wittlesissybaby

The Wet Nurse

Published: January 10th 2023, 4:09:34 am

My shift starts at 11:00 am. I'm usually in the building by 10:50, slurping the last sips of my coffee before the elevator dings for the 3rd floor. By 10:55, I’m around the desk and telling Roberta good morning.

“How are you?”

“If I was any better, I’d be you.” She laughs. She always says that.

I grab my chart and scan the rounds I’ll be making that day. Some are easier than others, but today seems like it will be mostly uneventful.

I grab my cart, and have it skittering and rumbling softly down the hall by 10:59.

I check my watch. 10:58 today, I must be making good time.

My first patient is a new arrival. The cart squeaks as I come to a stop at room 3062. I check the chart again.

Elliot Hightower. Former CEO.

I give a short knock on the door. It’s ultimately meaningless, I’m going to come in no matter what they say, but I guess I’ve always found it courteous to knock before entering.

“Mr. Hightower?” I ask as I step through the threshold. “How are we doing today?”

“Help! Please! You’ve gotta get me out of here! I’m not supposed to be here!!”

It’s a stark contrast to Roberta’s morning reply.

Elliot stretched the restraints around his wrists and ankles as far as they would go, shaking them wildly like a puppet—if the puppet were tied down to a hospital bed.

Reluctant new arrivals aren’t exactly what you want to start your day with, but I figured I’d make the best of it.

“It says here and on your chart that you’ve been here for 38 hours and still have yet to make poopies in your diaper. Is that true?”

“What, that I haven’t shit all over myself?” He scoffed, “yes it’s true! They refuse to unstrap me and let me go to the bathroom.”

“That’s because you’re supposed to use your diaper, Mr. Hightower,” I said evenly, “It’s one of the first steps of the process at our facility.”

That caused a renewed outrage. Elliot writhed and yanked on his restraints, spouting and spewing spit and vitriol. I don’t know why they do that. In the 4 years I've been here, I've never seen someone break through those thick leather straps, and it’s not like they’re going to convince me to recommend unlocking them after the little temper tantrum they’re throwing.

I maintain my even smile until they tucker themselves out and begin to calm down, waiting for them to move onto the third stage of their grief: bargaining.

“I’ll pay you!” He proffered.

I look at the papers on my clipboard, pretending like I'm reading something that the news has already made me well aware of.

“Hmm… it says here your company went bankrupt after buying Twitter…and you lost a lot of other assets when those allegations of sexual abuse came to light.  I don’t think you have much to bargain with anymore.”

He closed his eyes and furrowed his brow tightly, perhaps thinking if he squeezed hard enough it would make everything from the past suddenly disappear.

Then I noticed the tremors. Visible signs of perspiration and hyperventilation. His toes were curling, clenching and unclenching.

He needed to poop.

I placed a gentle hand on his hairy arm to console him.

“You gotta help me…” he said softly, he was sobbing now. 4th stage: Depression.

“What would you like?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood. “I can give you some laxatives, suppositories, castor oil…”

He shook his head as if to say that’s not what I meant by ‘help’, but instead he laid back against his pillow and sighed.

“I don’t need any of those,” he grumbled. “I can do it myself. I just…don’t want to…”

“Awww but you’ll feel so much better when you do!” I said, stroking his arm now, “Imagine not having to hold it anymore. Just think of how relieved you’ll feel!”

He nodded solemnly. “I guess you’re right…” he said, but then tried again, “there’s really no way I can get out of here?”

“‘Fraid not,” I shrugged, “you’ll be serving a 6 year sentence. One for every young girl you…”

I didn’t need to finish that sentence. He sighed and nodded once more.

“Okay,” he said, “I'll do it.”

5th stage: Acceptance.

I couldn’t help but grin, feeling somewhat accomplished for getting through to him.

“Would you like me to…give you some privacy?” I asked a little awkwardly.

He shook his head, looking almost terrified, “No! Uh…no. Will you, uh, will you…stay with me?”

I smiled, putting my hand back on his arm again. “Of course.”

That seemed to comfort him. He laid back against the bed, looking around the room as if there were some sort of answers scribbled along the walls. Then he breathed a long, heavy exhale, and relaxed.

It didn’t take long for the smell to hit me, but I stayed quiet while he did his business.

They always look so revolted the first time. The way they cringe like they’re trying to shrink in on themselves. The way they try to scoot up the bed like they’re gonna be able to run away from the stench and the warm mushy feeling in their backside.

Sometimes they grunt, sometimes they pass gas, but Elliot was relatively quiet. Until a few seconds later when he finally said “I’m done” and his face flushed.

I came close to the bed and brought his head to my breasts. He cradled into me as much as his bonds would allow. A 51 year old man was reduced to mush as much as what was currently squished against his tush.

“There there, isn’t that all better?” I cooed, “you did so good!”

He was sobbing again, as if suddenly realizing his life had literally gone to shit. I let him cry his eyes out until the front of my sexy white nursing outfit was soaked.

“Watta you say we get you changed, hm? Your first diaper change as a grown man!”

I didn’t bother telling him it would be the first of very very many. Don’t want to beat a guy when he’s down, you know?

I pulled out a mask and some latex gloves from the cart, as well as the changing supplies.

“If I unstrap your legs, do you promise you’ll hold still?”

He seemed to ponder that one a bit.

“I’ll remind you there are some very big men down the hall who have no problem coming down here at the push of a button.”

His eyes went wide at that. They must have already paid him a visit.

“I’ll be still,” he said meekly.

I smiled, giving him a playful pinch on the leg. “Good boy.”

After uncinching the straps, I pulled the gloves on with a pop, made sure my nose was nice and covered with my mask, then patted him on the soggy crotch.

“Alright, let’s get this changed, shall we?”

He was still a bit revolted at the notion of being a grown man getting his soiled diaper changed, but it was my job to make him feel at ease.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it,” I said as I unsnapped the tapes, “They all do…”

When I opened up the dirty diaper, his penis was pointedly erect, sticking up to the ceiling.  He seemed ashamed of that. I assured him it was quite common and perfectly normal as I fought back a snigger. I made it a point to dodge his penis while I was wiping, you never know how quick on the trigger some of them are. His breathing was labored, and he seemed like he was fighting back the urge to make a snide or alleviating comment, but instead he stayed silent and stared upwards while I finished my work. They feel so exposed when you lift their legs up so you can get access to their crack and butthole. It’s honestly adorable, seeing a man so vulnerable.

He seemed so disappointed when I pulled out a fresh diaper, like he was back to stage 1 again: denial. But he made only a tiny whimper as he lifted his bum so I could slide it underneath. His eyes welled as I powdered him up and taped it on. Poor guy, I’m pretty sure he had a wife and family before all this happened. If they could only see him now.

“I’m gonna have to turn you over so you don’t get bed sores.” I told him.

It wasn’t the reason, the real reason was something else entirely. Something he was already doing before I even left the room. There’s a certain sound someone gives off when they’re needlessly humping their diapers.

******

Not all patients are as difficult as Elliot. Some are quite content in their new home. Take Baby Blake for example. He always coos and rattles when I come in the door. He’s super cute, hides his face and looks away embarrassed when I ask him if he’s made messies.

Blake is free to roam around his room, he crawls on all fours and spends most of his time playing with blocks and watching Cocomelon.

Originally Blake was an investment banker. I don’t remember what got him here—it was over 3 years ago—but I do remember he was even fussier than Elliot for several months.

“Who’s my pretty girl??” I coo, pinching his little cheeks. It always makes him blushy and clutch his unicorn plushie to his dress. “Are you ready to take your pills?”

His pigtails flopped around as he shook his head ‘no’.

“Awww! But they’re gonna make you big and stwong!”

More like weak and mushy minded, but whatever.

Little Blakey still crossed his arms and jutted out his lower lip. Well, at least as much as he could with his paci in his mouth. But it still gave the effect that he was pouting. Whether he was doing it playfully or because he genuinely didn’t want to take the pills, I didn’t know. But I would have treated it the same either way:

“I’ll let you have milkies after…”

His eyes went wide, his paci practically fell from his mouth.

“Tehe, that’s what I thought!”

I grabbed the little cup with his pills in it, using the other to remove his paci. He sucked it like a brat, giggling at how it made my momentum stop for a second. When it was free, he opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue, at first in a teasing/playful sort of way. But then he switched to a little submissive puppy, opening his mouth wide and leaving his tongue out and leaving it gaping open. It reminded me of the time those men down the hall came in to enjoy that same mouth of his. I placed the pills onto his tongue one by one. They started dissolving immediately. He winced at the bitter taste, but otherwise gulped them down.

“All done?”

He nodded proudly, like he’d really accomplished something, even showed me his tongue again as proof.

“Such a good girl!! You’re good at swallowing aren’t you??”

He seemed a bit perturbed by that, but shook it off and started making grabby hands.

“Awww! You want your milkies now, huhh?” I giggled, he really was cute.

He nodded even more frivolously, his pigtails bouncing up and down.

I sat in the ‘nursing chair’ in the corner of the room, tapping my leg so he could scramble up on top of them. I cradled him in my arms, letting him rest his head on my shoulder and nuzzle me. It was hard not to get attached to patients, especially when you were pulling your breast out and pressing your nipple into their mouth.

I rocked him back and forth, humming soft tunes, cooing and shhing him. His eyes were closed, but his lips were hard at work suckling. The milk was leaking down the side of his mouth, but I let him continue, he’s such a messy baby. I patted his stinky diaper and listened to his labored breathing. He was getting turned on, I could feel it poking against my hip even from beneath his padding. I chose to ignore it.

The smell was making my eyes water, but he would be done soon. He usually could only handle one tit before his belly was full of breastmilk.

“All done?” I asked.

He nodded sweetly, inflating a bit and puffing out his cheeks. He had to burp.

I patted his back softly. “Let it all out baby…that’s it…”

Two pitiful pops later, I helped him off me and brought him over to the bed for a much needed diaper change.

“Thank you,” he said after I was done.

My heart melted, it felt nice to be appreciated. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

I cleaned up his room a bit, making sure it was in order enough for him to not accidentally hurt himself.

“Okay,” I sighed, “It’s time for hypnos!”

His eyes went wide and doey again. “No hippos! Pweez! No hippos!”

It was funny how he immediately regressed when it was time for his Hypnosis treatments. Almost like it was exactly what it was designed to do.

“I’m sorry, Blakey, but you know it’s part of your ‘Growth’ plan…”

His face scrunched up, and he sniffled a bit, but eventually splayed his hands out with a whimper. I took them gently and placed them through the loops of the restraints. They probably weren’t needed, Blake could stay rather still during his treatment, but it was The Facility’s policy.

“Here’s your paci,” I told him, placing it in his mouth, it immediately soothed him. I rolled the hypno machine closer to his bed, placing the device over his head. It looked like a slimmer piece of virtual reality gear. With more pronounced headphones and a locking mechanism to make sure it didn’t slip off.

“Are you ready Blakey?” I asked softly. His pacifier quivered in his mouth as he gave a reluctant nod.

I flicked the switch on, and watched as his body tensed, and then deflated as he relaxed and let the hypnosis take over.

I’m not sure exactly what it does. Probably plays some sort of soft, schoolyard music, with a woman’s voice repeating something or another while various images are displayed. I do know that when I remove the device from patients, they have a much more pronounced oral fixation. They want anything and everything in their mouth, but display a special affiliation for long, phallic-like devices. They are further regressed, and exhibit much more ‘feminine’ qualities.  Apparently the pills they take beforehand make their brains much more malleable.

Whatever it is, it’s certainly had a profound effect on Blake and other patients. There was an even bigger tent forming in the front of his diaper. I gave him one more soft pat on his belly–he hardly even noticed it–gathered up my cart, and made my way out the door.

******

The next few were pretty uneventful. Just some standard diaper changes and feedings. One of them by the name of Bobby had been sitting in a dirty diaper long enough to get a rash. The nurses in the earlier shift must have neglected him. He was rather difficult sometimes. But a firm demeanor and some soft coddling never failed to calm him down. I administered some diaper rash cream and gave a heavy dose of powder, as well as some words of encouragement to help him understand that he needs to change his attitude if he doesn’t want it to happen again.

On the way to my next patient, I had to stop to pee. It was such a relief, emptying my bladder into a diaper of my own. I wriggled the last drops out, tugged my skirt down over the now inflated padding, and continued onward while hardly missing a step. One of the many reasons I enjoy wearing diapers.

I had to administer a chastity cage to Kenneth in room 3115. I found two globs of semen inside his diaper when I opened it. The head of his penis was still red from the abuse he’d just given it. Blacklight examination revealed he had deposited at least 7 loads into a single diaper.

It’s not that I was surprised. We actually expect it. It typically happens between week 1 and 3 of their sentence, when the hypno effects start kicking in and they become more accustomed to their diapers and new lifestyle. Chastity is just another integral step in their transition.

Kenneth put up a pretty big fuss about it, though. He threw such a fit I had to call in the big male security guards to hold him down. Even with them and the restraints, it was hard to put on the steel cage.

“Please!! No!!” he cried, “It’s too small! It won’t fit!!”

It wasn’t. They all said that. They’re always so surprised when I stuff their little nubby inside the tiny metal prison.

“I really am sorry about this…” I told him once the lock clicked shut. And I was. Honestly. But rules are rules and sometimes certain measures are necessary. It’s their pathetic whines and whimpers that makes you feel bad, even if it’s for their own good.

Before I even left the room, one of the men had his pants halfway down while the other was putting an O-ring in poor Kenneth’s mouth. They don’t like having to be called down, so they take what they call a “tax” when they are.

I could hear Kenneth squealing and sputtering halfway down the hall.

******

My first milking of the day happened around 1:37pm. Martin was so excited to be out of his chastity cage, he already had ropes of precum sticking to it when I pulled it off. Poor little guy only made it 3 seconds after I wrapped my two fingers around his micropenis.

“I really am sorry about this…” I told him as I put his cage back on over the sound of his wails.

My next patient, Cory, was also due for a milking. His testicles were noticeably swollen and engorged. They had a reddish, purple hue, and he had a steady stream of precum leaking through his cage. So much so that his diaper was more sticky than wet.

“Is it milking day?” he asked pitifully, looking up at me like I held his life in my hands.

“It is,” I smiled, but cringed at the next words I had to say, “But unfortunately, your chart says ‘anal only’...”

His eyes closed slowly, like he already knew it was coming.

“Will you just…please…use your fingers?”

He looked so desperate, so demoralized, wishing I could give him just this one reprieve.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that…” I said sympathetically, putting a hand on his cheek where his tears were running down. “I’m gonna have to use the Phallus…”

He was blubbering now. The days of me using my fingers to milk his prostate were over, it had to be a different way from now on.

“Why don’t you turn over and make yourself comfortable?”

Cory sucked in air in shaky, machine-gun like breaths, wiping the snot and drool from his mouth before planting himself on all fours.

“Just try to relax,” I said, squirting a generous amount of lube onto my hand and pressing it into his crack. I slipped the tips of my fingers in just a bit to coat the inside. He whimpered when I withdrew them.

I rolled the machine close to me. It had a long tube that ran down the end to a thicker, girthier tube. It was effectively a dildo, but The Facility didn’t call it that. They preferred more medical terminology.

The Phallus was designed to vibrate and pulse, it even stretched and retracted, like it was “fucking” the patient, for lack of a better word. Every minute or so it would squirt lube through the tiny hole at the tip. Because this provides relief, I’ve noticed patients get happy or even proud of getting something to squirt inside them.

Cory quivered on the bed, still crying into his pillow, but his hands were behind him, spreading his cheeks and showing me his butthole. It made it easy for me to aim the device, and gently press it into his rectum. Cory gave a nervous whimper when it touched the tip of his hole, but gave an agonizing groan as it was forced inside.

“I’ll try to be quick…” I told him. Though his chart demanded at least a 15 minute milking session.

I kept an eye on my watch as I flicked the device on. Cory squeezed the sheets with his fingers, curled up his toes, and moaned into the pillow. I often wondered if it actually caused the patients pain, or if they just put on a dramatic display in order to protect their ego.  Regardless, every single one of them gave a relieved sigh when the machine started putt putt putting the lube into them.

“Ohhh yea…” Cory moaned. I couldn’t see them, but if I could, I’d bet any amount of money that his eyes were rolling to the back of his head.

I angled the Phallus down onto his prostate, gently moving it in and out in conjunction with the movements it was already making.

Cory was doing nothing to silence his pleasure now, he was pushing his hips back against the device, wriggling around to try to find what felt best for him. I smirked and kept the device still, watching him effectively fuck himself with it. His tears long forgotten as the machine deposited another load of lube into him.

“Unff mmph oonfffffff” He grunted as his first gush of goo burst out. His body shook and his legs quivered, but he still forced himself backward against the Phallus. He wanted more.

I checked my watch, he still had 12 minutes of milking time remaining.

Deciding to have a bit of fun, I pulled the device out, leaving his asshole gaping.

“Wh-what happened? Wh-where are you g-going?”

I giggled a bit menacingly. “Awww, do you want more??”

He was crying again, but for a different reason this time. “Yess pleasee!!” He whined like a needy bitch in heat.

“Do you want my fingers this time?”

He shook his head fretfully. “No…”

“No what…?”

“I want the…the…”

I almost finished the sentence for him. I almost didn’t make him say it, but I wanted to see what choice of words he’d use…

“I want the…the dick, Miss…”

It was hard not to laugh. I probably didn’t do a good job. It’s just so funny to me the way these boys completely flip on their initial hesitations.

“If you say so…” I said, like it was his decision anyway. I took one of the thick rubber sleeves and placed it over the Phallus, making it a bit wider and longer, before inserting it back in his anus. He certainly didn’t seem to mind the larger size. If anything, he welcomed it willingly.

I brought him to two more squealing sissygasms by the time the 15 minutes was up. His balls were drained and deflated, and his cage was still nestled tightly against his puny penis without ever having to be removed.

I held up the container I used to catch his semen so he could see. “Almost 2 ounces!” I said, sounding like a proud parent, “Somewon had quite the build-up didn’t they??”

He whimpered and shrunk into himself. Now that he was drained and his libido was mostly gone, he didn’t seem quite as thrilled about what he made, or how he made it…

I poured the contents of the container into a larger reservoir, added some formula and powders, put a rubber nipple on top, and shook it up.

“Time for your ba ba!!”

******

Liam wasn’t due for a milking at all, but his chart stated he “cums very easily”. I had to be extra careful when wiping during his diaper change so as to not accidentally brush against the area and set it off.

He was in a rather grumpy mood, though. I wonder if it’s because he’s set to have his testicles removed tomorrow.

Speaking of, I had to check on Theo around 3:37pm. She is two days post op from her gender reassignment surgery. Her stitches are looking good, no sign of infection, and everything looks like it went swimmingly. I changed her bandages, applied antibacterial ointments, and wrapped her new vagina with gauze as carefully as I could. She wasn’t too thrilled about having her penis removed, but that wasn’t her decision. The woman in a relationship has all the say these days.

The rest of my day was mostly mundane. I got to do Hunter’s makeup, he really does make such a pretty girl when he’s not adorned head to toe in that hideous camouflage attire. Joey needed a shave to make him baby smooth. Gavin got an enema that he was forced to hold for 30 minutes, and Devin needed a catheter put in. Boys are such babies about anything going in their pee hole. You never see a woman complain about the various things they get shoved up their areas. But the catheter was necessary to keep Devin from bursting his bladder by trying to hold in his pee pee’s so much.

People say nursing is a lot like waiting tables. I don’t remember having to clean up nearly as much human feces while working in a restaurant…

“Is there anything I can get for you?” I asked Kole after administering his spanking. I really tried not to break the skin, but the paddle they have us use is pretty brutal. It didn’t help that he’d earned himself 30 of them for cussing out the previous nurse.

“I really am sorry about this…” I told him as I applied the cream to his blistered area before taping up his diaper.

“I really am sorry about this…” I told Jason when I increased the size of his buttplugs. He would have a hard time holding his poo poo’s after his sphincter was stretched for that long.

“I really am sorry about this…” I told Connor when I spooned the prunes into his mouth. I know how much he hates prunes.

“I have to give you your medicine…” I said to Daniel before I gave him his pills.

“I have to give you your medicine…” I said to Ashton, flicking the end of the syringe containing his dose of hormones. “Relax, take a deep breath. You’re going to feel a slight pinch and then some pressure…”

“Relax, take a deep breath. You’re going to feel a slight pinch and then some pressure…” I said to Brandon as I pressed the strapon I wore over my diaper against his hole.

It was a whirlwind of a day. But by 11:00pm I’d made all my rounds and checked on all of my patients. I sighed as I clocked out, heading to my locker.

I took off my outfit, my skimpy skirt and top, my mask, my headdress, and my fake boobs whose milk was just drained by Andrew. They flopped around on the straps when I hung them up. I was still surprised by how real they looked. The patients didn’t seem to notice a difference, or they just didn’t care. I could refill them from the breast milk supply cabinet tomorrow.

I untaped my diaper, now sodden with piss, and tossed it into the trash can. I breathed a heavy sigh of relief, sitting down on the bench. I took my cock into my hand, it was already hard as I replayed every scene from the day.

“I have the greatest job in the world…” I smiled and whispered to myself.

Then I started stroking.

THE END.