are all in for a wild ride of masturbatory fun!